and just looks beautiful and seems so comfortable in her skin

where adrien flirts
  • so adrien has a little problem: he likes marinette. like he really, honest-to-god likes her, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. his track record with girls isn’t so stellar. after he confessed his feelings to ladybug as chat noir, she calmly turned him down and admitted she liked someone else. so as nino would say, without a lady to tie him down, adrien agreste is single and ready to mingle
  • but he’s always been single?? and what does mingle even mean?? like, nino, what the hell, dude?? help a man out. 
  • so nino sits him down and explains how to get his crush. with his previous crush, nino tells him, adrien obviously didn’t do it right, and that’s why she turned him down (nino doesn’t know it was ladybug, and he just likes to think adrien was crushing on a supermodel who was totally out of even his league). 
  • nino: “you gotta flirt, man. the ladies love a dude who’s chill and cool and confident. you gotta rock it and own it. you got this.”
    adrien: “but how? every time I go to her, she looks at me, and I can’t… make my words work.”
    nino: “….you two are perfect for each other.”
    adrien: “what?”
    nino: “what?”
  • nino gives him an article with a few tips for flirting. this shouldn’t be too bad, and hey, it worked on alya, nino swears by it. so with 10 Flirting Techniques That Are Garunteed to Work on Women on his mind, adrien is determined to woo the ladies.
  • 1. set the stage with the “soft stare”: so all he had to do was stare at marinette as deeply as possible whenever they had a conversation while maintaining a calm and relaxed expression. marinette likes to stutter and stammer her ways through her words, and he couldn’t blame her, because he lost control when he tried to talk to her as well, and usually her antics made him smile and laugh. but according to the tips, he wasn’t allowed to.
  • it’s all good for a week or so, until nino pulls him aside and asks why he looks like he’s plotting how to murder marinette in her sleep like some type of serial killer every time he talks to her. 
  • he stops talking to her after that. alya tracks him down a few days later and whacks him upside the head for making her best friend cry by ignoring her. adrien goes back to talking to marinette as normally as possible after that because it’s better to talk to her as friends than invoke his “killer smile” while trying to flirt.
  • 2. be vague and leave her wanting more: adrien has this in the bag. he knows how to skirt around a topic, but that’s just because he has to make sure he kept his secret identity as a superhero of Paris a… secret. being vague is one of his best talents, it also helps with those stupid paparazzi who always follow him. the article offers some suggests: tell her you know a secret about her, tell her there’s something interesting about her and you can’t put your finger on it, tell her that’s she exactly your type but don’t tell her what you type actually is, etc. he spends most of the night plotting his exact words, and the next day, when he sees marinette, it just comes spilling out…
  • adrien: “i know your secret, marinette.”
    marinette: “…what?”
    well shit, adrien thought, the article didn’t tell him what happened after this.
    adrien: “…i know it. your secret… i knew there was something about you that i couldn’t put my finger on.”
    marinette: “…wait, so you know? ohmygodthiscan’tbehappening,ohmygod, how did you figure it out???”
  • adrien wasn’t sure what to do after this point, so like the article said, he leaves her wanting more and nopes the fuck outta there, cha-cha sliding out of the classroom and bolting down the hallway before she could catch him.
  • 3. the sensual look: once a girl is comfortable around you, give her a mischievous look that makes her think. the article (and nino) never really explain what the girl will think about, but adrien totally supports girl empowerment and helping those smart cookies get the best grades and brilliance recognition they deserve. if a mischievous smile is all it takes, then he’s more than happy to help.
  • he flashes her a quirky smirk in Madame Bustier’s lecture, marinette notices and freezes up. he thinks he did it wrong when nino just leans closer and says, “you broke marinette.”
  • adrien apologizes after class and swears he’ll never break her again. marinette just mumbles, “you can break me anytime.”
  • adrien thinks it’s counterproductive. 
  • 4. the surprise wink: whenever you pass her, just wink after you lock eyes, nino says, she won’t expect it and it’ll surprise her but give her the clear and distinct message that you are flirting with her. adrien wants marinette to know he likes her and wants to flirt with he rand wants to date her and just be with her, so he winks every time he gets. 
  • they see each other in class? wink he catches her eyes while they study for physics? wink they talk about madame bustier’s homework? wink she asks him for his opinion on her designs? wink 
  • at first, she giggles. after two weeks, she presents him with a bottle of over-the-counter artificial tears for his “eye twitch.” he stops winking after that and doesn’t talk to nino for the rest of the day.
  • 5. the playful bump: playful actions, like bumping, will definitely make a girl smile. 
  • adrien: “but nino, i could hurt her.”
    nino: “no, my dude, she knows you’re teasing.”
    adrien: “i don’t care if she knows. what if i knock her over?”
    nino: “no, you don’t do it hard, you just–”
    adrien: “what if she falls over and breaks her nose? i don’t wanna break her nose, nino. she has a cute nose.”
    nino: “adrien, you’re not gonna break her–”
    adrien: “niNO
  • 6. the understatement: understate the compliments you give her, okay, okay, adrien can do this. it’s simple.
  • adrien: “marinette, your eyes are blue… like avatar’s skin. just blue.. all over.. it’s great. not the brightest blue, but not the darkest. just blue. you have blue eyes, marinette.”
    marinette: *is speechless*
    nino: “…you nailed that, adrien.”
    adrien: “oh thanks, nino.”
  • 7. the double negative, “i don’t think you’re not beautiful”: 
    adrien: “but i do think she’s beautiful.”
    nino: “i know, you’re telling her that.”
    adrien: “but you just said i don’t think she’s beautiful?”
    nino: “no, no, you said you don’t think she’s not beautiful, so ergo you think she is beautiful.”
    adrien: “…grammar hurts my head, nino.”
    nino: “i know, my dude, i understand.”
  • 8. the sensual tease, tease her for liking you: okay, but adrien doesn’t know if marinette likes him like that? nino swears she does, and alya says so too, but it still makes him feel bad for teasing her. so he doesn’t tease her and just keeps doing stuff like he normally does, like walking her home from school and helping her study physics and giving her advice for her designs and keeping a stash of food for her on the mornings she runs late and he knows she didn’t have breakfast yet.
  • nino rolls his eyes, but adrien doesn’t care. his momma didn’t raise no hooligan. no, if he was going to flirt with marinette, at least he can be a gentleman about it.
  • 9. the moniker: giving her a cute nickname will let her know how special she is. adrien spends a week thinking about it, and nino gives him a few suggestions, but he doesn’t listen. if he’s giving marinette a nickname, it has to be something he does because it’ll let her know she’s special to him.
  • a few days later, he slips up and calls her “princess” because she’s pretty, sweet, smart, likes pink, and is a natural born leader just like a royal. marinette freezes when he calls her that, but she smiles and laughs eventually. she seems to like it, and he keeps doing it. it’s fitting, he supposes, for someone like her. marinette, his princess.
  • does that mean he gets to be her knight?
  • nino calls him a nerd.
  • 10. tell her how you feel: it’s the last step, and adrien agonizes over it for days. it can’t really be as simple as nino makes it out to be, but then again, his best friend has been dating a pretty sweet gal for months, so it obviously worked for him. adrien broods over it for a while, and alya warns him not to ignore marinette for days again, and he swears he isn’t. he’s just trying to find his courage. why oh why is it so much easier to face an akuma with certain death hanging over his head than tell a girl how he really feels?
  • marinette decides to take matters into her own hands, which he isn’t really surprised by because she usually is a head-strong, independent female. what he is surprised by is when ladybug swings into his bedroom window and transforms into marinette right before his very eyes.
  • marinette: “why are you ignoring me? did i do something wrong?”
    adrien: *adrien.exe has stopped working*
    marinette: “…adrien?”
    adrien: “…you’re… ladybug?!”
    marinette: “yeah, i know. you know. we’ve been over this–”
    adrien: “nononoNO, we most certainly haven’t.”
    marinette: *marinette.exe has stopped working*
    adrien: “…marinette?”
    marinette: “I… but you said you knew my secret.”
    adrien: “I WAS BEING VAGUE.”
    marinette: “WHY?!”
    adrien: “IVE BEEN FLIRTING WITH YOU.”
    marinette: “…you have?”
    adrien: “well, i was trying–”
  • plagg: *pops out of adrien’s pocket* “oh, are we trading secrets?”
    tikki: *pops out of marinette’s bag* “I think so?”
    plagg: *holds out paw to marinette* “fine. im plagg, i turn him into chat noir. nice to finally meet you. i’m glad you guys are finally telling each other, it’s been so tiring listening to him mooning over you. do you have any cheese?”
    marinette: “…you’re chat noir?”
    adrien: *dies*

so marinette and adrien are dating now, so in a way he thinks his plan worked? that doesn’t stop marinette from asking him how he thought he’d been flirting, so he tells her nino’s tips. she laughs for a week straight. that’s the last time he ever listens to nino.

an adrien version of this post. some people asked for an adrien version, it’s not directly a sequel, but still another au. just two nerds trying to flirt and failing spectacularly. 

I'm On My Knee

Hi babes! This is a marshmallow-soft story about the reader and Tom having a special inside joke. That inside joke being Tom dramatically falling down onto one knee to tease her after she accidentally tells him that it’s always been how she wants to get proposed to. The inside joke makes the both of them think a lot about their future and cuteness ensues! I hope that you like it!

Side note: The film was everything I wanted it to be and more? It owns my entire heart? The cast did so well and I’m so happy for all of them and my heart is just overflowing with love and I’m going to see the film again tomorrow!

I’m On My Knee

“He makes me want to wear a white dress and walk down the aisle.” She murmured to her boyfriend, utterly and completely inebriated. “I want to learn how to cook so he can always come home to a hot meal. He makes me want to learn more so that I’ll always have new things to talk to him about, and he makes me want to take care of myself so that I can look good for him. I wanna read every book on the planet earth and watch every film, just so I have stories to tell him before we go to sleep. But, mostly, he makes me wanna wear a white dress and walk down the aisle.”

    Tom smiled, securing a strong arm around her waist before she had the opportunity to slip from the barstool she was trying to twirl on. Holding her still, he questioned, “anything else you want, darling?”

    Lurching forward, she twined her arms around his neck and moved to perch on his knee. She shoved her face into Tom’s neck and breathed in deeply, dragging her hands across the expanse of her boyfriend’s chest. He smelled of french cologne, the fabric of his shirt felt soft beneath her cheek, and she was so close to him that she could count the beats of his heart. “I love you.”

    Supporting her frame, Tom kissed the top of her head, “I love you more.” She sighed into his chest and Tom helped her to her feet, making sure that he still had her locked in his arms. “Let’s get you home now, drunky.”

“I want him on his knee like in the old films,” she added before she allowed Tom to guide her to their parked car.

    Truly, Tom felt the same way about her, but there was no way that he wouldn’t tease her about her intoxicated confession every chance he got. He’d been dreaming about how beautiful she’d look walking down the aisle to meet him since their third date and it comforted him that she seemed to feel the same way.

    She knew that she had majorly screwed up the next morning when Tom dropped down onto one knee, offering her a bottle of advil and a glass of water to soothe the pounding in her head that refused to be ignored.

    “On my knee, baby, just how you wanted!” Tom smiled, his curls flopping down in his eyes in the most endearing of ways. She hated that he looked so cute while he was so successfully embarrassing her.

    Groaning, she brought her hands up to cover her face, “Tom, stop! I told you that I was just drunk. Let it go!” She pleaded, blush spreading as far as the tips of her ears.

    Her boyfriend feigned hurt feelings, “well, if you were truly joking, guess I’m out of here. Gotta go get me a girl who’s in it for the long haul.” Tom joked as he moved to walk out the door.

    “Tom,” she whined before rushing forward to keep him in place with a hug. “Stop being so dumb and help me make pancakes. You flip them better than I do.”

    Smiling down at her, Tom took of her hands within his own and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, “One day, I’ll be way more than just your boyfriend who flips pancakes better than you do. One day, I’ll be your husband who flips pancakes better than you do.” Tom laughed, picking her up to spin her around the kitchen.

    She was happy that Tom was focused on not dropping her or running into anything because she was even pinker than she’d thought previously possible and she was positive that the smile on her face was so huge that her face would crack into halves. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have the greatest job, it didn’t matter that she was absolute shit at math, in fact, she couldn’t think of anything that mattered to her more than what Tom had just said. He was planning on a future with her and she was so elated that she spent the entire rest of her week floating from place to place on a bed made of cotton candy clouds.

    The next time Tom dropped to one knee for her, it was in the flower shop while she was sifting through bins of tulip bouquets for their friend’s dinner party. “Because I love you,” Tom said, holding out a bundle of daisies.

    Rolling her eyes, she took the flowers and bent forward to kiss Tom tenderly on the mouth. “Because I love you,” she repeated back to him before taking both bouquets to the register while Tom struggled to free his wallet before she could pay for her daisies.

    The time after that, Tom fell to one knee when she had come home with smudged mascara and tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. Hurrying off the couch, he dropped to one knee in front of her, pulling her to perch softly onto his popped knee. “What’s the matter darling?”

    Shrugging her shoulders, her lower lip trembled and she merely hid her face in Tom’s neck.  Stroking her hair and mumbling the words to ‘Moon River’ into her ears, Tom waited for her to tell him what was upsetting her. He did his best to search his mind for anything he could’ve done, anything her friend’s could’ve done, anything at home that could have upset her and came back with nothing. Tom briefly had a fleeting feeling that he was failing as her husband until it clicked in his brain that he hadn’t ever gotten down on one knee before her to present her with an actual ring.

    That night, while she snuggled into the crook of his arm, her face hidden so close to his neck that Tom could feel her lips press into his skin, he looked up some photos of rings. Each time Tom found a particularly nice ring, he’d zoom in and envision it on her lovely hands. Looking down at her hand that was loosely curled around his waist, he murmured to her sleeping form, “nobody, not even the rain,has such small hands.” His girl had been on an E.E. Cummings kick and clearly the poetry she read aloud to him had rubbed off on Tom.

    Placing his phone back into it’s charging station on their nightable, Tom laid down and  made sure to lace his fingers through her own before he shut eyes to sleep, agreeing with E. E. Cummings  that nobody had such small hands. Such small hands that a glittering ring would only compliment.

    The next weekend, as she and Tom strolled through the supermarket to grab some fresh vegetables and fruit, and maybe a loaf of bread to go along with dinner, Tom spotted the baked goods aisle. Getting completely sidetracked, Tom stood staring at the pastries while she carried on in search of the produce section. Glancing at her retreating figure and then back at the deserts, Tom grabbed an armful of cookies, cinnamon rolls and cupcakes before hurrying after her.

    Her eyes widened when she saw her boyfriend nearly skipping towards her, arms overflowing with pastries. “Tom,” she started, cocking her hip and raising her brows, “that is ridiculous. Pick one thing, we already have too many snacks as it is!”

    “No, no, darling, you don’t get it. We’d leave the cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and we could eat the cookies as a snack, and then the cupcakes could be after dinner.” Tom tried to ration.

    “Tom, I’ll eat them all and then get bigger and you know I’m trying to look good this summer!” She whined, shaking her head and silently pleading for Tom to at least put one of the items he was holding back.

    Shuffling the food around in his arms, Tom attempted to clutch all the food with only one hand. Gently moving her hair away from her eyes, Tom kissed her temple. “Darling, you know that you’re perfect. There’s nothing wrong with how you look, and nothing would be wrong with how you look even if you decided to inhale the entire pastry department on your own. I love the way you think, how kind you are to others, and you’re one of the smartest and least arrogant people that I know! I love you for your heart, and your brain. I thank the universe every night for your lungs and your kidneys, because they make you. You’re sweet-ass body just happens a perk of loving you.”

    Tom kissed her one last time before dropping down onto one knee before her, “c’mon angel, please?” He asked one last time.

    Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s cheesiness, she placed the cupcakes and the cinnamon rolls in her basket before leading Tom over to the fruit and asking him to pick out the crunchiest apples for their salad.

    When Tom fell to one knee again, it was after she had gone shopping with her friends and was currently modeling her new purchases at his request. She had exited the bathroom in which she was changing in, wearing an extremely short, white dress that left very little, if anything to Tom’s imagination. The dress was littered with small, red roses and had straps that were tied into a bow. As she twirled for him, Tom could see that the straps were the only thing holding her new dress together and by the time that she’d stopped her spinning, Tom was on one knee.

    “Should I take this off myself or do you wanna get up off the floor and help me?” She giggled, toying with the bow sitting atop her shoulder blade.

    As Tom carefully untied her dress and watched it fall to the ground, he muttered, “pretty ring would go nice with the roses.”

    She could barely hear what Tom had said, let alone comprehend it, as he began to pepper her exposed body with warm kisses. Stuttering out an barely audible, “uh-huh,” as Tom mouthed over the sensitive spot she had just beneath her ear.

    As time went on, “I’m on my knee,” became a phrase that she would hear from Tom almost as frequently as he said “I love you.” He’d drop to his knee in public, private, essentially everywhere they went. She was nearly convinced that Tom on his knee wouldn’t ever mean anything other than their inside joke, but little did she know how Tom feeling.

    Each time he dropped down onto one knee before her, it always made him long to obtain a ring to present her with. Considering that he was on his knee for her essentially everyday now, so much so that even the press was completely desensitized to photos of Tom on his knee before his girl, he was legitimately out and about looking for rings.

    He’d recruited his mother to assist with the search, begged Harrison, Jacob, his brothers, his father, and even her mother to help him with the search, but none of them could find a ring that Tom felt was worthy of her hands. Each time someone would send him a photo of a ring that left Tom dissatisfied, which was often, he’d simply send back the verse from ‘Somewhere I Have Never Traveled, Gladly Beyond,’ regarding the smallest of hands. At this point, nobody was sure what he meant. Once Harrison had tried to clarify what exactly the rain having tiny hands had to do with the ring search, but he came back describing a look of genuine craziness in his best mate’s eyes and decided to drop it.

    It was only after Tom had wandering into an antique shop with his mother that he found something perfect for her. The wedding ring was vintage and even came with an engagement ring, and after Tom had spent countless hours on the weekend thrifting and wandering in an out of hidden gem shops with his girl, he knew that she’d love it.

    Tom could only hide the ring for about a week. He was utter and complete shit at hiding things, especially from her, and the ring felt as if it was burning a hole through his pocket. He couldn’t wait to let the whole world know that she was going to his forever and he’d be hers for just as long. Tom just needed to create the perfect moment.

    Luckily for him, the perfect moment came the very next morning. Tom trailed behind her, kissing the back of her neck softly as she laughed and threaded her fingers up through his curls. They were deep within the poetry section of the most massive library Tom had ever seen and when she reached up to grab a novel, Tom felt as if the wind got knocked out of him. In her hands sat a copy of E. E. Cummings collected poems and while she sifted through the pages, Tom prayed inwardly to the universe for her to read the poem that he knew was destined to be hers.

    Not allowing her time to chose a poem, Tom dropped down to one knee while her back was still turned on him. Digging the ring out from the confines of his pocket, he could only get the last few lines of the poem out. “I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice in your eyes is deeper than all roses.”

    As Tom neared the end of the poem, she turned and opened her mouth to say the last verse with him. “Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.” She smiled, completely prepared to meet Tom’s eyes as she finally faced him.

    At first, the only thing her mind could register was that her boyfriend was on his knee, as always. It took her a second to take in the ring that glittered off of the library’s bright ceiling chandelier. Pressing a hand over her lips, she struggled to breath, her small hands gripping the open poetry book in her hands. “Do you mean it, Tom?” She questioned, her eyes flicking down to the ring he was presenting her with.

    His eyes were glassy in the light, and Tom smiled, “course I do, darling. I’m on my knee after all.”


You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt

Masterlist linked in bio


If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”


The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.

Lover.

It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.


He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”


But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

Patronus
  • So the patronus isn’t straight up taught in Hogwarts, as a wise professor once said, it’s a ‘highly advanced spell, well beyond O.W.L level’
  • But you know, this is the marauders, the rebellious little nerds that we all know and love.
  • So James got hold of a book from  the library one day about how to do the patronus and it seemed very cool. Not the whole fighting dementors part, but the distant and simple communication? priceless for a marauder.
  • And so they all stayed up one night trying to learn how to do it.
  • Sirius was actually the first to successfully do the spell. He had spent the last hour lavishly flinging his wand in the air shouting ‘Expecto Patronum!’ to no avail. Them Remus told him he should try to think of a happier memory.
  • He thought of the first time he had called Euphemia Potter ‘mum’. It had been an accident and had really just slipped out. He had been so embarrassed. But none of the Potter’s seemed to have noticed. A few moments later James had turned over to Sirius and said.’Could you pass your brother the salt then?’
  • And Sirius had never felt more part of a family in his life.
  • He was so engrossed in the memory he didn’t even notice the frantic black dog shoot out to his wand and knock Peter onto his backside.
  • Peter was next, he was thinking of the moment when some of the Slytherins had been bullying him earlier one day in first year and he had been crying down by the lake all afternoon, only to have Remus come up and sit behind him, rubbing his back and comforting him. Then Sirius and James had pushed the Slytherins into the Black lake right in front of him. How they had laughed. Real friends.
  • The small rat that scurried out of Peter’s wand that night was the first and last one Peter could ever produce. This was 6th year and soon the war became to much for the young boy.
  • Standing next to a struggling James, Remus was viciously whispering and flicking his wrists over and over again. ‘Expecto Patronum. Expecto Patronum. Expecto f’fucks sake. This is hopeless.’
  • ‘You can do it Moony.’ Sirius smiled.
  • Remus thought about the first time he had kissed the stupid black haired Gryffindor in front of him. Sirius had been stealing something out of one of the cupboards along the school corridors when Remus had caught him on prefect rounds.
  • Looking back on it Remus couldn’t help but laugh at how unsubtle Sirius had been about the whole thing. ‘Oh, we seem to have bumped into each other Moons’ ‘What a coincidence.’ Remus of course had just assumed Sirius was trying to tease him into giving him detention, something Remus would never do, and had ended up getting pretty annoyed and flustered about being this close to Sirius in a small space and omg he could feel the heat of his skin and ah this was too much and he couldn’t stop talking.
  • Until Sirius closed that little gap between them to shut him up.
  • And Remus had never been happier. And he had never looked back.
  • And then a large animal came running out of the end of his wand, and Remus thought to himself.
  • ‘It’s a dog! Sirius and I have the same Patronus!’
  • Only Remus’ was much bigger than Sirius’ dog… and it’s tail was bushier.. and did it just howl?
  • No. This wasn’t fair. Not this. That wasn’t how this was supposed t be. It was meant to be a happy memory. This wasn’t fair, after all this time, the one thing he thought he could share with his boyfriend.. and this was what he gets… another reminder about how imperfect and unworthy and unwanted…
  • And then there was Sirius standing next to him, sliding his arm around his back and kissing him gently on the cheek.
  • ‘I love it.’ He whispered.
  • ‘ ‘s not fair.’ Remus mumbled.
  • ‘Remus look.’ Sirius replied. ‘it’s not that. It’s a wolf. A normal wolf. A loyal and pack having, friendly wolf.’
  • And Sirius was grinning.
  • But Remus just shrugged.
  • James was having the most trouble of them all.
  • Something was wrong, he just couldn’t seem to do it. He kept thinking of happy memories, first time he rode a broom, first time Sirius came to stay, first time he transformed into a stag.
  • And still nothing.
  • Tiny wisps of silver.
  • And then nothing.
  • ‘It’s fine James, we already know what it’s going to be.’
  • ‘I know,’ James replied through gritted teeth. ‘I just want to see it.’
  • And he was so fustrated.
  • And making a crap load of noise about it too.
  • So much noise in fact, that he started to wake the other residents of the Gryffindor tower up from their slumber.
  • And so a very grumpy and tired Lily Evans came storming down the staircase.
  • ‘What in Merlin’s name are you twats doing now!’
  • ‘Ah Evans.’ Sirius grinned. ‘care to join us?’
  • ‘It’s three in the fucking morning Black! I’m supposed to be sleeping, except someone has been screaming for the past half hour about how hard this is and he trying but it’s not working, and I can’t tell if James is finally losing his virginity or doing his homework for once, but what I do know is that it’s stopping me from being able to enjoy the few hours of the day that I don’t have to be around you lot.’
  • A rather deeply embarrassed James pushed past a bent-over-with-laughter Sirius.
  • ‘Actually Lily,’ he said, trying to act suave and like he hand’t just heard the last bit. ‘We are trying to do the patronus charm.’
  • This had peaked Lily’s interest, and although she knew better, she asked. ‘Really? The patronus charm? Wow. A proper one?’
  • ‘Yepp.’ peter chimed in. ‘And we’ve all been able to do it, except for James.’
  • Lily cocked her eyebrow.
  • ‘Oh.’ She smiled. ‘Let me try then.’
  • James, not wanting to be shown up any more by the fiery red head who was hopelessly in love with, quickly butted in. ‘No no. I mean, you can try.. but its really hard and took everyone ages to master and you’ll be up all night trying and-’
  • ‘Potter.’ She replied sternly.
  • It only took her three attempts.
  • And there it was.
  • A beautiful silver shimmering doe burst through the tip of her wand and gracefully ran across the common room, galloping past it occupants before turning and vanishing as Lily dropped her arm. She grinned.
  • ‘See? Not so hard then.’
  • James just stared. Open mouthed. Like the rest of the marauders. Dumb-founded in total and complete shock, until Lily just gave up on them and went back off to bed.
  • James didn’t have any trouble producing a Patronus after that.
Foreign

Plot: Jimin always thought his traditional Korean girlfriend was perfect – that was, until he realized how beautiful foreigners could be.

Pairing: Idol!Park Jimin x Backup Dancer!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Notes: I based this off of every single MTL I have seen of BTS dating a girl of a different race or a girl of color – Jimin always seems to be one of the people who were least likely to date one. I definitely do not think that Jimin is this ignorant in any way. This is only a work of fiction. This is for all the international beauties! 2,536 Words

Familiar | masterlist

Originally posted by bwipsul

“Oppa, I’m missing you so much!”

“I’m missing you too, my love. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few days, okay?”

One of the worst parts about tour was leaving lovers behind. For Jimin, it wasn’t only his lover, it was his home. He enjoyed tour, performing for all of the ARMYs around the world, going on stage; but he wasn’t a huge fan of being in a foreign country. He didn’t know English that well, and he wasn’t fond of being in a place where he couldn’t understand anything. 

“I know,” The soft voice of his significant other brought pink to his cheeks. “Call me when your rehearsal is over.”

“I will, I love you,” He glanced at the leader of his band, who was calling him over.

“I love you too.”

With that, he had ended the call with a sigh, and headed over to his band. It hadn’t even been a few minutes since he cut the call, and he was already missing her – a thought he had experienced after each long-distance conversation with his lover. The short male shook his head and got his head back in the game, his eyes going up to meet a group of people dressed in black.

“This is your dance crew for this city,” The manager announced to the band. “Not all of them know Korean, so if you have an queries, just talk to Jihoon. He is the leader.”

“We understand.”

Once that brief introduction was done, they were all left to their own devices for a few minutes, whilst the leader of the dance team talked to the leader of the band. Jimin had let himself scan over the people he would be working with; not that he would talk to them, he was just curious and bored. Most of them had masks on – no one had really caught his eyes, except for one person. 

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2

Mind Reader

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst adjacent, smut, dirty talk, LOTS of language

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I was looking through some REALLY old requests and I came across an idea from @jennalyncarrigan1230 from who knows how long ago. She pitched an idea that I have twisted and LOVE the outcome. I doubt she even remembers sending the ask, but her initial idea sparked this smutty goodness. This took on a life of its own. I haven’t wrote Dean smut or ANY smut in quite some time. This is officially DIRTY. Or at least by my standards it is. Hope you enjoy. ;) Italics & Bold indicate reader’s thoughts.  This has very little plot. Just the poor reader thinking her secret dirty thoughts about Dean only to have them be not so secret anymore.

Feedback Appreciated

Tags at the bottom

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{PART 26} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Jungkook attempts to do the impossible; keep Yoongi under control for as long as he can in his own Manor. But, after an unsuspecting escalation - everything ends in tears…and blood.

“How sobering it is, to love something that evil can corrupt”

  • || Warning: This chapter contains violence and some scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 25} {Part 26} {Part 27}

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room for two- jjk(m)

Originally posted by rapmonsexpensivegirl

summer in New York has never been so hot.

(m)-mature / 6.5k words / roomate!jungkook / happy reading !

reqs;  jungkook accidental roommate smut? u accidentally buy the same apartment (it happens in dramas often) (+)  Can I request switch!jungkook smut? Like he starts out submissive and then bOOM! He’s dominant af


Summer in New York had never been more depressing. Or hot. Every step outside seems to melt the flesh from your bones, every memory you had of him peeled another layer off your heart. It had been three months of pure hell and although the heat made the thought of being close to anyone impossibly unbearable, you’d give anything to hold him in your arms again. But he had cheated on you, left you, and the best thing to do was move on. Or at least try.

The weather forecast predicted a humid rain, clouds shrouding the ominous sky and a layer of mystery covering the roof of your new home. Or the new home you’d be sharing with four other people. This is supposed to be the city of new beginnings and independent lives. Where one can explore themselves through the city. But sadly, as a transferred college student, the only thing you could afford was a share house in the middle of Brooklyn.  

Sucking in a deep breath, you grunt while lugging your large suitcase and duffel up the short set of stairs, banging on the door somewhat gracefully with your elbow. Almost immediately, as if you’d been waited upon, the door unlatches and an older, thinner woman appears. Her skin is somewhere between tan and gold, wrinkle lines around her eyes and mouth. The hair atop her head is swirled into an artful bun, small wisps of white-gray hair escaping the masterpiece.

“Just on time,” her voice is sweet, slow, and welcoming, stepping aside and waving you in.

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Pleasing you

Synopsis: Stolen from Earth when you were only a teenager, what is left of your life consists of training to become an obedient pleasure slave on Sakaar… that is, until the Grandmaster, your slave driver, decides to gift you to King Loki, who seeks to visit to observe one of the Grandmaster’s infamous gladiator fights. Now, you belong to him, obliged to fulfil his every need. A truly tempting opportunity, is it not? After all—who is the God of Mischief to miss out on all the fun that comes with being king of Asgard?

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Rating: M
Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot)
Words: 6725
Warnings: (sexual)
submission, kidnapping, (sexual) slavery, imprisonment, mentions of abuse, dub-con, smut

Read it on AO3!

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Does anyone ever think about the fact that after everything with Kate, maybe Derek goes to New York with the decision to never to be hurt that way by anyone again. Not the losing his family part, because how could he ever lose so much again, right? (Right? I’m not crying at all!) So he gets a part-time job as a grocery bagger or something, because he is young and most places won’t hire him halfway through the year. And he works after school to bring in a few bucks so that Laura’s eyes won’t be quite so pinched now that she has gotten her GED and began working to make ends meet for them in a very expensive city. After work, she then spends sometimes hours on the phone and emailing lawyers who are still trying to get all of the paperwork straight. So yeah, Derek  works to help Laura.

But then some lady at the store gives him that look. Like Kate. Her eyes are interested, and her grin is predatory, and he just knows she wants him. So he thinks to himself if he initiates it, maybe it won’t leave him feeling so wrong. So he does. And it becomes a thing. He flirts with anyone who shows him interest as he bags their groceries and “helps them to their car” even though they never need help.

From there maybe it just becomes a way of survival. As he gets older, it seems like more women want to sleep with him. He’s filling out, thanks to all of the runs he’s going on after work and thanks to the workouts he’s pushing his body through every morning. Because he has to be strong enough. He has to be bigger. He doesn’t want anyone to think they can hold him down or force him.

He learns how to play the game. One day he mentions something about that to a coworker (now working at a bar mixing drinks because someone had once told him he would make great money in tips) but his coworker didn’t think of sex as a game. Derek knew better. Maybe it wasn’t for some people, but he would never be able to trust someone in that way again, so he had to strike first before an opponent could.

One day a man at the bar looks at him just right, and Derek just thinks Oh. He’s never focused on men before, but he’s noticed them in passing. So he goes to the guy’s apartment after his shift and they sleep together. Derek pretends he’s done this before, even though he’s mostly relying on his sense of smell and hearing to tell if the guy is into different things he tries. And after that, Derek flirts with anyone he feels he has to.

So fast forward to Stiles. Stiles who is home from college after his second year has finished to make room for summer break. Stiles who means so much and is so good even when he’s an asshole. Stiles who leans in one day after a pack dinner, when he and Derek have finished cleaning up after everyone else has gone home. Stiles kisses him gently, at first, almost hesitantly. But when Derek doesn’t push him away, he presses in more firmly and suddenly Derek realizes where this is going to go. And it kind of makes him sad.

He lets Stiles slip his shirt off and push him back onto his bed. Stiles crawls on top of him and Derek begins pulling their hips together in a slow and sinuous way. But Stiles doesn’t react like any man Derek’s been with before–which really shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is. Yes, Stiles lets out a little moan, but it doesn’t break Stiles away from Derek’s mouth, where his tongue is doing things to Derek that he can’t explain. And his hands after trapping Derek’s face, but not like he’s trying to contain Derek, more like he’s holding something precious. His thumbs keep swiping across Derek’s eyebrows, like he’s memorizing their shape.

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Makeup Marichat May, Day 11. Age-up Marinette!

Title: Change
Word Count: 1,934

It’d been a while since he really saw her last. After they’d gone off to university, he’d had a hectic schedule that didn’t allow him much time to socialize with his friends from middle school or high school. Plus, with Nino away in Spain, and Alya’s web journalism internship they hardly had a chance to all get together.

Seeing her now, sitting on her balcony quietly consumed in sketching, Chat Noir was hit with an overwhelming wave of nostalgia.

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{PART 23} I Won’t Stop You (M) // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Prince Jeon Jungkook, the first of his name, teaches you the meaning of loyalty and respect. And while you submit to him entirely, you and Jungkook both think about the future, and he can’t help his love and desire to protect you overflow.

“He loved her in her entirety. He wanted to undress her mind, make love to her thoughts and deepest insecurities. She wanted to bring down the many cold walls he had built around him; and he welcomed her with open arms.”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

Please note: This chapter contains scenes of a sexual nature.

{Part 1} // {Part 22} {Part 23} {Part 24}

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Long time coming

Bucky x reader

Notes: fluff, hot coffee, Steve and Sam are bratty.

A/N: I needed something short and sweet. So here it is. Enjoy! x 

Summary: a morning incident involving hot coffee finally brings Y/N and Bucky together. 

The moment Y/N walked the kitchen door of the small cabin, Bucky’s eyes were fixed on her. Even though she just woke up and looked a mess with her bedhead and her oversized MIT jersey, he couldn’t stop watching her. As she reached over to the coffee machine she moaned softly -but dramatically- at the movements she had to make to get her daily fuel.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile. She always had a dramatic streak, in a humorous kind of way.

“You alright there, soldier?” He chuckled at her, trying his best to not stare at her ass when she reached up to grab a mug from the cupboard. She wasn’t wearing anything but her cotton panties underneath the MIT jersey, and Bucky wasn’t complaining. 

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Call It Suicide

A/N: Well, it’s been a full month since my last fic that I posted and I felt like it was time for a new one. Another Harry Styles fic because he’s such a legend and I love him so deal with it. This took me a good few days to finally finish, hence why it’s legit the longest thing I’ve ever written, because I wanted to get this really good because I literally write my fics in one night normally so enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it x.

Based on: ‘Suicide’ by James Arthur

Dedicated to: @twerkit-hxrry, and TheHSquad: @17-blackaf, @harryxmac, @snlhaz, @spectralstyles, @wishfulharrie, @stylishmuser, @hes-writings94, @the2k17harry, @roseonhissleeve, @hs-1dfan, @soloharrles, @mizpahes, @hcrrystyles, @hes-a-rainbow, @lovingstyles87, @namelesspops, @gemmadorrego, @ever-since-kiwi, @harry-writings, @harrywavycurly, @harryslittlekiwis, @hotmessharry

Warning(s): Cheater!Harry, sad themes, swearing, a section of smut with very minimal Daddy kink

Word count: 8,005

Pairing(s): Harry Styles x Reader / Harry Styles x OC (Original Character)



It ain’t the gun,
It’s the man behind the trigger.
Gets blood on his fingers and runs.
It ain’t the lie,
It’s the way that the truth is denied.


Four years.

A relationship that had withstood all trying odds thrown at it, time and time again. A relationship that, from the outside, never once seemed anything short of miraculous. Four years of that relationship had been a blessing and to her, nothing and no one could ever give her the satisfaction nor sensation of pure love and dedication, she feared she may never find something quite like it again.

It’s funny how certain situations arise, that are unexpected in the worst way possible, which make the mere thought of carrying on with the toxicity of a failed relationship unbearable.

It had taken a whole three months for her to coax a confession out of her tattooed lover which, during that time, almost made her physically ill to think about him, not only being sexually (but possibly also romantically) inclined with another woman, but lying so blatantly to her face about the multiple occasions he had, ‘ran out to get some deodorant’, during the dead of night, only to come back to their shared home in the morning with a different type of exuberant smell catching in the air from his body and clothing.

When confronted about this, however, the long-legged man stood in front of her, but yet, no eye-contact was maintained, and shook his head, pushing past the fragile woman he claimed to love for an extended period of time before slamming the heavy, mahogany bedroom door, muttering incoherent sentences on his way that normally consisted of, “Gettin’ on my fuckin’ last nerve”, and, “I ‘ave half the mind t’ leave you right fuckin’ now”.

Of course, it was when the luminous moonlight danced across the wooden floorboards of the bedroom, illuminating the whitewashed walls as if it was their own private, personal stage where they could showcase their undying love for one another, or so she once thought.

It was when the early hour of 3am came creeping around the corner with only the sounds of the wind whistling and the leaves whispering to keep her company as she laid in an empty, king-sized, luxurious bed that was meant to be a symbol of their companionship.

It was when she felt the all-too-familiar feeling of abandonment and loneliness twist inside her gut as fresh, hot tears sprung to her eyes and trickled down to her ears whilst unmoving and staring at the intricate detail of the high ceiling. She had been doing this for so many nights she was near confident that she could recite how many swirls and dots collected in the design from her counting.

Of course, it was then that she understood that she was no longer the apple of his eye. That he had escaped from her hold and found refuge in someone else’s arms. Someone else’s kiss. Someone else’s touch.

He would never admit this though, no, he would much rather sneak back into his own home where his significant other would lay, pretending to be asleep through her dry, tear-stained cheeks, rolled over to her side of the bed with him removing his clothes to slide skilfully underneath the untouched covers on his end, like he had been used to trying to not disturb her, before pressing a chaste kiss to her neck and whisper those three words that held no real regard.

He didn’t mean it.

Not since he started smelling like a perfume she could not recognise.

Every morning, a smell of fresh coffee and breakfast foods invaded his privacy that would jolt him awake, noticing his lady of four years had already made her side of the bed and left him a note in her cursive handwriting, that he used to adore, as she did routinely since they moved in together.

And every morning he would stalk downstairs to find her cooking for the both of them out of the kindness of her broken heart despite knowing about his infidelity and unfaithfulness before he wrapped his strong, manly arms around her trembling waist as sobs racked through her entire being.

Although, these said tears were soothed almost instantly as she felt the dry lips of the man she loved along her jawline and neck, peppering gentle kisses to her skin. She knew she shouldn’t be so easily swayed when he hadn’t even muttered a single word to her but she couldn’t control her feelings; feelings of anger and despair quickly dissolving into ones of adoration and desperation towards the figure looming over her.

A shaky hand was raised to caress his prickly, stubbly cheek as she closed her eyes and enjoyed one of the rare moments of intimacy the couple shared nowadays, willing herself not to shed any more saltwater from the seas swirling in her eyes.

A waft of the faint smell of cinnamon and honey contrasted with her regular scent of vanilla and fruits that brung her out of her Harry-induced daze, making her pull away from the man she could no longer trust.

“Don’t walk away from me. Please. No’ today.” He pleaded, she almost could have believed he was being genuine if it weren’t for the black lace thong she’d discovered discreetly hidden inside his trouser pocket whilst doing the laundry last Sunday. He knew this, yet he still didn’t bother to hide the piece of evidence elsewhere. It was almost as if he had wanted her to feel her heart drop to her stomach.

“Harry, by my walking away, it gives you the leverage you need t’ turn in the opposite direction and in'a her bed.” She spoke in rebuttal under her breath; hoping her words wouldn’t travel far enough and stop short before they could reach his ears; in a way, recreating how whenever she gave him her all, it never seemed to find its destination within him and instead go off-track.

Perhaps that was the reason why her love wasn’t reciprocated.

“Wha’ did you jus’ say t’ me?” The sound of heavy footsteps coming back round the large, marble countertop placed in the middle of the spacious kitchen to her after grabbing a snack from the cabinet, not only made her anxious but also incredibly uncomfortable as she never wanted to carry such negative conversations with the center of her affection, knowing that he would deny all the objectives she would present to him, similar to how he had before.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, baby.” She forced a fake smile onto her face, an expression she had grown accustomed to whenever she looked too deep into his pools of jade he called, ‘eyes’, digging out information she never thought she would have to read. She turned her body around to crash against his chiselled chest, trapping her between the oven and his own furnace, his body giving out warmth she used to find comfort in. “I didn’t say anything important, I promise, now gimme a kiss.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answer he was provided with, he leant in to press his lips hard against hers and rested his palms on her hips.

Undoubtedly, it was one of the most difficult things she had ever had to do. To kiss him as if her heart wasn’t crumbling like the walls around her; suffocating her, was too much to bare as she finally pushed him away and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

“How dare you stand here and kiss me with tainted lips you’ve put on another girl. How dare you stand here and pretend you’re committed t’ us. And how dare you stand here and make me a fool for loving you when you go out and make love t’ that woman you found at a dingy, dark nightclub one lonely winter’s night.” The streams of emotions flowed down her red, puffy cheeks as she expressed her discontent and disappointment from within.

It had been a long time coming and she knew she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Not when he made no effort to admit to his wrongdoings, but instead gave her false hope towards a relationship that was barely alive.

His arms tried to reach out towards his beautiful explosion but she couldn’t stand to look at him for longer than she had already endured and backed away from his softening stare.

He couldn’t continue his façade, not anymore.

“No, sweetheart, please…” He began to somehow explain months of late nights and cold shoulders, but she had heard and lived through everything she needed to in order to make her final decision as she knuckled away her falling tears and practically sprinted to the bedroom to collect her belongings. “It jus’ happened! It was out of my control, baby, you have t’ believe me!”

She had to leave.

No more could she sit there and act as if they were the couple they used to be in the beginning. No more could she sit there and act as if he was the man she fell in love with.

The door clicked shut just as she zipped up her suitcase, signalling he’d now entered the room that was once filled with the purity of their love. The moment he slept next to her curled up body in the middle of the Stygian night after he spent his evening in a stranger’s bed, the barrier was broken and was replaced by one of deception and distrust.

His feet padded furiously against the pristine, fluffed rug situated at the center of the space before slamming his hand on top of the lid of the luggage in an attempt to keep the woman he genuinely loved deep down from leaving him.

“Harry. Get your hand off.” She threatened with a calm, gentle voice which she never used unless she was livid behind her cool, collected nature.

“Listen t’ me. I didn’t mean for this t’ happen, I didn’t mean t’ lie t’ y-…” He, again, was cut off by her forcefully lugging her property out from under his grasp and onto the floor with a loud ‘bang’.

“It wasn’t the lie! It was never the lie! I’ve known for months, Harry. ’S the way you denied the truth every single time I asked you about it! And if you’re implying that that’s the worst of it, I don’t even wanna think about the things you’ve done t’ her and vice versa.” She stayed glaring straight into his watery irises for a few seconds before spinning on her heel and walking out, deserting a broken man with his broken heart gazing at the now wide-open entrance with traces of her vanilla scent lingering but her nowhere to be found.


You’ve been killing softly and finally,
That is too much. (Oh)
And I’m all out of whiskey,
To soak up the damage you’ve done. (Oh)


         You would think drowning her sorrows in her tears and heartbreak would’ve been enough to express her emotions but no. She had managed to find herself amongst sweaty, filthy bodies in a large bar from which she had drunk her fifth glass of strong alcohol, she could barely see straight.

With the toxic fluids coursing through her veins, the pumping bass of the latest chart-topper beating her heart for her, and conversations of the blurred people around her resounding in her psyche, she had had enough.

Hard to believe, but it was a rare occurrence that she would even bother to dress herself up and emerge from her temporary abode, with her estranged high school friend she had recently been in contact with, to appear at the local bar she used to go to with Harry whenever they wanted to get away.

It used to be a sort of sanctuary for the two of them. It used to be a chance to just talk about their day and their feelings to each other without anyone else prying into their business. But now it was, and would forever be, “the place where he met her”.

“The place where he inadvertently broke the bond between lovers which he vowed to never do”.

Yet still, there she was.

Sitting alone on a high stool, gripping the side of her glass so tightly that the beads of condensation evaporated under the red heat of her fingers and inner turmoil.

She had just been staring at the wine glasses hanging down from the ceiling, like bats in a cave, whilst downing her beverage in record speed which allowed her to move swiftly onto her next drink. Even the bartender had started to get conscious of her intake and that was enough for him to then refuse to supply another source of liquor.

Her newly rekindled friendship with her high school classmate had been put to the test that evening and unfortunately, by her having no one she knew around in her presence, let her know that she need not care for the whereabouts of her friend as they didn’t care for hers after the second round of alcohol.

The sudden deprivation of a stinging solution making its way down her throat since she had been scolded like a child for the excessiveness of her drinking, made her mind wander into the fields of betrayal that replaced the meadows of happiness she used to frolic in with the man she used to think she would one day marry.

As soon as her gaze fixated on the empty glass in front of her, the saline tears poured over the barrier of her waterline and left her silently sobbing through her harrowing heartbreak.

Dying from a broken heart was something she had only read about in the news and never once believed it to ring true but as she sat there, in Harry and her bar, she could practically feel her chest contracting and splitting into two halves. Although, she didn’t really understand how considering he still had her heart in the palm of his hands and desperate for his love.

The mere sight of a grown woman openly, and drunkenly, weeping must’ve been hard for surrounding strangers to handle since by the time she had ceased her muffled cries to soft sniffles and looked up with bloodshot, sore eyes - most of the partygoers she had mixed in with had departed and left only her and a few stragglers behind with a busied bartender wiping down spilt beverages with a cloth.

The palms of her hands were raised to her reddened face and rubbed over her features to try and soothe her outburst of feelings as a heavy sigh was blown out from her pale lips in response to the heavyweight she felt in her chest.

Heels clicked on the floor of the building as she dug into her purse to find flimsy pieces of paper that represented a form of payment she could offer the man behind the counter for the alcohol she had consumed.

“On the ‘ouse.” A clear, but deep voice sounded from in front of her as her glass was collected, “Yeh look like yeh had a bad one so don’t worry 'bout it.”

Her hard and focused stare switched from her trying to find her money in her purse to kind, pitiful, sapphire eyes as she faced the generous bartender.

“Noo. No, I can’t jus’ no’ payy yew. ’Ve 'ad like nine'een drinkss-..” Her slurred speech in between her not-so-subtle sniffs and hiccups made the stranger chuckle and she watched how his shoulders moved, fascinated by the way they were connected to his body that she felt the need to touch hers to confirm her suspicions that yes, she had shoulders too.

“Don’t mention it, love, I’ll call you a taxi.” He informed the unsteady woman the other side of the counter before picking up his phone and dialling a number he knew off by heart from the amount of times he had to ring because of previous passed out customers.

Love.

A completely innocent and everyday nickname she had been called before by many people, but this particular time made her legs shake and her lip quiver as she fought to hold back more streams of sadness.

Harry used to call her, “love”.

Harry used to show her love.

And Harry used to give her love.

But that was all gone.

All of it wasted and bestowed onto the other woman in her relationship.

She supposed it was a good thing that he had decided to take that route. She supposed it was a good thing that he made it clear she wasn’t enough. That she wasn’t what he wanted. That way she could confidently move on and find another to treat her right.

But her heart wouldn’t allow it.

Her heart remained in the familiar hands of her puppeteer and continued to make his own lovesick puppet out of her. Why? She may never understand. She only knew that he had a fatal hold on her; squeezing ever so softly but growing tighter with each and every day that passed by, that she feared she might have wound up helpless and perishing in his addicting arms.

He had been killing her softly, albeit unknowingly, but she had finally decided it was too much and escaped his grasp physically.

His emotional duress on her, however, was a different story altogether which she thoroughly believed she would never be able to evade.



If there is one thing that I’m guilty of,
It’s loving and giving when you take too much.

//•//
If there’s anything I’m guilty of,
It’s loving you too much.


         “Harry, stop!” The exclamation was followed by a giggle as she extended her hands out to cover the lens of the new, vintage camera she had purchased especially for him on their third year anniversary as a strong, steady couple.

“You’re jus’ the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, darlin’, I 'ave t’ take photos t’ capture your beauty.” He exaggerated and winked when he switched his eyes to stare at her smiling face rather than through the viewfinder.

“Ew, you’re such a dork.” A pillow was lugged at his head which, as a result, made his curls fly out in every direction possible, him then looking like a human version of Simba. “You look the most attractive you’ve ever looked right now, baby.” A snort came from her button nose as she reached for the device in his hands, turning it on him and clicking the shutter multiple times at different angles.

“And you just sounded the most attractive you’ve ever sounded.” He spoke in rebuttal before shaking his hair out of his face and tamed it slightly.

A playful pout was brought upon her lips as a sign of her disappointment that her masterpiece was ruined but she continued to shoot amateur pictures of the stunning man with legs either side of her hips since she would never tire of looking at his perfectly structured face and features that were God’s gift.

“Oi, ’m s'posed t’ be taking pictures of you, my love.” His hands found their way to his hips and she figured that, in that moment, he had never looked more adorable so the shutter sounded once more to signal that she’d documented the sight on the roll of film in the camera. “’M gonna need yeh t’ stop before I get rowdy.”

“Rowdy?” A loud guffaw sounded as she lowered the camera down to her lap and just merely glanced up at the mess of curls on top of her in disbelief and fond. “I’d like t’ see you try t’ get 'rowdy’, honey, you’re the most calm and collected person I know.”

As soon as she placed the photographic equipment to one side, her arms were pinned above her head by a strong force coming from her short-haired lover and before she knew it, she could feel his fringe tickling her forehead since he leant forwards and hovered over her.

“I can be rowdy when I wan’ to, yeh know that more than anybody, pet.” He lowered his voice down at least one octave as he spoke, a glint of mischief in his sparkling eyes.

“Mm…” She pretended to think as a borderline seductive hum sounded from her throat. “I have no idea wha’ you’re talkin’ about, H.” A shake of her head only further exaggerated her point as she tried to prove her unknowingness and innocence.

A low, breathy chuckle resounded from deep in his chest, seemingly-always-minty breath fanning over her face gently, before he pressed a loving peck to her plump lips.

It was intimate moments like these where she felt she had never been more content, nor could she probably ever be more content without him.

It was intimate moments like these where she felt almost certain that there would never be another man more catered to her soul as he was and she intended on keeping him forever.

“‘M gonna love you ‘til the day I die.” The soft whisper coming from his lips transferred onto hers and she could feel tingles rush throughout her body. “Ev’ry day I spend with you jus’ gets better and better, I don’t know wha’ you’re doin’ t’ me.”

A caressing touch was brought to his cheeks as she pulled his face up to stare into his emerald eyes. She never got tired of looking into the windows of his soul - she thought as if they held information about himself that was only revealed if someone was to gaze intently into them.

“And ev’ry day I spend with you, makes me wan’ t’ never live another day without yeh, you’re my world.” A grin started to grow on his features but she carried on before he had the chance to reply, fearing that if she didn’t tell him what she had wanted to for so long, she might never get the opportunity, nor courage, to again. “You, Harry Edward Styles, are the reason tha’ ev’ry morning when I lie in bed next t’ you, I wan’ t’ scream at how much I adore watching you yawn and stretch when yeh make that little noise to shake the tiredness off. You are the reason tha’ ev’ry night when we take a shower together, I wan’ t’ kiss yeh until our lungs give out because I don’t ever wan’ t’ stop. You are the reason tha’ ev’ry time when I see yeh performing, I wan’ t’ jus’ run up on stage with you and show ev’rybody there that you’re mine and how proud I am of you. Words will never be able to describe how much I’m smitten with you, Harry, you’re the most amazing guy ‘ve ever met and I’ll be damned ‘f I see another chick on your arm.” She had to pause momentarily as she felt a familiar touch wiping away a stray tear that had trickled down her cheek in the heat of her emotions before nervously laughing and continuing to finish her mini-speech. “I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much, I don’t think you’ll understand.”

The only response that was mustered from the tanned man was a shake of the head in disbelief at the meaningful moment that she had just shared with him, he felt a slight twinge in his stomach he couldn’t identify before placing his elbows either side of her head, careful not to rest on her sprawled out hair, and, once more, pressing his raspberry lips against hers in a passionate seal of affection.

He shifted his weight onto his forearms in order to place himself in between her bent legs without breaking their kiss and let out a quiet groan of satisfaction against her mouth. Her hands reached up to tangle in his cut curls, tugging on them lightly just as a teaser. He ended up cupping her behind as he pulled away from her soft lips to flip their bodies over to allow for him to be the one on his back and situated his woman on top of his hips, squeezing hers temporarily as an indication to keep kissing him.

And when has she ever refused him?

A small smile appeared on her face before dropping her top half down onto his chest and reconnecting their pairs of lips. Hands pressed to his firm chest as legs straddled his frame before trailing her fingers gently down to the hem of his shirt.

“Take it off, baby.” A breathless plea was heard from the man underneath her which gave her the boost of confidence she felt she needed which encouraged her to remove the first item of clothing from his toned body and she couldn’t help but run her hands up and down his beautiful torso. “Now le’ me see you.”

She raised her own top over her head herself and threw it somewhere unknown, just as she did his t-shirt, and revelled in his reaction to her reveal, noting the way he trailed his eyes up her exposed chest and bit his lip. “Look a’ you. My gorgeous girl.”

She felt the rose colour blush onto her cheeks, she thought she would’ve been better off as a traffic light, before she looked down to try and hide the obvious effect he had on her but was stopped by his forefinger lifting up her chin and guiding the other hand to the clasp of her lace bra, unclipping it expertly with a single movement, and looking at her intense eyes. “I never wan’ you t’ feel like you have to hide around me.” The straps fell down her shoulders as soon as she relaxed her arms to remove the piece of lingerie, giving her significant other a firsthand view of her bare chest, whilst he fondled her breasts generously and massaged them. “You’re beautiful and you’re mine, I wan’ yeh t’ believe it.”

Her head tilted backwards at the sensation of him having her cupped in his hands and lovingly playing with her as she felt a tweak on her left nipple and a wet tongue flick on her right. A short intake of air gasped from her throat in surprise at the sudden attention but she wasn’t complaining.

To show her gratitude, she found that her hips started to grind down on him - both their clothed crotches rubbing against one another, making them both let out a soft sound of appreciation.

“Wanna taste you…” She chirped after she had plucked up the courage to tell him while his mouth was still on her, alternating between each nipple.

“’M not stopping yeh, baby.” He spoke in reply as he detached himself from her boobs, giving them playful, but gentle, little smacks, and watched them jiggle slightly to his amusement.

By him taking it upon himself to lay back down, she took it as a sign to hop off him momentarily and hook her thumbs inside the matching lace material of her panties (she hadn’t bothered to put on bottoms - she liked wearing his shirts) before swaying her hips side-to-side. She liked to give him his own private show every once in awhile to watch him grow harder within the constraints of his jeans as he watched her.

Some could say she had a slight kink for exhibiting herself for him and she felt proud that he liked what he saw every time, enough to show off that cheeky smirk of his that she loved so much and bite his lip.

She successfully managed to drop the skimpy thong to the floor and stepped out of it, rendering her completely naked, whilst she crawled back onto the bed and in between his spread legs.

Her hand flew straight the the button of his skin-tight, charcoal jeans and pulling down the zip slowly, flicking her eyes up to see his face that construed his impatience. A light titter came from her lips as she begun to pull the waistband of the item of clothing down his legs and off his body teasingly, planting pecks down his thighs and legs in the process but intentionally avoiding where he needed her most. “God, sweetheart, please.” He started to beg, he couldn’t wait anymore. He felt painfully hard already and she wasn’t doing anything to relieve it - just make it worse.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, honey, I didn’t realise you wanted me so bad.” She feigned innocence with a pout of her bottom lip before she grinned mischievously and palmed him through his boxers.

The sudden attention to his most sensitive area made him rut his hips forward onto her hand with a half-arsed apology mumbled from him before a low groan erupted, interrupted by her reaching up and connecting her lips to his in a kiss as she continued to work him through the thin material.

As she felt a wet patch forming due to the pre-cum leaking from his tip, she concluded that there had been enough teasing so she pulled herself away from his luscious lips as his boxers followed suit with his jeans and were tossed aimlessly somewhere in the room.

Standing to attention, the red, aching head of his dick looked too enticing for her to ignore as she started to give him kisses and kitten licks. A small growl of approval from him gave her the confirmation she needed to then flatten her tongue against the underside of him and lick a stripe along him until she reached the tip, swirling her tongue around it like a lollipop.

A shiver was sent through his body as he looked down at his lover and gripped her hair in his fist. He watched her lips wrap around his, he must admit, larger-than-average size and take as much as she could fit in her mouth before she began to suck.

A strangled cry came from him as she unexpectedly opened up her throat and attempted to take all of him. As soon as her nose touched his trimmed hairs, he let out a yelp of pleasure since he felt himself at the back of her throat before she gagged, making the muscles clench around him which made it feel even more pleasurable.

“Shit, you take my cock so good.” That sentence alone was enough to make her feel on top of the world as she pulled off to catch her breath for a second, a string of spit still connecting her to him as he reached down to swipe it up with his fingers and proceeded to press them to her mouth, making her open up and taste him.

“You taste amazing.” She praised him back, knowing that it’ll give him the confidence boost he needed to really fuck her into the mattress soon.

After her regular breathing was regained, she, once again, dived back onto his pulsing manhood and begun to hollow out her cheeks around him whilst working her tongue around his girth but making sure no teeth were present as she bobbed.

Constant affirmations of pleasure tumbling from his bitten lips only made her move faster before she raised one hand to what she couldn’t fit in and expertly moved it in sync with her mouth.

“Fuck, if yeh keep goin’ like tha’, baby, ‘m gonna cum.” The warning was enough to convince her to pull off of him with a ‘pop’ and sit back onto her knees, looking down at him with a virtuous look on her face but with spit dripping down her chin. “You look sinful, yeh fuckin’ tease.”

She had to bite her lip to hide a subtle smirk and she kissed up his torso before sitting back on his hips, making sure to be just in front of his length so he could rest on her arse as she bent down to give him a passionate, open-mouthed kiss.

His large hands roamed her back as he reciprocated the kiss by pushing his tongue in, meeting hers. An enticing hum was let out as she circled her hips gently, rubbing up against his already throbbing cock. He pulled away only to duck down and start to press his mouth against her neck, beginning to suck bruises into her skin to mark her as his to everyone that looked.

Her tease only further continued as she heard him groan in desperation when she rubbed against a particularly sensitive spot before he decided he couldn’t take it anymore and threw her down onto the bouncy bed as he held himself up with his hands, adjusting to be perfectly slotted in between her legs that locked together around his torso as she ran her fingers through his hair that fell down.

“Harry?…” She spoke up in a soft voice and he could feel her breath on his face by how close they were.

“Mhm?” He reached down to position himself against her clit and began to jut his hips forward and back eliciting a high-pitched squeal.

“F-Fuck me.” She had the wind knocked out of her as soon as he entered her before she could finish her request.

Both parties let out loud moans as they both felt each other in the most intimate way possible. He let her adjust to his size impatiently since it took all of him to not move inside of her. The warm, wet walls of her womanhood drove him crazy and he swore he nearly came undone already when she clenched around him.

“You ready, honey?” He asked shakily, he just wanted to feel every inch of her.

A timid nod came from her a few seconds later signalling her consent and he wasted no time in dragging himself out until just the tip was engulfed before plunging back into her tight hole, encouraging another in-sync moan.

Gradually, he picked up a regular rhythm and fastened his speed as soon as she muttered the words, “faster” and “harder”. The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the air mixed in with their combined moans and groans.

“Yeh feel so good, so deep.” She plucked up the confidence to try her hand at some dirty talk he had never heard from her before but he had to admit, he felt himself twitch at her words.

“God, you’re killin’ me.” He shivered as he picked up his pace.

“Yeah?…” She smirked as she leant up to press her wet lips against his, moaning against them. “Fuck, Harry, don’t stop.”

Every word she said stroked his ego even more and it turned him on to no extent to get praise that he was doing everything she wanted. With a few more hard thrusts, he felt the familiar twist in his stomach.

“You gonna cum for me? You gonna cum for Daddy?” The nickname just slipped from his parted lips as he breathed heavily but it didn’t go unnoticed by her, making her let out an exaggerated moan to let him know.

“Mm, Daddy’s so good t’ me.” She paused to peck his lips once more before arching her back as he brushed against that special spot. “‘M gonna cum. Want yeh t’ cum inside me.” She whispered.

Never had she been so relieved she had decided to take up the pill since she never wanted to stop feeling this level of ecstasy.

Hearing those words whispered so filthily from her cherry red mouth tipped him over the edge as he released hard, surrounded by her squeezing walls, which in turn, caused her to become sensitive and orgasm with him still deep inside of her as they both yelled each other’s names in pleasure.

The only noises that could be heard was their heavy breathing and the parting of lips as they gave each other loving pecks, trying to come down from their highs as he carefully pulled out.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened t’ me, you know?” She rolled onto her side to face the man that collapsed by her side and cuddled up to him, tracing the watch she had given him as a second Valentine’s Day present. In fact, she had the watch that matched. It came as a couple’s collection, what could she say?

“I know, baby girl. ‘N’ I love you very much.” He replied tiredly as he followed her movements on the timepiece.

“I love you too.”

         Though, how was she to know that he told her empty promises and gave her false assumptions?

The watch she had given him? He had unexpectedly dropped the bomb on her that he had supposedly ‘lost’ it one day nonchalantly, as if he didn’t really care, after coming back from one of his never ending nights out.

She still had hers.

She never took it off since she bought them both unless she showered and went to bed.

She always put it back on in the mornings even if she didn’t have plans. She just loved having the strap to remind her of their love when he wasn’t around.

However, whenever they fought, it always seemed to her that he forgot to speak with an underlying tone of adoration like she did since she could never really stay angry at him. Always pinpointing the cons of the situation they were arguing about and making her feel guilty that she even brought it up.

But ever since she packed up and walked away from his hold on her, she figured that the only thing she was genuinely guilty of, was loving him too much. Giving him too much.

She gave him everything she had to offer and during the first few years, she thought it was enough for him to believe she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

It was only when she started to feel her grip on him slipping away from her that she knew she was his second choice. Something that she never wanted to be.


If somebody asks how we died,
Please look them straight in the eye.
Call it, “suicide”.
Don’t fabricate, just tell 'em, babe.
It was suicide.
Don’t sugarcoat it, just let them know.


         The two men stood conversing with each other as they discussed the art that was on display for the event they were invited to. They had been colleagues before; however, they had lost contact after one of them took up a new job opportunity, meeting again after a good year or so and decided to catch up.

The art gallery consisted of the most recent masterpieces from unknown artists around the globe. It was an event organised to give exposure to struggling individuals chasing their dreams and it was people like Harry and his status who were invited to review the artworks and buy them if they were impressed. All the money earnt from these purchases go back to the original artists, which in turn, correlated to more of said artists’ pieces being on display in the future.

The prices they were going for weren’t exactly the cheapest either.

“‘Ey, didn’t your girl wan’ t’ be an artist?” Obviously, the break-up hadn’t reached the likes of Harry’s newfound pal yet and it instantly wiped the smile off of his face.

“Yeah.” A remorseful chuckle was puffed out, “Yeah, she did…”

“Actually, where is she? Yeh should’ve brought her along, yeh idiot, she would’ve loved this! Las’ time I saw yeh both, you couldn’t leave each other alone.” The uninformed man stood next to him gave him a playful nudge and a wink of the eye without noticing the sudden deflation of his friend.

“She, uh… She’s not my girl anymore.” He finally confessed after swirling his drink in his cup as he was pondering whether or not to actually tell the man beside him.

“Oh, shit, H, I didn’t mean t’-…” He began to apologise for being so insensitive but was interrupted by a shake of a curly head.

“‘S all good, don’t worry ‘bout it.” His eyes cast downwards, losing the twinkle in his eyes as he tried to smile genuinely.

“If yeh don’t mind me asking, mate, wha’ happened? You seemed so happy.” A hand was placed on his shoulder roughly as a form of comfort as he sighed heavily.

“It just… Didn’t work out.” A dismissive sip of his beverage came afterwards as the guilt of brushing his four-year relationship off like it was nothing came creeping up on his conscience.

“D’yeh really expect me t’ believe that, Harry?” The questioning tone of the man that clearly didn’t believe his reason for the end of his relationship only made Harry feel even worse about his disregard and internally convinced him to elaborate.

“It was my fault.” He rubbed his hand over his face, he didn’t realise actually talking about it would affect him this much - especially in public. “I, um… God. I cheated on her.”

The recoil of the friendly hand on his shoulder signified the disappointment his friend felt towards him but kept his mouth shut, willing him to continue to explain.

“She was everything I thought I wanted, that I needed. I had no doubt that she was the woman I could spend the rest of my life with.” Harry painfully started to release his pent up feelings ever since she walked away from him the week before. “I still think she is, you know?…”

He trailed his sentence off like he was ashamed to admit his feelings. He felt as if he didn’t even deserve to mention her name, let alone keep thinking about their future together. He pulled himself together, though, he owed her character enough to explain the situation fully and not give people even the faintest idea that it was her that caused the death of their relationship.

“I ruined four years of the happiest times of my life, Nick, for nothing… It was ‘bout five or so months. It lasted for five months. It jus’ happened, I never wanted to jeopardise wha’ her and I had bu’ it was when she was away for one of her work trips.” He felt the water building up behind his eyes, ready to start falling at anytime but he had to get it out. He didn’t care if he was in public or not, it had been eating him alive not being able to talk about it with anyone. “I went t’ the bar her and I always went when we were free. We used t’ talk for hours about jus’ anything. Each other. Our days. Our families. Our future… How much we loved each other…”

He had to quieten his voice at the end otherwise he knew he would’ve burst out into ugly tears. Not like he hadn’t been doing exactly that ever since the front door closed of their shared home. Well. His home. He didn’t even think it was a ‘home’ anymore. She was the one who made it feel like a home to him and when she left, it was just a building in which he slept in every night. With all of her belongings gone after she had come to pick up the rest, catching him in his time of vulnerability when he opened the door where he hoped she would’ve been back in his arms within the hour, it was just a house. There was no warmth left within its walls; only faded memories he tried so hard to block out as he spent his nights with a skimpily-clad woman he didn’t even know the middle name of.

“I met her at that same bar and we jus’ got t’ talking. I told her how lonely I felt with the love of my life away for weeks over a few drinks I bought us. By the time she was running her hand up ‘n’ down my leg, I wasn’t in my senses and jus’ allowed her to. The first time she kissed me the same night, I couldn’t stop her even if I tried - I was so far gone. And I… I enjoyed it. It’d been so long since I actually held someone close, video calls and textin’ can only do so much, y’know? ‘Fore I knew it, I woke up the next morning in someone else’s bed and her naked body beside mine in the exact same state. All of it jus’ spiralled out of my control from there, she never stopped callin’ me for another hook up and I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘no’… I should’ve, I know I should’ve, I had a perfect life with the perfect girl but I guess, for a moment, I wanted something else. Somethin’ new.” He didn’t even attempt to hide his shame as he looked up towards the ceiling to keep the rivers that flowed in his eyes at bay.

“She didn’t even try t’ leave as soon as she found out. She told me she knew at the third month about wha’ I was doin’ and said she stayed t’ try and change my mind.” He brought a closed fist up to his mouth, refusing to break down in such a public place, and already receiving a few judgemental stares from passersby as he struggled to contain his emotions. “God, she tried t’ change my mind…” He weakly let out a breath. “She did ev’rything for me. Her attitude towards me never changed at all, she still loved me with ev’rything she had. The best girl I could’ve ever asked for was all mine and I didn’t even give her a second glance most nights when I climbed into bed with her after I came on another girl’s tits.” His sudden outburst of anger directed at himself brought unwanted attention from the few that surrounded him, earning some disapproving stares and shushes.

“Why don’t yeh call her, H? You’re in bits.” A piece of advice was given to him from Nick who stood silently throughout his whole rant. The reply to it, however, was a mocking laugh as Harry threw his head back.

“Would you forgive me if you were her?” He stared blankly at the artwork in front of him, they must’ve been stood there for 10 minutes at the least.

Once again, silence was the dumbfounded man’s only response to his rhetorical question, and that was all Harry needed to nod to himself as if he finally understood. That he finally let it sink in that his relationship was indefinitely over and there was nothing he could’ve done to make it better.

There was only so many tears he could hold in at that moment before he couldn’t physically keep his wall up and all the emotions came rushing through the floodgates of his distress and trauma.

He had managed to keep himself together for all of the times he had to inform acquaintances of his new relationship status by simply brushing it off and saying exactly what he had told Nick at the beginning. But it had become too much for the secretly heartbroken man finally, and there he was. Sobbing disgustingly into his hand as he tried to cover his cries up to leave at least some of his dignity remaining intact.

He had come to the conclusion that it was never what she had done. It was never what she had said. And it was never what he thought he felt; like he just fell out of love with her. But it was everything to do with the way she still loved him unconditionally after acknowledging his unfaithfulness to her and it made his heart hurt.

By realising this too late, he had to live with himself knowing that he pushed her too far off the edge and that he actually did love her after all.

He still loved her.

But instead of falling asleep to the sight of her radiant face - peaceful as she cuddled into his body, he had to tell everyone that he, himself, killed the best relationship he had ever been in.


He had to call it ‘suicide’.

Stolen Clothes - Peter Parker

Prompt: Reader is afraid of thunder/lightning and there is a freak thunderstorm, and her best friend, Peter Parker, has to comfort her.

Words: 2,499

Warnings: None- fluff mainly.


Bolts of bright light cracked across the dark sky. The constant breakouts of lightning flashes through your thick curtains. Booming of ground shaking thunder shook your dead apartment unevenly. 

You were curled up in your bed eye glued on the TV screen out of fear. The storm knocked out the satellite being the reason you were staring at a frozen screen for the last half an hour. You hid your body from the horrid weather under a mound of warm blankets fresh out of the dryer.

Fuzzy socks covered your feet and a steaming cup of hot chocolate rested untouched on your nightstand. Paralyzed with fear you didn’t dare move a muscle. Even though you hated thunder storms you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the rain pounding against your window. It was like the scene of a car crash, the best thing was to avoid the mess but it was almost impossible to think about anything else.

A loud crash hit your window earning a screeching yelp from yourself. The stray branch from a tree outside blew in the wind knocking the glass continuously. You parents fell asleep in pure bliss to the tempest leaving you to wallow in your lonesome. 

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Terror.

Pure unadulterated terror courses through Alec’s veins the moment the institute lights up with heavenly light.

He books it towards the op centre, running faster than he ever has in his entire life (without the help of a speed rune, anyway) and skitters to a halt at the sight of the dead downworlders that cover the floor.

“No…”

He steps through them gingerly, glancing around as he recognises seelies and werewolves, before looking up at his parabatai; Clary and Simon right behind him.

He barely hears what any of them are saying, too distracted by Jace’s distraught expression, the sudden fear and oh god, where’s Magnus?

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BTS reaction: gf/bf/crush back hugging them while they’re brushing their teeth

ranmin10: BTS reaction when they were brushing there teeth in the morning and there GF decided to back-hug them sleepily and touch there stomach ?i think this shit is SUPER CUUUTTTEEE!!!!!!

Such a cute request *-* Thank you! - admin Evv

Jin

Originally posted by bwiseoks

He wanted to make a surprise for you. Jin left dance practice early. On his way to home, he went to buy flowers and something to eat, all for you. He was happy that, finally, he’ll spend some time with you, alone, without his members, your friends or any other random eyes on you. He quietly opened the door. When he found you sleeping on the couch, he felt disappointed somehow. He was planning all day what he’d cook for you and what you two will be doing this night. But he couldn’t blame you that you fell asleep. He took you into his arms and carried you to your bedroom. A little bit disappointed he went to the bathroom to prepare himself for sleep. The last thing that he had to do was brushing his teeth. Still thinking about you, peacefully sleeping, he looked at the mirror. Your   little body showed in the mirror. Jin was curious as to what you were doing so he just stood there and he was looking at you. When you came and only back hugged him, mumbling something about fairies and unicorns, Jin smiled widely and let you hug him till he’ll finished. It was the cutest thing he ever saw. His little, cute y/n. All his disappointment disappeared and all his love that he has for you fulfilled him inside. This small gesture assured him how he wants to spend rest of his life.

Yoongi

Originally posted by new-message-bts

Their comeback is coming soon so he’s staying up till morning hours, always working on songs. This time he came back to home after 3 am. You were already asleep but you heard when he was closing door, even though he was trying hard to not wake you up, you heard everything. You decided to go to sleep, it was normal for you that he was coming back that late, so why should you care? But his heavy steps made you worried. You stood up and went to the bathroom. Yoongi didn’t notice when you walk in. When you saw his reflection in the mirror, your heart stopped. He looked like a ghost or zombie. Dark circles under his eyes which you didn’t notice earlier. Yoongi was tired, it had already been already 2 weeks that he was preparing everything for their comeback. You were half asleep but you wanted to comfort him so you lumber to him and back hugged Suga. At first he was surprised by your acting but after few seconds he started to be more and more relaxed because of your touch. The only thing that he wanted to do now, was going to the bed, lay down all night and all day with you in his arms. He would turn to you, give you a soft kiss and take your hand into his, walking straight to the bed.

Hoseok

Originally posted by jaayhope

It was a morning like others. Hobi woke up first like always. He knew that you liked to sleep in, so he wouldn’t wake you up. Before getting out of bed, he gave you a peck on the forehead and looked at you, thinking how beautiful you looked sleeping. Finally, when he took his eyes away from you, he went to complete his morning routine. He was happy and already hyped; the weather was nice, birds were singing, this day seemed to be great, and the most important thing: he woke up next to the person that he loves, which made his day perfect. Brushing teeth is boring. Hobi was dancing and trying to enjoy this activity. Then he felt someones hands playing with his shirt and his stomach. Similar touch made him laugh from happiness. He turned to you and gave you the most beautiful of his smiles. He made you lean back against the wall next to the washbasin. You didn’t know what was happening, you just woke up and you weren’t in contact with the world yet, so you didn’t pay too much attention on what your bf was doing. Hobi took your toothbrush and asked you to open your mouth. When you opened your mouth without hesitation, he laughed again how cute you looked when you were still half asleep. He put the toothbrush into your mouth and started to brush your teeth for his own. He was enjoying it to much, tbh but he didn’t want to hurt you so his moves would be really soft, he would treat you like a porcelain doll which can break after one bad move.

Namjoon

Originally posted by forjimin

It was a very special day. Your 5th anniversary. You started dating before his debut. This relationship was going really good. You understood each other like no one else. You could talk about everything, laugh together and cry together.
You two set up to meet in your favourite place, the park where you first met each other. But you had different plans. You called Namjoon to wake him up and say some cute words but the truth was that you were already outside his dorm. Jin let you in their dorm, he took all of the boys to leave you and Joonie alone.
You were listening to every his move because you didn’t want to him to find out that you were there. Breakfast was already prepared by Jin, you only had to prepare roses, candles and all romantic things that came to your mind. Namjoon wanted to look perfect this day (like he doesn’t look like this every second). It took him awhile to prepare himself. Clothes, hair, jewellery, a gift for you. You were already tired of waiting so you went to look for what he was doing. Namjoon was in front of the mirror practising weird speeches. You didn’t know what the speech was about, but you randomly came up to hug him and said “yes” like he was proposing to you. He looked at your reflection in the mirror, smiling and showing him dimples. Namjoon wanted to act angry at you, that you came into bathroom without any permission, but he failed; he was just too happy and excited for today.
Nj: Can I brush my teeth now?
Yn: Yeeees - you said in the most cute way you could. Namjoon started to laugh because of your cuteness. You were so adorable.
Nj: so, would you let me go?
Yn: of course not, I won’t let you go. I want to stay like this forever.
He didn’t mind it. He liked the feeling of your touch on his skin. This anniversary would be special, he knew this

Jimin

Originally posted by morekpopmore

You were spending holidays in his parents house in Busan. His family loved you. They saw how much in love you two were and how much support you were giving him. His mother already treated you like her daughter-in-law. You were happy that they accepted you, same with Jimin.                                                  It was your first morning here. You woke up first but you were too busy looking at Jimin and playing with his hair to get out of bed. He woke up, looked at you and quietly said “good morning” and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Finally Jimin stood up first. You were bored alone so you decided to go with him. Feeling your hands massaging his abs and your breath at his neck, he felt himself melt inside. Love filled all regions of his body. He gave you the sweetest smile that you ever saw from him. When he finished, he did the same thing with you. He just back hugged you, playing with your shirt and kissing your head. Jimin was really glad that he had someone like you by his side. Just small gestures you are making, smiles or words, were giving him much happiness. This moment didn’t last for too long. Because how long can someone be washing themselves for? Jimin told you to come back to bed. He went to the kitchen and prepared the best breakfast that he was able to make. He tried his best for you. He brought breakfast to you and you two ate in the bed. You were planning your time in Busan and even your future.

Taehyung

Originally posted by kimthwriter

You two weren’t a couple, actually you two were friends, really close friends. You acted like a couple, but no one took the  first step to ask the other one out. You were scared to dating a famous idol, and Tae didn’t want to destroy your friendship.
It was the first time for you to stay over for a night in his dorm. You had a lot of fun. Playing games, watching movies, shopping online and gossiping about everything and everyone. This was perfect. You fell asleep next to Tae and he didn’t mind, so he just laid next to you and went to sleep too. He woke up first. Your face was snuggled in his neck and his hand was around your waist. He spent  a few minutes looking at you, but he needed to solve his physiological problem, so he quickly stood up and went to the bathroom.
You noticed it when he left your side, but you didn’t say anything. After a few minutes you felt alone; you felt so good, safe and loved in his arms, you wanted to feel like this again. So without thinking, you went to the bathroom where Tae was. He was in front of the mirror, all smiley and happy, like never before. He was there only with his body, his minds was in a different place. He was remembering last night; your smile, your laughter, your face when you were focused at the game. He got a little bit scared when you back hugged him. He felt like the luckiest boy in the world. You told him that you wanted to cuddle with him because you felt good in his arms. Tae’s heart pounded like crazy. It was the first time he didn’t know what to say. He felt good in your arms too, and he didn’t want to be only a friend for you. He turned to you and hugged you tightly. He said “I love you” in the deepest voice, straight to your ear. This quick back hug just ended your friendship and started something new, something filled with love, care and a lot of cuddles.

Jungkook   

Originally posted by babybun19

You two spend all night watching movies, playing games and just enjoying being together. You were awake till 4am. Maybe you would stay even longer but Omma Jin told you to go to sleep. The boys had a free day so you could spend all day together and sleep for how long you wanted.
It was 2 pm and Jungkook woke up. All of the members already left the dorm to enjoy their free day. Jungkook wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t wake you up. You refused to get out of bed, so he decided to kick you out of there later. He woke up in a very good mood. He was singing, dancing and enjoying his bathroom routine (this sounds so weird). Jungkookie sang your favourite song which was “Butterfly”. When you heard his beautiful voice, you wanted to hear it more clearly. You went to the place where your bf was. He saw you; he just smiled and continued to singing with the toothbrush in his mouth. You came and hugged him from behind. It make him feel happy. Jungkook felt loved and he realized how much he loved you. It was only a hug and it made him the happiest person in the world. He was still singing, he took your hand, slowly pulling you to stand in front of him. You closed your eyes, enjoying his voice. He lifted you up, put you on the washbasin. His voice started to be more and more quiet. Suddenly he kissed you. It was a soft and mature kiss. After the kiss, you two just stared at each other. Words weren’t needed. Both of you knew what the other thought and felt.

A Better Word

They say the Fair Folk give journalism majors a lot of grief.

Truths exposed in writing, forms cemented in photographs, stories stripped of flowery prose in favor of concise words. The Fair Folk generally looked down on journalism itself with disdain.

Which made one wonder who would choose to pursue this particular academic career at Elsewhere University.

Some reporters argue learning among the harshest critics on Earth would leave them more than prepared for life beyond the University. Some photographers believe this is the only place on earth to capture something truly extraordinary. Some designers heard even the programs here behave differently, and the words and photos laid out on a screen became something more on paper. Some simply hadn’t known any better.

Bernadette hadn’t known any better.

Elsewhere was affordable, the journalism program seemed decent enough. She liked writing, but did not enjoy chasing victims of the Fair Folk people down for interviews. She liked photography, but knew her writing skills were stronger. So she fell in an unlikely place, a copy editor for the student newspaper. Well, one of. There were many papers, and she’d nearly joined the most prominent one. But the students who worked for it all shared the same bright green eyes, and the rest of the University seemed to avoid that paper like the plague.

Still, she needed experience to graduate in this field, right? Maybe they got a group discount on colored contacts, who knows. People in college are weird like that.

An upperclassman had saved her from venturing too close to THAT paper. He realized she had no salt, no iron, no idea what she had enrolled into. But, like finding her niche, she adapted. Survived her first year without tragedy. (The same could not be said for Sherry from across the hall. One of the Fair Folk had complimented her eyes, and asked if she could have them. Sherry, who hadn’t known any better, jokingly said sure. It’s been months since anyone’s seen Sherry.)

For the most part, the Fair Folk did not venture close to the newsroom. The room itself had been smartly moved the moment time began to behave differently. It was now just a cramped, previously vacant classroom, but with lots of windows. Access to the outside world seemed to weaken the chance of a space being manipulated by time. 

Or maybe that was a comforting lie.

It was a lazy Saturday, salt lines had been neglected and Bernadette was alone when one of the Fair Folk waltzed inside. Silver nitrate burns on her hands betrayed him immediately. His hair was was a dark, voracious black that seemed to leach color from the world around it. His razor-sharp smile held too many teeth. His skin seemed almost translucent.

      “What are you working on?”

A voice that seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere. Bernadette hadn’t given him more than a cursory glance before returning to the story on the screen. If she was afraid, she didn’t show it.

      “Editing a story.”

      “Chopping up pretty words in favor of boring ones?”

She smirked, adding punctuation to a sentence.

“I like to think of it as finding the best words. No sense in having a bunch of empty, meandering words when you can sum them up with one. For instance, I hate the word ‘very.’ It tells me there’s a better word, but the author hasn’t thought of it.”

The boy hummed at this, an unnerving sound, mulling it over.

      “So what if I told you I find this very boring?”

      “I’d say I’m sorry you find it dull.” 

His head tilted with mild interest. It then turned to sniff at her messenger bag, disgust showing at his inability to open it. She had always been particularly careful about her sigils and rowan. Bernadette hadn’t missed this display, tugging the bag out of arm’s reach before slipping a hand inside. Wordlessly, the boy was handed two sealed pads of butter. It was always good to have butter or cream on hand, in case you were taken. Some Fae found stealing humans more fun than actually keeping them and, in such a case, freedom could be easily bought. 

The boy grinned, ripping off the seals and lapping it up like a ravenous dog, teeth razor sharp and dripping. All the while, Bernadette kept editing the story. When every last molecule of butter was gone, he tossed the packs over his shoulder, turning full attention back to her.

      “What if I said I’m very tired?”

      “Exhausted.”

      “Very hungry.”

      “Starving.”

      “Very happy.”

      “Overjoyed.”

      “Very pretty.”

      “Beautiful.”

The boy threw his head back and laughed, sounding like a chorus of the damned, far too many sharpened teeth glinting in the afternoon sun.

      “Perhaps this isn’t so dull. What’s your name?”

      “Timmy,” Bernadette answered without skipping a beat. His grin widened.

      “No, it’s not. I bet Timmy is that reporter you don’t like. You’d be very mean to give me his name.”

She grinned in return, not at all fazed he knew there was someone here she loathed. The Fair Folk always knew something about something.

       “I can be devious sometimes.”

He laughed even harder, the room seeming to shake with the thunderous sound.

      “What did Timmy do?”

She scowled.

      “He’s a narcissist and a douchebag. Timmy encouraged one of our first-year photographers to capture Genevieve on camera for his story, and we haven’t seen the photographer since.”

The boy whistled, every gap of razor teeth producing a different tone. Her days of playing clarinet had long since passed, but she could have sworn every tone was sharp.

      “Genevieve does not like cameras. But she loves names. Perhaps a trade…”


Four days later, Timmy vanished, and Bernadette opened her dorm room to find the photographer on her futon, paper white and shoveling ramen noodles like he hadn't​ eaten for week. Knowing how obscure time can be in Elsewhere, it definitely could have been a week. His hair now turns green on Tuesdays and bank holidays, but he’s otherwise no worse for wear. And his hands are always burned. Always.

Every once in a while, when the salt lines are neglected, the boy with many voices returns. He has new phrases for her to deconstruct every time.

x

Gold Digger

Reader x Elijah Mikaelson

(NOT MY GIF)

*requested

Imagine: You are in a long-term relationship with Elijah Mikaelson and is very happy with it. One day, when he requests you to go over to his house to meet oficially his siblings, Hayley accuses you to being with him only for his money and power, which leaves you heartbroken.

tagging: @chocolatemonkeyrainbows :)

Word Count: 3172


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Guy What Takes His Time*

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Featuring: Natasha, Wanda, Sharon (mentioned) and Sam.
Rating: Mature
Summary: Wanda, Natasha and Sam think Steve has feelings for Reader, but she tells them otherwise while actually feeling the same way for the super soldier. One evening,  they all make a plan to make both of them confess the truth.
Word Count: 2.2k
Genre: Fluff/NSFW-ish
Warnings: build-up, suggestive themes, and innuendos, mentions of alcohol, sexual tension, a little bit of roleplay, flirting, Captain kink (?) and Steve being a cute flustered bastard.
Author's Note: It’s a rewrite of the flirty scene between Natasha and Bruce in Avengers: Age of Ultron (you can expect some references, though). I thought it could be fun to switch sides with Steve and see how it goes. It’s also inspired by Guy What Takes His Time covered by Christina Aguilera in Burlesque.

  New Avengers Facility, Upstate New  York

“You did a great job, Y/N,” Steve announced in his deep voice as he passed the hallway with you, Natasha, and Wanda. “Ladies.” He stopped in his tracks, standing with this impressive physique, almost towering in front of you as his hands held the brown belt of his- oh, so sexy uniform.

“Thank you, Captain.” You smiled and he nodded slowly as if questioning whether he would stay to have a chat with you or not. He smiled gently and proceeded to take the stairs towards his personal quarters where he’d finally take a well-deserved shower after a hard, but successful mission with you and Sam.

Of course, he would’ve loved to linger awhile and see your smile just a little longer. He enjoyed spending time with you and the feeling was mutual. Maybe that after all these days spent with him, these missions where you saved each other, being partners and all this harmless flirting, there was something between you. Your chemistry was obvious to everyone after all.

“Have you seen the way he looks at you?” Wanda nudged your side and you winced, narrowing your eyes. “Don’t be silly, Steve likes you a lot.”

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