This series in its entirety is dedicated to @alrightpetal because without her, there would be no vulnerable, flawed Harry.
Thank you to all who have enjoyed and provided me with your thoughts. I hope this lives up to your expectations.
The earth’s actually flat and Harry must have fallen off of it. He was quite clumsy—you had scars from the countless occasions he couldn’t navigate around his own feet and brought you down with him—so him managing to fall off the edge of the earth wasn’t a stretch of the imagination.
At least he better be floating through deep space, otherwise there was no reason your texts and calls should have gone unanswered the last three days. No other reason you would accept, anyway.
When you’d woken up, brain foggy and mouth dry, you couldn’t remember how you’d gotten home, let alone anything that had actually happened. It wasn’t until you reached for your phone—after growing accustomed the dull ache in your skull—and saw the Bukowski poem that you remembered what happened. And you’d laid in bed for a while, trying to figure out how to move forward. Should you text Harry? Call him? Read into the fact that his last poem was much less explicit than the previous and maybe it meant he was trying to tell you something?
sorry it’s short but it’s pretty much all smut, so.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and climb atop his lap, your mouths instantly connecting in a bruising kiss. His hands kneed at your ass and you drop your hips to grind against him, your wetness making the slide that much easier. He groans. “Fuck, Y/n,” he chokes out.
You feel his thick cock slipping in between your folds in a steady rhythm, but having him there so, so close to where you want him is torturous, and your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder to keep your self-control strong. His panting in your ear is making you hot, hot, hot and you don’t know how much longer you can take it.
I’m a person who likes to be honest and candid. I dont want to have to watch my mouth around you. But over the years I’ve learned 1) not everyone can handle the truth, 2) the way I’ve said some things was too blunt, 3) not everything needs to be said or commented on. I feel like I’ve reeled myself in over the years. I leave my most candid thoughts for like 2-3 ppl in my life who understand my intention behind them. A good amount of the time its just an observation but I guess an observation that some people would rather not hear.
Other times I’m just talking shit and want somebody with my same sense of humor to get it lmao
This was requested by an Anon! I chose incorporate something a close friend showed me. You can always google the Black Forest. It’s beautiful! I hope you all enjoy this! <3 <3
Word count: 308
(gifs is not mine)
When Gabriel told you he had a surprise for you, you were suspicious of the archangel. He normally played pranks on you when he said he had something planned. You held his hands, which were over your eyes. He said it would be better if you didn’t know where you were going.
Gabriel took his hands away from your eyes, letting them adjust to their new surrounding. As you looked around, you mouth simply dropped open. Crimson leaves covered the terrain around you like a blanket, covering the ground. There wasn’t much black asphalt exposed on the path before you. Mostly naked trees bordered the path as if it were a fence to the actual forest. The fresh crisp air almost took you by surprise.
One of Gabriel’s wings wrapped around your body, making sure you weren’t cold. “Do you know where we are [Y/N],” Gabriel asked, a small smirk on his lips. You shook your head, glancing over at the archangel. Any words that you tried to say would get caught in your throat. “We’re in Germany, and this is the Black forest.”
It was a rainy day. When you’d look out of the window, you could barely see outside due to all the fog surrounding the city. You were resting your head up against Joshua’s chest, wiggling your lollipop in your mouth as you sucked on it.
Joshua had come home with a bunch of sweeties of all kind and you both had eaten quite a lot of them, the lollipop being your last choice. Joshua was brushing through your hair with his hand absentmindedly while watching something from the tv. “What flavour is your lollipop?” He asked out of the blue.
You pulled the lollipop out of your mouth and looked at it, thinking if you should let him taste it but you got a better idea. You smirked, although Joshua didn’t notice at first. You turned your body to face him. “You’ll find out,” you said before leaning in and kissing him on the lips.
He was surprised, but melted into the kiss shortly, opening his mouth to let your tongue in. You explored his mouth, tasting the sweetness in his mouth as well.
After a few moments, you pulled back to see his smiling face. “Very tasty,” he remarked and licked his lips. “I know right,” you answered with a giggle and leaned back into his arms again. He hugged you closer this time, gently rubbing his fingers up and down her sides.
He nuzzled his head against the back of your neck, tickling you more than you had expected. You swatted him away, laughing because of the tickling sensation.
You stayed like this for a while, talking about random things, until you both got so sleepy you decided it was time to go to bed.
So maybe this is what they mean when they say that opposites attract. Or maybe we’re not all that different. See, I’m all about color. I feel the most alive with a paintbrush in my hand, playing around with different hues and intensities. You, on the other hand, aren’t really fond of things like that. You prefer to be clad in black. The closest I get to color with you is when you open your mouth and try to show the emotions you can’t really find the words for, but my gosh, when you do I see colors I never knew imagined. There’s something about the way you come alive when you let go. When you open up, you become the painter, I’m the canvas, and your tongue is the brush. Perhaps you aren’t so colorless after all.
Maxwell Diawuoh, Request: A poem about a girl who lives to paint colorful scenes, falling in love with a colorless guy (he literally never wears color and it’s difficult to express his emotions but when he does it’s like the world was set on fire and he controls the flames)
Drabble + Mark Lee + Face masks = the Pride of My Life
you sure this is a good idea?” Mark asked.
hummed, continuing to apply the homemade mask to his face. It was light green
from mashed avocado and speckled with little brown flakes because of the
cinnamon sprinkled in. Mark, groaned, complaining about how cold it was.
“Yes, I’m sure this is a good idea.
This will help with your skin, remember? Cinnamon helps with acne.”
“And the Avocado?
“It has good things in it like
minerals and moisture. Your skin will feel nice and soft after, I promise.”
“Huh,” Mark mused. He stuck his tongue
out and licked a bit off the side of his mouth when you looked away, scraping
up the last bit of the mixture. He coughed, immediately regretting his poor
“Holy crap- that tastes awful!”
“Why did you eat it?” You laughed, “Mark!”
“I don’t know! I assumed it would
be that bad, it’s just avocado-”
Mark licked his lips, “You know, the
after-taste isn’t so bad.”
“Oh, really?” Mark scooted across
the floor towards you, “Come’er, give me a kiss.”
“I’m afraid my response is hell no,”
he grabbed you and pecked your lips anyway, getting his mask all over your own
face. You squeaked, struggling to get away from your green-faced boyfriend as
he cackled at your reaction.
Request: Anything with Jimmy Howard, maybe celebrating after a good game or something? or whatever you like he’s just my fave
Everyone in the Joe was holding their breathe. The game against the St. Louis Blues had gone past regulation time, into over time, and, finally, into the shoot out. To say you were nervous was an understatement.
“Come on Jimmy,” you whispered. You sat forward in your seat, hands clasped by your mouth as you stared at the ice.
First up for the blues was Tarasenko. Jimmy watched him like a hawk and was able to make the save. For the WIngs, Zetterberg. You groaned with the rest of the crowd as his shot was batted away. For the Blues, Steen. You held your breath as you waited for Jimmy to make the save and cheered when he did. Just one more to go. Larkin was up next for the Wings, but he shot to wide and it hit the goal post.
Finally for the Blues, Parayko. The kid was fast as he streamed down the ice. Jimmy was faster and easily batted the puck away.
“Yes!” You screamed, jumping up. Now if only Abdelkader could net it, the game would be the Wings’. “Let’s go Abby!” You cheered.
The Joe was almost dead silent as the left wing skated towards the net. He was almost there, the puck was sliding, moving forward, AND IN. The Red Wings had just won the one game they needed to clinch a playoff spot.
“Yes boys!” You yelled, not being able to contain your excitement. You looked towards the ice to see your boyfriend’s mask up and his eyes smiling at you. You jumped up and downing, giving me a thumbs up before the rest of the team tackled him.
You joined the rest of the crowd slowly making their way out of the stadium. You knew the media and a shower would take a lot of Jimmy’s time and you’d have to wait anyway. You showed your pass by the tunnel and walked towards the waiting room, saying hi and engaging in excited talk about the win.
A short, or not really, 45 minutes later, the tall frame of your boyfriend appeared in front of you. “We did it!” He exclaimed, pulling you up and into a hug.
“I’m so proud of you,” you responded. You leaned up to his ear, “it was really all you, but don’t tell anyone else I said that.”
Jimmy laughed as he pulled away and took your hand. “I’m starving. How do you feel about waffles?”
“As if you ever want to go anywhere else,” you nudged.
“Waffles are our thing,” Jimmy shrugged, leading you towards his car.
“Good thing I like carbs,” you laughed as he pulled out of the parking lot.
The Waffle House five minutes from your apartment was a place you visited frequently. So frequently, in fact, that they knew your order by heart.
“My favorite couple!” Kaylee, the hostess laughed. “Your booth is open.” She nodded in the direction of your favorite table, the one you guys had sat at on your accidental first date and the one you always picked now, as long as it was available.
You slid in on your side and Jimmy on his. “So playoffs?” He smiled at you.
“I better have a ticket to every single one of your games,” you pointed at him.
“Aw, you don’t have to come to all of them,” he waved you off.
“Yes I do! I’d be a bad girlfriend if I didn’t,” you said, only slightly joking.
“You’ve supported me every step of the way so far, you don’t need to leave work and stuff here to come see us.”
“Too bad, so sad,” you chirped.
“Hey we go,” Kaylee, set your drinks down in front of you. “Food will be up soon.” She walked away.
“Oh shoot,” Jimmy said, shooting up. “I forgot I wanted to add something to my order. Be back in a sec.” He had already moved towards Kaylee before you could interject. In the three years the two of you had been dating, he had never once gotten anything different.
“You get into the playoffs and now your ordering something different?” You questioned as he sat down. “What did Parayko’s shot hit you too hard?”
“No, I just wanted to try something new,” he smiled lightly.
“Yeah okay,” you joked back.
“Okay the usual, coming in,”Kaylee laughed as she set your plates in front of you. “Let me know if you guys need anything.” She smiled at you and winked at Jimmy before she walked away.
“So about these tickets. I’m serious, I want to come to everyone of your games I don’t care where or when or-or…,” your voice cut out as you looked down at your waffle. It was your normal chocolate chip waffle except sitting in the middle on top of a pile of whipped cream was a beautiful diamond ring.
You whipped your head up to look at Jimmy, but he wasn’t in front of you anymore. He was on the floor at your side. On one knee.
“There’s a million ways I could have done this, but this just feels the most us. (Y/N), I’ve been in love with you since day one and you’ve supported me along every step of the way and I sure hope I’ve supported you just as much. Hearing you talk about not wanting to miss any of the playoffs made me realize how I don’t want to miss one day of you in my life. And I don’t want to spend another day without knowing you’ll be my wife. So, (Y/N), will you marry me?”
“Of, of course,” you stuttered, the tears leaking out of your eyes. Jimmy slid into the booth with you, wrapping his arms around you. He let go enough to grab the ring and wipe it off on a napkin before sliding it onto your finger.
“Don’t worry about the playoffs, you’ll have tickets to every single game,” he smiled, kissing your nose. “Love you.”
“Love you more,” you smiled, kissing him fully.
“All I’m saying is I better be at that wedding,” Kaylee grinned, bringing you two more to drink.
“After putting up with us all these years,” Jimmy laughed.
“You can have a front row seat,’ You finished.
Jimmy was right, this moment was just so perfectly the two of you that you couldn’t have asked for anything better.
1940s!Bucky Barnes comforting you when you can’t sleep.
••• Requested by Anon •••
The paralyzing hurt spread through your body like cool liquid metal. Your fists clenched as you hesitantly threw the sheets off of your body. You noticed your legs trembling as you took steps across the small bedroom, threatening to completely crumble beneath you as you approached the window.
Pulling the curtains away a touch, you peered at the street below. It was empty, but the street lights still shone through, illuminating your face. As you starred outside, you thought of the day to come. How you’d have to travel to the train station in the early hours of the morning and wave off your sweetheart, who was to begin his training as a soldier.
Tears swelled in your eyes, blurring your vision. Clasping a hand over your mouth, you let them spill over and roll down your cheeks. You tried to take hold of your hysterical sobbing, but the pain came out like an uproar from your throat, in the form of a silent scream. The pearl-shaped tears fell, one after the other with no sign of stopping. Collapsing into the armchair by the window, you let the curtains fall back in place as the salty tears kept coming.
A unflattering hiccup came from you as you lifted your head from your hands to face Bucky Barnes, who was untangling his half naked body from your sheets. Concern was written all over his face as he took in your appearance. You were rubbing furiously at your bloodshot eyes, your lashes sticking together in clumps as if you had been swimming. You tears made wet tracks down your face, past your quivering lips and dripped from your chin.
“Oh, Bucky.” You wept as he dropped down before you and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you close. Despite the heaviness in your stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of your body pressed against his. You clung to him, sinking into the warmth of his bare chest. “I’m being so silly.”
“No, you’re not.” He assured you. “Cry all you want. I’m here.”