car ring

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Happy Birthday, Sophie Hunter! (March 16 1978)

Destruction Of A Muse (M) [Final]

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3] - [Part 4]

Words: 8.418

The harsh slap of your phone dropping to your thigh was what pulled you back into the present, your stomach churning and clenching, your ribs feeling as though they were closing in on your lungs, caging them and preventing any air from getting in. You could hear the barely-there muffle of Tae’s voice, screaming at you to answer him, and it took all the willpower you had to pick up the phone once more and bring it to your ear, hand trembling.

“Y/N, please fucking answer me, I’m losing my fucking mind!” He wailed, his deep voice pitched and terrified.

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anonymous asked:

Request of Harry and y/n after dating for years hooking up in a car and getting caught by paps after they have sex and him getting dressed and going off on them because Y/n was nervous in the first place to do anything with him in public. Lots of daddy *dirty kind Harry and protective Harry. Long hair. Rings on. I'm trying to make this make sense. >.<

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST THIS OR ANY WRITING.

This is set in the Lemon Curd verse, but it’s pretty fungible! And it really leans on the daddy!kink with the sex in the car part of this rather than the paps part, but… I think it works? Happy reading. x

Gentle Reminder: requests are closed and new requests will be posted immediately and catalogued! 

055. Leather and Cars

“We should go out.”

Your smile stretches almost lazily over your face as Harry licks softly over your neck. Your head lolls to the side and his hand offers a cradle for it to lean against as he eagerly attaches his mouth to the new expanse of skin that he’s allowed to access.

You smell like a bakery, he’s sure of it. You can’t possibly as you haven’t worked there in ages, but he thinks the smell has managed to cling to you in a way it hasn’t to him. You smell like warm bread and hot coffee and those lemon curds that the two of you had been fond of sharing together and that he still brings home sometime for you two to indulge in when he thinks of it.

“Why?” you ask him with a fluttering breath.

“Done with your first year, aren’t yeh?” he murmurs.

“I am,” you agree. Harry’s arm is wound around your waist and you cover it with yours, digging into his skin with your fingertips.

“An’ correct me if I’m wrong, pet,” he starts. “But do you live here now?” he says of his home that is just a little more crowded with the two of you and your things that have been slowly finding their way in amongst his.

It’s been “official” for a month now, but Harry has spent the better part of that being out of your hair while you revised.

“Do I?” you ask and Harry frowns instantly before opening his mouth and biting with gentle warning. You squirm out of the hold of his jaws.

“We should go out,” he repeats.

“I don’t know that we should,” you reply.

“What?” he asks with pinching brows. “Why not?”

“Because something always happens,” you say.

“Like what?”

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