Started as a side profile portrait (man, I love his profile) then a body came along, and after a discussion with @kittyboo8015 about moobs, somehow nipple piercings and a tattoo popped up. We don’t know how it happened.
Trying some lighting effects out here. Tattoo directly referenced and modified.
Warnings:NSFW 18+ Smut! Sexual penetration, oral (male and female receiving), face sitting, dirty talk, language, drinking, Bucky being everyone’s wet dream…
A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, but I worked HARD on this one and I’m totally proud of it! (and before anyone asks, Howl at the Moon is a real bar in Indiana!) Enjoy. :)
You stood in the street and looked up at the new sign that was being hung up in front of the building.
Howl at the Moon
Your pride and joy. You smiled with a shake of your head. This bar had just started out a little hole in wall. Nobody knew about it, and you were barely making ends meet with only 2 people on staff.
Now, it was a world-renowned biker bar. People from all over the globe have stopped in. You have worked hard to make it what it is. The many roaring engines from motorcycles and loud laughter rule this spot.
It kept your life interesting.
The alcohol stays flowing all night long and the grill stays hot. Your most popular item on the menu? Beer served in buckets. You would be surprised at how many buckets these burly bikers can put away.
Sing-a-longs, dance-offs and dirty humor keep your patrons coming back for more. Your lady bartenders have been known to jump on the bar to dance to some old rock n’ roll. Yourself included.
Ashley, your best friend, came up beside you and looked at the sign as well. “It looks fantastic.”
You poked her with your elbow, “Well I would hope you think so, you drew up the concept.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head, “I’m a genius.”
You looked up at the black wolf, nose pointed up at a blue moon with a howl. It was really going to stand out at night when it was all lit up.
As I was looking through my requests, I pulled this song up on Spotify and I immediately smiled listening to it. This is one of those songs that, if you are a sucker for romance, have a tissue ready just in case…it’s that good. I felt my throat tightening and eyes about to water, and it has to be special to do that to me. My story isn’t the sweet tearjerker this song can be, but please make sure you hear this song if you haven’t.
I absolutely love this! “The Girl” by City and Colour. If you would like to listen, you can find this song on my Spotify playlist ‘I Love You Long Time’, HERE. Just make sure to listen to the entire song (lyrics repeated), as the second half increases the tempo and it is so good!
Thank you, Anon!
I wish I could do better by you,
‘cause that’s what you deserve
You sacrifice so much of your life
In order for this to work.
“My first flight leaves at 3 in the morning, then I connect at 7:30, and should be to you by…looks like 5:30, 11:30 your time…sooo…provided my taxi driver isn’t crazy, I should be at the hotel by midnight,” you explain to Harry over the phone. “Would you rather I get a room so I don’t wake you?” you tease. “Or I can sleep on the sofa.”
“Not funny,” he laughs. “Get your ass here! I miss you!” You giggle as you talk to him while packing your bags. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Why am I amazing?” you ask, not understanding. Booking flights isn’t rocket science, after all.
“Doing all that just to come spend some time with me,” he says, shaking his head. “Just because I was complaining about missing you. You’re amazing to me.”
“And you’re sweet to me,” you gush. “And I love you, and you’re all that matters to me.”
“I love you, too,” he answers.
While I’m off chasing my own dreams
Sailing around the world
Please know that I’m yours to keep
My beautiful girl
Harry was nervous when your flight arrived and you weren’t on it. He had gone to the airport to surprise you by picking you up, but when you weren’t there, he panicked and begged the counter agent to find out what had happened. The voice on the recording when he tried calling you told him the number he had reached was unavailable.
“Please, have you found out anything?” he asked the airline agent.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Styles,” they repeated politely. “We see that the flight was delayed. Some of the passengers were placed on other flights while some were left to wait it out until another flight is available. Terrible storm there today.”
“Thank you,” he sighed heavily, nodding nervously. Not knowing where you were, or if you were okay, was a horrible feeling. The two of you had been together for awhile now, and fans and paps everywhere knew who you were. It was two more hours before Harry’s phone received a text from your number.
‘Finally here, different gate, had no mobile service, long story. Exhausted. On my way as soon as I find a taxi. Love you.’
Harry immediately dials your number and breathes loudly when he hears your voice.
“Harry? I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” you ask.
“No, baby, I’m here, at the airport. Where’s your gate?”
Harry smiled, finally seeing your tired but beautiful face in front of him, and held you for a long moment, squeezing you so tightly you could have popped.
“Been a long day for both of us, love,” Harry says, kissing your face. “Let’s go.”
When you cry a piece of my heart dies
Knowing that I may have been the cause
If you were to leave
Fulfill someone else’s dreams
I think I might totally be lost
You were so proud of Harry. He was an amazing performer, only one of many talents. But you never tired of watching him on stage. You wiped a tear from your eye as you watched him blowing kisses to the cheering audience and offering a bow of thanks to them, before walking off stage, waving as he disappeared behind a curtain.
You managed to make your way through the back of the crowd of the small venue, only being detained a handful of times by fans of his telling you hi. As you found your way back to where the crew was, you looked around and saw Harry wiping sweat from his face with a towel, then smiling those dimples you could swim in.
You walked to him as he met you halfway, wrapping his arms around you, then pulling away.
“Oh, sorry, babe. I’m disgusting with sweat,” he says, as you grab him and pull him against you tightly.
“I don’t mind,” you say, cuddling against him as you feel his lips press against your head. “You did so well, Harry. Just busting with pride.”
Harry smiled, loving to hear praise, but especially from you. It made it a little more worth the miserable times you spent apart.
Once back at the hotel, you waited while Harry showered and changed and prepared for the next morning’s flight, knowing that your time with him was approaching its end. As you got ready for bed, Harry heard you sniff in the washroom and peaked in, seeing you wiping your eyes with a tissue. He walked to you, seeing your red, slightly-puffy eyes in the mirror and wrapped his arms around you, knowing why you were upset.
“I don’t want you to go, either, love,” he says, flowering kisses along your cheekbone.
“Went by too quickly,” you sniff, another tear leaving your eye.
“It did, yeah,” he says softly into your ear.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I swore I wasn’t going to cry.”
You hear Harry sniff and look at him, giggling at him wiping his tears from his face and laughing at himself.
“We’ll cry together,” he says, loving on you as long as you’ll let him.
Both of you walk back into the bedroom and climb into bed, holding each other with sweet kisses and touches. As his kisses become more intimate, his hands wandering more stealthily, he kisses your neck as his mind begins thinking about you leaving. He stops kissing you and looks into your face, his hand on the side of your head, thumb caressing your cheek lightly, and staring as if he has something to say.
“What is it?” you ask.
Harry grins slightly then kisses your lips softly. “Nothing, love.”
At the airport the next morning, Harry ushers you to a corner out of sight from most, so the two of you can have a moment of privacy before the first flight leaves. Your back to the corner, Harry’s arms around you, speaking into your ear quietly and leaving loving kisses to your face, he pulls back again and you notice the same look on his face.
“Love,” he says quietly. “I want to ask you a favor.”
“Anything,” you say with a teary smile.
“You never ask for anything,” he says, caressing your hair. “Never ask me to buy you things, or take you places. You’re always content just to be with me.”
“Well, yeah, of course,” you say, a little confused and not sure where this is leading.
“But I want to ask you for something,” he starts. “Come with me,” he says sweetly. “I don’t want us to be apart anymore. Please, come with me.”
You look at him surprised. You had traveled with him before, but it was always meeting him somewhere for a short holiday.
“Quit your job,” he pleads. “Not necessary, is it? And you don’t really like it much anyway. Want us to be together. Want to take care of you. Want you with me wherever I am. Please say you will.”
You lose another tear down your cheek, touched that he felt so strongly about wanting you with him.
“Okay,” you say with a smile. “Okay. Thank you.”
He kisses you softly, rubbing his nose against yours and holding your face to his.
“My beautiful girl…”
You don’t ask for no diamond rings no delicate string of pearls
“Consider anything only don’t cry …”
The female Scorpio has a deep, mysterious beauty. She’s magnetic, proud and totally confident. But she has one secret regret. She was not born a man.
I can almost feel the heat from here when Pluto women hear about that revelation. There’s not a Scorpio female alive who doesn’t think she’s all woman, and you may wonder what I’m talking about yourself, if you’re in love with one. This girl certainly has enough glamour, and she’s enormously seductive. But I didn’t say she looked like a boy, nor did I intend to imply she doesn’t do a bang-up job of being a female. It’s just that, unconsciously, she would prefer to be a man. Less restriction-more opportunity. It’s the one secret she even hides from herself, and seeing it exposed won’t sit well with her.
Once the Scorpio girl has figured out the difference between blue booties and pink booties, she’ll resign herself to wearing the pink ones, because she’s fabulous at making the best out of a situation. But pink is not her natural color. The true shade of her nature is dark maroon, or deep wine-red, not a female color at all. However, to give her proper tribute, she’s able to make you think it is. I know one who’s great at pretending to be a fragile, fluffy kitten. She purrs so contentedly most men guess she’s an ultra-feminine Piscean. They topple into her trap and wake up later, sadder but wiser. She is no kitten.