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folklorefairyy · 3 years

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* my all time faves!

celebration post !

this list could be so much longer and there are some amazing moots i have that i havent included or haven’t had the chance to read for (namely bucky since that list is so big dhdhd) and so check out the moots tagged on my celebration post and go check out all their works because they are genuinely amazing)

i might do another of these one day so that i can get more fics on but just know if you’re a moot and i havent included a fic of yours i love your work and i love you and i just think ur amazing

➱ Bucky Barnes

wakanda by @buckybarnesdiaries *

Steve gives you Bucky's dog tags for a reason.

froot loops by @burninmatches // more than just destruction *

bucky helps you during a tough time and maybe your relationship is not just mentor and student.

drunk in love by @burninmatches

you got infected by the love serum and now you’ve fallen in love with one of your closests friends, peter parker. what happens to your boyfriend, bucky barnes?

as long as i’m here, no one can hurt you by @blackberrybucky *

bucky holds you through the sadness

i’d never hurt you by @cap-n-stuff *

bucky x short!civilian!fem!reader who meet in Bucharest with reader as a tourist and as Bucky’s getting his plums reader trips and catches her - a relationship ensues yet the fairytale comes crashing down when Bucky is framed for the UN bombing and Steve and Sam come to get him

innocence by @extremelyblackandwhite

bucky barnes, recently retired avenger, is hired as a bodyguard for an innocent upcoming actress.

warm by @revengingbarnes *

“The fire alarm in our building went off and you rushed out without a coat. Wanna share my blanket?”

period. by @greyslytherin

Bucky Barnes taking care of the reader while she’s on her period

bucky having a nightmare by @cap-n-stuff

imagine bucky having a nightmare and walking into the readers room with a blanket and waking her up asking to be the small spoon

➱ Peter Maximoff

the coolest twinkie by @amourtentiaa *

where the reader discovers they have a mutation and is lowkey panicking and Peter is just there like “BUT THIS IS AWESOME!” and just generally full of encouragement while trying to calm you tf down

adventures in parenting 101: nightmares by @milkytheholy

peter maximoff x reader being new parents and raising a kid in the mansion

ivy by @sunflowergirl522 *

Your mutation is controlling and growing plants. Peter spots you one day while he’s running and makes it his mission to get close to you. You then use flowers to tell him what you think of him without actually saying it.

(just check out zoe’s full peter maximoff masterlist because she’s bloody incredible at writing peter and i need to read more of them!!)

bad behaviour by @free-pool-trash *

Peter x Reader where they’re in the sitcom reality and Billy and/or Tommy get in trouble in school so they ask them to pretend to be their parents so Wanda and Vision don’t find out

convenience store by @quicksilverownsmysoul

you work at the local convenience store, everyday the same, that is until someone speeds by. Someone brings a little more excitement to your life than you bargained for

➱ Pietro Maximoff

the other half by @burninmatches

You and Pietro have been walking through the fine line past friends and before… something else. Perhaps a handful of moments, though the domestic bliss of sharing food to the boiling feelings under your skin, would change everything.

double sided recipe card by @vanillann *

where the reader tries to cook sokovian food for him because he’s homesick

kiss of life by @dem-obscure-imagines

You are an Avenger with the power to heal. However, you didn’t expect to catch feelings for the man you brought back from the dead.

➱ Peter Parker

sweater weather by @beskar-tano *

You spend a cozy evening by the bonfire with the Avengers and your boyfriend, Peter Parker.

the ship by @itsapeterthing *

you and your best friend and teammate, peter parker, go to a costume party only to discover that everyone believes that you and peter’s alternate super-hero identities are dating.

stuck in my brain by @felicityparkers

whatever music that is stuck in your head is stuck in your soulmate’s head too.

i have them too by @tom-holland-is-spiderman

A headcanon of Peter Parker comforting the reader with stretch marks and they get ashamed of them so they hide their body from Peter making him feel sad.

by the elevator by @peterbenjiparker * (there are two parts to this and the second is linked on the op)

You break your hand after punching the elevator door. But luckily the cute boy is there to help out. You thought you would never see him again but you both keep running into each other by the same elevator.

➱ Thor Odinson

totally not a date by @superficialstark *

in which you go on a double date with tony and pepper expecting steve to show up as a mate date and instead being met with thor who you can’t help but be charmed by

but i just wanna hear your voice by @blackberrybucky

thor comes back after they defeat thanos and tries to make things right with you.

➱ Wanda Maximoff

of taunts and tickles by @beskar-tano *

Wanda spent the past few days trying to cheer you up and bring you out of your dreadful slump. After trying almost everything, she resorted to her last hopeful idea: a tickle fight.

➱ Natasha Romanoff

my girl by @beskar-tano

Natasha surprises you with a romantic date by the lake, surrounded by the beautiful scenery as fall takes its toll on the changing leaves.

➱ i’d love for you guys to suggest some fics for steve, sam and loki because i apparently don’t know of any in this dodgy brain of mine (she’s not working as i make this dhdhd) - you can also send some in for any i’ve not got too many fics on so far!

i havent written or read for star wars in so long (dw i am still a sw account and i love my sw moots ive just been on a marvel kick and haven’t had time to read many moots fics recently so they’re all piling up lol) and so i don’t think i could come up with a comprehensive enough list given the fact that there’s so many amazing fics coming out each day!

so instead i thought i’d direct you to some accounts that have some phenomenal work that i instantly fall in love with each time!!

➱ @etherealsanakin

poe dameron, anakin skywalker

➱ @xwing-baby

din djarin, poe dameron, star wars oc

➱ @dindjarindiaries

din djarin

➱ @sunsetkenobi

obi-wan kenobi, anakin skywalker, boba fett, din djarin, padmé amidala, rey, luke skywalker

➱ @artiza-n

anakin skywalker, marvel! (namely bucky)

➱ @beskar-tano

anakin skywalker, obi-wan kenobi, boba fett, din djarin, luke skywalker, fennec shand, poe dameron

➱ @anakinswhore

anakin skywalker

➱ @anakinlove

anakin skywalker

➱ @betweentwopines

din djarin, anakin skywalker, padmé amidala etc.

these are just some accounts that i have read regularly or some moots who post for these characters (and i need to get around reading for) but there’s so many more incredible writers for sw on here, some that i’m moots with too, that can self plug here if they want!! (my brain isn’t working today so i can’t think of everyone)

#fic recs #marvel #mcu #star wars #peter maximoff x reader #bucky barnes x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #sam wilson x reader #peter parker x reader #steve rogers x reader #thor odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #poe dameron x reader #din djarin x reader #boba fett x reader

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ajaxwrites · 3 years

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GENSHIN IMPACT FANFIC REC LIST II

(previous: part i)

Seaglass by Aevas

There was more to the contract than a gnosis and test of Liyue. It seemed like a simple deal five hundred years ago: so long as Morax never had a soulmate, the Tsaritsa would never harm Liyue and she would not get his gnosis. But the moment he gained a soulmate, all that belonged to him was forfeit. He thought the deal left Liyue safe—he'd lived thousands of years without a soulmate. The Tsaritsa would be dead and gone by the time she'd have a chance to collect.

Five hundred years later, Childe appears in Liyue, Zhongli gains a soulmate mark, and everything falls apart.

(The obligatory soulmate AU, featuring a Zhongli with PTSD, an oblivious Childe, and demon-worshipping cultists.)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: I CANNOT BELIEVE I SLEPT ON THIS FIC FOR SO LONG. Read it and I mean it! I admitted initially steered clear of this fic because I wasn’t comforted with a soulmate tartali fic pre-Osial but this fic is actually post-Ostial *facepalm* The writing is phenomenal and Aevas does some beautiful worldbuilding that you typically don’t see in Genshin Impact fics. I love the dynamic between Childe and Zhongli here and the angst is real. The author writes the two as very human characters who makes mistakes, etc. and notably Zhongli struggles with the concept of Childe as his soulmate (who understandably is upset by the rejection when he realizes). They get better though. Also very plotty. A+ writing.

it's a hard rock life for us by reptilianraven

“Ah, no need to worry about that,” Azhdaha waves a dismissive hand. “There is no real Kun Jun. He’s dead.”

A leaf blows past and plaps onto Aether’s face.

“You killed him???” Paimon screeches.

“No,” Azhdaha scrunches his eyebrows. “He was dead when I found him.”

“And you just decided to wear his corpse?” Aether says, leaf still on his face.

He shrugs. “It was free real estate.”

“Azhdaha...” Morax says, sounding vaguely pained.

Or the one where Historia Antiqua Chapter II: No Mere Stone goes a little bit different and Azhdaha gets more time.

He ultimately uses that time to bully Morax into confronting his immortal neuroses, to make Aether and Paimon suffer, and to figure out how to get that ginger boy Morax has his eye on to make a move already.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe, Past Azhdaha/Zhongli

Notes: Very lighthearted, humor-filled fic. Love how Azhdaha is so flippant. Interactions with Zhongli and Childe are pure gold.

if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes by moonlight_mist

Childe has a Weapon problem- specifically, that he can't keep one.

He's too reckless, too wild, and too keen on pushing his Weapon partners past their limits. He's just about ready to give up when he meets Zhongli, a Weapon who just might be the solution- so long as Childe can manage to keep his dick in his pants.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a Soul Eater AU with some college/university AU vibes (?) but you don’t really need to know much about the anime. It’s a cute AU and I love the premise. Light angst but otherwise, it’s a pretty semi-plotty fic. Easter egg Kaeya and Diluc though.

To Kill A God by IlluminanceinTales

In Snezhnaya, they call them sansis—lost souls that have no guidance but themselves. It’s an apt description, given that most of the time, wannabe-Archons have to go through dozens of tests with nothing as their reference, relying solely on their wit and strength and hoping it would be enough. At least, until they survive the end of the whole game—and they might not have to undergo a painful reincarnation which feels like a hundred bones being stitched together again.

On his seventh game, Childe Tartaglia reincarnates this time in the body of a young man.

Damn, he thinks, looking down at his thin body, his slightly calloused fingers. This won’t be good when facing the other Hydro Decisions.

In a world where an Archon's position is not chosen but fought for in games, Childe Tartaglia is a Hydro Decision who's poised to become the next Hydro Archon. Of course, that's only if he survives his seventh reincarnation. All would be so much easier if it weren't for a certain Geo Archon interfering with every possible chance he gets.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Think Hunger Games meet Political Intrigue meet Genshin Impact. Love the premise and world building that’s done. Features overprotective Zhongli and lots of Childe whump. Has one or two supplementary OCs that aren’t really important outside of plot device reasons. Warning for character death tho lmao.

Three's a Family by IlluminanceinTales

Childe finds a kid that looks just like him.

Of course Zhongli wants to keep him.

Or: How a harbinger and an archon accidentally become fathers. The kid is their wingman

Ships: Childe/Zhongli (?)

Notes: Your everyday cute AF kid fic. Fluffy as hell and super cute. Zhongli and Childe get domestic pretty quickly. Xiao gets dubbed a grandfather and begrudgingly plays along. Super wholesome.

in pitch dark i go walking in your landscape by snowbrigade

He glanced down at him, at the silvery scars peeking out from beneath his robe, and at his eyes, properly now. They were the bright blue of high quality noctilucous jade, but he could see it, an underlying darkness.

Zhongli wondered what his eyes betrayed about himself. --

Rex Lapis is dead. Zhongli, formerly known as triad leader Rex Lapis, is a detective investigating his own "death." Childe, also known as Tartaglia of the Fatui mafia, is undercover as an escort looking to kill Rex Lapis- until someone beats him to it, and he wants to know who. Goals intersecting, they form a partnership of ulterior motives.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: There’s like one scene that skews NSFW but otherwise surprisingly not explicit. Really fun AU. Like how the author addresses Childe’s reaction to being stuck with the undercover escort stuff and how the dynamic between the two develops. Pretty plotty so far.

Phantom Lines by iskendaris

“It’s a measure of one’s self, Mr Zhongli.” Childe says. “Maybe you don’t understand it since you work as a consultant, but as an ambassador from the Tsaritsa, as one who fights in her name— this is how I learn to know the measure of myself.” “I understand,” Zhongli says thoughtfully. “It is a warrior’s way, to test one’s strength against the incomparable. To find where one falls short. To find where one has risen to the challenge.”

In which Childe has insomnia, vandalizes public property and runs into a mysterious funeral consultant on his first night in Liyue.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: THE FEELS. I can only describe this as the fic where Zhongli pays Best Boyfriend Ever only to FUCK UP big time (via Gnosis deception). Poor, poor Childe. Look, he gave the boy feelings and then broke him. You can really feel Childe fall in love in this love. He also does mental swooning a lot lmao.

adventitious by Anonymous

It's said the Ley Lines remember all things that happen in this world, from the surface down to the deepest depths... But in the hidden corners where the Gods' gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming.

There's a dormant bud where Kaeya's eye once was. One day, it will bloom. (Never forget: memory is untrustworthy.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: I don’t even know where to start. This is very headcanony and lore-focused. Very much concentrated on Khaenri'ah. The implications of this story is grotesque to say the least (according to this fic, Visions are the literal eyes of the people of Khaenri'ah). Warnings for eye and body horror.

Without Those Dark Memories by StrangeDiamond

Diluc awakens in Stormterror’s Lair with no memories of the past five years. Kaeya is on the trail of a rogue alchemist, with a habit of testing his chemicals on unwilling human subjects. Now, in addition to capturing the criminal, Kaeya has to shake him down for an antidote . . . and deal with an amnesiac Diluc who acts exactly like he did before their brotherhood fell apart. (Standalone Fic.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: This is sort of a classic amnesia fic. I particularly really liked the way that Kaeya was written in this. I feel like the author did a really good job nailing his character and they have a way of capturing the subtle things.

Through the warmth, through the cold by strikedawn

“It’s you!” Paimon shouted with a twirl in mid-air.

“…Excuse me?"

They were drunk. Were they drunk? Was he drunk? Because Kaeya had the feeling his guests had been talking to him for a while now, but none of their words had made any sense whatsoever.

That was, until Venti stepped firmly in front of Kaeya’s desk and set his hands on the top, the better to lean over towards Kaeya and say: “For the end of the Windblume festival, Sir Kaeya Alberich, we’re going to auction a date with you.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Shortword, Kaeya gets auctioned off. Diluc makes impulsive (but good) decisions and scores himself a Date but displays an inability to do Date Planning. Venti deserves a pat on the back. Very sweet.

Hide and Seek by Kiri_Kaitou_Clover

Childe did not expect regaining his memories would bring him such frustration.

He makes the best of the situation by messing with one amber eyed consultant in anyway he can.

A reincarnated storm god wades through life in Liyue, all while screaming about one dragon god's incompetency at being human.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Features Childe as Osial’s very exasperated reincarnation, who gets the joy of discovering that his rival/enemy Morax is not only an idiot but also broke AF. He still falls in love anyway. Contains this golden line:

"Did... did that complete blockhead really use my money in order to get me a gift that basically says that he is proposing to me?!"

(Osial was screaming. When had the other god become like this?! Had he always been like this?!)

Getting that Bread by tzitzimeme

Concubine AU where Zhongli is Emperor, Xiao is an assassin sent to kill him while disguised as a woman in his imperial harem, and the only reason he doesn't actually do it is because he pities Zhongli for being so catastrophically stupid (also Xiao falls in love).

Ships: Zhongli/Xiao

Notes: Like Xiao says, Zhongli is an idiot. Fluff and humor filled. Xiao spends a good 95% of this exasperated by Zhongli’s bullshit.

prayers for a boy by Recluse

The only way to reconciliation is fierce combat!

Hm... Come to think of it, there will be a lot of interesting news to be heard the next time we gather for drinks. Filling in the blanks.

Ships: N/A

Notes: I...don’t really know where to begin with this? It’s exactly what the summary implies...but more? I was tempted to describe this as the fic where Zhongli puts his foot in his mouth but...that’s not exactly write? I feel like this was more of a character study. It explores the aftermath of the Osial Incident and how Zhongli and Childe reconnect. Platonically...though I guess it can be read romantically.

one kind of longing, two places of sorrow by lady_peony

Zhongli's hands rest behind his back, both gloved hands clasping one another. His fingers tighten around one another for the merest moment, before he relaxes his grip.

"There is a tradition in Liyue," Zhongli says, his back still to Childe standing behind him, "of inviting out a companion to a last meal before a farewell."

A pause.

"A tradition?" Childe echoes.

"Yes."

"With a companion?"

"Yes."

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The fic where neither of the two communicate about jackshit but go on a quiet, sad not-date before Childe leaves for Snezhnaya. Childe pulls (? on accident or on purpose, I can not tell) the equivalent of leaving the jacket in the car post-date to get date to call for the second date. Also, the author has a gift for like...writing angst...without writing angst? Like the whole fic is like brimming with everything that the characters aren’t saying but the thoughts aren’t necessarily written out BUT YOU KNOW THOSE DUMBFUCKS ARE JUST LIKE. BRIMMING WITH FEELS?

The People of Liyue by queer_occurrences

But Zhongli whispers, his low voice rooted in the back of Childe’s mind. “Changsun, the merchant, who is never too Mora-enthralled to turn away a needy child. There’s Tiantian—she will allow anyone to join the Adventurer’s Guild—she knows what it is to be desperate.”

Childe ducks away from them and hurries out over the bridge. It’s a warm, sunny day, the kind he would have complained about, whining about his delicate Snezhnayan skin. “It’ll burn, or worse, freckle. Would you still like me if I was freckled?”

Then Zhongli would say, “The people of Liyue will remember your sacrifice.” And he would wrinkle his nose.

Or: after it all goes down, Childe takes a walk.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The author has a way with perfectly balancing angst with humor in a way that makes you cackle. There’s a lot of feels in this one. Zhongli tries communicating--Childe runs away a lot. There’s a lot of love for Liyue in this one.

cold blooded, warm blooded, hearts all the same by reptilianraven

Teyvat Petting Zoo @tyvtpettingzoo

Well would you look at that! Zhongli, our resident spinytail iguana, has gotten quite cozy with Childe, our new (and very feisty) ginger ferret! Aren’t they adorable all cuddled together like this? 😍😍😍

[Attached image shows a brown spinytail iguana curled up against a ginger ferret. The iguana’s head is nuzzled under the snout of the ferret.]

At the Teyvat Petting Zoo, Zhongli and Childe fall in love.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: ...I promise I’m not weird. This is just super cute. Cross-species love affair? Childe the ferret is very besotted. The internet is confused and the zoo keepers are just done.

a geo archon's guide to the modern era by Erina

“Morax,” Xiao says after Zhongli finishes his retelling of the incident. “He thinks you’re a weirdo.”

“No, don’t say that,” Barbatos snickers. “You’ll give him hope that this is salvageable.” He lowers his voice. “Morax, he thinks you’re a boomer.”

(In which Zhongli hibernates for centuries and wakes up in the modern world)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This took me, I shit you not, FIVE SEPARATE ATTEMPTS to read. Not because it was bad but BECAUSE THE SECOND HAND EMBARRASSMENT WAS REAL. Like, omg, just reading about Zhongli’s introduction to modernity made me want to dig a hole and die. Super funny though. Do not read in public or you will look like a lunatic. Has a...parallel (?) fic in the same series called buy two get one archon free where Zhongli gets reversed isekai’d into an anime convention.

time flies like an arrow by Erina

He’s tired, tired of the unbreakable loop of watching his loved ones pass on, tired of getting attached only for the connection to be violently ripped away from him. He wonders if the real victors during the Archon War were those who perished, who died long before their godhood turned into a curse that chained them to the land that they were fighting for.

But that is not a problem for Childe to worry about. That is Zhongli’s burden to bear, delivered to him in a pretty package years ago in the form of a gnosis.

His very first contract.

(Zhongli and Childe, across many lifetimes)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a quiet fic. It’s this kind of slice-of-life fic colored by this overpowering sense of love and loss as Zhongli remains immortal and Childe dies and lives and dies and lives for hundreds of lifetimes, but always finds his way back to his geo archon. It’s so lovely but also unbearably sad.

Tartaglia’s Favorite Professor by GreyLiliy

The famed hitman Tartaglia of the Fatui Syndicate spends his days as the charming college student Childe. The two lives remain as separate as possible in order to maintain a flawless cover to keep the authorities off his back and to better serve the Tsaritsa.

However, new intel about a rival syndicate intersects his two lives in a way he could never have predicted.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Mafia AU meet College AU. Childe is somehow both a horny AF college student and murderous hitman. Zhongli gives off major DILF vibes. GreyLily somehow makes this work while also avoiding cringe. Highly recommended!

like a handprint on my heart by fallingintodivinity

“Strictly off-the-record,” Jean says, with a small smile, “I’m really happy to see you and Captain Kaeya getting along again, Master Diluc.”

“We’re not – we’re not getting along,” Diluc tells her, indignant. “We’re working together. Unwillingly, I might add.”

“Yes – oh, yes, of course.”

Diluc stares at Jean suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jean clears her throat primly. “I would never.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Super, super cute! Sort of reads like a first date fic except genshin impact style? Writing style is very refreshing!

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #fanfic rec #rec list #zhongli/childe #childe/zhongli #tartali #chili #diluc./kaeya #luckae #fanfiction #took a while but i have been steadily reading my way through the fandom #still not all my recs #but you can check my ao3 for what i'm reading lmao

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mongooseblues · 3 years

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Bless You Father for I Have Sinned (Fleabag, Hot Priest) 1/1

Did anyone watch Fleabag and/or want to read about a hot priest sneezing?

This works just fine as a standalone if u haven’t seen the show but for context: Hot Irish prob alcoholic “cool swear-y” priest and recovering sex addict and all-around hot mess main character (who doesn’t have a name) strike up a “friendship” that is just a poorly veiled excuse for spending time with someone they want very badly to fuck but can’t bc priesthood vow of celibacy and whatnot.

Here’s ~2k words in which I continuously get off on the idea of blessing a priest and unresolved sexual tension I also don’t resolve.

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

“Fuck you, calling me Father like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it…”

It happens for maybe ten minutes before it starts to stick out to her. Because it’s cold, as it always is on early-spring nights in London, and while they’re both fully dressed (unfortunately), neither is probably quite dressed enough to be out in a garden at this hour. And they’re a bit drunk—not that drunk, they’re both pretty practiced—on the G&Ts he’s so fond of for whatever reason. He specifically likes the kind you get already mixed in a can, which are especially shit, but it’s almost endearing that he likes those in particular. Well, very endearing actually. Goddamn this man—or… hmm, poor choice of words.

It doesn’t really grab her attention until he combines the sniffling with pinching his nostrils together.

“You alright, you’re quite sniffly?”

“I know, I dunno what’s going on,” he says, and punctuates it with a harsher sniffle than the ones previously unacknowledged, “Think ‘m just cold.” He zips his sweatshirt up a bit as if to illustrate.

“We could get you a blanket and swaddle you up like baby Jesus.”

He laughs. She extracts from her coat pocket a pack of cigarettes, takes one herself and angles the carton toward him in offering. Mostly because she wants him to scoot closer to her on the bench as she flicks the lighter for him. The flame illuminates the angles of his face in orange, the back of his fingers grazing her hand by happy accident, and yes, it’s a little pathetic that this momentary skin-to-skin contact is as erotic as it is to her, but that’s what you get when you fancy a priest isn’t it?

“They’re always describing him as being swaddled. Odd word, swaddled. Sounds kind of violent.”

“It does kind of,” he agrees, leaning back against the bench and exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air. Her plan worked, he’s ever so slightly closer to her now, post cigarette exchange, close enough that when he sniffles she can feel the slight vibration of his shoulders through the loose fabric on her coat sleeve. It unites them like an accidental spark of electricity she can sense just faintly enough to feel jumpy. Or turned on. Or both.

She really shouldn’t be this shameless about trying desperately to corrupt a man of the cloth she wants to get under. Maybe she’d feel properly guilty if she wasn’t quite so fucking horny.

“So you did read more than just the passages I marked for you?” He asks, at once surprised and pleased and maybe nervous, grinning but also looking away for a moment as if he could disguise all of that.

“Not really, just the birth of the ol’ lord and savior. It seemed like it’d be climactic.”

“Was it?”

“Can’t say I climaxed reading it, no,” she says with a cheeky look that elicits the laughter she’s looking for, “No offense but it’s really quite boring, this book you love so much.”

“Yeah… that’s a tragically common sentiment among reviewers.” He’s scratching at his nose with the back of one wrist with such intensity it’s unmistakeable how much it’s bothering him.

“Don’t care much for the writing style either, I have to say.”

If the irritation could be resolved with a mouse-like scrunch of the nose he’d have figured it out by now, and clearly he hasn’t because he still has to shrink into his crossed arms like an accordion with a fairly high-pitched, vocal and thus somehow Irish-accented, “Hehh-ishhYUE!”

“Bless. The only way I was able to get through it was by imagining you in every speaking role.”

It’s a sentence meant to provoke him, not unlike most of her sentences, and for a minute as her eyes are on her own exhaled smoke and he fails to respond, she wonders whether it sounded even weirder than she meant it, but as it turns out he’s just about to sneeze again — squinting into the distance and bringing an arm to his face in slow motion.

“Mmff-SHOO!” He blinks in surprise as he resumes his previous position on the bench, now shifted just a bit farther away from her. Damn.

“Ugh, sorry. Every speaking role?? Ohfuck— ahh-ishSHEU!”

“Jesus.”

“You imagined me as Jesus??”

“No I mean Jesus, are you okay, did you catch something?” Of course she imagined him as Jesus.

“Ooh I hope not,” he says with a nervous look, “that’d be lousy timing.”

“The lord works in mysterious ways.”

“Thuh-that he does—” A sudden inhale, a crooked arm rising at a much hastened speed. It begins in a manageable way, somewhat controlled, but then it seems to get away from him.

“Hh… hehd’SHHUE!”

“Bless you, Father."

He mumbles a thank you bookended by soft snuffling.

“Maybe he’s sent you a plague of sneezing. He does that sometimes doesn’t he? Send plagues?”

His face just scarcely conveys amusement before it’s hijacked again by the same expectant expression, but he still attempts to talk through it, even as irritation becomes evident in every feature. “S-sometimes…”

She thinks about saying bless you in advance but decides instead to just wait for him to succumb to it. A flicker of lashes, a reveal of the very tips of canines, his entire face crinkles around his visibly twitching nose. It pulls him downward and then forward in that order, as he collapses into a crooked arm as if stumbling despite being seated.

An especially desperate, “hehhSCHOO!” that begins quietly but certainly doesn’t end that way.

“God bless you, Father, again.”

“Wow,” he says with a sniff, knuckles swiping under his nose in a single smooth motion, “Maybe I’m allergic to you. My body’s having a reaction.”

“Is it?”

An eyeroll and a grin, and then he goes back to scratching at his aggravated face in a manner that’s becoming aggressive.

“Well stop manhandling your nose that’s clearly not working.” Before she can think better of it, she takes his elbow to pull the offending arm away from his face. She can feel his muscles tense with the movement, but when she looks up at him there’s only a blurry-eyed smile chased by a nervous huff of a laugh. Another line she can’t uncross but doesn’t particularly want to.

The therapist hadn’t needed to point out that her all-consuming attraction to someone she couldn’t have was probably a healthy coping mechanism of her recently adopted abstinence. She hadn’t really expected this though — for her advances to not be rejected entirely. She hadn’t planned for hope to cease feeling like such a daft, one-sided notion.

“Should I even be blessing you or is that overkill? Or am I even qualified to bless you? Can one bless a priest if they’re not like, anointed or something?”

“You can bless me,” he confirms, looking like he’s barely got a handle on controlling his own eyebrows. Or lips for that matter. God, that mouth, those lips. Parting by accident the way she’d like to make them open on purpose.

“Little greedy of you. You’re not blessed enough as is?”

“Neh—neverhurts…” He pitches sidewards with a slurred, tellingly tipsy, “hehh-ESHHyoooo!”

“Bless you…”

“Thank you,” he sniffles with embarrassed necessity, bringing the back of a sleeve to his nose.

“Hold on, I think I have some tissues,” she says as she feels around in her bag in the darkness, “Well, cocktail napkins at least.” Another knuckle brush as she hands them to him. How arousing. How pitifully arousing. She really should come up with ways to hand him things more often.

“Ahh you were holding out on me,” he says, and then after a gentle blow, “Sorry.”

“You are coming down with something aren’t you?"

He thinks about it, bringing the napkin away from his nostrils with a final follow-up dab. “I dunno, maybe?”

“Do you feel ill?”

“Mostly just very itchy.”

How many other chances will she get… She reaches a hand to gingerly press the back of her fingers against his forehead. He blinks a few times in response, rapidly and reflexively, and swallows back a smile. There’s a burning in her stomach that’s neither pleasant nor unpleasant.

“Um, you feel okay I think?” She says, attention course-corrected back to the cigarette crumbling in her hand, but still glancing at him to measure the aftermath of the relatively bold gesture and they lock smiling eyes in the process.

If he really wanted to ward her off he’s doing a phenomenally shitty job of it. She knows he wants her. God if only that was enough, to know he wanted her.

“I think you’re right I’ve been sent a plague of sneezing. Probably trying to tell me something.”

“Something about how your new friend could take care of you?”

He grins with half of his mouth. “Or something about how I probably shouldn’t be drinking G&Ts in the middle of the night with my new friend who I like a little too much.”

Oh he… really shouldn’t have given her that.

“ExxSHHUE!!” He shakes the whole bench with this, then straightens back up, not looking entirely recovered, and says almost to himself, “And about how I probably shouldn’t tell my new friend that I like them a little too much.”

“But you did anyway and he hasn’t, I dunno, smote you down yet.”

Irritation is still etched into his features, his chest slowly swelling with air, hastily fiddling with the napkins.

“Are you actually going to sneeze again? You haven’t finished?”

He shakes his head as his eyes close and seizes into a rushed, “hehESHHyue!"

“It’s a plague I can’t stop! Snf, it’s out of my hands."

She knows the night’s over, she does. She gets the sense that she’d been invited to overstay her welcome, but it’s getting past that point now. Whenever she leaves after being around him her face hurts from smiling like an idiot the whole time and she comes away aching in more ways than one. That ache is starting already, another sign they’ve stretched this interaction too long once again.

However, alcohol. “If you tell me to leave and you sneeze again perhaps we’ll know whether or not it was divine intervention.”

“He might just be punishing me now anyway,” he sighs, remembering a cigarette he may not have taken a single drag from, neglected and foreshortening in his fingers.

“We haven’t done anything we’re just talking. I’m a—what is it, parishioner?”

“That is a word, yes. Snf! Though it implies someone who’s actually going to church to, you know, practice their faith."

“I’m a parishioner here to…” she’s not even sure what to say, she still doesn’t know shit about Catholicism aside from the fact that it’s a massive cockblock, “seek your… counsel? Guidance? Guidance counseling.”

He puts a hand over part of his face, tired but amused. “You can’t act innocent even when you’re trying your best, can you?"

She almost snorts. Is this what he thinks trying her best looks like?—No, don’t actually say— “Who said I was trying my best?”

Why can’t she stop herself from saying things like that to him? The only thing that’s going to stop her now is a ‘no’ that’s actually firm enough not to give way when she presses against it relentlessly. He honestly needs to just get it over with before he really gives her too much to hold onto. She’s not going to win out over God, the guy’s pretty fucking stiff competition.

Goddamnit, just break her heart already, what the fuck is he waiting for? This should have ended ages ago, and now it’s getting dangerously close to too late.

Was it unfair to assume he’d be stronger than her? Or is he trying to hurt himself too? A duetted exercise in masochism, mutually assured destruc—

“—ESSHHYUE!” He looks at her through wet lashes, bleary and sheepish and drunk and cute and fuck.

She sighs loudly, looks skyward and says, “Right, you’ve made your point! I’m leaving!”

#am i going to include the forehead feeling trope in every fic I ever write? ur goddamn right I am #to be fair I resisted the heightened temperature temptation aaand he’s not technically sick so I’m ‘doing something new’#I’ve done this platonic-but-not dynamic to death and I’ll 100% do it again in the future #i have absolutely no concept of how popular this show is or isn't #but hey hot priest is hot so here ya go #i am not even a little bit catholic but neither is fleabag so no research for meeeee #mongoose writes sometimes

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catracorner962 · 3 years

Text

Karaoke

I promise I can write something that’s pure fluff. See?!

In the newly renovated Fright Zone, the gang is having a party. Catra and Glimmer duet Shaggy. Catra has a surprise. --- AJ Michalka has a phenomenal voice and covers "Warriors" on the SheRa soundtrack. She does this in character as Catra and even says "Hey Adora," at the end, what else did you expect me to do with that except come up with an excuse for Catra to sing this for Adora? I'm sure this has been done before this is just my take. Also whenever I hear "Wasn't Me," or "Angel," by Shaggy I imagine Glimmer and Catra getting drunk and singing it.

Adora brought a hand to her nose, trying to cover her snorting laughter. Besider her Bow swayed in time to the music. Light flashed from above blue and pink.

“HA!!”

Adora couldn’t stop herself, exploding into a fit of giggles, nearly toppling the cocktail in her hand. Nearly sending pink liquid all over her white pants and halter top.

On the stage, her girlfriend and her best friend sang like they hadn’t a care in the world.

“How could I forget that I had given her an extra key? All this time she was standing there she never took her eyes off me!”

Glimmer sang into the mic, her purple leather skirt sparkling in the stage lights.

“Wooow! Yeah Glimmer!” Bow cheered, he took another sip of his beer. More delicately then anyone else around them and probably the only one with a modicum of sobriety left. All around them people sang along, swaying and trying to dance.

“To be a true player you have to know how to play!” Catra sang, winking at Adora from her place on the stage. Her hair had grown out again in the year after the war. Already falling just beyond her shoulders. Adora took a sip of her drink to conceal the blush rising in her cheeks.

“ To be a true player you have to know how to play, if she stay a night, convince her stay a day, Never admit to a word when she say. And if she claim, ah, you tell her, "Baby, no way"

“But she caught me on the counter!” Glimmer’s voice cracked but she kept going,

“It wasn’t me!” Catra leaned forward into the mic.

“Saw me banging on the sofa!” Glimmer laughed, leaning in to meet Catra halfway.

“It wasn’t me!”

“I even had her in the shower!”

“They’re not bad,” Bow admitted whispering in Adora’s ear. The blonde nodded, pulling a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Catra had convinced her to wear it down for once.

“Saw the marks on my shoulder!” Glimmer and Catra sang in unison. Catra unsheathed her claws in flash, winking again, this time a little more suggestively at her girlfriend in the audience. Cheers erupted throughout the bar, an eager welcome Adora thought, her chest warming. To have Catra greeted with rounds of applause rather than boos and hisses and threats.

“ Honey came in and she caught me red-handed, creeping with the girl next door, picture this, we were both butt-naked, banging on the bathroom floor. I had tried to keep her from what she was about to see, why should she believe me when I told her it wasn't me.”

Glimmer and Catra belted through the mic. It was all Adora could do not to transform into Shera. Just the sight of seeing Catra in the limelight, black pants held up by suspenders, her white shirt open just a tad too loose. She took a swig of her whisky mid chorus and continued to sing.

“I have to hand it to Scorpia and Perfuma; they've really done wonders with the Fright Zone,” Bow mused. He clapped along to the music and finished his drink.

“They sure have!” Adora answered, finally turning her attention from the stage. “Glad they were able to renovate the place into a karaoke bar. Somewhere in the distance Mermista’s groan could be heard, Adora turned. Seahawk and the water princess sat at one of the tables, the pirate’s eyes wide with amazement at the flaming martini set down before him.

“Should I….?” Adora made a b-line towards their table. Mermista flunk out her hand, a spray of water dousing the flames.

“Just drink it,” she groaned to Seahawk’s evident dismay. Adora bit back a grin. It had been awhile since they’d been able to just kickback and relax, indulge even. Post-war meant bringing magic to all the galaxy. Which meant traveling around, squashing the last of Prime’s brotherhood. Plus meetings after meetings and much needed reconciliation between Catra, Entrapta, Wrong Hordak, Scorpia and everyone else. It had been trying and difficult and the work was far from finished. But tonight, tonight was a chance to simply let loose.

“Honey came in and she caught me red-handed, creeping with the girl next door, picture this, we were both butt-naked, banging on the bathroom floor. How could I forget that I had, given her an extra key, All this time she was standing there, she never took her eyes off me!!” Glimmer and Catra finished in unison. Again cheers lifted from the crowd. Glimmer bowed, losing her balance until Catra caught her by the arm to steady her and they made their way down the stage.

“Wow, that was...wow,” Scorpia’s face nearly matched the color of her claws. “That was..I don’t think I understood half those words! But uhh next, next...we have...Perfuma! Who I’ve been told is going to do an...an interpretive dance called Ode to Rain, so that will be….uhh….fantastic.” Scorpia laughed nervously but clapped all the same while Perfuma seemingly floated up the stage.

“Hey!” Glimmer greeted Adora with a hug and Bow with a kiss.

“You were great!” Bow put his arm around her waist. “Who knew you and Catra could duet so well together!”

Glimmer laughed, full and hearty, accepting a glass of sparkling wine from Bow.

“Where is Catra?” Adora looked around the crowd. “I thought she came down with you?”

“She said she had to get ready for something,” Glimmer shrugged.

Adora nodded, trying to quell the bubble of anxiety that threatened to rise.

Catra would be fine, she can be left alone. She’s not a child. She’s perfectly capable.

Bodies pressed against Adora in the maylay of the crowd. Talking and drinking and laughing. The lights flashed all around them. Dizzying.

There’s so many people here….what if...there could be….threats. Some clone we forgot?

Someone wanting to take Catra down?

Adora forced herself to breathe, gripping her glass tight.

“Adora, you alright?” Glimmer touched her arm.

“Yes!” She smiled automatically, “I’m great!” She took a breath, eyes flicking upward as Perfuma left the stage.

Still no sign of Catra.

“It’s just...I worry sometimes...I worry about leaving Catra alone sometimes...what if there’s…”

Glimmer opened her mouth to respond when a cool light drifted across the crowd from above to the stage.

“Adora….you might want to…” Glimmer pointed. Adora followed her gaze, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. Silhouetted against the limelight a lone figure stood before the mic. The outline of someone wearing a tight fitting black dress that fanned out toward the bottom. Catra’s tail swished nervously behind her, ears flicking. She stepped forward, the high slit of her dress revealing one leg as she moved. The light illuminating her freckled face, mismatched eyes gleaming.

“Oh my….” Adora took the last sip of her drink. Beside her bow gasped. Even Glimmer’s eyes stared wide with shock. The hub-bub of the crowd died instantly, everyone holding their breath. Even Emily and Entrapta, who were observing in the corner, fell silent.

Catra’s shaky inhale of breath sounded through the mic throughout the bar. Adora waited, stunned. Taking in her girlfriend, the deep V of her dress, the way she shifted her weight. Then finally, after a mini-eternity, Catra’s eyes slipped close and her voice drifted out:

“We're warriors, unstoppable. We feel the evil coming, and shadows all around.”

She sang low and haunting, each word a melodic whisper. Goosebumps rose on Adora’s skin.

“Danger surrounds us, but won't bring us down. We're on the edge of greatness, turning darkness to liiightt,”

Her voice undulated and moved like the waves, the crowd beginning to hum. She opened her eyes, gold and blue sparkling in the light. Catra’s gaze looked through the throngs of people finally meeting Adora’s. The blonde felt her knees shake, she passed her glass to Glimmer without looking away. Catra smiled,

“We're right beside you, ready to fight. We must be strong! And we must be brave! We gotta find every bit of strength that we have and never let it go!”

“Wooo!! Yaaaah!!!” People exclaimed, clapping. Catra’s smile widened, she took the mic from it’s stand, now walking across the stage, tall and proud and brimming with pride. Adora’s cheeks ached, beaming with a smile. She too clapped along.

“We're bound to this struggle, with mighty sword and flame, we'll never fail you, when you call our name.”

She turned, again meeting Adora’s radiant face across the audience. Their eyes met, though Adora could hardly see her through a fog of tears pressing against her eyes. Her heart expanded so fast and full she thought it would explode. Catra too grinned with confidence, revealing pointed fangs. Her eyes dazzled, shoulders lifting as she sang, not once looking away from Adora.

“Together we'll be heroes, joining forces as one. Strong as the steel we carry, we rise like a su...uu...uu...un!”

She hit the note perfectly, the whole bar erupting into ecstatic joy.

“Yeah Horde Scum!” Glimmer fist pumped at the air, jumping up and down. Off to the side of the stage, Perfuma pat Scorpia on the shoulder through her tears.

“That’s my wildcat!”

Catra sang through another round of the chorus, parading back and forth. People reached out from below towards her, laughing and whooping.

“Cause we're warriors, we are unstoppable,nothing's gonna get in our way. We're gonna win in the end….”

Catra sang through the last chorus, coming to stand gracefully before the microphone stand once more.

“We're gonna reach inside, still together and fight and never let it go. We must be strong…” She finished with a flourishing whisper. Looking at Adora from her poised position stage, she blinked, slowly, her own voice cracking with emotion.

“Hey Adora.”

Tears streamed down Adora’s face, her heart hammering in her chest. She could feel herself glowing, transforming, this time brought on by pride and admiration for Catra. Catra who only sang in secret, in dark places, until now. Catra who had always deserved every bit of attention and affection and praise but never got it, until now. Catra who was so guarded who never let herself betray emotion or vulnerability, until now.

There was a white flash, people gasped, and Adora didn’t need to look down at herself to know she’d become Shera.

Catra climbed down from the stage with Scorpia’s assistance and made her way Adora, people parting for her instantly, cheering and clapping.

“Catra! Y...you! You’re…”

Catra’s lips cut off the rest of her sentence, pressing in a full deep kiss, nearly melting against Adora, well, Shera’s chest. Adora put her arms around her girlfriend holding her close, one hand to the small of her back. She had to control herself in public after all, though it was hard to do with her girlfriend looking so...so ravishingly gorgeous, so happy and exuberant. A new round of tears spilled down her cheeks.

“I knew you could sing,” she breathed, breaking the kiss only to press her forehead against Catra’s which required her to lean down a little more in this form. “But not...l...like that.”

Catra laughed, holding Adora’s hand to her face and leaning into her touch. The ruckus of people seemingly disappearing. The only thing that mattered, the center of her universe was already right in front of her.

“I love you,” Catra whispered.

“I love you too, so much.” Adora pulled her in for another kiss, the cheers escalating around them.

Catra rolled her eyes only to be shoved by Glimmer’s arms around her waist.

“Catra, where was that voice when we were singing?! I need to up my game!”

“That...that was beautiful Catra!” Bow wiped his eyes with his yellow jacket. “Absolutely beautiful.”

“Alright, alright Sparkles,” she pulled away from Adora’s hold. “Next time we do Angel by Shaggy I’ll be sure to really sing it with pathos, yeah? And take it easy Arrow Boy your gonna get snot all over your jacket.”

Glimmer only rolled her eyes but gave Catra a kiss on the cheek.

“Well next rounds on me Wildcat!” Scorpia announced happily clapping Catra across the back gently. This time Catra didn’t stiffen or bristle at the touch but smirked. A testament to how far she’d come in such a short time. Adora could hardly contain her emotion.

“You may regret that Scorp.”

The night continued on, Catra changed back into more comfortable pants and dress-shirt. Rogeilo sang...well..grunt roared some prolonged ballad that no one but Lonnie understood. Mermista and Seahawk performed no less than seven shanties. A curtin was set on fire by the third one. Frosta entertained with a series of impressive ice sculptures and Double Trouble, dramatic as they were, impressions that left everyone’s sides sore from laughter. Scorpia closed out the evening, singing a rendition of “Beautiful,” by Christina Aguilera that had everyone, even Catra in tears by the end. Though Catra swore her eyes were she only irritated by the bright lights.

Adora put her arms around Catra from behind, still having advantage of being in her Shera form. Muscular arms holding her girlfriend close in the dark of the crowd while Scorpia, sang her last few notes. Catra swayed in tandem, tail going around her girlfriend’s leg, she leaned her back against Shera’s broad torso and hummed. Adora planted a kiss on the crown of Catra’s head. The mark of the Heart of Etheria glowing against her chest. In the mass of folks and the company of friends, lights glowing and Catra content in her arms, sniffled happily through tears of joy.

They had indeed won in the end.

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buck-nialled · 4 years

Note

idk if i’m doing this right but for the Setting + Trope + Sentence Prompt Game

niall: setting - 1, trope - b, sentence - 14 🤍🤍🤍

NOTE: Thanks for the submission! Click HERE to see all prompts and send your own combo to my inbox!

SETTING: after a near-death experience

TROPE: a big damn kiss

SENTENCE: “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

BANG - N. Horan Imagine

On the rare occasion when your and Niall’s schedule were concurrently wiped, most days consisted of being attached by the hip at his Los Angeles household. Mornings were spent going out together to catch up with friends or admire the belted trousers that hugged Niall’s ass perfectly on the eighteen-hole course he would drag you out of bed to cheer him on at. Nights were reserved with only each other, in the most intimate positions your bodies could lock themselves into. Whether that be a warm bubble bath you prompted Niall to join you in after concluding another delectable dish he had made or heating each other’s bodies with panting breaths and lazy kisses as you entwined your quaking legs together. Catching up on sleep and attaining a healthy number of hours unconscious was also on the agenda, but never failed to collapse once your and Niall’s calendars became clustered again.

When Niall placed a crisp white envelope in your lap and said nothing, a feeling of apprehension consumed your insides. This would be no regular weekend, you thought to yourself.

You picked up the envelope to inspect the front and back for any writing but came back unsuccessful. “What is this?” You rose a brow in suspicion for what the contents inside could be. Niall’s impatience revealed itself as he sat beside you on the couch and bounced his knee in a furious rhythm, mumbling to “open it.” You giggled, noticing how hard he was trying to keep his lips in a firm line to hide his smile and knew the answer to your question could only be good.

“Hurry, the suspense is killing me.” You wasted no extra time dwindling and ripped the seal to the envelope. You pulled the lip of it open and gasped at the thick rectangles sitting at the bottom. Plane tickets, you think to yourself. After you had retrieved them from the bottom with a racing heart, only one question rattled around your head: what adventure did your boyfriend have planned this time? You skimmed over the flight information on the ticket, but Niall had the answer before your eyes could locate one.

“They’re for Ireland.” You set the tickets on your lap and focused your eyes on his. His hand blindly searched for yours to embrace. The feeling of his calloused thumb trailed on the skin of your hand while he continued his explanation. “Figured it was time for you to finally meet my family and friends back home. We both have the next few weeks off together and I know that’s rare, so I thought there was no better time than now.”

The promise to fly you down to his hometown had been brought up many times in conversation. He just had the opportunity to share dinner with your family months before and had been reminding himself to return the favor. You assured him it would be okay for him to not uphold his end of the bargain temporarily, since escaping your occupations for over a week and at the same time seemed inevitable. But the man was adamant, and now that he had finally been gifted the wish of taking you down to the place he grew up, there was no chance he was letting the possibility pass him by.

Niall does not think there was anything more gratifying than when he made you smile. Your arms locked around his neck tighter than they ever had as you squealed excitedly against the skin of his shoulder. Though the two of you still stood over five thousand miles from Mullingar, a sense of being home coated his insides as he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. He noted how your hair smelled like home too, and your skin was soft like the childhood blanket still sitting on the bed at his mother’s house. He realized then, bringing his two homes together would be a feeling unlike any other. It was one he couldn’t wait to experience.

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

Possibly one of the cutest sights was Niall’s smile acting like a beacon as he led you around to all of the famous sites Mullingar had to offer. Granted, half of them consisted of his favorite pubs, but the shimmer of his eyes as he spoke of each one made you giddy inside. When he knocked on his mother’s door with shuffling feet, you prepared to let go of his hand when you imagined all of the embraces he would be engaged in moments following. But you were caught by surprise when you received the first hug out of both of you, from the short blonde woman who could only match Niall’s description of his mother. As you were brought down to her height to return the welcoming hold, the familiar laughter of your boyfriend sounded behind you when his mother mouthed excitedly to him: “this is the girl! she’s so pretty!”

Even more endearing than Maura showing you baby photos of Niall and cooking what Niall informed her was your favorite meal, was your boyfriend performing actions just as charming for you. Being foreign to the country and Niall’s vast knowledge of growing up there only equated to him bundling you up in every jacket and sweater you packed before entering the cold. He would spend nights making you cups of hot cocoa or tea Maura had stocked up in the cabinets and cuddle you on the sofa. A warm blanket, fresh from the dryer, would be sprawled out on your laps as he played you some of his favorite shoes and movies from when he was younger.

When the day to introduce you to his "buds" arrived, you both agreed to meet up with them at a pub near Niall's house later in the evening

The shattering of a beer bottle and crossed, accented shouts were all it took for the night to go downhill. Ireland’s alcohol was phenomenal, Niall informed you a few weeks before your flight, but some people can’t control their emotions when intoxicated. You always heard the expression of drunk words being sober thoughts. But you could process none of what these men around you were spitting, as their voices were too slurred and heavy to be understood. You ducked and tried scuttling around the altercation in hopes of spotting Niall in the crowd. His comforting form remained beside you for the last twenty minutes, introducing you to all of his friends and chatting before all of them dispersed, including Niall. He only promised it would be for a quick trip to the restroom and he would be all yours for the rest of the night. However, the dim lighting and escalating violence nearby proved his sudden absence very poor in timing.

“Niall! Ni!” You shouted, drawing a few heads your way. Everybody in his hometown knew the name. Hell, everybody in Ireland recognized the five-letter, top-charting musician’s title. You were unfazed by the glances spared in your direction and continued your efforts in working your way through the dancing, chattering swarm of people. The shouting only increased in volume, passing the music playing over the bar’s speakers and a football match on the television. You turned your head back around to find you had made little to no progress in escaping the quarrel when the bartender tried separating the two, snapping figures. Pauses began taking place in between their unintelligible threats, and when the worker attempted to interrupt the fight and declare to call the police, a long silence filled the room. You, along with many other patrons of the pub let out breaths of relief and prepared for the night to carry on, tension-free. As you spun around, one of the men now behind you muttered something and you froze in place when you heard the unmistakable click.

The gunshot reverberated through the walls of the vicinity and made your ears ring. Another followed before you had time to turn around. People were trampling over one another to evacuate the building with petrified screams. You, though, ran the opposite direction and toward the restrooms where (you hoped) your boyfriend was located. Booming stomps sounded on the hardwood flooring of the pub during your scramble to the swinging doors in the back, but louder ones drew closer to you. As your palm made contact with the sticky, cold texture of the painted door the feeling of hard metal halted you in your position.

“Not so fast, birdy. I can’t have any witnesses.” His grating voice slurred. On instinct, you removed your hand from the door and rose your other to match its height.

“P-please,” you whispered, tears brimming your eyes. By now, you prayed Niall had exited with the rest of the patrons to safety. “Please don’t.”

“Ah, an American bird! What’re ye doin’ here all alone?” Trembles overcame your body without permission. Hot tears started slithering down your face as you remained focused on the restroom door.

“You’re right,” he speaks again after a few moments of silence. “I don’t need to know,” he laughs boisterously. “Hell,” he hiccups, “you won’t even be able to tell me in a few se—“

“Police!” More stomping echoed around the barren pub. “Sir, drop your weapon and put your hands up. Now!” A man barked. You remained unmoving with shattered breaths. A clatter of the gun never sounded, and you squeezed your eyes impossibly tight once your inevitable demise continued digging into the back of your scalp.

“Sir, I won’t ask you again. Drop the weapon.” Your eyes opened. Now concentrated on the silver bolted plate flush on the door, you studied its reflection. The man turned his head as to scowl at the officers.

“We won’t hesitate to shoot.” Another spoke, readying his weapon.

“Neither will I.” The drunkard replied, never taking his eyes off of the men in uniform. It was then you took the opportunity to whirl your body around and snatch the gun from the man’s hold. His grip was tight on the weapon and only allowed limited maneuvering of the firearm. Losing no more time to fulfill his threat, the man’s finger laid pressure on the trigger. Another gunshot sounded through the building. But you felt this one inside of you, damaging your middle as you clutched your stomach desperate in attempts to claw the bullet out yourself. You lost your footing and stumbled back against the restroom door. Your mouth hung agape when the man lifted it to his head and allowed you the sight of his end. One final BANG resounded, before the officers scattered about the room. One called for more ambulances and medics on the scene into the walkie talkie clipped on his collar.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” You nod, stunned by all you had witnessed and remembered the initial reason for your run away to the back of the bar.

“M-my boyfriend. He’s—bathroom.” You stammer, trying to twist your body in attempts of entering the restroom yourself but elicit a pained wail instead.

“We’ll search this whole building for any others but it seems like you two were the only ones in here. Right now, we’re gonna get you out of here okay?” The feeling of drowsiness overcomes you, the pain in your stomach ceaseless but becoming tolerable once fight or flight takes over. Medics enter the scene and you feel like you are floating when they assist you onto the gurney. Removing your red-stained hands from the wound once instructed by the emergency care team is the last focused sight you recall having. Their overlapping chatter and cool, Ireland air biting at your skin wade you off into the darkness. But through it, you swear you can hear Niall’s voice, soothing your every qualm and ache.

“I’m going to take care of you, okay petal? It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take care of you. It’ll be okay.”

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

The bright fluorescence scorched your eyelids and elicited a hoarse moan from your throat. Niall, who sat in a chair beside the white bed and your figure adorned in a baby blue gown added pressure to your laced hands. Watching you be pulled away from his side for emergency surgery and observe your unconscious body the last five hours on a bed, with the fear you would somehow flatline nearly drove the man to insanity. He felt idiotic and a lack of chivalry within him when he sped from the bathroom by the sound of gunshots and assumed you would already be waiting outside for him with open arms. His mother’s visit to see him and wait for a few hours while you slept did little to ease his gnawing teeth against his lip and fingernails, and his restless leg.

“Petal, are you awake?” Niall’s gruff voice and a squeeze of your hand is all the incentive necessary for your eyelids to peel themselves open. Your eyes adjusted to the harsh light, and as you bring your un-held hand upwards to stretch, pain shot straight to your core and made you curl into yourself.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that.” Niall stands from his set and feels the blood rushing down to his legs and feet. He endures the pins and needles as he waddles over to your injured person and brushes the hair away from your face. “Love, you gave me such a scare.”

“I’m sorry—“

“You shouldn’t be apologizing. I was stupid to not find you first before I left to go outside. The officers said you were lookin’ for me and found you by the restrooms…” He says in question, earning a meek nod from you in reply. “Why didn’t ya just book it?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” The feeble squeak followed by a slap of Niall’s palm against his chest. A feeling like no other pained his heart as he stared down at you.

“Love, if anything like that happens again you have my full permission to leave me there. Have you ever seen me play hide ‘n seek? I would’ve made it out of there fine, trust me.” His comment leaves you in a fit of giggles before a vicious hiss passes through your teeth. One of your hands, adorning an IV went to clutch your stomach with your other palm.

“Oh yeah, the doctor told me earlier you should try and keep your laughing to a minimum. Your stitches might pop if you don’t.”

“That won’t be so hard with you as my housemate.” The genuine tone laced in your worlds cued Niall’s lips to quirk down instantly. He brought his face closer to yours, cupping a cheek in one of his hands as he gazed deeply into your eyes with a devious twinkle in his pupils.

“If I could, I would tickle you so hard right now. But you’re injured so I’m going to give you a damn big kiss instead.” His lips were planted on yours seconds after, leaving no room to reply as he fulfilled his promise. Loosely, you clutched his biceps adorning a long-sleeved t-shirt and sighed blissfully into his mouth. The ache of your stitched stomach no longer mattered. Niall’s devoting words and warm lips could numb any bullet that struck you.

#Niall horan #Niall James horan #Niall horan imagine #niall horan oneshot #niall horan blurb #Niall horan imagines #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan angst #niall horan story #nh #njh #niallhoran #nialljameshoran #niall horan x reader #one direction

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jacaranda-bloom · 3 years

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December Fic Rec

With this month being busier than most I didn’t get to read as many new fics as I would’ve liked, but that just means more for next month! (I also found that I’d misplaced my writing mojo and so I re-read quite a lot of my own stories to try and find it again - oops - if anyone has seen it, let me know!)

In this instalment, there are fics from @kingsofeverything @soldouthaz @rbbsbb @phd-mama @becomeawendybird @ham-palpert @sadaveniren and @tommosgun.

Thank you to all the writers for sharing their wonderful talent with us. Please don’t forget to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoy their work. 💜

New Reads

💜 The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea | @kingsofeverything | E | 110k | Dec 2020 | older harry/louis, surfers, sexuality crisis, married louis, louis cheats (not on harry), lifeguards, surfing, first times, happy ending, smut | HOLY SHIT! This fic... goddamnit. I watched as each new chapter of this WIP was posted with sweaty palms because I know myself well enough to understand that I needed to wait until it was complete. When it was finally done, I set aside a whole day, and then very nearly inhaled this absolutely phenomenal work of art. I just wanted to crawl inside this fic and could have easily read another 100k, although it’s beyond perfect just as it is. The fic is so well written and the emotions and struggles these characters face are so raw and so real that it really resonated with me. I truly can’t recommend this story highly enough.

💜 Smoke Between Your Teeth | @soldouthaz | E | 37k | Dec 2020 | uni au, roommates, best friends to lovers, smoking, minor allusions to addiction, lots of oral sex, smut | I absolutely adored this fic. Funny and heartwarming and sweet and all the good things that always come with everything this author puts out there. There are some phenomenal lines in this fic; “Filling in each other’s blanks” was one that really hit home, but there are far too many to mention here. The story is inventive and unexpected and brilliantly written as is par for the course with this amazing writer.

💜 Just Fuck | @rbbsbb | E | 6k | Oct 2019 | a/b/o, alpha harry, omega louis, drunk sex, friends with benefits, scenting, knotting, pwp, smut | I mean... the title kind of says it all really. Super hot, really well written.

💜 What A Difference A Day Makes | @phd-mama | M | 4k | Dec 2020 | collage au, frat boy harry, enemies to lovers, smut | Fantastic banter, super hot, brilliant turns of phrase. Loved every word of this delectable delight.

💜 Leave Me Out | @becomeawendybird | E | 4k | Dec 2020 | pwp, established relationship, post-canon, exhibitionism, light dom/sub, service kink, FIFA, smut (check tags) | Scorching hot, great writing style. Loved the way the other boys were involved in the whole process - really unique.

Re-Reads

💜 Where You Lay | @ham-palpert | E | 86k | Feb 2018 | a/b/o, alpha harry, omega louis, friends with benefits, scenting, knotting, heat, pining, jealousy, miscommunication, smut | I hadn’t read this fic for a while and honestly, what the hell was I doing? It’s so fucking good. The writing is exemplary, every word on the page furthers the story and adds to the complex tapestry this writer weaves. The smut is some of the hottest a/b/o I’ve read and let me tell you, I’ve read a LOT of a/b/o fics. I definitely won’t waiting as long between reads again.

💜 Tastes Like Strawberries | @sadaveniren | E | 5k | June 2020 | a/b/o, alpha harry, omega louis, nesting, heat, sharing a bed, smut | I was scrolling through a fic list and saw this fic. Remembering how much I’d liked it, I cracked it open for another read and I was not disappointed, although I never am with this amazing author! Great premise, perfectly executed. Funny, hot, sweet, hot, cute. Did I mention hot?

💜 Soul Wiped Clean | @tommosgun | M | 91k | Aug 2015 | friends to lovers, ex-con louis, journalist harry, fears, anxieties, first time, jealousy, smut | Yes. Again. Because I’m a fucking fool for this fic, okay? There are just some moods I get in where I want comfort and this fic does it for me every, single, time. I love the way the story unfolds, the characters, the setting, the love and fluff and humour and vulnerability and strength, just all of it. Sighs.

#December 29 2020 #fic recs #ficrectag

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blonde-toddy · 3 years

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Random and Not So Random thoughts while watching Bridgerton: Season 1, Episode 4

Oh they're at court.

Also she's not a commoner. She's the daughter of a Viscount.

Another Daphne brag moment, but homegirl really got the juice. She's bagging mfs over hand holding and dancing.

Violet dgaf. She's hungry now, damn it!

Oh he's buying jewelry already.

Ooooooh the way she imagines the Duke behind her. Honey yes. That scene was hot.

Too bad she came back to reality.

Hyacinth is my spirit animal.

Lady Whistledown ain't ready to write Simon off yet. She's waiting on the Dukes Hail Mary.

Shit. So am I.

I have never seen someone look so depressed in such an exquisite piece of jewelry. It's like the necklace chokes her. Testament to the acting and script for that though. It truly represents a trap.

Awww Simon is wearing that heavy bag out. I would say poor Simon, but he made this damn bed.

I love Alice and Will. They are the kind of wholesome love I need to keep my heart steady watching this damn show. She's his rider and I love it.

Alice roasting Simon over Daphne. Get. Yo. Girl. Mane.

I always cringe when a man tells a woman to smile.

Poor Marina. Portia is determined to find her the oldest mf. She's playing smart though.

Those damn dingbat sisters.

Maybe Penelope does care.

Well at least the least mean sister got a caller. They're awkward/cute.

Eloise girl, I love feathers in hair. Your one dimensional preaching is wearing me out again.

A boxing match date? I'd be down.

The prince legit seems like a nice guy. And Daphne is trying....but she's CLEARLY hung up on Simon.

Oh look Simon's losing focus on his friend because he's too focused on Daphne and the prince.

Ok mf! Take that shit off and roll them sleeves up. It turns me on too sis!

Oh look at the sweet family talk with the prince. Girl he'd give you any and everything you wanted.

But you and the Duke are just ATE TF UP about each other!

Mondrich for the win!!!!

Oh Benny. You've got a new friend. But what kind of friend? Give me more of this.

Well Anthony is smug and pleased as punch. Simons courtship of Daphne has ended. She has her perfect suitor. And Simon is leaving England to go rake and fuckboy about.

Though Simons hard slammed shot when the prince approached says he's anything but happy.

Violet always worries about the wrong shit.

Hyacinth always wants to know the good shit.

Be Hyacinth.

Oh fuck the prince is ready to propose. That shit escalated quickly.

SIMON!!!!!! Now would be a good time for that Hail Mary.

Good job Anthony. Way to realize that the women in your life have agency over THEMSELVES.

Violet always beating around the damn bush.....but she is still 100% #teamduke

Aw Daphne you're gonna break down snitching on yourself.

If it wasn't real with Simon you wouldn't be so ate up about it, and you would be rocking tf out of that necklace from the prince instead of crying.

There's a reason for the black in her outfit. For Daphne, who is normally all pastel blues, that black is her mourning. It's her 'attempting' to put to death her feelings for the Duke. And also I think mourning the loss if the bond they shared. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. But this seems like a very deliberate show with it's details.

Danbury ripping Simon open before she sends him off. Big energy.

She knows everything you thick headed mf. Why won't you just listen?! You letting your rank ass daddy live rent free in your soul.

He's so jaded it hurts.

Ayyyye this Trowbridge party looks like the real deal.

Oh gawd. Marina and the old man.

Mr. Finch and the cheese frock. Jesus who wrote this. I love it

Cressida you have been Daphnes biggest hater all season and now you're mad that she's with the prince. He was never gonna marry yo basket headed ass anyway.

Oooooh shit Simon sees the 'intimate painting' and has 2nd thoughts.

Go. Get. Yo. Girl.......Bitch.

Ooooh Benny's at the new homies spot and it's lit!

Naked models, easels, mingling between the classes. Yes indeed.

2nd sons having fun. Hell yes.

Damn Even Sienna at the ball...as a performer of course.

And Anthony looking tongue tied.

Violet....you need to chill. There take another sip.

Portia trying to shade Lady Trowbridges style is comical. Both of y'all bitches gaudy as hell.

Oh shit Phillipa lost her man.

Wtf is wrong with Lord Featherington?

And wtf are you doing Eloise?

Ayyye she just let her have it. You think servants have the time to be Lady Whistledown? I'm dead.

"Get out."

Ok Penelope with your saucy ass.

Well fuck! You just pushed him right to Marina. You played yourself boo.

Oooh the prince is about to shoot the big shot and Daphne keeps running away.

She done spotted Simon. Its over.

Fuck off Cressida.

Rip that mf necklace off girl.

Simon followed her ass outside.

"Miss Bridgerton." Motherfucker, call her Daphne.

"I came to say goodbye." Man. Go to hell.

Daphne serving those barbs. You not ready to keep playing with her.

Damn, Simon. If you're not gonna give her what she wants, get out the way.

Tell his ass sis.....even if you don't believe it yourself.

Really Simon? You stand there quiet as a mf church mouse whiles she's pleading with you to say something.....then you take off after her once she walks away from your shit

I swear.....men.....yall mfs really do shit like this. Speak up! Or...LET. ME. GO.

She's really cracking on his ass and I'm here for it....but wtf us up with his "I forbid you." Who tf are you to me? I'm glad she ain't playing with his ass.

Ooooh he called her Daphne and grabbed her.

Oh honey this is what fulfillment feels like, isn't it?

He's definitely fulFILLing her all the way up!

Oh shit Anthony caught them.

At least he finally landed some decent blows on Simon.

This RAKE ass mf still won't marry her.

Oh Simon.....for once.....Anthony is in the right and you the wrong. You are really about to die over your fucking daddy issues. Boy bye. Again.

Poor Daphne.

Wait, how did Cressida know she was in the garden?

That can't be good.

At least Benny is having a good time.

Dearest Portia, when you go looking for shit, it usually falls in your lap.

Marina keeps carrying on about Colin and Penelope is crushed.....or scheming....or both.

Aww Penelope let her hurt feelings cause a fight with her bestie. Her jealousy is seething.

Daphne still out here having to educate Anthony....though I get the need for the duel. And he still thinks he's running something.

Ooooh this is why they brought up 2nd sons.....Anthony is prepping Benny to take over. Well Benny, at least you had one good night out.

Colin caring for drunk Violet is parenting goals one day.

Oh great, now yall wanna bring Colin into the shit.

Simon raiding Wills spot for booze was so uneccesarily loud.

So Berbrooke alludes to her dishonor and Simon caves his fucking head in. Simon legit dishonors her and he's just like ,"Kay, guess I'll go get shot now." Someone get this man some therapy.

Oh great Anthony is back at Siennas door with more of his bullshit. Girl. Close that door.

No, not after you've let him in and climbed his torso. I guess y'all fuckin again.

He lost all the money and now he's fucked up.

Her face while he cried, is literally the face of every woman sick of a mediocre man's shit.

Oooh now they're all riding off into battle like the fucking idiots they are.

Colin is so pure.

I knew that Cressida shit would come back.

Well at least Anthony was willing to care for Sienna in his death....but damn mf, treat me right while WE'RE here.

Oh the dramatics of drawing a gun.

Nobody is here for Simon's weak ass apologies and I'm okay with that.

Hurry hurry Daphne.

Daphne down....but she's alright.

Call them idiots just like they are.

Simon still being a hoe about this shit. You really about let her be ostracized because you're a fuck boy.

Ultimate fuck boy line...I can't be with you because I love you too much. Fucking hell.

They do obviously love each other though.

Hold up.......you CAN NEVER, or WILL NEVER give her children. Don't play this like you have a reproductive issue.

So your reason for not marrying her is that you "can never" give her children and you know that's what her heart desires.

You playing with fire, Simon.

I wonder how much shit I let slide with his character just because he's portrayed so well by the phenomenal Regé-Jean Page.

No, I do love Simon's damaged ass. He just makes me so mad.

So the duel resumes......or not.

Daphne said, "Fuck them kids, give me my husband." Or something like that.

Well. This us an uncomfortable arrangement even though both of these idiots are in love.

Simon's evasion will most certainly come back to bite him in the ass.

But I'll be here with my popcorn and tissue, rooting for these cool kids to make it!

#bridgerton #bridgerton reaction #bridgerton season 1 #simon x daphne #daphne x simon #lady danbury #the duke of hastings #daphne bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #penelope featherington #marina thompson #portia featherington #will mondrich #violet bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton

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boymeetsmxm · 4 years

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AUGUST 2020 | #3

Every month, we ask our reader members to rec us some BTS works they’ve enjoyed. The works can come from any source (AO3, Tumblr, Twitter, Wattpad, etc.), can be either a fanfic or a SM AUs, and don’t have to be from our own writer members. We’ve compiled this month’s recs in this list; Happy browsing!

SFW | Fanfic

Acclimatization by peonyswamp

college au | roommates au | oneshot

Summary: Acclimatization or acclimatisation is the process in which an individual organism adjusts to a change in its environment.In which an individual organism is a sometimes grumpy university student and his environment involves a new roommate, a dog barking all night and other terrifying ordeals.

@taerseok said: Okay,,, this fic was absolutely everything and i love the dynamic between sope. it's so cute (mickey stole my heart in this one) and adorable and i was laughing pretty much every time i read the next dialogue. it was so so sweet at the end and for a second i almost expected an angsty ending which i wasn't ready for but then they confessed and i felt so relieved??? the dialogues are top-notch, the characterization is chefskiss, and the plot is just perfect. it's a great story to read when you want something to cheer you up!

NSFW | Fanfic

Chemical X by jvante

fluff | smut | humor | angst | oneshot

Summary: Jeongguk signs up for cooking classes and meets the love of his life. Seokjin teaches cooking classes and meets his mortal enemy.

@joopiterjoon said: This is a feelgood fic. If you are having a bad day, a sad day, a lonely day, read this fic. The friendships are chaotic, the love is silly. Jungkook has the fattest crush with terrible metaphors and he ruins so much food you won't get hungry reading about cooking. Jin has the sass and the class. Vmin are the best worst friends we've all had. It had me lol'ing the whole time.

forever rain by kimlinebiased

Summary: Namjoon made a big mistake six months ago and has been hiding from the confrontation he knew would result. The rain can’t hide him forever.

@httpangelicjimin said: i found this gem when i should've already been asleep. what draw me in where how beautifully the first few lines were written. i got so emerged in the story and with plot that i couldn't contain myself. i would love to see a second part of this~ oh, and i recommend that you read it while listening to forever rain. you will cry a lot like i did but smile in the end. The rain had finally stopped.

how to talk to other humans (and other valuable life skills) by drawingspaces

fluff | smut | angst | single parent au | completed series

Summary: If love is a word, let it be a song. People rarely get a second chance at growing up. Somehow, Jeongguk lucks out.

@hoeuseok said: taekook meet as a student/prof but their relationship doesn’t start until well after that’s over but just in case that makes any one uncomfortable, series. tbh i didn’t know how i’d feel about single dad jungkook but wow did this author pull it off. the characters and their growth in this fic are so beautiful. jungkook trying his absolute best to be a good dad and feeling like he’s falling short and taehyungs endless patience and understanding through it all. just phenomenal writing. this fic wrapped me in a warm blanket and told me it loved me and my flaws.

i like us like this by tendershipping

Summary: Camboy Jimin’s usual playmate cancels on him for an upcoming livestream. Roommate Taehyung volunteers as tribute.

@joopiterjoon said: Jimin needs a sub (pun intended) for his camboy anniversary filming. Best friend Taehyung jumps in to save the day and so much more. I LOVE this series for so much more than the smut. The author focuses a lot on the bond creation and responsibility of a dom even though this is told from the sub (Taehyung's) perspective. There is such a strong emotional connection between these two that is only amplified by the discussions of safety and trust exercises, and the descriptions of Taehyung enjoying being a sub are written so naturally. This is really soft despite the plot content!

kiss me hard before you go by 77735

childhood friends to lovers | roommates | fluff | oneshot

Summary: yoongi and hoseok are childhood friends who live in a terrible apartment with min holly. they are also in love with each other. and bad at context clues.

@j-sope said: listen. hear me out. i wasn't gonna read a sope fic this month because i wanna explore other pairings more. BUT. this fic. i'm crying first of all the flow of it is insane, repeating certain words here and there is just wow (okay i'm seeing it implemented for the first time now and roy peter clark would probably scold me but it was genius). you sort of just fall in love with their friendship and their shitty apartment from the very beginning and THEN of course the fact that they're in love but are being total dumbasses. okay why am i spoiling the fic lmao, the point is. there's not much more than kissing going on for the most part but it feels like the most intense, wonderful, beautiful thing and i'm here for it okay. i love sope so much (and yoongi you perfect dumbass hobi would never leave you istg) i did feel like crying at one point which just shows that it's a good fic. you feel stuff. and you also smile like a dork the whole time, like i did. 10/10 would recommend (also ot7 moments are hilarious as always) ahhhh i love them!

Shipwreck by Anonymus

angst | fluff | smut | completed series

Summary: Taehyung is a scientist who goes to one of the last remaining forests that have werewolves hoping to study them and understand their morphology to better medicines for humans in the city. Alternatively, Taehyung loves his job but falls in love with Jungkook, the heir of the largest remaining werewolf clan.

@absoluteyoongit said: This fic is tarzan meets werewolves. I love this taekook fic and how two opposites slowly fall in love with each other. Plus I am a sucker for werewolf/mate type stories and this one just makes me so happy

SFW | SM AU

None this month

NSFW | SM AU

Dick Picturesque by pornographicpenguin

smut | angst | multi-chapter

Summary: youre pretty cute tho also why were u sendin some dude who u never texted before nudes that’s like a really bad idea u shold be smarter i’m drunk

@megahwn said: I go back to this smau ALL the time, it's so raw and real and reminds me of deep conversations I've had with strangers in my own lifetime. The banter is funny, the smut is sexy and sweet at the same time, and the ending is so satisfying to read. 10/10 would recommend!

#bts fic #bts fanfiction #mxm #sope #yoonseok #jinkook #taekook #vmin #namgi #namseok #bts #official post #readers reading list

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soheila-1996 · 4 years

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My story- part two

Hi! Thank you all so much for all the lovely comments and support I got on the first part! It made me wanna write a second!

My little disclaimer:

I have epilepsy. This details my seizures, I can’t speak for everyone, everyone’s seizures/ experiences are different. This is graphic. Seizures are messy. They aren’t fun and it felt wrong to make it out to be cute when they really aren’t. Pretty much all the things that happen in the plot have happened to me. Well, I’m not married to a king or live in a palace so…there’s that but everything else is accurate. There may be some jokes about it here because I do joke about it sometimes. It makes me more comfortable and I find it helps relax everyone around me. I’m also writing about it because there really aren’t that many fics written about it and I think it’s important to shine light on it.

Any feedback would be really appreciated! :)

Tagging people who shared the first part. You don’t have to read it! I just thought you might want to see what happens: @kacie-0156, @texaskitten30, @cordonianroyalty, @kingliam2019, @bebepac, @kingliam-rys, @cordonia-gothqueen, @kimmiedoo5, @bbrandy2002, @loveellamae, @bobasheebaby

This is also part of wacky drabbles hosted by @emceesynonymroll. The prompt this week is: #38: Please don’t leave.

Paring: Liam and Riley

Warnings: Blood, hospital setting.

Word count: 5261

(Riley’s POV)

I woke up the next morning sore. Everywhere was achy. My tongue felt like it had been speared, I hadn't really noticed it the night before. I was so tired and still a little ‘seizure drunk’ that I hadn't realised.

I’m in my bed but I can’t remember coming to bed the night before. The last thing I remember is coming back to the apartment and explaining to everyone about my epilepsy then we decided to put a movie on- I must have fallen asleep and Liam probably had carried me to bed.

I really don’t deserve him.

I turned over to be met with empty cold sheets. His side of the bed was unmade so he had slept here but he was nowhere in sight. He was probably still mad. I don’t blame him. I'd be a little pissed had I just found out he had a serious medical condition that he never told me about.

I hate talking about it. I don't understand why though. It’s not something I can control or should be ashamed of but in a way I am. I’ve always longed to be normal and before last night everyone thought that I was and I, if i'm being honest, loved it. I revelled in being like everyone else for once.

I turned back onto my back, throwing my head back against the pillow as I let out a drawn out sigh. I feel like I’ve messed everything up. It’s like I’m back when I messed everything up with Tom, my ex, he found out about my epilepsy and left. I had a seizure in front of Ben, another ex, my high school crush, and like Tom, he left after saying some pretty disgusting things to me. I know that my seizures aren't pretty, I know they're scary but I have no control over them. If I had it my way I wouldn't have them.

Jacob- my last boyfriend before Liam, he wasnt as ignorant as the last two. He tried to be there for me like a normal boyfriend but he just couldn't seem to let it go. He was constantly on edge that I'd have a fit. Eventually, it got too much for the both of us and so our relationship came to an end. Now, I’m scared of what’s going to happen with Liam. I don't want to lose him. I love him more than I've ever loved anyone.

I’m just hoping we can find a way to move forward. Together.

A few minutes went by before I decided to throw the comforter off of me and get out of the bed. I winced slightly as I stood. I had forgotten how much my muscles always ache after a seizure. It’s horrible. All of it is horrible.

I opened the bedroom door after taking down my robe off the back then padded toward the kitchen. I lingered outside of the half-closed door when I heard Liam’s voice coming from inside.

“...That’s not the point Drake. The point is what if she had a seizure and no one was there or knew about it? What if she does have one and she’s alone? What if her stubborn nature comes out and she doesn't tell anyone when she’s not feeling well?”

I felt my heart sink down into my stomach. Liam is stressed anyway and I've just added to it. I feel terrible, physically and mentally. He doesn't need to constantly worry about me. I don’t want him to constantly worry about me, he’s my husband not my carer.

I needed to face the music so to speak so I pushed the door fully open. The squeaking of the door opening got both men's attention. It wasn’t until I was fully in the room I realised, Hana and Maxwell were also here too.

Everyone looked at me expectantly, “Liam, all I can do is tell you that I’ll be honest. I’ll tell someone when I'm not feeling well. I know you have no reason to trust me after the stunt I pulled last night but...I’m still the same person I was before last night. Please, please don’t treat me differently,” I’m pleading with him and my friends now although I know I don't really have a right to ask for anything not after all the chaos I’ve caused.

Liam and I briefly locked eyes. Liam sighed and opened his arms. “Come here.”

I didn't hesitate to walk into his embrace. I clung tightly to him. I’m scared and he’s the only thing that ever makes me feel safe. Like everything will be okay.

I felt him wrap his arms around me tighter and place a kiss on the top of my head. “You really scared me last night, Ri,” Liam told me quietly, “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He pecked my head again as he let me go and stepped back.I looked up to him and gave him a reassuring smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” I nodded, he raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m a bit sore but that’s normal.” Liam nodded. I understood his concerns about me not telling him about how I'm really feeling. I just have always found it difficult to be honest about it.

A few moments of awkward silence went by. No one knows what to say, I don’t know what to say or how we go from here. There’s no guide on what to do when your wife of two years drops an epilepsy bombshell.

Drake finally broke the silence, “His Majesty over here was just bragging about how, he, in his own words ‘make the best pancakes.’ We were just about to put that to the test, weren’t we Li? Before Brooks interrupted.”

I saw Liam’s eyebrows crease as he looked to his oldest friend. Drake shot him a look enough to tell him to just go along with it.

Liam smiled, it was his fake, forced one. I could always tell, his real one always showed his pearly white teeth and reached his eyes. This one his lips were in a tight line and his eyes didn't twinkle.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

I, of course, knew it was a cover but I was thankful for Drake’s distraction. Drake and I sat down on one side of the table and Maxwell and Hana on the other as Liam got started on mixing together the ingredients.

A little while later, we all had our own plates full with pancakes. We all dug in silently. It was awkward, not a comfortable silence at all.

I placed my fork down just as everyone else was just finishing there’s. I hadn’t finished all of mine, when I chewed the cut on the side of my tongue brushed painfully up against my teeth.

“Guys…,” I started but was promptly cut off by Maxwell. I could tell last night that he was hurt I didn’t tell him.

“Just promise us that you’ll tell us when you’re not feeling well next time, Little Blossom.”

“That and take your medication,” I heard Drake mumble from beside me.

“Okay,” I nodded, ignoring Drake’s snarky comment. “I’ll tell one of you.”

“Promise?” Maxwell asked me.

“I promise.”

Maxwell held out his pinky. I promptly wrapped my own little finger around his from across the table. “You can’t break a pinky promise,” Maxwell reiterated.

“I know, Max,” I sighed as I let go of him and placed both my hands back down into my lap.

“We’re all just worried about you,” Hana spoke up. I nodded in understanding. Here comes the pity party. “But we can get through anything together.”

We all stayed there for a little while, each of them reiterating how much they loved and supported me. They were honestly the best group of friends I could ever have asked for. They loved me no matter what and I loved them too.

Later that day, I discovered the surprise Liam had in store was a trip to go to our honeymoon island in a couple weeks time. Our diaries were both packed and that was the only time we could make the trip. Leo and Katie also had headed back to the States that evening.

They had all checked in now and again but not too annoyingly. It had been a bit overboard over the first couple of days but their overprotectiveness was easing off a bit. Thankfully.

I still was having trouble sleeping and not getting enough so I started sometimes having a nap during the day when I had the time to do so. Liam had taken on some of my responsibilities, I hadn't been pleased about that but I needed to sort my sleep out and he was aware that a lack of sleep and stress was a massive trigger for me.

Everything had changed that night but nothing really changed- if that makes sense? For two years my condition had been my dirty little secret and now it was finally out in the open, I was hardly going to go shouting it from any rooftops anytime soon but I felt much closer to everyone. I hadn't realised how much I had been distancing myself.

Liam had taken it better than I had expected. He, of course, was worried but he didn't overwhelm me with it. He asked me questions about it as well as doing research on my type of seizures to try and understand as much as he could. He wasn't like Jacob, he could at times be overbearing with his desire to know everything about my condition.

If I was honest all of my friends had been phenomenal. It was only our tight knit group that knew about it still. I didn't feel a need to announce it to an entire country and so I didn’t.

All in all, I felt better than I had for a long, long time.

I still should have told everyone about it at the beginning but my fear that they’d see me differently, that they’d treat me differently had gotten in the way but they had all proven me wrong time and time again.

It was the day of The Five Kingdoms festival, It had originally meant to have been a few weeks ago but the weather had been appalling so it was rearranged for a day with much nicer, inviting weather. It's the only day of the year that the palace is open to the Cordonian Public so naturally we wanted as many of our citizens as possible to attend.

Liam and I had been gallivanting around the palace grounds, playing games and talking with our people. It was the normalcy that I had always wanted, with a husband who didn't treat me like I’m made of glass.

A little while later, I slipped back inside the palace and headed to the nearest toilet which ended up being in my apartment. I’ve lived here for two years and I still don't know where anything is. I needed to go and couldn't hold it in any more. I had tried to find one of my friends or husband just to let them know in case they needed me but the crowd was massive so it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack so I headed in on my own. It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t need a babysitter.

I had just done what was needed and was standing by the sink, washing my hands when I felt my stomach roll.

Oh no.

I, initially, ignore it. I had been ignoring feeling sick for a little while, I thought it was just because I haven't eaten much today but then my arms started to go numb and I know what’s coming. I’m all alone and I know I won't be able to make it to Liam or one of my friends in time.

“Oh no, no, ” I whispered to myself. I reached into my back pocket in my pants and pulled out my cellphone as I carefully lowered myself down onto the cold, bathroom tiles.

Still sitting up, I unlocked my phone and looked for Drake’s contact. I know Liam doesn't take his phone with him to royal events.

I fumbled with the device, my arm doesn't want to cooperate properly. I hit a contact, I just hope it’s the correct one.

Everything is becoming confusing again. I lie down with the phone beside me. I don’t really remember where I am and why I’m here.

I heard the phone ringing in the distance and Drake’s gruff voice come through on the other end. “Brooks?”

I don’t know what to say, I’m not sure what to say so I don’t talk. “Brooks, are you okay?”

I try to speak but it comes out as a whimper. Why is this happening again?! I took my meds, I followed the rules!

Drake’s tone changed, “Brooks, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

It takes more effort than it should but I manage to get out a jumbled sentence, “I dun’t feel good,” my voice is slurred, I’m talking like a child.

I vaguely hear Drake curse. “Okay...Where are you?” He sounds out of breath to me.

I looked around me. I’m not sure where I am.

Am I on the ceiling?

I don’t understand.

My head fell to the side, no I'm on the floor, I’m sure. It’s cold under my back. I still can't figure it out though.

I can’t think.

I can’t tell Drake where I am!

“I-I don-” I started, my voice is so slurred I don't think Drake can understand me. “S-scared,” I squeaked. That's all I know right now. I’m scared.

“I know. It’s going to be okay.” I don’t remember Drake’s voice being so echoey. “Riley, listen to me...you need to tell me where you are.”

Drake’s not here but I can hear him. How?

I feel myself beginning to gag and I’m sure Drake hears it too because he’s telling me to roll over onto my side. That’s hard. My limbs don't want to cooperate but I manage it and the vile stuff easily flows out of my mouth.

My fear mounts. What’s happening to me?!

I can’t focus on anything, my eyes are darting around the room. It’s making me more dizzy and disoriented but I need to know where I am.

“Li-” I’m trying to talk again but my voice is still jumbled.

“It’s Drake,” he told me. Drake? I don’t understand. It sounds familiar but I can't picture him.

I- Where am I?

I try to move but I can’t. My limbs feel heavy and I don’t have the strength to lift them anymore.

I just want this all to stop!

(Drake POV)

I’m weaving in and out of the crowd around me, my phone still against my ear. Riley’s scared whimpers coming through from the other end. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. Riley is like my sister and she’s scared, in trouble and I don’t know where she is so I can help her. I need to find Liam and I need to find her but I don’t know where either of them are!

I know she’s still conscious, she’s mumbling something incoherent. I’m trying my best to reassure her but I don’t think she understands.

Finally, I found Liam. He’s apple bobbing with someone. I ran over to him, Bastien is standing near him and is the first to notice the panicked look on my face. I walked past Bas and straight to Liam, I tapped him on the shoulder. He immediately stood back up to his full height turning to face me.

“What’s wrong?” He asked me, his eyebrow creased with concern.

“It’s Riley,” I told him. I quickly passed him the phone as we stepped away from the now curious onlookers. “I can’t get her to tell me where she is. I think she's going to have a seizure.” Liam eagerly took the phone out of my hand, putting it immediately to his ear.

(Liam’s POV)

Drake had just handed me his phone telling me that my wife was going to have a seizure and nobody knows where she is!

I can hear her scared whimpers coming through the other end. “Love? Riley, can you hear me?” I asked. Panic is evident in my tone but I’m really trying to keep myself composed.

I really am.

Last time was terrifying but at least that time people were there to help her. I was there to help her. This time nobody is there to help.

“Riley?” I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I’m sure it's about to come right out of my ribcage if it carries on.

Drake, Bastien and I are now walking inside the palace. It was only Riley’s voice coming from the other end so we made the evaluation that she wasn’t outside in the crowd and must be back in the palace somewhere.

She’s not talking but I can hear her crying. “Love? Riley, can you talk to me please?”

“I don–” I heard her stutter. I can hear in her voice that she’s scared and confused. “What is…? I don’t…” She said, trailing off.

“Riley, it’s okay,” I told her but it’s not. None of this is okay, “You’re just a little bit confused, sweetheart. That’s all.”

Through her sobs she said, “Li? I don’t feel good.”

“It’s okay, Riley. It’s all going to be alright,” I told her, trying to soothe her. We’re still walking around the palace- well, actually we're running around like mad men but we need to find her.

So many things are going through my head, so many worst case scenarios. I can barely hear myself think. I just need to find her, if I find her It’ll all be okay.

“Li, I dun’t feel glood,” She told me again. Her words have become more jumbled now. She’s speaking to me like a child who's just learning their first words. That’s okay though, I know she’s still awake and I’ve still got time to find her.

I froze mid-step as I heard her crying stop and then less than a second later, heard the sickening sound of her limbs flailing and hitting the floor below her. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” I whispered to myself.

My eyes widened as my panic mounted.

I listened closely, hearing for anything that could suggest where she is..then I heard it, dogs barking in the background.

She’s in the apartment!

I started running, not giving Drake or Bastien any indication of where I was going or an explanation.

I was on the other side of the palace!

I don’t think I've ever ran this fast in my life. I can hear Drake and Bastien behind me, I assume they’re both aware of what’s happening by now. I can still hear her limbs hitting the floor and the dogs barking in the background.

I’m really starting to panic. My legs aren't taking me to our apartment fast enough. I need to get to her! Now!

Another minute, another minute too long and I finally rounded the last corner, it took me slightly off balance as my left foot skidded but I managed to get back on track.

My lungs feel like they’re screaming for air but I don’t stop. I can see the door now!

Finally, I reached it and threw it open. I was greeted by both of the also panicked looking corgis, scratching at my legs. I looked around, she’s not in the living room, kitchen, bedroom.

I left the bedroom and headed down another little corridor and saw the bathroom door closed. I don't waste any time opening it.

I opened it hurriedly but cautiously. I don't know where she is and I don’t want to hurt her. Luckily, she’s in the middle of the floor. She’s not seizing anymore, she’s laying flat on her back. Her eyes are slightly open but I don't think she’s awake.

I don’t waste any time getting down on my knees beside her. I quickly placed Drake’s phone down away from us, there’s a little bit of blood pooling out from the corner of her mouth and I notice the sick on the other side of her. I don’t know how long she’s been laying here like this. The phone had cut off a little while ago.

I quickly pull her towards me, over onto her side. A little bit of blood flows from her mouth and onto the bathroom floor tiles.

Something feels really wrong to me. Her breathing isn't right. I placed my hand on her chin and opened her mouth properly. She gags and coughed as more of the blood tinged spit came out.

“It’s alright, Love,” I whisper quietly to her.

(Riley’s POV)

My eyes fluttered open slightly. Whatever I’m laying on is cold beneath me. I can see a figure in front of me only a few inches away and that’s when I start to panic .

My vision is disfigured.

I can’t hear.

I can’t move.

I feel something behind me, jumping up on me. I don't know what it is but I don’t want it touching me!

What is it?!

Get it off!

I try to squirm away and whatever I was is pulled away from me. I didn’t get far, I’m so tired and my body doesn't want to cooperate with me.

Why is it so hard to breathe?

I look around again, there’s something by my face which I soon discover is my own hand.

What’s happening to me?

I can feel somebody touching me- that figure in front of me placed a hand on my arm. I try to get away but I’m unable to.

….Why can’t I breathe properly?

It feels like I’ve drank some water and it’s gone down the wrong way. I’m coughing and gagging, trying to get rid of this feeling but it’s not going away. Why isn't it going away?!

My mouth hurts, stung by what tastes like vomit.

My hearing starts to return to me and my vision begins to sharpen. The figure in front of me moves so their face is in my eye line. It’s Liam.

I still don’t understand what’s happening. All I know is that it’s hard to breathe. Why?

My ability to think hasn't quite returned to me yet. I don’t remember how I ended up here.

I’m staring at Liam now as I splutter about, trying to get air to my agitated feeling chest. I think he’s figured out that i can see and hear him now. He slightly titles his head at me, giving me a soft, comforting smile.

“Hi, love. It’s okay. I’m here now.”

I gripped at my chest. Good, my arms are working again. “ C’breathe,” I tried to say. My sentence was rudely interrupted by a choking sensation that i tried to swallow down but that just made me cough more

I’m still really confused. The last thing I remember is just a sense of dread, pure fear.

“What’s hap-” My sentence is cut off by another coughing fit. I felt him as he started running his fingers soothingly through my hair.

“You had a seizure,” he explained to me calmly,” But you’re okay now.” I nodded, it all slowly but surely starting to come back to me.

(Liam’s POV)

It really is breaking my heart to see Riley struggling and I can’t do anything to help her. I wish I could take all of her pain away from her. She’s the most amazing person I've ever met and doesn't deserve this.

She seems drowsier to me than she did last time. While Riley was waking up Bastien had told me he had called an ambulance as a precaution while we were looking for her and now it’s looking like it’s actually needed. She really is struggling to breathe properly.

A few minutes go by and she’s still not fully alert. Her eyes looked up to meet mine, her eyes fluttering as another coughing fit. I smiled reassuringly down at her, “It’s okay. Paramedics are coming and they’re going to help you breathe better, okay?” She nodded sleepily.

She coughed again and foamy, blood tinged spit came out. I could see her trying to turn further onto her side but she was struggling. Too weak to do the task on her own. I help her gently back over.

“Liam,” She gasped as she finished emptying out what she could.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” I gently rubbed her shoulder as I tried to soothe her the best I could. I feel powerless.

I heard some voices outside of the bathroom- one I recognize and two I didn’t. Drake had taken the dogs away, so they weren't being a nuisance and Bastien had been waiting for the paramedics to arrive, which was who I presumed who he was showing in now.

Riley flinched when the sound of boots and the rustling of bags could be heard, as the medics made their way into the bathroom. I had moved out of the way and sat down by her feet. I kept a comforting hand on her calf so she knew I was there and wasn’t going to go anywhere.

It was like I was trapped inside of my own head again, like I had been the first time I had witnessed it. It’s the worst feeling in the world when someone you love more than anything is struggling and there’s nothing you can do to help them.

I hate this.

I had seemed to have zoned out, getting trapped back inside my head, where so many scenarios were racing. The paramedics were treating my wife with a level of urgency that scared me. They had mentioned being concerned about how she was breathing and made quick work of getting out of the palace and into the awaiting ambulance.

I should have been there! If I had been there then this wouldn’t be happening right now. I should have been there to protect her!

After a quick ride in the ambulance, we arrived at the hospital, where doctors and nurses immediately got to treating my wife.

Like I had guessed, she had aspirated on her blood and spit. After I found out about her epilepsy I had done a lot of research and looked into possible complications. I knew that having that much fluid in your lungs is dangerous. The doctors had kept her on oxygen and given her some medication. She could breathe easier now, thankfully.

Riley was stable now and had been admitted. I was just relieved that she was going to be okay. I was so, so scared when Drake initially told me and then when I found her that fear only tripled.

The entire experience had been traumatising for both me and her.

I never wanted to let her out of my sight again if I’m being honest. I don’t ever want her to be scared, alone and in danger like that ever again. I don't ever want to fail in helping her again. It feels like I’ve failed to protect the one person that means the absolute world to me. The only person that I’m sure I wouldn’t ever be able to live without. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that.

I headed down the hospital corridor to her room. She was fast asleep in the bed. She looked so tiny and vulnerable. I hate seeing her like this.

Drake had kindly dropped off a bag for us both, I placed it down by the chair beside her bed as I sunk down into it. It was now the early evening. I’m not entirely sure what had happened with the festival after I left. All I had been told was that Madeleine had ‘handled it’ whatever that meant.

I keep thinking over what happened today. This all could have gone very, very differently.

I try hard to keep back the tears pricking at my eyes but I ultimately fail. I can’t keep them in. I’m so scared of something happening to Riley, like what happened today, or something so much worse. I’m scared of losing her. She means everything to me.

I quietly get to my feet. I’m planning on just going for a little walk to clear my head. She’s asleep and I know she’s safe here. As I’m about to walk away her hand gripped onto my wrist. I stopped and looked down at her.

Her eyes sleepily opened fully, “Please don’t leave.”

“Okay,” I said, sitting back down in the chair and looking over at her.

Riley rubbed at her tired eyes then scooted over in the bed. She patted the space next to her, “Get in with me,” she ordered me so of course I complied after slipping my shoes off. I wrapped my arms around her as she rested her head against my chest.

We lay like that for a few minutes. The silence was broken when I couldn't hold in a sob anymore. Riley sat up slightly, looking up at me. She took one of her hands and wiped away the tear that was falling down my cheek.

I don’t understand how she’s doing this. I’m supposed to be comforting her, not the other way around.

“I love you,” I blurted out. My voice cracked and my bottom lip quivered.

“I love you too,” She said, as she snuggled up closer against me.

I sniffled then wiped at my now irritated, red, puffy eyes. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

(Riley’s POV)

I’m so overwhelmed with guilt right now. I knew this would happen if Liam were to ever find out. I knew he’d blame himself for everything, he always does. It breaks my heart to know my husband is devastated because my brain can't just behave itself.

This is what I was more scared of.

I’ve always been treated differently because of my condition- the sad thing is I’m used to it. It’s been a part of my life since I was a little kid. It’s all I really know. I could deal with Liam being overprotective- well, more than he already is to begin with over him being heartbroken over something, neither him or myself, can control.

I snuggled closer against him. I just want to be close to him right now.

A short while later, Liam’s sniffling stops and I look up at him again. Tears are pricking at my eyes as I figure out how to word my next sentence of the offer I had been thinking over and over for the last few minutes. “I don’t want to hurt you…” Damn, the tears are already starting to flow. “If you love someone then you let them go...I’m giving you an out because I don’t want to hurt you. I-I don't want this stupid condition to ruin your life too.”

Liam didn't say anything to start with. My heart sinks as I think he’s considering my offer. Unexpectedly, he pulled me tighter against him and pecked the top of my head. “I’m never going to leave you. I love you too much to let you go.”

I let out a loud half laugh, half-cry of relief. I don’t want to lose him either. Saying that sentence obliterated my heart.

I sniffled, “I love you too much to let you go too.”

#my story #tw seizure #liam x riley #the royal romance #wacky drabbles

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billyhargrovesbabe · 5 years

Text

bump in the night

This is the response to a submission I received, and I absolutely loved it. I honestly had such a great time writing this. I didn’t realize sweet cuddly Billy was what I needed in my life like this until this submission. Or as sweet and cuddly as Billy can be. Thank you to @420keep-dreaming666 for the phenomenal prompt! I hope this lives up to what you were hoping for. Also, this gif is 100% what I believe a hungover Billy would act like.

Ask:

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Billy x fem!reader where her brother (it can be an oc or someone from the show) throws a party and billy ends up falling asleep in her room, but she doesn’t notice because she’s out with her friends so she gets home and finds Billy just asleep in her room and they’re kinda rude to each other but then it gets really fluffy because Billy’s drunk and opens up to liking the reader for a while. Sry this is all over the place. Thx!

Words: 3,201

Warnings: Lots of swearing, lots of fluff. Do these really even count as warnings?

“Fuck,” you hissed, almost face-planting on the stairs as you tried to creep up in the dark. Your brother, Tommy, had apparently taken advantage of the fact that your parents were out of town for the weekend. Well, you had both taken advantage of that. But your version of taking advantage of it was staying out past curfew, drinking and watching b-rated horror movies with your girlfriends. Tommy’s version was throwing a rager that left your house absolutely trashed. One you had no doubt you’d be left cleaning up tomorrow, scrambling to hide the evidence before your parents got home while he and Carol slept off whatever hangovers they had earned. Sometimes, being the younger sibling sucked. The jackass might’ve only had a year on you, but boy did he milk it for all it was worth.

You managed to make it up the stairs without busting your ass which was honestly a miracle and ducked into the bathroom to take your makeup off. You tried to be speedy, avoiding spending too much time in front of the mirror as that familiar paranoia set in when you spent an evening watching spooky movies. Fuck if you didn’t love them, but they did not love you. Making quick work of your makeup, you crept out into the hallway and left the lights in the bathroom on as long as possible. You tried to ignore the long shadows in the hallway, cast by the window at the other end near Tommy’s room. You could hear a faint, but very rhythmic and very telling, thud thud thud of furniture hitting a wall coming from your brother’s room. Used to that sound by now, you paused just long enough to make sure there weren’t any other creepy sounds lingering in the house before dashing across the hallway. Getting drunk and watching cheesy scary movies seemed like a great idea when you and your girls had been giggling and making fun of the victims in the movies. Now, being tipsy and having to deal with the lingering paranoia, you regretted not pushing for a chick flick instead.

You made quick work of it once you got to your room. You gingerly opened your door, quietly shut it, and practically stripped in your rush to take off everything but your underwear and your oversized t-shirt. You dove into bed, snuggling under your comforter, and sighing at the sense of safety that washed over you. After all, nothing could get you when you were under the protection of your comforter. No creepy crawly would dare disturb the sanctity of the bed.

That was when an arm wrapped around your waist.

Said arm pulled you snugly against a body that definitely should not have been there. Naturally, you did what any rational drunk teen alone in her room after a night of watching other drunken teens get brutally slaughtered on camera would do. You screamed and dove for the closest weapon you could think of in your room. Your hand wrapped around the curling iron on top of your dresser which you always left plugged in not that you were paranoid or anything but this was exactly why. You flicked the lights on, switched on the iron, and turned to face who—or what—ever had dared to ruin your clearly false sense of security.

You watched as a drowsy— and noticeably drunk— Billy Hargrove sat up from your bed. A cold wave of shock and disbelief and a little bit of excitement washed over you as his clouded blue eyes met yours. It was almost surreal, seeing his curly head popping up from where he was snuggly swathed in your blankets. You had no idea how you had missed him before; he was so clearly out of place wrapped up in your pastel bedspread. The two of you sat there, blinking at one another until he finally decided to break the spell in true Billy Hargrove fashion.

“What the fuck, y/n?”

You lowered the curling iron from where you had been wielding holding it out between the two of you, ready to defend yourself should any threat dare to come in reach of the cord. Where the hell did he get off, acting like you had interrupted his night?

“I think that’s my line,” you grumbled at him, finally switching off the curling iron and replacing it on your dresser. “What the hell are you doing in my bed, Hargrove?” His only response was a shrug. One that had you narrowing your eyes at him. You and Billy had never really been close. Once upon a time, when he had first come to Hawkins and didn’t seem to know what he was doing, you had tried to befriend him. But you two had come a long way since then.

You found him trying to pretend he wasn’t lost on his first day, walked right on up to him, and introduced yourself. Your friends had all thought you were insane, just going up to the hot and mysterious new kid like that. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you had. You just felt something in your gut nudging you to do it. You had shown him around that first day, helped him find all his classes, and sat with him at lunch. You even introduced him to your brother, knowing it’d be good for Billy to have a friend in his own year, but not thinking Tommy would demand all the attention of your new friend. He had left Billy alone for the most part in his first day or two in Hawkins. And while you and Billy weren’t exactly attached at the hip or anything, he was pretty nice towards you for the most part and not in that I-only-doing-this-to-get-in-your-pants kind of way. You had hoped maybe you could get to know him. That hope didn’t last long. It was crushed the second the California boy beat out Steve Harrington’s keg stand record. You saw the admiration and basic hero-worship in your dumbass older brother’s eyes as he trailed Billy around for the rest of the party and really the rest of the year like a lost little puppy. Whatever friendship you had with Billy was quickly thrown aside as Tommy countered you at every turn.

Where you’d call Billy out on his shit, Tommy ate it up and cackled at it. Where you tried to have intelligent conversations with Billy, Tommy and Carol brought up all the gossip and bullshit school politics with him. Where you tried to ask him about his life and world before Hawkins, Tommy was happy to just get wasted. You got that it was easier, but fuck if it didn’t sting every time Billy would pick Tommy over you. It made you feel like the annoying kid sister again, trailing along after your cruel older brother and Carol who had always been kind of a bitch to you. You really got fed up with it when they started making jokes at your expense, playing pranks on you and making fun of you for “being in love with the new King of Hawkins.” You weren’t going to put up with that shit even if it was sort of true. So, you cut Billy off. You stopped hanging around the three of them. There was some small part of you that hoped he’d miss you, realize he cared about you when you weren’t hanging around and taking their shit. But it never happened. The jokes started to let up after a while, which was honestly almost worst. It meant when the three of them got a prank in their head, it was especially cruel. And it would be exactly like the three of them to let you find Billy in your bed like he was waiting for you after the party of the year, “hoping to confess his feelings” or some bullshit like that, only for them to make fun of you for falling for it later.

Well. It wasn’t going to work this time. You might like the guy, but you weren’t just going to take this shit lying down.

“You guys really think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” The exhaustion hit you all at once as you leaned against the dresser, staring the blond in your bed down. You saw the confusion wash over his face, and you assumed his drunken brain hadn’t realized he’d obviously been caught. “What, did Carol and Tommy put you up to it? I bet the three of you are just dying to get something good to hold over me. Maybe you want a juicy piece of gossip about how I gave in to the King of Hawkins, or you're hoping to get blackmail material as I confess some feelings for you in a pathetic way. Well, it’s not going to happen Hargrove. I don’t give a fuck why you’re in my room. I just want you out. Now.”

“What the hell? You’re buggin’.” He slurred a bit as he tried to shoot back at you, but it lacked the usual bite he’d direct your way. Not that it helped. You still snapped back at him with the regular amount of venom you would. You had a fire that could rival Billy’s. All of Hawkins knew it. And you were one of the only people who didn’t back down when it came to him.

“Right.” You took pleasure in the dangerous edge to your voice. It was the kind that had sent underclassmen running the other way before. It was the kind that made Tommy listen to you, Carol worry about the rumors you might spread, and your friends apologize immediately for whatever they had done to upset. You rarely used it, hating the way it made you feel like a bitch, but when you did take advantage of it, people listened. And you were tired of this boy thinking he could walk all over you. Your voice was low, and cold, and controlled. And you milked it. “Because you three never act so casually cruel that I’d have a reason to be suspicious. You’ve never made my day suck just for the hell of it. You don’t make fun of me at every turn for just being a decent person and actually daring to genuinely care about you, do you?”

You didn’t need an answer, but you still waited. You waited until he cut his eyes away, clearly uncomfortable with the situation and knowing there was truth to your words. You relished in it. “That’s what I thought. Bite me, Hargrove.”

Some kind of thought or emotion flickered over his face. His eyes were still murky and clouded, but the self-righteous expression he had worn was gone. He suddenly looked like the young, seventeen-year-old kid he was. Gone was the macho man bravado and badass bluster. Instead, you were left with a Billy you had never seen before. He almost looked... well, vulnerable. His expression was so open as tried to think of what to say next, his eyes so wide as they settled on you, and his hair unruly in a way that definitely wasn’t intentional. He muttered something as his eyes cut away from yours, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“What was that?” You tried to distract yourself. The scare had killed whatever buzz you had left from your evening, but you were still tipsy enough that it was dangerous to focus on your feelings for him too much. Feelings lead to confessions, and you refused to give him and your brother anything else to hold over you. You had tried to make your voice hard and sharp, nagging even. You had a feeling it came out far softer than you cared to admit.

“Used to call me Billy,” he mumbled. You barely made it out this time. You stepped closer when you saw him open his mouth to speak again, not wanting to miss what he was about to say. “You. You used to call me Billy. None of this Hargrove bullshit.”

You laughed in disbelief. “Well, it’s not exactly like we’re friends. You’ve made that painfully clear. Besides, you call Steve by his surname so I figured why not give you a taste of your own medicine.”

“You friends with that asshole?” Billy hissed, suddenly tensing. You could feel the fury slowly begin to boil. It was odd to see someone wrapped in a pastel blanket look threatening, but his quick flare to anger wasn’t anything new.

“No,” you tried to reassure him. Why were you reassuring him? Why should you care? “But he’s friendlier to me than you are. Never made fun of me when he and Tommy were best friends. Not that it’s any of your business.” You hoped that one stung him to hear as much as it stung you to admit. You were all over the place, and you knew it. You didn’t have your normal control around him, the safeguards that protected you from that look in his eyes. The one he was giving you now. The one that was protective, and demanding, and curious all at once. The two of you sat in tense, uncomfortable silence for a while. Your eyes locked with his, and the two of you were left staring at one another. You suddenly registered you were in nothing but your t-shirt and underwear, and you rushed to find some shorts to throw on while covering your chest in the process.

“ ’S not a trick.” You almost missed it as you quickly pulled the shorts off the floor and up your legs. You almost didn’t hear him at all. Almost. “Got sleepy. Didn’t wanna go home. Tommy said I could sleep on the couch downstairs, but...” You waited for him to continue. You hoped the silence would encourage him. When he didn’t finish the rest of the thought, you mentally counted to ten and then finally turned to face him.

“But?” You tried to prompt him as gently as you could. He shrugged, avoiding your eyes.

“Got distracted.” You held your breath, hoping, praying, that wasn’t all he had left to say. You waited and watched as his eyes cut to yours, then away again. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve sworn a blush had spread across his cheeks. You let the silence linger a little longer this time, filling the empty space by letting your eyes trace his face. As the silence drew on, Billy finally grew uncomfortable enough in his drunken state to break. “I found your room. Was kinda hoping I’d find you in it.”

This time, you really didn’t breathe. Your heart raced, and you were so tempted to go to him. You so badly wanted to be next to him, and you were just a few inches from the bed now. It’d be so easy to just lounge next to him and let yourself just settle with that answer. But you owed it to yourself to hear more. Hell, he owed it to you after all the shit he had put you through.

“Why?” This time, instead of just avoiding your eyes, he huffed and scooted himself to the edge of the bed. He looked away from you and set his jaw in that stubborn way of his that said no way in hell am I saying anymore. You were having none of that. “Billy, why?”

He finally turned to you at the use of his first name, just like you knew he would. He swallowed, and you searched his eyes as he seemed to debate with himself over whether or not he should tell you. You implored him with your eyes, desperately and silently asking him to say what you needed to hear.

“Fuck, I can’t say it. I’m not some little bitch.” His gruff response shattered the spell, and he got up from your bed. He moved so quickly, throwing the comforter down and practically sprinting from your room, that you barely managed to grab his hand on his way to the door. He stiffened at your touch.

“Please, Billy. I know you’re not. But I still need to hear it.” Your voice was just a whisper, but it filled the room. You pulled him gently by the hand, and he turned to face you. He kept his head down until he took a deep, cleansing breath. When he lifted his head to face you, you could see the guarded expression on his face. You could see the fear of rejection in his eyes. And once again, he set his jaw in determination.

“I like you, sweetheart.” It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t the blushing or heartfelt confession you used to dream as a little girl about when you imagined a guy telling you he liked you. “I like you a lot. Have for a while now, believe it or not. I know I’ve put you through a lot of bullshit or whatever, but you’re pretty cool. And you’ve got way more going for you than Tommy, or Carol, or anyone else in this shithole of a town. And yeah, I can be a dick, or an asshole, or whatever but--” But it would do. After all, it was Billy.

You didn’t let him finish.

You quickly pressed your lips against his, cutting off his sentence, trying to calm him down, and finally living the moment you’ve been dreaming of for months now. His lips were soft, and he pressed them against yours without missing a beat. You could taste the cheap whiskey he had been drinking and the cigarettes he had undoubtedly bummed that night. It made your heart beat faster. You sighed into him, stepping closer and grasping his shirt desperately with your hands. You worked your lips against his until his arm came up to wrap around your waist. That was when it all came crashing back to you.

“You promise this isn’t a trick?” You rasped the question, out of breath from the kiss but desperate to ask it. You had to be sure. “Billy, if this is some joke or prank, I’m not going to be able to handle it. I can’t just laugh this one off or let it slide. Not after this.”

“Y/N.” His voice was the gentlest you had ever heard it before. “I promise. Now do us both a favor and shut up.” His hand came up to cradle the back of your head as his lips dipped down to meet yours once again. You sighed into it, enjoying the feel of being wrapped in his arms. He walked you back until the two of you collapsed back onto the bed, only breaking to breathe when you desperately needed air.

You let Billy stay in your room, citing the horror movies you had watched earlier as the reason why. After all, you had to take advantage of your parents being gone for the weekend. And you had a feeling Tommy wouldn’t be able to make you clean up the mess from his party tomorrow if Billy was there. Plus, you had always wanted to have a little fun in the back of the blond’s Camaro...

#Billy Hargrove #billy #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove headcanon #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove reader insert #fluffy fluff fluff #babe's writings #billysbabe #stranger things #stranger things headcanon #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fluff #stranger things billy hargrove #stranger things season 2 reader insert

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thepinkcar · 5 years

Note

Hi!! I love your writing so much! Would you be able to do a part 2 of Love in the Dark? Thank you so much!

By popular request, why not!

—

Two Ghosts

pairing: reader x timothée

words: 1K

Part 1

Two years moves fast once you find yourself again. The feeling is a comfortable weight as you sit in your local bar’s makeshift backstage. Usually performances had you jittery and chatting with the band, exchanging laughs before tumbling out onto the small stage. The hobby turned side gig had only been a part of your life for a little over a year now. After you had walked away from Timothée almost two years ago, you found yourself picking up writing again. Before you knew it, your small poems became full fledged songs, you started to play your old guitar after letting it collect dust while traveling the past few years, and you were getting sporadic bookings for shows around your city. You even released a homemade EP that was met with an overwhelming amount of commercial success that sparked the interest of some bigger name labels.

But there was no way in hell you were ever going anywhere near the entertainment industry side of things ever again.

Tonight’s gig was a little different than usual since you’d decided to do a few covers before being on your way for the night—you owed the manager a favor. As the time approaches, you and the band settle yourselves on stage while the manager bounds up giddily to introduce you.

“How’re y’all doin’ tonight?” he hollers, overly gesticulative. You bite back a laugh at the familiar energy while the bar crowd gives an equally energized hoot. “Now this young lady over here is a real treasure, let me tell you. And she’s giving us the pleasure of hearing her play some songs tonight!” The crowd cheers and you grin humbly, bowing your head.

“Are y’all ready?” you say smoothly, resisting the urge to cringe at your own drawl. With another round of cheers, the drummer starts the beat as you launch into your set. The setlist was laidback with folkier tunes—ballads from Hozier, melodies from the Lumineers, and the always-welcome authenticity of Kacey Musgraves. It wasn’t until the last song that you felt your heart constrict.

“This is our last song for the night. A song that’s meant a lot to me the past couple of years, a kindred spirit to my own music. This one is Two Ghosts.” The drums tumble in as the guitars and bass follow. You take a breath and let your eyes close, singing the first verse earnestly. “Same lips red, same eyes blue, same white shirt, couple more tattoos. But it's not you and it's not me.”

It takes every thing in you not to cry around the chorus, all the feelings of months ago coming in a rush. Your eyes open again and you see in the corner of your eye a new group of people crowding around the bar. They’re rowdy young men, attempting to whisper in a way only drunk people do. You can only make out one of their faces, forest eyes watching you like he had seen a ghost. You pull away, playing your guitar solo before turning your attention on him completely.

“We're not who we used to be. We don't see what we used to see. We're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.” You see Timothée finally return from his shock, his shoulders tensing as he stands straighter. You turn your attention back to the rest of the bar as you croon the last to lines, the final chords hitting their ears. As your met with applause you wave goodbye, following your bandmates off stage. You try to ignore the itch of Timothée’s presence along with the slew of questions bouncing around your brain.

“I almost didn’t recognize you. Your look is so…different.” You snort, giving yourself a once over. The ripped jeans and flowy button up paired with golden chains and multiple rings on your fingers was definitely edgier than the a-line dresses and Mary Jane style heels you used to wear when you were with Timothée. This felt more like you.

“Well you haven’t seen me in awhile.”

“With reason,” Timothée says lowly. You raise a brow, taking a sip from your drink. You had decided to join him at the bar instead of hiding in the shadows until he left with his entourage and out of your life once again. There was something satisfying about his restless state; for once he was the lost one in the crowded room.

“What are you doing in Jersey, T? What’s for you here?” Your voice is even but cold. Timothée shrugs.

“Visiting old friends. I didn’t know you’d be playing tonight, if that’s what you’re wondering.” You hum, satisfied with what seemed to be honesty. You watched him more closely, taking in the familiar mess of curls and lanky figure. His face had matured but he was still lacking in the facial hair. A grin tugs at your lips.

“Well, was I at least any good?” you joke, taking another sip. Timothée smiles, relieved at the lack of interrogation.

“Absolutely phenomenal. I was blown away. You have a calling or something,” he says earnestly. You roll your eyes and wave your hand dismissively.

“Definitely not. I’m not going anywhere near industry people ever again.” He laughs bitterly, his smile becoming more of grimace. You take a longer sip.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Genuinely. The way I treated you—“

“Timmy…”

“No, let me finish!” You jump when he raises his voice. “Sorry, but I need you to understand how absolutely awful I feel about how things ended. I never meant for things to go the way they did. I love you so much and I should have never put you through the pain of making you doubt that.” His jade eyes watched you intensely, but you could see his nose begin to tinge pink.

“I never doubted you loved me. I just didn’t think it mattered.” You see a rollercoaster of emotion read across his face until he crashes into heartbreak. You feel a lump form in your throat. “Don’t you get it? That’s what made it worse. You loved me and you still hid me away like I was shameful or something. I couldn’t do it anymore. I was sick of feeling like I was never really enough for you.”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what! It’s the truth Timothée! You can’t just—“

Everything sped up and slowed down all in one swift motion as he pulled you close, lips catching yours. A slow tender kiss to compliment the rapid beat of your heart and his jittery fingers. You pull away, blush heating your cheeks. Timothée appears equally shocked.

“I, uh, I still love you. I know it’s too late to fix things and that things have changed but I need you to know that. You’re perfect to me and I’m sorry I was such a fucking idiot but I’m absolutely crazy about you still,” he says breathlessly. You stare at him in bewilderment, a smile growing on your face. Before you can stop it, your cackling. Timothée looks at you curiously and grins, allowing himself to chuckle hesitantly.

“You’re such a drama king, Timmy, “ you snicker, finishing your drink before getting up. You see a flash of fear cross TImothée’s. “You’re lucky that I love you so much.” He beams, sitting up straighter.

“You still love me?”

“Always. But I need more time. We both do,” you answer softly. Timothée nods slowly, pausing for moment. You begin to walk backstage again. You need to get home soon, especially now that you have a lot to think over.

“Y/N?” You stop, turning back.

“Yes, T?”

“Two Ghosts, is that your favorite?” he asks. You’d almost swear he sounds melancholy.

“Sweet Creature. Sweet Creature’s my favorite.”

#timothee chalamet imagine #timothée chamalet #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet #call me by your name #cmbyn #beautiful boy #the king #a rainy day in new york #little women #dune #imagine #imagines #request #submit

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revisitedgrunt · 5 years

Text

Harley and Ivy.

A new fans thoughts on this relationship and the Harley Quinn comic: Part 1 of 4.

On a whim I picked up Harley Quinn: Volume 1: Hot in the City, last month. I thought it was fantastic and immediately brought volumes 2 - 6. I've just now read issue 63 and I'm caught up with the current run.

I absolutely loved the 2013-2016 run. It's probably the most consistently good run of comics I've ever read. Amanda Connor and Jimmy Palmiotti do an absolutely amazing job. I loved the way they wrote Harley, I loved the supporting characters, I loved the location and I loved every story.

Their time on the current run was also phenomenal. I had a great time reading issues 1 to 34. Frank Teiri's short run was fine and Sam Humphries work... I'll come back to that later.

I had heard that there were Harley/Ivy shippers, but, to be honest, I thought it was an unsubstantiated ship. Fan's shipping them because they thought they looked cute together and not because there was anything of substance there. I was very wrong,

Ivy is introduced in issue 2, very, very early in the series. In her very first appearance, her very first interaction with Harley is pretty flirty.

There's talk of kissing, Ivy being cool seeing Harley's beaver, seeming a but disappointed when it's an actual beaver. Bernie's sexual innuendo to Ivy, bearing in mind the things Bernie says are an extension of Harley's mind.

Yeah, that was a lot for one scene, their very first scene. I now understood why people shipped them. However, I wasn't fully on board yet.

Harley and Ivy have a fun adventure saving some animals from a shelter. Harley decides to adopt them all, and Ivy, thoughtfully, creates a park in Harley's building for the animals.

There's also this scene. Wow, this scene.

Harley and Ivy spend the night on the beach together, which, to me, seems inherently romantic. Ivy looking over at Harley and, being so overwhelmed by what she sees, can't help but kiss her and call her “My cute, little psycho.” That's pretty damn gay. I'm sure some could argue that it was plutonic, but, come on! No one does that to someone they only have plutonic feelings for.

This scene convinced me Ivy loves Harley. It also happens in Ivy's first appearance. It seems to me that Amanda and Jimmy wanted to establish this immediately.

In issue 3 we see that Ivy has left Harley some plants, which is very sweet.

Issue 7 gives us more flirting from Harley.

Issue 15 has a pretty interesting scene.

Harley's upset that she had to cancel her date with Mason and is worried the relationship is over. Ivy is really supportive and gives her some good advice. Things then turn pretty sexual, pretty quickly. “Is that your hand?” “Is that yours?” “Are you gonna get off?” “Are you?”. Oh my god! Sure, they'd both been drinking, but they weren't drunk. This scene would seem to indicate that, if nothing else, they have a physical attraction to each other.

The knock on the door is Mason. He and Harley reschedule their date and Ivy is happy for her. I was a bit confused at this point. Considering Ivy exhibits no hurt or jealously that Harley wants to date someone else, I thought that I was wrong about Ivy's feelings for Harley.

The Road Trip Special gives us this.

Harley seems very happy that Ivy has taken off her dress. It's more evidence that Harley is physically attracted to Ivy.

The Road Trip Special also has Ivy being really supportive. She gives Harley a photo album Harley's dead uncle had kept, and she regrows a dead tree on Harley's aunt and uncles grave.

The Annual has a pretty momentous scene. Ivy's been locked up in Arkham and Harley goes to break her out. Harley finds out Ivy has been brainwashed, and this happens.

Someone correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure this is the first time the two have kissed in the prime canon timeline. I'm a bit conflicted about this scene. It would seem to indicate Harley has romantic feelings for Ivy, The sound effect indicates it's a big, passionate kiss, not a peck on the lips. Harley also cups the back of Ivy's neck, which is an intimate gesture. In addition, Harley thinks this kiss will cure Ivy, which makes me think about Sleeping Beauty and true love. However, while it's amazing and romantic that Harley thinks this, Ivy isn't an active participant, the two aren't sharing a kiss, which is a little disappointing.

Harley and Ivy have a heart to heart in issue 25.

My immediate take away from this scene is that Harley has no problem whatsoever being naked in front of Ivy.

Ivy expresses a lot of care, concern and respect for Harley. She doesn't want her to break into Arkham alone, but she respects Harley's decision to do so. After the Joker, this sort of care and respect is exactly what Harley needs.

Harley talks about the Joker and how she still has some for love for him. At the same time, the reason she's doing this is she loves Mason. Harley jokes about Ivy loving her and asks if Ivy wants to feel her up. Ivy's response made me spit out my drink. How do they know where that leads? Just how physical have they got with each other? Anyway, there is a lot of sexual innuendo here, and with everything that's come before, reinforces the fact that these two are sexually attracted to each other

A later scene from issue 25 gave me clarity on Ivy's feelings for Harley.

The question “Jealous?” implies that Madame Macabre knows Ivy has feelings for Harley. This means I was right about Ivy loving Harley. However, it's also much more than I expected. Ivy has that special kind of love for Harley. The unselfish kind, where you just want the person you love to be happy, even if they're not with you.

I really liked Ivy before, this scene made me fall in love with her.

Ivy continues to be awesome in issue 29.

Despite having limited time, she finds the time to see Harley and make sure she's OK, demonstrating again how caring and supportive she is. Ivy's also all over Harley, something Harley does not mind.

In case I had any lingering doubts that Harley has a physical attraction for Ivy, she says two things here that confirm it for me. She expresses disappointment that Ivy can't stay overnight as she could “use the attention.” Shortly after she tries to convince Ivy to spend the night. Now, I may have a dirty mind, but it seems to me like Harley is after sex here. There are several ways Amanda and Jimmy could have worded this to make it less sexual, they didn't do that.

Interestingly, Harley also says she misses Ivy more than Mason. I don't think she's telling Ivy what she wants to hear, that's not the type of relationship they have. So, if we take her at her word, she misses Ivy more than a guy she was in love with. That would seem to be a pretty big hint about how much Harley cares for Ivy. This, along with the kiss scene in the annual, convinced me that Harley has romantic feelings for Ivy, not just sexual ones.

So Harley is polyamorous? Non-monogamous? She loved Mason and she loved Ivy. She had lines of dialogue that indicted she wanted to sleep with both of them. Harley and Ivy didn't talk about dating, but Ivy says several times how busy she is, so maybe it's just not the right time for them. Harley, being non-monogamous and caring about both of them, is happy to date the one who has the time to be in a relationship. Or I could be completely wrong.

Just a quick word about Mason. He was fine, obviously a better boyfriend than that Joker, but he was pretty boring and certainly not a standout character.

Issue 30, the last one in the original run, ends with Harley and Ivy sitting in a tree. They are sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Yep, Amanda and Jimmy went there. Subtlety was completely thrown out the window. Haley and Ivy, sitting in a tree. Also, Ivy knows Harley isn't furry. Wow!

I cannot express how much I love the 2013-2016 run. Every issue is so much fun.

It's pretty wild to me how caring, supportive and loving Ivy was the entire run. Amanda and Jimmy immediately establish how much Ivy cares for Harley. By the end of the run, it's clear to me that Harley has similar feelings. Given how popular these two character are, I have to salute DC for letting them write Harley and Ivy this way. I'm sure some people could argue that they are just really, really good friends, but when you actually read the comic, they act pretty damn gay.

Thanks for reading. Part 2 will be my thoughts on the current run

#harley quinn #poison ivy #harlivy

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spacemutineer · 4 years

Note

The god of spring + questions 2, 5, 11, 13 👀

Thank you so much for asking! I’ve had really too much fun going back through my old Google Doc files and seeing what was first, what notes I had, that kind of thing. I went phenomenally overboard on this, babbling on, but hopefully it won’t be too boring or ridiculous. <3

2: What scene did you first put down?

This story started as an idea of pleased drunk Harold after a case allowing John a single question about him. Just one, now or never. When I was playing with it, I came up with two things John might ask. The first and the one I didn't use was, "Were you in love with Nathan Ingram?" I played with a bunch of answers for that. This is a chunk of that text, from all the way back in August 2019:

––

"That's your question? You could have asked me anything, and you ask me about a dead man? Why? What difference does that make?"

"Questioning me first was not in the terms."

Again, not wrong. He considers.

"Nathan was..." He trails off, can't finish that thought. All he can do is breathe for a moment. "I loved him. I knew he loved me. Where exactly he decided to draw the division between us was irrelevant to me. That line moved with time and I was content to move with it. With him."

Silence.

"Does that answer your question?"

"It does."

"Now can I ask you why?"

"No."

––

The question I ended up going with began as this text:

–--

"What's your name?"

"What's yours? Not easy to answer, is it? There is the name you were born with, the name you spent the longest wearing, the multiple your most loved others knew you as, the one you're wearing now."

"The one you are. What's your name?"

"Harold Finch."

–--

When I started actively writing the idea the next day, I thought it made more sense to change the origin of the questioning to John being dosed on a drug, and as I wrote, I realized he might ask the question, but the answer really doesn't matter to him. Still, you can see the roots of some of that original text in John's dialogue in the finished story as he considers all of Harold's names.

5: What part was hardest to write?

The opening setup part of this story was absolutely the hardest thing to write. I just wanted to dive into the good stuff, all the emotion and dialogue, but I had to set the damn thing up first and make it plausible and at least a little interesting so readers don't just immediately abandon ship. I had a whole thing with Carter being there for a while, but I realized she didn't add anything other than complexity. Eventually, I just kept paring it away until it was pretty barebones, just an OC conveniently dumping some exposition on John and setting the dominoes in place. It's inelegant, but it got the job done. The opening isn't what I came to write this story for and it's not what readers come to see either.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I kind of love John's drugged up metaphorical voyage through his own thoughts about Finch. I had a lot of fun writing that section, trying to keep that thread of things at least a little in the natural realm given John called him the god of spring early on but still get to the heart of John's feelings and Harold's mystery. My favorite bits are "I thought I wanted to find where you were born, to learn where the rain came from when it fell. I thought knowing the cloud would mean knowing the storm." and "One lone bird among the flock, so many they conceal the sky." It's all such flowery nonsense and I absolutely loved writing it.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I listen to atmospheric electronica a lot when I write, usually instrumental because lyrics can get in the way of the translation process involved in getting words out of my head into text. While I was writing this story, I happened upon the Clint Mansell soundtrack for the Black Mirror episode San Junipero and I ended up listening to one song in particular on a loop. It's called Faith, Hope, Fear & Falling in Love, and damn if that title isn't pretty much exactly what I was after when I was writing. I loved the 80's soundscape of it, the hesitance in the vibrato synth, the voices lending a feeling of anxiety blended with wonder and discovery. Mmm, it's just so pretty and it really helped me get this story right.

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hazzasgayvodka · 5 years

Text

give the people what they want

alright so last night I challenged you all to send me your best asks/requests and I would compile them all into one single story to the best of my ability and let me tell you, I have done just that

HARRY WITH SCRUFF GOING DOWN ON YOU PUHHLEASEEE

DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY KINK

Thigh riding pls !!!!

um i’m not creative but imagine harry as like a superhero ahsdkfjdsklj idk just do whatever you want with it lmao

PLEASE write a blurb with harry’s hands and the rings he’s wearing right now because those pics made me H O R N Y

Fluff # 14 (”Do you ever shut up?”) do whatever you wanna do with that because your writing is phenomenal!! Maybe add some smut though ??

I literally just need more cocky h content in my life please go off queen and give the people what they want ALRIGHT

TWO WORDS: PAIN. KINK.

Don’t care how you work it in, I trust your judgement “It’s 8 o’clock in the morning you are not having vodka”

PART TWO OF LIKE A VIRGIN I STG IF YOU DON’T

I JUST WANT YOU TO INCLUDE TWO SIMPLE WORDS: “Bed. Now.”

Harry meeting all your friends for the first time and he’s like nervous I guess idk something like that would be cute love you :)

SAY IT WITH ME GIRLS! STONER H! STONER H! STONER H!

H BEING OBSESSED WITH YOUR ASS PLS AND THX

please more stoner!h maybe like some shotgunning or smokerings like that shits hot

WAKING UP NEXT TO H PLS THATS ALL I WANT

H’S LAME DAD DANCE MOVES LIKE FINGER GUNS AND GRINDING UP ON YOU ALL CHEEKY

H DRESSED LIKE YOUR ICON THAT IS ALL THANKS

okay but h in his yellow vans or yellow in general yeah that

PAINTING H’S NAILS OR HIM JUST HAVING BLACK NAILS PLEASE

hahaha don’t kill me but what IF H HAD A FACE TATTOO

So, with all of those asks said (and many repeats not voiced because GOD you guys really wanted like a virgin part 2) HERE IT IS

in which you’re going to your friend’s wedding and bringing h along after just meeting him last week at a party

ENJOY!

You peel your eyes open to the sunlight coming in through the window, squinting in the brightness and rolling over to see Harry still dead asleep, curled up beside you. His eyes are fluttered closed, his arm lazily draped across your stomach and you don’t even think about it as you reach up to run your hand through his messy mop of hair.

“Y/N,” He groans, scrunching his face up, “Let me sleep, woman.”

“You forgetting what today is?” You ask, leaning over to peck his cheek before standing from his bed.

“Tuesday?” He sighs, finally rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

“Try Thursday,” You laugh, grabbing your pair of panties from the floor and wiggling as you pull them up your legs, “And it’s my friend Tiffany’s wedding, we’ve been over this.”

He holds his head in his hand, running his hand through his hair to get it out of his face before finally looking up to meet your eyes, “Are you sure we have to go to that?” He grimaces.

“I’m sure I have to go,” You shrug, slipping on one of his button-up shirts, “You don’t have to come with if you don’t want to, but I’m pretty sure my friends are going to be on your doorstep with pitchforks if they don’t get to meet you soon.”

“Wait,” He says, suddenly more alert as he pushes himself out of bed finally, “This is like a meeting the friends thing?”

“Well yeah, but it’s not like a big deal-“

“What did you tell them about me? You didn’t tell them that we fucked at that party, did you?” He asks nervously.

“I mean yeah,” You shrug, laughing, “I just told them that I met you at Louis’ party and we got drunk and a little high and slept together and now we’re kind of hanging out.”

“Oh my god,” He sighs, running his hands through his hair again as he pulls on his ripped jeans from yesterday, “God they probably think I’m some fucking loser-“

“They don’t think that.” You assure him, rolling your eyes.

“Y/N! You told them that I got you cross faded and then fucked you upstairs at a frat party!” He shouts, trying not to laugh.

“Maybe you should plan your conquests more accordingly,” You smirk, tossing him his pink hoodie from the back of his desk chair, “You never know when you’ll end up dating one of them.”

“Woah, woah, woah, sweetheart,” He grins, pulling on his hoodie and following you into the kitchen, “I thought you said we were absolutely not, under no circumstances, ‘dating’.”

“And I stand by that,” You nod, starting the coffee pot, “But I think for the sake of today, my friends will ask a lot less questions if I just introduce you as my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” He smirks, smacking your ass as he walks behind you to get to the cereal in the cupboard, “That’s one hell of a promotion from casual booty call, don’t you think?”

“Oh, is that what this is?” You tease, bumping your hip against his as he reaches into the fridge.

“You tell me, babe.” He laughs, coming away from the fridge with the bottle of Smirnoff in his hand.

“Harry, what are you doing?”

“Starting the day off right,” He shrugs, grabbing a mug, “Gotta get through this wedding somehow.”

“What? No,” You chuckle, snatching the bottle out of his hand, “It is eight o’clock in the morning, you are not drinking vodka.”

“It’s only eight o’clock?” He scoffs, “Why the fuck am I not in bed right now?”

“Honestly,” You giggle, shoving a mug of coffee in his hand instead, “I expected it to be a lot harder to wake you up.”

“Oh, lovely,” He groans, rolling his eyes, “God, I’m gonna smoke a bowl.”

“So, you’re not driving today then?” You ask, quirking your eyebrow up at him as he lights his pipe and inhales deeply.

“Um, yes…?” He says uneasily, clearly trying to read you and what you want him to say.

“Good,” You grin, patting his chest and leaning in to peck his lips, “Because I plan on taking full advantage of the free champagne.”

He shotguns a puff of smoke into your mouth and you cough as he laughs, leaning back against the counter, “I guess I won’t complain about that.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows at you rather suggestively.

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating Styles,” You tease, “But whatever it is, I can assure you it won’t be happening until we leave the wedding.”

“I mean, I’m free right now,” He smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to him, “And would you look at that, you’re already half undressed.”

You collapse against the mattress, struggling to pull oxygen into your lungs as Harry chuckles from between your thighs, his arms still hooked around your knees. He leans his head against your right leg and you nearly jump out of your skin as the stubble on his cheek rubs against the skin of your inner thigh.

“Jesus, H!” You squeal, shoving him away, “God you need to shave your face.”

“What? You don’t like it?” He grins deviously, purposefully rubbing his prickly face between both of your thighs and making you writhe under him.

“No, it tickles like a bitch!” You giggle, sitting up and grabbing his face in your hands to tug him up the bed to kiss you instead.

You can feel his stubble beneath your hands as you hold his face to you, moving your mouth with his. Part of you loves it, just the slightest bit of roughness rubbing against your fingertips. He pulls away from you and you take his lip between your teeth, tugging it towards you, your eyes flickering open to catch a glimpse of his eyes fluttered closed. Your eyes dart to his lip and you swear you see the edges of a tattoo, thin black lines peaking out from the backside of his bottom lip.

“H?” You laugh, pulling away from him fully and grabbing his lip between your fingers, “Do you have a lip tattoo?”

He grins mischievously, his eyes glittering as he brushes your hand away and folds his lip over himself so you can read it, “Maybe,” He shrugs, “It says bite me, it was a dare.”

“Mhm, sure it was.” You nod, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his again.

“I swear it was babe!” He chuckles, shuffling off the bed to follow you to the bathroom to start getting ready.

You shake your head as you grab your toothbrush and start brushing your teeth while Harry takes to shaving his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror and he sticks his tongue out at you as he runs his electric razor back and forth over his cheeks just to trim down the stubble on his face.

“So how dressed up am I supposed to be getting for this thing?” He asks, wetting his hands under the faucet and running his hands through his hair to sort it out.

“I mean, a suit would be nice,” You nod, grabbing your makeup bag, “If you have one.”

“If I have one,” He scoffs, turning to you and leaning on the counter, “What kind of man do you take me for, sweetheart?”

“One with a lip tattoo,” You tease, patting his chest patronizingly, “Sweetheart.”

He rolls his eyes, squeezing your ass as he passes behind you to start the shower and strip out of his clothes. As nice as he looks in the tight ass pair of ripped black jeans and the bubblegum pink hoodie, he definitely looks better standing there in his plain black boxer briefs. You feel your cheeks flush when your eyes meet his and he raises his eyebrows before he tugs down his boxers too.

“Like what you see there, babe?” He grins, sending you a wink as he slides behind the shower curtain just before you can reach out and hit him, “Hey, watch it woman!” He laughs, peaking back out of the shower and meeting your eyes in the mirror again.

“Hurry up, Styles,” You scold, “We’re leaving in half an hour.”

You finish putting on the rest of your makeup while Harry spends most of his shower trying to convince you to join him. After already wasting most of the morning naked in his bed you regretfully decline and slide back into his bedroom to put on your dress. You’re just shimmying the skintight fabric over your ass when Harry walks back into his room with his towel hanging dangerously low on his hips.

You can feel his eyes on you as you grab your heels from your duffel bag in the corner, strapping them to your feet while he slides on a pair of Spider-man boxers. He walks over to his closet and shuffles all the way to the back, dragging out a plain all black suit and his one simple white button up.

He shrugs on the button up, leaving the top three buttons undone before tucking it into his black slacks and sliding on his black jacket. It fits him like a dream, and you have to physically drag your eyes away from him while he adjusts the collar of his jacket.

“Spider-man huh?” You smirk, grabbing your clutch.

“You bet,” He chuckles, grabbing his yellow vans from the bottom of his closet, “Gotta conceal the web shooter.”

“Gross,” You groan, shoving him over as he laces his shoes up on his feet, “Are you seriously wearing those?”

“I’m wearing a suit, aren’t I?” He asks, throwing his arms in the air, “What more do you want woman?”

“Fine, fine,” You sigh, shaking your head as he throws on his cross necklace and grabs the rings off his bedside table, sliding them on his fingers, “How many rings you gonna put on, H?”

“As many as I want to,” He nods matter-of-factly, showing off his hands when he’s finished, “It’s a wedding isn’t it?”

You can’t help but laugh as you take his hands in yours, tracing over his giant gold rings with his initials etched into them. H.S. He’s been way too cocky about them since he first got them a few days ago, making big talk about branding your ass with his name but he hasn’t acted on it yet.

“I like your nails,” You grin cheekily, remembering the other night when you convinced him to let you paint his black to match yours.

“I do too actually,” He nods, clearly surprised himself, “It looks kinda sick.”

He grabs his phone and wallet, shoving them into either pocket of his pants before snatching his keys off the counter and twirling them around his finger. You follow him to the door and out to his car where Start Me Up by The Rolling Stones starts blasting as soon as he starts it.

“Sorry.” He chuckles, turning the radio back down and backing out of his parking spot.

You’re leaving a little later than you had originally planned in order to make it there on time what with Harry’s morning antics but you’re still feeling rather optimistic about making it on time until you hit a huge block of traffic on the freeway.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You huff, letting your head hit the seat behind you.

“Just hang on babe,” He laughs, resting his ring covered hand on your thigh and giving you a squeeze, “We’re only missing the boring part, we’ll be there in plenty of time before the reception.”

You roll your eyes as he runs his hands through his hair for the hundredth time, complaining once again about how he really needs to get a haircut before he goes rummaging in his glovebox. He sits back up with a pair of white clout goggle sunglasses and slides them on top of his head, holding his hair back out of his face.

“You cannot be serious.” You laugh, snatching them off his head and sliding them on yourself.

“Hey,” He defends, “I’ll have you know it was Elton John that made these cool.”

“I’ll have you know that no matter how hot you think you are, you cannot pull these off.” You smirk, popping them back on his head.

You both arrive to the wedding way past the ceremony. By the time you enter the banquet hall, the reception is already in full swing. You hook your arm through his and lead him around the room, looking for your nameplate on one of the many tables.

“Y/N! You’re over here!”

You look up to see your friend Heather calling you over to the table. You grab Harry’s hand and start to pull him behind you over to the table, but he stops in his tracks, dragging you back to him.

“I don’t think I can do this.” He says nervously.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s no way they’re gonna like me, I’m in fucking Vans at a wedding Y/N, what was I thinking? God, I let you paint my nails black and I’m too sober for this-“

“Harry,” You say seriously, grabbing him by the shoulders, “I like the fact that you’re in Vans with your nails painted at a wedding because it’s you, and I happen to like you, just a little bit, and they will too.”

“And if they don’t?” He asks, scrunching his face.

“Then who cares,” You sigh, grabbing his hand again, “They’re not the one sleeping with you, they don’t have to like you.”

A small grin finally turns up one side of his mouth and you lean forward, pecking his lips before threading your fingers through his and leading him over to the table.

“Oh my god, you must be Harry.” Brynn smiles as soon as you’re both in ear reach and he reaches his hand out to shake hers, but she grabs him in her arms to hug him instead.

“Oh, you’re Harry!” Heather squeals, “We’ve heard so much about you!”

You send her a death glare just as Harry looks at you over his shoulder with the cockiest smirk you’ve ever seen plastered on his face, “Oh, is that so?”

“Well obviously, she nearly dropped off the face of the Earth after meeting you,” Brynn shrugs, “We had to know all we could about the man Y/N is spending all of her time with.”

Your cheeks are nearly flaming when the words come out of Brynn’s mouth and you wish you could reach across the table and shove them back in when you feel Harry’s eyes on you again. You wish you could melt into the floor and go back in time so this interaction never happened just as the DJ comes on the speaker and announces that food will be served in ten minutes.

“Thank god, I’m starving.” Harry grins, taking the seat right next to Brynn and patting the empty chair next to him.

You sit through nearly an hour of your friends relentlessly grilling Harry and he doesn’t seem phased by it at all. The jittery, nervous man you walked in with is nowhere to be found as he recounts stories flawlessly and keeps them laughing the whole night. You even learn a few things yourself, like the fact that he’s actually a huge literature buff. You vaguely remember him recognizing the book you were reading at the party you met at but to be honest that whole night is kind of a blur.

Soon enough, you’re being dragged out to the dancefloor by none other than Harry who is grooving around with some of the worst dad dance moves you’ve ever seen. You don’t know what it is about Harry that made you assume he’d be a good dancer but clearly you need to work on your judgement.

“Oh, come on Y/N, what are you, a statue?” He scoffs, grabbing your hands and pulling you to him, swaying your arms and spinning you around.

“I don’t really dance, Harry.” You laugh, nearly tripping on your own feet.

“Tonight, you do,” He nods, grabbing your hips, “Come on sweetheart, let’s see those moves.”

You shake your head, rolling your eyes as his hands move your hips in figure eights, swiveling them around. He moves his own hips opposite yours, grinding into your backside and occasionally pressing a kiss to your cheek or the back of your neck.

“There you go, you’re getting it.” He grins, letting go of your hips and letting you move on your own.

“Sure I am,” You laugh, watching as he throws an imaginary lasso in the air and starts tugging you to him with it, “Really? The lasso, Harry? That is so old school.”

“I prefer the term classic.” He smirks, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you into his chest.

You open your mouth to reply but you’re cut off as the DJ’s voice comes back through the speakers, letting everyone know that the bouquet toss is about to happen at the front of the banquet hall.

“Well, get on up there, babe.” He laughs, nodding his head towards the crowd forming at the front of the room.

“Oh, it’s alright, I don’t really want to-“

“Come on darling, you’ve got to at least try for the bouquet.” He sighs, grabbing your hand and tugging you over to everyone himself.

He leaves you to stand right between Brynn and Heather before seeing himself over to the group of guys standing off to the side. He sends you a wink when he catches you looking back over at him and your cheeks are blushing almost instantly.

You watch as your friend Tiffany is sat on one of the banquet chairs in front of everyone and her new husband Mason makes a whole show of sneaking under her dress to retrieve the garter from her leg. The crowd goes wild when he finally stands up with the garter between his teeth and you find yourself looking over at Harry to see him with his fingers in his mouth, whistling.

Both Tiffany and Mason turn around and suddenly the garter and the bouquet are both in the air. You’re hardly paying any attention to the spectacle until suddenly the bouquet is landing right between you and Heather. She clearly catches it but quickly hands it off to you, shoving it into your unwanting arms.

“Heather, what are you-“

You’re cut off as she nods her head over to the group of guys where Harry is standing at the front of the pack with the white lace garter held above his head. You can’t help but shake your head, biting your lip when your eyes meet his and he raises his eyebrows, shrugging innocently.

“How many people did you have to tackle to get that?” You smirk, both of you crossing the space between the divided groups to stand in front of each other.

“About six,” He shrugs, grinning ear to ear, “A small price to pay of course.”

He leads you over to the chair in the middle of the crowd as the hollering grows louder and when he grabs your hand and brings it to his mouth to kiss it, you take the opportunity to shove him on his ass in the chair and snatch the garter from him yourself. His mouth his hanging open in shock as you hand him the bouquet instead and swing your leg over him, straddling his thigh with your back to him. Suddenly the screams from your friends and the rest of the crowd around you are deafening as the music gets turned up a couple notches and you hold the garter in the air.

His hands find their way onto your hips, but you turn around on his lap, grabbing his hands and folding them behind his head instead, “Hands to yourself, Styles.” You scold and he grins even wider.

You bend over to reach his foot, giving him a perfect view of your ass straddling his thigh and you can hear him suck in a breath. You start to work the garter over his bright yellow Vans just as you start to grind down onto him, swiveling your hips the same way he was moving them earlier on the dancefloor and everyone starts to cheer, egging you on. The friction of his dress pants against your hardly clothed clit makes your thighs shake almost instantly as you continue moving the garter further up his leg, over his knee. His hands suddenly grab your hips, ceasing your movements and you don’t bother snapping at him again, if you keep going, you’re gonna end up coming on his leg.

You stand back up, laughing nervously as you feel your thighs clenching and everyone erupts in a chorus of shouts to which you bow and jokingly thank everyone for coming to the show until you feel Harry’s hand grab yours and tug you away from everyone.

“Harry, what are you-“

You’re cut off as he drags you into the bathroom, checking the few stalls for anyone before locking the door and turning back to you. He moves his hand from resting on his leg over his dress pants and you know exactly what’s wrong when your eyes land on the wet spot across his thigh.

“We’ve got a bit of a situation, sweetheart.” He laughs, clearly more amused by the condition of his pants rather than angry as you previously assumed.

“God, I’m sorry, I didn’t think I was, I didn’t know-“

“Hey, it’s cool,” He says seriously, grabbing your face in his hands, “Are you alright though? You’re obviously fucking soaking down there, love.”

“It’s fine, we can’t-“

“We very well can.” He corrects, his hands moving to grip your ass.

“Harry-“

“Yes sweetheart?” He grins, cutting you off before you can tell him to stop.

You sigh, shaking your head when you can’t fend off the giant smile that wants to spread across your face when you meet his devious smirk any longer, “You wanna get out of here?” You ask finally.

“Yes, god, I thought you’d never ask.” He says eagerly, grabbing your face in his hands and smashing his lips onto yours.

You rush back out to his car, quickly saying your goodbyes before latching onto each other as soon as you’re out of the building. You’re a mess of limbs, grabbing at anything and everything just to get closer to each other. His hands are roaming you over your dress as you stumble over to his car and you push him up against it. Your lips find their way down his neck and he rolls his eyes back in his head, his mind going fuzzy. You reach your hand into the pocket of his slacks and grab his keys, unlocking the car before opening the door and shoving him into the driver seat. You slam the door closed and run around to the other side, collapsing in the seat beside him before climbing over the console and straddling his lap.

“You wanna pick up where we left off, princess?” He grins, his hands latching onto your hips and already moving you against him.

“Harry, I can’t, your pants-“

“Already gotta be washed,” He shrugs, cutting you off, “Let’s make it worth my time, yeah?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes as he bites his lip, staring down at you before grabbing the lever on the side on his chair and leaning it back. His chair is as far back as it can go now, giving you every bit of the space you need while his eyes are nearly glued to your thighs straddled over his own. His hands are cemented to your hips, pushing you down onto him and nearly dragging your barely clothed heat against him, all the way back to the edge of his knee before yanking you right back into his lap.

You’re already on the edge and you can see the tent starting to stand up in Harry’s pants. His eyes are still focused on you, watching your every move as you ride his thigh, your dress now fully bunched up around your waist. You try to detach your mind from the immense pleasure coursing through you and grab at the waistband of his pants, but he stops you almost immediately.

“No, not right now sweetheart.” He grunts, grabbing your hands in his.

“But Harry-“

“God, so stubborn,” He laughs, grabbing you by the chin and tilting your face to meet his, “All the fucking time.”

“I am not-“

“Do you ever shut up?” He jokes, “I want this babe, promise you, want you to get yourself off on just my thigh, okay?”

You know your cheeks are flaming now as he grins that big mischievous, dimpled smile and places his hands back on your hips, this time up under the confines of your dress, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you feel his cold rings brush against you. You laugh as you put one hand down on his thigh to steady yourself as your legs start to shake and come across the thin lace garter. You smirk as you slide your fingers under it, stretching it away from his leg before letting it snap back against him. He ruts against you instinctively, his hips bucking up suddenly and a strangled groan falls past his lips before he can catch it.

No way.

You do it again, snapping it harder and his hand suddenly reaches out, grabbing yours and taking it away from the garter. His eyes meet yours, his pupils blown out and wild and that’s when he finds your mouth. You sigh into his mouth, content with his mouth and hands roaming you, the coil in your stomach tightening with each flick of your hips.

Harry is on fire beneath you, he’s sure. His lips are moving slowly and heatedly on yours, his tongue dipping into your mouth when it feels right and making you grind down onto his thigh even harder. He was joking earlier about making it worth his time to wash his pants but he’s certainly getting more than he bargained for now. He can feel your wetness soaking though his slacks, drenching his bare skin but he won’t dare tell you that. His cock is fully hard in his boxers, just about screaming at him to do something, his subconscious is flabbergasted, the devil on his shoulder is reminding him that you’re one layer away from being naked down there and ready for him to fuck you senseless, all he’d have to do is yank down your panties and move you over a few inches, but he pushes all of that to the back of his mind and revels in the sight of you instead. He wants to see you without the distraction of his own pleasure, he wants to see you get yourself off without worrying about catering to him as well.

“Harry, fuck, I can’t,” You stutter, your voice faltering as pleasure rakes through you and your hands find his shoulders, in need of something solid to grip onto, “Fucking hell.”

He’s studying every detail of your face as you come undone. There’s so much blood flowing in the opposite direction he’s actually starting to feel lightheaded. He’s not sure how much more he can take as you writhe above him, desperately grinding yourself down on him. He lifts his leg up, holding you in place and adding some extra pressure. You’re gasping loudly when he does so, almost falling forward and collapsing against his chest as your whole body tenses.

“Come on love, almost there.” He coaxes, keeping your hips moving for you.

Your face twists up, your mouth falling open, your head tilting back as his name tumbles from your mouth in breathy whispers and he reaches forward, grabbing you around the waist so you don’t fall backwards on the car horn. He pulls you into his chest, burying your face into his shoulder while you’re still heaving desperately for air. He’s grinning like an idiot, tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning over to kiss your pouted lips. You shift in his lap, trying to lean up to meet his mouth again but your knee brushes the bulge in his pants, and he chokes a bit, letting out a throaty groan and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Sorry,” You chuckle, “Want me to-“

“Nope,” He quips, lifting you off of his lap and setting you back down in the passenger seat, sitting his chair back up and starting the car, “Want you in my bed princess, not the backseat of my car.”

As soon as you pull up in front of his apartment, he’s shutting the car off and getting out. You meet him in front of the door, and he doesn’t waste any time grabbing his keys and shoving them in the lock, pressing you up against it.

“Bed. Now.” He says roughly, meeting your eyes and you swallow thickly as he pushes you inside and kicks the door closed behind him.

The edge to his voice reminds you of the absolute pool in your panties and suddenly you’re yanking him to you by the collar of his hardly buttoned shirt and shoving his suit jacket off his shoulders. He’s kicking off his Vans, stumbling over himself as his mouth moves with yours and he tugs his slacks down. He breaks away from your mouth for less than a second to drag your dress off and toss it behind him before capturing your mouth with his once again and walking you backwards until your knees hit the bed.

He’s about to push you against the bed and climb on top of you when you spin the two of you around, throwing him against the mattress instead. His eyes are wild and filled with anticipation as he leans back on his elbows, dressed in nothing but his fucking Spiderman boxers.

“Y/N, what are you-“

“Do you ever shut up?” You mock, using his words from earlier.

That devilish smirk finds its way onto his face as you climb on top of him, straddling him for the third time today. You thread your fingers through his hair and latch your lips back onto his, tugging his hair roughly and eliciting a groan from his lips. You do it a second time and he pulls away from your lips, wincing and gasping.

“You like that, huh?” You grin, “When it hurts?”

His eyes flutter open and his pupils are fully dilated, his irises blown out like you’ve never seen. God he’s loving this. Your fingers trace over the sparrows inked on his chest and he’s nearly shaking, you know he’s just about ready to burst after what happened in the car.

“Is that why you’re all tatted up?” You ask innocently, grinding your hips into his.

“Maybe,” He groans, his voice catching in his throat, “It feels good, the pain.”

You shake your head as you push him the rest of the way down until he’s flat against the mattress. He’s still breathing heavily, gasping every time you touch him and nearly growling as he writhes against the sheets when you finally grab him over his boxers.

“Please god let me fuck you princess, please.” He begs, bucking his hips off the bed to meet your hand.

You can’t help but laugh at his pleading state as you slide his boxers down his legs, your eyes growing wide when you realize the wet spot from his slacks soaked through to them as well. He’s still grabbing at you while you finish undressing yourself, making a show out of easing your soaking panties from out of your slit and dragging them down your legs before undoing the clasp of your bra and flinging it behind you as well.

He hisses as you take him in your hand, leaning over to grab a condom from his bedside table and rolling it over him painstakingly slowly. You tease him, running his tip just over your entrance and the strangled noise that comes pouring out of his mouth is enough to get you off without him even laying a hand on you.

“Fuck, so good,” He pants, his hands thrashing as he tries to decide where to put them, bouncing around from your hips to your thighs to fisting the sheets, “Shit, I can’t, jesus I’m lightheaded.”

It’s so different seeing Harry in a state like this where he can’t even compile a complete sentence. He’s always the one sending you into a frenzy, always spitting out some crude remark that makes your thighs squeeze together, always so eloquently calm, cool, and collected, now reduced to a writhing mess of whimpering underneath you.

You finally give in and slide onto him, your mouth falling open when he glides in so easily, instantly covered in your arousal. He bucks his hips up to fuck into you, his knuckles white as he fists the sheets.

“B-Bleeding hell,” He sputters, squeezing his eyes closed, “God so fucking warm.”

You release the sheets from his hands and put them on your waist instead, wishing he’d wrap his hands around you that tight. He delivers on your wish, digging his fingertips into your skin as he holds you in place and bucks his hips up to meet yours, clearly not satisfied with the pace you’re setting.

You thread your fingers back through his hair and yank harshly, eliciting a moan from his parted lips. That stupid grin finds its way back onto his face as he recovers from it, his eyes fluttering back open.

“Do it again,” He nods, his hands moving from your hips to knead your ass, “Harder.”

Your thighs squeeze around his hips as the words come out of his mouth and you know he’s onto you when he bites his lip as you tug his hair once again. You lurch forward suddenly when his hand meets your ass with a smack.

“Shit, sorry, I thought you’d-“

“Shut the fuck up and do that again.” You pant, cutting him off and leaning forward to give him better access.

“Hang on,” He breathes, easing you off him to which you whine in complaint, “Come on princess, you’re gonna love it.” He grins wickedly.

He shoves you on all fours, yanking your ass back into the air and suddenly you’re thrown back to the first night you met in the upstairs bedroom of that stupid frat party. He leans over you, biting the back of your shoulder as he slides back into you and both of you suck in breaths as he fills you back up.

“Christ, H.” You hiss, reveling in the way you can feel him so much deeper this way.

He doesn’t reply, simply picking up the pace and rubbing his ring covered hands over the swell of your ass. You’re waiting just about as patiently as you can, wiggling your ass in the air and trying to get him to make good on his promise.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He laughs, pinching your ass playfully as he carefully spins his rings around on his fingers, making sure all of them are facing the palm of his hand instead.

You don’t expect it when it comes, the sudden smack and the delicious sting burning your skin afterwards. You lurch forwards, grinning and begging him to do it again to which he obliges, littering your ass with pretty pink handprints and darker purple bruises in the vague shapes of his initials.

“God, you’re fucking ruining me darling.” He groans, thrusting into you again just as his hand meets your backside and you bite your lip to stifle the sounds threatening to come out of your mouth.

A little heart followed by H S are imprinted all over your sore ass cheeks when he finally collapses against your back with a shout of your name. He kisses the back of your shoulder, gently massaging your stinging ass as you come down from your high, peeling your eyes back open and turning over to meet his gaze.

“You okay?” He asks nervously, taking in the state of your backside.

“Way better than okay.” You laugh, grabbing him by the face and pulling you down to him.

Your lips meet with a smack and you can feel him smiling against your mouth as he lays back down on top of you. You feel the harsh contrast of his rings as his hands roam your skin and your cheeks flush.

You pull away from his lips, quirking your eyebrow up as you meet his eyes, “This doesn’t mean I have to start calling you daddy or anything, does it?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m opposed to the idea.” He shrugs, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“God, fuck off!” You laugh, shoving him off of you and smacking him with a pillow.

Hope you guys enjoyed, I had so much fun writing this honestly I might have to make this a reoccurring chat night thing here on my lil blog

#can't believe I somehow made this shit work ??#this really happened lmao #requests are always open #harry #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles writing

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