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littlemisslipbalm · 3 years

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I live in the neighbourhood Part 2

Part 2 is hereeeeee YAY! There will be a part 3 eventually :) I hope you enjoy and as well lmk you loved it with reblogs and messages, they truly make my day and y’know do it for other writers too, trust me we all love it. this fucking gif still gets me,,, but anyway there is so much i want to talk about in this part its killing me so plssss message me about it aghghghggh idk what else to say

um this part is filled with: yn not knowing cars, harry being a dork, almost kisses and kisses , but daddy i love him, the crown, gardening, and so much more mwah

Read Part 1

Word Count: 10.8k | Warnings: minor anxiety attack, swearing?, drinking, think that’s it (some more taylor swift)

“You want me to what?!” She feels herself all but scream.

He sighs in exasperation and ruffles his freshly cut curls. He can’t help the smile that grows shortly after his sigh. Y/N’s reaction on the other end of the line has sent him into a fit of giggles that he has to suppress quickly when she sends a warning ‘Harry’.

“It’s simple, love,” He twists to lay on his stomach. “I left you the spare to my place. Just go in, find my car keys and then drive to the airport and snap me up!”

She sighs now over the phone as she contemplates whether she could truly go into Harry’s home and then drive his surely expensive car to the airport and get him. It was something a friend would do for another friend, especially one who was a neighbour and especially a neighbour who had nothing better to do on a Friday night.

“Alright,” she says finally, “I’ll be there on Friday, text me the flight number.”

She grins when she hears a little “woo” from Harry. Even if he’s smiling half a world away it still made her happy to know it was because of her.

They had mostly texted each other randomly over the past three weeks while Harry had been away in California. She told him about her job, which he insisted was endlessly interesting and she countered that he found it interesting because it was new to him and eventually the grandeur would wear off. She loved her job, of course, it was for a public relations company that dealt with various London based companies and she was on multiple accounts with various clients ranging from tech companies to music artists. But she didn’t think it was as interesting as Harry made it out to be.

Harry told her about the filming of the movie and about everyone on set. He told her how he bought everyone on the crew his new ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirts and joked how he’d have to get her one as well to match her other one. She noted that one of Harry’s love languages was very obviously gift giving. He was so generous and she really admired that from him considering how successful he was. Her father was an accountant so she knew how rich people could be about their money sometimes, hiding it away in different entities just so their money can make money instead of spending it on things that matter.

He said everyone was nice and amazing overall, he gushed about people’s performances, but he’d always end with how much he missed London. He liked LA, he would assure her, but then he’d say how it wasn’t home-y at all. London was home to him. She would smile whenever he said that because she felt that way too, even though she wasn’t originally from the city, it just felt like home to her.

One night, he even confided in her his loneliness while on set. He wondered that maybe it was because he had no real roots in LA, nothing to go home to - no home to go to. She tried to reassure him that he wasn’t alone and all he had to do was ask and any person from the movie would love to spend time with him. He nodded along to her words, but they both knew he was being overly kind when he said everyone was nice. Not everyone in Hollywood was nice and certainly not everyone in Hollywood had substance. He searched for a month and seldom found time where he was truly relaxed with others and enjoying himself. More than ever he was excited to return home to London to say the least.

“Harry!”

She jumped out of her seat and into his arms, her cheek brushing his as she leaned in. He stood just on the sidewalk by his car that she had gingerly driven into the city and to the airport at 9pm on a Friday night in November.

The car was a dark blue vintage convertible, Mercedes-Benz, she was pretty sure but she really was completely clueless when it came to cars. Harry had taken her call right before his flight took off and walked her through finding the car. He had two garages and one garage had two cars and the other had only one. She had gone on her own and found the first garage with the two cars and seen a lime green tiny little vintage convertible and a cherry red vintage non-convertible and became distraught that there was no navy car. When Harry picked up the phone he had been greeted with some yelling about how he must be colorblind if he thought one of these cars was navy and he had laughed heartily before explaining that there was another garage. She had huffed and traipsed through his house until she came upon the other garage. When she saw the blue car she was equally annoyed and elated. “Thank fucking god,” she muttered over the line and Harry had laughed, but found himself cut off when the line went dead.

He smiled and groaned slightly at her tight embrace. He was happy to be back in England after a month away and he was happy to have her in his arms even if he didn’t know whether he should admit that.

“It’s good to see you,” he musters and he feels her smile into his neck. The only fabric between her face and him being his thin waffle knit long sleeve. He could feel her breath softly against him. He pets at the back of her hair, “Thank you for coming to get me, I know it might have been a bit much to ask.”

“Don’t mention it,” she pulls back from his embrace and smiles happily up at him, “What are friends for?”

She brushes her hands at his shoulders and then moves to start putting his luggage in his car. He had two suitcases and a backpack with him, but he had told her he had more stuff sent over that would just be sent simply to his home. She had texted back a shocked face emoji when he said that, unaware that he traveled with that much stuff.

“Right,” Harry affirms, twitching into action at the word ‘friends’. He felt like they had gotten so close over the last month even though they had only talked over the phone for that time. Seeing her in person now felt like she had been his friend for years.

Once in the car, Y/N settles back in the driver’s seat, not wanting Harry to have to drive after the horrible flight from California to London. A direct flight was just about as bad as layovers in Ohio or Utah. She wasn’t sure what it was like in First Class, but she still knew it was rough being on an aircraft for 10 plus hours.

Harry closes his eyes beside her after a moment. He had watched her settle in the car with his head against the headrest, his eyes drooping as they regarded her movements. She was so sweet to him and he nodded when she asked if he wanted his seat warmer on.

“You’re too good to me, pet,” he whispers, head lulling once again.

She glances at him swiftly as she pulls out of the loading area. He smiled contentedly before drifting off to sleep.

She turned the music low and silently drove them back to Sherwood Avenue. When she pulled the car into Harry’s garage, she sat there for a few moments as Harry softly breathed beside her. She had hoped he’d wake up upon their arrival so she wouldn’t have to wake him, but alas he was sound asleep.

She watched him, he was so quiet in this moment. So unlike how he normally was with her, talking about everything and nothing almost constantly. She liked that side of him. But she had to admit something about him this peaceful was just as entrancing.

The flutter of his eyelids brought her out of her reverie and she was grateful for the dim lighting in the garage because when Harry’s eyes focused on her she was blushing.

He quirks a brow and his smirk begins to settle back on his lips. “Home,” he raspily mumbles and begins to shift in his sea.

She nods and smiles softly, shaking off all the thoughts had been going through her mind.

“We’re back,” she affirms. “Let’s get you inside, sleepy boy.”

Harry shakes off his slumber with a rub at his right eye and a run through his hair. He climbs out of the car. She throws him the keys at his silent instruction of an extended hand and an eyebrow raise. She knows she read him correctly when he smiles sweetly and travels to the boot of his car to begin unloading the suitcases he was in charge of.

She follows him and rounds the end of the car, preparing to take some of his luggage.

“You don’t need to carry anything, it’s fine, dove.”

His voice is extra gravelly still and she would’ve complained about the new nicknames if he hadn’t sounded so hot. She didn’t think she had any feelings for Harry other than friendship, she was almost sure of it. Sure he was attractive, but ever since she actually got to know him she hadn’t thought of him in a way that could be considered more than friendship. He made her blush, but he was just inherently smooth. It wasn’t because he was specifically flirting with her.

Except right now, the whole reuniting of it all paired with his voice and his sleepy eyes that she imagined likely looked similar to his bedroom eyes. She was having a hard time seeing that line of friendship.

“No!” She protested, tugging the backpack he was attempting to carry along with the two suitcases from him.

He sighs and sets down one of the cases, “Y/N, you’ve already been too good to me by picking me up. I’m not making you do any more physical labor with any of my heavy shit.”

“It can’t be that heavy,” she pulls the backpack on and she resists the slight step back her body wants to take from the weight of the backpack.

“Give it back,” he says, sounding concerned for her.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it, Har,” she smiles and gives a little twirl in his large garage, the backpack making her look a bit smaller.

He twists his lips trying to ward off a smile. He wasn’t annoyed, moreso he was delighted by her antics. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and kiss her.

“Oh you got it? Do you?” His amusement betrays his British accent, making him sound like he did at 19. He places the other case on the ground and walks quickly to stand right in front of her.

She squeals as he gets so close, his nose just about brushes hers. He’s smiling sinisterly as he takes hold of the straps of the backpack and tries to tug them off of her. Yet, she holds on tight to the front of them, laughing happily at their silliness and causing her nose to brush against his.

Their eyes are strong on each other, watching their every move. And they settle a little, laughter dying out, breathing evening out. Her hands are still strong on the front straps of the backpack, while Harry’s are strong on the top of her shoulders, wrapped around the backpack’s straps as well.

He licks his lips, feeling especially interested in seeing how hers finally taste. Right as he is about to lean in, brush his lips against hers, she pulls from his grasp, swinging away from him and dashing to the door that leads to the rest of his house.

“C’mon, it’s freezing out here!” She twists the nob of the door and beckons him.

He huffs, shaking himself out of the daydream he had almost made reality. He wanted to kick himself, he felt like a kid. He needed to get a grip.

“I’m right behind ya’,” he called, nodding his head to tell her to go before him.

Her smile sears in his mind like the shine on a brand new coin as she flicks on the light in the entryway. The light comes flooding in the doorway and around her. For that quick moment only she is illuminated in his eyes. She shines for him and he wonders if it’s possible to drown in light.

Next Thursday

“Crown came out on Sunday!” Harry said as he opened the door, knowing it was Y/N who had knocked.

“Had no clue from the ominous text you sent, ‘come over, i promise popcorn *crown emoji*’,” she laughs and enters the house and holds out a bag of chocolate chips.

“I already have it queued up and popcorn’s popping!” He says happily and takes the chocolate chips to put in little dishes.

They walk into the kitchen and she’s still in awe of his home. It was clean and sleek but with all the hominess still easily found if you looked a little closer. Tea cloths hanging over the ovens’ handles that had interlocking G’s - a facet of Gucci she could only assume. Various paintings of different scenes, one a Japanese store front and another a Blue Jay perched easily on a thin branch.

There were unique painted tiles that he must use for hot plates and a single fancy floral mug tucked next to an espresso machine and just little things that she was keen on exploring at some point, but Harry caught her attention.

“Adult slushie?” He inquires with an arched brow.

“Does the slushie perform exotic dances?” She asks jokingly.

Harry rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Sometimes those that drink it do.”

She reddens at his implication. He then looks at her seriously and she regards him with utter delight. Her eyes twinkle as he moves about his home with ease.

“If you make it,” she confirms, in awe that he would make cocktails on this random occasion.

He smiles at her and begins his final tasks, checking to make sure the popcorn doesn’t burn and grabs the ingredients he needs to make the drink he was thinking of.

She stands beside him, eyes constantly wondering between his moving physique and his home.

“Did you know I know Emma?” Harry asks, looking up from the blender. She notices how his neck muscles twist and strain as he gazes at her. He was wearing a white t-shirt with ‘But Daddy I Love Him’ in a red vintage font and a black cardigan with different colorful objects on it, mostly flowers, it said ‘Spaceboy’ on the back and she had smiled when she saw it when he led her to the kitchen.

She hums, her gaze focused on him. His green eyes flicker across her face and down her body, simply taking into account her outfit. Pink sweatpants and a long sleeve with a drawing of a cute little clown holding two guns up at the air. While it might have sounded like a weird thing to have printed on a shirt, he found it fun, he was always appreciative of different clothing. Of course she had a gun-slinging clown shirt that she managed to make sweet, he thought.

“Fascinating connections of the rich and famous,” she muses.

“Yeah, well, Susan - Harry Lambert,” he corrects his friend’s nickname, catching himself, “he styles us both so we’ve met a few times. She’s really lovely.”

“That’s pretty epic,” she says and wanders closer to Harry, wanting a better look at his progress on the drinks.

Her hand rests on the countertop next to the two glasses he intends to place the ‘slushies’ into. The liquor he used just said “Blue” and she wondered what blue would taste like as he pours the glasses now. The consistency of them being relatively slushie like, she was impressed.

Her smile gives it away and Harry eyes her, “What’re you smiling at?”

“I’m admiring your bartending skills,” she meets his eyes and she realizes how rather close they’ve gotten as he leans slightly over her and the countertop.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says playfully, “I take my mixology very seriously so I don’t want any praise until you’ve actually tried it.”

He holds the glass up to her and instead of grabbing it from him, she simply guides it to her lips. Her hand lightly grasping at the soft fabric of his cardigan. She parts her lips and takes a small sip, maintaining eye contact with Harry.

When the icey liquid passes her lips, her eyes flutter shut at the sweetness of the drink, it was like candy but with a light kick at the end from the alcohol. She loved it and when she opened her eyes again she took the drink from Harry’s strong hand and took another sip.

“This is dangerously good,” she finally says and Harry grins.

“Fantastic! Now we’re ready to start the show,” and he leads them into his living room that is just as big or bigger than his kitchen. A large screen television and a turquoise velvet couch are the main attractions of the room, at least what Y/N is focused on. There’s more art and posters up in this room, a lovely round coffee table and gorgeous vintage rug.

“Wait, Susan?” she circles back to Harry’s earlier comment about Emma Corin and their shared stylist.

Harry smiles and sits next to her comfortably, placing the drinks on coasters and the other various items on the coffee table.

“It’s my nickname for Harry since we’re both...Harry. Just felt silly calling each other Harry and Sue and Susan, they just fit so well.”

She nods, “I see.” But she didn’t really get it. She’d never had a friend where they only called each other a different name from their own, maybe a nickname that she would occasionally call them, but never one so ingrained that she would call them it when referring to them to someone else who surely didn’t know them and wouldn’t know them by the different name. Not that she really knew who Harry Lambert was in the first place, but it still made more sense than Susan. She shook it off just as another quirk of Harry being who he was.

They settle in for the show and they love talking through it, which Y/N was happy that Harry liked to talk during shows as well. She hated when people shushed her during movies and shows when she had something to say. They commented on the fashion and how wild some of the stuff was. Thankfully, as well, even Harry thought some of the things the royals did were absurdly lavish.

“He is so hot,” she finally says when Prince Charles is on the screen for another time and she can’t keep it in anymore, “How could they cast him for Prince Charles, they are far too kind.”

“Josh?” Harry questions, glancing over at his friend curled up on the couch next to him. She had her feet tucked beneath her legs and had her body on its side while staring at the television.

“Don’t tell me you know him too?” She says, taking her focus off the TV to look at Harry, a chocolate chip landing in her mouth once she finished talking.

Their blue slushies had been finished and the popcorn was half eaten. She was pretty sure they were on the second episode already.

He laughs, “No, but Emma says he’s very nice...He is rather attractive.”

That makes her smile, the both of them finding an actor attractive. It felt like Harry was like one of her friends from home, chatting about boys, something she really didn’t do anymore.

“Maybe you can introduce us,” she laughs, her head nudging at Harry’s shoulder beside her.

She doesn’t notice Harry’s lack of mirth at her joke as she turns her attention back to the screen, re-immersing herself in the plot. He twitches slightly uncomfortably at the thought of him introducing her to someone she might be interested in romantically.

“Why not,” he says half-heartedly and he hopes she doesn’t notice his tone.

The next day was Friday and she had the day off as per usual.

After three episodes of the Crown, she and Harry had decided to call it a night. He had offered that she could spend the night so she didn’t have to walk home after she had refused to let him walk her across the street. However, she declined, saying she didn’t like leaving Rori alone at night, especially since he was still getting used to the new house. Harry had understood but she could tell he was saddened by her leaving.

She had decided to plant some flowers in her front yard, hoping to liven it up. She had bought some plants at the local flower shop, pansies and aster thinking that purple and gold would look lovely together. She planned to set to work with little experience, but plenty of intention. Rori was outside with her for moral support, prancing through the growing grass and nibbling at the shrubs, more like a bunny than a dog.

Her mother had gifted her gardening tools a long time ago and their entire family had laughed because they knew Y/N didn’t have a green anything, most definitely not a green thumb. Today she had grabbed them and the plants and had placed it all in front of her planters. Then she sat there and went on her phone, scrolling through it mindlessly. She had no idea what she was doing or where to start so getting distracted was easy.

“Need any help?”

Her head turns and she slides away her phone with a sigh, knowing exactly who had just kindly asked to lend a hand.

Harry squints down at her and in this moment she is especially aware of just how tall Harry actually is. Normally she notices his height and thinks ‘yeah he’s tall’, but right now he towers over her. His hair is catching the surprising fall sun and causing glints of gold to radiate off him. His eyes are especially light right now and she feels oddly unnerved by their color, the hazy mint of some kind of predator. He is such a presence and she thought she had finally gotten used to him being in her life, but in this moment she is taken aback. She shakes her head after a moment too long of staring up at him.

“Hi,” she breathes and stands up from her sitting position. “I was just starting to do some planting, and I don’t know if you can tell but I have no gardening skills whatsoever.”

She gestures to her set up and Harry turns his gaze from her to the plants and smiles. He had been coming back from his morning jog and instead of entering his gate, he walked through hers. He looks at everything and reaches down to pet Rori when he comes running up happily to his friend.

“Well, it looks like a good start. Aster is an interesting thing to plant…” He kneels down to start digging up the soil in the planters.

She kneels beside him and watches him attentively. “I wanted chrysanthemums, they’re one of my favorites. But they were out, so it will have to do.”

“It will do perfectly,” he looks up at her from his work, “you wouldn’t have picked it if it wasn’t amazing.”

She makes a small smile at his statement, but doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes up mimicking his actions with the soil.

“Do you garden a lot?” Her voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the quiet that had fallen over them.

“Not much anymore, I don’t really have the time, but I used to with my mum.”

She hums and scratches behind Rori’s ears absentmindedly when he looks curiously at what they’re doing.

They work silently, only talking intermittently. At one point, she grabs them glasses of water from the kitchen, mostly for Harry because he’s actually working up a sweat planting her garden. Harry hums random songs that are on his mind and she wishes he would sing for her, but she would never dare ask him to.

They talk about the Crown and how much they loved all the clothes in it last night and where the plot is going since they know the true history it’s based on. Harry offers British insight into the Royals that she had never thought about and they even venture into British politics which she admits she never really thought about since usually the US politics is far more in the spotlight.

He talks about his views on politics and she gives hers, even stranger though they even venture further into usually rocky territory and discuss religion. She is very interested by what Harry has to say about religion, his answers are both completely expected and unexpected. Something she’s noticed about Harry with her is that she always seems to be surprised by what he says, but it still manages to make complete sense after a moment.

“I’m going back to LA tomorrow,” Harry muses as he regards one of the pansies, like he’s almost staring it straight in the eye.

“Oh?” She turns to face him.

She stops her aimless moving about of the dirt. She had mostly been playing with the dirt while he did the majority of the work. She just didn’t enjoy it. Harry had definitely made the activity palatable. She’d have to tell him she would have likely given up an hour ago had he not been there.

He sighs and sets the pansy into the hole in the soil he had made for it. “More shooting for the movie, I’ll be gone for another month.”

“Wow…I think saying goodbye to you is just going to get harder and harder.” She looks away, her arms crossing over herself instinctively when the wind blows just a little too hard.

Harry looks at her now and sees her curling in on herself and he wants to hug her, but they weren’t like that. Instead he places a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it slowly up and down trying to offer her some warmth.

“I think we’ve made enough progress today. It’s starting to get cold, hm?”

She looks at him now and nods, her hand moving up and capturing his in hers. Like they had when Harry walked her home after his game, their fingers twist and turn around each other. Their eyes shying between each other’s faces and interlocked hands.

She springs to her feet after a couple quiet minutes of dodging eye contact and simply enjoying the feel of one another against each other.

“I should thank you for all this help,” she starts and Harry gets up to stand, beginning to say there is no need for a thank you for what he did.

“No, no.” She stops him, “I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without your help and I took up all of your day, practically.” She takes hold of his hands now to examine the dirt that has managed to cover them since he was convinced that she should wear the gloves her mother gave her. “You should come over tonight and I’ll cook you dinner. I’m a much better cook than I am a gardener.”

Harry looks at her quietly, his eyes blinking slowly. Like he’s basking in the small movements she’s making on his hands. She traces the little cross that straddles his thumb and pointer finger on his left hand.

“I’ll make sure to bring dessert then.” He smiles and tilts his head to the right and a little forward towards her. She gazes up at him softly. “I might even bring something extra special.”

She raises her brows, “A special treat from Harry Styles himself. I’ll be anxiously awaiting your return then.” She taunts him only slightly because what he had said just about brought her to her knees. The way his smile had shifted to a smirk and how his voice has grown quiet and low, it just felt very intimate.

Harry returns at half past six, as requested by Y/N. He was freshly showered and cologned and she had never found a man more attractive than in that moment. Before he came over he told her he was dressing nice and she had no idea what that might mean with him. But when she saw him, she understood.

What it meant was a crisp blue big collared Gucci dress shirt unbuttoned almost half way down his chest revealing his ever present cross and fitted high waisted brown trousers. His fresh haircut meant for the 50’s slicked back with pieces beginning to fall about just perfectly. No belt, no cufflinks, and no suit coat. Instead of a coat he had on a jacket that was similar to her giraffe jacket he had borrowed all those days ago. His own was comfortably settled over his shoulders and it was obviously made of fabrics far nicer than hers and wasn’t fraying in any place.

He posed in her doorway and even gave a twirl at which time Y/N laughed happily. It looked amazing on him, she had no idea how her jacket had been the thing that started this all.

“How do you like it?” He asks seriously. “Does it look alright?”

“It looks perfect on you, Har. Is that the extra special surprise?”

He smirks smugly at her compliment and comes into the home, greeting Rori quickly before following her back into the kitchen where she was still cooking.

“Oh no,” he says and places a bag filled with a bottle of red wine and a pint of her favorite ice cream on the counter (and the surprise tucked neatly at the bottom of the bag).

She looks at him quizzically as he begins to take the items out of the bag.

“There’s one last thing in there,” he points to the bag casually, while putting the ice cream in her freezer. “Do ya’ mind grabbing it for me, dove?”

She rolls her eyes and reaches into the bag. Her hand retrieves a magazine from the bottom of the bag and when she flips it over to the front side, a gasp escaped her lips.

“Harry! Oh my god!” Her hand goes to her mouth as she takes in the cover.

A US Vogue magazine with Harry on the front of it. He’s blowing up a balloon in the photo and he looks beautiful. His skin is flawless and his hair is luscious and flowing a little longer than he kept it now due to the movie.

“I’m a Vogue cover model now, eh?” He asks, looking on apprehensively as she begins to gingerly flick her fingers through the magazine’s pages.

“This is the surprise?” She looks up from the page with him and Gemma sitting side by side.

Harry nods and watches her absentmindedly trace his face on the page.

“Do you like the pictures?” His voice is soft and almost timid?

“Of course!” She exclaims, not wanting to let any doubts pass through Harry’s mind. “Is this what you were doing up in Scotland a couple months ago, right before we became friends and you said you wanted to surprise me with something top secret?”

He nods again, his grin creeping onto his face as she stares at the photo of him in the cover photo’s outfit where you can see the entire dress.

“I want that dress...did they let you keep it?” She continues flicking through the pages lightly and glancing at Harry across from her. The dinner forgotten for the moment.

“It’s Gucci, I didn’t keep it, but I’m sure I could call Susan and get you one ordered,” he replies easily, leaning over the counter to watch the magazine.

She scoffs, “I can’t afford a Gucci gown for no reason...AND before you try to say you’ll pay for it, I would never accept such a gift and I am so for real about that, Harry.”

He waves his hands out in front of him as if to say he’d never suggest such a thing even though they both knew he’d buy it for her in a heartbeat.

“These pants…” she mutters, eyes now fixed on the trousers Harry is wearing in a specific photo in the magazine. They’re tan with a darker stripe on the side of them but the most intriguing part is all of the different drawings on it that seemed to be all related to Harry.

“They’re fab, no?” He quirks a brow at her, his face still holding an apprehensive grin like she’ll take back her praise at a moment’s notice.

“So fab,” she echoes. “Are they bespoke?” Her question has a hint of sarcasm dripping behind it, knowing by now Harry was notorious for custom-made items.

“What gave it away?” He wiggles his brows.

Her eyes flicker to meet his and she sees they’ve ended up face to face once again. It seemed to happen too often with one another. She settles the magazine down and stands up straight. She couldn’t allow herself to indulge in the proximity of his inviting lips. The proximity of his warmth that had seemed to seep into all facets of her life in the last two months or so. It was wonderful and warm, but it wasn’t hers. She shared him with so many other people and she couldn’t get carried away with him because tomorrow he’d be gone.

“That really is amazing Harry. I’m very proud of you, but if you don’t want a burnt dinner, I need to start paying attention to what I’m cooking.” She turns away from him and she quickly takes a palm to swipe beneath her eye, collecting the stray liquid that somehow fell from her eye. Funny thing, she wasn’t cooking with onions.

Harry doesn’t notice the movement, simply sighing that she turned from him yet again. He ran a hand through his hair, further tousling the once coiffed hairdo and then twisted his ‘H’ ring around his finger before settling on a bar stool to flip through the magazine and watch her cook.

“When does the magazine come out?” She calls as she stirs the sauce that she’d be pouring over their spaghetti squash once it was finished baking.

“Next week, They’ll release the story online and then I’ll be hitting shelves,” he muses, reading a different story in the magazine, not particularly interesting in himself.

“I’m sure you’ll be flying off those shelves the second you’re placed down.” She laughs at her joke and Harry rubs his lips with his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully.

“You think so?” His eyes sparkle with mischief at his question.

She turns her head, an open-mouthed grin already on her face, a slight scoff falling from her mouth, “Oh c’mon, you know so. I think you’re one of the most loved men in the world and people fall more and more in love each year.” She almost added ‘and I don’t blame them’ but she refrained thankfully.

“Most loved...I like that. Such an interesting way to put it.”

“I mean, you’ve been famous for what? Ten years now? That’s a long time and I don’t think you’re going anywhere...At this point it’s not about how big your celebrity star is, it’s your level of belovedness and I think that level is quite high.” She comments on something about Harry they never talked too much of. Sometimes they talked about him knowing famous people and about the work he had to fly off to do, but never the specific fame of it all. She didn’t really think Harry liked to talk about.

She didn’t have much of an opinion on it, it didn’t matter to her whether Harry was a famous multi-talented big-C celebrity or he was a nobody with a random job. As long as he was still her neighbour she would never complain. He made her so happy and maybe if he hadn’t been famous he wouldn’t be the way that he was so she would never say it was a nuisance. It just came along with him.

“Well...like I said, it’s a lovely way to put it. So, thank you for that.”

He stands up now, forgetting the magazine and rounding the counter to find a cork for the wine seeing that Y/N was doing the final touches on their food.

They eat dinner across from each other at her modest-sized dinner table. Harry slips his giraffe coat off and rolls up his sleeves to allow him to “really dig in” to the dinner she made for them. Maybe some footsy occurs beneath the table but neither of them would ever admit to it so did it really happen? Just feet moving randomly and happening to rub against one another every so often.

After dinner and a bottle of wine, the two of them join Rori in the living room where he’s curled up on one of the throw pillows. Y/N runs back to the kitchen to scoop them ice cream and whips of two Moscow Mules to go with it because she had brought up how when she usually goes home for the holidays, her and her sister always have a competition of who can make the most unique but best tasting Moscow Mule. Harry had said how he’d love to be there one day for that and she had blushed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear from the comment before taking a large gulp of wine. Since that wasn’t possible right now, her tipsy mind had decided that the next best thing was to make some basic ones right now.

“I bring a Mule and an ice cream,” she says airly, playing like a royal herself, as she holds them out to Harry.

He laughs softly and accepts them graciously, doing a slight head bow to her. Before he can say anything she’s a flash of plaid and red as she runs back for her own ice cream and drink. He had been complimenting her plaid pants with golden bees on them all night and asked her where she got them, teasing that they must be Gucci, but all she would say is that he couldn’t have them to go make a copy of this time.

She re-enters the room and dims the lights with her hip. Then she settles beside him, clinking her glass with him and they both take their first sip.

“Hmmm,” Harry hums after he tastes the cocktail, “I like it.”

“Moscow Mules are a favorite with my family,” she muses, flicking through the television to get them set up to watch the Crown again.

“Maybe I should meet them and thank them for bestowing such a good favorite unto their daughter?” Harry asks and she laughs and rolls her eyes. Questions of meeting family when they were just friends didn’t need a response. Right?

They spoon ice cream into their mouths as the show begins and they murmur comments to one another throughout the episode. They idly pet Rori sometimes as he moves randomly around the room trying to find the place he likes most. Once Harry’s done with his ice cream, Rori thinks his chest is the best place to be and Y/N can’t help but snap a quick photo of it.

“Not quite as handsome without the dress, but it’ll do,” she sighs and snuggles into Harry’s side. Her hand reaches up to scratch at Rori which then leaves her arm wrapped around Harry when her dog inexplicably leaves to go to bed a few minutes later.

He was an awfully good wingman Harry would easily admit at a much later date.

They stay cuddled casually with one another for the entirety of two more episodes and they realize they’re more than halfway done with the season. A yawn from Y/N cues to Harry that he should suggest they pause for the night. She agrees easily, her head nuzzling into his strong shoulder for a little while.

Harry takes the remote from her and turns off the television before flicking on the side table turquoise glass-blown lamp.

“Can I put some music on?” He whispers in her ear, already knowing the answer, but waiting for her to nod her head. She obliges and he slowly slides her onto the couch beneath them. Then he begins padding around her house to find her speaker.

“Arrow Through Me” by Harry’s all time role model Paul McCartney’s second band Wings begins to play through the speakers. What a fucking moutful.

She perks up at the music and sits up straighter on her couch. Her smile grows as Harry shakes his hips a little and moves to the beat of the song as he makes his way back over to the couch. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead of words ringing loud through the room, it's the sound of a phone buzzing from somewhere between a few cushions on the couch

“Oh shit...shit, shit, shit,” she awakens herself out of her daze with her profanity. Attempting to find her phone rather haphazardly, she stumbles around the couch.

It’s Harry who fishes the phone from beneath a throw pillow and hands it over to his friend. She smiles thankfully, her hair a little messy and her eyes slightly crazed, before picking up the phone without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?...Cate?...Oh, hey….No, I didn’t look at the ID...figured it was you or someone in the states...no one in the UK would call me right now...It’s almost midnight here, you asshole,” she pauses and points at the phone and mouths “it’s Cate” like Harry hadn’t been sitting there listening to the entire conversation.

“I’m just hanging out watching the new season of Crown...with Harry...yeah, that Harry,” she flits her eyes to Harry for a second and rolls her eyes sarcastically.

“Talk to him? I mean.. I can put you on speaker, I guess?” She looks at Harry and he nods his head eagerly.

She rejoins him on the couch and places the phone on the coffee table, tapping on the speaker.

“You’re on speaker now.”

“Hi Harry!” Cate crackles over the line, happily, likely just awoken from her slumber in California.

“Hullo, love,” he says sweetly, his voice beginning to slow even more as the night wears on.

Y/N rolls her eyes at both of her friends, knowing Harry was laying it on thick and that Cate would squeal over this exchange for the next three weeks.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?” She inquires sweetly and Harry makes an arched brow at Y/N and she only supplies a shaken head and a shoulder shrug.

“Cate….” Y/N drags out, annoyed with her for both saying that and for calling just as she was planning on going to sleep.

“Sorry! Friends, I know. Even though staying in on a Friday night with just the two of you doesn’t sound very friendly…” She begins to ramble on, but Y/N offers another warning ‘Cate’. Cate takes the hint and finishes her teasing. “Anyways…”

Harry and Y/N are completely red, sitting next to one another but grateful for the minimal lighting.

“I was just calling to check-in. Do you know what you’re doing for the holidays yet? I know you don’t do thanksgiving anymore - which was yesterday by the way - since you’re all British now.”

Y/N scoffs at her close friend and Harry nudges her side about the British thing.

“I don’t know yet, I have to see my work schedule and all that. I don’t know if I want to fly across the world this year though…” She trails off, kind of quieting in hope that Cate will miss it.

Harry regards the conversation, casually interested, yet intrigued since he had been meaning to ask the exact same question.

Cate hums, obviously unhappy with the response. “Alright. And you Harry? Do you usually go home to your family for the holidays?”

“You don’t need to answer that,” Y/N interjects.

Harry places a hand on her thigh to let her know that it’s completely fine. An easy smile on his lips as he speaks to the phone. Y/N places her hand over Harry’s on instinct.

“Usually, yeah. This year we were thinking of all going out to my place in Italy so it’s kind of up in the air right now. When I get back from LA, I’ll probably finalize it.”

“LA you said? We should get together while you’re here.”

“Cate. He’s there on business.”

“I know...but still. It’s fine,” Cate laughs lightly, knowing she was pushing her luck with this conversation as it was. “Anyways, darling, I just wanted to tell you I miss you and that Harry’s not allowed to replace me as your best friend. Y’hear that Mr. Styles?”

“I sure do, love.”

Everyone laughs whole heartedly and Harry and Y/N are still playing with each other’s fingers on top of her thigh.

Y/N thinks that’s enough of the conference call with Harry and Cate so she snatches the phone with her free hand and raises it back to her ear.

“Alright, Cate, I think we’re going to head to bed...not...not like that...I hate you...Now I definitely don’t want to come home...I’m kidding, I’ll think about it...Love you, too….Yeah I’ll tell him...Have a nice day…”

She throws the phone on the coffee table again and falls back on the couch. Her head rolls to rest on Harry’s broad shoulder and she sighs softly. Harry moves his head to rest over hers, chuckling softly. His sweet breaths of joy are why he then receives a soft slap on his far arm, only making him laugh more.

“Shut up,” her muffled voice comes out from against his blue shirt that is far more crumpled than it was when he came over hours ago.

“She’s so funny,” he laughs again, nosing his face into her hair.

“She tries to get away with way too much,” she sighs and Harry just pats at her side, smiling and not caring at all about the things Cate was hinting at because he wanted what she was alluding to to be reality.

“Y’know I have a question because she said I can’t be your best friend and that’s fine with me, but I wanted to tell you something, love.”

Her head raises to look Harry in the eye, slightly confused by his preface.

“You’re my best friend,” he says earnestly in the dark living room, “Is that allowed?”

His accent was thick with anticipation, the night wearing on his vocal cords. It was so quiet in the room, Harry was sure she just heard him swallow his own saliva - he had paused the music after a minute into the call with Cate. He blinks twice while waiting for any response, he stares straight at her.

Her eyes barely shine through the darkness as she looks back at him. His question rattled through her mind. ‘Is it allowed’ for him to think of her as his best friend. It just didn’t make complete sense to her and she wasn’t sure if she should vocalize that doubt. But as his eyes begin to mist like a forest on a cold morning she knows she has to say something.

Her eyelids shut as she lets out a heavy breath, the processing of what Harry’s just said finishes.

“It’s allowed...Do you mean it?”

“Course I mean it,” his voice cracks, an incredulous laugh leaving his lips.

She straightens up, moving slightly from his warm embrace. He becomes fidgety without her tucked in his side. His fingers itch without her arm to caress. His lips move between his teeth without her hair to ghost over.

When she remains silent, Harry decides to continue.

“I remember the first time I saw you,” he croaks and she furrows her brow at this. “It was the day you moved in...Had just come home from my morning run and you’d pulled up in your moving van. I thought you had on the coolest pair of jeans I’d ever seen…” He pauses. He takes a deep breath and her eyes are watering now.

“I also thought you were one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen and I knew I had to know you.”

“Why’d it’d take you so long?” Is all she asks as she tries to will away the water welling in her eyes.

Harry rolls his lips together and breathlessly laughs, head tilted up to the sky. “Never knew how to approach ya’. Then you bumped into me, felt like it was the universe kicking me for being so damn slow.”

She bites her lip, a tear rolling down her cheek finally. “Oh, Harry.”

Then there it is. What the last few months had been leading up to. The moment where they no longer were able to wonder what the other would taste like. No more guessing. No more wondering. It was concrete. It was her lips pressed to Harry’s. She laughed lightly after a moment, pressing closer to him. His lips felt like the softest pillow she could ever lay on and she never wanted to get out of bed.

A small breath came out of his nose as he pressed eagerly back against her. She tasted like ginger and chocolate and maybe cherry - her chapstick possibly. He sucked at her lips, never wanting the taste or the feeling to go away. She was so soft and smooth and she responded quickly to his push.

Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck and into his hair as he pulled her closer by her waist. They were attempting to inhale one another, taking inventory of every possible crevice of each other they hadn’t touched before.

Harry’s lips part slightly as he swipes his tongue across her bottom lip. She giggles, tugging him over her and opening up her mouth easily. He pushes forward, a small sound leaving his mouth as he shifts them into a lying position on the couch, her legs encircling his waist.

A hand runs along her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone and then down her arm. It lands so that he can intertwine their hands together. He feels her smile beneath him and he smiles back despite their lips never leaving one another. His other hand caresses her cheek as he kisses her.

Eventually, his lips roam around her face and on her neck aways, but mostly he focuses on her lips. Both of them are more than happy with this decision as they continue on for what feels like hours. Yet still those hours don’t feel long enough.

She pulls at a button on his shirt at one point, but Harry pulls back.

“I think we should call it a night.”

“Really?” She looks at him with confusion and a swirl of hurt in her eyes.

“It’s late, love, and… we just, I don’t want to rush anything.”

“Alright,” she nods, sitting up and running a finger down the side of his face.

“I think I’ve been doing best friends wrong all this time.” she muses, tracing lines on Harry’s neck now. Her eyes focused on her work.

“And why’s that?” Harry asks, his own hands running up and down her back.

“I’ve never snogged a best friend for hours on end.” She laughs and Harry can’t help his snort.

He moves his head to rest on her shoulder, almost like a hug, but not quite. She doesn’t move away, simply turns her head to continue watching her hands trace him, her work now moving to the back of his neck and his upper back and shoulders.

He hums a little bit, a love song he had played for himself the last few weeks when he tried to fall asleep and all that he could think of was her. She smiles softly and places a kiss on his shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, darling.”

Harry nods, wrapping his arms around Y/N and carrying her to her room.

The next morning she finds herself wrapped happily in a set of strong, tattooed arms. She sighs content, snuggling closer to the warm naked chest in front of her.

“G’morning,” the man beneath her whispers. His voice a low rumbling rasp, she feels the vibrations below her.

“Morning,” she mumbles, nuzzling her nose into the crevice of his sternum, just above the butterfly that lives on his chest.

He hums at the feeling, slightly shivering from the cold, but pulls her closer nonetheless. She caresses his side with a light touch in response. Her fingers trace unknown patterns down his ribcage and then dip to the ferns peeking from his boxers. He shifts slightly when her fingers travel there. A place no one but him had touched in a long time.

“’ve got a plane to catch,” he says sadly and he brushes a hair from her face as she turns to look at his face.

His neck strains to regard her and he has a bit of a double chin from this angle, but she couldn’t care less. He looked so beautiful staring down at her. She never wanted to look away or lose this image. His eyelashes lightly caressed the skin just below his eyes everytime he blinked. It was quiet enough that if she listened close she could hear each flutter. The eyes behind them were even better, a dark rim of green encases emerald irises that hold black and gold specs, stars and stories swirl hidden beneath it all. She wants to drown in it.

He winks at her as she stares, growing disarmed with her intense gaze on him for so long. Her calming caress keeps him grounded though and she laughs at the wink, relieving him of her scrutiny that he didn’t understand was awe.

She groans, unhappy, “Miss it.”

“I can’t,” he drags out, not wanting to leave either.

“Can’t convince you to stay, no?” She rolls on top of him, pushing her chest against him and giving him doe eyes.

His strong arms encircle her waist as her legs straddle him. She arches more into him and leans down to kiss in between his pecs. Her eyes never leave his face, watching his reaction. It’s his turn to groan with a loud sigh to match. He throws his head back and steals himself to say,

“Not even a chance.”

She remembers when he had begged her to come with him and she smiles at his recycling over her response.

“Fair enough,” she says and rolls off of him. His head falls to the side to watch her get up and begin her day. He takes a deep breath, wishing he didn’t have to leave.

Harry heads back to his place to get ready for his departure. Before he leaves he joins Y/N and Rori for an early tea at the café. They get their drinks to go and walk back to Harry’s together. When they arrive, Harry’s car is waiting and she feels a dryness in her throat. He looks down at Rori and gives him a quick pet. He turns to her and she smiles weakly.

Harry’s hand encircles her wrist, caressing her softly. He leans down quickly and pecks her lips. It feels like he was barely there and then he was gone. It was like a butterfly had landed on her lips and wrist and then it had vanished.

Off his sleek black car goes, soon out of sight and headed for the airport. And there she is, left on Sherwood Avenue. Her fingers move to dance over her lips and then over her jaw and down her neck. Every place his touch had burned her in the past 24 hours. And now he was gone, across the world.

No talk of what came next had been spoken between them. She wasn’t sure what they were and didn’t know if she could handle that talk over the phone. She walked home after a few minutes of standing with her dog in front of Harry’s now vacant home. She sat silently in her house for half of the day.

At dusk, she decides on a run, maybe it will get her mind off her neighbour. She had sat in the same spot for too long. The same spot they had kissed each other last night. Maybe a change of scenery would stop the movie reel of last night that kept playing over and over in her mind.

She runs down the street, specifically keeping her eyes off the lovely home across from her, and keeps running down different streets, past the café, down to the park, and then finally reaches a stream that is past some brush and trees at the end of the park. There’s a bench there that seems like a nice place to rest.

Her music has been playing the entire time, the playlist she chose was inundated with Taylor Swift - but not chosen for that specific reason. Each song thankfully not from 1989. At least not until she’s running through the park. “You are in love” begins to play, it’s soft Twin Peaks-esque opening is familiar to her. It fits the cool rush of wind against her skin and the leaves that have turned brown as fall has worn on. She’d listened to it a thousand times. Sometimes thinking about the man who inspired the song, but all those times were long before she had ever met him.

Now that she knew him, she almost skipped it, but shook her head to herself feeling silly for feeling uncomfortable listening to a song she liked. Her run turns into a walk as she reaches the stream. The chorus begins. Taylor softly serenades about being in love. About a man in love with a woman. About Harry being in love with her.

She takes a deep breath, hearing the words a little different this time. Taylor sings “You kiss on sidewalks” and this morning flashes in her mind. She looks out at the stream, the water rushing along as she stands there, still catching her breath. Then the next part of the song reaches into her heart and twists it with all its might.

“One night he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses, then says, ‘you’re my best friend’.”

And that’s it. She takes out her headphones, her breath no longer capable of being caught. She breathes heavier and heavier. Her throat was as tight and dry as when Harry had left this morning. Possibly even worse. She can’t even swallow this time. Her phone and headphones are discarded on the bench as she raises her hands to her face and begins to pace beside the stream. Her eyes eventually match the body of water next to her and she feels a sob wrack through her. She couldn’t breath, her running and panic had brought her asthma to the forefront and she was hyperventilating, gasping for air. She was drowning and no one was there to help her.

Tears stream down her face and she moves her hands to her thighs as she tries to calm down, not knowing how she reached this level of distraughtness. Deep breaths she reminds herself. She licks her lips and shuts her eyes. “Just ground yourself,” she whispers.

When she’s finally gotten ahold of herself she sits at the bench and stares into the stream. A distorted version of herself seems to stare back. It’s constantly moving, swirling, and changing and as she watches that version of herself she wants to scream. Her tears had faded awhile ago, but the fear was still there.

The last few months had been so easy, had been so perfect. Going over to each other’s houses and being with each other. But if she ignored history wasn’t she destined to repeat it? When she heard the confessional of the man Taylor had loved in her song, when he had told her she was his best friend which meant he was in love, she felt hurt. She knew how their story ended. Taylor and Harry’s. He left. He left her when she needed him and today, Y/N realized it’s what he does. It wasn’t his fault, she didn’t blame him for leaving today. It was his job, not another woman. But holy fuck when she heard Taylor sing those lyrics, it felt like she had been hit on the head out of nowhere. Reminded that she had been living in a fairytale for the last few months, swept up in a fantasy that she wasn’t meant to be a part of.

She ran a hand over her face, rubbing slightly at her cheek. The same cheek Harry had caressed last night and she sighed. She stared off into the trees and then shook her head, standing up and heading back home. Alone.

Harry calls her when he arrives at LAX. She doesn’t pick up. He calls the next day. She doesn’t pick up. He texts and receives no response for three days.

She thought she didn't know what she would say.

“I listened to too much of your ex’s music and now I’m insecure.”

“I feel like you’re gonna leave me someday so I’m too afraid to do anything with you.”

“Is it alright if we’re just friends, I don’t think my heart could take the pain of falling in love with you and then losing you.”

“You can’t promise me forever and after just one kiss I knew I couldn’t do anything less.”

“The price of loving you is far too high.”

She types them all out and then deletes them every time. Too scared. Instead:

“I’m busy with work, I don’t know when I won’t be. Let’s just plan on meeting up when you’re home.”

Harry nods when he sees the text on Friday. He tells her to take care and make sure she gets enough rest. He wipes away the stray tear that decided to escape his eyes after reading her response. He exhales and looks to the sky, wondering what could have possibly happened since he had left. He sends little emojis over the next few weeks that she puts a heart on, but she doesn’t communicate otherwise.

Harry doesn’t ask her to pick him up. Instead he sends flowers to her house the Thursday before he returns. They make her smile and she wonders if maybe she can move past every red flag she feels like she sees. After a month away, she can’t lie and say she’s not excited for Harry to return. She missed his warm skin and his soft hair. She missed everything and the flowers had only made her wish it had been Harry on her doorstep a couple days early.

He gets home on the 12th and he’s at her door after throwing his things in his entryway.

She opens the door and bites her lip as she takes in who it is.

Harry says her name breathlessly and she melts. Her doubts fly out the window for the moment and all she wants are his lips on hers.

She falls into him and his lips are on hers. They twist into one another and their lips move softly yet urgently against one another. Not sure how to explain the last four weeks, they both attempt to say everything in that kiss. All her pain and confusion press into Harry’s lip with each breath. All his sadness and longing tug at her lips as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and hungers for more.

He pulls back and stares straight into her eyes, “Come to Italy with me for the holidays.”

She tilts her head confused, trying to catch her own breath.

“I’m not sure what happened while I was gone, love. But I know I missed you and I can’t go another month without you. Just say yes and we’ll take it from there...Please,” he begs, voice cracking as he holds her cheek.

She wets her lips and opens them to speak, but her voice betrays her. Instead she just nods and squeaks out a noise of approval. Too elated to speak, they press their lips back together and she pulls Harry into her home.

December was far too cold to snog out in the freezing night air.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one shot #neighbor!harry #I live in the neighbourhood #part 2 #part 3 to come #pls rb and message me ily #surprisingly somewhat proofread

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cali-holland · 4 years

Text

Sweet as Sugar- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: Tom’s on a strict diet to bulk up, meaning he can’t have sweets… but you keep baking too many desserts for just you and your housemate, so you decide to share with him, your neighbor.

Word Count: 3100

Warnings: low key body positivity issues on tom’s end i mean tom’s on a bulking diet so idk, does that count?? , mentions of sex, maybe swearing

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

A/N: i got an ask yesterday that kinda pushed me into completing this fic, so here it is :) enjoy me actually finishing something for once

~~~

“Why do we have baby food in the fridge?” Harry asked, holding up a suspicious looking bottle of yellow slosh.

“That’s my lunch.” Tom grumbled as he came into the kitchen, taking the bottle from his brother. Harry just shrugged and moved along to get his own lunch out, which was leftover nachos from last night.

“Ah, it’s that time of year again.” Harrison laughed when he noticed Tom’s scrunched up nose, trying to drink his protein shake without having it touch his tongue.

“Oh yeah,” Harry chuckled, “You have to bulk up.”

“The rest of the diet is fine. I can handle the cut back on sweets and carbs, but this shit?” Tom held up the yellow drink in his hands, “I hate it.”

“You have fun with that while we enjoy these.” His brother teasingly held up the nachos that Tom desperately wanted to eat, but he knew couldn’t. Instead, he took a drink out of his shake, physically restraining himself from gagging on the flavor. It wasn’t like he could add anything to it to make it taste better; his trainer had a very strict meal plan for him for the next several weeks, and that was accompanied by a very strict exercise routine. He just had to suck it up— literally.

Meanwhile, you let out a sigh as you stood in your kitchen, looking at the two dozen cupcakes you just made. Of course your cousin would cancel her baby shower that you were catering with desserts after you made said desserts. You only had one housemate, and there was no way that the two of you could eat all of them before they go stale.

“Oh no, are they the wrong color?” Your roommate asked, stepping into the kitchen once she saw the frustrated look on your face.

“I just spent hours making these vanilla cupcakes and now the shower’s been canceled. I don’t know what to do with all these cupcakes now.” You explained as you leaned on the counter, eyeing the now unnecessary cupcakes.

“Too many cupcakes— I never thought we’d have that problem.” She laughed. “Why don’t you give them to Tom?”

“Our neighbor?” You looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“I mean, unless you’re into another guy living in that house, but as I recall, Tom’s the only one you can’t talk to.” She said as she picked up a cupcake for herself, “Whoever you give them to, save us a few. I love your baking.”

“There’s no way I’m doing that.” You shook your head at her.

“Come on, this is the perfect excuse to talk to him.” She encouraged you through a mouthful of blue vanilla cupcake.

“No, I can’t just give him cupcakes randomly.”

“Sure you can! The way to a guy’s heart is through his stomach.” She teased. “Look at the guys that live in that house; they can definitely eat two dozen cupcakes before they go stale. You know I’m right.”

“I hate you sometimes.” You grumbled, taking off your apron and putting the cupcakes into your carrier, specially designed for keeping them stable for traveling.

As your housemate continued to eat her cupcake in pure bliss, you made your way to the house next door with your cupcakes in hand. You felt like it was a stupid idea, but you couldn’t let the cupcakes go to waste. With a small sigh, you knocked on your neighbor’s door, hoping that anyone would answer it besides- well, besides Tom, but by the time you thought that, he already had the door open.

The moment you looked into his chocolate brown eyes, you froze, completely blanking on the reason why you’re there. It wasn’t the “you’re a celebrity” shock; it was the “you’re my super attractive neighbor and you’re really nice and you work out in front of your house sometimes and it kills me” shock. Luckily, he was kind enough to save you from furthering your own embarrassment.

“Are those cupcakes?” He asked curiously as he looked down at the container in your hands.

“Oh, um, yeah,” You answered. “I made these cupcakes for my cousin’s baby shower and it got canceled, so now I have 20 cupcakes, and I thought maybe you’d like them? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, and I realize now that this is incredibly weird and random, but I swear I haven’t poisoned them or anything.”

Tom laughed, nodding his head, “Poisoned or not, I’ll take them. I’m sure they’re fantastic anyway.”

“Thank you.” You handed him the container, and he immediately opened it up, reaching for one. You saw the smile drop from his face as he slowly retracted his hand.

“Sorry, I-“ He paused, clearing his throat. “I’m about to have lunch so I shouldn’t spoil it. I’ll definitely have one later though.” And just like that, the smile was back on his face.

“No worries.” You smiled.

“Well, thank you, Y/N.” Tom smiled, and you felt your heart flutter. You didn’t know he knew your name; you hadn’t spoken in the three months you lived next door to him (unless you count his football landing in your backyard and you throwing it back over the fence for him).

Without another word, you turned around and darted back into the safety of your house. Tom stayed on his doorstep, watching your retreating figure in confusion. As he stepped back inside his house, he let out a sigh, looking down at the cupcakes in his hands.

“Who was that?” Harry asked through a mouthful of nachos.

“Y/N from next door.” Tom replied, trying his best to hide the small blush on his cheeks at the thought of the random encounter.

“The cute one that doesn’t talk to you?” Harrison inquired, and Tom was quick to send him a glare.

“She gave us cupcakes.” He put the container on the counter as a way to wordlessly let his housemates have at them.

“Marry her.” Harry stated, nachos abandoned for a sweet cupcake. Harrison barely even chewed the first one, making his way to a second.

“It’s just cupcakes.” Tom tried to play it off.

“Uhuh, just cupcakes.” His younger brother nudged him teasingly.

“Stop pouting and go back to your protein shake.” Harrison joked. Grumbling incoherently, Tom did just that— he went back to his protein shake and continued the art of keeping the disgusting taste from touching his tongue.

A few days later, the cupcakes were cleared from the container, eaten and enjoyed by everyone except for Tom (even Tessa got some because Paddy dropped crumbs on the floor when they came over). With your cleaned container in hand, Tom made his way over to your house next door. He nervously smoothed out his t-shirt one last time before knocking on your door.

“Coming!” He heard you call from inside. A couple moments later, you opened up the door in surprise.

“Oh, Tom.” You said quietly, feeling insecure as you looked down at your messy apron.

“Are you baking more food?” He asked, his signature smile on his face.

“Technically not right now. I’m filling eclairs.” You replied, and his eyes went wide in surprise.

“Wow, you really know your way around the kitchen.” Tom admired, making your cheeks heat up.

“Do you- do you mind helping me for a minute? I’m having issues piping.” You sheepishly admitted. You fully expected him to say no, come up with some half-ass excuse about how he was busy, but then he surprised you with a nod.

“Of course, I’ll help.”

You stepped aside and let him inside. Leading him back into the kitchen, you asked, “How’d you like the cupcakes?”

“Oh, they were great. Really good, thank you.” He didn’t hesitate to compliment the sweet that he’d never tasted. Considering how much his friends and family loved your cupcakes though, he could only assume they were the best. He thought maybe you caught his lie, but then you just got straight to work at your eclair-covered counter. Tom set the container aside on an empty counter and quickly washed his hands.

“They keep losing their shape as I pipe them, so can you just hold them upside?” You asked, holding up a bare eclair. Tom held it as instructed and you got your piping bag together. He watched as you concentrated on filling the treat, your eyebrows furrowed together and your teeth sinking into your teeth a little. He felt his stomach begin to grumble from the intoxicating smell of your kitchen. It seemed like you had everything he couldn’t eat, just out on your counter.

“Are you hungry?” You spoke up, a few eclairs later when Tom’s stomach groaned loudly.

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” He insisted. Looking at the eclairs on the counter, he knew you’d offer him one without a second thought, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could fight off the urge to break his stupid diet.

He continued to focus on you as you focused on the eclairs. With all but a few pastries filled, you grabbed another empty one. You let out a frustrated huff as your piping bag struggled to cooperate with the pastry.

“Get in there.” You grumbled, annoyed at the difficult eclair.

“Too tight?” Tom asked.

“No, it’s just-“ You trailed off as you finally got it to work. You smiled proudly, happy that it was finally working right.

“Am I about to walk in on kitchen sex or can I come in?” You heard your housemate jokingly call out from the hallway. While you froze up in embarrassment, Tom shook with laughter. She walked into the kitchen with a smirk on her face, sending you a very obvious wink that Tom completely saw.

“You’re the worst.” You muttered, moving on to the next eclair.

“So you two just, uh, filling eclairs?” Your housemate asked, grabbing one of the filled pastries and taking a bite out of it.

“Yes, it’s a very important two person job.” Tom chuckled, and she nodded.

“Y/N, how the fuck are you so good at this?” She turned to you, taking another bite of her food. “Oh my god, Tom, you have to try these eclairs.”

“I’m good, don’t want to eat Y/N’s food.” He answered, but his stomach betrayed him with another growl.

“You seem really hungry. Are you sure you don’t want any?” You inquired, and Tom shook his head politely.

“It’s okay, really.”

“Do you want to take some home? For you and your housemates? I’ve made too many again.” You offered, making him laugh.

“You have that problem a lot, don’t you?” He teased. You playfully rolled your eyes at him as you finished the last eclair. Grabbing the container from the other counter, you began to reload it with eclairs.

“Here you go.” You smiled, holding it out to Tom.

“Thank you. I should probably get going.” He trailed off a little, sounding a bit disappointed.

“Let me know how they are.” You bid him one last farewell before he left.

When he returned home a whole minute later, he set the container full of fresh eclairs on the kitchen counter and immediately went in search for his scheduled snack, which was simply just an apple, but, compared to the eclairs he just helped make, an apple never seemed so disappointing.

“More free dessert?” Harry asked, eyes lighting up when he spotted the familiar container.

“They’re eclairs today.” Tom replied.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much does this suck?” He teased, taking a massive bite from the eclair. Tom glared at his brother before leaving the room to enjoy his apple in an eclair (and Harry) free zone.

This all became a routine between you and Tom. He’d bring you back your container after a few days and you’d fill it up (or switch it out) with more freshly made treats. Tom had to just sit back and watch everyone around him enjoy your pies, brownies, cookies, tarts, even croissants. You even made a cake and he had to bring it to a family birthday party. The more time he spent with you though, the more he found himself really liking you— but there was also the catch that the more time he spent with you, the more he struggled to maintain his diet. He almost snuck a cookie when no one was around but then he remembered the last time he broke his diet and shuddered at the thought of it.

One day, a few weeks later, Tom heard the familiar sound of your special knock on his front door. Confused because you’d given him fudge just yesterday, he opened the door.

“I got locked out.” You said as soon as he opened the door. As if you didn’t feel awkward enough around him before, now you’re really asking him for a big favor. “If it’s not overstepping, could I stay here? My housemate should be back in a bit and she has her key.”

“Come on in.” Tom stepped aside for you to come into his house. You had never actually been inside it before, and it seemed to be just as homey as yours, but with a tad more frat boy mess in it, complete with video games stashed on the shelves of the entertainment center and random beer bottles in the house.

“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to clean up.” He apologized, rushing to grab the empty bottles to recycle them. You just laughed in response, still taking in the home, “Do you want water or anything?”

“Water would be great, thank you.” You replied. You followed Tom into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as you waited for your water. “I’m thinking of making these cookie bar things. Are any of you allergic to nuts?”

“No food allergies here.” Tom answered with a laugh, passing you the cup filled with water. You spotted the half eaten block of fudge on his counter and smiled.

“How’s the fudge?” You asked before taking a sip of your water.

“It’s the best. Truly the best I’ve ever had.” He stated definitively.

And it happened to be at that moment that Harry came into the room, scouting for more fudge. As he picked up a piece, he realized that you and Tom were in the room, “Thank you, Y/N, for all of the food.”

“It’s no problem. I enjoy sharing it.” You smiled kindly at him.

“Too bad you can’t have any.” He teased his older brother before shoving the large piece of fudge into his mouth. As Harry left the room, Tom went red in embarrassment.

“Best fudge you’ve ever had, huh?” You asked, crossing your arms defensively.

“It’s not that I don’t like fudge— I love fudge—“

“But you don’t like mine?” You weren’t sure why you were so upset over it, but maybe it was the fact that you thought he truly enjoyed your desserts. “Did you eat any of it?”

“No.” Tom answered honestly, defeat present on his face as he hung his head in shame.

“Then why did you lie about it?” You stated, unwavering in the hurt look in your features.

Tom mumbled something, and you furrowed your eyebrows at him, unable to understand a word he said. A little bit louder, he spoke up again, “I’m on a bulking diet and I can’t have sugar, but you were really happy giving me things and— and it gave me a good excuse to actually talk to you.”

With a sheepish smile on his face, he finally looked up at you. You paused, processing his words before finding your own voice, “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda really into you.” He said. “I was going to ask you out on a date, but, uh, I can understand if you don’t—”

“I’d love to.” You cut him off quickly, not giving yourself the chance to think about your response. Tom’s eyes lit up, hopefully.

“Really?”

“Really.” You nodded. Before you could say anything further, your phone began to ring and you looked down; it was your housemate, meaning she was home now and could let you in. “I should get going.”

“Does tomorrow work? I could pick you up at 7?” Tom offered, and you smiled as the two of you made your way to his front door.

“7 sounds great. I’ll see you then.” You said, stepping out onto his porch. “Thank you, again.”

“Anytime.” He answered with a grin. Knowing he’d watch you as you walked home, you had to maintain yourself from skipping a little in happiness.

Even with your big date tomorrow though, you still barely slept, spending all night searching through fitness sites for new recipes. That night, right as the clock struck 7, you heard a knock on your door. Eagerly, you grabbed a new container full of your latest bake and opened your door.

“Before we leave, can you try this?” You asked, handing Tom the container. He looked at the appetizing bars questioningly.

“Is this a test? I can’t have—” Tom started, but you cut him off, shaking your head.

“They’re not sweets. They’re protein bars.” You explained. “I found a recipe last night. It’s peanut butter and rice protein.”

“You made me protein bars?” His voice almost broke as he looked at you in disbelief.

“Well, yeah, I feel bad for giving you so many things you couldn’t eat, so I wanted to do something for you.” You could barely get your words out before he was unceremoniously stuffing a protein bar in his mouth. He knew he had a routine that he was supposed to follow but, hey, at least this was filled with protein.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been dying to try your baking, and these are so good.” Tom sighed in relief with a clear mouth.

“So I’ll keep that recipe then.” You laughed. You stepped out of your house and closed the door behind you.

“I should drop these off. One moment.” He jogged back over to his house and threw the door open.

“These are mine! No eating them!” He shouted to his nosy housemates, putting the container of protein bars on the side table.

“Marry her!” Harry and Harrison both called back out to him as he shut the door. With a twinge of embarrassment from you hearing their words, Tom turned back to you.

“Ready?”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-holland @lonikje @sleepybesson @sunkisseddreamer @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorrillaglue13 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys

Tom Tag List:@quaksonhehe @tomkindholland

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic

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azucanela · 4 years

Note

Hey, can I get an Bakugou/Shouto/Shinsou hcs where they have a crush on their classmate that haves an astronomic quirk? I had seen an artwork where the guy is just like an universe force full of stars on his body and I've just had this idea. I hope you having a good day✨✨✨

REACTING TO S/O WITH ASTRONOMIC QUIRK [GN HEADCANNONS]

ft. bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, todoroki shouto

SUMMARY: in which Y/N has an astronomic quirk and the boys can’t help but fall for her.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of threats, fluff, really pg tbh

A/N: there is a total of two gifs for shinsou hitoshi that exist so for the sake of fairness we shall move away from gifs! also i hope you have a nice day too bb <3

BAKUGO KATSUKI

the volume in this bus is

astronomical.

okay but fr you have an astronomic quirk that essentially allows you to do anything in relation to the universe, so you’re out here making black holes with your hands and shooting out some cosmic energy at your opponents, your lil super weapon is a supernova

whenever you use your quirk your body literally glows, like it looks like a galaxy on your body, your skin literally looks straight out of a photo from NASA, its almost as if your hair becomes a liquid as it floats into the air, defying gravity, wisps of energy occasionally coming off, speaking of defying gravity you can fly because gravity happens to not exist in space um float float woo

moral of the story, you are POWERFUL, scoring in the top five amongst your class, depending on your control over your quirk and creativity, you may have even outdone katsuki

he hates you for this, and despises you because you’re just so good at being a hero, and yet everyone is still a student. unlike him you hopefully have your emotions in check, and are far more capable of social interactions, which are very important as a hero! for rescues, and interviews, and team ups! collaboration is key.

as he grows as a person, he also grows out of this mentality of despising those who are better than him and instead begrudgingly seeking their assistance to improve. so congrats, you earned his respect! you are one of few that his managed this task!

he just kinda forces himself into your life, not that you mind, but it is a little random when he just kinda plops down beside you during lunch and starts eating, looking at you as though he’s daring you to say something

you just raise a brow and move on, continuing to speak with your friends who remain baffled by his sudden presence

katsuki is gonna be asking you to train 24/7, he wants to improve his skills and you are one of few he considers worthy, you don’t mind because he’s also talented and your quirks are pretty well suited for each other in combat practice

realistically you could just suck him into one of your black holes but he doesn’t need to know that

anyways during one of these training sessions, after a while of actually getting to know you and stuff it just kinda hits him that you look really ethereal when you’re using your quirk, and wow you are beautiful

and now he’s been hit in the face by one of your cosmic blasts, and he is cursing and you are apologizing, coming over to his as the stars on your skin fade and your hair returns to normal

katsuki is BLUSHING as he realizes his mistake and he is desperately hoping you did not notice why he screwed up, swatting you away as you attempt to help him up from the floor, the remnants of your quirk’s glow still in the training room

he was here to be a hero. not to have stupid crushes.

you are definitely his first crush oh god. this boy is an emotional mess, he’s never felt like this, he never had the time or the desire to feel like this, katsuki has always felt like nobody else could keep up with him so why should he like anyone?

until someone could keep up with him, that someone being you

he likes you oh no. oh no. oh no. panic is all that is katsuki bakugo and he’s going to try and storm out but you’re like omg what the hell man???

everytime he sees you, especially when you’re using your quirk, he’s gonna get all blushy, and everyone is gonna notice how flustered he is, they’ll catch on pretty quick

accidentally stares at you in class and it frustrates him to no end when he begins to focus again and realizes he allowed his gaze to fall onto you

“you’re staring again bakugo 👀”

“SHUT UP.”

when you two start dating he’s gonna want to ask you to use your quirk when you’re alone just because he wants to admire you and how pretty it looks, but it is going to take a LOT of bullying and pushing to get him to reveal this

let him touch your starry skin he’ll be freakishly calm, and his touch will be so gentle because it is just so pretty and its you and it seems really out of character for him but your quirk is just so coming because at the end of the day it is you

moral of the story is stars calm our boy baku

SHINSOU HITOSHI

the only person who hasn’t seen your quirk in action because he doesn’t get accepted into the Hero Course until later on. but he’s probably gonna see it for the first time at the UA Sports Festival.

you two are friends already! you wormed your way into his life, initially to his dismay but now he likes you as a friend, thats about to change

you probably just started sitting down at lunch with him randomly and he got really confused and you just kinda shrugged and were like, “you have nice hair.”

that was it.

in all honesty, the purple color of his hair lowkey reminded you of your own quirk and you kinda just wanted to meet him and that’s what you did, after a while of hyping yourself up and backing out several times

regardless, it became a daily thing and you found yourself determined to befriend him, and you did! it was lovely, he was slowly accepting you and everything was going great, he was finally talking about stuff with you during lunch and he’d wave in the halls and woo!

anyways, the UA Sports Festival, you’re like the only person he knows so he’s paying attention to the festival purely for you, even when he gets eliminated

you’re about to go up against bakugo and allow me to explain some of the other wonderful parts of the universe

a wormhole = a white hole and i think its still rather theoretical and not proven but right now in this instance they are definitively real! so you can teleport with you quirk basically! not that anyone knows this because you’ve been saving this lovely ability

there is also black holes but that is a little excessive for a festival, and cosmic blasts, but bakugo has blasts of his own so

shinsou is watching and then you begin GLOWING AND HE’S SO SHOCKED MAN, like your skin looks like a picture of the galaxy, and your hair is glowing and floating in the air, hands sparking with wisps of energy radiating off of you

its beautiful, you’re beautiful, bye bye platonic feelings, shinsou just fell in love by accident

he probably liked you already but it took this moment for him to realize that he liked you.

shinsou is watching in astonishment as a white hole opens up in front of you, bakugo blasting forward at an incredibly quick rate and shooting through the hole, just to end up outside the arena

that’s the story of how bakugo almost killed you on camera and you won the sports festival :D shinsou thinks you are so COOL but he’s gonna be really nonchalant about it and be lowkey when he asks you about your quirk

tbh he’s gonna be bashful, but he’ll ask for a demonstration of your abilities because he really just wants to see that again, and when you say yes he’s pretty ecstatic though he isn’t expressing it.

“hey.. why didn’t you tell me about your quirk?”

“you never asked”

“would you mind uh..”

you’re looking at him like what you want boy

“would you mind showing me your quirk?” the words come out quicker than he’d wanted but you don’t seem to notice

“sure! right now?”

you two are in his room and he doesn’t know why but seeing your body begin to glow, beautiful stars lighting up your skin, it feels rather intimate, and he finds himself blushing

you’re giving him a demonstration of your other abilities but he can only really focus on just how pretty you look because WOW

in general, he’s gonna try to catch glimpses of you using your quirk as often as he can, though it is difficult since you are in different classes

when you two start dating it’s probably around the time he gets accepted into the hero course, and he feels like he’s behind so naturally he asks his girlfriend and best student in the class for help training!

get’s distracted the first couple of times he sees you use your quirk in class, but he manages to get over it after a while, mostly

not ashamed to blatantly stare at you in class, because you are his girlfriend and he is VERY proud to say that

TODOROKI SHOUTO

welp

this boy

is probably an astronomy nerd, idk why but i can see it, he just knows an odd amount of things about the universe and stuff or anything astronomy related

where’s this constellation? oh ask shouto for some reason he knows

honestly though, he had a lot of tutors growing up since he spent most of his time at home “training” with his father, shouto didn’t go to school and was instead taught by these tutors, and astronomy happened to be a very prominent subject

due to his blunt personality, he’s the only person who is gonna outright say that you look really beautiful when you use your quirk, and everyone is gonna think they’re hearing things, but he has no shame repeating it when asked

you’re blushing this time around ma’am

like you’re all demonstrating quirks as Aizawa pretends to determine if you are going to get expelled or not, and you kinda just begin to glow, your skin looks like the literal galaxy and your hair is glowing a variety of colors, becoming an liquified thing as wisps of energy radiate off you and yoU’RE JUST FLYING ACROSS THE FIELD WOW

space has no gravity because people go float, this is why you also float, but it is a controlled float! you also have cosmic blasts, a funky black hole, a white hole that definitively exists in this universe, yeah astronomic quirk looking good rn

“that’s incredible.”

“im sorry what did you say?”

“her quirk is very impressive.”

later on probably after the two of you are slowly befriending each other, shouto finds you interesting and he wants to learn more about your quirk, and he thinks you would be a decent training partner seeing as the two of you are at the top of your class, so he starts associating with you

and associating with you becomes sitting with you during lunch, sharing his food, studying with you, training with you, he’s spending a lot of his time with you and the entire class notices because shouto is normally way more withdrawn what is this??

its not until one particular training day that uraraka wonders if the dekusquad should get involved, you’re using your quirk and she, todoroki and the others are on the sidelines just watching as they wait for their turn to spar

shouto is staring at you, eyes wide, mouth open with wonder and he just says, “wow. that’s beautiful.”

uraraka is like DID I HEAR YOU RIGHT HAHGAS

he likes yessir, that is a gorgeous person that i simp for look at them glowing so pretty yes yes

idk who approaches who first, either shouto is so confused by this weird feeling he gets whenever he is around you and starts avoiding you, opting to visit midoriya since he’s knowledgable and asks what is wrong with him. or uraraka insists on an intervention since homeboy is clearly in love with you and someone has to tell his deku smh

once he realizes he likes you hes probably gonna be quiet about it for a hot minute, and you find his silent behavior odd because to everyone else he’s like this, yes, but with you he tended to talk more and now you’re like??

shouto is trying to figure out what to do about this situation because this was an ACCIDENT and he does fear losing you since you are like the only person he considers a friend at this point.

you confront him and he’s kinda like, “apparently im in love with you.” he cracks pretty fast about whats going on and he is really upfront with you and you’re just like WELP

thats how you start dating icy hot :)

only one that is not ashamed to ask you to use your quirk because PRETTY SHINY WOW gorgeous just art. definitely takes time to just stare at your glowing skin, connecting the stars with his fingers in astonishment he’s gonna tell you how pretty you are 24/7 even if you don’t use your quirk because you are just that beautiful

loves telling you random astronomical facts, tries to see if the things he learns can be used by you since your quirk is based off space

accidentally finds astrology and is now lowkey obsessing over zodiac signs and nearly got his ass beat by bakugo because he had a temper tantrum and shouto was like “this is just because you are an Aries.”

power couple woo

you aren’t just his world, you’re his universe <3

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bvlnoriyas · 2 years

Text

bvlnoriyas 12 moments of 2021!

I was tagged by @seonghwaminho and @merry-kwanmas (thank youuuuuuu for tagging me <3) to post my favorite or most popular post from each month this year. but! ive only been here for like 6 months so imma change it up and just do 12 moments regardless of month :)

one: seonghwa answer (ode to joy) edit! this is the first thing i made and posted on this account. it was inspired by answer and the kingdom stage and i was trying really hard to get my design brain back after school really burnt me out

two: poster set! this is what i was really really proud of. i made this one day and i felt like i was Back, ya know? it felt really nice to be so proud of something i made again

three: color palette edits! i used to make fun of people who made these back in the day bc silly 15 year old me thought i was Better and Above doing something so simple but i decided to bring them back as a meme and something i enjoyed and you guys really liked them 🥺 and it honestly inspired me to branch out and just do more once i kinda got really back into making things

four: album cover birthday edits! i got this idea randomly for yeosang and while they arent exactly my favorite, i do really like that i *kinda* got the song vibe down. i changed things up for jongho on tho so here are yeosang, san, mingi

five: i taught myself how to make gifs! i'm still learning but im really happy with how things are going and im having a lot of fun. linked is my first gifset that i posted

six: halateez! i made this in like an hour before work one day idk where the inspiration came from but im very happy with how it turned out :)

seven: song graphics! i loveeeee my not too late one and all of the ones i made for fever p3 and beyond but idk what on EARTH possessed me to go past fever p3 and make a graphic for each song in their discography but here we are. you can see all of the ones ive done already here!

eight: spotify gif bday edits! now that i know how to gif i was like how can i do More for these bday edits and so i decided to do this :) i love how you can *kinda* see my improvement as each bday goes on. jongho, hongjoong, wooyoung

nine: cat!hwa doodle set! this is my first set to reach 1k notes and im really proud 🥺 i think the doodles are really cute and i was shocked by the response. you can also see my boo!woo and vamp!yeo doodles here :)

ten: this freaking turbulence edit. i dont know what happened to me this day but how the heck am i going to top this? i have a while before i make the song graphic for it but ???? how ???? i would just count it but the caption doesnt match >:(

eleven: whatever i do with my gifs lmao. i have an inability to just let things Be and so i just started playing with my gifs and adding things to give it ✨concept✨ bc if there's one thing design school did to me, it was drive me to make everything conceptual and now i am broken

twelve: woo content! uwu. literally my last like 5 gifsets are just of him from the various behind things that have been released. i even tried coloring a stage for this man 😭 it's bad folks. brainrot is real

if u made it through my trip down memory lane thank you <3. i appreciate all of the interactions ive gotten out of running this blog for the last few months and im hoping my motivation to make things doesn't die out anytime soon bc im having too much fun 🥺

im tagging @sanshine @holy-yeosang @songmingki @jonghohoho @ortali @answerland @97choi @wooyeosang and anyone else who may want to do it <3

#.nat #happy almost 2022 everyone 🥺#i am wishing you all the best in the new year <3 #also merry christmas/christmas eve for anyone who celebrates :)

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stubbychaos · 4 years

Text

A Guilty Conscience

Chapter 10 of Saviin’ika

Masterlist

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: While you get used to your new role in the tribe, you make it your mission to meet the ones who are to be your family. While befriending some unlikely members of the tribe, Paz later surprises you with something that he thinks will make you happy, though it ends up having the opposite effect.

Rating: T

Word Count: 14,000 *Y’all idk how this happened, I’m so sorry lol*

Warnings: Some unresolved sexual tension, minor injuries and reader still dealing with a bunch of past trauma. Other than that, this chapter is pretty harmless!

Just a quick mention: Thank you as always to @datmando for inspiring me and giving me so many amazing ideas for this story!! You’ve helped me so much with this story and getting through writer’s block and I freaking love you <3 Thank you as well to @aerynwrites @hdlynnslibrary and @maybege for all being wonderful and I love you all for motivating me to write more Paz!!

Also thank you to @coredrive for the beautiful gifs you made!! If anyone wants quality gifs for their stories, masterlists, etc... please go to Kat because she was so freaking lovely and sweet!!

“Would you like one of my shirts, ner cyare?”

You turn around, coming face to face with an unarmored Paz who is sitting on the foot of the bed, his forearms lazily resting on top of his thighs as he observes the way you hopelessly shift the torn, silky fabric in your hands. You turn to face the culprit who is currently curled up in a white rocky ball close to the furnace in the main area of Paz’s private quarters, seeming completely unbothered and not regretful that she had used your only sleep attire as a chewing toy while you were in the shower and Paz was talking to the armorer.

“That would be nice, thank you,” You murmur softly, watching with a smile as he promptly stands and makes his way over to the dresser near his bed while you discard the torn, silky fabric.

Though a few days have passed since the fight without incident--much to your appreciation--you notice Paz acting differently around you and while it’s not in a bad way by any means, it still has your curiosity growing. You notice how he almost seems worried about letting you stray too far from him, though you’re certain it’s not because he’s concerned one of his own will hurt you again, but perhaps he has the same fears you hold in your very own heart. While you’ve only been with the tribe for three days, you find yourself getting less sleep with every passing day, afraid that when you wake up, you’ll be right back at the village infirmary with your estranged father.

Perhaps he’s anxious that if he lets you out of his sight, you’ll randomly decide to leave without a word or trace.

The thought amuses you and also fills your heart with grief, wondering how the Mandalorian could possibly conjure the thought of you even thinking about leaving the place that had quickly become your safe haven.

“I’m going to shower, if you want to change,” Paz gruffly voices as he approaches you with a thick, black garment and you perk up a little upon feeling how warm it is--how warm it will keep you.

Once the Mandalorian is in the refresher, you’re quick to strip your clothes, smiling softly as you neatly fold the emerald, long-sleeved dress that Ima had found for you in a designated stack of clothes that wasn’t being worn by anyone in the tribe. Once you are only in your shorts, you grab Paz’s black shirt that he must wear over all his padding and sheepishly tug it over your head, instantly relishing in how it smells just like him--all woodsy and spicy and just like the soap he uses. The material is incredibly thick, though it’s not stiff and doesn’t make it feel like you’re suffocating; it feels soft and comforting against your bare skin, engulfing you so warmly just like one of his embraces, though you still long for the intense pressure of his arms around you. The sleeves that usually come to an end just above his elbows now fall just a few inches above your wrists and the hem skims the middle of your thighs.

As you sit on the edge of the bed and get to work on tending to your braids and all the tangles from the hair you had chosen to leave down, you think of how surreal everything still feels and how all the horrors you had ever dreamed about running away from are currently above you in the village. You try your hardest not to think about it, and instead, your mind wanders to the tribe and its intimidating, rambunctious warriors that you’ve been interacting with in the covert for the past few days.

It’s been… an interesting experience, to say the least.

For people who you used to be terrified of until recently, you think it’s somewhat surprising as well as amusing that Paz had been correct when he mentioned them being quite mischievous when it came to you, though you’re certain most of it comes from you being an outsider and not understanding their language. It had already happened a couple times where you would be exploring the enclave, trying to memorize the tunnels and where different ones led, and you would run into a small group of Mandos speaking in their native tongue as you shyly approached them to introduce yourself.

Most of the time they would simply peer down at you while informing you that they already knew who you were--that they had seen you standing your ground against Paz, which apparently nobody in the tribe had ever really done before. It was quite interesting seeing everyone’s perspective towards their heavy-infantry warrior, how they knew him to be one of the strongest in the tribe and how they respected him for it. However, it was also slightly amusing that they seemed to have no problem making jokes at his expense--talking about how they were glad you were at the covert so he would stop being grouchy and angry all the time.

Ima, you found, was the exact same way, although she had no qualms about berating the man she called her uncle to his face.

Seeing the way the teenager and your blue warrior interacted with one another felt like some sort of special phenomenon that you had never really witnessed before--a relationship stronger than that between a sister and a brother, but not quite as profound as one between a daughter and father. You thought uncle and niece was a good way to describe it and though you’re curious as to why Ima doesn’t call anyone else in the tribe ‘brother’ or ‘sister’, you decide it’s better not to ask for the sake of accidentally bringing up a sad memory.

You’re too deep into your thoughts that you don’t notice a hulking figure emerge from the refresher minutes later, a few water droplets dripping down his shoulders and back as he mindlessly observes you combing through your hair with your fingers.

A small cough startles you and you turn your head to gaze at Paz, his helmet slightly tilted to the side as he stares at you through the guise of that unforgiving visor. Your fingers are still threaded in your damp hair, your bare legs dangling off the side of his bed with your sock-clad toes barely skimming the stone floor as you blink owlishly at him, still not used to seeing him expose so much of his skin.

He’s not saying anything and it has you slightly worried--have you done something wrong?

“Paz, are you okay?”

His bare, broad shoulders tense upwards when you shift on the bed, finally working through a stubborn tangle as you tilt your head at him; you find yourself doing that a lot more lately and you think being surrounded by so many Mandalorians has their little mannerisms rubbing off on you.

You move to get up when he doesn't say anything, now worried that you really have done something wrong, but Paz shakes his head and squashes your worries immediately.

"No--I mean, yes," He huffs and shakes his helmet a little harder when you stand up next to the bed to pull the thick fur away from the pillows it's tucked under while he moves to turn off the lights, "I'm fine, just a little tired, cyare."

You nod your understanding, feeling your own exhaustion creeping up on you, though today had been a relatively easy day in regards to treating scrapes and bruises. You’ve come to find that some of the younger, less trained Mandalorians aren’t exactly the most graceful on their feet, some tripping over their own capes while descending staircases, while others who are less skilled with blades or blasters manage to slip up and injure themselves. It’s definitely not the kind of injuries you’re used to tending--minor ones--but you find it much more pleasant and rewarding than your job in the village, especially when everyone here has treated you politely, for the most part.

You know that even while you had been accepted into the tribe, it doesn’t quite make you part of the family to some, especially to those who still felt as though you should swear the creed to be fully accepted. It was a big detail you had worried about quite a bit, whether or not you would have to swear the creed and wear a helmet just as the rest of them, but you think that perhaps it is a topic you should speak to the armorer about.

You slide underneath the heavy fur and exhale a content sigh, reminding yourself that such worries could wait until morning.

A yawn leaves you just as you hear the quiet hiss of Paz’s helmet being removed before he places it on his nightstand and a tired smile stretches your lips when you feel the mattress dip underneath the weight of the warrior’s body.

Before you can even turn to face him, his huge arm is wrapped around your waist and he’s carefully moving you closer to him; an intense warmth spreads throughout your cheeks when he holds you close, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he wastes no time in placing a kiss to the top of your damp hair. You can feel the heat from his bare chest already spreading throughout your entire body and you curl your legs back to press your feet against his bare ankles.

He lets out a small huff as he curls his fingers into the soft material of his shirt covering your abdomen and leans down to press a tender kiss to your cheek, “You are lucky I love you, or else I would not let you wear socks in our bed.”

The ‘our bed’ comment definitely doesn’t go over your head and you hold back a giggle when he sighs against your warm skin, his thumb stroking firm circles near your belly button, “I cannot help it that my feet are always cold.”

His chest rumbles with a soft laugh as he settles behind you, his hand moving a little lower to your hip, just underneath where your cauterized wound is still healing, and he gives you a gentle squeeze, “I told you that you’d do nothing to warm our bed up, mesh’la, I knew I was right. You’re always freezing.”

“If I recall correctly, you told me that you would not mind keeping me warm,” You remind him of what he had said the night he had told you his name, your cheeks growing hot when you feel his lips against the outer shell of your ear, “And you are doing no such thing, ori kebiin.”

“You are a funny woman,” Paz is still trying not to laugh as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, long fingers splayed widely against your burning cheeks, “You feel plenty warm to me, sweetheart.”

Realizing that there’s no way of beating the Mandalorian at his own game, you give up and simply shuffle your curled toes between his calves, making him grunt a little when he feels the blocks of ice that are your sock-clad feet through the material of his sleep pants. He cups your jaw and urges your head to the side a little, using his thumb that’s pressed to the corner of your lips to seek them out with his own.

This close intimacy is certainly another thing you’ve noticed since you forgave him after the fight--him wanting to kiss and touch you whenever it’s just the two of you. It’s definitely something you don’t mind, you realize as his tongue firmly swipes across your bottom lip, and you find yourself growing more comfortable and relaxed when it comes to accepting little touches from him. You can tell that it’s something he’s nervous about when you two are just laying in his bed, wide awake when sleep refuses to wrap itself around the two of you--that he’s worried something he does will set you off.

He always tries to keep his touches to your thighs and hips feather-light after politely asking if it’s okay for him to touch you there and a part of you wonders if he’s already concluded that you’re simply not used to people asking you for consent when it comes to certain things.

Even if it’s not the reason why, you’re still grateful he always asks and his consideration fills your heart with warmth whenever he seems so hellbent on making sure you’re comfortable when you two find yourself in these sort of intimate settings. It doesn’t necessarily feel like it’s him testing your boundaries, but more so him seeing what you like and what gets certain noises out of you, though you find your skin quite sensitive to every nip and lick he inflicts on you.

A part of you is grateful that he usually lies on his back when the two of you are holding one another, as the thought of being pinned underneath anyone again, even your blue warrior, lingers like a storm cloud in the back of your mind.

Currently, however, you focus on the way his fingers tentatively curl around your thigh, just below the hem of the shirt he had given you and your lashes flutter as he guides your head back a little so he has more access to your throat. He seems a little more eager tonight, you think, and as his fingers curl into the thick fabric at your thighs while he dutifully presses tender kisses to your sensitive skin, you start to slowly put the pieces together.

“Paz?” His name comes out in the form of a breathy whisper as he settles back to press a kiss into your damp hair.

He still seems slightly dazed as he brings his arm back to curl tightly around your waist, “Hm?”

“Earlier, when you were staring at me when you came out of the shower,” You grin a little when you feel the way his arms tense around your middle, “Was it… is it because I’m wearing your shirt?”

Paz huffs an amused noise and you’re certain you’ve left him flustered for once as he slowly shifts his body until he’s able to rest his chin against the slope of your neck, “I like the way you look in anything, cyare, but something about seeing you wearing my clothes--it does things to me. I can’t say that I am upset that your vulptex tore up your nightgown, not with how beautiful you look right now.”

“You can’t even see me right now, silly man.”

“I don’t need to,” He mumbles, his beard scratching your sensitive skin as he lazily tends to all the little marks he left behind with his lips and teeth the previous night, “I remember everything about you, ner cyare, like how your eyes always get big whenever you see me taking off my armor and my clothes. Perhaps my sweet little nurse isn’t as innocent as I thought.”

You nearly let out with a whimper when you feel his tongue on your skin, your cheeks burning furiously as his hand cautiously grazes up your thigh, “Is this okay?”

His tepid breath fanning along the column of your throat makes you shiver a little and your voice cracks a little when you speak, “Y-Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He repeats with a soft sigh, his hand moving past the little shorts you typically wear to bed and up to your bare hip, just underneath where your blaster wound is still tender, though not nearly causing you as much pain, “Stars, your skin is so damn soft and your hair smells good--just like those flowers you’re always wearing.”

You let your eyes close as he continues to explore your stomach with feather-like strokes, seeming content to simply warm you with his large hand and you feel your thighs clench together firmly when he rubs a sensitive spot just underneath your belly button. His hands are leaving a scorching blaze in their wake and you feel a deep shudder wrack your body upon feeling the wet, open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving just underneath your earlobe.

Despite the ache between your thighs, you jump when his fingertips barely graze just above the hem of your shorts and he immediately freezes upon feeling the tension in your body.

“I’m sorry,” Your ears grow hot with shame and you think he must be frustrated with you for not feeling ready to be intimate on this kind of level yet, “I just--”

“Hey, don’t you dare ever apologize for knowing when you’re not ready,” He whispers, moving his lips away from your jaw and removing his hand from underneath the shirt he let you borrow, “I shouldn’t have done that--I should have asked first.”

“It’s okay,” You weakly reassure him, smiling softly when he politely fixes your shirt, dragging the hem back down your thighs, “I... I want to be with you like that and I thought I was ready but I... I don’t know.”

“You do not owe me an explanation. I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do,” Paz promises in a rushed tone as he moves to unlatch his arm from around you, though you are quick to stop him, “I am sorry if I was too forward, cyare. I want you to only ever feel comfortable around me and if I ever do or say anything that you don’t like, please tell me, okay? I’ll never be mad at you.”

“I love you, Paz.”

He relaxes against you and presses another tender kiss into the hair above the tip of your ear, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner cyare.”

You smile into the darkness at the warmth his words bring you, though you can’t help but to feel doubt towards yourself and you turn your head a little over your shoulder until his warm breath fans across the plane of your cheek. Even though you can’t see him in the slightest, you like to imagine his eyes scanning your face thoughtfully--curiously--and you hear him let out an inquisitive hum when you murmur his name.

“I haven’t been able to sleep the last couple of days,” You admit softly, placing your hand on top of the much larger one that’s resting just under your sternum, “I’m scared that every night here is going to be my last one--that someone isn’t going to want me here because I haven’t sworn to the creed and that I don’t wear a helmet or armor.”

Paz exhales softly and you close your eyes when his minty breath tickles your nostrils, “Our alor already knows that you were to be brought to the tribe to be our nurse, not a fighter. I made it clear to everyone that you would not have to wear our armor and if anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me or the armorer. You’re not going anywhere… not if you don’t want to.”

You detect the way his voice lowers into a much more sheepish, subdued tone upon whispering the last part and your suspicions from earlier are proved correct.

He’s afraid that you’re going to change your mind about staying with the tribe.

In an attempt to squash his own fears and insecurities, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and urge his arm up past your chest until you are able to lean your head down a little and kiss his calloused knuckles tenderly. He lets out a content sigh as you let him splay his fingers out widely against the swell of your breast, your heart pounding frantically against his palm while his thumb studies your firm pulse at the base of your neck.

“I just want to be wherever you are, Paz,” You murmur, your lips stretching into a smile when he tenderly kisses your cheek again.

“I feel the same way about you,” He sighs, finally relaxing completely as you keep his hand cradled to your chest, “Anything else you’re losing sleep over, cyare?”

For a moment it sounds like he’s teasing you, but something about the rawness and sincerity of his voice makes you think differently and you swallow the lump in your throat as you think of the little boy from the nursery--the one that had clung onto your leg and hugged you. Though a part of you wants to ask Paz more about how he was found and what happened to his parents, you think it best not to ask and shake your head a little bit.

It is none of your business.

“Try to get some rest,” Paz murmurs against your cheek, his beard scratching your sensitive skin, “I’ll make sure to wake you up if you have any nightmares.”

You murmur a tired ‘thank you’ and let your eyes slip shut, feeling reassured by his words and the feathery press of his lips against the tail of your brow, along with the way his thumb continues to rest atop your pulse point at the bottom of your neck.

For once, you sleep restfully--not necessarily dreaming of much, but not really having any nightmares either. You’re stuck in a strange limbo for the rest of the night and at one point, you feel Paz stroking your brow in an effort to calm you down upon feeling your body jolt when you wake from a strange dream that has you crying out.

As you fall back asleep underneath the comforting guidance of his hands and sweet whispers against the shell of your ear, you briefly wonder if the heavy-infantry warrior ever sleeps.

The next morning when you wake up and tiredly crack your eyes open, Paz is already fumbling around the little kitchenette, his helmet and underclothes now on and you prop yourself up on an elbow as you watch him set a wooden bowl down in front of your excited vulptex. The dish is filled with colorful fruit and chunks of meat and you think it must be the best meal she’s had since she was born, what with her dramatic reaction. She lets out long, happy little squeaks between bites and you think you hear something reminiscent of a laugh or a chuckle from Paz’s vocoder when he reaches out to graze a bare hand along her rocky spine.

“And here I thought you hated her,” You murmur with a yawn, stretching your arms above your head before gracelessly rolling out of bed, the room dimly lit as you make your way over to your beloved companions, “You and everyone else are always calling her a runt.”

Paz snorts and shakes his head a little, tilting his head a little as he hands you a bowl of fruit that has some yogurt underneath, “She is a runt, saviin--doesn’t mean I hate her for it. Besides, she tried to bite Djarin in the leg yesterday, so I guess she’s starting to grow on me.”

You huff a little at that as you savor the fresh berries, your taste buds still not used to such sweet food, and you shake your head at your Mandalorian, “You better not be training my sweet vulptex to attack others, Paz.”

“I would do no such thing,” Paz still sounds a little smug as he begins to put on all of his thick padding and heavy armor, “I’d only train her how to attack the bounty hunter.”

You roll your eyes and watch as he puts his armor on piece by piece, the same way he’s done it every morning for the last couple of days he’s been here. It must be a routine for him, you think as you watch him clip his pauldrons in place and work his way down his body; you find the whole process to be mesmerizing and you wonder if he’s been doing this every single day for nearly his entire life.

“I can feel you staring at me, cyare.”

You feel your cheeks warm up when you promptly turn your attention to the breakfast that Paz had kindly made for you, though you had insisted the previous mornings that you didn’t expect him to do this for you. Your heart warms when you remember how he had admitted that it made him happy to see you enjoy little basic necessities that you had been robbed of nearly your entire life and you stopped arguing after that.

Though it was only yogurt and fruit, you still felt like the most spoiled woman in the galaxy.

After completing your usual morning routine, along with braiding the top half of your hair around the crown of your head, you pick out your clothes for the day and scoop your needy little vulptex into the crook of your elbow, her favorite resting place, it seems.

“What am I going to do when she gets too big and I can’t carry her like this?”

Paz snorts as you wait for him to snap his gauntlets into place around his black, leather gloves, “If you didn’t spoil her so much and carry her around all the time, this wouldn’t be a problem, cyare.”

You pout a little at that, struggling not to smile when he gives your earlobe a playful tug once he’s finished with his big gauntlets, “Her leg is still sore--would you really be so heartless to make her walk around the covert?”

“She seemed to have no problem limping around until you showed up and started carrying her all over the place.”

Not having a solid rebuttal to the playful words, you simply shake your head and watch as he checks all the big pouches attached to his utility belt. Your eyes immediately land on the vibroblade sheathed at his hip and you let out a shaky sigh when you remember the Trandoshan, though Paz seems to notice the change in your attitude and shields that side of his body from you.

“C’mon cyare, we have a long day.”

Following close behind Paz, the two of you make your way out of his private quarters and down the tunnels where others are starting to trickle out of their rooms as well. You’ve come to find that with the exception of a few Mandos, the tribe tends to stick to a pretty strict routine of going to bed at a certain time and waking up earlier, though you find this to work out quite nicely for you. Whereas once you were getting two or three hours of sleep a night, along with maybe a thirty minute nap on your break, you now have the entire night to rest, even if you don’t always get the best sleep.

Perhaps he’s worried that you’ll get lost, even though you memorized the directions to your little office on the second day of being at the covert, but you allow Paz to guide you there anyways, grateful for his company when you know you won’t see him until tonight. Though you feel slightly sad upon making it to your destination, you’re somewhat anxious and eager to see what today brings you and who you might meet.

With a gentle kiss of his Beskar forehead against yours, you and the heavy-infantry warrior part ways for the day and you contentedly enter the little office that you had managed to clean up pretty well since your arrival. As you enter the little alcove, something feels off and you quickly detect the sounds of soft hums and discontented grunts.

You freeze upon finding out that you are not the only one occupying the room and your brows shoot up at the strange spectacle taking place in front of you.

In front of your desk, where you had placed a small pot of violets that you’d taken from the room Paz and Ima had decorated for you, is an unarmored Mandalorian who’s currently inspecting something you wrote down on a little notepad the previous day. Though the Mando is wearing a light grey helmet with chipped away emeral trimmings around the visor and cheeks, you think they must be one of the elders in the tribe, what with their hunched over form, wavering hands, and the long staff they wield.

You don’t miss the sharp, pointed tip of the walking stick that is made from what you’re certain is Beskar and you make sure to approach slowly, not wanting to frighten the Mandalorian, though the thought of you startling a warrior is slightly amusing to you.

They’re humming something that you can barely make out through their modulator and your lips instantly stretch into a faint grin when you realize they’re reading the little list you had started of all the Mandalorians you had met in the tribe so far, along with the colors of their armor and their names to help you memorize the people who are supposed to be your new family. You watch with curiosity as the unarmored Mandalorian grabs one of your pens from the little cup next to your notepad, leaning down to try to scribble something down, though they seem to grow frustrated with how shaky their hands are.

You decide to step in when you hear a disgruntled voice uttering curse words under their breath that you’ve never even heard Paz say before and your cheeks grow warm.

“Hello, may I help you?”

Immediately, the Mandalorian whips around with a small gasp, making you jump as well and you hastily take a few steps backwards when they turn around to face you, their hand pressed tight to where their heart must be frantically pounding, just like yours currently is. Your eyes are wide, hands nervously clutched together as the Mandalorian tilts their faded, scuffed up helmet to the side while observing you closely. Though you think they must be elderly, they stand about only one or two inches taller than you and you’re finally grateful to meet someone who isn’t terrifyingly large or as tiny as one of the younglings.

“You cannot sneak up on me like that!” He lightly admonishes in a deep, gruff voice, still holding his bare, wrinkled hand over his heart, “I am not nearly as alert as I used to be, but it doesn’t mean I can’t deal out some damage still.”

He lifts the staff to show you the pointed, steel bottom of it and you immediately nod your understanding, bowing your head a little, “Of course, I am so sorry! I wasn’t sure if you were hurt or not and I just thought…”

You bite your bottom lip nervously--what were you even thinking?

“Ah, I see,” He seems to relax then, pulling out the chair in front of your desk and sinking down into it with a pained grunt while you continue to wring your fingers together in an anxious manner, “So you must be my replacement--the nurse Paz insisted on bringing to the tribe.”

Maker, did your Mandalorian actually tell the entire damn tribe about you?

Your leg bounces as soon as you take a seat at the end of the medical cot and you brush a few unruly hairs from your forehead before speaking to the elderly man, “I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a replacement, sir. I’m sure I could never be as good of a medic as you are for your people. I’m just here to help out as much as I can.”

He chuckles and shakes his helmet at your humbled statement, propping his steel cane against his thigh and you feel a twinge of sadness deep within your soul as he stares down at his trembling hands. You notice his right hand is trembling more than the left and you think that must be his dominant hand--the one he would typically use for certain medical procedures--and you remember what Paz had mentioned about the tribe’s medic growing too ill and shaky to actually help others.

‘No wonder why the office was so dusty and everything was unused,’ you think to yourself sorrowfully, your eyes taking in all the big dents and scuff marks on his gray and crimson helmet.

“Hey, don’t give me those sad eyes, little one,” He admonishes you again and though you don’t remember having any kind of grandparent in your life, you think being scolded by this man must be what it feels like to have one, “I was told by Paz that you are a tough one--a warrior, just like us.”

You offer him a wry smile, “I suppose he didn’t tell you that I tend to cry quite a bit as well?”

“Oh, he definitely mentioned that,” The Mandalorian chortles and you can’t help but to grin at that, immediately feeling better at how playful he sounds, “I was hoping he was messing around with me--our people aren’t exactly the best with tears and emotions, but I suppose it is not a bad thing. During times like these, the tribe could use a little more happiness and vulnerability.”

You contemplate his words deeply, thinking of the few times Paz had informed you that because of the Empire, his people were nearly extinct and you wonder how this stranger could so easily accept you into the tribe without really knowing you. Seeing how worn out and damaged his dented helmet is, you can’t help but to wonder what he’s been through and though he seems to be more of an eccentric member of the tribe, you’re certain he’s been through hell and back.

“If you do not mind me asking--” You offer him a fond gaze, your smile growing when he tilts his helmet dramatically to the side, his Beskar cheek nearly touching his shoulder, “May I have your name? I am trying to learn who everyone is, but the visors are all the same and sometimes the color of armor is similar and--”

“I get it,” The older man sounds like he’s amused and you briefly wonder if he was once an outsider like you, though you find it rude to ask, “I was about to write it in your little notebook, but I fear my hands are too unsteady for you to understand my writing, little one.”

You perk up and quickly stand up, making your way over to where he’s sitting before you crouch down in front of your desk and grab one of the several pens in the little cup near your notebook. The Mandalorian makes a funny noise as you give him an inquisitive glance, wordlessly asking for his name with a quirk of your brow and though he wears a typical Mandalorian helmet, you think he must be grinning underneath his Beskar guise.

“Ezir Ralas.”

You somehow manage to write down his name as fast as he spells it out for you and you grin at how demanding he sounds upon spelling every single letter out and how he describes the exact colors of his faded helmet. There’s something about his lighthearted tone that makes you think he’s not as intimidating as every other warrior you’ve encountered since being brought to the covert.

“Well, it is lovely to meet you, sir,” You beam at him as you make your way back to the medical cot to sit on while you wait for your first patient of the day, “Have you been the tribe’s nurse for very long?”

He chuckles again, long fingers curling against his knees, “Oh yes, I’ve been with the tribe since we were forced into hiding years ago. Before all of this, however, I was a field medic for my people on Mandalore, back during our civil war.”

“Oh, I um, I had no idea there was a civil war,” You frown at this new information, briefly wondering if Paz knows about this, though you think he must, “That must have been so scary to be out there on a battlefield, trying to save your own people.”

He lets out a small grunt as he leans forward to rest his forearms atop his thighs, “Even though I am a medic, I was also born and raised a fighter, little one. Though the things I have seen haunt me at night when I cannot sleep, I would not so willingly admit that I was ever afraid.”

You slowly nod and gaze down at the steel pendant that hangs between his collarbones and you recognize it as the one you often see around the covert, or in the morning when Paz tucks his own into the collar of his tunic. Seeming to recognize your curiosity towards the skull sigil, he unties the knot at his nape and holds out the necklace for you to inspect up close.

With great eagerness, you reach forward to accept the kind gesture, “Is it rude of me to ask what this is?”

“It is not rude,” Ezir sounds amused by your curiosity and your cheeks grow warm as you trace over the sharp horns protruding from the cheeks of the skull with your thumbs, “It is the skull of a beast that was once native to Mandalore--the mythosaur. They were these enormous monsters with teeth and horns sharper than a sword made of Beskar and when they tried to attack my ancestors, we either slayed them or conquered them and rode them as transportation.”

“How big were they?”

“Massive,” He flippantly waves a hand in the air, appearing far too nonchalant while speaking of terrifying beasts, “Well, I would imagine they’re the size of the village currently above us, little one.”

Your eyes grow wide and a chuckle escapes past his modulator at how incredulous you sound, “And you’re ancestors fought them?”

“Without hesitation,” He informs you and though the image of a monster so fearsome and enormous terrifies you, it also fills you with feelings of reverence and awe, “After the beasts went extinct, the mythosaur skull became a symbol of our people and all that we had overcome; it is a symbol of our history and culture.”

You hum quietly, barely noticing the way his tilted visor is trained on the way you tenderly trace all the curves and divots of the pendant with admiration, a smile tugging at your lips as you think of the symbolism behind the sigil. Suddenly, you understand why people have always murmured terrifying rumors of the Beskar-clad enigmas and you think it must be true that they’re the strongest warriors in the galaxy. You wonder what it must feel like to exude such power to the point where people fear you without even knowing who you are and though you still regret feeling so much terror upon initially meeting Paz, you’re suddenly grateful that you’d eventually let him into your heart.

“Perhaps one day, you will have one of your own,” Ezir concedes and your head snaps up to peer at him with shock; you hand the pendant back out for him to take, feeling undeserving to be holding something so precious to his people, “Oh, don’t give me that look. You may not wear our helmet or armor, but once I teach you some Mando’a and get a weapon in your hand, you’ll be a fearsome warrior.”

You think of what Paz had mentioned about the others in the tribe teaching you Mando’a, and while you’ve only known him for a few minutes, he seems to be a respectful man, albeit a little quirky.

“What does riduur mean?” You blurt out, your skin instantly growing warm when you see Ezir’s shoulders shaking as he laughs at the innocent question; suddenly, you fear that everyone has been saying something demeaning about you, “I just... everyone in the tribe keeps calling me ‘Paz’s riduur’ and I--it’s not an insult, right? They’re always laughing when they say it.”

He shakes his head as his laughter eventually ceases, “No, little one, it is quite the opposite of an insult, but rather a term of endearment. I do not think it is my place to tell you what it means and I am not sure if Paz has the guts to actually tell you, but I can say that I am certain you will find out for yourself one day when he calls you that himself.”

Your leg bounces anxiously as you watch him situate his mythosaur pendant between his collarbones and as you think of all the meanings that the word possibly possesses, one stands out to you the most.

“Is it something I would be allowed to say to him as well in the future?”

“Yes,” He reaches down to pet your vulptex that’s awkwardly making her way towards his boots, sounding utterly entertained by your inquiry, “Though I cannot promise you that his brain wouldn’t combust if he heard you call him that.”

“Then perhaps I would call him that as payback for all the times he’s teased me about certain things.”

Ezir guffaws at that, remaining diligent in petting the lazy vulptex that’s headbutting his calf in a needy manner, “I like you, little one. I almost didn’t believe Ima when she told me you had stopped the fight between Din and Paz, let alone when she informed me that you had stood up for yourself and the bounty hunter.”

You watch as the older man awkwardly scoops the little vulptex into his arms and you’re grateful that not many seem to mind her presence in the covert, as you’re not sure what you would have done had you been forced to get rid of her.

“I have been belittled by men all my life,” You shyly admit, staring at the little creature that’s reaching up in an attempt to bite his pendant, though Ezir doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest as you continue, “And for the longest time, I just learned to keep my mouth shut and deal with it because that’s just the way I was raised, I suppose. These last couple of days have taught me that it does not make me a bad person for only wanting to be treated with respect and my only regret is that I did not realize this sooner in life. Perhaps I’d be a stronger woman if I had realized my worth at a younger age.”

No longer is Ezir petting the vulptex, but instead, he now has his visor trained on you and in return, you offer him a small smile. He remains deathly silent for at least a minute before giving you a curt nod, as though he approves of either you or just your declaration in general.

“In our language, we have a word that I think perfectly describes you, little one,” His gruff, filtered voice drops to something softer as he watches you perk up with curiosity, “Ramikadyc--it means that you have the tenacity and determination of a Mandalorian, that you have our mindset.”

Your heart instantly swells with gratitude and you shyly cross your ankles together as you wring your fingers together on top of your lap, “I would hardly compare myself to your people. I do not think I would have the tenacity or determination to fight against one of those mythosaurs that your ancestors slayed.”

“Something tells me you and I are not too different,” Ezir informs you with what you think is mirth laced within his deep voice, “I do not think you would hesitate to put yourself in harm’s way if it meant protecting someone you care for or someone you do not wish to see to get hurt.”

You smile softly and give him a slight nod as you think of the bounty hunter that you had stood up for, despite him not deserving it, or even your little vulptex that you had taken a blaster shot for. If Ezir truly thinks that you have the heart of a warrior, then he must be saying it for a good reason and his words, along with Ima’s and Paz’s confidence in you, fills you with a little more hope in regards to your future with the tribe.

“Will you tell me more about you?”

“I am afraid my stories might bore you to the point of insanity,” Ezir chuckles, shifting in his seat a little so he can hold your vulptex in a more comfortable position, “But since you seem so curious, what is it you wish to know, little one?”

“Can you tell me more about Mandalore and the civil--?”

Before you can finish, a deep baritone from the entrance of your office interrupts your inquiry and both you and Ezir immediately turn around to find your blue Mandalorian standing tall behind another unarmored Mando, though this one is still taller than you and Ezir. The smaller Mando is holding their wrist protectively against their chest and it takes a few seconds for you to recognize the warrior as one of the younger ones that seems to have a knack for constantly getting hurt during training.

“Saviin’ika,” Paz greets politely with a slight nod, cocking his helmet to the side upon noticing who’s been keeping you company in the short amount of time you two have been apart, “Ezir.”

You raise your brows at the way your warrior tenses up a little upon seeing the elderly man, though you manage to get in a word before any of the Mandalorians can say anything, your attention focused on the injured boy.

“Is your wrist hurt?”

The unarmored Mando peers up at Paz with what you think must be a wary expression through his visor--something that your warrior immediately picks up on. With absolutely no hesitation, the heavy-infantry warrior murmurs something to the younger Mando in his native tongue and you raise your head with anticipation and a kind smile. As though that’s all the confirmation of the young teenager--Vhan--needs, he nods a little and you slide off the end of the cot so your first patient of the day can sit down.

You give the boy a small, encouraging smile as he takes his glove off and pushes up his sleeve to reveal a swollen wrist, “What happened?”

“It was my fault,” Paz says immediately, making you raise your brows in surprise at the thought of him somehow hurting someone so young, “He was sparring with his brother and I looked away for a minute. He fell and landed right on his wrist.”

You frown a little at the guilt in his voice, though judging by the exasperated sigh that wafts past Vhan’s modulator, you think this must be a common occurrence amongst the younger ones who get hurt on Paz’s watch.

“Well, it’s hard to tell for sure without x-rays,” You manage to rotate Vhan’s wrist in the slightest, a gesture that seems to cause minimal pain to the boy, “But it looks like it’s just a minor sprain, since there seems to be no crooked bones and you can still move it around a little. Nothing too serious and nothing to feel bad about.”

Paz lets out a relieved huff at the news, though you know your blue warrior enough to know he’s not going to let the guilt down so easily, especially not when it pertains to one of the younger members of the tribe. A knowing grin stretches your lips when Vhan groans, and now you’re certain this isn’t the first time Paz has been worried like a mother hen over the clumsy teen. Though the blue warrior has quite the reputation among all the adults in the covert, it seems he also has a completely different persona when he’s with the younger ones.

“See? I told you it’s fine. Can I go back to training now?” Vhan insists, moving to hop off of the cot, though you are quicker to stop him by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Uh uh,�� You shake your head, earning another groan from the teen and what you’re sure are surprised expressions from the two other men occupying the room, “Just because it’s a sprain doesn’t mean you can go running off just to damage it even further. You should at least rest it for forty-eight hours and put some ice on it every thirty minutes for two hours until the pain goes away. Also try to keep it elevated as much as possible.”

“That’s so much work for a little sprain though!” Vhan argues and you let out a soft sigh as you begin to compress his wrist with a thick bandage, “Can’t I just--”

“Hey!” Ezir suddenly sounds annoyed, and you’re surprised when the boy tenses up a little, just as Paz had earlier, and something about their reactions has you growing even more curious to what kind of reputation the elder has among his family, “Listen to the nurse, di’kut. She only wants what’s best for you.”

“Yes sir,” Vhan mumbles, though you can tell he’s still not happy about it when he turns his visor to you, “S-Sorry, Saviin’ika.”

You blink your surprise at him calling you the familiar nickname, but eventually you give him a kind smile and stand up to retrieve your roll of ice wraps, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure it must be difficult for you to miss out on training, but it really is for your own good. I don’t have the resources here to fix your wrist if it was seriously broken, so it’s detrimental to make sure that the sprain heals properly before doing any serious training again. Perhaps there is… um, maybe something else you can do in the meantime that’s not too strenuous?”

He perks up a little and hope instantly flares in your chest as he gives you an eager nod before turning to look at Paz, “You told me the other day that you would show me how to take apart an assault rifle and put it back together--would that be okay?”

Paz glances at you and the boy’s eager tone makes it hard for you to say no, so you give your warrior a reluctant nod as you finish tying the ice wrap around his swollen wrist, “Just as long as you make sure to not move your wrist around too much and keep the ice wrap on, okay?”

“Alright!” He’s instantly hopping off the cot and you chuckle at his newfound excitement, “Thanks vod’ika!”

You huff a little, opening your mouth to stubbornly remind him that you’re far older than him, though he cuts you off with a quick headbutt to your forehead; while it’s not too harsh of a harsh gesture, it’s certainly not as gentle as all the times Paz has performed the same action. You rub your tender forehead as Paz turns to the side a little so Vhan can make his way, presumably, to the armory. Paz shakes his helmet in an exasperated manner as he steps toward you, most likely to get a look at your forehead, but Ezir’s small grunts as he slowly stands up has your full attention.

Instinctively, you move to help the elder up from your office chair, noticing his slight struggle to stand and you force yourself not to cringe at the numerous pops and cracks coming from his knees and back. After a lifetime of fighting and being a medic, you’re certain it’s taken a toll on him, though he simply chuckles a little and pats your back as you both make your way over to Paz.

“I suppose I should take this as my sign to leave you to your duties for the day, verd’ika,” You beam at the new nickname as he carefully grabs onto your elbow for better balance while you lead him to the entrance where Paz is still standing with a cocked helmet, “I’ll have to look for my old medical books and datapads for you to read.”

“Oh, thank you!” Happiness and warmth instantly blankets your heart at his consideration, gratitude filling your soul when you realize that he seems to approve of you being the tribe’s new nurse, “I would love that very much, if it’s not too much of a hassle.”

“Of course not,” He gives your hand a little pat before latching onto a grumpy Paz’s elbow instead, “I’ll just make this one help me later since he can reach the higher shelves.”

“I have other things to--”

Jutting a thumb out in your direction over his shoulder, Ezir sends a rough little whack! of his walking stick to Paz’s armored shin, “It is good she is here with the tribe now--perhaps she can teach you and everyone else some manners, you big brute.”

“Yeah, ori kebiin,” You giggle in a teasing manner, earning a small grunt from the blue warrior, “Would it really kill you to learn a few manners?”

Ezir lets out a loud laugh that has Paz shaking his helmet at you, and though you know you’ll soon regret it, you think it’s worth the delightful torment he’ll inflict on you later when the two of you are alone. Without another word, Paz reaches out to give your nape a tender squeeze before leaving you alone to your thoughts in your little office, though you think that seeing Ezir and helping Vhan has already given you a bright start to your day.

With a faint smile stretched along your lips, you add a few comments to your little notepad and take inventory of the supplies you have and what you need for the next time Paz goes on a supply run. For the most part, the day goes by slowly and uneventfully--something you are actually grateful for, what with being so used to the chaos that came as a result of working in a village full of crime and those with cruel hearts.

Needless to say, you don’t mind a calm day in the slightest and when Ima passes your office hours later to politely inform you that training and sparring lessons are done for the day, you’re grateful that no serious injuries were sustained. Packing up your things and making sure your office is in order, you turn off the lights and exit your office, eager to explore the covert a little more and go to the room that Paz and Ima had decorated for you.

After conversing with a few of the Mandalorians you had befriended in the short amount of time you’ve been at the covert, you happily make your way down the stairs that you know leads to everyone’s private quarters, as well as the nursery and your little flower alcove.

You hum a mindless tune to yourself as you stroll down the long tunnel, smiling when the atmosphere gets a little warmer when you pass the shielded alcove that leads into the nursery; your walking slows a little and you’re half tempted to go inside and say hi to the little ones, though you don’t want to cause any chaos again, especially so late in the day. Reluctantly, you continue past the nursery and make your way to the little room Paz and Ima had decorated with your flowers, your vulptex resting comfortably in your arms as you two seek out relaxation.

“I need to think of a name for you, little one,” You murmur, earning a soft gaze from her, crimson eyes slowly blinking up at you, “Maybe I should ask one of the younglings to come up with one. They must be far more creative than me.”

She simply answers you with a dramatic huff as you continue down the path that Paz had already taken you down a few times.

You’re completely oblivious to the little footsteps following you far behind.

Finally, you make it to your beloved sanctuary and let out a relieved sigh upon seeing all your growing flowers and the lights that hang above them. Placing your little vulptex on the center of the desk where you had placed a little pillow for her, you dutifully water the plants and flowers that look like they need it the most. It’s comforting to have a little place of your own, especially after dealing with so many of the boisterous warriors all day and while you feel as though you’re slowly getting used to their antics, you realize you truly had no idea what you were getting yourself into upon agreeing to be the tribe’s nurse.

A small smile quirks at the corners of your lips as you feel the tiniest ache in your temple where the younger Mandalorian had headbutted his gratitude a little too roughly earlier, though warmth fills your heart when you remember how he had referred to you as his sister.

You’re in the middle of checking on your little violets when your vulptex raises her head in a jolting manner; immediately, you turn around, expecting Paz or perhaps Ima needing you to tend to someone’s wound.

It is neither one of them, you realize with surprise.

You let out a little gasp upon seeing a pair of wide, fearful eyes poking from the tiny crack between the curtains and the doorway and you instantly recognize the sad, golden brown orbs from days ago in the nursery.

“Oh, it’s okay, little one!” You give him a warm smile that instantly seems to allay some of the despair in his big eyes, “You may come in, if you’d like.”

Hesitantly, he makes his way into the unfamiliar room, looking like a lost animal that’s experiencing a new environment for the first time and you think you know the feeling all too well; even after spending a few days at the covert, you still feel quite lost and you can’t possibly imagine what this child is going through.

You blink your surprise when he gets halfway across the room before spotting your lazy vulptex who is still curled up on your desk, staring at the boy curiously, though not unkindly in the slightest. Carefully, you make your way closer to the little who simply stares up at you with wide starry eyes, his hands clasped together politely in front of him and your heart melts at how nervous and scared he seems.

“It’s okay, little one,” You reassure him in a calm, hushed tone, reaching your hand out for him to take, “She loves younglings very much and would never hurt you, I promise.”

The curly-haired boy shifts his gaze between you and your rocky companion before ultimate latching onto your hand with his. Cautiously and without any force, you guide him closer to your desk where the vulptex is still observing the little boy with gentle eyes; you think that on top of being intelligent, her species must also be quite empathetic and can differentiate a kind soul from a dark one.

“Is it okay if I pick you up?” You question the boy softly, earning you a shy nod as an answer, and you carefully haul him up to the chair in front of your desk, keeping a hand pressed to the back of his shoulders to keep him steady, should he stumble, “If you want to hold your hand out to sniff it, it’ll be a sign that you want to be her friend.”

His eyes widen a little more and you can’t help but to grin as he holds a shaking hand out for the rocky vulpine to sniff eagerly, his other hand pressed shyly to his cheek in anticipation. A tiny, childish giggle meets your ears and warms your heart as the vulptex licks his palm, though he is quick to pull his damp hand back and wipe it on his beige tunic with a scrunched up expression. When he smiles up at you, you’re certain your heart is going to melt into a big puddle of goo in the pit of your stomach and you offer him one in return, smoothing his dark, unruly curls away from his forehead.

“See? She knows you’re brave and likes you now.”

He gives you a toothy grin and you feel a lovely warmth in your soul knowing that you were able to provide some emotional reprieve for the sweet child.

“Did you sneak away from the nursery, little one?” You ask him gently, not wanting him to think you’re upset with him at all; he simply drops his head in shame and you continue to stroke his curls in an attempt to comfort him, “It’s okay! You’re not in trouble, I promise. I just want to know why.”

For a moment, you don’t think he’s going to answer as he keeps his head lowered, but then he eventually peers up at you and whispers his response in a tiny, meek voice.

“Y-You were singing,” He explains quietly, and you realize he must have heard you humming and followed you all the way here, “‘M sorry.”

“Hey, no, none of that,” You crouch down in front of him so he’s taller than you while he stands on your chair and you give him a kind smile, “It’s okay, but how about next time you just ask the caretaker on duty, alright? They’ll come find me, wherever I may be.”

He gives you a shy nod, seeming thoughtful for a few moments as he presses a chubby index finger to his pouting lips, “Do I have to go back?”

You should say yes and you know it, but his eyes are all but pleading with you to say no and he looks so hopeful that you’ll let him keep you company. You think he must feel just as out of place as you do, not knowing who to talk to or who to trust, though you seem to be the one person he finds solace in.

How could you destroy that tiny amount of trust he already has in you?

You give him a tiny smile and shake your head, “You may stay for a little while, but I fear I do not make for the most exciting company, little one.”

The boy doesn’t say anything to that and you blink your surprise when he reaches out to clumsily touch the thick braid wrapped around your crown, along with the few flowers that you had strategically placed throughout the weaves that morning when Paz had been watching you. He seems curious by the vibrant flora, his eyes blinking and flickering with awe and you bow your head a little so he can get a better look at them.

“Do you like flowers?” You ask him quietly when he eventually ceases his exploration, and you look up to see him giving you a shy little nod, “What’s your favorite kind?”

You expect him to not know many, especially if he’s spent his few years of life on Nevarro, though he surprises you when he speaks in a barely there whisper, “I like roses--like the ones my ‘gramma used to paint.”

You’re desperately inclined to ask more about his grandmother--if he had any parents and what planet he had been saved from, but if he’s the covert’s newest foundling, the wounds on his heart and mind must still be so fresh and you do not wish to infect it further with your invasive questions. Instead, you force yourself to give him a warm, big smile and somehow manage to keep the tears out of your eyes when his chubby fingers find the little blue flower that Paz had tucked behind your ear earlier in the morning.

“Yeah? I bet they were beautiful,” You grin and he gives you a fervent little nod to confirm your thoughts, “What color roses did she paint?”

And what you thought was only going to be a ten or twenty minute interaction with the boy ends up to be more than an hour and a half long meeting where the two of you talk about harmless topics like flowers, favorite animals, different types of stars and constellations. Though for once, you do most of the talking and you are more than satisfied to describe the beautiful hot springs and caves that Paz had taken you to, sparing all the mushy details that you knew would probably gross out a child.

“He’s scary,” The boy murmurs as you tell him of the story, at least the clean version, of how Paz had stood up for you the night you first found your vulptex, “They all are--they don’t smile.”

“Well of course they do,” You inform the little one, curling a finger against his cheek and earning a tiny giggle, “Everyone smiles, you just can’t see it because they wear their helmets to honor their creed. It does not mean they are robots or incapable of feeling the same emotions we do.”

He’s perched on one of your thighs, seeming comfortable as he softly pets the sleeping vulptex and you smile down at him sympathetically upon realizing he’s still apprehensive of the armored warriors, “I was scared of Paz at first too, but he turned out to be one of the kindest, most honorable men I have ever met. These people are not cruel, but I understand why you are afraid, little one. I have only been here for three days and I am still learning how to fit in as well. Perhaps we can figure this out together.”

He gives you another toothy grin and nods, seeming comforted by your words as he leans back into you and your heart aches at the trust he shows in you; a part of you wonders if it’s because he can actually see your face. You’re not entirely sure of what to say as he continues to pet the sleepy animal, smiling whenever he hears the soft squeaks that the vulptex lets out every now and then.

“Do you have a name little one?” You ask kindly--tenderly--hoping that the question won’t overwhelm him as he tilts his head to stare up at you.

You truly don’t think he’s going to answer you, but then after a few moments of silence, he lowers his head a little, not looking you in the eyes.

“Odisian.”

“Odisian... what a lovely name,” You repeat it with a grin, earning a shy smile from him, “Is it okay if I call you Odi? Or do you prefer your full name?”

Suddenly, he beams up at you and kicks his legs a little, as if having a nickname makes him feel more at home, “I like Odi!”

Your cheeks nearly hurt from how big you’re smiling at him and you nod, deciding it’s best not to dwell too much on his own name or what nicknames he might have had before being brought to the covert. You straighten your spine a little and reach out to pet your little vulptex who keens under all the adoration and attention she’s suddenly receiving from you and the little one.

“Would you like to pick out a name for her?” You ask him softly, tilting your head to the side when he gives you an expression filled with awe and wonder, like he can’t believe you are asking him to do such a thing, “She needs one and I do not think I am creative enough to bestow her with such an honor.”

Odi swings his legs nervously and you can’t help but to grin as he seems to seriously contemplate this huge decision, his tiny hand squeezing his cheeks together in great concentration. You remain patient with him as he turns his head a little to stare at all the flowers on your desk and the colorful vines that are draping off the edge of the shelves attached to the wall with admiration.

“Rosie?”

He says it more as a question, like he’s nervous for your response, so you offer him a warm grin when you realize this sweet child wants to name your vulptex after his own favorite flower. You wonder if he somehow knows just how much your flowers mean to you, just as Paz does, or if the flower simply has some sort of deeper meaning to him and you playfully ruffle his curls, earning you a little giggle from him.

“That is far more lovely of a name than I could ever come up for her,” You inform him, your cheeks hurting from how big of a smile you’re wearing on your face and he perks up at your reassurance, no longer seeming quite as nervous, “Her eyes are red like roses too! Is red your favorite color?”

“I like yellow,” He bashfully admits, and you nearly chuckle at the way he pronounces his ‘L’s as ‘W’s, “It is a happy color.”

You agree with him as you begin to collect some flowers for the little boy, though a part of you lamely thinks he probably doesn’t even want them. You’re in the process of pointing out all the different flowers that Paz and Ima had been so kind to plant for you in anticipation of your arrival when the drapes to your alcove shuffle to the side a little.

You’re completely unaware of how long your blue warrior is standing in the entryway, simply observing you and the little one perched contently on top of your leg who seems utterly interested in what you have to tell him about the healing properties of violets and lavender.

“Oh! And then this one right here, if you just grind it up and add it into--”

“Cyare.”

Immediately, you and Odi both turn to face where Paz is standing just feet away in front of the rounded entrance, though the little one in your arms is quick to lower his head in fear of the massive warrior. Wanting the youngling to feel more comfortable, you simply smile up at Paz, who suddenly seems frozen to his spot as he stares at you with a cocked helmet, his shoulders tense as his pauldrons inch closer to the bottom of his helmet.

“Is something wrong, Paz?”

“No, it’s just--” His helmet slightly jolts to the side and he’s acting odd as you gently heave Odi off of your lap, offering him the little bundle of flowers so he won’t feel so lonely without you by his side, “It is time for the younglings to sleep and the caretaker on duty got scared because he was missing. I thought you might know where he is and it seems as though I was right.”

Odi is staring up at you with the saddest expression, as though he’s pleading with you to not return him back to the nursery and you gently cup the back of his curls, giving him a kind smile in return. Nervously, he fiddles with his hands as you stand up, easily scooping your vulptex into the crook of your elbow, all while the little one stares up at Paz with the most frightened expression you’ve ever witnessed, hiding behind your leg.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere and you’re more than welcome to visit me anytime,” You offer him a reassuring smile as he gazes down at the little bouquet of flowers and he is quick to grab your outstretched hand with an eager expression, “C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Besides, he likes flowers too--I bet he would like it if you gave him one.”

You say the last sentence in a low whisper, as though you’re sharing some sort of gossip with him and you instantly notice the way he perks up as Paz holds the drapes to the side for you, his helmet still tilted to the side as he observes you two. Odi is still quiet and thoughtful as he stares down at the little bundle of colorful flowers you had gifted him, all while holding your hand as Paz slowly leads you through the dim tunnels.

Shyly, the child gazes up at Paz and warmth blooms in your heart and soul when he lowers his helmet to regard Odi with what you’re certain is the utmost kindness, most likely wanting nothing more than to earn the boy’s trust. Without saying anything, the little one holds up the colorful bouquet of flowers for Paz to see and you grin at the adorable interaction.

"Those are... pretty,” Paz comments in a softer voice and you can tell he’s trying to appear as placid as possible to the nervous boy, “Which one is your favorite?”

Odi lets go of your hand to press his index finger to his bottom lip in severe contemplation and you nearly chuckle at what must be a cute little habit that he does unknowingly when he’s thinking too hard. After a moment’s consideration, he points a chubby finger at one of the many violets that you had tucked in the center and you instantly grin.

“Those are my favorite too,” Paz says quietly, and you’re too focused on the way Odi is smiling down at the little bouquet to notice the Mandalorian’s visor trained on your face.

Odi seems conflicted as he gently tugs one of the violets from the middle of the colorful bundle and offers it to the huge warrior with a hopeful gaze, not saying a word throughout the entire exchange.

“What an honor,” Paz sounds like he's grinning as he accepts the little flower and Odi immediately seeks out your hand again, “Thank you.”

The youngling peers up at you with a cheerful glimmer in his eye, as though he’s proud of himself for showing such bravery and selflessness in the presence of a powerful warrior. Once you offer him a knowing smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand, Odi turns to gaze down at his colorful bouquet with a tiny grin on his face.

Content upon realizing the little one no longer seems sad or fearful, you tilt your head up to beam happily at Paz, your heart still full of love and admiration towards both him and Odi; immediately the warrior lifts his hand to tenderly stroke your cheek. The cold bite of leather nearly makes you flinch and suddenly you’re remorseful that both of your hands are occupied by your littlest companions as you now long to touch the lighter blue in the hollows of his cheeks.

It’s not until you make it back to the nursery that Odi’s smile drops and his lips form into a little pout. Paz presses his gloved hand to the small of your back to guide you further into the nursery and through a short tunnel leading the four of you to where the younglings must sleep and take their naps.

“Hey,” You whisper after the four of you enter a dimly lit room with several beds lined up; you notice the tiny lumps curled up underneath the fuzzy blankets and smile as you crouch down in front of Odi, “Remember what I said, okay? You ever want to come see me, just ask one of the caretakers. I’ll always be here for you.”

He nods, and before you can even think about standing up, he steps forward to wrap his tiny arms around your neck and you’re quick to return the sweet gesture, your free hand coming up to gently cup the back of his head. You feel his chubby fingers curl into the hair you had left unbraided that morning and smile when he holds onto you a little tighter; you can tell he’s still afraid of you leaving as an idea pops into your head.

“Since Rosie seems to like you so much, why don’t I leave her here with you for the night?” Immediately, he pulls away from you, his starry eyes wide and filled with disbelief as you gently shuffle the lazy vulpine into his awaiting arms, “She may be small, but she’s a fierce little thing that will protect you from any nightmares you may have, I promise.”

He holds the animal closer to his chest, grinning when she lifts her head to lick at his cheek and Odi instantly giggles in response. He gives you one last shy smile before making his way to his little bed and you stand up to your full height as you watch him shuffle underneath his blankets, all while holding Rosie close to his chest. It’s not until you watch his eyes close that you let out a deep exhale and you wonder when you had stopped breathing; tears nearly escape your eyes when you watch Rosie curl herself closer to the child, head tucked underneath his chin as he smiles sleepily.

“Ner cyare,” Paz whispers and you jump a little, nearly forgetting that he had been standing there this whole time; you turn to face him and you give him a questioning look when he threads his fingers through the valleys between yours, “There is something I want to show you.”

You think when he says ‘something’, he most likely means ‘someone’, and your heart thrums wildly in anticipation as he leads you away from the younglings’ sleeping quarters. The alcove he’s leading you to is the one he had popped out of a few days ago after you confronted him after the fight, you realize, and you wonder what could possibly be in the room that he seems so excited to show you.

You blink owlishly at him as he politely holds the drapes to the side for you and you hesitantly enter the warm room; instantly, another Mandalorian with black and yellow armor turns to face you and Paz. Before you can offer the stranger an affable greeting, a soft whimper cuts you off and your heart instantly freezes over when you spot a wooden crib in the corner of the dim room.

An infant…

There is an infant in the covert and the thought simultaneously terrifies you and breaks your heart.

Paz quietly says something in his mother tongue when the caretaker on duty tenses as you step forward to try to get a better look at the distressed infant, your heart now pounding so wildly that you hear it in your ears. Whatever Paz said to the caretaker immediately seems to calm them down and they simply watch as you observe the fussy baby that is kicking its little feet wildly and growing even more distressed. The infant is wearing tiny white socks and a long, dark brown tunic that falls to her ankles; her little head is adorned with a white beanie, but you see dark tufts of hair poking out from underneath.

“I… I cannot get her to stop crying,” The Mandalorian’s deep, filtered voice is coated with exhaustion and despite the tears burning your eyes, you fixate your attention on the defeated Mando, the vibrancy of the yellow stripes painted on his black armor nearly hurting your eyes, “What am I doing wrong?”

You wonder if he’s ever had to take care of an infant before, but judging by the way the black and yellow Mando shuffles around nervously makes you think it is not all too common of an occurrence in the tribe.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, shaking off your fears and insecurities as you remind yourself that you were brought here to take care of others, “O-Okay, how old is she?”

“I only found her a few weeks ago, cyare,” Paz informs you quietly, not wanting to disturb the baby even more, and you turn around to gaze up at him with wide, watery eyes; he must see the confusion etched on your features because he immediately explains himself, “I was walking back from seeing you one night and found her abandoned behind one of the vendors in the marketplace. I can’t… I can’t imagine what kind of monster does such a thing.”

You know all too well of the monsters that are capable of leaving a helpless creature behind to die, most likely feeling no guilt when they close their eyes at night.

You nod again and let out a shaky exhale as the caretaker turns his body to the side and allows you to lean over the crib, your chest aching something fierce as you carefully scoop up the tiny creature into your arms. Instantly, she lets out with a piercing, shrill scream and you heave a small sigh at how fussy of a little thing she is, though you think you already know what her problem is.

“What are you--?”

The strange Mandalorian jolts forward a little as you shuffle the crying baby around in your arms until her chest and stomach is resting against the inside of your forearm, her arms and chubby legs dangling lazily around in the air and her cheek tucked against the crook of your elbow. It takes a few moments of tenderly stroking her back to get her cries to soften into something less ear shattering, and you let out a relieved sigh when her whimpers turn into little coos and grunts.

“I think she might be colic,” You inform the caretaker with a shaky whisper, his helmet tilted to the side with what you think is either curiosity or shock as she dribbles, “I’ve uh, I’ve seen this before and read about it. Are you making sure to burp her after each feeding? Or perhaps she should be using a different formula if she has a sensitive tummy?”

“I--” He drops his helmet a little, staring at the cooing infant that you’re bouncing a little, “She wasn’t spitting anything up and I just thought… I wasn’t sure how to do it, how to burp her.”

You give the black and yellow Mando a sympathetic expression and nod, your eyes still burning with tears, “Babies can be pretty fussy sometimes, but once you find out how they like to be held and handled, it makes things a little bit easier. This tends to be a good trick at calming a lot of babies, but you need to make sure she gets burped after every feeding or else she’ll be really uncomfortable and even fussier than normal.”

“Thank you,” The caretaker nods his gratitude as you continue to stroke her back and you give him a weak smile in response, “Could you maybe get her to go to sleep? I should check on the others and I--”

‘Need a breather.’

He doesn’t say it out loud, but you hear it in the way his deep voice drops and his shoulders fall at the mere thought of having a few moments of peace and relaxation.

He fidgets when you hesitate, though Paz places a gentle hand on your nape and he must realize that something is wrong as he squeezes the warm skin there; it’s something he only does when he’s trying to comfort you. Afraid that your voice will fail you, you offer the caretaker a jittery nod and he wastes no time in leaving the nursery that’s dedicated to this tiny infant.

You find it difficult to even look at Paz as you make your way over to the rocking chair that seems far too small for any Mandalorian and slowly sink down until you’re sitting comfortably with a cooing, sleepy baby tucked in your arms. A soft sigh escapes your lungs when you feel a little bit of drool soak through the material covering your elbow and you risk a glance at Paz when he gets down on a knee next to the rocking chair, his gloved hand moving to gently squeeze your bicep.

“What happened?” He questions as quietly as possible, warranting a tiny grunt from the irascible infant, “Why are you so sad all of a sudden?”

The way he asks such a question so softly instantly leaves you feeling painfully raw and vulnerable and you are quick to shoulder away a tear before he can wipe it away for you; you shake your head viciously, “It’s nothing.”

“Cyare--”

“I will explain later.”

The Mandalorian gives you a curt nod and retrieves a piece of cloth for you as you move the calmed baby to burp her against your shoulder. You can tell he wants to say something as you pat her between the shoulders, but he remains silent and tilts his helmet to the side upon hearing the infant gurgle and do her business against the cloth draped over your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep once she’s burped up all the air and spit from her meal and you let out a grateful sigh when you watch her eyelids slowly droop, somewhat eager to get her out of your arms and into her crib.

Once she’s comfortable in her cradle and fast asleep, you are quick to exit the little alcove, Paz hot on your heels as you practically storm past the exhausted-looking caretaker who’s sitting on a stone ledge in the main play area.

“Hey thank you for--”

You’re out of the nursery before he can fully express his gratitude to you and you hear Paz mutter something to the caretaker before rushing after you. Halfway down the tunnel leading to his private quarters, Paz catches up to you and carefully wraps his leather-clad fingers around your bicep, turning you around to face him.

“Cyare! What’s going--?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You don’t even realize you’re sobbing until you hear your own voice and Paz’s other hand comes to squeeze your shoulder in a comforting manner, “Wh-Why didn’t you tell me there was a baby and why would you make me…? I didn’t know and... Maker, she was so much like--”

Your chest is heaving, tears streaming from your cheeks like raging waterfalls and Paz gently pulls you to the side and covers you when another Mandalorian passes you two, giving you what you’re certain is a curious gaze. He cups a massive hand to the side of your neck and leans down as you continue to sob and babble incoherent pleas at him, wondering why he’d put you through this, though he truly had no idea what he had done to you.

“I-I am sorry, cyare,” He breathes, squeezing your bicep firmly with his other hand, “You seemed to love the little ones so much and I thought… I thought you would love to see the baby, but I didn’t think…” He shakes his helmet in a jolting manner as you viciously rub at your eyes and cheeks, “What happened? What did I do wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” You ignore his frantic questions as you try desperately to stop the tears escaping your eyes, along with the horrific memories from flooding your mind, “I didn’t mean to be so rude! I thought I was over it and I could forget, but seeing her...”

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” He hushes you in a kind manner, shielding you from any wandering eyes that might see your tears, “Why don’t… why don’t we go back to our room and you can tell me what’s going on? That’s what you said the other day, right? That we should talk about the things we feel?”

You nod your answer, not trusting your voice in that moment, and you try your hardest to force down the massive lump in your throat.

“Will you tell me why you are so broken up over seeing the baby?”

He’s quick to pull you in close, hunching over to hold you easier and you immediately stuff your face into the crook of his neck as you give him another jittery nod, “I fear you will hate me upon hearing what I’ve done in the past--how I have failed the ones I was supposed to take care of.”

“I… I could never feel such a thing towards you,” He promises with a deep exhale, sounding just as heartbroken as he reluctantly pulls away and leads you closer to his private quarters, keeping a firm hand on the small of your back, “Whatever it is, I could never hate you, I swear.”

Your chest aches more and more the closer you get to his private quarters and once you finally make it, he’s quick to sit you down on the foot of his bed, kneeling down as he collects your hands in his leather-clad ones.

“What is haunting you, ner cyare? What makes you cry so much when you sleep?”

You pray that once you tell him, the horrific memories won’t weigh heavy on your conscience any longer.

Translations:

Ner cyare=My beloved

Mesh’la=Beautiful

Ori Kebiin=Big blue

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum=I love you (lit. I know you forever)

Saviin’ika=Little violet

Verd’ika= Little soldier

Di’kut=Idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aerynwrites @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst @anakinsittinginsand @yes-music-is-my-religion @tangledlove27 @justrunamok @peqchynero @haloangel391 @awhiskeywithawinchester @aliciaxglasgow @bonesaldente @kawaiitimecharm @karaabove @clydesducktape @misssilvertongue @heartxheat @pazvizslasgirl4ever (Please let me know if I missed you or you’d like to be taken off!!)

Author’s note: As always, thank you all so much for being as patient and kind as ever <3 I don’t know why this chapter was such a struggle for me to finish, but I’m so glad eventually managed to get all the words I wanted down lol. I was worried it might seem like there’s a lot going on in this chapter, but I just wanted more interactions with our nurse getting more settled in with the tribe and meeting others, so hopefully this chapter doesn’t seem like it’s all over the place :( Anyways I love you all and thank you so much for all the support y’all continuously give me <33

#paz vizla x you #paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x reader #Paz vizsla x you #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #my writing #IDK WHY I'M SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS CHAPTER OML #I hope you guys enjoy it tho <3 #also now y'all know why christina and I were fighting over wearing socks to bed lmfao

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seulgiology · 4 years

Text

that’s my type | jeon jungkook

pairings: fwb!jungkook x fwb!female oc

words: 3k

genre: SMUT with an “i love you” at the end , uwu

warnings: cursing, praise, dirty talk, thigh fucking, pet names, choking, a widdle exhibition, a lil pussy spank, ass slapping, piercings, tattoos (are those warnings?? idk), oc loves to mess with kookie lol save him

a/n: GIF IS NOT MINE! sad yer. admin 1 is sadly alive. HERE’S A REQUESTED JUNGKOOK SMUT, I TRIED MY BEST PLZ ACCEPT MY OFFERING TO YOU @itboykook . Also, i just randomly put two names together, so if by any chance that it relates to an actual idol IM SORRY. anygays, being a student is hard and online school is a lot :))), sorry for my inactivity.

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

Mid July - 12:03 p.m.

Jungkook fit right in with the rest of you, his quiet, odd, yet lovable personality was enticing and it didn’t fall short from the other 6 guys.

He was the newest and the youngest out of your friend group, only a junior in college. His adorable teeth whenever he smiled that contrasted with his toned body was so attractive and he knew it too. He nearly rivaled Jimin when it came to visual duality.

You all were on one of the campus’ fields, enjoying a rare afternoon of no classes on your spread blanket. You and Hoseok were trying to play a makeshift game of basketball in the field with a random volley ball lying around and your jacket in a circle as the “hoop.”

You were both dying of laughter from your failed attempts at playing defense and rolling in the grass like a couple of kids on a sugar rush.

Jungkook was next to Taehyung listening to brief him on everything about you, from your flat feet to your unconventional love for Tom Holland. He was sitting comfortably on the blanket, hands resting behind his back as he watched you and... What was his name? Hobi? He’ll remember later.

He couldn’t see you too clearly but he knew you were having fun after hearing your bubbly laughter from the distance. You didn’t seem to be coming over towards the others anytime soon so he thought he’d rest his head on Jimin’s plush lap and rest his eyes for a bit, letting the spring sun beat down on his face.

“Don’t you come over here with all that grass on you, Mae, you don’t know whose child was in there pissing.”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, and he hissed out at the suns rays blinding him. He lazily shifted towards the direction of the noise and heard Seokjin— Jin grumble to you two.

You were in the middle of rubbing the loose grass off your jeans when you could feel someone’s stare on you.

Jungkook shamelessly drank in your figure, loving the way your ripped jeans hugged your thick thighs. He could only dream of burying his face in between them and leaving hickies. You were slightly bent over in front of him trying to wipe the dirt off of you, but he had a great view of your full and round ass trapped inside the denim.

Is this what it feels like to look at an angel? Jungkook didn't know what to believe anymore after being graced with your existence. Did he want to worship your body, make you laugh, hold your hand? Or something more? The blood rushed to his center the longer he kept his gaze on you and letting his thoughts take a sexual turn.

You didn’t catch him practically eye-fucking you, but when you looked up and around, you did see him blushing and hastily putting his bag on his lap.

He must be a shy guy. Yet his whole presence makes you want to shut up and be a good girl for him. He was only laying down with his arm propped up for support, and his short black hair was flowing in the wind, making him look goofy with such a concentrating look on his face.

He pretended to be searching in his bag for something as his heart raced when he saw your shadow coming towards him. He tasted the saliva pooling in his mouth at the sight of you towering over him, your nose and ear piercings glinting in the sunlight.

“I’m Maerin, the only reasonable one here. You are?” You carefully reached your hand out for him to shake with a charming grin on your face, amazed that your friend group just continues to add more attractive men to your circle.

“Jungkook, the other reasonable one here.” You laughed at his statement and his adorable nose scrunched when he smiled with you. You took the vacant seat next to him, and his sight was glued to your physique on your descent, entranced by the minimalistic ink on your arm.

Could you get anymore perfect? Perfect face. Perfect ass. Perfect thighs. Perfect body. Perfect personality most likely. HIs mind raced with thoughts of only you as soon as he took your much smaller hand in his in a firm shake.

He was going to have you one way or another. And that’s a promise he kept. Sort of.

Early December - 11:46 a.m.

Those god-awful finals had just ended for you guys and it was time for winter break. It was decided that you all would put in money to go to a ski resort for the break, needing the stress reliever and rest.

And get rid of stress was exactly what you did.

“Fuck, you really don’t know what you do to me,” His hand tightened around your neck in the most pleasurable way, and you were hazy from the dream-like steam the shower was bringing.

He had you pinned against him, his arms held you tightly in place as he thrusted in between your thighs, only sliding his cock against your slick womanhood. You hated not being able to feel him inside you, but he was in heaven when he had you like this.

Jungkook’s reasonably unreasonable obsession with your ass and thighs played a great part in your friends with benefit arrangement.

“This is all mine, sweetness,” He grunted in your ear, and all you could do was gasp in response. His wet and wavy locks draped over your shoulder as he sped up his pace, leaving you devoid of any type of release as your thighs tightened around his cock sliding in between them.

“Jungkook-” You whined to him, upset that he was using you to get himself off. He payed you no mind however, his thrusts speeding up as the unrhythmic slide of his cock in between your folds meant he was going to cum soon.

"You wanna cum pretty girl? Wanna feel me stuff you so full you won’t remember anything but me?” He moaned in your ear at the thought, torturing himself as much as he was torturing you.

You let out a pathetic but audible yes that you knew had his dimple popping from the grin that adorned his face. You yelped when he manhandled you against the wall and pushed your back down so your ass was to his front. You turned around to see him desperately pumping himself in his hand and his lips slightly parted. The sight had your arousal trailing down your legs along with the water and you licked you lips at his hard cock in his hand.

He pumped his load on your cheeks that were spread for him and he watched it get rinsed away as quickly as it came with the water.

Your body was still on edge when you felt Jungkook rise you up and back hugged you so tenderly, you were ready to fall asleep in his arms at the safety they welcomed. He chuckled in your ear at your languid body and held you tighter. “If you fall asleep you won’t get your reward for being good for me,” his voice was so sweet and you. Why isn’t he your boyfriend again?

“Mmm, really?” You questioned him in a sultry tone, wanting to get him riled up again. You grinded your ass on his hardening manhood and you loved the way he grabbed a handful of it and rolled his hips on you.

“Jungkook, you in there?” You both froze in panic upon hearing Namjoon over the white noise. Jungkook’s finger tips stopped their descent down your stomach and lightly dug in. Shit, fuck, fuck fuck, shit-

“Yea hyung, I’m in the shower, what’s up?” His voice was unusually shaky to the older man, but he brushed his overanalyzing to the side. “Have you seen Maerin? She said she was looking for you but she disappeared.”

Your heart pounded to the speed the water was hitting you. Namjoon wasn’t stupid, he’d probably figure you guys out, if he didnt already.

Jungkook frowned at you in confusion and you shrugged back at him, your face heating up at the excuse you told the others men to just come see your fuck buddy.

“She told me to meet the rest of you in the lobby but I wanted to take a shower before leaving. Um... I think she went to get more food before they closed the breakfast buffet.” He lied smoothly, and you sighed in relief and let your grip on hi arm drop.

THUNK!

Namjoon jumped after hearing the load thump and an extremely familiar feminine squeak from the bathroom.

Wait.

Was that Maer—

“Sorry hyung, the soap fell on my foot when I tried reaching for it! I’ll be out soon, don’t wait for me.” He replied in a haste after turning the shower off and giving you a hard look. After hearing the room door close, your body chilled beyond return and your nipples hardened in anticipation.

“You think this is a game, huh?” He tilted your chin up with his cold finger tips and glared at your smirking face.

This was most definitely a game you wanted to play.

—

Late December - 1:30 p.m.

“Who brought the liquor, im trying to get wasted tonight.”

“Jimin, we’re watching Stranger Things.”

“Ok— so where’s the liquor...?”

You smile to yourself at hearing your friends’ conversation, they never fail to amuse you. You were in the kitchen, trying to get popcorn ready for all 8 of you to watch the supernatural show in Jungkook’s apartment.

You leaned on the counter in front of the microwave and listened to its humming as the bag of popcorn started to slowly inflate.

“The guys are here and you have your ass all out like this?” A silent groan left your lips and arousal pooled in between your legs when Jungkook grinded his hips into your ass and grabbed a handful of it.

Your friend group had no idea that you were fucking each other for about 2 months now. It felt wrong to be sexually attracted to each other, especially because you were friends. So you both didn’t want a bad reaction if you told the others.

“Jungkook, someone’s going to walk in—” But you ignored your own words and instead rubbed against him more. You were breathing softly but heavily when you let him cup your cunt through your leggings. He loved it when you wore leggings, it always left little to his imagination when he wanted to guffaw at your legs.

The microwave beeped loudly and it startled the young man behind you into jumping back in fright. Jungkook swallowed hard at hearing your snickering and in a haste, left the kitchen and into the noisy living room instead. He was hard under his sweats, and hated how uncomfortable he was because did it.

They were all seated and prepared to binge watch the latest season of the popular American show when you crept out with two large bowls of kettle corn popcorn.

After they graciously thanked you, you took the obvious seat next to Jungkook on the loveseat. The others expected this, they knew you two were closer than ever. He threw the fuzzy blanket over you both as you cuddled close to the arm chair and put your feet on the other side of his thighs.

Your knees were bent up because you couldn’t fully extend your legs, and it was the perfect position for him to touch you in. He turned to gaze at you under his dark and curly fringe and his earring dangle from the movement.

He discreetly leaned in and whispered, “I dare you to try something while they’re here. Watch what’s going to happen.” The eerie theme song of the show began and you knew for a fact you weren’t going to pay attention.

You’ve seen the legendary show already. So instead you’d mess with the man directly in front of you.

So for eight long hours you you teased him under the blankets; Rubbing his length with your feet, edging him and never letting succumb to the unusual pleasure. It was exciting to see him sweat while all of your close friends were so close to you yet too engrossed in the T.V. set to notice.

Just as your group was piling out and saying their goodbyes, you suggested that you stay to help the maknae clean. it was late and everybody would be busy the next day but you.

And Jungkook wasn’t going to let you go that easy.

9:54 p.m. [same night]

Your damp forehead was pressed into soft cushion and your hands clutching the closest pillow on the couch as you were hopelessly whimpering for more.

Jungkook wasted no time in having you ass up, head down with his wet tongue abusing your cunt and giving you a taste of your own medicine.

“You really must think this shit is funny, baby” He said, basking in the taste of your arousal. You whined when he lightly slapped your clit, your hips involuntarily pushing back for more and he arrogantly chuckled at your neediness.

“I asked you a question and I expect you to answer it.” His voice was gruff when his hard and angry cock slapped against your swollen lips, the slickness of it making it an obscene noise.

“Only if you fuck me first.” You breathlessly said to him and wiggled your ass to draw him in even more. His hooded eyes caught the sight and he moistened his thin lips, loving they way your bottom moved.

You both sighed in relief when he finally pushed in, the initial sting always catching you by surprise, no matter how many times he’s done it.

“Shit, you always take me so well Mae,” He pumps faster, his hips snapping into yours and you cry out from the intensity of it. Your clit throbbed from your fingers circling around it, and your moans were purely sinful. Jungkook loved seeing you like this.

Back arched and your pussy clenching around his length. The way your ass bounced against his hips whenever he thrusted into you. Fuck. His hand came down hard on your already stinging before grabbing them and drilling into you impossibly quicker than before.

“Please don’t stop!” You cried out, living for the way his dick filled you so fucking full until you you were seeing white. “Look at you pretty girl. You’re such a brat and all I do is fuck you and give you what you want.” He grunted in your ear and kissed right below it, hearing the dangling sounds of your own earrings.

“Ohhh, Jungkook I’m so close,” He huffed before carefully flipped you over and fucked you with vigor, your toes curling and an amazing sensation rushing through you. “Come on sweetness, you’re almost there.” He placed your legs over his shoulder and gripped your delicious thighs so tight, this wouldn’t be the first time you’d see hand prints there tomorrow.

His forehead was pressed against yours as he watched his dick push in and out of your sopping cunt, your cries egging him on to spill inside of you without hesitation.

The feeling in your lower stomach was becoming uncomfortably persistent and with one final rare moan of your name his hips stuttered sloppily and he filled you with his seed to the brim. Your body spasmed around him and your mantra of his name didn’t even let up after you came.

When you finally came down from your high, your eyes cleared to see the sweaty boy slumped against you, body spent from putting his all into this session.

He peppered kisses along your collarbones and softly massaged your chest as your eyes closed from his blessed hands working on your soft tissue.

He peeked up at you through those unruly locks of his and that boyish charm never failed you whenever he literally did anything. Don’t even get you started on his boxing practices, whew-

“So round two?” He quirked a playful eyebrow at you as his fingers lightly danced over your torso. You giggled when he reached around your waist and applied pressure, the soft skin felt like silk to him.

“What do you expect an answer?” You giggled up at him, stars in your eyes. You sneakily reached and tickled under his arms, and he let out the most adorable laugh your ears could ever hear. You shushed your laughs with unsuccessful kisses that were even more laughs because of your failed attempts of keeping a straight face.

When he pulled away, his doe-eyes were stuck on your gorgeous face. The way he was looking at you wasn’t unfamiliar, you we’re just too stupid to play it off as the “post-fuck love stare.” But here you were now. Laughing in between his strong arms and pecking each others lips.

We’ve been friends fucking like this for months and I’m just realizing this now?

“What if I told you that I loved you? How’d you answer to that..?” He trailed off towards the end, his spontaneous confidence wearing off by the millisecond from his impulsive words.

You could combust with the overwhelming feeling of happiness and your chest felt lighter even with his body of muscle on you. You smiled so wide up at him, you could barely see his own face morph into the dimpled look you’ve grown to love since you first met him. But you still wanted to mess with him for 10 more seconds.

“I would say I love you with all my heart...”

You think his just dropped to his stomach with the way his face turned ghastly pale and his eyebrows raised in worry. He was not expecting that after your reaction to him confessing his feeling towards you. Was this a joke? But you were smiling... mayb-

“But my ass is bigger.” Your laugh was contagious and he couldn’t even be mad at you cause he couldn’t agree more.

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astrojoy · 3 years

Note

Hello!!! Hope you're doing well and having a wonderful day!! Im living for all the future spouse games on my feed today they're so interesting and fun to see.

I'd like to join the future spouse ask event :)

My initials are NF

Thank you so much 🦭💕

Idk why i just felt like putting this gif cause i suddenly feel so happy and light?? Like idk whats going on but okay

Ohh! I love your initials, it reminds me of the rapper NF and their songs are bOmb. Also it took me awhile to get back to these asks because I fell asleep until 7 pm and had chores after but luckily my energy/self is filled with new and cleansed positivity!

ALSO YESSS 🌻😫⭐💛 FEEL THE POSITIVE VIBEZZ👈😡👈💖💖🎶🎶💛💛🌻🌻🌻☀️☀️

😂 here we go!

NUMBERS

999, 22, 8, 6789 lol!, 0, 33

ZODIAC

Dominant Element - EARTH (so much!)

Tuarus, Capricorn, Virgo, Libra, Pisces

For some reason FIRE and WATER came out randomly?? There was no fire cards and only 1 water but ok! 😂

SONG

As The World Falls Down - David Bowie

LIFE AFTER MARRIAGE

● Emotional withdrawel from friends or family, most likely because of the typical married life!

● Definitely new opputtunities, adventures, seeing new things!

● Traveling is likely!

● Making a commitment in this marriage will be like letting the fruits grow and harvesting. "Prosperity Begins"

● You guys could possibly actually have a fruit tree if this was being literal-

● Your life will undergo a transformation for the better! Wow amazing!

EXTRA

So this is so so cool! Ok so for some reason I wanted to ask spirit "Will they have an animal/pet after marriage based on looking at some of the cards and legit as I was shuffling and asking the cards were being stubborn, nothing was flying out, so I was about to count all the way to 3 and once I did my plan was to take the top card. HOWEVER, when I started and said "1" put loud, the card labeled number 1 came out called "Prosperity Begins"! So I will take this as a yes, if you want a pet!

Also I feel like your spouse enjoys holding hands a lot. It's very sweet. They are stable "I'm there anytime you need me" energy, you can definitely rely in them!

I also got a sense that they might be foreign, but definitely enjoy travelling or learning new things! Sometimes you might need some alone time though in the marriage to rejuvenate your energy however this marriage is gonna definitely help you grow in some way, emotionally and mentally 😄🌻💛

This one was so amazing, I loved doing this and had so much fun! Thanks for asking for this sunflower, send me those invites when someone proposes or something- 👉😫👉☀️💛

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divinerulerluvr · 4 years

Text

Blue Haired Radical / Kai Anderson x reader fic

Lord help my soul but that gif is heavenly

warnings - idk language, pain kink, not rlly smut but its saucy

/// I run quickly out of the house, disgusted in myself from what i had just done. What the fuck am i even doing? In a cult with angry white men who have stupid political opinions all because Kai saw my ‘anger’ once.

Kai was such a con man. But i was too deep in to even try and pry my way out. I could at least try, but i’d for sure be murdered. As i stop at the side of the ice cream van, i hear my name being called by a very, very angry Kai.

“Y/n! Goddammit,” he huffs, finding where i stand to catch my breath in the van. His face is red and he’s staring with a menacing glare. “I-I’m sorry i-” i’m quickly cut off by him grabbing my throat and slamming me into the wall of the van. His hand presses down roughly, cutting off my airway.

My hands fly up, gripping at his hand and trying to pry it off me. He glares down at me, his grip on my neck so fucking tight i feel the air leaving my lungs like crazy. As he holds my neck, i see Samuels and Harrison walk in behind him.

Kai quickly drops my neck so Samuels and Harrison can grab my arms to hold me. The van starts driving and Kai just stares angrily at me as i try to squirm out of the boys’ harsh grip.

“I always knew you were a flight risk, Y/n. I don’t feel that fidelity that i feel from all of my brothers and sisters,” he starts with a heavy exhale, shaking his head slowly. “You’re lucky i kept you alive this long,”

I keep squirming around in attempt to free from the grasp on my arms as i’m sat on a bench beside the boys. “Fuck you, Kai,” i snarl out, keeping strict eye contact with him. He chuckles lowly, his eyes looking at the red marks on my arms formed by Harrison and Samuels’ grip.

“Let her go, but keep near,” he says randomly, sending Samuels a glare this time. They nod, removing their hands but staying close to me. I look up at Kai with confusion. He said it himself i’ve always been a flight risk but he tells the guys to stay close.

With a wave of his hand, Harrison and Samuels stand and go to the front of the van that’s separated by a partition. Kai stands slowly, looking down at me to keep our intense eye contact. He stops walking when he’s in front of me, his crotch in front of my face as he glowers down at me.

I keep my head tilted up so i can keep the eye contact but with his dick so close to my face it’s hard to focus. Even if it’s still in his pants. “I was thinking to myself… ‘what should i do to teach her a lesson?’ And well, i think i have the perfect solution,” he growls lowly, his voice sinister yet so fucking sexy.

He smirks evilly down at me as i swallow thickly, my eyebrows furrowed as i feel my heartbeat rapidly increase. He moves, sitting next to me on the bench. He runs a hand up my thigh, slipping under the costume dress i wore for the cult. I shiver, his warm hand touching my clammy thigh making my core ache like crazy.

His dark brown eyes heavy on mine, gauging my reaction to his touch. “Now,” he says lowly, making me jump a little from his sudden word. “I want you to be very compliant for me. Do what i say quickly and without defiance. Am i clear?” He instructs. I nod quickly, afraid of what’s going to happen even if i can feel the prominent throb between my legs.

He smirks a smug smile before he quickly flings me over his lap. I gasp, shocked by the sudden movement. He exhales softly, pulling up the skirt of my dress slowly. I had these stocking type things on that connected to my panties but i have no fucking clue what they are because Kai gave us all our costumes.

He bunches the silky skirt around my waist, leaving the black panties i wear on full display to him. I bite my lip as he rubs my ass, his warm hand massaging it tenderly before he suddenly yanks my panties down. He pulls them down so that they’re resting on my upper thighs.

“Very nice, Y/n. I can’t wait to paint this ass with my handprint,” he growls deeply, his hand still massaging my ass cheek. I whimper softly, blinking roughly in attempts to calm my nerves.

His hand leaves my ass for a moment. But i soon feel and hear the loud slap on my ass. I arch my back, crying out. “Fuck!” i exclaim, my hands curling into fists and making marks on my palm.

“It’s okay, baby. You did this to yourself,” he leans over, whispering his menacing words into my ear. I feel my body start to quiver as he strikes my already red ass cheek again. Even harder this time.

“Tell me, Y/n, how many do you think you need to be set straight, hm?” he asks playfully but his words hold a sinister tint.

“I…” is all i could say in response, earning another harsh spank. “Fuck,” i mutter.

“I said tell me how many you think you need,” he growls this time, no playfulness in his voice this time. I furrow my brows, still biting my lip and clenching my fists. Each minute that passes without an answer, i get a slap to my ass cheek that burns and stings like crazy.

“Such a bad girl. You wont like the number i give you if you don’t fucking answer my goddamned question,” He whispers lowly into my ear, his tone of voice insanely sexy.

“F-Fifteen,” i stammer out, overwhelmed with arousing pain. Kai exhales slowly, satisfied in my number, at least, i hope. “Just fifteen? Will fifteen really teach you a good lesson?” he asks in a patronizing voice.

I nod shyly, afraid his spanks were going to get harder. “I was thinking… twenty. Minimum,” he suggests, spanking my ass again but this time on the untouched cheek. I cry out again, squeezing my fists tight.

I nod again, unable to speak. I knew i wasn’t supposed to defy his words so i just agree with them. “Good girl. Following my rules as always,” he chuckles deeply, spanking my ass again. “That would be… five i believe,”

He continues to spank me, counting up after each strike. “19… 20… 21.. 22… 23… 24… 25,” he counts higher and higher, ignoring how he said he’d do twenty. My ass hurt so bad and i wasn’t even sitting on it.

The stinging sensation flew through my body and straight to my core, making me want him to fuck me mercilessly. “30… you having fun, you dirty slut?” he taunts, uses his hand to brush my hair back, holding it loosely in his hand. He tugs it back, pulling me off of his lap and throwing me onto the bench beside him.

I cry out from the pain i felt as my ass hit the hard bench. He stares at me for a second, his eyes falling down my body and returning to my eyes. He chuckles softly, a sadistic smirk on his lips before he stands.

The van parks, and Kai glares down at me as i catch my breath. “Get yourself together, Y/l/n, or else i’m killing you next time,” he huffs before sliding the door open and hoping out of the van.

///

@guiltyfiend

im only writing this bc i was bored during my zoom class so i wrote this yeah :)

#kai anderson #spank #smutty kinda #evan peters #sexy trump supporter why do i love him?#murderer love bc haha why not

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brokenkingdom-forgottenempire · 3 years

Text

Never Regret

....took me a while to finish this long ass fic. Please don’t hate me. I wanted to write prequel fic for ‘Off Night’ and I didnt expect I’d spend days trying to make this fic....readable?

WARNING: LONG FIC. POOR ATTEMPT OF SEXY TIME. AND MAYBE AWKWARD. Human flesh as plates. Drew does the sucking around here. Roman can just relax. Some errors. Uhhhh.....some cbt .. idk. Dont look at me. I kept on seeing gif of Drew low blowing Roman, alright?

Okay, so here is my second attempt on trying to write sexy scene for McReigns! husbands vers au.

(08/12/20)

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It was raining all day. Grey skies since 8am. It was only 4pm now but the dark clouds made it looked like it was already late evening. A bit of lighting once in a while but it was not a compete downpour. It had been raining a lot lately, and Drew did not really enjoy it. He would go out to work and come back soaking wet. He hated it.

Roman liked the rain. It was calming for him. He could rest his mind, the sound of low grumbling thunder somehow made him relax. He could stay in bed all day, snuggle with his husband, take a nap. The two of them a completely opposite about the weather but that was why they were so deep in love with one another.

Drew went out that afternoon to buy some groceries. Roman wanted to go along to accompany the other man but Drew insisted the Samoan to just stay at home. He did not want Roman to get sick again. He noticed how Roman could easily get sick lately too. It’s probably caused by the weather, Drew thought.

“Don’t forget to buy some desserts, babe,” Roman called out from the kitchen before Drew stepped out of the house. Drew just replied back ‘OK’ and walked out, dressed in just black t-shirt, jeans and raincoat. It was windy outside, he knew the umbrella would not help much in this situation but he brought it with him anyway.

A hour or so later, as expected, Drew came back with the needed things and food. Soaking wet head to toe. Roman was sitting comfortable in their couch in the living room. Knees tucked close to his chest, hair neatly tied into a bun, reading glasses on, he had his phone in hand, probably checking for updates on his social media account again. The Samoan lifted his head up when he heard the front door was opened, and failed to hide his smile when he saw a soaked, grumpy Drew.

“Yea, laugh all you want. I’m fucking freezing and you didn’t even bother to help me grab a towel,” the Scottish man grunted as he placed the grocery bags on the floor. He tossed his ruined shoes at the side, grumbling how much he hated life sometimes especially when it had to put him in this kind of situation. Roman just shook his head, got up and handed his husband a towel he had prepared earlier. Drew just stared at Roman as he did.

“You really thought I wouldn’t prepare anything for my own husband who sacrificed himself to go out and buy me food in this crazy weather? I’m hurt, Drew,” despite the last sentence, a warm smile graced Roman’s beautiful face. Drew did not reply and just moved his face closer to Roman’s to give the older man a quick kiss on the lips. A thank you. Drew did not say it, but Roman knew.

“What did you get me for desserts?” Roman bent down to pick up the bags.

“Ice cream, some cakes, chocolate and strawberry syrups just incase you want them on your ice cream. Also I bought this pie from the bakery you loved so much. The lady behind the cash register said hi,” Drew shamelessly stripped down in front of the door. He did not want to step on the carpet. Roman would kill him. Once he was completely naked, he wrapped the towel around his waist and looked up to see Roman staring at him. “What? Something’s on my face?” Drew reached up to wipe his face.

“You silly, sexy, handsome brute,” Roman chuckled and slightly tiptoed to kiss Drew on his cheek. “Thank you for the cakes and pie,”. The Scottish man huffed, his large hand came down to rest on Roman’s ass and could not resist giving it a squeeze. The shorter man gasped at the sudden action but laughed as he slowly pulled away to prepare their dinner.

“Shower and dress warmly, dinner will be ready by then,” Roman was back inside the kitchen and Drew still had a smile on his face as he walked towards their room to do what Roman told him to.

20 minutes later, Drew reemerged. He wore a navy blue t-shirt, slightly loose on him and grey sweatpants. He was not sure if the sweats were his or Roman’s but since when did he care. Roman had prepared the food, and they ate in peace, randomly talked about their work and friends’ updates. Once dinner was done, Drew helped out with the cleaning.

Roman told Drew to wait in the living room as he took the desserts out of the fridge. Drew complied and waited patiently on the couch. The TV was on, and Drew just lazily flipped through the channels, nothing attracted him so far. When Roman came back with desserts, Drew dropped the remote as he looked at his husband. Roman just casually walked around inside their home with nothing but an apron. With lace. What the fuck. When did he change?!

“Oh, I forgot the plates,” Roman was about to get up to get some utensils but Drew’s sudden grip around the older man’s wrist managed to stop him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Roman?” Drew’s voice became huskier than before. The Samoan had some guts to look down at him with his innocent, confused eyes. Drew did not wait for Roman’s replies as he yanked his smaller husband down, and Roman landed on top of Drew. Their positions forced Roman to straddle Drew’s thighs with the Scottish man’s hand rested on both sides of Roman’s hips. The tattooed man chuckled and bit his lower lip, his fingers playfully danced on Drew’s chest.

“Do you like it? Seth told me to get one. I got it months ago but I didn’t know when to wear. It’s a bit too small, I think, should’ve gotten a bigger size,” Roman looked down at his black with white lace apron he had gotten on the internet. He ordered L for size but it was meant for ladies, and he was a 260 pounds Samoan with muscles and tattoos. Some kind of maid kink whatever it was stated on the description. Seth mentioned something about it and though he did not really need it to seduce his husband, he wanted to try something new.

Drew’s silence made Roman looked back up to the man he currently straddled. Drew’s blue eyes seemed slightly darker than before. It got him worried, maybe Drew did not really like this kind of thing? Roman gulped and tried to move away but Drew’s strong hands held him in place. “Drew?” Roman’s soft voice did it for him. The Scottish man placed a hand on Roman’s nape and pulled him down for a deep kiss. The older man’s moan were muffled, his hands gripping Drew’s loose t-shirt.

“You fucking tease. You’re going to regret this,” Drew breathed out before he claimed his husband’s lips once again. “I’m going to tear that ass, and I don’t want you hear you whining about it being sore tomorrow, or I’m going to tie you up for some spankings. Do you understand?” Both of his hands were back on Roman’s ass this time, squeezing and parting the cheeks a part, causing the other man to whimper. His teeth left marks on Roman’s neck. The Samoan could not say anything but a simple ‘Yes, sir,’.

Drew lifted his smaller husband and gently laid him down on his back on the couch. He ordered Roman to stay still as he moved to grab something from the kitchen, and then came back with a can of whipped cream. Oh God, Roman thought to himself.

“Drew, wait, are you-” Roman tried to sit up but Drew was quick to push him down again. The Scottish man’s hand moved down and gave Roman’s teat a pinch. His husband yelped in shock.

“Did I tell you to move, Roman?” Drew’s deep voice forced him to strop struggling and just laid still on his back. “And just for trying to stop me, you’re not allowed to touch yourself or me. If you do, I’m getting the handcuffs out,” Drew did not wait for Roman to say anything as he ripped (not really, he just aggressively peeled off the velcro straps of the apron) the only fabric on his husband’s torso off, and dove down to attack Roman’s smooth chest. He bit and tug at Roman’s nipples drawing more whines and cries from the man below him. Drew grabbed the can of whipped cream and Roman could do nothing but watched as his Scottish lover sprayed out some cream on his chest then licking it cleaned. The whipped cream was cold on his heated skin. Drew continued to spray some more cream on his husband but now focusing on the hardened nubs.

“Ah, Drew!” Drew bit down harshly on Roman’s nipple that was surrounded by the sea of ink on his chest as he cleaned the cream off the Samoan. It felt good. So good, Roman thought he could come just with Drew messing around with his sensitive nipples.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, Ro,” The Scottish man pulled back and wiped his mouth. Roman did not dare to move as his eyes followed his husband’s movement. Drew grabbed one of the cakes Roman had placed on the coffee table earlier before carefully placing the dessert on Roman’s belly. Drew knew how insecure Roman was when it came to his physique especially his abdomen area. While Roman did not mind Drew squeezing and groping his thick ass, he did not really like it when his Scottish husband paid too much attention to his ‘fat stomach’ (as Roman called it). Drew obviously hated it whenever Roman tried to push him away because of it. The Samoan was clearly blind if he did not notice how much Drew loved every part, every inch of his body. It was a daring move for Drew’s part but he would risk it all as long as Roman knew nothing on him was imperfect for Drew.

The Scottish man could feel how Roman’s body stiffened the moment the cake touched his skin. Roman’s eyes darted down to Drew, silently pleading to have it removed. Drew was having none of it. Not this time. Drew moved up to kiss his husband.

“You never believed me when I told you I love every side of you. I know you still won’t believe me now even if I tell you, but Roman, I love everything about you. Your beautiful face, you ass, those killer thighs, your so-called fat tummy. Whatever bullshit you’ve been telling yourself for years, I’m ending it tonight,” Roman’s eyes turned glassy as he let his husband kissed him again. Roman could not find his voice so he nodded, trusting Drew to make him understand. Drew smiled down at the older man before he peeled off his loose t-shirt and sweatpants, throwing them on the floor. Then he moved back down to take a bite of the cake. Roman was trying to calm himself down as he watched his husband having his dessert using his belly as the plate. Drew smirked when he realized Roman would not struggle, he licked his lips once before he marked Roman’s skin with his teeth.

“I love this so much,” Drew continued to bite and suckle the skin around his husband’s middle. “Such beautiful body, only for me to enjoy. No one else can have this. No one else can taste it. Only me,”. The Scottish man began to tease the bellybutton, licking down the navel and then came dangerously close to Roman’s hard on. Roman grunted when he felt Drew bit down on his skin again. The Samoan knew he was not allowed to hold Drew yet so his fingers had turned white from gripping the fabric of the couch hard. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from moaning too loudly as Drew continued to mark around his middle. He wanted to cry out whenever Drew bit his skin a little too hard but Drew seemed to acknowledge Roman’s movement and he would kiss the reddening skin as a silent apology.

Drew sat back once he was satisfied. He took the cake off Roman and brought it up to his husband’s lips. Roman did not immediately accept the offer and looked up to Drew, waiting for permission. “Open up, baby,” Drew ordered softly. Roman complied. The Samoan opened his mouth and let Drew fed him. Once he finished the dessert, he continued to lick Drew’s fingers. The Scottish man did not hesitate to push his fingers inside his husband’s mouth, letting Roman licked the icing and cream away.

As Roman was busy suckling on his fingers, Drew moved his free hand down to tap at the older man’s puckered hole. Roman whimpered in need and began to spread his legs apart further. Drew moved to settle between his husband’s thighs without removing his hand from Roman’s mouth.

“Someone is already wet for daddy,” beads of cum began to leak out of Roman’s pisshole. Drew teasingly gave the head a squeezed and watched as the precum flowed out, dripping on Roman’s stomach. He laughed when Roman suddenly bucked his hips, needing more from his lover. His muffled whines and pleads were ignored as Drew began to use the fluid as lube. He scooped some precum using his fingers before he circled Roman’s hole again.

“Drew, please,” Roman gasped out as he felt his husband’s finger tip teasingly pushing in. Drew did not even lift his head to look at the other man as he continued to slowly push through the muscle ring.

“Ahh, fuck!” cried the Samoan when Drew suddenly pushed his middle finger in deep, his knuckle was resting against Roman’s spasming hole. The younger man did not stop as he began to move his hand, finger fucking his husband in several times before adding another finger to spread his husband’s needy hole further, drawing louder moan from Roman.

“Please, please, please, please,” was all Roman could mutter. His own fingers dug into the couch, trying to strain himself. Hips bucking every time Drew mercilessly rammed his fingers in.

“Please what, Ro?” Drew’s other hand reached up and grabbed a handful of Roman’s hair, yanking the Samoan’s head back, exposing his marked neck. Roman winced from the pain and pleasure that Drew gave him at once. When Roman did not answer fast enough, Drew slid his fingers out of his husband’s hole causing the older man to whine in frustration.

“Nooo...please, daddy.....put it back in. Please fuck me. Please wreck me open,” Roman panted out. Drew was still holding him down by his long locks. The Scottish man smirked evilly. Using his free hand, he flicked Roman’s balls, causing the man to yelp in surprise. “No, please, don’t,” The Samoan tried to move his hip away from the assault. Wrong move. Roman cried out when Drew tugged his hair back harder this time.

“Did you just try to run away from me, Roman?” It was not really a question so Drew did not wait for replies. He gave the balls some gentle taps before flicking them again, eliciting more cries from his husband. Roman tried to close his legs but Drew would just order him to spread them out again.

The Scottish continued to mercilessly punish his husband’s balls. From gentle slaps, to flicking, to taps and some hard slaps, even a pinch or two. Roman’s thighs were trembling. His breathing was uneven as he surrendered his lower half to his lover. Tears trailed down the sides of his face. Drew delivered one last slap at the sore balls and he watched as Roman’s eyes rolled, mouth hung open, fingers turned white as he held onto the couch for his dear life, hips lifted slightly, toes curled in, and his dick spurted out ropes of cum, creating big mess on his own abs and chest. Drew was loving every second of it. His husband’s dick twitched and spurted more white fluid as Drew’s fingers lightly stroked the spent organ.

“Fuuuuuucckkkkk,” Roman moaned loudly when Drew tapped his pisshole with his finger and gave the sore head a swipe. The Samoan was super sensitive to touches now but knowing his husband he knew Drew was not going to stop yet, and he hated when he was right. Roman’s chest was heaving and trembling as he tried to catch his breath from the orgasm. Drew had released his hair after he came the second time. Roman watched through hooded eyes as his Scottish lover bent down to take the spent cock into his mouth, giving it a gentle suck but it was enough for Roman to arch his back, crying out ‘Stop!’ when Drew began to graze his teeth along the twitching organ. “No more. Please, no more, daddy, it’s too much,” he winced out.

Drew thought he had punished his husband enough that night so he let go. The Scottish then moved up to once again kiss his husband deeply on the lips. Drew pushed some hair off his husband’s sweaty forehead before he planted a kiss.

“I’m not done with you yet, Roman,” The said man’s eyes grew wide as he stared back at his husband. Before he could protest, Drew flipped him on his front this time. The taller man stood up, grabbed both of Roman’s arms and held it on his back. Drew bent down to pick up the apron that Roman had dropped earlier and used the straps to tied the Samoan’s hands on his back. Drew moved their position so Roman’s ass was facing him and Roman had to bury his face between the pillows on the couch. Drew forced Roman to kneel at the edge of the cushioned seats and present his ass up. Drew kneeled so his face would be at the same height as Roman’s ass, he grabbed both of the cheeks and spread them apart to reveal the pink hole. The Scottish man did not waste time as he dove in to rim his husband’s hole this time.

“Oh God. Oh fuck. Oh God, feels so good, daddy” Roman whimpered out. He could feel Drew’s tongue pushing in passed the ring and Roman pushed back. He was being tongue fucked by his husband. Everything just felt so intense, he got slightly lightheaded.

Drew stood back up again after he made sure Roman’s hole was relaxed enough for him. He placed his big girth against Roman’s entrance before he thrusted in balls deep. Roman’s scream was muffled by the pillows. His hips bucked and trembled from the sudden movement. “Please...be gentle with me, daddy. You’re so big,” Roman’s voice cracked as Drew began to pull out half way before slamming in again.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do. You’ll accept whatever I give to you, slut,” Drew rammed his cock harder, drawing high pitch cries from his Samoan husband. He spread the fat cheeks further and shoved in deeper.

Roman could not stop screaming as Drew rammed at his prostate over and over again. He was about to come again. He tried to tug his hands free from the bond but he could feel his muscles began to weaken from all the fucking. Drew’s thrusts became rougher and merciless. His heavy balls slapping against Roman’s hardening boner. After several thrusts, Roman came on the couch this time. His dick spraying out cum. He was crying from the endless pleasure.

He knew Drew was close to coming as he felt his lover’s dick grew. Drew gripped hard at Roman’s already bruised hips, balls resting against Roman’s, he grunted as he came inside his Samoan husband. Roman’s body jerked few times when his inside was flooded by streams of hot cum. Drew thrusted few more times, letting his spurting cock softened inside the warm hole. He bent down, slowly grabbed his husband’s wet face and gave him a kiss. Drew finally pulled out after few minutes, he watched as the cum leaked out, trailing down to Roman’s balls before dripping to the floor. Drew then reached down to untie his husband’s hands. Once released, Roman drew his hands closer to his chest. His eyes closing as he tried to catch his breath again. He came a lot in only few hours.

Drew sat back down next to Roman who was still kneeling. Carefully, Drew pulled Roman up to straddle his thighs again. Roman whimpered as he thought Drew was not done with him yet, but his Scottish husband just shushed him. He pushed Roman’s head down to rest on his bare chest, strong arms holding his lover in place.

After some silence and Roman seemed to calm down a little, Drew spoke, “Are you alright, baby? Did I hurt you too much?” Roman just shook his head. Drew gently gripped Roman’s chin to lift his face up. Romans eyes were still glassy from crying, some hair messily plastered on his forehead. “You’re in pain?” Drew asked worriedly.

“It was a good kind of pain,” a small smiled formed on Roman’s tired face. Drew chuckled and pecked his husband’s lips. “My hands hurt though....and my balls,” Roman reached down to cup his sore organ. The sacs were slightly swollen. Drew took Roman’s hand and kissed the mark around the wrist from the apron straps he used to tie him up earlier.

“I’d love to kiss you balls too, if you want,” Drew said playfully. Roman rolled his eyes and hit his husband’s chest.

“No, you won’t. You ruined the apron, and my ass.. No more fucking until next week,”. Now, it was Drew’s turn to whine at how cruel Roman’s decision was. The Samoan ignored him and continued to bury his face in his husband’s chest.

“You fucked me so deep, my ass will be sore until next week. Tomorrow will be our off night, and if you dare to put your dick anywhere near me, you can spend the night on this lovely couch alone,”. Drew pouted, quietly grumbling that it was not even his fault and Roman was the one who started it. Roman giggled at his husband’s childish reaction, but he needed rest. His ass needed rest. “I need to shower, I feel disgusting from the cream and cake you put on me,” Roman slowly moved off Drew to stand, he winced as he felt Drew’s cum began to flow out more and trail down his thigh.

“I’ll help,” Drew offered. He placed an arm around Roman’s waist and guided him to their bathroom. He helped Roman to wash his long locks, chest and hole. Roman almost smacked Drew on the head when his lover roughly shoved a finger in his super sensitive and sore hole.

Did Roman regret his decision to tease his husband in the first place though? Never, and best believe he would do it again. Maybe he would order some more things online too.

#Y's fic #Long ass fic #mcreigns #behold my awkward attempt of sex scene #damn this fic is long

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