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#this is the best thing ive ever written
simphornies · 2 months
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A/N: The Alastor x Reader x Lucifer fic nobody asked for <3 I hope you all enjoy
Word count: 3.3k (3,360) Warnings: THIS IS LITERALLY SMUT AND SMUT AND SMUT. MINORS DNI.
Our Darling Angel - [ Alastor x F!Reader x Lucifer ]
You spent the day driving your boyfriends insane. There was no absolute reason for it besides one thing: the consequences for it.
Charlie had thrown a party, inviting everyone she could to from the seven rings to the hotel in hopes of recruiting new sinners. With Lucifer’s help, plenty of them came. Moreso for the alcohol but the sight of so many demons in the hotel filled Charlie with enough joy that she settled for it, enjoying the party to the fullest.
You donned a beautiful gown that hugged your curves perfectly and showed enough skin to rile up your partners. Alastor wasn’t allowed to kill anybody during the party but he definitely took note of who tried to push their advances on you. His eyes twitched from rage, his smile wide and almost menacingly tight. He kept watch from a distance, watching over you from the balcony on the second floor.
Lucifer, on the other hand, was the one on the floor with you to whisk you away from audacious demons that would try to dance with you. You noticed how they were both on the edge and a little idea popped into your head. You gave Lucifer a kiss on the cheek after telling him to go relax and have fun, wind down and grab some drinks from the bar.
“Hey, Y/N! Did you want anythin—” He turned to face where you were to see that you were gone. He looked around frantically and glanced up at where Alastor was, hoping you were beside him. All he saw was the irritation evident on his face. His ears pinned flat against his head. Alastor looked at Lucifer and tilted his head over to the direction you were in. When Lucifer got to look, you were on the dance floor, dancing away with some lowly sinner.
Lucifer, seething with jealousy at the sight of someone else’s hands on you, started to walk towards you but stopped in his tracks at the sight of your smile.
You loved to dance, often doing so with Alastor and Lucifer. He decided not to stop you and sighed in defeat. He grabbed two drinks before heading up to where Alastor was.
You felt their gazes on you the entire time, often sneaking a glance at them as you were spun around and passed onto another dance partner. They were jealous. Painfully and obviously jealous.
The music changed and both of your beloveds’ ears perked up. Alastor’s hair fluffed up in rage and Lucifer was doing his absolute best to maintain his composure. It was undoubtedly requested by Asmodeus. The music was sensual, usually intended for couples. You were in the middle of it all, thriving off of the spotlight.
They watched you intently, desperately wanting to whisk you away and take the place of whoever was your partner. Their claws were practically digging into whatever surface they were on, leaving behind scratch marks.
Everyone was in sync, so they somewhat understood that this is how the dance is supposed to go. But the way your hips were touched, the way you swayed them, the way you were spun and the way you bent backward onto the hand on your back, they couldn’t take it any longer.
Lucifer was the first to go, excusing himself to go to your shared bedroom. Alastor followed not too long after.
.
You had the time of your life, drinking and dancing the night away. You bid everyone farewell, giving the guests the little pamphlets Charlie made to advertise the hotel. Your feet were sore from moving in the heels and after wishing everyone a good night, you head up into your room.
“I’m here!” You announced as you walked into the room. Lucifer was on the bed, impatiently waiting for you. He practically ran over to you and hugged you like you almost died. “Luci—”
“I just…missed you.” He says as he looks up at you with the most heartwarming puppy dog eyes.
You smile sweetly, running your fingers through his golden locks. “I live with you.” You giggled.
“I can miss you even if you’re next to me all the time!” He huffed.
You laughed and pushed him away gently. “I have to go shower. Keep my side warm for me!” You ran to the bathroom to wash off the sweat and soothe your muscles. As soon as you got out and dried yourself off, you put on a silk robe that Alastor gifted you. You left the bathroom stretching your sore arms out. Lucifer glanced at you from the bed with a look in his eyes, you couldn’t quite catch it since he turned around too fast. “Where’s Ala—”
You felt hands grab you from behind, causing you to instinctively tense up. “Did you enjoy yourself, my dear?” Alastor asked, rubbing your shoulders gently.
“Alastor!” You grinned, “Yes I did. Did you see me killing it on the dance floor? If it was a competition, I think I would’ve won if I do say so myself.” You said, beaming with pride completely unaware of the lust filled looks you received from both of them as Alastor walked you to the bed.
“Oh we sure did see you, darling!” Alastor responds, jealousy evident in his voice. He leaned closer to your ear, whispering in his low and radio laced voice, “We sure watched you.”
His voice sent shivers down your spine. The moment you were on the bed, Lucifer gently turned your head with a soft hand. “You looked like you had fun, babe. Putting on a beautiful show like that.” He was dangerously close to your face, causing you to let out a gasp.
“I-I’m glad you enjoyed it—”
Before you could continue, Alastor grabs your face with his hand, turning it so you face him, “Enjoyed? What is there to enjoy after seeing filthy sinners touch you like that? So…provocatively.”
Your face warmed up and you were unsure if it was from the heat that radiated from them being so close or if it was from the instant arousal at the subtle growl in their voices.
“Don’t tell me you two are jealous?” You teased, pushing your luck. “If you two wanted to dance with me, you should’ve said so!”
In an instant, you were on your back with your head in Alastor’s lap as he held your wrists together with his shadows. Your hips held in place by Lucifer. It didn’t take long for you to see and feel the tightness in their pants.
“Darling. You are ours and ours alone, or have you forgotten?” Alastor questioned, his eyes darkened and his smile was menacing.
“I think she needs a reminder that she doesn’t need any other hands on her, Al.” Lucifer smirks at you. 
You gulped and started to nervously laugh, “I-I know! I'll never forget that!”
“The way you allowed such filth to touch you in such a way, dance or not, tells us you’ve forgotten. I believe you need a reminder of who you truly belong to.”
You squeezed your thighs tightly together only for them to be pried open by Lucifer with ease. Lucifer unties your robe, exposing your whole self to them both. He chuckled as he saw how you dripped with delight.
“Did we excite you, sweetheart?” Lucifer asked, teasing your entrance with soft grazes. You gasped at the feeling of his cold fingers running up and down, passing by your clit without touching it.
“And no underwear, dear? My, you must have been expecting this!” Alastor exclaimed. “You’re not allowed to cum unless we say so, understood?”
You nodded and thrusted your hips to beg for more of Lucifer’s attention. “Ah ah, baby~” He tuts, “You don’t get to have a say on how tonight goes. Not after that display you put on.” He slides a finger inside of you slow enough for you to whine about it. He held your hips down, not allowing you to buck your hips for more.
“You can take this, can’t you darling?” Alastor teased, his hand caressing your cheek softly, “After all, this is your own doing.”
Lucifer pumped his finger in and out of you, curling it as soon as he’s fully inside to rub the spot he knew you loved the most. You let out a sinful moan as he does, wriggling underneath them both. Alastor’s hand travels from your cheek to your breasts, massaging them. His grins widen at the sounds you made underneath him.
Lucifer pulled his finger out of you, admiring the arousal that coated it. You let out a desperate whine at him, “Pl-please.” You whimpered, looking at him with lust filled eyes. “More please, Luci.”
Without a second’s notice he moved his head down to your entrance.He held your thighs open and ravaged your insides with his tongue. You shake underneath them, eyes looking up at Alastor. His eyes and ears were blessed with your audible pleasure. Lucifer didn’t stop at just using his tongue. His finger played with your clit, giving it undivided attention as he licked you up. The knot in your stomach tightened itself. You squirm, “Ah~ L-Luci!” You felt your climax inching closer and closer as well as Lucifer did. He felt your walls tighten around his busy tongue but that only sped him up.
He undressed himself, his cock springing out from his tight pants oozing with pre-cum.
“What are you begging for, Y/N?” Lucifer teased as Alastor traced your chin with his finger. “Speak up, my love.”
“Now now, you’re far too kind to her after that tantalizing show she put on for us.” Alastor hums, his hands wrapping your throat loosely, “Beg.”
“Please please fuck me Lucifer! Please!” You whined, prying your eyes from Alastor’s deep gaze. He hums at your pleading, eyeing you with a smirk on his face. He lined himself up but remained still at your entrance.
He leaned closer to the side of your head, whispering into your ear. “And why should I?” His voice was deeper than usual, a slight growl coated his words and his grip on your hips tightened.
“You seemed awfully comfortable with other hands on you, my dear!” Alastor’s grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly, “My…they might believe that anyone can touch what’s ours.”
“No! No. Never again. I won’t let it happen ag—” You gasped as Lucifer shoved himself into you. You threw your head back on Alastor’s lap and felt the tent in his lap. He let out a low growl when he felt your cheek graze it.
Lucifer thrusted into you no mercy, not giving you an opportunity to think. Alastor moved you off of him to undress. Your mind melted every time Lucifer moved in and out of you, his cock never missing your sweet spot. “Your body was made perfectly for this, baby.” His voice was shaky, losing himself in his own pleasure.
For a moment, you felt him pull out. Before you could whine from the emptiness you were flipped onto your knees, now on all fours. He slammed himself back inside of you, his cock hitting your cervix. Your walls tightened around him, screaming his name over and over
Alastor was on his knees in front of you, his own cock twitching for attention. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking it ever so slightly to make you look up at him. “Eyes on me, darling.” His eyes were dark, filled with lust as he gazed into yours. “I believe you know what to do.”
You nod and take him into your mouth practically drooling for it. Every thrust Lucifer did pushed you to take more of him in, hitting the back of your throat. Alastor grinned and stroked your hair, “Good girl.” Your focus was nonexistent but you tightened at his praise.
“Y-You’re going to milk me, baby. Fuck you’re so tight.” Lucifer growls into your ear, voice low and deep. Your muffled begging made him smirk, “You’re going to take it all in right? Every. Last. Drop?” He thrusted at every word. He slammed himself into you, burying himself to the hilt as you felt him shoot strings of warmth inside. You couldn’t hold yourself in any longer and came around him, moaning as Alastor’s cock was deep in your throat as your body shook in pleasure. The vibrations of your moan made him let out a low growl of pleasure. They both tutted in disapproval upon realizing what you had done.
“Oh my darling little doe…” Alastor caressed your cheek, his claw grazing it slightly. “You weren’t allowed to do that.” Without a warning he thrusted into you, fucking your mouth without mercy. His movements pushed you back and forth on Lucifer’s cock, still hard and raring to go like when he first started.
You were lost in the pleasure, no longer aware of anything they’re saying. Your eyes rolled back, surrendering your body to both demons with no regard for your physical state tomorrow. You felt Alastor twitch on your tongue and you immediately took it upon yourself to regain whatever strength you had to suck him as he went. He made sure your eyes stayed on him the whole time, admiring your submissiveness and the way you took him in. “So beautiful taking me in like that.” He wiped the tears that streamed down your cheek, “So gorgeous. I bet you’re hungry, starving even. I bet you’d love to take it all in your throat, wouldn’t you?” His horns got bigger as he got closer to his climax, he was fucking your mouth faster now. “Be a dear and swallow it all. It’d be a shame if you missed a drop.” His ears twitched with delight as he finally thrusted his entire length as deep as it can go. You felt him shoot into you and you held onto his legs, drinking it all up like you would die if you didn’t.
“What a good girl for us. Taking us all in.” Lucifer purred. They both slowly pulled out of you, Lucifer’s cum flowing out of your cunt. “What a sight.” He smirked. You pant in a desperate attempt to catch your breath. Your legs felt like jelly, your hips definitely bruised from the way Lucifer grabbed onto them. You couldn’t focus your vision but you could see them shift around on the bed, Alastor now behind you with Lucifer in front. His fingers run through your hair as he hums softly to you.
“Angel,” He says softly. You let out a weak sound to respond to him, looking up into his red eyes. His soft expression faded into a lust filled one. “You aren’t done quite yet.” He smirks.
Before your brain could process it, you feel yourself getting flipped on your back with Alastor now gripping your hips. His sudden thrust into you almost made you cum right there. You screamed out his name in Alastor, your attempts to muffle yourself into the sheets were futile. Lucifer placed your head on his thigh, “Let us hear your beautiful voice.”
Alastor’s smile twitched, “You’re being too nice, Lucifer.” He speaks, thrusting into you at a fast and steady pace, “If this little doll can’t hold herself back from cumming…” His grin grew wider, “Then she’s going to have to cum over and over until we’re done.”
You were a moaning, drooling mess. You were drunk off of the pleasure and praise you got from them. The more you moaned, the more you got praised and the wilder Alastor moved in and out of you. It wasn’t long until that familiar warmth in your stomach returned quicker than before.
“A-Alastor.” You gasped, “I c-can’t. Can I—Fuck—Can I please cum?” You begged, repeating yourself over and over. Lucifer caresses your cheek with such softness that it countered the roughness Alastor gave you.
“Sweet girl askin’ so nicely.” Lucifer purrs as he hovers over you with delight, “Look him in the eyes and ask properly, princess.” He moves your head, making you stare directly into Alastor’s hungry stare.
“Please, Alastor. Please. Please.” You pleaded, “Please let me cum, Alastor, please.” Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes once more from the unrelenting, nonstop pleasure Alastor blessed upon you.
He grinned widely, “Such a good girl.” He thrusts with reckless abandon. You shake underneath him, your release on the brink of exploding. “Wait.”
Waiting was torture. He didn’t allow you a moment to breathe or catch your thoughts. Your walls tightened around him, warning him of what’s to come which made him slow down to delay your release. You continued to beg between breaths while Lucifer smiled ever so sweetly at the sight of you getting fucked silly. In an attempt to distract yourself, you took him into your mouth making him gasp in surprise.
“Oh! Princess hasn’t had enough?” He teased, repositioning himself for you to suck him better. “Would you like another one, angel? Another load down that lovely throat of yours.”
You hummed in agreement, licking his shaft with the same hunger you gave Alastor earlier. He showered you with praise, gently thrusting himself in your mouth. He was the gentle half that balanced Alastor’s roughness. Though they both showered you with praise, his was sweeter.
Alastor tuts once he loses your attention. “Don’t hog her mind with your words, Lucifer.”
“Oh, but look how good she’s being.” He hums, “You’re the one hogging her mind. Look at the mess she’s become.”
He huffed and pounded into you wildly, making you scream against Lucifer’s cock. Your legs shook at the pleasure, your begging returned once more. “Be a good girl for me, baby.” Alastor purrs, leaning down to your ear. “Cum.” He whispers. Without hesitation, you came wildly around Alastor.
“Ah~” Lucifer moaned, “Your voice—Scream louder for us angel, make Hell remember our names once more.” His thrusts got wilder as he got closer to your own release. You worked hard to please him, using whatever strength you could muster to pump the base of his dick as you bobbed your head up and down to meet his thrusting.
“Thank you. Thank you!” You screamed, “Alastor! Lucifer! Thank you so much!”
Without warning, the two of them released deep into you, Alastor in your cunt and Lucifer in your throat. They pulled out of you once their spurts had stopped, panting from their release. No words needed to be shared for them to immediately care for you. Lucifer wiped you clean with a warm wet towel and Alastor did the same for your face. He cleaned up your face, working from your eyes to your mouth. As soon as the three of you weren’t as sticky as before, Lucifer crawled under the covers on your left, Alastor on your right after he gave you some water to soothe your throat from all the hard work.
You were gently squished in between them, your head on Alastor’s chest and Lucifer’s head on yours. You nuzzled into Alastor while Lucifer did the same to your soft tits. “You did so good, angel.” He spoke softly.
“Our good little girl.” Alastor hums, stroking your hair. You felt the sleep creep up on you, as it did to them. “Now, you’ll stay by our side during events, right?” He says as he plants a kiss on the top of your head.
“Mhhm.” You said softly, “Thank you.”
The three of you drifted off into sleep, cuddled up on each other. You had a feeling you’d mess with them a lot more if it led to nights like this.
.
“Charlie. We need to soundproof that fucking room.” Vaggie groaned, finally taking her hands off her ears. “I’m going to throw up.” 
“I don’t know, it was pretty hot hearing fancy talk creepy voice and hell’s big dick going at it.” Angel winked, “Makes me feel all hot~” He says, leaning into a flustered Husk.
“Meet me in my room.” Husk grumbles, flying away with an excited Angel Dust trailing not too far behind him.
“I’m…Going out.” Charlie left, traumatized with Vaggie following after her.
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harrygoeswest · 9 months
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COMING THIS WEEKEND
~~~
It took you an embarrassing amount of time to reach the cabin, thanks to not only the rain but also the brutal wind. When you finally reached the porch you fell onto it, greeted by the most intense relief you’d ever felt. You took a minute to recover from your exercise, and then fumbled around on the dark porch for the stone your brother had left the key under.
“Aha.” Delighted when you found it, you pulled the key out of the rock and shoved it in the door, unlocking it.
Heat floated over your body, as did warm, homey light. Weird. Why were the lights on?
Then did your eyes land on the thing that was most definitely out of place. 
A loud, shrill scream ripped from your body.
A man was in the cabin. A naked man. Mostly. The only thing saving him and you was the towel wrapped around his waist. Shiny back, muscly arms, damp neck, wet hair. At the sound of your wail he turned around, equally as alarmed.
“What the-?”
In his panic, the grip he had on his towel slipped, and you were given more of an eyeful than you ever bargained for. 
You screamed again and reached for the closest thing to you, then lurched it across the room at him. Then your brain caught up with you, and you pulled the door closed again, separating you from him. You were back outside in the cold.
That man wasn’t just anyone. He’d never been just anyone. He was your sister-in-law’s friend. He was your brother’s boss, to a degree. He was your worst fucking nightmare rolled into physical human form.
He was Harry fucking Styles.
~~~
PART 1 - SATURDAY 5TH AUGUST, 9PM BST PART 2 - SUNDAY 6TH AUGUST, 9PM BST
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dootdootwriting · 2 years
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hihi! can I request a romantic kazuha x reader fic, when he returns home from wandering around? thank you!
with love,
-🧊☕️
i leave for so long and when i get back i have emoji anons...... this is the best day of my life clearly i've made it as a writer/hj
also i have over 700 followers now i dont know how THAT happened but i'm glad u guys like my words!!
sorry i've been gone for so long :,) turns out finishing high school is kind of a big deal ?? but i'm back now so :) hit me w ur requests and im so sorry again LMAO
..
pairing: kazuha x reader; platonic thoma, ayaka, & ayato x reader tw: mentions of loneliness; uhhhhhh inazuma quest spoilers i suppose????, beidou lifts an entire anchor by herself because listen to me when i tell you this woman is BUILT. wife. this isnt a trigger but it IS important. type: written, (angst to(?)) fluff, this is SO cheesy somebody shoot me PLEASE my brain is ROTTING pronouns: NONE LOL :D
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KAZUHA had left only a day or two after the vision hunt decree had been lifted. Though he was no longer considered an enemy of the state, he'd told you he'd still felt uncomfortable, that people still trailed their gazes after him, and that he still hid instinctively sometimes from Kujou Sara and her men.
It made sense, of course. And since he'd been helping aboard captain Beidou's ship for so long, she'd gladly offered to let him tag along with her crew for a while longer to help take the edge off things. Kazuha was grateful, and though he promised he'd miss you (and you knew he would), you could tell he was relieved when he boarded the ship one more time.
It had been around four months since he'd left.
Letters had been delivered, written full of everything he'd seen and sometimes delivered with foreign flowers that had reminded him or you or trinkets fashioned from grass or tree bark in his spare time. From the words on the pages, you could tell he was making the most of his journey, and that taking in so many new places was, for him, the best of vacations.
For you, however, it meant loneliness.
You had your friends, who you would meet up with from time to time at Komore Teahouse. You would engage in ridiculous hotpot games with the Kamisatos and Thoma. You would pet Taroumaru's obnoxiously, adorably fluffy pelt. And while these were excellent pastimes and helped get your mind away from Kazuha for a few moments, your thoughts always circled back to him in the end.
So when finally, after three and a half months of waiting, you got a letter saying he was on his way back, you were overjoyed. You told everyone you could think of. Ayaka laughed with you and gave you a bear hug (then quickly coughed and apologized, though you told her she had nothing to worry about). Taroumaru barked happily and wagged his tail, too polite a dog to jump on you. Thoma congratulated you loudly from his seemingly permanent abode of the bathroom, and Ayato smiled sincerely at you, which seemed to be about the most he could do without laughing at Thoma's predicament (poor guy).
And all this led to you now, feet planted firmly on the docks despite your nervous stomach seeming to be in your throat, eyes trained desperately on the horizon for any sign of the Alcor and its fleet. News had come yesterday that it would be arriving shortly, and, being so kind and incredibly connected, Thoma had delivered the news to you.
Finally, after what seemed like days but was most likely just over an hour, something caught your eye. It seemed like just a shadow at first, but it quickly became more visible, and with it the sound of a whistling tune only one person could make. Kazuha sat, as laid-back as ever, in the crow's nest, a blade of grass in hand at his lips. The lookout officially on duty tapped him a few times on the shoulder and pointed at the docks, and Kazuha quickly sat up, eyes darting around to find you.
It wasn't long before he did, and with the Crux coming in so quickly, you could spot the exact moment when he spotted you. Kazuha's entire face lit up into a grin so wide you'd probably only seen it on him once before. His hair whipped about into his face and out into the wind, and he waved with both hands stretched as far as he could, letting go of the blade of grass he had been playing just a moment before. It danced out into the wind, and by the time you couldn't see it anymore, the Alcor had pulled up to the dock, and Beidou waved to you before hoisting the anchor overboard.
Kazuha wasted no time. Almost like a cat, he leapt from his perch and hit the deck of the ship so hard you almost worried if he'd injured himself. You didn't have the time to, however, because as soon as his feet touched the Alcor, Kazuha was running toward you at full speed, swooping you up in his arms and laughing to the point where, if you were able to catch a glimpse of his face while yours was buried in his shirt, you would have noticed tears.
"I missed you," he said, and it wasn't loud. It was almost whispered, so quiet that only the two of you could hear it.
"I missed you, too," you replied, and without another word, Kazuha grabbed your face uncharacteristically roughly and pressed his lips against yours. It felt like he kissed you for almost as long as you'd been waiting for him to come back. Though the world moved along outside, the two of you were in your little bubble, as if the archons had been so merciful as to grant you a little pocket of immortality to enjoy just this once.
Kazuha pulled away after a few moments, cheeks flushed as red as the autumn leaves he adored so much. You felt heat rush into yours as well.
"Do you want to do anything now that you're back? I can help you carry things if you need," you offered, your hand finding its home holding his.
"Let's just go home," Kazuha answered, his own hand squeezing yours in response.
After all this time waiting, you think, you are more than happy to oblige.
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inkskinned · 10 months
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so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.
this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.
somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.
i used betterhelp.
i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.
the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.
they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.
the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.
i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."
i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.
the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.
i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.
in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.
the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.
betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.
i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.
there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.
in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.
i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.
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didhewinkback · 1 year
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Something Old: Part Three
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word count: 13k (jesus); story page
warnings: smut, google translate italian
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Fingertips dragged up and down your spine as you were slowly roused from sleep. You blinked your eyes open, momentarily disoriented by the darkness of the unfamiliar bedroom until a tattooed arm wound around your waist, squeezing tight.
So it wasn’t a dream. You really were here, in Italy, with your best mate who feels the same way you do. You think. He hadn’t exactly said the same three words you said, but you really couldn’t be nitpicky when he did in fact call off his wedding for you. And spent all day kissing you like his life depended on it. And was now holding you, in his bed, so tight against his chest, planting kisses along your neck.
“Sorry for waking you up,” he said, mouth dragging against the skin of your neck, “Got bored.”
He plants his hand on your hip and squeezes, guiding you to turn over and face him. And his shirtless body. He was definitely wearing a shirt when you fell asleep.
He smirks when he notices you ogling him, puffy eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you say, burrowing your head a bit deeper into the pillows as you rest your fingertips against his chest.
His naked chest.
You can’t quite explain the breakdown of the boundaries between you. Why it’s happening so quickly, why it feels so natural. You’ve never touched him like this, never had the freedom to do so, and yet you don’t want to stop or question it as you splay your palm against his pecs, reveling in his sharp inhale. You’re at war with yourself, simultaneously desperate to apply logic to this, to stop and think it through, talk it out while also desperate to just lean in to what feels good and enjoy it, this magic between the two of you that you’ve dreamt of for most of your life.
“You always think this hard when you just wake up?”
You huff a laugh, shaking your head as you rub your thumb back and forth on his chest, his head dipping down to track the movement, “What happened to your shirt?”
“Got hot.” he shrugs, hand tightening on your hip.
“Mmmm. I’ll say.”
He snorts, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him, leaning his head in to rest against your neck, breathing in.
“What time is it?”, you ask.
“Bout half past 8.”
“We are fucked if we try to get any sleep tonight,” you groan.
“I dunno, love,” he says, planting a line of kisses up to your cheek, lips dragging against the skin as he says, “Can think of a couple of things that would tire us out.”
“Oh, great,” you say, breath hitching as he continues to kiss a line across your jaw, your nails scratching on his chest, “I always dreamt that our first time would put me right to sleep.”
He hums against your skin. “So you’ve dreamt about our first time?”
“No comment.” you say, a bit breathlessly as he huffs a laugh, littering soft kisses along your throat before pulling away.
He smiles at you, his eyes puffy from sleep as his hand falls to your cheek, brushing your hair away from your face.
“Realized I never fed you,” he says softly.
“Shit host.”
He laughs, his eyes crinkling as his fingers find their place along the back of your neck, squeezing gently. “One of my favorite places in town is still open this time of year. It’s about a fifteen minute walk if you want to go grab some dinner.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” you say teasingly, breath catching in your throat when he doesn’t take the bait. Instead he just stares at you, lips slightly quirking up as he brushes his thumb along your cheek.
“Yeah,” he says, hand falling to where your hand rests on his chest, turning it over so you're are palm to palm. He squeezes once before bringing your hand to his lips, murmuring against it, “Will you go on a date with me?”
You squeeze his hand, his smile growing when your own grin matches his.
“Never thought I’d ever hear you ask me that,” you say softly, not trusting your voice at a louder volume, feeling overwhelmed by his words and warm gaze.
He squeezes your hand, taking a deep breath,“I never thought I'd ever get the courage to ask.”
“Harry,” your voice comes out as a whisper.
“I know, I know.” he says, leaning in. “C’mere.”
He presses his lips to yours, sucking lightly at your lower lip before pulling back, resting his forehead against yours.
“‘S that a yes?” he asks.
“Yes. Please.” He cuts you off with a kiss before you can even get the words out, pressing his lips to yours over and over, bringing his hand back up to rest at the back of your neck.
“Thank you,” he says, pulling back to whisper against your lips, “for saying yes.”
He’s looking at you so intently, with such reverence in his eyes that you have a feeling he’s not just thanking you for agreeing to dinner but for this trip, for all of it. You squeeze his hand.
“Thank you,” you whisper back, “for asking.”
His eyes study your features for a moment, hand squeezing your hand once more. He’s about to say something, his eyes clouding over before seemingly deciding against it, inhaling sharply as he shakes his head slightly and presses his lips to yours once more. He swipes his tongue along the seam of your lips, fingers tightening on your neck when you open your mouth, moaning when his tongue brushes across yours.
Heat flares through your body, you can’t stop to think about what he was about to say, too busy being distracted by how hard he is kissing you, every swipe of tongue full of intent, his hands pulling you impossibly closer.
Your hand falls back to his chest, sliding down towards his abs. You splay your palm on the butterfly tattoo, nails digging in when he groans. You can barely catch your breath as he overwhelms all of your senses at once. His taste, his touch, his smell. He’s everywhere. You’ve never needed anyone this badly in your life.
His hand slides down your body, pausing at your hip as he squeezes once and guides you towards him, shifting on the bed to lay back down and pull you on top of him. Yes, yes -
The sound of your stomach growling stops you both in your tracks. It’s honestly the loudest and longest growl your stomach has ever made in its life. It’s astonishing. It’s humiliating.
Oh god.
Harry laughs into your mouth before you pull away and instantly hide your head in your hands. You move to roll off of him but his arms come to wrap around you, holding you in place.
“Oh my god,” you groan, feeling him shake with laughter, “I’m sorry.”
“That was loud.”
“Shut up,” you say, giggling as you swat at him. “Haven’t eaten since like lunch yesterday. Was a bit busy.”
You tensed the seconds the words left your mouth, your attempt at a joke falling flat as the reminder of the real world sunk in. Yes, you were here, wrapped up in his arms in Italy. But somewhere else, was Erin. Dealing with the repercussions of a canceled wedding, having to explain to her family what happened, her dream weekend in shambles. All because of you.
“Hey. “ he said softly, snapping you back to reality. You looked down at him, his brow creased in concern.
“Sorry. I -” you exhaled through your lips, “Sorry.”
“Got nothing to be sorry for.”
“I didn’t mean to bring up or like … we haven’t really talked about -”
“I know.” He said, his hand coming up to brush your hair from your face. “I know I said I’d rather wait a bit before talking about it all but if you’d like to talk now, we can.”
You took a second to look at him underneath you. The way he was staring at you so openly, his hand still holding your face, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. This is what you want. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Does it make you an asshole to ignore the reality of the situation for a bit longer? Maybe. But you were hungry and groggy and wouldn’t be able to have a productive conversation right now anyway.
You shook your head slightly, leaning down over him until you were chest to chest, your arms bracketing his head as you take him in for a moment. His swollen lips, darkened eyes, the light flush of his cheeks.
“Not yet. I do want to talk but I’m really hungry,” you say, your hand coming up to play with the strands of hair at the top of his head, “And this really cute boy I’ve liked for ages just asked me on a date. So I’d like to do that first.”
He blinks up at you a few times before a grin splits his face open, your heart fluttering as you take in his expression.
“Let’s go eat, then.”
“Okay.”
You move to roll off of him but his arms tighten around you, still smiling at you when you look up at him in confusion.
“Give me a kiss first.”
You roll your eyes, grinning back at him before pressing your lips to his. It’s a bit awkward, teeth clacking at first as you can’t stop smiling to kiss each other, giggling as he presses his lips to your cheek, jawline, temple.
“If we don’t leave now,” you say as he drags his lips across your skin, “we will never leave this bed.”
“Won’t see me complaining.” he says as as he kisses your cheek, your nose, your temple. “Quite like you like this. On top of me.”
Heat sears through you, unable to formulate a witty response or any response for that matter, suddenly hyper focused on all the areas where your body is in contact with his bare skin. You can’t hold back the sound that escapes you as he kisses the spot right below your ear, sucking lightly on the skin.
“But you’re right.” he says, pulling back. “We should go. Can’t have your stomach screaming at me again.”
“You’re such a little shit!” you squawk. He barely dodges your arm swatting at him, bringing him arms up to protect his face.
“Not my fault your stomach could break a decibel barrier or summat.” he says, giggling.
“Decibel barrier,” you repeat, in a poor imitation of his deep voice, “Big vocabulary. Where’d you learn that one? Scrabble?”
“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” he says as you laugh. He wraps his arms around you, deftly flipping your positions, hovering over you on all fours as you lay flat with your back against the mattress. Your giggles slowly subsiding as you both become aware of the new position you’ve found yourselves in.
Your heart skips a beat, thinking about how often you’ve imagined him like this, hovering over you, his abs flexing, his thighs tense. It’s real, this time. You look up to find him already looking at you, pupils blown as he watches you ogle him. You take a deep breath, trying to slow down your racing heart but finding it impossible when he’s looking at you like that.
His nostrils flare as his searing gaze travels down your body before landing back on your face. Your mouth feels impossibly dry suddenly, licking your lips, stomach twisting when his eyes track the movement. You take a deep breath, reaching your hand up to thread through his hair, landing at the nape of his neck.
“Harry,” you whisper.
He hums in response, his eyes never once leaving your mouth.
“We should probably go.”
“Mhmm.”
“Decibel barriers and all that.”
“Mhmm.”
“Harry!”, you say with a laugh, lightly swatting him on the top of his head. He breaks his focus on your lips to look up at you, a light flush spreading across his cheeks as he smiles sheepishly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he sputters out a laugh, “you’re right. Let’s be responsible. You’re just…”
He cuts himself off with a deep breath, a murmured “bloody distracting” leaving his lips before he smacks a kiss to your cheek and hops off the bed.
“M’lady,” he says, extending a hand to you to help you off the bed as you take it with a snort. He does a little bow, dipping his head to press a kiss to your knuckles before popping up with a smirk at your expression.
“Right,” he says, starting to head around the bed towards the ensuite, “I’ve got a hot date to get ready for. Leave here in like 20ish minutes?”
“Ish.” you emphasize, staring at your mess of a suitcase. This should be interesting.
30(ish) minutes later, you were out in the warm spring night, heading up the road to the restaurant. You felt his eyes on you, turning your head to find him smirking.
“Looks good on you,” he said, pointing to your - well, his - sweater. Right.
In your defense, your suitcase was lacking only because you were in emotional distress while packing it. Trying to figure out what to wear while you watch the love of your life marry someone else is no easy task. You were never planning on staying long, so only packed the essentials. It wasn’t your fault that you apparently only packed pajamas and jeans.
“I can’t believe you still have this.” It had to be at least 5 years old, back in his days of chelsea boots and skinny jeans.
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “you told me you liked how it looked on me. Wasn’t getting rid of it after that.”
You gape at him for a moment, still not used to how he can just casually say these sentences that knock the wind out of you. He smiles softly at you, reaching out for your hand and pulling you closer. He holds on to your hand, lacing your fingers together as you continue walking. The novelty of it, just simply holding his hand, makes your breath catch in your throat as he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand, content to just hold yours.
He points out some shops along the way, streets he got lost down when he went on his first morning run here. As you get further into town, you expect him to pull his hand away. There’s not a ton of people but it’s not deserted. And he is still one of the most famous men in the world, a fact he cannot run away from. Maybe he’s trying to not hurt your feelings, to not mess with this new thing between you. You go to pull your hand away but when he only tightens his hold on your hand, you look up at him in confusion.
“‘S not like that here,” he says, pulling you towards a cluster of trattorias to your right, “They don’t really care about any of it. ‘S why I wanted to stay here. Bring you here. So we could just be two people on a date. Just you and me - ”
“Il mio raggio di sole!!” A voice booms out from inside the restaurant.
“ - And Leonardo.” he says, affectionately rolling his eyes, squeezing your hand once before letting go as he extends his arms out wide towards the older Italian gentleman bustling out of the open doors of the trattoria.
“Amore mio!” Harry yells when he sees him. Leonardo laughs a big belly laugh before grabbing Harry’s face and kissing him on both cheeks. They laugh and hug each other, with a few slaps on the back for good measure.
“Perché non mi hai detto che stavi arrivando?” Leonardo asks Harry when he pulls away, a hand still affectionately resting on his shoulder.
“Volevo sorprenderti!” Harry says with a smile that widens when Leonardo grabs his face and pinches his cheek.
You’ve got no idea what they’re saying but you can’t deny that watching the way Italian words leave Harry’s mouth makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You stand there, watching the two old friends catch up, in awe once again of the effect he has on people wherever he goes.
It’s almost impossible to articulate, the way his warmth and kindness radiates off of him, how he makes the person he’s talking to feel like the only person that matters and they can’t help but fall in love with him. It’s why you felt so foolish about your feelings at times, feeling like just one in a million girls who fell under Harry Styles’ spell. You knew your relationship was different than the one he had with the world but it was hard to feel that way, especially when you saw him in action. But here, and now, the way he keeps sneaking glances over to you as he laughs with Leonardo, maybe you weren’t just one in a million. Maybe you were just the one.
After Harry’s eighth glance over to you, Leonardo looks over at you with a smile.
“Where are my manners? How could you let me be so rude?” he says to Harry before smacking him on the chest.
Harry laughs and introduces you, saying your name with a small smile.
“Buonasera, senora” Leonardo says, extending a hand out to you as he leans in to kiss your cheeks in greeting.
“Buonasera” you say back, in probably the worst Italian anyone has ever heard but in their kindness, neither of them make fun of you for it. “So nice to meet you.”
“How do you know our boy?” he asks affectionately.
“Oh, we go way back. We’ve been friends since we were kids.” you say with a smile.
“Ah, bellissimo.” Leonardo says, “I met this young man a few years back now. With that long hair of his and those tight, tight pants.”
Harry barks out a laugh at that, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “Hey, those pants were cool, then.”
“He stumbled upon our trattoria and charmed the hell out of everyone in the place. He’s made sure to stop by every time he’s in town. We love him here.”
“Yeah, he tends to have that effect on people,” you say.
“One of a kind, this boy.” Leonardo smiles and turns to Harry, “La tua amica è molto carina.”
“Mia ragazza,” he says back softly, “Lei è la mia ragazza”.
He looks over at you, fondness in his eyes, just as Leonardo smacks him upside the back of his head.
“Tua ragazza?!” He says, “Tua ragazza?! What are you talking to me for? Mio dio. Come, come.”
He leads you both through the trattoria, bustling with cozy energy, small tables and intimate lighting. He takes you through the kitchen, grabbing a carafe of wine before leading you to the back patio. Fairy lights string the awning, tables scattered throughout the space. There’s only one other older couple sitting in the far corner, paying you no mind as their heads stay ducked in conversation. Leonardo leads you to a table on the opposite end. You can see the water from here, how the moonlight shines against it. It’s lovely.
“Sit, sit.” Leonardo insists, not even bothering to put out menus as he pours the wine in your glasses. “We’ll take good care of you. Enjoy.”
He winks at you before heading back inside.
“Cheers,” Harry says, lifting his glass to yours as you reciprocate the message, each taking a sip of your wine.
“I didn’t know you spoke Italian that well,” you say.
“‘M not that good,” he says, “Still learning. Wanted to be able to spend more time here and actually speak the language.”
“Well, it sounds good to me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s hot,” you say bluntly as he snorts out a laugh. “What did you say to him earlier? That made him smack you?”
“Ah.” he says, looking down at the table for a moment, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “He told me my friend was very pretty. And I corrected him, and said you were my date.”
“Oh. That’s sweet.” you say with a smile, warmth flooding you. Doesn’t seem worth blushing over, but you’re endeared nonetheless.
“I actually - I used a different word,” he says, sheepishly scratching at the side of his face before looking up at you.
“What do you mean?”
“In Italian, there’s a few words for date. There’s appuntomenta which is like a casual date with someone. If you were going on a first date, that’s what you would say. But I said ragazza, mio ragazza, which is what you say when you’re on a date with your girlfriend.”
“Oh.”
He stares at you for a moment, trying to gauge your reaction, his next words coming out in a rush.
“I know that’s a lot. And we haven’t talked about anything and that tonight was technically my wedding night but I -” he takes a deep breath, reaching for your hand before stopping himself, letting it rest right near yours on the table, looking at you with utter sincerity. “This isn’t casual, to me. You mean…this is…”
“Different,” you say.
“Yeah, but it's more than that,” he says, “This is…’s not something I’m trying out to see if it works. I’m in this, for real. I’ve never - ‘s not felt like this with anyone. ‘S like…
He pauses to collect his thoughts and when he looks back up at you, his eyes are glassy, emotion clear in his voice.
“‘S like I didn’t realize something was missing and then you told me you loved me and my whole world shifted. Like a missing piece of a puzzle finally clicked into place that I hadn’t realized was lost.”
“Harry,” you breathe out.
“I’m just…” he takes a deep breath, shakes his head. “This feels like a date with my girlfriend. Like someone I want to spend a lot of time with. For as long as I possibly can. And that’s why I said it. Is that okay?”
You’re silent for a moment, just staring at him in awe, blinking back the tears that rushed to your eyes.
“Yeah,” you say, with a laugh of disbelief, “that’s okay.”
“Good,” he says, gently taking your hand and lacing your fingers together.
“Good,” you repeat. “And uh, for me too. I mean, this feels that way for me, too. I would say you’re, uh… mio ragazzo?”
“You’re shit at Italian,” he says with a wide grin, sparking a laugh out of you as he chuckles.
“But yeah,” he says, fingers tightening around yours, “That’s what you would say. If you wanted to.”
“I wanted to,” you say, hooking your ankle around his under the table, heart skipping a beat as his smile goes to something softer, more private. Just for you.
“Good.”
“Good.”
You just sit there, grinning at each other like two kids with a school crush, before Leonardo bursts through the doors, gorgeous plates of food in his hand.
“Buckle up,” Harry mutters, “this is just the first course.”
The night flies from there. Leonardo brings out course after course of delicious food, always making sure your wine supply never runs low. Your conversation flows from childhood memories to the books you’re currently reading that you can’t put down. It feels like it always does when the two of you finally get to sit down and catch up for the first time in a while except this time, he squeezes your hand every so often and you brush your leg against his in a way that makes pupils go a bit wider.
At one point, Leonardo and his wife Isabella, a shorter woman with a fierce bob and whip smart wit, join you for a glass or two, reminiscing about Harry’s adventures in Italy when he was a few years younger. Tears fill your eyes as Leonardo recalls the story of how he first met and fell in love with Isabella twenty-three years ago, as she constantly interjects with corrections much to your amusement. The night draws to a close when you start to feel Harry’s eyes on you no matter who is talking in the conversation, something Isabella picks up on immediately, gently swatting Leonardo as he begins another story.
“Amore mio, we should let these two go. It’s their first night here and we’ve been talking their ears off.” she says.
“No!” you and Harry say at the same time, his attention snapping back to them as Isabella smirks at him.
“Really, it’s been so lovely,” you say, as Isabella takes your hand and squeezes it affectionately.
“We’ll see you soon, mio caro. I know it.”
After a bit of a battle over the bill, or lack thereof, that ends with Harry shoving a large wad of euros into Leonardo’s pocket and refusing to take them back and Isabella placing another bottle of wine into your hands for you to take home with vows to teach you some recipes the next time you come, you say your goodbyes with hugs and kisses, feeling like you’ve known this couple for far longer than just the past few hours.
As you’re leaving, Isabella takes Harry’s face in her hands, saying “Lei è speciale. Prenditi cura di lei” to which he nods and replies, “Sempre. Sempre.”
She gives him one final kiss on the cheek and you head back out into the night, the activity of the restaurant having simmered during the late hour. Harry wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Did you like it?”
“Think that was the best meal I’ve ever had. And they’re amazing. To have taken over the family business at such a young age and to have kept it going the way they have…and to still love each other the way they do. It’s incredible.”
“I know. It’s always great getting to see them. They’re really something else.”
“I also always love getting to see the effect you have on people.” you say softly after a few moments of silence. “The way they’re drawn to you like a moth to a flame. You just make everyone feel so singular and special.”
“What - you mean, tonight? No, that was all you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re very charming, you know. And smart. And funny. And a really great person to tell a story to.” he says, slowing your walk to a stop as he turns to face you. Taking a few moments to just look at you, his eyes grazing over your features, a small smile on lips.
“‘S what Isabella said to me as we were leaving. She said you were special and that I should take good care of you.”
Your breath catches in your throat, heartbeat thrumming at having him this close for the first time in hours. “And what did you say back?”
He cups your face in his hands, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Always. Sempre.” he says, leaning in. “Sempre. Amore mio.”
He says the last phrase against your mouth before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. You can’t help the small noise that escapes you as you kiss him back. One hand falls to your hip to pull you closer, the bottle of wine getting smushed between you as he kisses you again.
He pulls away with a groan. “This bottle of wine is killing my vibe.”
He leans his forehead against yours as you huff a laugh, his thumb drawing circles on your hip. It feels quite familiar to about 30 hours ago, when he held you like this in the courtyard and yet it couldn’t be more different. He kisses you once more before pulling away.
“Had a lot of wine. Should probably keep walking around for a bit, if that’s cool with you. ‘S a nice night.”
“Yeah, I’m good with that.” you say as he takes your hand, lacing your fingers together as you resume your walk.
You walk along the cobblestone streets, well-lit despite the dark night sky. You don’t talk much, but you don’t have to, content to be in the silence and have each other close. As you get closer to the water, Harry slows down by the benches overlooking a pier.
“D’you wanna sit for a bit?”, he asks, looking at you while you nod. You sit down next to each other, placing the wine on the ground by your feet, looking out at the night sky that stretches above you, unable to see much else but the moon and stars. You can see the light from some boats and hear some music from the restaurants a bit up the way but other than that, it's quiet.
“Bit of a shit view at night,” you say, as he barks out a loud laugh.
A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you sit there, looking out at the stars. You breathe in the warm spring air, feeling buzzed from the wine, and from him. Just happy. It’s hard to believe that this is real, that you’re sitting where you are.
You can feel him on the verge of saying something. Even out of the corner of your eye, you can spot his long held mannerisms and know better than to push it. He’s incredibly careful with his words, especially when it comes to public speaking, always opting to take the time to think the words through before saying them out loud. With you, he usually opts to just let them imperfectly flow, sure he’ll find his point along the way, no self-consciousness or public perception to hold him back. When you turn to face him, his brow furrowed as he pinches his bottom lip, you can tell that he wants to take his time with this. Wants to get the words exactly right, whatever the words may be.
“Y’ scare the shit out of me. Y’ always have.”
Or not.
“I - what?” you say, sputtering out a laugh. “That’s not true.”
“My palms are sweating,” he says, holding out his palms for you to see before laying them back in his lap. “Feel like I’m 12 years old, asking you to dance all over again.”
“Oh come on, H. You were not nervous for that.”
“Was bricking myself, love.” he says, turning to face you as your brows crease in confusion. You making him nervous? That can’t be true. “Had the biggest crush on you back then.”
“You WHAT?”
“Come on, you had to have known that.” he says, as you start to vehemently shake your head. “I wasn’t subtle at all.”
“I had no idea.”
“Asked you to dance, didn’t I?”
Your heart lurches as he repeats the words he said to you all those years ago, verbatim. The memory already taking on a different life with this new piece of information. The way he had clutched your wrist, how he wouldn’t look you in the eye, how sweaty his palms had been. Oh. These little moments in your life turning out to mean as much to him as they do to you makes your head spin.
“I made us all play spin the bottle at Katie’s 13th birthday trying to get you to kiss me.” he says, unable to stop the confessions once he’s started.
“What?” you say with a disbelieving laugh, “So you’re the reason my first kiss was with Conor Williams?”
“Trust me, I’m just as upset about it as you are.” he says as you laugh. “I couldn’t figure out the mechanics of how to make sure the bottle landed on you in time and then that bastard took the first turn.”
“It really wasn’t anything special,” you say with a laugh.
“Yeah, well, it was supposed to be.” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Can’t believe you didn’t know. Gem used to tease me mercilessly about it - the way I would always spend like 20 minutes making sure my curls fell the right way before going over to yours for Sunday roast.”
You giggle, helplessly endeared at the thought of little 13 year old Harry, in his big chinos and polo shirts, frantically fixing his curls in the mirror, just for them to fall the way they always did.
“Clearly it didn’t work,” he says, smiling over at you.
“Maybe not at the time,” you say, “But I promise those curls have really done a number on me over the years.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” you say emphatically as he raises his eyebrows, huffing out a laugh. “You don’t even know.”
“I’d like to,” he says, his voice rumbling out like gravel. The expression on his face makes your breath catch in your throat, still not used to the way he can so easily go from a regular conversation to making you feel like you’re on fire.
“Bloody narcissist,” you say, the waver in your voice being a dead giveaway as to how affected you are and it makes him smirk, his eyes twinkling.
“Oh, but you love it,” he teases.
“Yeah,” you say with a deep breath, “turns out I do.”
His face floods with emotion then, his eyes darting all over your face before he takes a deep breath, breaking eye contact to look down at his hands with a furrow in his brow.
“Maybe if I had just told you back then…”
“H.” you say gently, “We were kids. I’m not sure a relationship between two 13 year olds would have stood the test of time.”
“Yeah, I just -” he drags a hand down his face. “That 13 year old kid knew exactly what he wanted when it came to you. And for me - I…My entire world flipped upside down when I was 16. Everything changed, all at once, forever. The only things that were constant in my life were Mum, Gemma… and you.”
You inhale sharply at that, a sound louder than you meant it to be, as it makes his head snap up and reach for your hand, holding it between both of his own as he turns to face you.
“And I couldn’t mess with that. To be honest, I don’t know that I even wanted to, just assumed that how I felt about you was how someone feels about their closest friend. You were my best mate and I needed that, as much as a selfish prick as that makes me.”
“That makes sense to me,” you say, “H, I was never expecting you to -”
“But I -” he says, cutting you off, “I wish I had stopped to think about why it was different with you. Like why I wanted to deck that bloke you were seeing a few years back because he kept ordering you bloody pimms cups which you hate. Or why I couldn’t stop staring at you at mum’s birthday this past year because I…I thought you looked so beautiful.”
“You…what?” You must’ve heard him incorrectly, the sound of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.
“Couldn’t get you off my mind for weeks, love.” he says. “But I was already engaged and –”
He makes a miserable noise at that, leaning his elbows on his thighs, his hands coming up to cover his face.
“I…I thought it was just me freaking out about getting married. Wasn’t lying when I said I was shit at relationships, I tend to flake out the moment ‘m supposed to commit. But… something felt off the second I proposed, if I’m honest. And I could never figure out why that was, we had a good relationship and it felt like the right thing to do…so I just ignored it. Thought it was just fear of being tied down.”
“When I called you on my birthday, I almost told you about it. About how I didn’t think I should go through with it. But I…”, he shakes his head, taking a deep breath, his voice thick with emotion, “I couldn’t figure out how to articulate it. And I got scared. Of what you might say. ‘Nd what it might mean. ‘Ve always done what people want me to do so going against that…I couldn’t – I was all over the place. Couldn’t figure out what I wanted or what I should do –”
He shakes his head, taking a moment to collect himself before looking over at you, tears in his eyes. He reaches out his hand to take yours, lacing your fingers together, looking you right in the eyes.
“But then… there you were. Standing in that courtyard, looking unbelievable. And telling me you loved me. And suddenly everything made sense. All the confusion I felt over the past year. All the questions I’ve had about us over the years. I …it all felt wrong because it wasn’t with you. And it’s always been you.”
You don’t think you’ve breathed in the last minute, unable to do anything but hold his hand tight, tears already falling down your cheeks as he reaches up to brush one away.
“Think I started loving you when I was 13 and a part of me never stopped. ‘Nd I’m so sorry it took me this long to realize it. But nothing in my life has ever made more sense to me than being here with you, right now. I – come closer to me,” he says, pulling at your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist, not letting go until you’re situated in his lap.
He looks up at you, a few tears in his eyes that you bring your hand up to wipe away as he smiles at you. Looking at you with adoration in his eyes. Bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks, he takes a deep breath before saying:
“I love you.”
You take a moment to take in his features, the love in his eyes, the smile so wide the dimple is showing, knowing your matching grin looks the same. He’s here. He’s yours.
You can’t explain the sound you make as you crash your lips to his, his hand coming up to the back of your neck, the other holding you at the hip to keep you in place. It’s a bit of a mess, with the tears from both of your cheeks, the way you can’t stop smiling to get a proper kiss in, the way he keeps mumbling “’m sorry, i love you” between kisses but… it’s perfect.
You pull back slightly, wary of moving too far away, wanting to keep as much of yourself touching him as possible, but wanting to get a good look at his face.
“Thank you for telling me all of that.”
“Was a lot, wasn’t it?” he says with a sheepish laugh.
“The most you’ve ever talked I think.” you say with a giggle as he pinches your hip.
“I really am sorry, you know” he says sincerely. “I wish I had been less of a coward —”
“Think you’re being too hard on yourself. There was a lot going on. I never said anything to you either. I was also trying to do the right thing, what was expected. And I was purposefully trying to detach myself to make things easier —”
“Yeah, don’t do that again.”, he says, arms tightening around you, pulling you in impossibly closer.
“I won’t,” you say with a giggle.
“Good.”
You take a moment to stare at him. At your boy. The only boy you’ve ever loved. “Harry?”
He hums in response, a soft smile on his lips.
“I love you, too.”
His eyes flutter shut at that, taking a deep breath as his smile grows wider, opening his eyes back up to look right at you.
“Can you say it again, please?”
“I love you, I love you, I love you I l–”
He cuts you off with a sweet kiss, holding you like you’re the most precious thing, thumb drawing circles on your hip. A sigh falls from your mouth as he leans in to kiss you once more, his lips pressing to yours over and over.
He slowly pulls away, burying his head into your neck, inhaling deeply as he tightens his arms around you. The two of you sit there, holding each other close, breathing each other in. Both reveling in the ability to finally have the person you love, the person you’ve always loved, in your arms.
Slowly, you start to feel his mouth on your neck, lips dragging against the skin, tongue slipping out between kisses to taste the skin in a way that has your toes curling. He kisses a slow line up your neck, pausing at that one spot behind your ear. He sucks a mark into the skin, making himself known, the sensation has you letting out a small moan.
His hands tighten on your hips at the sound, a soft groan leaving his mouth as he gently nips at your skin before he pulls back. His eyes graze all of your face before landing on your lips. The shift in energy is palpable, simmering between you two. His hand comes up to the back of your neck, tightening slightly when you lick your lips.
“Fuck.”
He dives back in, the kiss quickly descending into pure heat as his tongue swipes against your lips, groaning deeply in his chest when you lick into his mouth, your hand sliding up into his hair. His tongue passes over yours, not giving you a second to breathe as he bites down at your bottom lip before kissing you deeply once more.
When you pull away to catch your breath, he starts to kiss his way along your jaw, sucking at the skin when he gets to your neck.
“H?” You’re panting, desperately trying to hold it together but every second with his lips on your skin is one second closer to you just taking him right here on this bench.
He lets out a guttural groan, hand tightening on your hip, his hips rolling up into yours in a way that makes you feel all of him. Shit, had you said that last bit out loud?
“Harry,” you breathe out.
“Yeah, baby?” he says, lips moving against your skin. And well, fuck. He’s never called you that before, the pet name sending a jolt straight to your core as you tighten your fingers in his hair. You can feel him smiling against your neck, clearly loving the effect he’s having on you.
“Take me home.”
He groans quietly against your throat, pulling his head back to look at you as his arms tighten around your waist, his eyes dark, pupils blown.
“Yeah,” he says, leaning in to kiss you firmly. “Yes, please. Yeah. Let’s - let’s go.”
He kisses you once more before leaning back, offering a hand up to help you off of his lap and standing once you’re all set. Smirking as he not so subtly adjusts himself. He bends down to pick up the bottle of wine and then takes your hand, pulling you close and wrapping his arm around your waist.
“Come on, baby.” he says. “Let’s go home.”
– - - -
The tension from earlier seems to have faded slightly on the walk back, as the two of you toe off your sneakers, swollen lips offering shy smiles, your heart thundering with nerves. You wanted him, you’ve always wanted him, there was no doubt about that. You’ve fantasized about it, dreamt about it and now that it was actually about to happen, you weren’t sure what to do. It would be one thing if he had grown up just looking like all the other guys your age, but no, he had to go and turn himself into walking sex on legs. You were losing it.
You look up to find him smiling softly at you, holding up the bottle of wine in his hand.
“Could pour us a glass, if you’d like.”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” you say with a nod, watching as he walks over to the kitchen. You follow slowly behind, trying to make yourself snap out of it. You loved him and he just told you he loved you. He loved you. You wanted him and it seems like he wanted you just as badly, if his groans were any indication. You’ve spent so much of your life being afraid of what could happen between you two, what could go wrong and now, there was nothing to be afraid of. Not here. Not right now.
As you watched him reach up for two glasses, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin, his abs and laurel tattoos peeking out, you decided you didn’t want wine after all. You were thirsty for something else entirely. You cringe at yourself for that last one. No more thinking.
“Harry? I actually - I changed my mind.” you say, taking a few steps over to get closer to him. “I don’t want wine anymore.”
“Yeah?”, he says, turning around to lean against the counter and crossing his arms, his biceps suddenly bulging in a way you can’t take your eyes off of. He watches as your eyes drag down his body before locking eyes with him as he licks his lips. “What do you want?”
“You. I want you. It’s all I –” The words are barely out of your mouth when he hooks his fingers through the belt loop of your jeans, pulling you right into him as he captures your lips with his. The sweetness from earlier long forgotten as he hotly licks into your mouth, his tongue sweeping over yours in a way that makes your head spin. His hands drift down to your ass, squeezing once as he moans into your mouth, pulling you even closer to him.
He spins you suddenly, pinning you against the countertop and grinding his hips against yours as he drags his lips down your neck. You’re panting, dragging your hands down his biceps, the muscles flexing as he plants his hands on the countertop, caging you in. His lips drag along your cheekbone before they find their way to yours once again. He kisses you hard as you trail your hands up his arms and down his back, his unbelievable back muscles that you can’t help but knead your hands into as you roll your hips up into his. He groans in appreciation, pulling away to press kisses along your jaw, one of his hands sliding up your sweater, just resting possessively against your ribs, his thumb grazing the edge of your bra. The feeling of his hands on your skin making your core throb as he sucks at the skin of your neck, determined to leave a mark.
“Harry,” you moan out his name in a way that has him sucking harder, his hand gripping you tighter. “We should - bedroom.”
He pulls back to look at you, panting to catch his breath. His lips are swollen, eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them as he drags his thumb across your bottom lip, almost growling when your tongue swipes out to taste it.
“C’mere.” He takes a step back and pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours once again, looping his arms around your hips. “Jump.”
You don’t think about it, just do, as you jump up into his arms, looping your legs around his waist.
“This okay?”
“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, bending your head down to mouth at the skin of his neck. “Drop me and I’ll kill you.”
“Not gonna do that,” he says, making his way out of the kitchen before letting go for a millisecond, you drop down a centimeter as you squeal before his arms catch you once more, holding you tight.
“Oh, you absolute arsehole!”
You can feel his giggles as much as you can hear them which sets you off to the point where he has to stop walking, arms holding you tight as you both dissolve into laughter. You pull your head back to look at him, finding him smiling up at you.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Is your back okay?”
He rolls his eyes, tightening his arms around you.
“M’back’s fine.” he says, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours before claiming your lips in a sweet kiss. He leans back to smile up at you, his dimple making an appearance.
You wind your hand up into the hairs at the nape of his neck, taking a moment to survey him, your eyes immediately drawn to his arms, flexed with effort but showing no signs of strain or struggle. Fuck, he’s so strong.
“Your arms are driving me insane,” you whisper, mostly to yourself but he hears you, huffing out a laugh as he leans in to plant a line of kisses down your neck.
“Yeah? You like them?” he asks, flexing them intentionally, grinning when you squeeze them.
“Harry.” you all but whine. “Take me to bed.”
He moans at that, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you deeply before continuing to walk down the hallway, holding you tight against him. You drag your lips along the skin of his neck, sucking lightly as he kicks the bedroom door open, sliding his hands to your thighs to help you ease to the ground, every inch of your body sliding against his as you do.
You stand there, looking at each other, before he swallows heavily, bringing his slightly shaking hands up to cup your face, leaning in to kiss you once more. He presses his lips to yours once, twice before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours.
“You nervous?” he whispers against your lips.
You nod. “A bit. Are you?”
“A bit. ‘S a big deal. You’re a big deal.” His thumb rubs against your cheekbone as he pulls back to look you right in the eyes. “But I love you and you love me. And I want you. And you want me.”
“I do,” you say, your hands coming to rest at his hips. “I really do. Wanna show you how much.”
“I’m yours, darling.”
You lean up to capture his lips with yours, swiping your tongue over his as you slide your hands under his shirt, pushing the fabric up before he breaks away from your mouth to pull the shirt over his head.
And there he is. Shirtless in a bedroom with you. You’ve been in this position before, but never like this. Never with his hooded eyes burning into your face as you take him all in. He’s yours to love. To touch. To fuck.
You slide your hand down his chest, his head ducked to follow the movement, before you’re undoing the button on his trousers, sliding your hand inside to cup at his length, already half hard, through his briefs. His head tilts back on his neck, his breath coming in short bursts as he drags his hand down your back to grab a firm handful of your arse.
You spin yourselves around, walking him backward before pushing him down lightly on the foot of the bed. His hands propped up to hold himself up, his legs spread wide as he watches you walk over to him, reaching out to grab your wrist and pulling you onto his lap.
“Y’ wearing too many clothes.” he says, his hands already traveling up your sweater.
“I wasn’t done.” you huff out, which turns more into a pant as he leans in to kiss you on the neck.
“Just need you more naked, love. Won’t interrupt again, I just - ” he cuts himself off, grabbing the hem of your sweater and pulling it over your head, his eyes immediately roaming over your skin.
And this is…being naked, even half naked, in front of someone for the first time is always nerve-wracking, regardless of how you feel about your appearance (and you were hot and you knew it, okay?!) but this is a whole other level. You’re a bit frozen in place, desperate to know if he likes what he sees.
He must feel you stiffen, because his hands immediately come to rest at your hips.
“You okay?” he asks, his eyes never once straying from yours.
“Yeah,” you say, huffing out a nervous laugh. “Just got nervous about you seeing me naked. Wondering if you liked it”
“Y- what?! Y’can’t be serious.” he all but squawks.
“I didn’t say it was rational!” you say with a giggle. “Just - it’s a big deal.”
“For me, too. ‘S an honor. A privilege. Thanking m’lucky stars –
“Oh my god.” you say, rolling your eyes.
“‘M serious. Y’ dead sexy.” he says, leaning in to plant a scintillating kiss to your neck before pulling back, suddenly serious. “Did you want to stop?”
“No, no, no. Not at all,” you say, threading your hand through his hair. “I want this. Want you. Thought about it so many times.”
He moans at that, sucking a kiss behind your ear before pulling back to whisper, “Gonna tell me what you thought about?”
“Wanna show you.” you say as he groans, kissing your neck once more before pulling away.
“‘M not done yet” he says, eyes locking with yours before sweeping down your body again. “Fuck. So beautiful.”
He plants a line of kisses down your neck, stopping to suck a mark on your collarbone as reaches around to unclasp your bra, helping it slide off your shoulders. He stares for a moment before diving in, kisses roaming from your sternum down to your breasts, wrapping his lips around one nipple while his hand massages the other. You’re overwhelmed, moaning at the sensation. You could stay here forever, slowly becoming putty in his hands as he moves his mouth to your other breast. But that’s not what you want.
You lean back, stopping his head with a gentle hand in his hair when he tries to follow you. His blown pupils staring right back at you.
You slip off his thigh and kneel in between his legs, grabbing his trousers and briefs by the waistband and pulling them down as he lifts his hips off the bed to help, his chest already heaving at the sight of you on your knees in front of him. Once you get them off his legs, you can’t help but gape at him. Sitting in front of you, in all his naked glory. He’s fully hard now, his glorious cock standing proud, already rosy red at the tip. He’s big. You want him inside you. But you’ve got something else to do first.
You lean in, planting kisses along his inner thigh, occasionally sucking the skin into your mouth to leave a mark while your hand sweeps up his other leg, kneading the muscle every so often. He groans, threading his hand through your hair, a mumbled “fuck me” leaving his lips as you make your way up his legs. You kiss a line along his hip, leaning in to lick at the laurel tattoos before looking up at him as he stares right back with dark eyes and a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Y’ don’t have to -”
“I want to,” you say, wrapping a loose fist around his cock as you kiss along the prominent vein, reveling in the way his eyes roll back, eyes fluttering closed, a full body shudder going through him. “This okay?”
“Yes - fuck. Please.” he tightens his hand in your hair as you pump his cock once before darting your tongue out and sucking at the tip.
He immediately moans, deep and guttural, trying in vain to keep his hips still as work him into your throat. You close your eyes, reveling in the feel of him as you drag your tongue along the vein, tightening your mouth at the tip as his breathing becomes heavier. You bob your head, working your mouth open to meet your fist at the base.
“Jesus, ‘s good. ‘S so good - baby,” he groans, chest heaving as your dewy eyes open to meet his, moaning the second you make eye contact. You can feel arousal pooling at the center of your thighs, shifting on your heels to find some relief. You leave one hand on his cock, the other sliding up to rest on his butterfly tattoo, feeling it jump under your hand as you give a particularly hard suck.
You pull off with an undignified slurp, keeping your hand pumping on him as you kiss down his length. Between his sounds, his taste, the feel of his fingers against your scalp, you’re wetter than you’ve ever been. You need him.
“Doing so good for me, you look unbelievable - ” he says, groaning as you take him down once more. “Oh fuck -”
You only manage a few more bobs of your head before he’s pulling you off of him, closing his eyes to collect himself.
“Gotta - gotta stop.” he says as you unwrap your fist, dragging your hands along his thighs. “Gonna make me come - and I -”
He shakes his head, chest still heaving as he reaches for your hands, pulling you up to stand in between his thighs. He immediately presses his mouth to your belly, dragging slow, wet kisses down until he reaches the waistband of your trousers, bringing his hands up to meet his mouth.
“Can I?” You’re nodding before he can even get the words out, desperate to have his hands on you.
He unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down slowly. Once they’re at your ankles, you hastily and ungracefully kick them off. He huffs out a laugh before taking you all in, swallowing heavily before dragging his eyes to your face, resting his chin against your stomach as he looks up at you, utterly rapt. His hands knead your thighs, edging closer to where you need him most before he pulls them away again.
“Want you on my bed,” he says and you all but crawl over him to get there, snorting out a laugh when he smacks you on the bum before you settle down against the pillows.
“Was right there,” he says, giggling as he turns around to face you. “Had to do someth…”
The words die in his throat when he sees you, sitting back against his heels for a moment as his eyes roam all over you, his searing gaze making you throb. He crawls up to lay beside you, bringing two fingers under your chin to tilt your head towards him and capturing your lips with his, groaning when he can taste himself on your tongue.
“Need to touch you,” he whispers against your lips. “Can I?”
“Please.” you whisper back. He props himself up on his elbow, bringing his other hand to rest on your sternum. Your breath catches when he leans in to kiss your neck, dragging his fingertips from your collarbone down to the waistband of your underwear, pausing a moment before pushing his hand inside, his fingers teasing at your folds, at where you’re practically dripping for him.
He bites down on your neck, groaning when he feels your wetness. “‘S this all for me? Y’ got this wet from sucking my cock?”
“Shit,” you moan out, eyes rolling back as his fingers start to rub circles on your clit. Each touch sends sparks shooting down your spine.
“Y’ so wet,” he moans into your ear, kissing a line across your jaw before licking into your mouth. You thread your hand into his hair as you kiss back, or attempt to, moaning deeply when you feel his hard cock against your hip. “‘S this really all for me?”
You pull back, looking into his hooded eyes as you whisper “Sempre.”
A moan punches out of him as he closes his eyes, stilling his hand for a moment. “Don’t - don’t do that,” he says, shakily. “Gonna make me bust a nut.”
“Thought my Italian was shit.” you say, laughing, still determined to tease him despite feeling like you’re about to explode, wiggling your hips to get his fingers where you want them.
“Turns out it hits very differently when you’re naked in m’ bed….” he says, kissing you deeply once more, before slipping a finger inside you, groaning as he pulls away. “And you’re this tight -”
“H -” you gasp out, feeling like every inch of you is on fire, the coil in your stomach already tightening with each delicious curl of his finger. Fuck. You never imagined he’d feel this good.
“Y’ feel so good, baby.” he says, lips dragging against your skin. “Want you to come like this. Can y’ do that for me?”
“Yeah. Want another - .” He slides another finger inside of you, effectively cutting you off. “Yes.”
“That’s better, yeah? That’s what my girl needed.” he says, resting his forehead against your temple. You tighten your hand in his hair, unable to focus on anything but the feel of his breath against your skin, the feeling of his fingers fucking you. The coil tightening as you start to pant. Fuck.
“Harry -” you moan, opening your eyes to look at him, his pupils blown out wide, nostrils flared as his eyes roam across your face before locking with yours. He kisses you, tongue gliding over yours as he brings his thumb to rub against your clit. Heat sears through you, thighs tightening as you feel yourself hurtling closer to the edge. “‘I’m close - oh!”
“Y’ look so good. Want you to come.” he mumbles against your skin. All it takes is a few more pumps of his fingers, his thumb swiping in one more delicious circle, his lips brushing against yours and then you’re coming. Hard.
Wave after wave of pleasure rolls through you, as a symphony of indecipherable moans leave your mouth, your stomach pulled tight, your core throbbing. It’s never felt like this before. His fingers fucking you through the last wave before the overstimulation has you groaning. He gently pulls his fingers out and sucks them into his mouth while locking eyes with you. His eyes rolling back at your taste.
“Taste so good,” his voice grumbles out, deeper than ever before. “Could just lay here and eat y’ for hours, if y’ wanted. Make you come over and over -”
You pull his head to your mouth, kissing him while still trying to catch your breath. You bite his bottom lip as he pulls away to smatter kisses across your face, mumbling “fuck, baby. Looked so good. Did so good for me” between kisses. He pulls back to stare at your face, small smile on his lips as he brushes a strand of hair away from your sweaty brow.
“Jesus Christ.” you say as he smacks a kiss to your cheek.
“Y’ can just call me Harry, love.” he says, giggling when you smack him on the head.
“And here I was about to compliment you -” you say with a groan, making like you’re going to get up before his arm lays across your waist, holding you in place.
“No no no, none of that. Let me hear it.” he says as you shake your head. “Was it good for you?”
“No comment - ”
“No come on – tell me.”
“It was alright.”
“Alright?! Had you moaning like a banshee and you –”
“A banshee?! Oh my god –”
“A hot banshee.”
“Shut up.” you say with a laugh as he buries his head against your neck, laughing with you. Once you settle down, you feel him start to plant kisses along your neck, his hard cock more prominent than ever against your hip.
“I’ve never come that hard.” “Yeah?” “You made me feel so good.”
You use your grip in his hair to pull his head towards yours, licking at the seam of his lips until he opens his mouth, moaning into yours as you kiss him deeply. You swipe your tongue over his over and over, desperate to get lost in the sensation, to make him feel as good as you did. You needed him.
“Harry,” you mumble against your lips before he dives in once again, kissing you so deeply you have to pull away to catch your breath, looking him in the eyes as you rub your thumb against his bottom lip. “Fuck me.”
His eyes flutter shut as he groans, nipping at your thumb before kissing you firmly once more, your lips dragging down his neck when he pulls away.
“Have to - Baby. Fuck. Have to get stuff. Washroom.” he mumbles incoherently as you suck a mark into his skin, biting down to leave a bruise. Marking your territory. He dives in to kiss you deeply once more before you pull away again.
“Your cock is about to burn a hole through my leg,” you say as he sputters out a laugh.
“‘S your fault. You’ve got no idea how good you look when you come” he mumbles against your lips, licking into your mouth.
“Harry.” you whine.
“‘M going, ‘m going.” He kisses your cheek as he drags his hand down your body, snapping the waistband of your underwear. “Get these off.”
“You’re the one who left them on!” you complain to no avail, as he hops off the bed, doing an awkward shuffle run into the washroom. You pull your soaked underwear off and throw it to the floor, hearing him fumble around drawers. He’s about to fuck you. A shudder runs through you, and you bring your hand down to your clit, still swollen as you brush your fingers against the bud, letting out a loud moan of his name.
“Jesus - fuck.”
Ah, so he heard you.
You hear a large clattering noise, a few more mumbled curses before you look over to find him standing in the doorway, condoms in hand, dark eyes locked on you.
“What’re y’ doing?”
“Got impatient.”
“Fuck, baby.” He brings his hand down to his hard cock, pumping it a few times as his eyes travel up and down your body. “Y’ look so good.”
“Need you,” you moan and he all but scrambles up the foot of the bed, dropping the condoms unceremoniously as he crawls to rest in between your bent legs. You lift your fingers off your clit, moaning when he ducks down to suck them into his mouth. He kisses your fingertips before bending down to kiss along your inner thigh.
He kisses a line across your hip before licking a stripe up your core. A guttural moan bursts from your chest as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He kisses a line up your stomach, crawling up until he’s hovering over you on all fours. His cock right where you need him the most, grazing your core when he bends down to kiss you, the two of you moaning into each other’s mouths.
He pulls away to look at you, dark eyes brimming with lust and determination.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Really want to fuck you.”
“Really want you to.”
He groans, kissing you deeply once more before leaning back on his heels and ripping the condom package open with his teeth. You’re unable to do anything but watch as he rolls the condom over his cock, his biceps flexing as he pumps himself once.
“Want y’ like this, if that’s okay.” he says, coming to hover over you once more. “Want to see you.”
“Yes, please.”
He lines himself up with your center, “deep breath for me,” and pushes in, smattering kisses across your face.
“Oh fuck.”
“Is it - fuck - okay? Y’good?”
“You’re big.” you moan out, clenching around him as you try to adjust to his size. “Just - give me a minute.”
“Take your time,” he says as he kisses at the hinge of your jaw bone. He drags his mouth across your forehead, temple, cheekbone as you take another deep breath, feeling yourself relax around him and oh shit - yes.
“You can move.” “Y’sure?”
“Yes, please - fuck.” The expletive is dragged out of you as he pulls his hips back before thrusting forward slowly. It feels like every nerve ending is on fire, like you’re ignited from within. He’s barely begun and you already can’t catch your breath.
“Fuck. Y’ feel so good.” he mumbles against your skin, lowering his arms so every inch of his skin is touching yours, you both groan at the sensation as he drags his hips back once again.
“You can - faster.” you gasp out, dragging your hands down his back grabbing a handful of his ass. “Please. Wanna feel it.”
He growls at that, kissing you deeply as he starts to fuck you. Really fuck you. Smooth, deep thrusts filling you every time. And then - oh fuck. You let out a loud moan, your hands scrambling for hold on his sweaty back.
“That’s it, yeah? Right there?” he asks as you feverishly nod your head. “Fuck, baby - y’feel -”
He lets out a guttural groan, reaching down to pull your thighs further up against his hips, moaning at the new angle. You bury your hand into his hair again, pulling on a particularly deep thrust as he moans against your neck in appreciation. You start to move your hips up against his and it takes a minute but eventually you hit a rhythm that is indescribable. It’s hard to tell where he ends and you begin. The two of you moving in tandem, working hard to make the other feel as good as possible.
He’s vocal, more so than you ever expected him to be. When he’s not mumbling praises into your hair, he’s moaning or grunting, never wavering in his determination to give it all to you. His lips drag all over your skin as he plants a kiss right over your beating heart, then licking a stripe up your neck before sucking a mark behind your ear.
“Wanted you so bad. Never imagined - fuck,” he grunts out, his abs sliding against your stomach, tattoos glistening in exertion. “Y’ feel incredible.”
He was all consuming. Determined to stay as close to you as possible, occasionally propping himself on one elbow to drag his hand down your body, squeezing at your breasts, biting your lips. You couldn’t catch your breath, feeling like every inch of you was on fire. Every drag of his hips makes your toes curl, core clenching as you melt into the mattress.
You look up at the furrow in his brow, his hooded eyes staring back at you, pure concentration in hitting you just right. Fuck. You felt yourself careening towards your high once more, clenching around him as he groaned. You threaded your hand into his hair, pulling his mouth towards you. You kissed him deeply, clenching when he thrust just right, pulling away with a gasp.
“Fuck, H. I -”
“Y’close?” he asked, moaning when you nod. “Gonna come on my cock?”
“Yeah. Fuck -” you moan, sliding your hand between your bodies to rub at your clit. Sparks fly the second your fingers make contact, he mouths along your jaw as you circle your clit. He locks eyes with you as he drags his hips out before thrusting hard. It immediately sends you over the edge, your mouth open in a silent scream as your body shakes through it. You can feel it all the way down to your toes, the waves of pleasure consuming you once again. You can’t stop clenching around him as he bites into your skin.
“Fuck, baby. Just like that. Oh - shit. Gonna make me -” he moans, thrusting in short bursts, his face screwed up in determination, his muscles tense. A guttural moan punches out of him as he comes, hard. You can feel him empty into the condom as he ducks down to kiss you, rough and deep, moaning as his whole body shudders. It’s all you can do to hold tight to his hair, kissing him back as best you can. His kisses slow, turning softer before he buries his head into your neck as you both shake with aftershocks.
It’s silent for a few moments. Just the sounds of you both trying to catch your breath. You drag your hand up and down his back as he breathes you in, not daring to move quite yet. You let your legs slide down to the mattress as he pulls his head back to look at you, a relaxed, blissful expression on his face. And to your surprise, tears in his eyes.
He brings his hand up to cup your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheekbone before leaning in to kiss you sweetly, sniffling once as he pulls away.
“Sorry I -” he shakes his head, shutting his eyes for a moment before opening them to stare right at you, his eyes soft with emotion. “That was incredible. I -”
He dives in to kiss you once more, moaning softly when you open your mouth to him, dragging your tongue against his before closing the kiss. He leans his forehead against yours.
“I never imagined it’d be that good. That it could feel like this. That we would…It’s never - I’ve never felt like this before. With anyone. ”
Tears spring to your eyes as you take in his earnest expression, the feeling on his body of yours, his hands on your skin.
“I know. Me too. That was…” You look up at him, the two of you staring in each other’s eyes, emotions you’re unable to articulate flowing through you. In awe that you’re both equally affected. You reach up, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear, keeping your fingertips resting lightly on his face.
“You took such good care of me,” you whisper.
He blinks rapidly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, a whispered “Baby.” leaving his lips as he leans down to kiss you softly. You both just lay there, sweet kisses expressing the love words cannot.
You pull away with a soft sigh, looking up at him in a daze, taking a deep breath as you run your hand through his sweaty hair.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Chills erupt across your body as you lean up to capture his lips once more.
“Should probably pull out now.” he whispers against your lips as you snort.
“Romantic.”
He smacks a kiss against your temple as he leans back, pulling out as you both grimace. He leans back against his heels as he pulls the condom off, tying it off and throwing it into the trash next to the bed before collapsing on top of your body.
“Oof.” you groan as he laughs, planting slow kisses along your neck, before wrapping his arms around you and rolling onto his back, holding you close as you lay on top of him.
You look down at him, the post sex glow working wonders on him as he smiles sleepily at you.
“Tired you out, did I?” You ask with a smile that widens when he huffs out a laugh.
“You got me good, darling.” he whispers, pulling you closer and holding you against him as he brushes kisses along your forehead.
“Should probably pee,” you mumble.
“Sexy.”
You snort as you pull away from him, proving more to be more difficult than it should as he refuses to let you get too far. He eventually drops his hands as you roll off the bed and shuffle to the washroom.
You hurry over to the toilet to pee, flushing and standing up to wash your hands, almost gasping at your reflection in the mirror. You look well and truly fucked. Your hair is a bit of a rat’s nest, you’ve got bruises blooming all over your neck and chest but you’ve also got a glow that you’ve never seen before. You like this look on you.
You dry your hands, shuffling back into the bedroom as you hear soft snores. You look up to find him spread on the bed, still completely naked, and asleep.
You gently shake him awake as he looks over at you with bleary eyes.
“Might help to get under the covers.”
“Shit. Sorry didn’t mean to fall asleep -” he cuts himself off with a yawn. “Just did a lot of hard work, you know.”
“Trust me, I know. Gonna be feeling you for days.” He inhales sharply at that, eyes darkening as you look over at him.
“Yeah?” he says smugly, already sliding his way closer to you, his hand reaching out to grab you as you skeptically lift an eyebrow.
“You were snoring a minute ago, H.” you say, tugging at the covers to get him off of the bed.
He rolls his eyes at you, standing up and stretching and you get so distracted by the expanse of skin that you freeze for a moment.
“The covers, love?”
You snap back to attention to find him looking at you with a smug gleam in his eye. You pull the covers back and slide into bed, he immediately follows suit.
“Don’t want to fall asleep on you after I rocked your world.” He says with a yawn. “Could stay up and talk, if you wanted.”
“You just yawned like 8 times in the last 30 seconds.”
“That is an exaggeration,” he says a yawn breaking through his speech as he quickly clamps his mouth shut in an attempt to quell it. You look at him with a raised eyebrow as he smiles back meekly.
You lean in to give him a kiss, murmuring “Let’s go to sleep.”
“If you insist,” he says, as if he’s not the one already drifting off. You lean over to flip the lamp off and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you down so your head lays across his chest, as you wrap your arm around his waist, tangling your legs with his.
“Love you.” he mumbles sleepily, his breaths already coming in deeper, slower.
“Love you too,” you say, squeezing at his waist as you close your eyes, finding yourself drifting off to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Feeling more loved than you ever have in your life. Just you and your boy, in your own little bubble. You fall into a deep sleep, blissfully ignorant of just how soon this little love bubble you’ve found yourselves in would pop. Big time.
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a/n: wowweee. can we believe it?! thanks for sticking with me and my long ass updates if you have. would love to know your thoughts! pls pls pls.fingers crossed its not the worst smut you've ever read xo
taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles
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aroanthy · 1 month
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trying to write something about how much i hate the ‘misandry in utena/the utena fandom’ crowd but it feels kind of redundant to me. i think i just don’t consider people who use the word ‘misandry’ serious people. i do however feel an obligation to occasionally make my position clear on that front, because im aware i tougapost and some people love to bring that guy up as the misandry in the utena fandom poster boy. which is so fucking stupid because touga is not victimised by ‘misandry’, touga is victimised by homophobic violence which is wrapped up in misogynistic violence, both of which are the cogs in the machine we call patriarchy. touga is not affected by misogyny in the same way that anthy is, that’s one of the key takeaways you can get from their being foils, and i don’t really like the whole ‘oh patriarchy hurts men too’ stuff because it neglects the fact that men reap so many material benefits from what some people deem ‘harm’ to them (emotional repression being the big one. it’s not great but when you’re the privileged party and gain power from it, who cares? it’s like the inverse of kozue trying to use sexuality to gain power: she can’t do that). but touga is a shitty dysfunctional person who has been shaped by violence and in turn perpetuated violence, and his character excels, imho, at examining how patriarchy functions and attempts to homogenise life’s many complexities. same deal as nanami really. they just play different roles in this gender essentialist nightmare that crunches out any grit. and you can extend that idea to all rgu characters but i am who i am and that is a kiryuu siblings enjoyer
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vestaldestroyer · 6 months
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Still thinking about this fic
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"this is why if you want to kiss you should kiss."
word count: 2354 warnings: brief mentions of alcohol + smoking notes: my first time posting my writing to tumblr so i hope you enjoy this!! i dont write very frequently, but i hope it's a nice read regardless <3
You sit on the old and broken couch, holding a red cup that’s half-filled with something you don’t plan on drinking. It’s dark. Someone brought a strobe light that barely functions; it’s something out of a bad high school party. You watch the party in slow flashes of blue, green, orange. A guy in the other room is pouring beer on himself. A girl you vaguely recognise from your hometown is plastered. She’ll probably be passed out on the shag carpet in a matter of minutes. Someone is playing too-loud house music through busted speakers. At the other end of the couch, someone else is straddling their boyfriend’s lap. None of their kisses meet the guy’s lips, but they don’t care. 
In the midst of the bleak scene, there’s you.
After about thirty minutes of the party, you had become unsure of why you were even there. Something about a new friend dragging you along, something about needing to meet new people. You know it’s certainly true, but a voice in the back of your head nags at you, saying that this feels more pathetic than if you had just stayed home tonight. 
You look around the room for nothing in particular, even though your eyes are analysing every detail they fall on. Maybe you’re praying for just one familiar face. The friend who had dragged you along is long gone, and the longer you think about it, the more you begin to panic. You take a sip of your drink out of desperation; it’s sickly warm and unpleasant going down, but something’s got to calm the nerves. 
You finally get to your feet, deciding to abandon the couple next to you before they go all the way. You walk around the house aimlessly, trying not to bump into the warm bodies all around you. People are dancing like there’s nowhere else they’d rather be. They don’t seem to notice how bad the music is, or the sickening combined smell of weed and vomit that seems to hang in every room. You envy this carelessness, the ability to let go of cynicism for a night. 
Miraculously, you manage to push yourself to the front door, letting out a sigh of relief as it swings open and you step out onto the concrete steps. The February air bites you, but you relish the sting of the cold against your ears and nose, letting it seep into the rest of your body. Few people are out here; one person is lying facedown on the grass, passed out. You spot a group of friends walking home, stumbling a little but laughing loudly. What really catches your eye, though, are the faint wisps of cigarette smoke drifting through the air. It’s coming from around the side of the house. You walk towards it, listening to the somewhat foolish hope in your mind that maybe this person is just as miserable as you.
He’s standing there and he’s beautiful. You can’t make out the details of his features in the darkness, but you feel your breathing hitch. Suddenly you’re an idiot for approaching him, because he’s staring at you expectantly and you have nothing to say. His eyebrows are raised as he withdraws the cigarette from his lips. When you take too long to search for words, he spares you further embarrassment and takes the lead. “Party ended up a bit rubbish, didn’t it?”
This seems to pull you out of your stupor. You silently curse yourself before responding, unable to figure why your brain had short-circuited at the sight of the stranger. “Yeah… you know it’s bad when it looks like a 17 year old’s idea of a rager.”
He laughs at this, gracing you with a kind smile. Without a word, he reaches into his pocket and offers you a cigarette.
A smoke suddenly sounds like the most wonderful thing in the world.
You’re about to ask for a lighter when he says, “Here, I’ll do it.” You hold the cigarette to your lips while he pulls the lighter out of the same pocket. He holds your wrist to steady your hand, which is shaking slightly from the cold. Your eyes dart away, not wanting to make eye contact while his skin is on yours. It feels so childish to be acting like this around a mystery guy you’ve spoken to for about thirty seconds, but you can’t help it.
The two of you stand there together for the next minute, inhaling and exhaling in unison. It’s dead quiet, and it’s freezing, but it’s cathartic. 
You don’t notice him stealing glances at you, trying to catch every detail in the minimal light. He comes to the conclusion that you seem well worth a night of adventure, which is when he asks, “D’you want to get out of here?”
You look up at him, a little taken aback. “I don’t even know your name…?”
“Matty.”
You pause to think, but then quickly decide against thinking. “I’d love to ditch with you, Matty.”
You’re shocked by your own answer, yet pleasantly surprised. You don’t know what’s made you drop your senses, forget about going home, but you’re a little proud. This is what you had been aching over just earlier tonight. So, as Matty snuffs out his cigarette and you follow suit, you force back the creeping doubt that’s coming through. This is fine. You have your wits about you. You figure anywhere is better than here, anyway.
Matty leads the both of you back around to the front of the house, cautiously stepping around the passed out body on the lawn. He pauses by the front steps. “Anyone you need to let know you’re leaving?”
It’s reassuring that he asks this, but you shrug in a noncommittal manner. “I suppose not, no.” You think back to the girl that had convinced you to come here. She’s sweet to have attempted to take you under her wing, but her attempt was fruitless. You doubt your absence will be noticed, but you take no issue with this. “What about you? Who’re you leaving behind?” you question, suddenly wondering why Matty had been so eager to escape with you – aside from the fact that the party was very clearly only going to get bleaker. He’s charismatic, he’s sweet, he’s much more attractive than you like to admit. It’s a wonder that he isn’t back inside, thriving in the center of everything, everyone.
Matty simply mimics your shrug, but a sly smile is spread across his face. “Ah, they can live without me for a night. Doubt my friends are sticking around much longer, they probably hate it here too.”
You accept his answer. Part of you wants to smile to yourself at this feeling of being at least somewhat desired, being chosen. Especially by Matty, a person who is now consistently piquing your interest. The feeling is new, but it warms you. But maybe the warmth you feel is because Matty has now taken your hand in his, leading you off the lawn and into the street.
“God, you’re freezing,” he mumbles, furrowing his brow as you continue walking together.
You laugh a little at this. “Matty, it’s gotta be subzero right now, of course I’m freezing.”
Matty just hums at this. Without a word, he pulls you much closer to his side. You’re met with the smell of cologne, cigarettes, and what you pick out to be the faintest trace of weed. On most people, this would be repulsive, but there’s something strangely comforting about the scent of Matty, and suddenly you realise you don’t want to be pulled away from his side like this.
Apprehension must be showing on your face, though, because Matty breaks the silence by saying, “I don’t bite, you know. If you’re feeling anxious we can go back, love.”
You look up at him, still somewhat pressed to his side. “No, no,” you say hurriedly, “I actually quite like this.”
This brings a true smile to Matty’s face, and you almost think that’s enough to warm your entire body. It’s a wide smile, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle up just a bit, and the grip of his arm around you tightens almost imperceptibly. “I think I quite like you.”
“Oh, come on now,” you say behind your own smile. “You haven’t asked my name yet, you know.”
Matty stops in his tracks at this, causing you to come to a halt as well. “God, I haven’t!” he exclaims. “I’m so sorry, er… what’s your name, darling?”
You give an exaggerated roll of your eyes and sigh, “I suppose I can tell you it’s [Y/N] now that you’ve finally been a gentleman to me.”
“That’s enough,” he groans. “I swear, I only forgot because I’ve been so enamored with you.”
You can’t quite tell if he’s being serious here, but something in his voice suggests genuineness. At least, that’s what you hope it is. “Enamored, huh?” you ask, trying to prod more out of him.
Matty pretends not to hear you, though, and you decide that’s your cue to move on from the moment. As you walk toward whatever Matty’s destination is, you fill the time with questions about each other. You start with small-talk questions (“What music are you into?” “What brings you to this town?” “Do you have a girlfriend?”), but Matty is more interested in big-talk. He’s very much so determined to open you up, to get inside your head and never leave. It doesn’t even take long before he becomes more and more successful in this venture. You find yourself speaking easily, passionately, with Matty. His conversations aren’t self-serving – they don’t exist for him to be pretentious or for him to talk himself up. His conversations exist because he wants to listen.  He hangs on to every word you say like a lifeline, and you can feel this. You feel his deep, gentle eyes trained on you as you pick the right words to answer his question with.
You’re not even particularly aware anymore of the fact that his arm is still wrapped around you, or that your walk with Matty has diverged from the road and instead led you to a park with winding tree-lined paths. When there’s a lull in the conversation, Matty quickly tells you, “I promise I’m not taking us anywhere dodgy.”
For the first time during this whole adventure, you pull away from him, eyebrows raised. “You know that sounds extremely dodgy, don’t you?”
Matty cocks his head to the side, as if pondering your question. “You’ll just have to trust me then, huh?”
You shove Matty lightly. “I’ve given you the gift of my absolute blind trust this whole night, don’t make me regret it just when I’m starting to have fun.”
Another wide grin spreads across his face. “We’re almost where I wanted to take you, anyway.”
He leads you, hand in hand, through one of the wooded paths. It slowly rises upward on an incline, and you start silently praying that the ground levels out before you break into a sweat, even in the frigid air.
Then, before you even realise, the ground actually has leveled out and you’re at the top of a hill. The pathway Matty led you through has faded into the grass here, and all that lays before you is a grassy field and an inky sky, each stretching into nothingness. Stars speckle the sky and a half moon accompanies them, and it’s all too beautiful.
Matty is watching you, waiting for a reaction. “I think it’s quite spectacular here,” he starts. “It’s all quite plain and mundane – just grass and all that. But that’s sort of spectacular, d’you know what I mean?”
You nod in agreement, turning to look at Matty. He looks like he belongs in this scene, a very small and quiet smile adorning his face. A thin beam of moonlight has fallen across him, and this is the moment you take in every visible detail of him. He could’ve been sculpted by the gods, the way each feature compliments one another so perfectly. You wonder how his curls would feel between your fingers or against your cheek. You wonder if his lips fit with yours.
He’s staring back at you now but neither of you seem to care. Time has frozen still and you both know something will happen, but for this moment neither of you wish to speak it into existence. Every detail of this needs to be memorised.
“Would it be too forward to ask to kiss you?” Matty asks softly.
An hour or two ago you would have left right there and gone home. You think about how pathetic you felt in that living room on the beer-soaked couch. You think about Matty listening so carefully to every word you speak, about how gorgeous he is, about how badly you simply want to kiss him. And you decide that’s enough. Against any reasoning that would’ve told you off for kissing a stranger, you shake your head and let Matty’s lips meet yours. The taste of his cigarette still lingers there, and you savor it. Your lips melt into his, seeking the warmth he provides against the cold night. It's magic; you feel as though you're falling into him. His fingers brush against your cheek, which gives you the courage to raise your own hand to meet his hair, twirling a loose curl around your finger. 
Matty is the first to break the kiss, and when he does, you don’t know where to look. He notices this very quickly and uses his index finger to tilt your head back to face him again. “I’m glad we did that.”
You’re glad too. Something has been planted inside you. It tells you to kiss Matty all over again because maybe all that matters right now is the fact that he is looking at you like an angel has just graced his lips. He is looking at you like you’re the very stars hanging above. And you have never felt something more right than letting yourself kiss him.
“Could we do it again?”
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sharpace · 1 year
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46. What Home Feels Like
One of the comics I wrote while I had COVID. Pulling the curtain back a bit, I had to be completely isolated and had a particularly rough time for two and half weeks. I had so little energy, I missed out on a lot of my usual social time so I felt pretty lonely on top of physically terrible. The only “social” interaction I could get through that time was through Animal Crossing and that became my countdown until I could be allowed to rejoin the world. But I will say, the original comic written during COVID was... incomprehensible but, at least, I remembered my fevered thesis. Ha.
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compacflt · 3 months
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question: how do you find your research/sources? yours and dancing disasters' icemav fics are so inside baseball i love it, but how do you go about doing research?
I just read a lot & google stuff I don't know & am curious about. not that hard to start learning. and in terms of reading I've been interested in military history & milfiction my whole life. mostly related to the US army, actually--im extremely new to naval history and naval literature; all of that interest was driven by top gun. I've also been fortunate enough to visit a lot of the places I write about--ive been to Pearl Harbor a couple times & San Diego MANY times, for instance, and I've toured a few aircraft carriers and military bases. I've also finally bitten the bullet and kinda shifted my career path towards aerospace, so I've been learning a lot just by working in the aerospace & defense sector/spending a lot of time with people who do.
that's obviously not to say that I am somehow Educated in all this stuff. im pretty open on this blog about me being young & naive & wrong much of the time about how the real world works. so, you know, a lot of shit I just Make Up according to my preconceived notions of the military & the world.
here is my recommended military/navy reading list, some fiction and some nonfiction.
someone also asked recently if I had read anything good in the last 6 months--yes!! three new additions to my reading list: a) Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk by Ben Fountain. So goddamn good. If you have to read only one novel about the Iraq War, make it this one. It's more about America than it is about Iraq. b) Redeployment by Phil Klay. This one is a collection of short stories about Marines in Iraq, written by a USMC vet, talk about inside baseball. Crazy amounts of jargon in here, basically a "to-google" list. won the national book award which idk if it deserved, but it's good. c) No true glory: A Frontline Account of the Battle of Fallujah by Bing West. currently reading this one, really well done so far, talks a lot about how fucked the US strategy was in Iraq with Fallujah serving as a metonymy/case study for the war itself.
again... this is all mostly close-quarters-combat (infantry) literature, I really am not that interested in the navy/Air Force that much outside of top gun lol
though I did recently remember that in early 2022, before I was into top gun, I read "Wingmen" by Ensan Case, which is actually a gay US naval aviator romance set in WWII published in 1979! it's really authentic and kind of sad, obviously, since it was a 1940s navy gay love story published in 1979. I don't actually think Wingmen influenced how I wrote wwgattai or how I think of TG/TGM but I just remembered that I read that book in February 2022 and going "oh my god they were wingmen" so maybe you might find that book interesting.
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ms-all-sunday · 2 months
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^ lied to you when he says he's never made a one piece au before
soulmate au east blue polycule
remember like, a few months ago when I said I had written the most I have ever done in a month and then I didn't post anything? it was to this beast that I lost those words. writing this with @awitchandawanderer is my biggest project ive ever done. and its my favourite east blue polycule fic i've read/made.
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hella1975 · 11 months
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you ever have a fic get you in such a chokehold you start pacing your room and talking to yourself
#THIS FIC WAS WRITTEN FOR ME SPECIFICALLY#BURN IT ALL DOWN BY DOROTHYCANFLY ON AO3 THIS IS GENUINELY ONE OF MY TOP 5 FICS OF ALL TIME EVER#IT'S GOT THE BEST DABI CHARACTERISATION IVE EVER COME ACROSS IT'S GOT REALLY WELL WRITTEN DABIHAWKS#THAT FITS BOTH OF THEM LIKE THEY'RE MEAN AS HELL ABOUT IT AT FIRST#IT'S GOT STUPIDLY DEVOTED TOUYA-SHOUTO IT'S GOT PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER TOUYA#IT'S GOT MENTAL ANGST WRITTEN LIKE A DREAM THE WRITING IN GENERAL IS INSANE#IT'S ACTION PACKED BUT DONE WELL SO THAT IT'S NOT TEDIOUS IT'S FUNNY IT'S GOT TWISTS#IT'S KEEPING ME ON MY TOES I NEVER KNOW WHAT'S COMING OR HOW FAR THE AUTHOR IS WILLING TO GO#IVE LITERALLY READ 300K WORDS IN TWO DAYS AT THIS POINT LIKE I AM ABSOLUTELY FINISHING THIS TONIGHT#WHAT THE FUCK EVEN AM I GONNA DO WITH MYSELF AFTER THIS#EVERY NEW THING THAT HAPPENS LITERALLY HAS ME GETTING UP TO PACE ABOUT#I CLOCKED OUT OF MY MUM TELLING ME OFF EARLIER BC I WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS FIC#DO U KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THAT IS BASO JUST SIGNED MY DEATH WARRANT BUT I DIDNT CARE#losing my goddamn mind respectfully <3 if anyone has read this pls yell with me about it#and if anyone knows mha and wants a fic rec PLEASE let it be this one it's my fav mha fic ever and ive read A LOT#it gets quite smutty in the middle but if that's not ur thing the author tws very well and u can kinda just scroll#so that u still get the important character developments without it being just pure smut lol#god this FIC. holding it in my fucking fist and squeezing the everloving life out of it im going INSANE#i cant remember the last time a fic got me this way im literally giggling about it all#HE FOUND A REASON TO LIVE AGAIN THEY TOOK THIS MANGLED BLOODY BOY AND SAID WE LOVE YOU#YOU ARE GOOD YOU CAN STAY YOU CAN REST NOW WE'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU AND HE CHOSE THEM! HE CHOSE THEM!#OVER HIS REVENGE AND HIS RAGE HE CHOSE THEM! IM GOING TO BE VIOLENTLY SICK#like the author LETS DABI BE A CUNT. the first chunk of the fic he's actively not a good person#and his coping mechanisms are shot to shit and we WATCH HIM GROW FROM THAT i have cried several times over the most mundane shit#goddddddddDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDAKSJFJKAGSFIUAHGJKAKG#mha#fic rec
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plounce · 3 months
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fun fact i can never use as small talk is that one time a podcast reviewed my hades fic. got a comment on the fic like "hey we covered this on our podcast!". they were very nice but i don't think they knew what i meant when i tagged it "pre-relationship"
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veryinnovative · 5 months
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omega james using his own slick to work alpha reg open
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redrageoused · 4 months
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There are few things worse than being invited to stay at his best friends-slash-long term crushes house for some of the off-season. Being in debt for the rest of his life is pretty bad but, is it really worse than spending two weeks in their house? Probably not.
AKA: Kevin Day is a fucked up person- he knows that, he’s accepted it. He doesn’t get why Jean and Jeremy don’t care.
NEW FIC !! suneater by redrageoused on ao3: 3/7(TBD) chapters out, 8.1k words as of right now. Incredibly heavy on prettyboy kevin day, and teasing kings jean and jeremy. they call him princess. he kneels for them. its kinda goated.
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findinghomes · 10 months
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to leave (and turn to dust)
8k | 1/1 | teen | tags: dnf, fairytale au, exes to lovers, heavy angst, grief/mourning, happy ending
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And George knew what would come next. He’d heard it thousands of times and would likely hear it a thousand times more.
So, instead, he stopped it before it began. “Sapnap, don’t.”
“He’s not—“
Like that, the anger came back. It felt like pain, like knuckles splitting against skin. “What, Sap? He’s not coming back? He’s not returning? He doesn’t care about us? I know. I know.”
-
A year after Dream leaves, George begins to simultaneously heal and unravel. (Or, a retelling of Sleeping Beauty from the prince’s perspective.)
Part of the Fairytales from the SMP collection
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