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harryslittlefreakk · 5 months

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can’t get you off my mind

(late night talking part 2)

Summary: your first night at LOT leads to a new depth to yours and harry’s… friendship

Warnings: smut, 18+!!!

A/n: i love this one. that’s all. this is all based off a very fun dream i had

hi guys!! thank you so much for all the love on this so far. if there’s anything you’d like to see, anything for me to add, anything at all you’d like in the upcoming parts then please let me know 🫶🏼xx

part one

my masterlist can be found here!

Harry spent the entire day thinking about you. He’d dropped you at your hotel that morning, slightly against his will. He woke before you, and couldn’t believe how adorable you looked sleeping. Your hair was a mess from tossing and turning in the night, your cheeks rosy from the morning heat and your rosebud lips puffing out with every breath.

He had places to be and you needed to shower, but once he saw the building you were staying in he decided you’d never go back there. It looked a state. The yellowing brickwork was falling apart, some windows were boarded up and the front door was wedged open for anyone to get in at any time. He made a mental note of your room number before he drove off.

You’d exchanged numbers as you left, but Harry hadn’t heard from you since then. Although he was busy with work at the venue, outfit fittings and some sneaky self-care, he was starting to panic that he wouldn’t speak to you again. So when he’d finally had enough of waiting by the phone like a teenager, he snapped a picture of himself with a sheet mask on. He sent it to you, then followed with a message.

harry: making myself pretty for you :)

He saw you were typing almost immediately, and his heart nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a picture from you flash up. You were wearing a tiny baby tee, and if he looked hard enough (which he absolutely did) he could make out the outline of your nipples under the shirt. You were surrounded by makeup, your hair already styled in perfect waves.

y/n: you’re pretty enough as you are. working hard on myself too 😋

Harry felt a blush creep up his cheeks as he read and reread your message. Tapping his fingers on the side of his phone, he stared up at the ceiling and wondered how you’d just been dropped right under his nose. He always shied away from women who were fans of his work, knowing it can get more complicated that way. But something was different about you, there was a reason he’d bumped into you last night, he was sure of it.

—

With soundcheck finished, all Harry had to do now was get ready. He wondered if you were outside already, where you’d be inside, what you’d be wearing. You hadn’t caved and given him any details, so the possibilities had been running through his mind all day. He paced his dressing room, stretching out his strong arms. Every show was important, every show needed to go right. His first night at Wembley needed to be a good one. He just hoped he’d spot you, know you were there so he didn’t have to keep looking for you. Sighing, he decided to send you one final text before shutting his phone off and getting in the zone.

harry: meet me at my hotel after the show? won’t be there until later but can give your name to the front desk :) x

y/n: only if i’m not intruding !!! good luck tonight, break a leg 🦵 x

Meanwhile, you were in the queue outside the stadium with your best friend, Joanie. You were both wearing denim halter playsuits, her with a blue feather boa and yours white. You’d met each other at school where you bonded over One Direction, so you wished to be able to tell her about your night with Harry. But you knew whatever friendship was blossoming between you two could only continue in private, at least for now, and you knew she’d understand when you eventually told her. She was watching you as you stood there, jittering and anxiously checking your phone. “What’s up with you?,” she asked, her face scrunched up. “Oh. Nothi- I’m just anxious to get inside,” you lied through your teeth, hoping she wouldn’t ask any further. You knew the last thing on Harry’s mind right now would be texting you, yet you still waited for another message. You had your phone brightness turned all the way down so no one could see, and clicked on your text chain with Harry every few minutes. You couldn’t stop looking at his selfie, his glistening green eyes against the white of the mask, the relaxed look on his face. He was shirtless, the heads of his inked swallows just creeping into frame. You hadn’t even clocked he’d slept shirtless last night. The things you’d do if presented with that again ..

The queue began to move inside, and every wall you looked at showed you pictures of Harry’s face. It felt totally insane that the same man you’d joked around with like old friends was the one you’d be screaming to shortly. Part of you wanted to dial down your enjoyment, make him think you’re just a casual fan so he felt more comfortable around you- but you knew the second he came on stage that would be out the window.

You found a perfect spot a few rows back from the front of the walkway, knowing Joanie wanted to see ‘little freak’ and ‘matilda’ up close. It wasn’t long until you heard the opening chords of ‘daydreaming’ and watched Harry burst onto the stage. The atmosphere was electric, and he looked divine in his red and white patterned jumpsuit. You and Joanie were screaming and jumping like children at a school disco, in pure disbelief of the love and wholesome vibes around you.

When Harry appeared just in front of you, you felt a buzzing in your chest. You’d seen his eyes scanning the crowds, as if he was looking for someone, and you really hoped he was looking for you. As soon as you thought about it, his eyes landed upon yours. He sucked in a long breath, losing his train of thought mid-ramble. Harry thought you were beautiful last night but you looked almost heavenly tonight. Your playsuit hugged your curves perfectly, the half-up zipper showing an inviting amount of cleavage. He could see all the tattoos dotted up and down your arms, and the way you were grinning at your friend made his heart melt a little. You had an air of innocence about you, which he loved. Suddenly, your friend was looking at him awestruck and nudging you to see. You half-waved, sending him a subtle wink so as not to alert Joanie to anything weird. Harry managed to carry on with what he was saying, but his eyes barely left you the entire time he was there.

By the time he got around to ‘late night talking’, Harry literally couldn’t get you off his mind. In a sea full of people, it’s like there was a spotlight on you. The way you were dancing, your hair flying around you, he was mesmerised. The rest of the show continued in a blur, with Harry barely in control of his own actions. Going through the motions until he could see you later on. Grinding against the microphone, acting out the dirtier parts of every song. You riled him up in the perfect way.

“I need a little help from you all,” he spoke into the microphone, one hand scanning the crowd. “It’s a little hot today, and I think we need to cool down.” His face remained serious, though the crowd laughed after his antics all night. He was positively feral. Rolling his shoulders back, Harry grabbed the microphone as the first lines of ‘kiwi’ tumbled out his mouth. It didn’t take long for him to be back in front of you, already drenched from the splashes of water he’d requested. He was standing there with a devilish smirk plastered on his face, full water bottle in hand.

She sits beside me like a silhouette

His hand traced the curves of his own body, eyes locked onto yours once again. The words you were screaming were no more than tiny squeaks now, heart caught in your throat as you watched Harry gyrating in front of you.

Hard candy drippin' on me 'til my feet are wet

He raked a hand down the front of his body, pulling away just before he reached his goods. Something in his eyes said he wanted to touch himself right here, right now.

And now she's all over me, it's like I paid for it

It's like I paid for it

He pointed towards you now, apparently totally incapable of anything except showing the world that he wanted to fuck you. Heat was swirling round your insides, this song did enough for you without Harry singing it for you.

I'm gonna pay for this

Just as the burning in your core got too much to bear, Harry unscrewed his water bottle and threw the contents right at you. You shrieked as the water hit you, drenching Joanie and the other girls around you. Harry returned your wink, the green of his eyes barely visible around his blown pupils, and moved on as if nothing happened.

“Oh my God!” Joanie screamed, jumping up and down at your side. “He was looking right at you!!”

You were so flustered, you couldn’t even find words to respond. You were almost nervous for the show to finish, hoping Harry still had this energy later.

—

Opening the door to your hotel room, you looked around with your jaw dropped. Everything was gone, all your makeup and clothes vanished from the piles around the room. All that was left was some gym shorts, a black t shirt and the pair of sneakers you wore last night. You turned on your heel, furious that someone had been fiddling with your stuff while you were away. It was only then that you saw the note pinned to the back of the door.

Y/N, this hotel sucks. Got you a room in mine. See you soon , H x

You couldn’t believe what you were reading. That cheeky little bastard didn’t even pre warn you that he’d cleared out your hotel room. You were desperate for a cold shower after the heat of the concert. Instead, you got changed quickly and scrubbed your makeup off, hoping that would make you feel a little fresher. Harry hadn’t even left you clean panties to change into.

—

Barging into his hotel room with the note still in your hand, you were half surprised to even see Harry standing there. You assumed he’d still be a while, but then, he didn’t have to battle through the crowds to leave the stadium. “There you are,” he grinned, so much more relaxed than you’d seen him a few hours ago. You flapped the note in the air, unable to even find words to question him. “Hey,” he started, stalking towards you slowly. “You can’t stay there alone, I don’t trust that place one bit. I put all your stuff in your room- it’s just one floor down from here.” You calmed down slightly at that, not even sure why you were so worked up to begin with. He was right, your hotel was the lowest of the low. “Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him. Harry was standing right in front of you now, wearing only a thin t shirt and the gym shorts from yesterday. He looked exhausted, but totally wired.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he whispered, barely audible above the hum of the music he had playing. “Are you kidding?!” You replied, eyes lighting up as a grin stretched across your face. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” you laughed, poking a finger into Harry’s muscular chest. He grabbed your hand when you didn’t move it away, looking into your eyes with parted lips. His own eyes were darkened, his pupils blown with a look you couldn’t quite place. They dragged up and down from your eyes to your mouth, and just being subject to his gaze lit a fire in your core. He was animalistic. Harry traced along your jaw with his free hand, tentatively as if waiting to be stopped. Only, you didn’t stop him. You weren’t sure you could speak, even if you wanted to.

He let go of your wrist and ran both of his hands through his damp hair, before wiping down his face with his right hand. Harry took a step closer, his big frame overshadowing you as you stepped back until your hips hit the kitchen counter. Please, please let this go as far as I want it to, you silently prayed, wishing Harry could read your mind right now. He was still looking down at you, his firm chest rising and falling quickly. You placed a gentle hand against his pec, checking his eyes for any sign as to his next move. Harry merely cocked his head in response, as if trying to figure you out too. “Harry, please,” you moaned softly, hoping this would be all the permission he needed to have his wicked way with you.

Almost instantly, his hands were under your thighs, scooping you up and placing you on the countertop. He tilted your chin up and looked over your face one more time before his lips smashed into yours, starting a battle of tongues, teeth and lips. You wrapped an arm around his broad shoulder, allowing his tongue further into your mouth. Harry’s teeth tugged at your lower lip as he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. You were panting, half from the lack of air but mostly from the heat in your belly. You mentally scolded him for not leaving you clean panties as they were double soaked now. You wrapped your ankles around his hips, pulling him closer into you until your cores connected. His thick shaft poked your inner thigh, leaving you moaning and crumbling in front of him. “You had me going crazy all night,” Harry moaned against your mouth, pushing his hands up and under your t-shirt. He kneaded your soft breasts as if they were warm dough, pinching your nipple as his lips moved down to your neck. His name tumbled out of your mouth over and over again, Harry, Harry, Harry, ringing around your head as he got to work on your body.

He stepped back, tilting your head up again to look him in the eyes as his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your shorts and panties. You gave him a small nod, knowing he’d take that as your consent to do whatever he fancied with you. Harry whipped them off in one go, his cock twitching at the sight of you. Your lips were swollen and pink, pupils blown with lust. He could see the wetness glistening between your folds, looking beyond inviting. His fingers trailed up your thigh, circling your button before slipping between your folds. Your head fell to his shoulder as he pushed in and out of you, stroking at your sweet spot. Your walls were tightening around his knuckles already, so much pent up pleasure pushing you close to your climax already.

“So close already, sweet girl?” Harry drawled, peppering kisses down your throat. You could only moan in response, feeling a ball of heat deep in your core. He slipped another finger in, rubbing on your button with his thumb, desperate to coax you to your high. “Right there Harry, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you panted, screwing up your eyes as he bought you closer. “Look at me, Y/N, look in my eyes as you come,” Harry warned, his tone stern yet breathy. The minute you looked up at him, your orgasm flooded over you. Your thighs were shaking as you called out his name through pants, a hand gripping the back of his thick curls.

He kept his fingers moving inside you, slower now as you came down from your high, before rubbing a hand along your waist. “You needed that, huh? Did so good for me baby,” he spoke softly, pressing kisses into your jawline. “I’m gonna take you to the bed now, okay?” He asked, pushing your hair out of your face. You simply nodded, unable to speak after such a fast and heavy orgasm.

Harry slipped off his shirt before sliding an arm under you and gripping you tight, carrying you over to the giant bed. He laid you down gently in the centre of the bed, kicking off his shorts and boxers. Your eyes were drawn to his groin as he gave himself a quick stroke, his erection bouncing up to smack the centre of his laurels. He was big. Bigger than he felt pressed against you, maybe bigger than you’d ever seen. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking down at you with his lips rolled into his mouth. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m clean, Harry. And I’m on birth control,” you offered. Harry grinned. He wouldn’t normally go raw, he knew the risks all too well. But man, did he want to. He could already feel the way your walls would stretch around him, the sheer pleasure of splitting you in two with no barrier in the way. It was risky, but he’d already taken enough risks with you. One more wouldn’t hurt.

He climbed on top of you, resting one hand to the left of your shoulder. Guiding his cock to your folds, he moaned at the slightest touch. You’d had him hard for so long now, Harry knew he wouldn’t last long when he finally got inside you. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips as he pushed his head inside of you. He took the first few inches slow, reeling from how tight you were around him. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay pet?” He looked deep into your eyes as you nodded, throwing an arm around his neck. “More, please Harry,” you whimpered, using one foot to nudge the back of his thigh. “You wanna take it all, princess? Gonna get fucked so good by daddy’s cock?”

You moaned louder at his words, pure filth tumbling out of his dirty, dirty mouth. Harry bottomed out inside you, throwing his head back in relief. He had every intention of starting off slow and careful, but after pulling out, his first thrust was already hard and sloppy. He needed you too badly to waste time warming you up. “You feel so good baby, never had someone so tight around me.” He rocked into you quickly, his free hand gripping onto yours. You had no idea sex could ever feel as good as it did right now. His cock was filling every inch of you, forcing satisfaction into places you’d never felt before. “Harry, fuck-“ you whined, “I’m close.”

“Come for me, I want you to come baby.” His groin was rubbing against your clit, your pleasure threatening to spill out of you again. You looked up at him, just as he’d requested before, and stretched your neck to press sloppy kisses along his collarbone. Your body started to tense up again, you could feel your walls clenching around his shaft. You writhed under him, this orgasm more intense than you’d ever had. “Fuck baby, fuck. Where do you want me to come?” He stuttered, throwing everything left in his body into thrusting in and out of you as you came down from your high. “Inside me, please, fuck Harry.” You panted, clawing into the back of his neck. He wasted no time in painting your walls with his come, his thrusts becoming sloppy and half-arsed as he cried out your name.

—

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. I wasn’t expecting it or anything,” you spoke softly, moving your head to look up at Harry. He only wrapped his arm around you tighter, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. “I know. I wanted to.” He replied, pulling the duvet on top of you both with his free hand. “Seemed like you wanted it too,” he smirked, nestling his chin into your hair. You slapped his chest playfully, eyes heavy after your long night. You both fell asleep like that, tangled up in each other, wearing nothing but a pair of pants each.

part three

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry x fan #harry fic #harry x y/n #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles x fan #harry smut #harry styles #harry styles smut

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shares-a-vest · 10 days

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Steve walks into the living room with two coffees in hand to find Eddie slumped on the couch and staring – no, glaring – at two of their cats, Gandalf and Ozzy.

Two cats who typically prefer to be anywhere other than occupying a space with any living, breathing humanoids.

Eddie tsks and folds his arms, leaving Steve with no choice but to abandon his Garfield mug on the coffee table and risk his partner no doubt whining for it with a limp arm the moment he gets himself comfortable on the couch.

As soon as Steve sits down, Gandalf scurries away and disappears behind the recliner chair.

"What's wrong?" he frowns, chuckling low so as not to wake their napping daughter in the next room.

"What could I have possibly done to make them loathe me so?" Eddie laments, his eye following as Ozzy jumps onto the nearest window sill to bask in the afternoon sun peaking in.

"Well, Gandalf has always been an asshole," Steve offers, taking a sip from his coffee as Eddie splutters in indignation, "Remember when we first got our bedroom all set up and he jumped on my face in the middle of the night?"

"A terrifying act of vengeance," Eddie shudders at the memory.

"I thought I was suffering an actual goddamn heart attack."

As if on cue, Eddie reaches out a hand for his mug and makes a tiny, 'eh'-sound. Steve purses his lips and leans forward to fetch the mug nonetheless.

He hands it over and they sink back in unison.

"What about Ozzy then?" Eddie asks.

"Well, I mean we did just leave them with Nance for a week – "

"– I knew Wheeler would be a terrible Cat Aunt," Eddie gulps through a mouthful of piping-hot coffee and clenches his jaw.

"Eds, that wasn't what I was going to say," Steve elbows him in the side, "We left the cats with Nance for a week and then just... came home again with a tiny human in our arms."

Before he can say any more, Eddie jumps up, discards his beverage on the coffee table in such haste he splashes some liquid on the new TV Guide and runs to the window. He scoops up Ozzy, who goes limp at the sudden contact. Eddie snuffles into the top of the menacing furball's noggin, cooing unintelligibly.

"I'm sorry, my dearest familiar," Eddie cries out with the utmost theatrics, "My noblest of companions. I didn't mean to abandon thee. I was merely protecting the Princess of Stinky-Town, Joanie of House Munson."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"Daaaad!"

#missed my joanie au #have another idea but i want to jump back in with something sillier first #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie as girl-dads #steddie ficlet #steddie cat dads #idk is this an active tag??? lmao #steddie dads #trans eddie munson

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as-is-above-so-below · 1 year

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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 6: Darling

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: implied sexual content, MDNI Note: PART 6 HAS ARRIVED! Thank you for all of your support! A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @peachesofteal for workshopping with me, per usual, and being my beta! Enjoy and blessed be! (p.s. ghost drinking an orange sodie lol) << Previous | Next >>

Simon could hear his daughter’s screams as he came up the walkway to their front door, duffel slung over his shoulder. He had returned from a month-long deployment an hour ago and only allowed himself enough time to debrief and return his weapons once on base before hopping in his car and heading home.

He entered the house, still in full gear (mask and all), to find his heavily pregnant wife pacing the living room, their crying daughter in her arms. Her eyes and cheeks were red when she turned to the door, sobbing in relief at the sight of him.

“Oh, sweetheart. What’s going on?” he asked, dropping his bag by the door and going to her.

“She has a-a cold.”

“I can see that.” He wiped at the snot and drool on Joanie’s lip with his glove. “Where’s Roach?”

“He went to pick König up. You didn’t see him?”

“No. Must’ve just missed ‘im.” When Price handed out assignments for their most recent deployment, Roach had offered (more like decided) to stay with Freyja for the duration of his absence. With König also deployed, it made sense for him to help her with the baby and housekeeping while Simon was gone. Better than staying on base – alone – for a month. Knowing someone was in the house with his family made him feel better about leaving for such an extended period, especially with his track record. The last time he had left the country, leaving his pregnant spouse behind…

Simon rubbed his daughter’s back, his heartstrings tugging at the thought of her being in pain. “Give ’er here, I’ll take a turn.”

“Si, no, you must be exhausted-”

“I am exhausted, which means I’m in no mood to argue. Go to bed, love, please.”

His pleading didn’t seem to affect her as she went back to doing laps around the couch. “The doctor said there’s nothing we can do. It just has to pass. I’ve tried everything. Chest salve, shower steam, saline – nothing’s working. Every-Every time we put her down or sit down, the screaming just gets worse. Can’t stop…moving, and your son is kicking the shit out of me-”

This was ironic, considering how Joan only kicked when Simon or one of their friends spoke or touched her belly. Now, their son only ever kicked for her.

“Freyja.”

She stopped her rambling and found he had stepped into her path; he firmly held her biceps and dragged his hands up and down. Freyja sniffled as another tear slipped down her cheek. No singular word could describe how she felt (and probably looked). Drained, fatigued, beaten, dog-tired; none quite did the trick.

“You look like shit. You need to get some rest.”

“No, Simon, please just go to…bed.”

Soon as Ghost took Joan and returned to massaging her spine, her wails simmered to quiet whimpers as she cuddled into him. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, little fingers hanging from the collar of his shirt to the top of his vest. Their baby was getting big, her senseless baby talk beginning to lean more toward coherent vocabulary. When Joanie cried a soft “Dada” against his neck, Freyja started to sob harder, the heels of her palms dug into her eyes.

Shit. “What’s wrong? She stopped screaming bloody murder. That’s a good thing.”

“I’ve been trying to calm her down for hours! You come home, and after five minutes, you’ve fixed it. She hates me! She fucking hates me!”

“Frey, look at me.” He stopped comforting Joan for a moment to tilt his wife’s chin up, forcing her to listen to him. When she did, he took his hand back. “Babies see their mothers as an extension of themselves. She knows your heartbeat and breathing sounds; she gets food from you…”

“Who told you that?”

“…I read about it.”

Freyja softened, tears no longer flowing freely. “You read parenting books?”

“Of course I do. I want to be the best for them and you.” He pulled her into his chest with one arm, his covered lips pressing into her hair. “You are her mother. I could never take your place. You’re her home. But I’ve been gone for a month, and I’ve never been away from her this long. There’s something to be said about missing her dad and wanting some comfort.”

When Simon brushed her tears away, she turned to kiss his palm, then rested her cheek there. Freyja didn’t know how, but her husband sure had a way with words, always knowing how to make her feel better.

“Better?”

“Mhm,” she hummed and, before she could reach to pull his mask up, Joanie whined in frustration, kicking her legs impatiently, about to start up again. Simon chuckled and let his wife go, his heavy boots thunking against the hard floor as he began what would be a long night of getting his steps in.

“Good. Now do as Daddy tells you and go to bed. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Coming up on the end of her pregnancy, the ‘waddling’ stage was in full swing. If Freyja thought she was big just before Joan was born, she was almost certainly a whale now, and she was losing energy much faster than before. This time around, though, they were sure to schedule a c-section for the week before her due date. The OB didn’t put up much of an argument with her medical history and Joan’s early arrival.

Her phone pinged again as she rounded the corner toward her husband’s office.

And again.

Joan’s irritable whines became more evident as she closed in on her destination. “Si, I can only move so fast.”

“Oh, thank god.” Ghost detached Joan’s iron grip from his mask while she was distracted. She continued to kick her little legs against him, trying to get away. “She’s antsy. I can’t get her down for shit. She’s sick of me.”

He wheeled his chair around the desk and tugged her missing sock back on (to her protest) until he reached the other side and placed her feet on the floor. “See? Mum’s here. Go see her,” he cooed, her tiny hands gripping his thumbs for support.

“Dad Ghost” as she had lovingly coined Simon in his work attire, was a walking contradiction. An arguably massive man, a masked mystery to majority of the population on base, snapping otherwise cocky and egotistical soldiers back in line. Still, no one dared to laugh as he screamed at them for poor technique or a lackluster performance with a blonde baby on his hip or strapped to his back. It never failed to make her want to giggle, hearing such a soft, gentle tone from the big scary skull plate affixed to his balaclava.

Freyja was halfway across the room when he stood their daughter between his comically large boots. “She won’t go that far,” she admonished. “If you give her too big of a task, she’s not going to even try-”

As if sensing her mother’s doubt, Joan took a steady step forward, still holding Simon’s hands in deep concentration. Then another, and another –

Until he couldn’t stretch forward anymore, and she let go, hobbling towards Freyja until she stumbled at her feet, letting out a soft baby grunt.

They both stared at each other in silence, eyes wide and mouths agape in shock. Neither spoke for a good minute, until Joanie pulled herself up again by Freyja’s cargo pants, babbling, “Mum mum mum mummm”, gnawing at the thick material and looking up with big, brown eyes.

“Did she just…?”

“I told you, she’s bloody brilliant.” Simon shot up to scoop the baby and place her in his wife’s waiting arms.

“My big, smart girl! I can’t believe it!” She squealed and giggled as Freyja peppered her face in fat, wet kisses and gently shook her. Ghost joined in, playfully nibbling at the rolls on the other side through the black material covering his face. Joanie smacked them both away, screaming with joy. Amongst all the commotion, Price stopped in the doorway on his way to their brief (which they were about to be late for).

“What’s going on here?” he asked, fists on his hips in faux anger. “I thought we had an understanding! No fun at work without Granddad.”

“We officially have a walker on our hands!”

Price gasped and crossed the room in an instant. “And I missed it?!” He shoved the stack of mission folders at the lieutenant and stole his granddaughter from her mother, hiking her high up on his waist. “You walked without me? I’m offended, little miss, but I’ll settle for a victory lap.”

He plucked his green bucket hat off the top of his head and dropped it onto hers, earning a high-pitched shriek of delight when it covered her face. “Let’s roll, everybody. We’ve got a meeting to get to,” he commanded before marching down the hall. “Oi, lads! She walked!”

A chorus of cheers broke out in the distance, followed by a wall-shaking group chant, “Joanie! Joanie! Joanie!”

Freyja just stood there, pouting, arms crossed atop her belly. “Just once, I’d like to celebrate our baby’s milestones in peace.”

“You know that’s not possible, love.” Ghost chuckled next to her, offering a single pat to her ass as they headed to the briefing. While neither of them would be going, it was their job to know what was going on during their impending absence. The ruckus started to die down when the couple sat, and the others followed suit. Soap placed a mug of peppermint tea in front of her, which she thanked him for, and Laswell, Gaz, and Soap filed around the table.

“Kӧnig and Roach should be here shortly,” Price said, bouncing Joan on his lap as Ghost passed out manila folders.

Gaz checked his watch with a furrowed brow. “It’s five past. Maybe they forgot?”

“Just give them a few minutes. I’m sure they’ll be here.”

“His office was closed, so he’s definitely in there. I can go grab ‘im. It’s no trouble,” he offered, the metal legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up.

“Be my guest, Sergeant,” Freyja hummed, making eye contact with John as she sipped her tea, hiding her mischievous grin behind the cup. She waited for an appropriate amount of time, about how long it would take to take ten paces up the hall before she held up five fingers.

“You’re a demon.”

“Five, four, three, two…”

“Verdammt nochmal!”

There’s a loud bang, eerily similar to the sound of a six-foot-six body slamming into the floor. Boots thunder against the ground until Gaz appears in the doorway again, eyes wide and blushing like a madman.

“Genau deshalb habe ich das Militär verlassen, keiner von euch hat den Anstand, verdammt noch mal anzuklopfen!”

“Didn’t knock, did you.”

“Nope.”

“How bad?”

König stomped into the meeting, red as a tomato as he jerked his long, tangled (read: freshly fucked) hair into a knot at the base of his neck before slipping his hood on. Roach walked in behind him, grinning like an absolute idiot (read: clearly the one doing the fucking), albeit a bit flush, and his clothes untucked and wrinkled as he plopped beside John.

“At least I didn’t get knifed this time.”

“Der Tag ist noch jung, Unteroffizier.”

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounded like a threat.”

“It was,” Freyja sang, her body shaking as she attempted to withhold laughter.

By the time Price had finished divulging the details of the op scheduled for the end of the month (which was also around the time of her c-section, which left Freyja and those deploying disappointed), Joanie had escaped his hold to crawl across the table and landed in her mother’s lap. She sat back against Frey’s round belly, happily gnawing on a teething ring while the captain combed her fingers through her soft, blonde curls.

John cleared his throat and leaned back, tipping the chair on its back legs. “So…In a shocking turn of events, Roach is the top–”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY, CAPTAIN?!” Soap screeched after choking on his coffee, leaving a stain on his shirt as it dripped from his nose.

“Oh, mein Gott…”

“I don’t know. What did I say, Sergeant?”

Across the table, Roach held his lips between his teeth as he wheezed, quickly signing, “Only for my king.”

“PLEASE PLÖTZE! Stop talking!” König, finally deciding he’d had enough, shot up from his seat and practically sprinted out of the room, almost bonking his head on the door frame on his way out. A moment later, he stormed back in and snagged his forgotten file awaiting him in Roach’s outstretched hand before turning back out.

Biting his lip, Soap muttered, “Interesting…” to himself, eyeing the Austrian’s retreating form before flicking back over to Roach. The Brit was already looking at him, probably having heard him being sat next to him. He winked with a devilish smirk, and practically purred, “S’alright, happens tae th' best o' us.”

A few days shy of their next mission, and the birth of the newest Riley, the gang gathered around their living room for one last game night before Roach, König, Soap, and John departed for another mission. Roach and König were less than pleased to be missing the birth of their godson, but it couldn’t be helped.

Kyle placed a red eight down on the stack of cards, ending his turn. “C’mon, mate, what’s the wildest thing you’ve done on a mission?” he prodded, raising a brow in Simon’s direction. “You know all our stories. It’s only fair.”

The two shared a knowing look, and Freyja giggled once before Kyle interrupted, “Besides that, you heathens.”

Simon pressed against the kitchen chair he had dragged in for himself, seriously considering what he would consider the most outlandish activity he had partaken in outside of combat. Particularly, that didn’t involve screwing his wife in places they shouldn’t, like public places, sniper lookouts, cars, or supply closets…

Before he could drift too far, he caught the saucy side-eye his wife was throwing him from her deep armchair.

“No.”

Soap peeked up from his hand with a quirked brow. “Does Ghostie have an embarrassing secret? Now we have to know!”

“It’s not a secret, and I’m not embarrassed by it just because I don’t flaunt it around,” he said, shot back the rest of his whiskey, and replaced his mask. Simon didn’t always wear it with their friends; he just so happened to feel inclined to it that night. There was no rhyme or reason as to when he needed the comfort; the urge just came and went as it pleased.

He tried his best to sound completely disinterested, hoping the discussion would blow over as he threw down his card. “Blue.”

Unfortunately, his plan did not work, and all interest in their game of Uno was lost. Kyle threw his hand down on the table, completely giddy. “WHAT IS IT?! TELL US!”

Simon groaned, throwing his cards at his wife, who simply laughed. “See, look what you did.” He sighed and begrudgingly unhooked his mask from behind his ears, tossing that at her too. After a beat, he let his tongue loll out, revealing a silver ball.

Several (if not all) of their jaws dropped, save for Freyja’s, who was utterly thrilled that this was happening.

Johnny was the first to speak. “Is…that…” he stuttered, staring unabashedly in disbelief.

He snapped his mouth shut again once everyone had had a decent look. “Alright, can we move on please–”

The Scot pounced across the space, clearing the coffee table as he knocked Simon out of his chair, taking them both down into a heap on the floor. They wrestled as he tried to dig his fingers into Ghost’s mouth and pry it open again. “LEMME SEE!”

“JOHNNY!” Simon roared, bucking and thrashing his hips in attempt to get the man off, but he quickly scooted up until he sat firmly on his chest, knees pinning his shoulders as he yanked the piercing back out.

“Awe, so that’s why you’re always fuckin’ like horny teenagers! Oh, ah bet that feels good on your cu-”

“SHUT UP, SOAP!” “THAT’LL DO!”

Freyja whipped her slipper at Johnny’s head, which he swiftly dodged. Meanwhile, Gaz was face down on the floor, having a fit and struggling to breathe. Price looked like he would actually rather die than endure another moment of the scene unfolding at his feet. Kӧnig was carefully weaving between people and furniture to remove Soap before he got hurt, and Roach stayed in his spot, mouth open in silent laughter.

Thank God Joanie was a heavy sleeper.

“Are you gonnae sit there ‘n tell meh that a’m wrong? A husband should always eat arse!”

“JOHNNY, OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

Kyle finally caught his breath and cut back in, “But does it WORK?!”

Everybody froze, including Kӧnig, whose hands looped under Johnny’s armpits, about to extract him. From underneath him, Simon glared up at his wife (who started this whole fucking mess). “Freyja–”

But Freyja, being the brat she is and loving the chaos, “…It works.”

Simon covered his face with both of his now freed hands, so utterly sick of her shit as the sergeant shook his shoulders, he and Gaz both screaming like madmen. Kӧnig still hovered over them, ready to remove Johnny if Simon called for it, his red hair up in a neat top knot at the crown of his head. A few strands hung loosely by his ears and at the peak of his forehead, framing his pale skin.

“AAAAAYYYYYY, SO YOU DO GIVE GOOD HEAD!”

He removed his shield at that, looking up at Johnny with a confused expression. “Who said I don’t give good head?”

Price flinched with a crinkled nose and grabbed his hat from the back of the couch. “That’s my cue.”

“Scary guys either have monster cock or scary good head,” Kyle stated as if it were pure fact.

“But he has both.”

“I can’t fucking take this.” Simon finally shoved at Johnny and the Austrian lifted him with ease, standing the Scot back on his feet.

Soap dusted off his pants. “Damn, you’ll have’ta get one’a those, Köni,” he teased and turned to face the giant, looking up at him with a boyish grin.

König’s skin, ever the shy one, immediately painted itself a rosy hue, unable to be hidden by any hood or mask. Even Roach was taken by his brashness and turned a little pink himself, choosing to sip his drink. König was, unfortunately, frozen in place, wide eyes staring down at Johnny’s proud face.

Three seconds pass.

Then two more.

Then three again.

“OH MY GOD, THAT WAS THEM?! The threesome you told me about a few weeks ago, was them?”

With nowhere else to go, König collapsed onto the couch and pulled the neck of his sweater over his face. “Verdammter Himmel, Johnny…” If he could crawl into a hole and die, he would.

“What can ah say? M’services are world-class.”

“Can confirm,” Roach added, having put his glass down so he could use both hands to talk.

Johnny raised a brow and dragged his eyes from Roach’s shoes, slowly up his shins, then his thighs and chest before settling on the challenging smirk on his freckled face. “‘S that so?” he asked, stepping into the space between Roach’s knees and the table.

Roach simply nodded, looking up at his boyfriend through hooded lashes, resembling a lovesick puppy with shocking accuracy. He knew exactly what he was doing, too, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth. Roach was a…talented flirt, to say the least.

His glass was carefully removed from his hand and placed on a coaster. Without a second thought, Soap wrapped his fingers around Roach’s wrist, dragged it behind his neck, and tossed the man over his shoulder. Gaz gaped, completely dumbfounded into silence – flabbergasted, if you will. He paused in the entryway, looking over his opposite shoulder.

“You comin’, Kö?”

König, still tucked away in the corner of the couch, peeked out from the cocoon he had created with his sweater. Even his forehead was tinged red, still. He openly stared for a bit before mustering up enough courage to rise again, and in an impossibly meek voice for such a large man, replied, “...Yes, sir,” and loosely tangled their fingers together.

Kyle threw his hands up then dropped them onto his head, dragging his cap back a bit. “WHAT IS GOING ON?!”

Freyja offered a sympathetic pat, her bottom lip jutted out. Poor Simon, who had returned to his seat, covered his mouth with one palm as he tried to contain his chuckles. He pulled his mask back on after retrieving it from the floor.

“Don’t worry, Gaz,” she said and poked his cheek. “We’ll find you a nice girl.”

“I GET AROUND FINE!” He swatted her hand away, glowering at her. “You’re all just a bunch of slags!”

He jumped up, abandoning his beer and putting his hat back in place. “Where’s my niece? I need to restore my innocence,” he grumbled, trudging upstairs.

“Simon, did he just call us sluts?”

“Yes, darling.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld

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topguncortez · 1 year

Text

Merry Christmas, Baby(ies)

pairing: Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey ➳synopsis: Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, The Seresins were preparing for a birth to announce ➳warnings: pregnancy, child birth, c-sections, a little bit of trauma, Jake's family, a dash of angst. ➳Word count: 5.5k Opposites Attract Masterlist | Hangman Masterlist

➳ note: no, this isn't the fourth installment of the Opposites Attract world, I am still working on that (cause idk where I wanna go with it) but MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS:)

Since Jake was little, he had always loved Christmas. His mother always went all out, pulling out the boxes of decorations the second the last plate from thanksgiving was clean and put away. She would spend the next week decorating the house from head to toe. Garland, pine cones, lights, candy canes, and Christmas trees covered the house. Each room had its own sort of decorative vibe to it, and had its own box that went with it. Jake’s four older sisters could care less about decorating, but Jake was a momma’s boy and would spend hours helping his mom hang ornaments on trees.

That same love for Christmas followed Jake throughout his teenage years and even to adulthood. His first deployment was over Christmas and he somehow managed to get a small Christmas tree on board and set it up in his room. He could remember his first Christmas with Y/N, and fell even more in love with realizing that she too, had the same love for Christmas. They went all out buying their own Christmas tree, and setting up their own Christmas traditions. Their Christmases seemed to get even better when they had kids.

This year though, instead of going to Texas like they usually did, Y/N had invited Jake’s parents and sisters to San Diego for Christmas Eve. However, Jake didn’t know that was Y/N’s plan and had already invited the Dagger Squad over for Christmas Eve as well. It sent Y/N into a bit of a panic as she looked down at her eight month swollen belly, but she put on a bright smile and said:

“The more the merrier!”

But now, she was slowly regretting saying that, as she looked at the house full of guests. Jolene and George had arrived on December 22nd, because Jolene wanted to help get groceries and wrap gifts for her grandkids. George would have cared less about being there so early. The next to arrive was Jake’s sister Andrea, and her husband Kyle and their kids, and Jessica and her partner Emily showed up on the 23rd, staying in an AirBnB near Jake and Y/N’s house.

“I thought it wasn’t supposed to be this hot,” Y/N groaned as she sat down on the back patio watching the kids play with their cousins.

“It’s not even that hot,” Jake’s twin sister, Hillary said. Hillary and Y/N hardly got along, but Y/N tried to remain civil towards her.

“Do you need anything, sweetheart?” Jolene asked, walking out to the backyard. Part of the reason why Hillary didn’t like Y/N was because she got along somewhat well with Jolene. Jolene was almost exactly how the song described; red hair teased to the high heavens, pale skin, and electric green eyes just like Jake’s. Y/N was surprised that at least one of her kids didn’t have red hair.

“I’m good, thank you, Mrs. Seresin,” Y/N smiled.

“Oh baby, you have carried five of my grandbabies now,” Jolene smiled, “You can call me Jolene.”

Y/N blushed and nodded as Eli ran up to her and climbed on the couch. He cuddled into her, pressing his face into her bump. She smiled and ran a hand through his messy blonde hair.

“What have you been doing, baby?” Y/N asked her youngest, as of right now, son.

“I gotta take a break,” He sighed and flopped his arms out dramatically, “Can’t keep up with Alex and Tyler and Ella and Derek and Joanie and-”

“Hard being the youngest, isn’t it,” Andrea, Jake’s eldest sister said, “Tyler and Joanie aren’t being mean are they?”

“No Auntie Drea,” Eli shook his head, “My legs just little.” Y/N giggled and Eli climbed back off the couch and ran towards his cousins.

“Gosh he reminds me of Jake,” Jessica said and sat down next to Y/N, “What about these two? Who do you think they’ll be like?” Jessica placed her hand gently on Y/N’s bump.

“Maybe if she found out the gender,” Hillary mumbled and sipped her wine.

Y/N brushed off her comment, “I think they’ll be like Jake. I think they all take after Jake in some way.”

“Especially Ella!” Andrea shook her head with a laugh, “That girl reminds me so much of him. She even has his little half smile. And those dimples! Gosh, they are twins.”

“Gossiping about me?” It was as if Jake had heard them say his name and he leaned over the couch. He placed a kiss on the top of his wife’s head, “How are things?”

“She’s been complaining about the heat,” Hillary rolled her eyes.

“You would be too if you were carrying twins and ready to pop,” Jessica said defending Y/N, “Besides, momma deserves to be comfortable. Can’t imagine what it feels like having your house bombarded like this during the final weeks.”

“It’s because she’s a trooper,” Jake came around the couch and sat down next to his wife. He put one arm around her and his hand went to her bump. He rubbed it gently and bent down to place a kiss on it.

“How is fixing up the nursery with dad?” Andrea asked and Jake sighed.

Over the years, Jake had slowly started to patch up the rocky relationship he had with his father. After the birth of Eli, Jake had realized that George had hardly ever wanted to see his grandkids or talk to them, and it hurt Jake. His sisters told him that it wasn’t just Jake’s kids that George didn’t gel well with, it was all his grandkids, but Jake didn’t see it that way. George was always so kind and caring when it came to his sister’s kids, but was kind of cold when it came to Jake’s brood. So, Jake sat down with him and talked to him about how it hurt him and George had apologized.

“Trying to tell me how to put a crib together, like I haven’t put together three in the past ten years,” Jake rolled his eyes, “It’s fine. He’s inside, probably complaining about me to mom. Which, I don’t care about anymore.”

“Well that certainly changed,” Hillary mumbled. And Jake glared at her, “What? You used to care so much about Dad’s opinion and approval of you. Everything changed when you met. . .”

Y/N shifted in her spot and looked down at the tea mug in her hands. Jake clenched his jaw and pulled Y/N in closer to him. He knew of Hilliary’s dislike for Y/N and couldn’t figure out why. All Hilliary ever said was Y/N was just too different than Jake, and it would never work. Jake thought it was maybe because she wasn’t at his wedding. But then again, no one was really at the wedding since they just did it on a whim. His mother and other sisters were a bit upset about it, but they forgave him for it seeing how in love Y/N and Jake were.

“This has nothing to do with Y/N,” Jake said, “I’m too old to be begging Dad for his approval. It’s his loss for being a jerk and not wanting to get to know his grandkids.”

“It is, Jake, and I’m sorry that he’s being like that,” Andrea said sincerely, “He’ll come around someday. Maybe once he has another heart attack.”

“That’ll be the damn day,” Jessica laughed, “I’ve been with Emily for over fifteen years and he still asks about how we’ve had kids.”

“Science has not caught up to the old man,” Jake shook his head.

“He’s still ordering things from infomercials. . . you think he’s understanding how in vitro fertilization works,” Andrea added and all four Seresin kids broke out in laughter.

— — —

“I don’t want to wear tights!” Ella pouted and Y/N sighed.

It was Christmas Eve and the house was already filled with members from the Dagger squad. Bob was the first to arrive like always, this time dragging along his girlfriend Maggie. He was bringing her over for the first time, and thought a perfect time to meet the whole Dagger Squad would be at Christmas. Christmas with nine aviators and their families was an interesting event. Every year they got too drunk off of Fireball and spiked Eggnog. Everyone knew that Christmas was a make or break, those who could hang with the squad got to stay.

Jake was already down stairs with the boys, being the best host like his mother taught him to be. He was mixing drinks and creating laughs at the built in bar that he so badly had to have in the house. Jolene was getting along great with Penny, Y/N’s mom Clara and Sarah Kazansky (who Jake and Y/N always invited her and her kids to Christmas).

“Ella, you have to wear tights with your Christmas dress,” Y/N tried again to get her six year old to put her white tights on. She wanted to try and cover the large scrapes on her knees from falling off her skateboard last week, but Rooster told her she looked cool and now she was against covering them up.

“No!” Ella crossed her arms over her chest.

“Fine then, I’ll tell Santa no gifts.”

“Santa’s not real. Uncle Fanboy told me last week.”

“Dammit,” Y/N mumbled under her breath and made a mental note to talk to Fanboy about ruining kids' dreams, “Please. Put your tights on.”

Ella shook her head again and Y/N gave up on trying to put tights on her, knowing that this battle was one she was not going to win. Y/N waddled down the stairs slowly as Ella ran up to her dad, Uncle Rooster and Fanboy. Jake picked up the girl and spun her around in a circle. Rooster couldn’t help but chuckle at the exposed scrapes on her knees.

“Wasn’t winning the tight argument?” Jake asked as Y/N made her way to the kitchen.

“No, and I’m not fighting with her anymore. Even pulled the Santa card, but someone,” Y/N looked at Fanboy, ''said he’s not R-E-A-L.”

Fanboy whistled as he picked up his drink and got off his barstool, going to both Payback and Stella. Jake chuckled and set Ella down to go run off with her cousins and friends. He moved to stand behind Y/N, running his hands over her very tight bump and frowned.

“Are you having contractions?”

“No,” Y/N said, “It’s been like this all day. And my back is killing me. I put the band on to try and help but it’s not.”

“Maybe it’s back labor,” Rooster said, casually sipping his drink. Y/N glared at him, “Hey! Remember the last time you said you weren’t in labor?? Yeah, Floyd ended up catching that crotch goblin.” As if he knew he was being talked about, Eli ran by with a can of whipped cream in his hand.

“Who the hell gave him that,” Jake said, and went to chase after the three year old. Y/N looked up to see Javy and Payback with smirks on their faces.

“I’m not in labor. I still have three weeks to go,” Y/N said and grabbed a glass of lemonade, “This isn’t like last time and I am not about to ruin Jesus’s birthday by having twins.”

“Would beat the bible story,” Rooster smiled and Y/N rolled her eyes. She walked towards the living room where some of the other women were. She sat down next to her mom, who was deep in conversation with Penny and Jolene about something. Dragon was sitting on the other side of her and tapped her arm.

“What’s with Ella’s knees?” The Trace girl asked.

“Her and Alex were seeing who could go down the hill at the park the fastest. Ella took a tumble and now refuses to wear tights,” Y/N said and Dragon stifled a laugh.

“God she’s like Bagman.”

“You didn’t tell them it was dangerous?” Hilliary asked and Jolene scolded her, “What? Ella could’ve gotten seriously hurt. I mean, Eli just had a cast on his arm like two weeks ago.”

“They’re kids,” Jolene said, “Kids get hurt. They break bones in the morning and are running in the afternoon.”

“Oh boy do they. One time Y/N was. . .” Clara fell into a story about how Y/N and her brother Thomas got into a scooter race around their cul-de-sac and crashed into each other, resulting in both breaking their wrists.

The rest of the night went along without a hitch. Jake and George had spent all day cooking up two turkeys and a ham for dinner. Jolene, Andrea, and Jessica cooked most of the sides. Y/N tried to help, but Jolene had told her to sit and watch, not wanting her to do anything too strenuous. Even though they had cooked tons of food, people still brought dishes to share. Y/N was slightly overwhelmed by the amounts of food on her kitchen counters. But she knew how the Dagger Squad was, and knew that almost every single thing would be gone and they would happily take leftovers home.

Jake had gotten the kids plates and set them at their own table off to the side of the main dining room. That was one thing that Jake had added when he built the house. He had put in a big main dining room that would then open up to a smaller dining room so for dinners like this, the kids weren’t completely shunned to another room and out of sight. He hated that growing up, how the kids were always in another part of the house, out of sight out of mind. Javy, Payback and their wives also liked the idea so they could see their children as well.

Y/N let out a slow breath as she pushed the green beans around her plate and rolled her shoulders back. The pain in her lower back was gradually getting worse, and she tried to push through it with no complaint. Jake had been watching her the whole night, seeing as she asked her mother several times to rub her back for her. He knew that this was probably the early stages of labor, but Y/N was stubborn. Hell, everyone knew how stubborn she was, the birth of Eli Seresin proved that.

“Babe,” Jake whispered over to her, putting his hand on her thigh, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Y/N said, her voice shaky.

“Are you sure? Are you having contractions?”

“No,” Y/N said, and squeezed his hand, “I promise, I’m not having any contractions.” Jake nodded and leaned over to kiss his wife. She giggled into the kiss, and pulled him in close.

“Really?” They broke apart, both looking like two teens that had just gotten caught by their parents, but in reality it was just Hilliary giving Y/N a glare, “Is that how you got into that situation?”

Y/N looked down at her swollen belly, and ran her hand over it. Jake had had enough of his sister’s sly comments towards Y/N for the past few days. He knew how much the things Hilliary said bothered Y/N. He had spent one too many nights comforting her while she cried and asked why his twin sister hated her. He respected Y/N’s wishes on not confronting his sister, but between his dad being on him for different things and seeing his wife cower under his sister’s glare, Jake had enough.

“What is your problem?” Jake asked and Y/N felt her heartbeat start to rise. She felt all eyes snap to both of them as Hilliary looked like a deer in the headlights, “You’ve been a bitch this whole time.”

“Jacob!” Jolene scolded.

“He’s not wrong,” Andrea mumbled, taking a sip of her wine.

“I haven’t done anything to her,” Hillary pointed out, “Just pointing out that not everyone wants to see you two making out at the dinner table.”

“That was hardly making out,” Jake scoffed, and rolled his eyes, “God, Hillary! You’ve not had a single nice thing to say about Y/N since you met her! She’s been nothing but nice to you!” Jake yelled.

“I don’t have to be nice to her!” Hillary yelled, “She hasn’t done anything but stay at home, shoot out kids, and munch off of our-”

“Oh,” Y/N gasped as she felt a sudden rush of warmth between her legs. She looked down at her chair and then back up at Jake who’s jaw dropped. Clara was thankfully sitting next to Y/N, and grabbed a napkin off the table to try and cover up the wet spot on her dress. Rooster and Bob stood up from their spots and ran over to the other side of the table.

“Fucking great,” Hillary grumbled, “And now she’s turned Christmas all about-”

“Would you shut up for a damn second!” Dragon yelled at the Seresin girl, “Are you okay?”

“Sweets,” Jake said, and grabbed his wife’s hand.

“It’s early,” She looked at him frightened, “Oh god.”

“I’ll get the car!” George spoke up, and Jake and Jolene both looked at him in shock. George Seresin never had anything to do with his childrens’ birth. In fact, Jolene didn’t have him in the room during a single one of her four kids’ births. He sat in the waiting room until it was over.

“Her bag is upstairs by the-”

“I got it!” Jessica said, and ran towards the Seresin bedroom.

“Val, Maggie, help me take the kids down stairs,” Stella said, standing up from her chair and over to where the kids had noticed the commotion at. There were little sounds of protest as the women corralled the kids down to the basement, but the second that Fanboy stood up and said that Santa was on his way, they all cheered and followed him to the basement.

“What do you need?” Jake asked his wife, as Rooster rubbed her shoulders as she started to feel contractions.

“I’d like to change my clothes,” Y/N let out a breath, “But I want to get to the hospital first.”

“Are you gonna shoot out these two on the floor like Eli?” Rooster asked and Y/N glared at him, “Hey, I just want to be prepared in case I gotta catch a kid again.”

“You didn’t even catch the last one,” Bob said and Y/N let out a groan.

“Dad’s out front with the car,” Jessica said, walking back into the dining room, handing Jake the go-bag, “We’ll stay here and put the kids to bed and everything.”

“Thank you,” Jake said, and helped Y/N to her feet.

“Oh, they're gonna hate us,” Y/N groaned, “We won’t be here to open gifts.”

“I will record it,” Andrea said, “And Kyle promised to dress up as S-A-N-T-A. They will be distracted. Now, go have these babies.” Andrea kissed Y/N’s cheek and then hugged her brother.

Hillary was standing in the corner of the room as she walked Jake carefully guiding his laboring wife to the car. She never thought that the argument was going to lead to her water breaking and that fact that her nieces or nephews were going to be born early. Hillary let out a gasp as she covered her mouth with her hand. She knew the dangers of having babies early, she was a nurse for christ sake, and she knew the dangers of having twins early. Hillary somehow found it in her to run after Jake and Y/N, catching a glimpse as Rooster shut the car door and George pulled out of the driveway.

— — —

Y/N let out a small scream as she braced her hands on the bed, swaying back and forth gently as she worked through a contraction. Clara was rubbing her back, and Jake was holding her hair back in case she were to get sick again. Y/N was used to contractions and going through labor without pain meds. She had Eli on her bedroom floor, totally unmedicated. But these contractions were the worst she had ever felt and she was waiting until she could get her epidural.

They had been in the hospital for a little over four hours, and it was officially Christmas Morning. Andrea had sent Jake a picture showing the three older Seresin kids were asleep in Jake and Y/N’s bed. Jake had also sent an apology to the Dagger Squad group chat, but they were all more excited to find out if they were welcoming two boys, two girls or one of each into the family. Jolene and George were sitting in the waiting room, both of them not wanting to leave their son and his wife, both too excited to meet their grandchildren.

“God it hurts so much,” Y/N cried and Jake looked over at the contraction monitor, “Momma.”

“It’s almost over,” Clara said, rubbing her daughter’s back. She had been there twice before to see her give birth and it never got easier to see her daughter in pain.

“Jake, can you find the doctor?” Y/N asked and Jake nodded, running to the nurses station, “Where’s dad?”

“Getting more ice chips,” Clara answered, and Y/N started to move to sit back down on the medicine ball. Clara grabbed a hair tie off her wrist and tied Y/N’s hair up in a bun, “Do you need water?”

“I need a fucking epidural,” Y/N groaned as Jake walked back in, the anesthesiologist and their main nurse, Vera, behind him, “Thank god!” Jake laughed as the nurse handed Y/N the paperwork and the anesthesiologist walked her through the steps of the epidural. Even though Y/N was having twins, she still wanted to do a vaginal birth, and both her midwife and OB agreed to make that happen the best that they could.

“We’re going to get you positioned on the bed,” The anesthesiologist said. Jake, and Clara helped Y/N sit on the side of the bed, Jake standing between her legs like he had done for the first two kids. He ran his dull fingers over her hair, scratching at her scalp lightly. Clara stepped out in the hallway, giving them some privacy as James rounded the corner.

“Babies time?” James asked and Clara shook her head.

“Getting drugs,” Clara said, “You know. . . these are our last grandchildren.”

“I have faith in Carson to stop being an idiot,” James said, putting his arm around his wife, “Until then, yes, these are our last grandbabies.” Clara laughed and James kissed her forehead.

“Deep breath, Y/N,” The doctor said and Y/N sucked in a breath and squeezed Jake’s hands as the needle went into her back. She felt that same warm sensation she had felt before and let out the breath she was holding. Jake kissed her forehead, and whispered words of encouragement as they got ready to place the epidural needle in.

Y/N closed her eyes as she felt the needle prick her skin. Jake held her hands tightly as Y/N let out a slow breath through pursed lips, and counted down the seconds until it was over. She felt her body relax a bit as the needle was removed from her skin.

“All done, you should feel it start to set in soon,” The doctor said, and Jake helped Y/N lay down on her side in bed.

“Need anything else, Y/N?” Nurse Vera asked and Y/N shook her head, “You’re dilating at a good rate. Going to have some Christmas Babies.”

“Yay,” Y/N said, giving her a smile. Jake squeezed her ankle, and rubbed her calf.

— — —

It was about fifteen minutes later that Y/N started to feel weird. Jake had gone to the bathroom, leaving Y/N alone momentarily. She blinked her eyes a couple times, feeling her head start to swim and her hands tingle. Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong.

“Jake?” Y/N called out to him, and tried to pull herself out of bed, but was too weak to even raise her arm up. Jake had just walked out of the bathroom, and his eyes went wide. Her color was gone, and he could see a thin layer of sweat all over her body.

“Sweets, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“I-I-” Y/N felt out of breath as she tried to reach for Jake but couldn’t even move an inch. Jake reached for the call button, pressing it rapidly. He cursed, and ran for the door, going to the nurses station.

“Something is wrong with my wife,” Jake rushed out in a panic. The nurses at the desk quickly got up and followed him into Y/N’s room, as alarms started going off.

“Baby B is in distress,” Nurse Vera said.

“Her heart rate has dropped,” Beverly, Y/N’s midwife said, “We need to move. Call up to an OR.” Beverly hit a button above Y/N’s bed, and a swarm of nurses and doctors came in, pushing Jake out of the way to get to Y/N.

“Jake!” Y/N called out to him. Nurse Vera grabbed the oxygen mask from the wall, and put it on Y/N’s face. Other nurses and techs got Y/N’s hospital bed ready to move towards the operating room. Jake tried to get close to her, but another nurse pushed him towards the back of the room.

“Ready to move,” A tech said and Beverly nodded. Y/N looked around the room, her vision becoming blurry both from tears and from the blood rushing out of her head. She tried to reach her hand out towards Jake.

“Jake!” She yelled a little bit loud.

“You’re okay! Just breathe! I’ll be right there!” Jake called out to his wife. Y/N kept her hands on her belly protectively as they took her right down to the operating room. He tried to follow them out into the hallway but he was stopped, “Get your damn hands off of me, and let me go with.”

“You can’t go with her, I’m sorry,” A nurse said, “You need to go wait in the waiting room.”

“The fuck I am!” Jake yelled as Clara and James ran around the corner.

“What’s going on?!” Clara asked, “Where did they take her?!” If there was one person no one wanted to piss off it would be Clara Y/L/N.

“Your daughter’s heart rate dropped and the twins went into distress,” The nurse explained, “She’s being taken back into an emergency c-section. We will update you when we can. But I’m sorry, you can’t go back with her.” The nurse turned on their heel and went towards the direction they took Y/N without any further explanation. Jake ran his hands through his hair and pulled at the ends of his blonde locks. Clara let out a soft sob as James pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead.

“Let’s go wait,” James said, and put a hand on Jake’s shoulder.

James had slowly become more of a father figure in his life than his own father ever had. He always knew what to say, and gave Jake comfort in moments like this. Jake nodded and wiped a tear from his cheek, as he followed his in-laws out into the lobby. Jake’s own parents had left to go and help Andrea prepare things for Christmas morning. He sat down in an uncomfortable leather chair with a sigh.

Jake looked around the waiting room and saw that it was pretty much empty except for a few people. Most people were probably asleep in their beds, holding onto their loved ones as they prepared for an exciting Christmas Morning of opening gifts and spending it with their families. Jake’s lip quivered as he thought about his family. How his wife was all alone and vulnerable, being cut open and having their last babies delivered. He wanted nothing more than to be laying in bed, surrounded by his five kids and his wife in matching Christmas pajamas that were way too hot for anyone to stay in for too long.

Jake put his arm on the armrest of the chair, and leaned his head on his fist. He knew this was going to take awhile, so he thought he might as well get comfortable and wait. He slowly fell asleep, and dreams of future Christmases with his family filled his mind.

— — —

Y/N sucked in a deep breath, well as deep as she could take, as she started to wake up. She wasn’t sure what had happened and everything was a blur. The lights were bright and she kept her eyes closed, as she tried to sit up, but let out a loud groan. It felt like she had done about a million crunches, and her hands went to her belly, finding that where her bump once was, was now a large scar. Tears started to fill her eyes as she tried to fill in the blanks on what had happened.

“Sweets?” Jake called out softly, his hand going into hers. Her eyes opened and she looked at Jake, “What’s wrong?”

“Where are my babies?” Y/N whimpered out.

“They’re okay,” Jake said, running a hand over her hair. She looked better than she did when they whisked her away. Her color was somewhat back, and her eyes looked more alive. She tried to push herself up again, but Jake gently pushed her back down on the bed. He took the remote for the bed, and sat her up a bit. She whispered out a thanks, and then pointed towards the water cup on the table in front of her. Jake grabbed it and helped her sip from the straw.

She gently pushed the cup away from her, “What happened?”

“Your heart rate dropped,” Jake said, “And it caused the boys to go into distress. They took you for an emergency c-section. Everything went okay, they are resting down in the NICU.”

“Boys?” Y/N quipped, “I have two boys? We have two boys?”

“We had two boys,” Jake smiled and Y/N returned it with one of her own. He leaned forward and kissed his wife, “I’ll go get Nurse Vera so you can go see them.” Y/N nodded and Jake went to go find the nurse.

It was the most painful experience ever, getting from the bed to a wheelchair so she could go see her newborn twins. Jake pushed her down the hallway, going ever so slowly to not hit anything that would jostle Y/N’s body. Clara and James were currently in the NICU nursery, making sure that somewhere was there for each of the twins. They had let Jolene and George know that they had two more grandsons to add to their family.

“Alright, you ready?” Nurse Vera asked as Jake wheeled Y/N up to the door of the nursery, “We’re going to have you guys do skin to skin, each of you will take a twin, and then switch. We want you to try and see if they will latch.”

Y/N nodded and Jake pushed the chair into the room. She gasped seeing the two incubators in the otherwise bare room. There was a rocking chair in the middle of them.

“Do you want to sit in the rocking chair?” Vera asked and Y/N shook her head, “That’s alright. We will start with baby A.” Vera put on a gown, gloves and a mask. Jake stood behind Y/N’s chair and watched as Vera carefully took the newborn out of the incubator, “He is four pounds seven ounces, and eighteen point four inches. He’s your little one. Jake, I'm going to have you untie the back of Y/N’s gown and pull it down slightly, exposing her chest.”

Jake nodded and did what Vera instructed. Y/N felt a bit vulnerable, but then Vera placed the baby against her chest, and Y/N felt tears in her eyes. Vera draped a blanket over Y/N and the baby, to keep them both warm. Jake gently caressed her shoulder and looked down at his son. He could tell that he had her nose but his green eyes, and Jake could see the faintest color of red in his hair.

“Maxwell,” Y/N said and looked up at Jake, “Maxwell Glen Seresin.”

“I love it,” Jake said, and kissed the top of her head.

“Alright Jake, take a seat in the rocker please, and strip the shirt off,” Vera said and Jake sat down in the rocker and took his shirt off, “This is Baby B. He is five pounds ten ounces, and nineteen point two inches long.” Vera placed the baby against Jake’s chest. Jake immediately tilted his head down to sniff the top of the newborn's head. His heart clenched a bit, realizing that this was the last time he’d ever get that newborn baby smell.

“Jasper Thomas,” Jake said looking at his wife, “What do you think?”

“I like it,” Y/N said, rubbing her son’s back, “Jasper and Maxwell,” She sighed and looked at Jake, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Jake smiled, and then looked down at his son asleep on his chest, “This is the best Christmas ever.”

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beababoobies · 4 months

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Amazing hazbin asks. I will get to them later. I am currently sobbing and rocking back and forth and gripping at my sheets because joanfk because my babies.. because… GEHKDHDOXBDMF. MY BABIES. JOANFK ISNT JOEVER AND I AM FUCKING KILLING SOMEONE JOANFK WAKE UP

(art credits to ort_smort on Pinterest, they are unbelievable.)

( EDIT : THEY HAVE A TUMBLR. HERE ! )

#joanfk #clone high #Spotify

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mercurygray · 3 months

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Merc,

Could we get a glimpse of Kurt interacting with the MotA characters? Thanks! 🥺

We are shocked to report that as he is in all things, Kurt is being an ass.

If anyone had any ideas about what Captain Warren's boyfriend looked like, Kurt Havermeyer wasn't it.

They were stood down for the weekend, and Harding had been liberal with 48 hour passes, the whole base practically packing themselves off to points south. London felt like a stretch, but Cambridge was handier and the beer cheaper anyway, so they'd shined their shoes and polished their wings, and those among them with an inclination to misbehave made sure all the right tools were in all the right pockets.

"And how 'bout you, Captain?" Douglass had asked with a grin, as the train swayed and screamed out of the station, the flyboys packed into the cars and the corridors, hats cocked just so. "Any hot dates waiting for ya?"

"Meeting up with my boyfriend, actually." Joan had offered, cagily as they came, and glances were exchanged. The Ice Queen - a boyfriend? And just what did he look like? It wasn't like she'd been quick to make friends, the intelligence officer, fresh from OCS and a press tour that would have made a princess proud. That's what she was, wasn't it? A princess?

Well, a princess needed a prince, and here he was - blond and blue-eyed, he proverbial golden boy sunning himself under his own artfully crushed cap, fresh from fighter command and as cocky as they came. When they turned up at the same pub, him proud as a peacock, it came out that he'd shaken down Joan about meeting her freinds, that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"What is she, ashamed of us?" Bubbles asked Crosby, as Joan almost hid. But after a while, Crosby wasn't inclined to agree - it wasn't them Joan was ashamed of. It was him.

He was loud, Captain Havermeyer, loud and full of his own self importance, rattling on about his plane and his wing like they were only ones fighting the war. Rich, too - he'd been all too clear about that, buying a few rounds for the room like money was nothing. Not a single kind word for the crew, or the plotters - and nothing but noise for the bomber boys. All while Joan sank back quietly into her seat, her own beer untouched, and the men from Thorpe Abbotts fumed and tried to stay on thier best behavior, and not be the yokels from Nebraska he assumed them to be.

They tried to offer common ground - about the beer, and the weather, and the state of the army, and everyone was getting along fine until Kurt, laughing, made some pass about promotions for pretty faces and how they'd let anyone in if she had a good ass - just like Joan, right?

The next moment happened so fast that later on that evening several people were almost sure they'd imagined it - Major Cleven's fist, shooting out to connect with Captain Havermeyer's eye, Havermeyer staggering back with the force of the blow, and Joan's face, stunned behind the two of them shouting in horror, not for Kurt, but for Gale.

"Apologize to the lady." It was a command, not a suggestion, Cleven's voice a half-note lower than his usual gravel.

Kurt surged forward from the floor, quickly held back by the remaining pilots, straining at his coat, his collar. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"An officer and a gentleman," Cleven said, serious as a open grave. "Neither of which seem to apply to you."

Kurt snarled, trying to shrug back into his coat, but no one was letting him go just yet. "Joanie, we're leaving."

"No, you're leaving, buddy," Bucky said with a stare that could have spit bullets. "She's staying right here."

He took a step forward, blocking her in, and the others closed ranks around Joan, now very much part of the crowd and staggered a little by her inclusion in a group that until ten minutes ago she'd had never quite been sure she'd had a single friend in. Every man there looked ready to fight, and a couple of the women, too, and Kurt had the good sense, finally, to see that if he tried to start something else here he'd defintely lose.

"We're finished, Joan Warren!" His face was starting to redden and there was split flying when he spoke. "You hear me?"

"Good," some joker (Douglass?) roared from the back, "She can do better."

He sneered at the lot of them and made a quick exit for the door, and the minute he was gone the whole group burst into laughter, with slapped backs for Cleven and beers for everyone and appreciative pats, too, for Joan. "What an asshole." "We can find someone better." "-clean as a whistle and BAM, right in the kisser." "Fuckin' fighters, man. No sense of the team."

Joan made her way to Cleven's elbow, leaning once more against the bar with his cola. "That was…very gallant, of you, Major."

"No one ought to speak like that about a woman he claims to love," Gale said quietly, gently flexing his fingers and rubbing his hand. "You're very good at your job, Captain. Anyone who says otherwise doesn't know what he's talking about." He met her eye and gave her one of his rare small smiles, and she nodded, accepting the compliment as it had come.

#i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #joan warren #masters of the air au #tds cinematic universe #kurt havermeyer #all the alternate universes

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hooked-on-elvis · 3 months

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Elvis' worry and wholeheartedly support to Priscilla

Elvis was about to film the MGM picture "Speedway". On June 10, Presley and his entourage (wives included) boarded on the Grey Hound bus that George Barris had "customized so lavishly for Elvis". Filming began on 26 June 1967. Scenes were shot at the Charlotte Motor Speedway in Concord, North Carolina.

Great news fell on the Presley family just before the trip began.

Priscilla had her own reasons for resentment. Just before they left on the cross-country trip she found out that she was pregnant. Her first reaction was one of anger. Before the wedding she had asked Elvis if she should start taking birth-control pills, but he was adamantly opposed because, he told her, they had not yet been proven to be medically safe. She saw pregnancy as the end of all their dreams. "If I were pregnant, I knew that our plans to travel would have to be postponed…. For the first year I truly wanted to be alone with Elvis, without any responsibilities or obligations." She approached Elvis with a considerable degree of trepidation. "I expected him to react with the same mixed reactions I felt, but he was ecstatic… and immediately wanted to tell everyone." The instant that it was confirmed, he informed his father that he was going to be a grandfather. "You’re going to be a gray-headed granddaddy," he teased him in the doctor’s waiting room, as father and son shared a moment of unalloyed joy. Priscilla was determined not to let pregnancy interfere with her normal life; "as far as I was concerned, the less people mentioned about my looking pregnant, the better," and she went on a program to lose, rather than to gain, weight. She experienced periods of despondency nonetheless, and she made no attempt to hide her deepest feelings from Joanie Esposito, who observed that "it just took all the glow off." For all of Priscilla’s deep-seated ambivalence, Elvis' own feelings seemed to run remarkably true. When Priscilla, in a moment of despair, confessed that she was contemplating abortion, Elvis said he would support her in whatever she chose to do. Brought face-to-face with the necessity of actually making a decision, she realized she couldn’t go through with it. "'It's our baby,' I said, sobbing. 'I could never live with myself, neither could you.' There were no words, only his smile of approval; he held me tightly in his arms as I cried." And when he announced her pregnancy on the movie set, handing out cigars to cast and crew, he showed nothing but paternal pride, mixed with the understandable bewilderment of most first-time fathers. "This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me," he told reporters. "We really hadn’t planned to have a baby this soon. [When] Priscilla told me the good news… [at first] I was so shocked I didn’t think I could move for a while. Then it began to dawn on me this is what marriage is all about." The Colonel confessed that he, too, was surprised, "but I’ve already got a Contract drawn up for the new Presley singer."

Excerpt: "Careless Love: The Unmaking of Elvis Presley" by Peter Guralnick (1998). Chapter "The Last Round-up: June 1967–May 1968"

The Presleys: Elvis, Lisa Marie and Priscilla

#elvis presley #lisa marie presley #priscilla presley #elvis #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis history #60s elvis

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vecnawrites · 7 months

Text

A Pure Bodypainting Experience

It's Halloween, and Joan is looking forward to the family party that the Arcs hold every year. She and her aunt have matching costumes, after all! However, before they get into them, Cynthia has something she wants to do with her niece...

“Nmmnnppph~!” Joan whined, a blush on her face and doing her best not to wiggle in place as tickly, tingly pleasure washed over her form, starting from her breasts and spreading out and through her body, the wetness spreading along her breasts as she watched her smiling aunt paint her bare breasts with orange paint, her own bust just as bare, covered with orange and black paint from her own work.

A bright giggle from her aunt filled her ears. “Hold still, Joanie~! We don’t want to have to wipe all the paint off and start over again, now do we?” Cynthia teased with a smile as she moved the paintbrush along

Her blush became darker as she remembered just how she had gotten put into this position…

Earlier That Day…

“Hi, Auntie!” Joan chirped as she looked over her Halloween costume this year, a costume of Power Girl that she finally felt confident enough to wear, and she knew that her Aunt had a similar one: Supergirl.

She had always loved doing matching costumes, like when she and Mordred had gone as two of their ancestral family members, Artoria and Jeanne, or when she had managed to convince Saphron and Terra to go as belly dancers (Modest ones! Most of their bodies were actually covered) with her (though she didn’t know why they looked so strained that night...or where the costumes went after that Halloween…)

But while she knew that they had managed to coordinate their costumes, she also wondered why her auntie had asked her to come early, much earlier than she thought she would (it wasn’t even eleven in the morning, and the Halloween Party for the family wasn’t until six this evening), but she wasn’t too bothered by the fact. She loved spending time with her aunt.

Joan found herself engulfed in her aunt’s hug, and wrapped her arms around her in response, giggling softly as she felt their breasts squish together, a hint of guilt filling her. She knew that it felt good, and that always embarrassed her that simply hugging someone could make her feel the way that it did. It was why she hardly ever went without her binder or thick bra, but today there was no need for it.

...so now she was just in her Pumpkin Pete hoodie and a thin undershirt, her boobs tingling and nipples swollen and pressing against the silk.

“So, are you looking forward to the party tonight?” shoving the guilt and mild shame away, Joan smiled brightly, nodding.

“Yes! I’ve been looking forward to it since I got my costume!” she bounced on her feet as she thought about how she would look later, dressed in the outfit of the confident Power Girl. Due to her shyness, she had always found herself drawn to costumes of women that were powerful and confident, wanting to draw on that same confidence for herself.

It was always thrilling, to be someone knew, someone more confident, someone who wasn’t ashamed to show off their body…

Granted, she was much more confident now, but the matter still stood that she loved wearing things that she normally wouldn’t dare wear normally.

And her auntie always helped her find costumes perfect for her, which was sometimes hard, considering how...blessed she was in curves. It always made finding a costume that fit a right pain in her bouncy bubble butt.

She was pulled from her musings as she heard her aunt laugh, the sound merry and happy, only bringing her own joy up as well. “Sweetie, you decided on your costume in May.” she teased, making Joan blush. It wasn’t her fault that she enjoyed dressing up and the parties!

Turning to the side a bit, she forced the pout down that wanted to surface. She was going to Beacon, darn it! Pouting was for children!

She completely missed the small smile that formed on her aunt’s face.

Though she didn’t miss her words. “Hey, Joanie...want to do a little painting project before the party~?” she asked, looking at her with a smile that would send anyone but her running for the hills. But not her. That smile only promised fun.

“Sure, auntie! What are we going to paint?”

Back To Present...

‘What are we going to paint, indeed…’ Joan thought with a dark blush, looking down at her aunt as she dragged the brush laden with orange paint across her breast, the pink of her swollen nipple peeking through since it wasn’t yet painted, the color clashing with the orange.

She was surprised that her whole body wasn’t red. She hadn’t been expecting body painting!

And of course her auntie made her do it to her first! She had been so embarrassed as her aunt shamelessly stripped down to her black thong and put her arms behind her head, thrusting her chest out and telling her to grab a brush and start painting.

And she did, though her hands were so shaky that she had to wipe her aunt’s chest clean and restart.

Then she mismanaged the placement of her brush strokes, meaning she needed to wipe her aunt’s chest clean and start over again.

The third time was the charm, though Joan felt shame as she noticed her aunt’s nipples were swollen and she realized that she had caused that. Thankfully, her aunt didn’t seem to be angry in any way, simply giving her a small smile as she did her best to make her painting job not look as lopsided as she thought it was.

Thankfully, by the time she was done, it wasn’t that bad looking, a single eye and half of the jagged, grinning mouth on each breast.

Looking down, her aunt grinned and bounced on her feet, making her chest bounce wildly, before taking the brush from her and telling her to ‘assume the position’, leaving her like this.

Hands braced on the back of her head, thrusting her embarrassingly large chest out, wearing only her blue side tie bikini panties, which were getting shamefully wet as the brush moved over the flesh of her breasts, her nipples swelling embarrassingly as the pale skin was coated in a healthy coat of orange.

“There’s no need to be shy, Joanie, okay? You’re a beautiful young woman, and this is just for fun~!” that did not help the wetness in her panties to stop, but hey, what could she do?

Tell her aunt, the woman who had helped her through all the awkward things in her life as a Pure Girl, “Hey, this is making my panties a swamp and making me feel really good, can we stop please?”

She wanted to sink into the earth just thinking that.

But she forced the embarrassment down. Her aunt looked so happy doing this with her, and it honestly was fun to do, if embarrassing beyond belief. But then, several of the things that her aunt had done with her had been fun, yet embarrassing.

Finally, the orange was done, and Joan swallowed hard as all that was left was the gaps left for the eyes and mouth…

As her aunt dipped the new brush in black paint, Joan bit down on her lower lip, praying she didn’t make any embarrassing noises…

Though not wanting to make any noise only made the sensations worse as her nipples were stroked by the soft, prickly bristles of the paintbrush, pleasure rushing straight down between her legs.

She fought not to make any noise, quivering in place as her core fluttered, her underwear growing wet as pleasure filled her.

She prayed that her auntie didn’t notice the lines of sticky liquid trailing down her inner thighs…

Finally, the trial was over, and as they wiped themselves clean of the excess paint that was on their forearms and thighs, Joan managed to discreetly wipe herself clean of the fluids that had drooled out of her body.

She sighed softly, wincing a bit as she pulled her panties back up and made sure the tie was secure, feeling the wetness of her own fluids against her skin before she looked at herself in the mirror.

...as embarrassing as it was to admit, the paint job that her aunt did was incredibly well done. If you didn’t know about it, it was almost like she wasn’t topless at all…

...though the chill of the fan blowing across her bare breasts and between her legs wasn’t helping her at all!

She was pulled form her thoughts as she heard her aunt call for her. “Come on, Joan! Let’s take a picture together!”

Blue eyes widened.

Joan blushed as she was pulled against her aunt’s body, their hips bumping together as they stood before her mounted scroll. This was so embarrassing!

But, her aunt was right. She did need to live a little, and well, it wasn’t like either of them were going to go and post this on social media…

Blushing, she made a peace sign with her hand, her other arm wrapped around her aunt’s waist, her aunt matching her and grinning at the camera.

Snap!

Joan watched her aunt bounce (some parts more than others...did she look like that when she moved?) over to the scroll and glance at the picture, smiling brightly before tapping the screen, her own scroll buzzing as she was sent the photo as well.

Glancing at it, she smiled softly, even as her blush threatened to deepen. It really did come out well.

Despite that, she knew that they had to get the paint off, otherwise it would stain their outfits, and she did not want her mother knowing that she had painted her boobs and took a topless photo! She’d be grounded until she was thirty!

“That was fun, auntie...we need to get ready for the party soon, though…” Joan realized, as she checked the time.

“That we do, little knight...that we do...come on, we’ll share a shower to ensure we get all the paint off~” Joan swallowed, but nodded. Her auntie was right, of course, after all, there was nothing wrong with sharing a shower with someone you trusted!

And after this, they’d get to show of their costumes!

Following her auntie up the stairs, Joan felt some eagerness for what was to come later that night fill her, looking forward to the family party.

In the living room, both scrolls sat innocently, both bearing the pictures of the aunt and niece in body paint.

#Painting Pumpkins #Happy Halloween #Pure Girl AU #Joan Arc #Cynthia Arc #Bodypainting #Nudity #Arousal #Embarrassment #Art On AO3

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harryslittlefreakk · 5 months

Text

it’s just us

(late night talking part 5)

summary: the 4th and final night of wembley, y/n and harry reflect on their week together and think about the future 🥹

warnings: super fluff, smut, bf!rry

a/n: i know these 2 are MY imaginary characters but i quite literally giggled and kicked my feet writing this !! i love these 2 so much 🤭 this will be the final ‘proper’ part but i have lots of extras planned! thank you so much to everyone for enjoying this series with me 🥹

you can join my taglist here! and find my masterlist here 🫶🏼 happy reading my loves!

part 1 2 3 4

“Hi, sunshine,” Harry smiled down at you as you awoke. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose, a crinkled and yellowed book in his hands. “Sleep ok?” he asked, setting the book down on the nightstand as you scooted over to nuzzle into his chest. “Meh,” you shrugged, draping an arm over his belly. “Miss you while m’sleeping.”

He laughed at this, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. “Mum and Gem are coming over soon, asked if you want to have lunch with us,” he told you. “Really? I won’t be intruding?” you asked him, nibbling at the skin around your fingernail. “No baby, never.”

“You already missed a whole day with them yesterday, H,” you told him as he tangled his fingers in yours, pulling you into his lap. “Missed it for you, and missed a whole day with you too,” he said, wrapping his arms tight around you. “Just want to enjoy all my girls together, f’you’ll let me.”

“I’ll allow it,” you smiled. “M’a bit nervous though,” you confessed, suddenly frozen with the fear of meeting his closest family. Harry pressed a soft kiss to your lips, pulling one of his arms from around your body to brush stray hairs out of your face. “Don’t need to be nervous darling, they’ll love you.”

You slid off his lap suddenly, rushing to into your wardrobe. “Harry,” you groaned. “I only have one nice outfit and it might be a bit much.” You’d packed with one intention - go to the show, go home, sleep, repeat. You’d bought one fancy dress to wear for dinner with Joanie tomorrow night, your show outfits, and pyjamas and loungewear for the day time. “Show me,” Harry smirked, sauntering over to where you were rooting through your clothes in a frenzy. You yanked the dress of its hanger, slipping Harry’s stolen t shirt off your body before stepping into the dress.

“You look beautiful,” Harry smiled, arms folded across his chest as you twirled for him. It was one of your favourite dresses, a white midi dress with a deep neckline and light blue beach-themed decals dotted all over. You loved the way it looked against your tanned skin in the summer, the way the elastic waist cinched you in. It was simple, but made you feel incredible. “It’s not too much?” you asked Harry, smoothing the front of the skirt with your hands. “No, it’s perfect,” he told you, tapping on his pouted lips to tell you he wanted a kiss.

You padded over to him, peppering kisses all over his face before planting one firmly on his lips and slipping back out of the dress. “Now this is even better,” Harry smirked, stepping forward to land a blow on your ass cheek as you bent to pick up the dress. His strong hands grabbed a hold of your waist before you managed to pick the piece of clothing up, flinging you over his shoulder and marching back towards the bed as you shrieked and kicked. “It’s gonna get creased,” you half-yelled, words almost incoherent through your laughter. “I’ll iron it,” Harry replied, dropping you down onto the bed before climbing over you. He kissed all over your body, holding your arms down as you tried to push him away. The beginnings of stubble tickled you from head to toe, snorting and squealing as you writhed under him.

He stopped suddenly, pausing to gaze over you like an animal planning its attack. Harry moved back towards your face, lingering before you wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him closer. Your noses nudged over each other’s, smiles mirrored on your faces. He kissed you deeply, pulling your thong to the side and sweeping a finger through your folds with his free hand. He always kissed you like every time could be your last, like he never knew how much of your lips life would offer him so he had to savour every moment. It was impossible not to fall in love with him - the way he gave you everything you needed, romantically and sexually, too much to resist.

His thumb rubbed on your clit as his mouth grazed over your cheek, lips dragging slightly before he nibbled at your earlobe. Harry was definitely more sexually experienced than you, evident not just from his skill, but the way that he anticipated what you needed even before you realised. The tiny nip of his teeth sent your back arching, the pain giving you just the edge you needed. “You’re so beautiful,” Harry cooed, his voice delicate against your ear as he rubbed faster at your button. He slid two fingers into you, thumb still rubbing persistent circles against your clit. He found your g-spot almost immediately, knowing your body like the back of his hand by now. “Fuck, Harry, I’m gonna c-” you moaned, hips pressing deeper into the bed as your body tensed. You were cut off by a loud cry tumbling past your lips, thighs clamping around his hand as you came. Harry finally pulled away as you came down from your high, kissing you deeply before padding back to the bathroom, satisfied with his attack.

—

Though he’d wanted to take you all somewhere nice, Harry had settled on ordering food in and enjoying the sun on his hotel room’s balcony, not wanting to risk being spotted with you again so soon, especially before anybody else knew. You were helping him to tidy up his room now, desperate to do something to combat the ball of nerves in your stomach. “Relax, baby,” he told you, pulling you in for a hug. “I can’t, Harry. You only get one chance at a first impression and I’m so nervous about messing up.”

“Did you mess up the first time you met me?”

“No, but I was awkward. And shy. An-“

“And nothin’. You were adorable, even though you w’nervous around me. Now look at us,” he said. “If it gets too much or you need any help just squeeze my leg or something, okay pet?” You nodded, feeling somewhat calmer. You knew Harry could be shy too, and he knew exactly how you were feeling right now. It wasn’t long before the door knocked and Harry pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before opening it, Anne pulling him into a hug as soon as she saw him. “Hi, my darling,” she cooed, eyes crinkling as she looked him up and down. He looked especially adorable today, wearing wide legged jeans with (as he’d told you many times that morning) his favourite brown duck cardigan, a tight fitted white t shirt underneath. You loved his snuggly daytime outfits, and adored what he wore to shows, but seeing him pick out his favourite pieces and the way he styled them was your favourite thing yet.

As soon as she saw you standing meekly behind Harry, Anne almost shoved her son out of the way to take a look at you. He greeted Gemma as she stepped towards you, immediately wrapping you into a warm hug. “You’re beautiful,” she gasped, gripping the tops of your arms as you smiled. “What on earth are you stuck with him for?” Anne laughed, winking at you. “He’s got his perks,” you said. “It’s so lovely to meet you, I hope you don’t mind me being here.”

“Nonsense,” Anne insisted, “we were so excited to meet the girl Harry’s been obsessing over.” He blushed at this, shy smile taking over his face. Gemma pulled you into a hug next, exchanging names and hellos as the four of you walked towards the balcony. Harry wrapped an arm around you as you lingered by the sliding door, calling out to ask if anyone wanted something to drink. “I’ll get them,” he said, fingers dancing against your skin. “You sit, it won’t take a second,” you told him, turning to walk towards the coffee machine.

“You are smitten,” Anne gasped as Harry sat down opposite her, eyes following your every move. He shook his head in his hands, bright smile peeking through his fingers. “I know,” he confessed.

It wasn’t long before conversation turned to the leaked photos, and Anne gave you both a motherly lecture. “It won’t be long until more photos come out. And it won’t just be your face plastered on the front of magazines,” she told you. “I’ve seen first-hand how this information gets about, they will know everything about you, more than you know about yourself sometimes. I don’t want to nag, but if the pair of you are serious then you need to start telling your family and friends before they wake up and see you all over social media.”

“I know,” you sighed, rubbing a hand on Harry’s denim-clad thigh. “I’m just so frightened to be painted as some sort of groupie, like this was my evil little plan all along,” you told her. It was something you hadn’t even spoken to Harry about yet. You knew your friends and family would just be happy for you, but the world wouldn’t see you as someone who just fell in love, you’d be blindly hated by millions of girls. Harry had confided in you a little about the stress that the media creates in a relationship with him, the hatred and vitriol of journalists and ‘fans’ towards any woman he was spotted with. You understood why he wanted to protect this relationship as much as you did, and truthfully you thought he could be even more nervous than you were about going public. “It’s a risk you’ve got to take,” Anne told you. “Besides, within 5 minutes of walking into this room I could see how besotted you are with each other, and you’d have all of us behind you both, sweetheart.” You knew she was right, and your first hurdle would be telling Joanie.

—

Harry had booked a car to take the four of you to Wembley, having promised his mum and Gemma a behind the scenes look at everything going on. It was one of their favourite parts of him touring, he’d told you, seeing the tiny touches of him in his dressing room and stepping out onto the stage, imagining what it was like for him. Even after seeing it so many times, it never got any less incredible. “This is amazing, Harry, I can’t believe you get to do this every day.”

“Joy of my life,” he grinned, watching the three best women in his life looking out across the empty stadium. He picked up the tiny blue polaroid camera that sat in the wings, ready to capture little pictures of his band and his team. “Smile,” he called out. The three of you shuffled into position, arms around each other as you beamed in his direction. Anne insisted on taking a few of you and Harry next, 3 different pictures so you could all hold onto a copy.

“You gonna stick around?” he asked you, pulling you tight against his front. You checked the time on your phone, sighing as your head lulled back onto his shoulder. “I should go, Harry. Want to get a good view for my favourite concert.” He laughed against the top of your head, promising to walk you out once you’d all exchanged goodbyes.

“I’m gonna talk to Joanie tonight,” you told him. Your heart hammered in your chest at the very idea, but you knew how hurt she’d be if she found out via the press. It just seemed so soon, despite the fact that you’d usually tell her everything about who you were seeing, from the second you’d first laid eyes on them. It was all so different with Harry, and you knew it wouldn’t change your friendship with Joanie but it would definitely take over things for a while. “You sure?” Harry asked, fingers dancing across your forearm. You nodded. “Just want to get it out of the way. Feel like you’re my dirty little secret,” laughing through the nerves. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “you scared?”

“So fucking scared.”

With this, Harry grabbed your arm, pulling you in a complete different direction than where you’d been heading. He dragged you into his dressing room, locking the door behind you before pressing you up against the door, legs wedged between yours. He was looking at you with the same animalistic gaze you’ve grown to understand, his breath hot against your mouth.

His lips ghosted over yours, tongue slipping past your teeth and licking circles around yours. You could feel him growing against your inner thigh, the tiniest taste of your lips enough to make him want more of you. Harry slid his hands behind you, palming at your soft ass before scooping you up and placing you down on the vanity, eyes dark with hunger as he gazed over you. “So perfect,” he whispered, hand cupping the nape of your neck as he dived in for another taste of your soft lips. He was insatiable, starved when it came to your pleasure - always like it was the first and last time he’d touch you, needing as much of you as he could get.

Harry bundled your dress up around your hips, groaning when he saw the wet spot on your panties, crisp from where your cream had soaked into them earlier in the day. He’d insisted you keep them on, the heavy material a reminder of how good he could make you feel. “Y’already wet for me, baby?” he rasped, slipping your tiny panties from your legs and stuffing them into his pocket. “Got you all worked up, huh?” Harry smirked as you shivered, the slightest brush of his fingers against your entrance shooting electricity through you. He licked the pad of his thumb before pressing it to your clit, leaning down to nip at your jawline when you whimpered beneath him. “Too sensitive, just fuck me please,” you whined, hips rocking back and forth to try to relieve some of the pressure that bubbled up inside of you with his one touch.

“Daddy’s needy little princess,” Harry cooed, lips soft against your cheek as he unbuttoned his jeans and let his hard cock spring free. He spat in his hand and rubbed it over his tip, guiding himself towards the centre of your parted legs. He entered you slow, one hand slipping under the bundle of fabric around your waist to grip onto your hip as he stilled inside of you, a groan slipping out as he felt your walls relax around his shaft. “More, H,” you pleaded, hooking your ankles around his back. He pulled out of you, looking down to see his head enveloped by your folds, cock twitching at the sight of your pretty pink lips wet around him. He fucked into you fast, thrusts brutal as he slammed his hips into you, catching you off guard. Every single time his tip hit your sweet spot you were crying out, your earlier orgasm only leaving you hungrier for him. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold on to to keep you grounded. It was as if you were on the outside looking in, watching your head lull back as he fucked into you, soul hovering somewhere separate to your body. He shifted slightly, angling you slightly upwards to hit a new, deeper angle inside of you. “So fucking big, so deep,” you whined, words tumbling out as you lost yourself in his cock. Your thighs tensed around his hips, pulling him tighter into your core as if there were anymore of him to take. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, the heat in your core bursting apart and rolling into every inch of your body. You cried out his name as you reached your climax, eyes rolling back in your head and stars all around you.

He’d never get enough of seeing you fucked out, cheeks pink and rosebud lips parted as you panted. It could send him over the brink in an instant, the combination of your walls spasming around his length as you came down from your high and the sight of what he’d done to you forcing his hot come out of him, even taking him by surprise as he painted your inner walls white. A hot and dirty little quickie was exactly what you both needed to clear your minds, keep your focus only on each other.

“Helped your nerves?” Harry grinned, wiping away a stray tear from your eye. You laughed, still dazed from your high. He slipped two fingers inside of you as he pulled out, stuffing his come back into your entrance. “You okay, sweet girl?” he asked you, helping your shaky legs to land back on the carpeted floor. “Mmm,” you hummed appreciatively, wrapping your arms around his chest as you fell into him, unsteady on your feet. “Took my cock so good, huh? Left you all broken?” Harry mewled, words muffled against your hair. He slipped an arm around your waist as you stepped away from him, holding you up as he unlocked the door. “Come on, I’ll get my driver to take you home,” he smiled, content in his post orgasm bliss.

—

“I need to tell you something,” you said, words bursting out when you finally couldn’t bite them back any longer. “What?” Joanie asked as she dropped her phone into her lap. You handed her the same gift bag Harry had given you, the necklace and note placed inside with two of the polaroids you’d taken earlier. “There isn’t a pregnancy test in here, is there?” she gasped, blue eyes wide. “No! It’s about what I’ve been up to this week,” you smiled, eyes glinting, suddenly brimming with excitement to finally tell her everything.

Joanie pulled out the pictures first, squinting at them both she passed them between her hands. She looked up at you, back down at the pictures, back up to you. Mouth agape, brows furrowed as she reached back into the gift bag. She pulled out the note next, unfolding it gently before her eyes grazed over the writing. “What the hell,” she whispered, searching in your eyes for any hint of mischief, certain this was some kind of elaborate prank. You picked up the necklace box, turning it in Joanie’s direction before you opened it and showed her the pendant inside.

“What is this?” she murmured, frozen still except for her eyes wandering over each item. “This is who I’ve been seeing,” you squeaked. You peeked out through scrunched up eyes, unable to gage her reaction at all. She gasped suddenly, drawing a hand to her mouth. “This is where he was pictured, in this hotel.”

You waited for it to hit her, the pieces already slotting together in her head but not making sense yet. “Call him,” she demanded suddenly. “If this is real then you have his number.” You giggled, pulling up your text chain in your phone.

y/n: do u have a second to call? X

Joanie grabbed the phone from you as you turned it around to show her, scrolling quickly through your messages. She paused on the first message he’d sent you, his pre-show selfie. Just as she started to zoom in on the picture, your phone started buzzing with a call. She thrust it back into your hands quickly, whisper-shouting for you to answer. “Hi love, you okay?” Harry asked, his slight northern rasp a clear giveaway now. Joanie fell back into the bed, hands clutched over her heart as she kicked at the bed, all the pieces finally coming together in her mind. “I’m okay Harry,” you laughed, watching your best friend thrash around. “Just got instructed to call you to prove you’re real.”

“Hi Joanie,” Harry called out, laughing as she squealed in the background. “I’ll let you get back to your dinner, meet me later?”

“Of course sweet girl, let y’know when I’m done,” Harry said before hanging up the call.

“Oh my fucking god, y/n! What the actual fuck?” Joanie shrieked, bolting back upright. “I know!” you laughed, grabbing a hold of her hands as you squealed with her. You told her everything, from the way you met him by chance, to your first kiss, the ‘date’ he set up for you, and everything in between.

“It sounds mental saying it out loud, I’ve felt nuts all week,” you told her, running your hands over your face. “It is nuts,” she said, still blinking quickly, trying to clear some of the shock clouding her mind. “He’s incredible, honestly. It’s been the most insane week of my life, and it’s been so difficult to keep it from you. But it’s such a big thing, it’s like, life changing already even without people knowing,” you sighed.

“Do you think he could be the one? Joanie asked. “He could be,” you grinned. “If things keep going as they are, I don’t see why we couldn’t make it.”

“I need to fucking scream. Harry fucking Styles! The Harry Styles could be your one. No wonder he was looking at you like that the entire show, here I thought he just fancies you. Turns out you luuurve each other,” Joanie babbled, throwing herself back against the mattress again, shaking her head in her hands.

Harry really had been focused on you for the whole concert, your position only a few rows back in Jonny’s place meaning he could see you clearly throughout the entire thing. Knowing that you were going to explain it all to Joanie anyway gave him permission to be as flirty as he wanted, acting as if you were the only person watching. You were certain your pre-show activities had riled him up to end too, and thank god you’d jumped his bones before watching him up there. Shirtless under his overalls, thick biceps and tanned chest on display, he’d looked delicious. He got you hot under the collar anyway, but to see the way he was acting while looking like that, you could’ve easily blown off telling Joanie in favour of getting fucked into a coma by your favourite man. “Come on, let’s get you home,” you laughed, suddenly burning up as you thought about your man. “And not a word to Tom,” you warned, jabbing Joanie in the ribs as you stood up.

You messaged Harry to let him know you wouldn’t be long, you were only walking Joanie to the nearest tube station so just long enough for Harry to finish his meal with Anne and Gemma before coming to meet you.

Once you’d hugged Joanie goodbye and promised to give her the details of your evening with Harry, you lingered by the entrance of the station, bouncing on your heels as you waited for him. It was so silly but so exciting, meeting him in a public place and not worrying about prying eyes or how you’d explain your appearance on the front of tabloids to your best friend. You could hear laughter from across the street, and your heart bubbled in your chest when you looked over. There he was, laughing and joking with fans he’d bumped into. You strolled towards him, somewhat subconsciously, drawn to his presence. Harry glanced over to see who was approaching and his face lit up, a huge toothy grin taking over his features. “Thank you girls, I’ve got to run,” he smiled at the young fans, eyes sparkling as he watched you where you stopped, leant against the wall just a few feet away from him. “Hi darling,” he grinned, whipping out an enormous bouquet of roses from behind his back. You gasped, eyes flitting between the flowers and his smile as he held them out for you, planting a gentle kiss to your lips as your hands met around the paper-clad stems. They were the biggest and probably most beautiful roses you’d ever seen. Twice the size of the ones you’d see in supermarket aisles, the perfect pale pink and ivory. “They’re incredible, H. What did I do to deserve these? Or what did you do?” you laughed, taking a big sniff of the floral scent. “Jus’ saw them and thought of you,” he smiled, taking your free hand in his. “This is nice,” you told him, head resting against his arm as you walked. He hummed appreciatively, squeezing your hand in his.

“Look, H!” you pointed, spotting a familiar sight that you hadn’t noticed before. The starbucks where you’d first met, only 5 days yet somehow a lifetime ago. “Can you imagine if we hadn’t both gone there?”

“Can you imagine if I didn’t work up the courage to talk t’you?” Harry laughed, tugging you across the road to get a coffee.

—

“How many kids are we going to have?”

“Hm?” you looked over at Harry, swilling the last dregs of your latte around the walls of the cup. You were back on his balcony now, looking out over the city that had brought you your love. It was so comfortable now, so right between the two of you that even sitting there in silence felt like something you’d done so many times, for so many years. It was scary, terrifying and yet so exciting. You were almost waiting for the other shoe to drop, scared to look around the corner in case a secret girlfriend or personality change was waiting to trip you up.

Harry repeated himself, lips curving into a tiny smirk. “Start with one and see how that one turns out I think,” you told him. He laughed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he looked over you. He watched you like he wanted to drink in everything about you, searching for any new detail to memorise.

“What are you thinking about, princess?” he asked you, noticing how lost in thought you were.

“I’m just frightened, H. It’s only been 5 days,” you told him, looking over at him with big brown eyes. “I know, sweet girl. S’a lot so soon, huh?” he replied, holding one of your hands to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. You nodded, “yeah. And I- not that I don’t think we could work but it’s scary. Having the world know my name and forever being associated with you if the distance is too much.”

“Then come with me,” he pleaded, “be my little groupie.” He was smirking now, though his eyes remained serious. “I can’t, Harry,” you groaned. “It’s too late notice to take any longer off work and not all of us are rich.”

“Then quit your job. Let me help you just until the tour finishes and then you can find something else.”

“You are so out of touch,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t just quit my job, not work my notice and then expect something else to come up in a month.”

“Says who?”

“Says the world, you doughnut.”

“Marry me.”

“Harry! You are so insane,” you shrieked.

“I’m serious. Marry me, be with me forever, have my babies.” He really was dead serious, toying with his rings as he looked at you.

“I am not marrying you after 5 days.”

“Then we’ll just date.“

“Date?”

He stood up as you questioned him, suddenly rushing out of the hotel room. You followed him slowly, laughing as he knocked on the door. “Come in,” you called out. “Open it, woman,” Harry shouted, fist banging on the wood again. He was standing there grinning as you opened it to let him back in, totally confused by what he was up to.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he started, holding out a hand for you to shake. “I know we’ve just met but I’m falling in love with you, and I’d love to take you out tomorrow night.”

EEEEE!!!!! my little loves. i thought this was a nice place to end it but rest assured i have about 7 ideas for extras already half drafted so this won’t be the last you see of these 2!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

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