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meetmymouth · 4 years

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your lips, my lips... apocalypse (harry styles imagine)

warnings: smut... fingering pregnant reader (thats your summary i guess lmao) word count: 4k+ this is for @majorharry‘s ‘20k fic celebration’ and the prompts i’ve chosen are ‘your hands are soft’ and ‘stop looking at me like that’. i hope you like it.

It’s magnificent, he thinks.

It’s the way the raised skin is peeking out from the bubbles, all shiny and inviting for his hands. He wants to reach out and touch the dampened bump, follow the barely-there trail of hair with his fingers down her belly only to find the rare, soft part of the bump, and rub the skin there while she laughs and tries to push his hands off of her. It looks breathtaking; in fact, she looks breathtaking. Her head resting on a bath pillow, eyes closed, twitching like a butterfly shivering its wings. Her skin glimmering, almost sparkling like the waves in the ocean when sunlight hits them. When his eyes fall to the bump once again, he realises the little baby growing inside and the hot air of the bathroom are to blame.

He comes closer, his gaze shifting from her face to the two large candles placed on the corner of the bathtub, eyes catching how the flames keep dancing as if they too are in awe of the glowing creature before them. Just like Harry, it’s as if they can’t believe she’s given them the opportunity to witness something so special, so exquisite. When his bare feet reach the mat in front of the bathtub, she‘s already stroking her belly, delicate fingers rubbing every inch of the bump, especially the sides where there’s a prominent bulging.

“Sneaking up on me?” she murmurs, eyes still closed.

Kneeling on the floor, he puts his arms on either side of the bathtub, and scrunches his nose at the sweet smell of peaches and vanilla. He turns his face towards the large window which is now letting the cool summer air enter the room. “The June moon. Burning pure champagne,” he murmurs back at her, and she opens her eyes. When she doesn’t reply, his smile grows. “If I were her I’d be envious of you too.”

“Come close, wanna smell your breath.”

He dips his index finger into the soapy water and splashes her. “Am not high.”

It’s dead silent for a minute, only little ‘plinks’ of dripping water and faint noises of cars coming and going outside can be heard. As she tries finding a better position for her head, rubbing it on the wet bath pillow, he keeps his gaze focused on her face, mostly the tiny droplets of water on her forehead as they make their way down to her flushed cheeks.

Over the last few weeks, her face had started gaining a bit more weight, her cheeks becoming fuller than usual and despite her loathing her ‘chubby’ cheeks, she looked ethereal. Whenever they complimented her ‘pregnancy glow’ though, she would pout and immediately show her swollen fingers and feet, and say ‘look at my face, do my chubby cheeks scream glowy to you?’. And to Harry, they did. They screamed everything beautiful to Harry. He, as selfish as it sounds, wanted her all to himself during her pregnancy.

Of course she’s always been beautiful. He’s never been a shallow man but whenever he looked at her, just doing the most mundane things, like doing the laundry, making tea or shaving the peach fuzz on her face, he felt his chest tighten. He felt proud, so proud that she allowed him into her bubble everyday. He felt like she was so out of his league. Fuck what the tabloids say, fuck what Twitter says; she was way out of his league. His feelings only ended up intensifying during her pregnancy. He wanted to be the only one who saw her, who heard her voice, who got to hug and give her kisses. As absurd as it sounded, he felt like a jealous, territorial dog protecting its owner.

Now, looking at her naked form surrounded by bubbles in the tub, he feels the familiar pain in his chest, as if his rib cage has been squeezing his heart so tight that any moment now, blood would come out of his mouth. His heart feels like a quivering branch a bird has just left behind, shaking, but never empty. So full of love, adrenaline, and as warm as the first mould wine of the year.

When she tries to sit up in the tub, he stands up and reaches for her. “Let me help,” he whispers, hands going under her armpits to secure her in the slippery tub. “There. You comfortable? I’m surprised the water’s still warm.”

“Come in?” she asks with sleepy eyes and a tiny smile.

“I’m huge, I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable.”

“Please? I miss baths with you, just come in.”

He starts from his trousers, then his t-shirt, and then peels off his briefs. They both can’t help but notice his semi as it gets freed from the fabric, growing more and more at the sight in front of him. He can’t help but get excited at the sight of his girlfriend’s growing belly, the stretch marks appearing on both sides of it from carrying something, someone so special. As he dips his right foot first, then left in the water, his eyes fall to her full breasts, wanting to reach out and rub the darker nubs softly knowing they might feel tender to touch. Her beautiful nipples are facing downwards, slightly touching the sides of her stomach since her bump is getting bigger and bigger everyday.

“Budge up. Here, I’ll help you,” he mumbles as he tries to help her slide forward in the tub just to make space for him behind her. It takes some effort but they finally find the right position, all thanks to the spacious bathtub.

When he’s fully seated behind her and is sure that she’s also comfortable, especially with the added weight of her bump, he sighs and presses a kiss to the side of her forehead. “You smell nice.”

She lets out a breath through her nose, “Mm, thank you. You do too.”

“I’m sweaty, I doubt I smell nice.”

“I like your musk. So hot,” she lets out a sweet giggle and Harry groans, squeezing her shoulders.

When she tilts her head back, their eyes meet. Harry’s pupils get dilated, his hold on her shoulders tighter. He watches her close her eyes, inhale the sweet, floral scent as his hands follow the length of her arms until they reach her hands, intertwining their hands. Her hands are wet and warm, almost as warm as a concrete that’s been swallowing all the early afternoon sunshine. But then again, he thinks, maybe it’s just the excitement seeping through his pores, spreading onto his hands, then mixing in with hers. When he shifts his gaze from their hands to the side of her face, his dimples become larger. She’s humming a song ever so quietly, presumably one he’s never heard of, as she rubs the soft web of skin between his thumb and index finger.

When she tries to reposition one of her legs, Harry becomes alarmed. “You okay? Do you need me to move?”

“No, I’m good,” thumb still rubbing his skin delicately. “My knee was getting cold,” her hand must feel warmer now that it’s completely underwater as she hums quietly, presumably at the warm feeling.

He hums and presses a kiss to her head, the wet hair dampening his lips slightly. Licking his lips, his eyes catch the sight of her boobs again and he feels his cock twitch at the sight. They had sex while she was pregnant. Lots of times. He’s always been careful with her but it only intensified during her pregnancy, especially during sex, and anything that involved her body. He loved making her feel good, whether it be sexual; fingering her, eating her sweet cunt out... or non sexual like giving her massages, massaging her swollen feet, helping her shave the areas she can’t reach… he’s always been happy to make her happy. But at the sixth month mark, things had started to shift in the bedroom. Now, Harry doesn’t care if he gets some as long as his heart and soul, his girl and their baby are happy and healthy. He doesn’t mind not waking up to her between his legs, sucking him off like her life depended on it. He’s okay with not having mind blowing sex 24/7 or being able to lift her up, part her legs and fuck her without giving her any warning.

But right now, at this moment, her soft and wet skin resting against his front, and her lower back slightly touching his pubic bone, these are all making it hard to keep his thoughts pure. He knows she can feel it, the growing bulge, by the way she keeps pressing her back further into his front and when he looks down, he sees her mouth curl upwards. Without much thought, he unlinks their fingers and brings them to her neck, gently pushing back a few wet strands of hair. “You’re warm,” he rests his hands on her collarbones. Her skin feels like the warm spot on the bed that she leaves behind on Thursday mornings, leaving Harry no choice but to cuddle into it more and more until he gets sweaty.

She tilts her head back and a fond look appears on her face, features all soft, eyes all sleepy. “You smell like strawberries,” she says, voice all soft, dripping with honey and lullabies and all things soft and good. “I wanna…” she puts her hand on his which are still caressing her collarbones, “…wanna eat youuuu.”

“Did you want strawberries, hm? Why didn’t you tell me earlier, I could pop to the shops and get you some, baby.”

She shakes her head and presses a kiss on his hand, “Ssh, it’s fine, just keep lovin’ on me.”

And he does. Of course he does. He takes her hand in his and brings it to his lips, careful not to bend her arm too much, and peppers little kisses on her warm and damp skin. When she lets out a satisfied hum, his other hand travels down to her breasts and caresses one of them, just the upper side of it, careful not to do anything that would make her uncomfortable.

“You like that, baby?” his hand makes its way to her nipple, all hard and swollen, asking for Harry’s attention. “You want more?”

A low moan leaves her parted mouth as Harry keeps rubbing the nipple with his thumb, giving it a gentle squeeze as if he’s just testing the waters, wanting to make sure he’s not hurting her already swollen boobs. As he keeps squeezing and tweaking the hardened nub, he takes a look at her face, sees her eyes all closed and he knows she’s already wet. He knows because he remembers her ob-gyn mentioning the ever-rising oestrogen and progesterone hormone levels during pregnancy and how these can make her feel… well, horny and aroused, at least more than usual. He slowly retracts his other hand from her neck and makes his way down to her slightly parted legs that are barely visible surrounded by the bubbles.

She nods and lifts up her head. When her nose touches his chin, the touch makes her smile.

“What do you want, baby? Tell me,” he utters, grip tightening on her left thigh. His breath hits her neck and she lets out another hum, her own hand finding itself on his that is placed on her thigh, fingers interlocking immediately.

“Touch me.”

“Touch you? Mm,” he squeezes the warm, hot flesh, her own fingers curling around his with the movement. “I’m already touching you, sweetheart.”

She takes her hand off of his and brings it up to his chin, fingers curling around it and making contact with his stubble first, then the scar under his chin. From the way she’s touching his face, Harry knows she’s getting frustrated with the game he’s playing. “Harry,”

“Tell me where you want my touch and I’ll give it to you.”

She lets out a soft groan, “Touch my pussy, please. I want it so bad I’m aching for it.”

“Oh baby, look at you,” his ring-free hand travels down her thigh, following the trail of slight fuzz of hair she’s forgotten to shave. “I bet you’re soaked… is your cunt soaked baby?” he asks, her hand gripping his wrist as his hand goes underwater, where her sweet pussy is buried between her legs, and he parts them. “Open wider so I can touch your little clit, baby.”

And she does. She parts her legs as wide as she can considering their position in the tub, and the lazy movement makes gentle waves on the surface, vanilla aroma as thick as ever, swirling in the air. He looks down and a smile appears on his face when he realises he won’t be able to see her pussy since her bump is on the way. Before she started showing, Harry’s hand would easily travel down her body, part her legs and start rubbing her clit while watching his middle finger work the soft, spongy spot. He would see every imperfection and curve of her lower body, thank whoever’s up there for sending her to him, and her, for letting Harry see her at her most vulnerable moments.

Even underwater, he feels her wetness as he drags her juices up to her clit and rubs harder. It’s slippery and warm, making his cock become more and more aware of what’s going on and as he keeps circling her clit, her hold on his wrist tightens. “Harry… God, that feels good.”

He hums and presses a soft kiss to her earlobe, “Yeah? That what you wanted? Me to play with your needy little cunt?” he presses his middle finger harder, applying pressure and she lets out a moan as he brings his finger towards her hole. “Fucked you too many times but y’still so tight, darling. Put a baby in you but you’re still so fuckin’ tight… fuck.”

“More please, give me more.”

“Look at me, let me see your pretty face while I fuck your cunt with m’fingers,” his palm makes contact with her pussy, pressing harder against it as his middle finger works her hole.

She raises her head, looking up at him with tired eyes and parted mouth. It’s all love, he thinks. She loves me. She lets me touch her even when she’s carrying a tiny human inside this belly. She wants this. She wants everything with me. And it actually hits him, for the hundredth time, that yes, she loves him. Her eyes, despite being half closed, touch something inside him. Not just his cock. It goes deeper than that. So deep. The loving and suggestive eyes make him feel all warm and fuzzy, like that one summer afternoon makes him feel, where you don’t have anything to do but lounge on the sofa, legs intertwined with hers and a stupid film playing on the telly. It feels warm. Hot. Familiar. And as he presses the second finger inside her, her arm reaches behind her and touches his hard cock underwater. She touches just the tip. It’s hot, and slippery. She knows he’s oozing precum as she touches the tiny slit.

“Baby…”

“I like your cock. It’s so big and warm in my hands. Always so hard for me,” she whispers as her fingers work his slit, thumb circling around the slippery area.

As she rubs her cock as efficiently as she can, he gets his fingers out of her and begins rubbing her clit, moaning at the spongy feeling as if he’s found a pearl deep inside the ocean. “Does it feel good baby? How’s it feel?”

She moans instead of responding, hand gripping his cock harder and making him hiss at the feeling. She doesn’t continue her movements, probably because of the way her arm is bent, but still holds his cock in her palm, squeezing it from time to time especially when his fingers rub that special spot inside her. His other hand finds her boobs and tweaks one of her nipples, making goosebumps appear on her skin. “God, your tits. So fucking hot. Look how big they’ve gotten baby…” he keeps squeezing her nipple between his thumb and index finger, tugging the nipple and twisting it just so before letting it fall, watching it jiggle. “Fucking gorgeous,” he keeps playing with her nipples while his fingers work her clit, rubbing circles as she keeps letting out little whimpers of joy.

When he sees her struggle with her arm, trying to find a better position for it just so she can give his cock more attention, his hand fall from her boob and grabs her by the wrist, bringing it up to her boob where his hand had been previously. She goes voluntarily, getting the message, and begins kneading her left boob, the nipple getting hard and pointy like clockwork. It’s so hot, the way she keeps playing with the swollen nipple, tweaking and squeezing the nub… it makes him harder than he already is. If she weren’t pregnant, he’d grab her by the waist and pull her closer to his front, press her against his cock just to get more friction. But it’s fine, he thinks. As long as she’s enjoying this, he’ll be more than fine.

“Fuck baby, I wish I could put those tits in my mouth right now. Lick them a little, bite them…” he adds the third finger, and as much as his arm starts hurting, he still keeps fucking into her with his long fingers. “Would you like that sweetheart? Would you want me to bite your little nipples while I played with this wet, juicy cunt, hm?”

She nods and a moan leaves her parted mouth when Harry brings her hot mouth closer to the side of her neck, and licks a long stripe from the salty skin of her neck to her ear, leaving a wet trail behind which he goes back to press open-mouthed kisses to the area. “This makes you wet? Me talking about what I would do to you?”

“Yes yes yes. Oh God- please!”

“You wanna move your hips so bad don’t ya, darling? Wanna ride my fingers, rub your little clit on my palm, hm?” while his fingers are still inside her pussy, now only his index and middle finger, he begins rubbing his palm against her clit. Despite being underwater, he feels the slippery nub inside her pussy make contact with his palm and he groans at the feeling, his palm increasing its movements as he keeps moving it left and right, then up and down. “Such a little slut, baby. Fucked you so good you ended up with a baby inside you but you still want it so bad, don’t you? Yes, look at you… want it so bad. You’re such a whore for me, always want something from Daddy. Always want this little clit to be played with don’t you, baby?”

“I do, God, I do! I love being a slut for you. I love when you fuck my little clit, please- please keep fucking me,” she moans and tries to ride Harry’s palm but fails due to the slightly uncomfortable position. A tear rolls down her left eye, pooling around her nose, and it makes her feel all pathetic and dirty.

Harry’s cock is now standing up against his belly, peaking through the soapy water, and it’s so hard, so fucking hard. The tip is swollen and a beautiful, mouthwatering shade of pink. He wants to reach down and thumb at the tip, maybe rub it a little bit just to get the edge off. But instead, he keeps fucking into her pussy while his mouth is pressed to her ear, alternating between licking and nibbling the soft skin. While sucking her earlobe, his free hand finds her bump and rests there. “My beautiful girl. Always so nice to me. Always so wet, so sweet…”

“I wanna cum,” she breathes, voice all groggy. “Let me cum, please baby, let me cum.”

“Does it hurt? Tell me, does your little clit hurt baby? Am I rubbing it too fast,” his tone is anything but sweet, it’s mocking and intimidating. And yes, it does hurt. The way his wide palm keeps rubbing against her sensitive clit makes her whine as she feels a little uncomfortable down there.

It’s so hard, keeping it up, and holding herself back from coming. She feels the burning sensation in the pit of her stomach but she tries to focus on the tips of her fingers playing with her nipple. She tugs harder, pulling it and then letting it go once again, but it’s too much and never enough at the same time. She needs it. She needs to cum so bad.

Harry brings his own hand and places it on top of hers on her boob and closes his fingers, making her squeeze harder. “Beautiful tits, baby. So, so fucking beautiful.”

“Harry…”

“Yeah, you like when I admire you? When I compliment your tits?” he smacks his hand on her, making her moan at the stinging sensation. “You know what’s comin’ right, sweetheart? You just know it, you dirty fucking slut… take your hand off. Come on,” he grabs her hand and places it on her thigh. He then travels his hand up to her boob, caressing the bump on the way, all gentle and loving, and then slaps her boob making her a whining mess against him. “Did it hurt?” he whispers, his breath tickling her ear, and he gives her nipple a hard squeeze.

“Mhm, yeah.”

“Good girl… want me to hurt you a bit more?” he kisses her ear and brings his hand to her other boob without waiting for her response because he knows what she would say. He just knows how bad she wants to be slapped even when pregnant.

When another smack is met with her other boob, her left leg twitches in the water, his inner thigh rubbing against Harry’s wrist that is still between her parted legs. “Want me to rub your cunt some more? To make you cum?”

She lets out a sigh and turns her head to the side, Harry catching her lips as if he’s been waiting for this moment. It’s messy, hot, and wet. It’s dirty. The way he captures her bottom lip with his teeth and pulls it, then sucks it into his mouth… it’s so dirty. He knows she’s tired, could cum any minute, but he appreciates how she presses open mouth kisses to his equally parted lips, the inside of her top lip catching a portion of the stubble on his upper lip which she decides to lick and press her open mouth harder. Wet sounds fill the room as Harry bites her bottom lip first, and then travels his lips down to her chin, sucking her sweaty flesh into his mouth.

She whimpers, hand falling to her bump, and Harry’s immediately follows. “Can I cum? I wanna cum so bad,” her legs start shaking visibly and Harry uses their intertwined hands to rub her belly, appreciating the hard bump under their hands. “Please, I want to cum so bad, so so bad. I can’t take it, it hurts.”

“Does it? How bad does it hurt, baby?”

“So fucking bad, Harry, please let me cum,” she practically wails and squeeze their fingers.

The candle that’s been sitting in the corner seems to be on borrowed time as it radiates the tiniest amount of light and Harry presses his lips to her warm neck, sucking the flesh while his hand works her clit, eyes never leaving the smoke that is dancing above the flame. And finally, she lets go, her other hand coming up to his neck and trying to hold on to it. It’s hypnotising, seeing her come undone despite not being able to see what his hand had been doing. It feels good, being the one who makes her feel like this; unguarded and dirty.

After that, a comfortable silence falls upon them as she tries to catch her breath, bump rising and falling with every breath she takes.

She looks up, eyes all red and watery, and a lazy smile appears on her mouth. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Mm, I like your face. Let me look at you,” he grins, resting his forehead on top of her head. “Smell nice.”

“I use shampoo on Fridays.”

“Come on, let’s get you out of here, darling,” he clears his throat to get rid of the hoarseness. “You feeling okay? How’s your back?”

“I’m good, don’t worry about me. I needed that. I can’t enjoy my own fingers anymore, I wish she was here already.”

He laughs but his eyes widen after a few seconds, hands falling from her shoulders to his sides, into the water. “She? It’s a girl? She’s a she? You- I thought it was gonna be a surprise, what the fuck babe?”

“I’m sorry! It’s not my fault, she told me by accident on my last visit!”

“You- I,” he waves his hands around and a few droplets land on her nose making her flinch. “I’m telling your mum.”

She gasps, “You wouldn’t! If I see another pink onesie I’m eating the baby. I’ll actually eat it.”

“I’ll eat you! Can’t believe you couldn’t hold it in.”

She sighs, hands going to her belly. “Help me get out and I might let you eat me some more.”

#scheduled #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #majorharry20k #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harrysgucciloafers

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bobohu4eva · 3 years

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Pink Lace - Chapter 7 (M)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader (feat. EXO members)

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, smut (nothing too wild this time)

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo @wooya1224 @strawbaeri-s

Masterlist

Friday went by in a blur. You finally wrote your essay, which was sent to Baekhyun after you got home from class. Class. It had been hard. Really hard. The material was challenging too, but you were more focused on how sexy Baekhyun looked in his nice professor clothes. How had you gotten this lucky? You laughed like an idiot when he saw you and innocently pulled down the hem of his shirt with one eyebrow raised at you, making fun of the marks he had so graciously placed on your neck. Lucas had seemed to notice the marks as well, since he seemed weirdly focused on his work and didn’t speak to you at all, a nice change from his usual nagging about why you wouldn’t text him back.

You couldn’t stop thinking about work the next day. Baekhyun would be there again of course, and this would be the first time for you to see him there after admitting your feelings. It gave you whiplash how quickly your opinion of him had changed in such a short time, but you had no regrets. If the last two weeks had taught you anything, it was to not second guess yourself. You were ready to get in there and give the man the lap dance of his damn life, and hopefully more. Oh how you looked forward to it.

Saturday morning, you got down to business. Of course you always tried to look a little extra nice when he’d been there in the past, but today was the real deal. You needed to be fully exfoliated, face-masked, and beautiful. There was no such thing as over preparing. Not today. You even used one of those bath bombs with glitter in it so your whole body would shimmer under the club lights.

You made a point of it to wear the same outfit you’d worn the first night he’d met you; a baby pink lace bodysuit with generous cutouts, a thong, and sparkly white heels.

You left ample time to make sure your hair and makeup would be perfect as well. For the hair you’d opted to keep it down and add a little bit of curl, as for makeup, you wanted to positively sparkle. For the first time since you’d started working as a dancer, you tasked Mia with doing your makeup since she was more skilled at it than you.

“So you want a lot of glitter and glowy-ness, right?” She asked as she dabbed foundation on your cheeks.

“Just make me look like the goddess I am.” You said, closing your eyes and smiling at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue beating your face.

“Got it boss.”

After what felt like forever, she finally turned you around to look in the mirror. Your jaw dropped. She’d done your makeup before for stuff like prom when you guys were younger, but she had really outdone herself this time.

Your skin looked like it was glowing from within, with flecks of holographic glitter sparkling every color of the rainbow across your cheeks. Your eyeliner was perfect, and she’d even overlined your lips a bit and added some highlight onto them to make them look extra kissable. It wasn’t too much, just the perfect amount to spice up your features and make you feel like a million bucks.

“Holy shit Mia I love you. I look hot.”

“You’re really gonna give him a hard time tonight.” She winked at you, and you decided you wanted to give him a bit of a preview, tease the man a little.

You and Baekhyun had been texting each other pretty consistently for the last couple days already. You slipped into your designated outfit for the night and took a few pictures to send him, only showing little parts of you at a time. You selected your two favorites, and hit send.

You: (5:46pm) I can’t wait to see you later ;)

Baekhyun: (5:52pm) Holy fuck. You know what that outfit does to me.

You grinned down at your phone at his reaction, heart fluttering and butterflies flying about in your belly. This feeling was so disgustingly sweet, but you loved every second of it.

After changing back into your regular clothes, you packed your outfit and got ready to leave after having dinner with Mia.

The club opened at 7pm sharp, and you were there right on time. You went back into the dressing room to change into your carefully selected lingerie and shoes, adding a spray of your favorite perfume as a final touch before getting back out onto the floor to start your night.

“Holy shit Candy.” You heard your manager say as you signed in for the night. “special occasion?”

Tonight, not even his comments could dampen your mood. “You could say that.” You replied cheerfully before sitting down at the bar where you usually waited until Baekhyun arrived.

After sitting for a little while you were called up on stage, so you walked across the room, making sure to sway your hips on the way, and walked up the stairs to the platform with the pole.

You walked slowly around the pole a couple times, getting into the feel of the music. Luckily the dj was on your side tonight, and was playing something slow and sensual enough for you to really get down to. You started to do your usual thing, a couple little spins on the pole, a bend over and shake of the ass here and there, before slowly laying down for some floor work. There were already a decent amount of people in the club, and a few had come up to the stage now to tip you. For maximum tips, you spent a little while in front of each of them either playing with your boobs in front of their face or turning around and shaking your ass as they threw money at you.

The way your club worked was you did one song with your outfit on, and the second song topless. When you heard your fist song coming to an end you stood back up, turning around to face your back to the room as you took it off, to make for a more dramatic reveal. You slowly peeled the thin fabric of the bodysuit off, stepping out of it leaving you in only your thong and shoes.

When you turned back around, Baekhyun’s eyes met yours from across the room. He must’ve walked in as you were facing the wall.

Immediately you grinned, and he looked just as thrilled to see you as well, sitting down at the empty table closest to the stage. He never tipped on stage, you assumed because he was shy about standing up there in front of everyone. Not that you minded, since he always paid you generously anyway. But tonight you didn’t even care about his money.

It seemed he’d put some extra effort into his look for tonight as well. 90% of the time when he would come in he was in sweats, but not today. His black jeans hugged his thighs in a way that made your mouth water, and the fitted white shirt he wore showed off the broadness of his shoulders wonderfully. His black hair was styled out of his face and his glasses were hanging off the neckline of his shirt, further defining the swells of his chest.

Oh how you had missed this. Seeing him here, absolutely enamored with you.

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and got back to dancing, this time paying special attention to his side of the room. You made sure to send little smirks his way as you did your thing. Once you’d made your way back onto the floor of the stage, you laid on your back on the edge closest to him, arching your back and running your hands up and down your bare body suggestively as you locked eyes.

He looked like he was about to faint.

Eventually the song came to an end. You gathered all the cash that had been thrown at you and got your outfit back on before walking off stage and directly onto Baekhyun’s waiting lap.

“If you’re trying to kill me, it’s working.” You giggled at his words, blushing.

“Thank you, I know this is your favorite outfit on me, right?” You asked, gesturing down to your lacy pink bodysuit.

“Of course.” He was smiling so widely, you thought this might be the happiest you’d ever seen him before. “You look so good tonight, you always look good of course, but holy shit. You’re really so beautiful.”

Your face turned an even deeper shade of red, the way he was looking at you would’ve made any girl swoon. Oh how beautiful he was as well.

“You’re literally sparkling.” He observed, looking down at the skin of your thigh and all the little silver flecks that were reflecting the spotlights as they moved around the room. “I’m gonna be covered in glitter when I get home aren’t I?”

You laughed, “Yeah, sorry.”

“Oh the things I do for you.”

“I missed this, the two of us hanging out together here, like this.” You whispered in his ear.

You could feel just how warm Baekhyun was. His cheeks were the cutest shade of pink.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Are you gonna be mad if I take you upstairs before ordering us drinks? I don’t think I can wait tonight.” He swallowed.

“No, I think that’s a great idea.”

“Then I need you to get off my lap babe.” You happily obliged.

As you made your way across the room towards the stairs together, your heart rate began to increase. Never in your life had you been this nervous to give someone a dance. Or maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. Anxious. You were anxious, not nervous. You weren’t scared, you just wanted to do your best to make him enjoy himself.

The both of you knew it wouldn’t be a normal lap dance today. You wouldn’t just dance for a few songs and then sit and talk like usual. There was no way either of you would have the self control to keep it at that.

When you finally got into the room Baekhyun handed you the usual stack of cash, and you started pulling down the straps of your bodysuit when he stopped you.

“I, um, can you keep it on actually? Nothing against your boobs, they’re great, but I just really like this on you.” He said as he sat down and put his glasses on.

You laughed, but put the straps back in place. “Whatever you want.”

Usually, you’d set a timer for an hour. Tonight you didn’t bother.

You got right to it, sitting yourself in between his spread legs and leaning back against his chest. You rolled your body over his to the music, before turning your head to once again whisper in his ear. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

You turned your body to face him, both hands running up and down his chest. You could feel how fast his heart was beating beneath your palm.

“Can I touch you?” He asked.

After considering it for a moment, you leaned in towards his ear again.

“You can do whatever you want.” Your bottom lip grazed his earlobe as you said it, and you saw him shiver.

Not a second later you felt his hands start to explore your lace covered torso.

“God, this is a criminal piece of clothing. Why is it so soft.” His hand eventually found it’s way to your neck, where he moved your hair out of the way to admire the marks he’d placed upon it. “So beautiful.” He murmured as he traced his fingers across the trail of bruises he’d left you with.

You stood back up straight in front of him, turned around, and bent over, running your hands across your whole backside and down your thighs. For the first time, his hands made contact with the bare skin of your ass.

“Let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable at all.”

You turned to face him again, planting a knee on either side of his left thigh. “I told you. Whatever. You. Want.” You paused between each word, just to make it a little more dramatic. He swallowed.

It was true. If he decided he wanted to fuck you right then and there, you weren’t going to stop him.

“Really? Anything?”

“Anything.” You repeated.

He was still staring into your eyes, looking slightly concerned, but he found no reason in them to not believe you. You truly wanted him to do whatever he felt like doing with you.

“Come here then.” He grabbed you by the waist firmly and lifted you off his thigh, instead placing you atop his lap completely, one knee now on either side of his body.

You’d never sat with a customer like this. Of course you’d sit on their laps facing away from them all the time, but this felt so much more intimate. You felt the hardness beneath his pants against you, close, too close, to where you wanted him the most. You put your hands back onto his chest and just stared back at him with wide eyes.

“And I can touch you anywhere?”

“Anywhere you want.” You confirmed.

He looked down from your eyes to your chest. One of his hands crept up from your waist, over your ribcage, until he let it rest over the fabric supporting your chest. He ran a thumb over your nipple where it was hiding beneath the lace, causing you to inhale sharply.

Immediately his eyes shot back up to yours, still worried that he was somehow making you uncomfortable, but the look on your face quickly washed his worries away. He felt your heart beating beneath his palm the same way you’d felt his earlier as well.

“Are you s-sure you want me to keep it on?” You asked shakily.

Instead of answering he slipped a finger beneath each of the straps and dragged them down your shoulders until your chest was once again bare. He hadn’t been lying when he said he wanted you to keep it on, but taking it off himself seemed like an even better option now. He bit his lip as he watched the fabric give way, exposing you to him. He stayed silent for a second before finally speaking.

“So, so, perfect.”

You were sure he noticed your whole body flush red at his statement.

His hands were soon back on your ribcage, pulling the bodysuit further down your torso until your entire upper body was naked. Your cheeks were starting to go numb from the excitement and your heart was beating so hard you were sure he could hear it too.

The entire time he undressed you, your eyes were fixed on his pink lips. Oh how they were tempting you. You didn’t remember ever being this turned on in your life. Once he’d had a minute to stare at your chest you quickly took the item off the rest of the way before returning to your previous position straddling his lap.

His hands were warm on your waist as he pulled you closer towards him, until your chests touched. His face was close enough to yours that you could feel his breath on your cheeks. You both just stared for a moment, until something in you snapped and you closed the distance, bringing your lips to his.

You swore there was something about the taste of his lips that was like a drug to you. The second you touched your mouth to his, your whole body felt electrified. Was this that fireworks bullshit people always talked about?

He returned the kiss the passion, but you could tell unlike in his office, he was now taking his time. Your lips moved against each other slowly as you let your fingers run through his hair. It wasn’t rushed, he let his lips move at a relaxed pace as he started to explore your mouth with his own. You felt his tongue ask for entrance and parted your lips, allowing you to taste each other.

You felt one of his hands start to move upwards from your waist, to your ribcage, until it found the soft flesh of your chest, squeezing slightly, causing you to let out a soft moan.

“I’ve fantasized about this so many times.” He broke away from the kiss just enough to get the words out. “You have no idea.”

You shivered at his words, feeling how they made the knot in your stomach tighten in excitement. When he moved his hand to your other breast and flicked a sensitive nipple with his thumb, you moaned out his name shamelessly.

“Fuck, you sound so hot”

His kisses moved from your lips, down your jaw, and to the side of your neck. He placed a gentle kiss beneath your ear giving you chills, before pressing his lips softly to each of the purple marks, making his way all the way down to your collarbone. The whole time his hands continued kneading your chest, making you nearly lose your mind.

You had been touched before, but not like this. You realized that the handful of boys you had allowed to touch you in the past hadn’t known what they were doing at all, Baekhyun did. His expert hands worshipped your bare skin expertly as he continued placing soft kisses down your neck, this time without any sucking or biting that would leave marks. He was enjoying you slowly, softly, but you were impatient and wanted more.

“Baekhyun, please” you whined.

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

You let out another annoyed whine, wanting, needing, something more to relieve the unbearable tension that was building between your legs. After another few seconds of waiting to see if he’d finally do anything more without any luck, you took matters into your own hands. You started to roll your hips against him, feeling the hardness in his pants through the thin fabric of your thong.

His hands flew down to your hips, gripping them firmly in an attempt to stop your movements, but you continued anyway. After several more rolls of your hips over his hard length, he gave in.

“God, y/n.” He breathed out, voice shaking slightly. “Shit.”

He began to grow needier as well, eventually using his hands on your hips to guide you, rather than stop you, as you continued grinding against him.

Your lips crashed into each other once more, this time with more desperation. He sucked, bit, and licked at your lips, as you did with his. He kept one hand on your hip, sliding down to grope your ass as the other made its way back up towards your chest. The hand on your ass squeezed and pushed you forwards to the beat of the music, pushing you firmly against the tent in his pants.

You still wanted more. You wanted him to touch you everywhere, and you wanted to feel him. In a feeble attempt to try to convince him to give you what you wanted you snaked a hand between your bodies, running it down his chest and then his stomach until you got to the top of his jeans. You let your hand inch down just a little bit further, until you could palm him through his jeans.

This time you let your kisses travel to his neck, before whispering in his ear “Please, I need more.” You could hear the neediness in your voice, but you were way too turned on to feel any shame. “Baekhyun, please.”

He already felt like he was about to burst just with the way you rolled your hips against him. It took every ounce of self restraint in his body not to just yank his pants down, rip off your underwear and shove himself inside you. Feeling your hand over his cock, hearing you literally begging him for more, was too much.

“If you don’t stop I’m gonna come.” He said, sinking his fingers into your thigh hard enough to bruise, bringing your ministrations to a halt.

You leaned back slightly to look at him and saw his eyes closed, brows furrowed with a pained expression on his face. He was really having to hold himself back. You let out a disappointed sound that was somewhere between a whine and a moan.

“That’s okay though.” You honestly wouldn’t have minded, it happened fairly often anyway when you gave lap dances, nothing you weren’t used to. “Please?” You continued to beg, resuming the movement of your hips as well.

A muffled “Oh my god” was all he could get out before his hands were back on you.

He still wouldn’t touch you the way you wanted him to, leaving you more and more wound up and desperate as you whined in his ear with every roll of your hips. His eyes were still closed and his head was tipped back against the couch, giving you access to the smooth skin of his neck. You left kisses all over the soft skin as you kept up the motion of your hips, and you knew he was about to crumble.

You weren’t doing much better yourself. His hands found their way back to your chest, kneading and pinching the sensitive skin perfectly, reducing you to a quivering mess above him. The tension in the pit of your stomach kept building, and you knew you were close as well.

Not a minute later you felt your release crash over your body as you shook against him, letting out a sound of pure euphoria. He seemed to notice, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for another searing kiss. You kept moving against him and soon felt him go rigid as well. When he came he held you against his body so tightly, kissed you so hard you forgot your own name for a second. All that mattered in that moment was how good the both of you felt, panting and shaking as you slowly recovered from your highs. As your breathing gradually slowed down, you rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in bliss.

To your disappointment he pushed you back by your shoulder, pulling you out of your dream-like state.

He was shaking his head, “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

Instead of listening to him try to apologize for nothing, you shut him up by cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss. “Thank you.”

You smiled at him brightly and he returned it ten fold. You swore that smile was like sunshine even on the darkest day. You let your head rest on his shoulder once again, and he rubbed soothing circles onto the bare skin of your back.

“I was gonna apologize because I really wanted to save this for after I took you on a real date.”

You leaned back up to look at him once again, giggling at his words. “If anything you should be apologizing for not fucking me for real. But does that mean you’re asking me on a date?”

“No! I mean... not yet. I want to do it right. Ask you out properly. But you make it so fucking difficult, you know how hard I have to hold myself back? You’re one hell of a temptation to resist.”

You only rolled your eyes at him, “You’re the one choosing to hold back, if it were up to me you would’ve bent me over your desk Wednesday night already.”

He chuckled, “I know the way we met is... different, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be swept off your feet. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I treated this like nothing more than some heat of the moment fling. I want more than that, I hope you do too.” He said, looking up at you with hopeful eyes.

“Yeah, I do.” You blushed, looking down to avoid his gaze. Here he was, once again making you flustered with how honest and open he was about his feelings towards you.

The way he smiled back at you, and the admiration you saw in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. You brought your lips to his, and this time, you weren’t fueled by lust. The two of you just enjoyed the feeling of the others lips, basking in the softness and intimacy of it.

Eventually he pulled away, and cleared his throat “I hate to ruin the moment, but I kind of wanna get home and shower. I told you to stop if you didn’t want me to but you kept going so...”

You pouted, but he was right. You’d brought this on yourself. “Okay” you sighed.

After getting off Baekhyun’s lap you got your bodysuit back on, but before you could exit the room together, he grabbed your wrist.

“Come here.” He pulled you towards him, placing his hands around your waist, and you let your arms rest on his shoulders. He looked at you again with those same eyes from earlier, but this time he held your gaze much longer, and with much more intensity. Something felt different this time when he looked at you, like he was trying to tell you something just with his eyes. He brought a hand up to your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You’re so pretty.”

You felt yourself go pink, and smiled as he pulled you in for one last kiss, this one even sweeter than the last.

Eventually both of you went back downstairs, you disappeared into the dressing room to get ready to leave, and Baekhyun went straight to his car.

On your way home you kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you before you both left. It had somehow felt different, more intimate. His gaze had held so much emotion, you wished you could look inside his head at what he’d been thinking. You had been kind of surprised when all he said was that you were pretty, something he’d told you a million times before, so why was it so different this time? Why did it feel like it meant so much more?

The last kiss as well felt too sweet, far too romantic for the time and the place. He was always completely open with his feelings, and of course you knew he liked you, but you couldn’t help but feel like there were some unspoken words in the way he’d looked at you just then.

Maybe, just maybe, it could be love.

Next Chapter

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fic #exo fic #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo fluff

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lovestrucked-again · 4 years

Note

I read ur breeding kink with Jaehyun and I just woke up in a sweaty heated mess from the dream it left me with. Like uk how Jae is so in love with children? omg just him desperate to have a child and constantly fucking and i-

a/n: so i saw this AGES ago in my inbox but i didnt answer it because i had this idea and only finally just put it down (sorry). *clinks a glass* TO JAEHYUN AND A GODDAMN BREEDING KINK.

warning: lots of fucking, lots of overstim, breeding kink, 2k

Okay so everyone knows Jaehyun has a soft spot for children and to him, the thought of having his own kids one day is such a dream. He can’t help but vividly picture you, walking around with a hand on your stomach, carrying his child looking so glowy and pretty.

He’s probably mentioned it earlier on in your relationship, believing that you’re ‘the one’ for him; the one who makes him truly happy and want to be better as a person. He promised to care for you, to watch you advance in your own personal goals and to cheer you on from the side lines.

After being together for a few years, the talk of having your own child would come up almost every night while you lay cuddling in bed, “Do you think about it?” he asks, his voice in a cautious whisper.

“Hmm?”

“Having a child with me.”

“Of course I do Jae. I want to… just not right now.” you tell him, not wanting to bring a child into your lives in the midst of your busy individual schedules. You wanted to offer your child all your attention not anything half-assed.

“But one day right? You’ll give me a baby?” he murmurs in the darkness of the room.

“Definitely one day.” You mumble back, your lips forming into a soft smile against his chest.

A couple of months later and the two of you had made it back to your apartment after a long night out on your 4-year anniversary. That night when you made it to your front door, Jaehyun could no longer keep his hands off of you. Kissing you all over your face and neck, as he grips onto your waist, pulling you into him; digging his fingers into your skin. “Fucking beautiful and fucking mine, aren’t you?” He whispers, watching the way you squirm underneath him tangling within the sheets and almost sliding off the bed. He pushes himself into you, filling you with his incredible hardness as you groan, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him tightly into you. Your hips snap up to meet his, moving up and down on his cock, sending pangs of pleasure through your feverish body. “Can’t wait to see your tummy grow.”

He doesn't mean to say it, not wanting to pressure you into anything but the words slip off his tongue as he struggles to stay sane feeling your walls wrap tightly around him. All your gasps and soft whimpers echo in his ear and the sound of his cock wetly plopping out of your hole continue to drive him further into his fantasy. “Fuck baby, tell me to stop.” He chokes out, his teeth clenched and gritting against each other as he scrambles to get the words out.

“W-What, why?” You don’t want for him to stop and you’re confused at his sudden halt.

“If you don’t,” he grunts loudly, his hips snapping forward into yours, “I’m afraid I might put a baby in you.”

He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against your shoulder, his breath heavy as he attempts to restrain himself. You let out a quiet gasp, involuntarily clenching around him and he draws in a sharp breath. He tries to slow himself down, thrusting into at a lazy pace to prevent himself from coming inside; but not completely – as it would’ve felt like pure torture for him.

You bring your fingers up to his soft curls, tugging at them gently to bring his gaze up. Jaehyun whimpers softly but he looks at you, his vision hazy as he tries to focus only on your face and not at the feeling of your walls surrounding him.

“I want you.” You whisper, watching his brows furrow in confusion.

“What?” he asks, unable to comprehend your words.

“I want a baby with you.” You repeat.

Jaehyun nods, his nervous expression from before turning into a devilish smile. That was his breaking point.

***

It all happens rather quickly, Jaehyun being very impatient after learning you were also ready for the next step. The pills are the first thing to go; letting your body take his sperm and work it out naturally. He takes all the little opportunities of free time he has to make sure your filled with him.

On late nights when he’d come home after practice at ungodly hours, you’d be woken up by him in bed, his soft kisses planted around your body causing you to stir from your sleep. On mornings where he had more time to stay at home, you’d both be in the shower; your front pressed against the cold tiles as he drives himself into you.

He’d take you anywhere and anytime he could, desperate to finally have a child with you.

On a particular afternoon, Haechan and Mark had come around, sitting outside on the balcony of your shared apartment. You could see them through the glass screen, separating the balcony and the indoors as you focused on the cleaning the dishes in the sink. Jaehyun took you right there and then. You felt his erection poking at the back of your ass, “Jaehyun, we have friends over,” you warned him.

Instead, his hands ran over your stomach and down your pants as you groaned quietly, cursing yourself for not bothering with panties because of your slack sweatpants. “We can be quick.”

Without wasting time, he had placed the head of his cock at your pussy, rubbing it back and forth a few times between your wet slit before he eased into you. It slides in easily, and in one smooth motion he buries himself to your hilt. Your hands reach for the counter, struggling to keep balance as your ass moves back to meet him. His hands find your hips, moving a little faster, thrusting a little deeper. You kept your focus on the boys outside, watching them laugh and talk to each other, oblivious to the scene unfolding behind them. You took a hand off the counter, reaching down for your clit, desperate to relieve yourself quickly. Without any time lost, your legs buckle and you cum, spraying the floor as Jaehyun shoots his load deep into you.

The two of you stood there, his cock softening as you caught your breath. Jaehyun’s first to notice Mark getting up from his seat, quickly pulling out of your pussy and drawing a long string of cum out. He swiftly pulls his pants up and you do as well, leaving immediately when you see the grey fabric beginning to stain dark by the mess flowing out of your pussy. Jaehyun ducks down with a paper towel, forced to quickly clean the mess on the floor as Mark walks in.

***

Again and again he would beat into you, the slick sound of his cock pumping in and out of your wet pussy loud in your ears, along with the frantic creak of the bedsprings, the banging of the headboard against the wall. “Going to make you full of me princess.” He hums, his body going suddenly stiff, ramming you deep as you scream feeling his fingers claw into your breasts. Your pussy feels crammed with cock, and you can feel him throb hard, shooting his semen into you. You cry out with him, and then shortly after cum too, thrusting your hips up at him in a spasm of release as his seed pours into you. You arch your back clawing at the bedspread as you tremble beneath him, the blood roaring in your ears.

It’s not even minutes later before he flips you over, “one more time baby,” he whispers dragging your body closer to his to align himself again and drive forward.

A few days later and Jaehyun had bought home a pregnancy test, bouncing around excitedly as he waited for you to check. Both of you were sure that night had done it, but as they say, things never go as easy as you want. You sit back against the tiles as you think of how to tell him, it’s negative. Jaehyun doesn't take it well, dashing back to the store for another test, believing the first one was just a mistake. When you test it again you can only sigh, “Jae it’s not broken, it’s negative.”

He tries his best to keep hide his disappointment, taking it as a challenge instead. “We just have to try harder.” He grins, picking you up from the bathroom floor and taking you back to the bedroom instead.

He eases into you slower, knowing your still sensitive from the relentless fucking over the previous few days. “Just have to try again.” He murmurs, more to reassure himself as you nod. You hum quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you whimper and fight against the burning in your thighs stretched widely against the sheet.

Jaehyun goes gently at first, choosing to drive himself further into your hilt rather than going in quickly. He’s thrusts are thorough, moving in long strokes against your walls tightly. You can hear him grit his teeth as he urges his self-control, struggling to adapt to a slower pace. He drops onto his elbows, his face centremetres away from yours as you feel his heavy pants at your cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you comfort him running a hand against his back, “it’s okay.”

His hips move a little faster as he grunts louder, his body moving forward with each thrust as you squeeze around him, “Take it all princess, all of it.” He whispers, pushing into your hilt as he feels himself shoot.

You’ve never seen him so desperate, it scares you a little but it also makes you feel a little nervous, worried how his mentally doing. He doesn't like to share much about how he feels, afraid to scare you. You try to shift under him, his arms trapping your head from turning and his body pushing closely into yours, “J-Jaehyun?” you whimper.

He lifts his head at your call, moving again to push himself deeper into you, letting his remains leak inside and mix with your juices.

“M-making sure.” He grunts, pushing your shoulders down as he moves his body up towards the bedframe “just in case.”

He doesn't stop after that; taking only a quick break preparing himself for another round. You squeal at the sudden loss of his cock inside before he begins pounding back into you suddenly, your nails digging into his skin as you hold onto him. Your body trembles underneath him from the intensity and you moan as you feel him shoot into you again.

“Stay still.” He coos, stopping you from moving away. It feels like your pussy is flooding, your walls struggling to clench weakly around him.

You watch as he adjusts the pillow underneath your head, planting soft kisses over your face and neck. His cock twitches inside you with every movement and you jerk everytime, “Stay like this for a while,” he murmurs, wanting to make sure he had done everything possible.

“You’ll get tired like that.” You pout, worried his arms wouldn't be able to hold his weight for a long period of time.

“I can take it.” He whispers, leaning his cheek against your shoulder as he shifts to keep his weight off you.

Your eyes begin to droop and you can feel his heavy breaths calm down against your neck. With a hand on his back, you use your free hand to stroke his hair, his exhales becoming softer and softer as time passes.

Jaehyun lays quietly in your embrace, his cock softening inside you. “I think we did it,” he whispers, his voice low and only barely audible. You feel his words vibrate against your body and with your eyes closed you give a soft nod in agreement.

#nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #dirty hours #anon

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artistfaery · 2 years

Note

🎞️🎞️ (A glimpse into the past of two OCs of your choosing if you're comfy!!)

He was not supposed to be doing that. His mother had already told him that needles were off-limits for him. But princesses in fairy tales knew how to sew. And they had cute animals that helped them until a fairy came to see them. How was he supposed to live in a fairy tale if he didn’t dress up as a prince? If he didn’t have little mice that could take him to the ball? If there wasn’t a white rabbit to guide him to a mysterious hole? His parents would surely understand. They weren’t there, anyway. He passed the needle through the fabric, holding the button eye in place.

His face light up as he admired his creation. A little wonky, one of the ears didn’t even stay up, but to him it was perfect. His first friend.

I think I have said it before, but Allen grew up mostly alone. His parents were always working, he is allergic to fur and he is not good at social interaction, so he had it a bit tough. But his special interest were always fairy tales, and that lead him to start learning to sew to make his own "little animal friends" and his own fairy tale attire.

Indigo's part below the cut. CW for blood, violence and crocodiles?

I can’t see anything. There is a metallic smell in the air and I can barely feel my arm. I know he is in front of me. I have to get away, I’m on the edge of the deck. I ask him to stop, but he just laughs at me. “That wouldn’t be fun, brother”, he says. I fall into the water, all I see are deep, glowy green eyes, staring at me under the water. The only thing I can hear apart from the waves is the tick tack that comes from that creature, approaching, invading my ears. And for a moment, I think this is the end.

I went to the angsty part with Indigo, sorry not sorry. He doesn't talk much about it, but he has a little brother! And they had a small... Disagreement a long time ago. You know how classic faes are a bit sketchy and so? Yeah, I wanted to go with that for him.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst #twst oc #twst allen #twst indigo #i'm sorry this took so long to answer i had a lot to do for uni :')#i'm 100% comfy #thank you so much for asking ;;;#i was going to write about flox but i know not everyone is interested on obey me so i stuck to twst

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Not So Golden Opportunity (BAON)

Summary: Usually Stretch likes getting packages in the mail, but there is always room for an exception.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

The knock on the front door wasn’t much of a surprise, not when it came at delivery o’clock. Stretch always had packages coming in, everything from equipment for the lab to a new t-shirt that declared he was a ‘Karaoke King’, there was always something for their delivery person to drop off. At any given time, there was enough cardboard stored in their garage waiting to get dropped off at recycle to make one heck of a box fort, and that was on his list to do with the neighborhood kiddos one of these weekends.

So, the knock on the door? Not a surprise. What they were delivering on the other hand—

“uh, wow, thanks, marty,” Stretch said, a little dubiously. Marty let out an agreeable honk and meandered their way back to their little mail truck, leaving Stretch standing there with an enormous armful of flowers from an unknown source. Couldn’t be from Edge. Sure, he’d given flowers a few times, but Edge was more of an in-person sort of guy when it came to presents.

Welp, there was only one way to find out, wasn’t there. Time to get his Velma on and look for some clues.

Stretch carried the massive thing inside and plunked it down on the coffee table to give it a closer look. It was actually a very nice floral arrangement, even Stretch could see that and he didn’t know shit about flowers or décor. Tiny sprays of white, bell-like blooms and ferny green things surrounding several huge blooms of golden flowers, the likes of which Stretch hadn’t seen in years, not since they were Underground.

Hm. Golden flowers.

The card had Edge’s name on it, but Stretch didn’t bother sneaking a peek. Mystery solves, there was only one person who would’ve had this delivered to their door and he probably made it with his own fuzzy hands. The real question was why that asshole was having flowers sent to his husband, thank you, and the only way to find out if he needed to start making plans to yank out hunks of fur with his bare hands was to ask, with the minimum of simmering jealousy possible.

“babe?” Stretch called. Edge was in the kitchen, making preparations for their new cupboards to be installed next week. “hey, c’mere a minute!”

He’d expected Edge to be pleased, he did like his flowers, heck, maybe even excited in that adorably subdued way he had, and much as Stretch could have done without any surprise packages from Ass-gore in their house, eh, he’d deal with it if they made Edge happy.

The last thing he anticipated was for Edge to stop cold halfway out the kitchen door, the fleeting expression of disgust crossing his face quickly shifting to blankness. Edge wasn’t exactly the most emotive guy out there, but Stretch was pretty good at reading his facial version of charades and right now there wasn’t so much as a twitch of the eye socket or a curl of his mouth as he said, low, “Please put that in the garage.”

“the garage?” Stretch repeated doubtfully. He looked down at the extravagant display of floral dominance in his hands and wondered if he’d heard that right. “you sure?

“Yes, because someone might notice if you put it right into the trash.” That blankness cracked, a little, enough for Edge to snap out, “Just get it out of the damn house!”

Yeah, okay, got that message loud and clear, especially since Edge was starting to look a little glowy around the hands, like he was considering a little impromptu, and violent, floral rearranging. Stretch grabbed up the offending bouquet before it could end up as target practice and shortcutted out into the garage.

Like the rest of the house, it was neat as a pin, no oil stains on this concrete floor and all the tools neatly put away on the pegboard. In the back corner was the motorcycle, shrouded in drop cloths and waiting for Edge to be able to take it out for a spin again. Didn’t seem like putting the flowers anywhere special was part of today’s theme, so Stretch stuffed the thing into the furthest spot, away from Edge’s car so he wouldn’t have to see it when he came out on his way to work tomorrow.

Job successfully achieved, Stretch dusted off his hands and teleported back inside. Edge was already gone from the living room, no surprise there, but he hadn’t gone back to the kitchen. A quick, not-at-all-frantic search found him sitting out on the front porch and that wasn’t really a surprise, either. But the cigarette in his hand? Now that blew past surprise all the way into flabbergasted shock. Far as Stretch knew, Edge hadn’t bummed a smoke in months, his general attitude towards smoking was distaste with extreme prejudice. It took a helluva lot for him to give into the urge for a quick fix to a nicotine craving. Whatever his issues were with the flowers, whether it was the gift or the person who sent them, they were bad.

“babe?” Stretch asked, cautiously, still hovering half in the house. As worried as he was, he wouldn’t push, ready to leave if Edge wanted to be alone.

Edge only shifted the cigarette to his other hand and patted the concrete next to him in silent invitation. A little relieved, Stretch came out and sat down. He dug his own cigarette out of the crumpled pack and the two of them sat hip to hip, quietly smoking. Overhead, the sky was endless sea of deep blue broken only by the occasional streak of a puffy cloud. A nice day, too nice for the unspoken questions hanging heavily in the air, but Stretch didn’t ask them. Edge would talk when he was ready and if he never was, welp, that was fine, too. Edge wasn’t the only one who could be supportive, Stretch was more than willing to take his turn under the weight.

It wasn’t until Edge tamped out his cigarette in the ashtray Stretch kept out on the porch that he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Edge said finally. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“i think i’ll live, babe,” Stretch replied, dryly, “the wounds were superficial.” He gave Edge a gentle nudge in the side with his elbow. “you okay?”

Yeah, okay, that wasn’t pushing, thanks. Besides, it was a stupid question, because the answer was obviously going to be a ‘yes, fine’ and that’d be it.

Except that he didn’t get the obvious answer he expected.

“Not right now,” Edge said. His sockets were half-closed and instead of their yard, he seemed to be looking miles away. “I will be.” They sat in silence for a while longer, Stretch watching people walking by, waving as required and leaving Edge to his thoughts. He was lighting a second cigarette when Edge finally spoke again, softly. “Golden flowers.” The faint hitch in his voice could’ve meant nothing, if the person he was sitting with didn’t know him so well. “I haven’t seen real golden flowers in years.”

Stretch considered that. “i’m taking it they weren’t sorely missed.”

“Hm?” Crimson eye lights briefly flicked his way. “No, not at all. I hate the blasted things.”

Stretch only took a long drag and exhaled slowly, blowing a smoke ring up into that blue, blue sky. He didn’t ask or urge him to talk, simply being there if he chose to. And Edge did, slowly, as if choosing every word with care. “The only place in Underfell where golden flowers grew was the king’s chamber in New Home. My memories of that place are…not pleasant.”

Not pleasant. Yeah, like lava is a wee bit warmish or the Titanic sprung a little leak. Indisputable truths: water is wet, the sky is blue, grass is green, and any meeting with the king of all Monsters in Underfell was not pleasant.

The explanation made perfect sense, really; if Stretch’d had a minute to actually think about it instead of dividing his attention between ditching the flowers and then finding his wayward husband, he probably would have figured it out on his own. Perfect sense, yep, and that was why Stretch was torn between temptations. First, to grab Edge and hold him close, to keep him there in his arms and do whatever it took to chase away any of the mental ghosts that were creeping in, to be the protector for one damn time. And then there was the equal temptation to take that little flower arrangement on back to the source and see if he could find any handy place to stick it, because right now, he was ready to cram it so far up someone’s fuzzy buns that they’d need their dentist to help get it loose.

But Edge wouldn’t appreciate either of those options. All Stretch could do here was sit here, be here, and hope it was enough.

Stretch was so lost in his thoughts that he startled at the touch of a gloved hand as it settled gently over his bare one, sharp fingertips blunted by fabric lightly stroking his own. “He didn’t know, love. He mentioned to me in passing that he’d started working on floral arrangements again for the summer and that he’d be sending them out to Embassy employees, and I completely forgot.”

Trust Edge to know exactly what direction his thoughts were headed, right off the grid and into a little righteous revenge. Didn’t help that the things Stretch wanted to say to that excuse weren’t exactly helpful. Things like, Asgore should have been able to guess, homey reminders were only good for people who actually liked their past home, and maybe a reminder to pay some fucking attention to anything besides his own personal popularity contest was in order. Or how about suggestion for a visit to emphasis the whole ‘we don’t send my husband any gifts without pre-approval, asshole’.

None of those options were actually useful and either might actually get him banned from the Embassy this time, so Stretch kept ‘em to himself and only said, “i know.”

Then he let out a squawk as that gentle touch on his hand turned into a firm grip around his wrist and he was abruptly yanked over into Edge’s lap. He barely managed to put out his cigarette before it landed anywhere unpleasant. It took a little creative, and occasionally blatant, wriggling to get situated but in the end, he was settled across Edge’s femurs and snuggled in. His own hands were perfectly G-rated, Edge’s only slightly less so but it wasn’t like anyone on the street could see the hand he’d slipped under Stretch’s sweatshirt and settled over his sternum, right where his soul would manifest if he summoned it. Neither of them did, not yet, not out here in front of the broad daylight and the neighbors. The barest suggestion was enough for right now.

“I’m all right,” Edge murmured, and the warmth of his breath against the curve of his jaw was a tempting distraction. But Stretch wasn’t gonna forget to hand over a carefully selected piece of his mind to Asgore the next time he saw him.

Next time fuzzy ass wanted to send a present, he could stick with a gift card.

-finis

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 3 years

Note

What do you think of the whole time travel to save Ahsoka thing. Ngl it felt artificial and a little forced. Just get like Filoni really wanted to keep Ahsoka alive, but not have her beat Vader. I feel bad because I do like Ahsoka but I don’t like how she’s still alive through time travel.

Tbh, I absolutely love it. It just BLEW MY MIND when I first saw it - I remember I was on my friend’s bed in a normally very hot city where it was snowing for the first time in like 30 years, and I just flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling trying not to scream because that episode was still the most exiting thing to happen to me that day x)

Yeah, Ahsoka is a bit Filoni’s pet OC that he’ll probably never kill off. Sure, sometimes it’s annoying (although I’m honestly more annoyed with how they made her underpowered in The Mandalorian than I am with how they made her overpowered in Rebels). And sure, Filoni had to find a contrived way to get Ahsoka out of the fight, because there was no way she could beat Vader and him sparing her would have completely messed with the OT’s themes. I get being annoyed at how much of a deus ex machina the World Between Worlds was.

But I still really, really, really love it because of just how bonkers the Force is. I’ve got mixed feelings about Rebels, but it handled the Force so well, especially in S4. You’re just blown away by the sheer power and the vastness of it! I was so glad that we got to see more about how the Force isn’t bound by time and space, but is what binds time and space! It’s so insane and so magical! I love the very grounded aspects of Clone Wars and the Prequels, but heck! I don’t just love the Jedi for their glowy sticks and their cool Temple and their personalities - I love that they have the power to throw the laws of physics out of the window and tap into the Cosmic energy of All Living Things and connect with the very soul of the universe and just dive into this boundless ocean and see and touch and feel everything. It’s got me starry eyed, this little taste of how amazing and incredible and humbling and intoxicating the Force would be like. At that point I don’t even care about the plot, I’m here for the feels about space warrior-monk-wizards who can apparently walk through time and touch the fabric of the galaxy and still felt that dedicating their lives to helping people was a worthier pursuit than ruling the world. I wish we could have seen more of it for the Prequels Jedi - just them letting go and immersing themselves fully in there, being otherworldly and spiritual and amazing.

(See me being extremely salty about The Mandalorian dropping Ahsoka the White’s aesthetic. How dare you tease me with her being a prophetess/priestess/spiritual figure that walks around with a staff and presumably no lightsabers and has the physical incarnation of the Light hanging out on her shoulder, and then make her just a regular-looking rogue soldier type again???? Bring back Ahsoka the White you cowards.)

... All of that plus Ezra having to let go when Kanan is literally within arm’s reach felt so unfair and so tragic - and yet such a beautiful example of Jedi dedication and fortitude.

So yeah I really love the World Between Worlds, despite some of the inconsistencies and whatnot.

#ask #anonymous #ahsoka tano #world between worlds #IT'S JUST SO BEAUTIFUL #rebels

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diddlesanddoodles · 4 years

Text

DUMPLING ch 51

Whatever Bertol had done to her, Nenani continued to feel the exhaustion deep inside her body and limbs. Her arms felt very much as though weights had been strapped to her wrists, and she found the simple endeavor of keeping herself sitting upright to be alarmingly difficult. At last, the fatigue won out and she collapsed back against the bubble in a tired heap. It was a terribly distressful feeling, and she may have been inclined to worry more if not for the reassuring sight of both Farris and Keral only a dozen yards away.

While Keral’s gaze was firmly fixed on their captor, Farris was studying the condition of the humans as best he could from his vantage point. His green eyes met Nenani’s own and she placed a hand against the wall of her prison in a silent plea for release. Shifting his focus to Bertol, his expression darkened and his mouth pulled back into a bitter snarl.

“I’ll warn yer now,” he growled. “If ye’v harmed a single hair on their heads, I’ll draw and quarter ye myself.”

“They’re perfectly fine,” Bertol replied in irritation as he waved a dismissive hand. “Ye should be more concerned with how well Ellis is fairing, seeing as she’s the one been stuck in a damn jar for weeks.”

“She says she’s just fine,” Keral assured him and then jerked his head forward towards the bubble. “Now let ‘em go and I’ll let sparkles here out.”

Bertol did not move and merely regarded the brothers with reserved contempt. “You must think I’m an imbecile.”

Keral did not deny the accusation nor did his stare waver. Bertol’s own glare remained firm and unyielding and several moments passed where nothing was said. Abruptly, the tense silence was shattered when a small voice cut through with an irritated, “Oh for fuck’s sake, Bertie! Just let them go already.”

The severity of Bertol’s glare lessened and he addressed the occupant of the lantern. “You first. Then the children.”

“You must think so little of me that I could not escape this thing,” the fairy replied, rapping her knuckles against the glass. “Unlike the jar, this hasn’t been sealed. So let them go so we can all get on with our lives. I am desperate to spread my wings.”

Though not appearing the least bit placated by Ellis’s words, Bertol nodded mutely and waved a hand in a downward motion. All three bubbles floated towards the ground before bursting, and all three of the humans fell unceremoniously onto the grass. Nenani struggled to push herself up, her arms shaking badly. Jae was suddenly at her side, pulling her up with him and leaning her against his side for support.

“Watch it,” Keral growled, reaching up to the lantern and pulling the door open. With a sidelong glance at the fairy, he said, “I appreciate yer cooperation, Ellis. And yer help.”

“I suppose it’s my own fault,” said the fairy as she leaped into the air. Her iridescent wings unfurled from behind her and she stretched her arms and legs out, relishing her new freedom, as she hovered around Keral’s head as a golden ball of light. “I could have explained everything at the start, but magicians are so thick-headed about their worldview of magic, I didn’t see the point of even trying it. I’m just sorry Haiyer got mixed up in all this stupidity. And the others too, of course.”

Keral level a deadpan look at the fairy. “Uh-huh.”

The fairy flew over the brothers’ heads before zooming across the field. Bertol stepped forward to meet her, his hands reaching out eagerly, and the golden ball of light dropped gently into his hands. “I missed you, dearheart.”

“You sentimental old fool,” Ellis replied, though there was a smile in her voice. She rose up to nuzzle his nose and wrapped her thin arms around his face. “I missed you too.”

“Let’s go home,” Bertol said as he turned and began making his way back towards his tent.

“Not so fast there,” Keral said as he put down the lantern and slipped his pack off his back. He stepped forward, pushing his coat back to pull a pair of iron shackles from his belt. “Ye didn’t think ye could just up and trespass on the King’s property, abduct his son plus the heirs to Silvaara, and then just bugger off back into obscurity did ye? Ye’v got a lot to answer fer, Bertol.”

Bertol sneered at the ranger, pulling Ellis to his chest. “You have your waifs and I have my companion. Our business ends here.”

“I don’t think so,” replied the ranger, and then sprinted forward, his hands reaching out for the hermit. Bertol’s right hand pulsed with yellow light and he swung it in a circle above his head. A great wind cut through the copse of trees that shoved Keral back as it struck him. The ranger fell to the ground hard with a cry of alarm and pain. Farris scrambled towards the children and fell to his knees. His arms swept around to coax them all together and he used his body as a shield against the unnaturally turbulent wind.

Only when it died away did Farris raise his head, though he kept his arms curled around the humans. Nenani looked up to find that Bertol, Ellis, and the tent were all gone. She was still staring at the empty spot they left behind when, all at once, a deep chill settled over them. It was as though Bertol had been keeping the worst of the cold at bay and, now that he was gone, it was seeping back. Nenani’s whole body shivered with the sudden drop in temperature. The frozen grass under her was melting and soaking through the thin material of her nightdress, further exacerbating the problem.

Farris pushed himself up to study the humans below him. “Everyone alright, then?”

“I didn’t get to say hi to Ellis,” Haiyer murmured with disappointment from his place beside Jae.

“Damn raggedy old mage,” Keral grumbled bitterly as he picked himself up, favoring his right hip. He brushed away grass from his sleeves and backside as he surveyed the now empty lot where the tent had been. But it was not completely empty. Within the impression left behind, Keral’s eyes spotted the humans’ blankets laying in sad little heaps. The bright-colored fabric stood out starkly against the greenery. Bending down to gather them up, he brushed off the clinging debris while still muttering under his breath. “Fuckin’ moldy old goat.”

“Dammit, why is it so cold?” Jae demanded loudly while fervently rubbing his arms.

“Because its winter and yer damn near naked,” Farris snapped as he shrugged off the pack he was carrying. It plopped onto the ground and he began to fish around inside. “Luck fer ye three, I thought of that.”

He pulled out a wool coat for Jae who took it eagerly and slipped into it. It was a thick dark brown material that fell around his knees with a simple string belt to tighten around his waist. For Haiyer, he pulled out a tawny-colored padded tunic. It looked more appropriate for someone three times Haiyer’s size. “Wasn’t able to actually nab anythin’ of yer own, but this’ll keep ye toasty just fine.”

The tunic’s sleeves were far too long on Haiyer, but the little boy seemed content enough to let the extra length fall over his hands and drag on the ground. The thicker material would do well enough to shield against the cold.

Keral walked up on them while holding out the retrieved blankets. “These should help a bit too.”

For Nenani, Farris had brought one of the wool dresses that Lolly had made her when she first came to Vhasshal. She had difficulty slipping into it and Farris’s eyes narrowed as he watched her struggle. He brought his hand to her side, fingers curling around her back, and leaned down to peer into her face.

“What’s wrong, lass?” he asked. The creases of his forehead were more concerned than irritated.

“Tired,” she answered, leaning against his hand. “Bertol did something to me.”

The mild worry in Farris’s face was replaced with fury. “What did he do to ye?” he demanded.

Jae answered for her before she could form any response.

“She went all fire mage on him. He really didn’t like that.” He held his hands up and wiggled his fingers. “Then his hands got all glowy and he just sort of sucked all her magic out of her until her flames died out. He seems to have a thing against fire mages.”

Farris’s nostrils flared, but he held back his words and focused instead on helping Nenani into the dress. She had managed to get it mostly over her head by herself, but Farris had to pull the rest of the garment down over her. Once she was dressed, he took one of the blankets from Keral, wrapped her up, and then tucked her into the crook of his arm.

“If I ever see that bastard again,” Farris sneered, “I’ll skin ‘im.”

He growled and grumbled inaudibly for several more moments and then turned his attention to the boys. “Yer just gonna have to manage without shoes til we get back. But we’ll be carryin’ ye, so ye should be just fine.”

“And speakin’ ‘a that,” Keral interjected. He stood over Jae and Haiyer and dropped the two other blankets over their heads before standing back up. Ignoring their muffled protests, he planted his hands on his hips to gaze out at the scenery around them. “Yer not gonna like how long that’s gonna take.”

Farris frowned. “Just how far out are we?”

“Don’t have a fuckin’ clue,” was Keral’s frank reply.

Farris’s frown deepened. “What do ye mean ye don’t know? Yer a damn ranger.”

Keral returned his brother’s glare. “That was my first time taking a fairy portal, too. I’m used to knowin’ how I got to a place instead of being dropped down into it. What I can tell ye is we’re way fuckin’ north.”

“Well I could ‘a figure that much out myself,” Farris grunted, jerking his head towards the looming mountains.

“Fairy portal?” Jae asked after freeing himself from the blanket, and he looked back and forth between the brothers for explanation. “What do you mean fairy portal?”

“Just as I said,” Keral answered. “When the guards found ye all missin’, the whole castle lost their fuckin’ minds. Turned the whole place upside down. And we weren’t gonna just sit there and pretend like we were gonna find ye somewhere under the floorboards, so we decided to find ye ourselves. Grabbed some supplies and went to see if Maevis could give us an idea of which direction to go.” He scratched his chin and shrugged. “And then wouldn’t ye know it? A lil’ voice starts berattin’ us from an empty jar. Said we were irresponsible fer losin’ ye and some other insults I don’t remember. Then all a sudden that empty jar wasn’t so empty anymore. Maevis damn nearly fainted findin’ out not only are fairies real, but he’d been keepin’ one in his office. She offered to lead us to the fucker that nabbed ye three in exchange fer lettin’ her out and we took her up on that. She makes this big ol’ ring of light, we stepped through, and poof! Here we are.”

“And now that the fairy has left…” Jae prompted.

Keral turned his head to regard him with one eye. “We ain’t got as easy a way back as we did gettin’ here. So that means we’re walkin’.”

Jae wilted, pulling the edges of the blanket up around his face. “Wonderful.”

“Well, don’t be surrenderin’ to gloom just yet, lad. Might not be as bad as all that,” Keral replied. He pointed off to the left at the tallest of the mountain peaks. “That big one there is Mt. Vehnmir. So that must mean we’re somewhere in Dovencliffe or close enough to it. If we start headin’s south, we’ll start hittin’ civilization within a day or so. The Lords Harvington and Adler have hunting lodges up this way. If we can find one, we’d be able to garner some help from them and get a message back to Warren at the very least. Lord Brennan’s estate’s up here too somewhere.” Keral grinned down at Jae, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “And of course yourdear friend Lord Colem.”

Jae glared at the ranger. “I would rather walk all the way back barefooted.”

“Lucky fer ye, then,” Keral laughed, “I’ll be carryin’ yer sorry arse.”

“Great,” Jae grumbled. “First I’m taken hostage by bumbling fucking Bertol and then I get to be hauled across the country like a sack of potatoes.”

“A royal sack of potatoes,” Keral corrected smugly.

“You’re far too happy about this,” Jae told him. “Shouldn’t you be more pissed that Bertol got away?”

Keral crouched back down in front of Jae and ruffled his hair. The puckish tilt to his grin grew warmer and soft. “Just relieved to have found ye safe and in one piece, lad.”

Wrapped up snugly in his blanket, Haiyer ambled over to Keral and tugged on his coat. When the ranger looked, all he could see of the boy were his eyes and nose peeking out.

“Hm? What’s wrong, pup? Yer feet froze?” Keral asked, reaching down and gently nudging the boy with a knuckle.

Haiyer wiggled back and forth. “I have to pee…”

Keral raised an eyebrow and jerked his head in the direction of the trees. “Plenty ‘a trees over that way.”

“I don’t wanna go by myself,” whined the little boy.

Keral smirked and eyed him accusingly. “Don’t tell me yer afraid now.”

Even with the majority of the boy’s face covered, his expression of indignation was clear enough, and to further accentuate it he stomped his foot. “I am not afraid.”

Keral hummed in consideration. “I think ye might be.”

With nothing more than a glare, Haiyer turned on his heels and began to march towards the trees. The excess blanket trailed behind him like an overly long cape. Jae moved as though to follow, but Keral stopped him by placing his hand in his path. At Jae’s questioning stare, Keral whispered, “Let’s see how far he gets.”

He was nearly two thirds of the way to the nearest tree before his determined pace began to slow and then stopped. Haiyer turned just enough to see if Keral was watching. Seeing that he had the ranger’s attention, Haiyer gave his best pleading pout and made a high-pitched mewling sound.

With a shake of his head, Keral stood. Chuckling, he told the little boy, “Son, one ‘a these days yer gonna have to learn to take a piss all on yer own.”

“I know how!” Haiyer asserted vehemently as Keral approached. In a smaller, less assured, voice he admitted, “But I don’t want to.”

Keral gathered up the boy and blanket before making his way to the shelter of the trees. Farris watched them go with a sigh and shake of his head before turning his attention back to his ward.

“How ye feelin’, Dumplin’?” he asked in a quiet voice.

She wiggled within her blanket, thankful for the warmth. “A little better I think. Just tired.”

“Hm.” Farris did not seem convinced.

Glancing up to meet his eye, she said, “Thank you for coming to get us.”

He snorted a laugh, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “Aye, well I got a wee bit tired of waitin’ fer someone else to go and rescue ye from all the shit ye manage to get yerself into. Gotta tell ye though, lil’un. Startin’ to get old.”

She broke out into a smile, but it quickly faded as guilt welled up. “Sorry you’re stuck out here.”

“A lil’ walking never hurt no one,” Farris assured her. “Could ‘a timed it better though. After that smokey bastard crashin’ the party last night, everyone was convinced he’d been the one to grabbed ye. The King and yer Mum were just about ready to send out the army.”

Nenani’s eyed widened in alarm and she tried to sit up. “What?”

He coaxed her back down with his hand. “Don’t get too excited now. I’m sure Maevis’ll have told him all that happened. So the sooner we can get a message back to ‘em the better.”

“Warren wouldn’t really send the army out,” Jae remarked, but as he said it, he looked unsure. “Would he?”

“Can’t rightly say. He was livid when they found all ye missin’,” Farris told him frankly. “Chewed out the guards, chewed out Rheil, and Lolly said he was even throwin’ stuff.”

Jae looked very nervous and uncomfortable. “How long do you think it’ll take to get back?”

“Wrong one to ask, lad,” Farris replied. “My work’s in the kitchen. All this out here is Keral’s territory. But if we do find one ‘a these lord’s estates or lodges or whatever the fuck they have out here, it won’t be longer to get a message to His Majesty. If only to let ‘im know yer alright.”

“Was Mama mad too?” Nenani asked.

Farris shrugged. “Couldn’t say. Wouldn’t be surprised to find a few bits a furniture were turned into charcoal, though.”

………………………………..

Within the hour, they were moving. Jae was settled away inside Keral’s pack while Haiyer hitched a ride inside his large breast pocket. Farris made room inside his own pack for Nenani to lay down and rest. The sway of his gait easily lulled her into a dreamless sleep. When she opened her eyes, feeling more like herself, it did not seem as though she had been asleep for very long. Her side was sore from where she laid against her dagger, but the pulling weight of fatigue was gone and replaced by a dull ache in her belly. She had only nibbled on the apples Bertol had doled out to them and now she was properly hungry.

Farris had left the top flap unbuckled and slivers of day light shone through the gaps. The swaying of the pack made getting to her feet tricky, but once she got a good hold of the top ridge she managed to hold herself up. Pushing aside the top flap, Nenani poked her head out into the crisp mid-morning air. The sun was further up in the sky, but not quite directly above them yet.

“I promise you Keral on my life,” Jae was saying with real vehemence. He too was standing inside the pack with the flap pushed aside. “The lyric goes ‘and I’ll be gone by morning,’ not ‘I’ll be fine by morning.’”

“Hm,” Keral hummed in consideration. “Might be. Still like the other version better.”

Jae sighed dramatically and flopped over the ranger’s shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

Farris laughed. “No use tryin’, lad. That one’ll never admit to bein’ wrong.”

Keral turned to glower at his brother. “Me? Yer one to talk. I’ve met tax collectors more reasonable then yer moody arse.”

“Like to see how much ‘a yer manners ye manage to hold onto with my work load,” Farris shot back and then added, “And they’re paid more.”

“Ah, I’m sure yer justly compensated,” Keral told his brother and then under his breath, muttered, “ye kitchen gremlin.”

“Heard that,” Farris growled.

“Well, good to know yer hearin’ is still good.”

“If that was yer attempt at callin’ me old,” Farris replied with an unamused stare, “maybe ye need remidin’ that I’m only three hours older then ye.”

“And what a world of difference those three hours make,” Keral quipped with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Come off it,” scoffed Farris, but the edges of his mouth quirked in a suppressed grin.

“Just let me know if ye need a rest, old man,” Keral laughed.

Wordlessly, Farris leaned over and punched Keral’s shoulder. The ranger winced and pulled a pained hiss through his teeth. He rolled the offended shoulder. “I’m tellin’ Ma.”

“Go right ahead,” Farris laughed. “I’ve got three more in reserve from the last few times she begged me to knock some sense into ye.”

“Yer just lucky the lil’uns are here,” Keral warned, but his expression was one of mock anger. “Or I might ‘a said somethin’ unkind.”

Farris chuckled and shook his head. The motion caused him to catch sight of Nenani and he turned to better look at her. “Did our bickerin’ wake ye up?”

“No,” she answered, smiling. Leaning forward to rest her arms over his shoulder, she watched the grass below his feet pass by. “I’m all better now.”

He rumbled approvingly, the sound sending light vibrations through her arms.

Another hour passed easily as they moved through the low rolling hills, and the sparse cloisters of trees began to converge more and more until they faced the treeline of a thick forest.

“This can’t be the north tip of the Blackwoods, can it?” Farris asked, looking to his brother.

“Hm,” Keral hummed as he studied the trees before them and then looked up to mark the sun’s position in the sky. “Don’t think so. That would put us close to the Hoek boarder and Mt. Vehnmir is too far west. No, my best guess is we’re coming up on one of those hunting lodges I mentioned. At least, that’s my hope.”

“It’d be nice to get a message to the castle by end of day,” Farris remarked.

As the brothers spoke, Nenani took time to study the trees for herself. They were enormous things with their canopies reaching hundreds of feet above their heads. Though the season had robbed them of their leaves, the remaining branches jutted out every which way, with the smaller twigs spider-webbing out and mingling with those of the trees around them. The early morning fog that had dissipated with the climbing sun still clung to the inner pathways by virtue of the spindly canopy above, resulting in an eerie and ominous sight.

“Are we going through?” Nenani asked.

“Well, that’s the question,” Keral replied. “Do we go through or walk around? There’s no real way of knowing from where we are. There’s dangers to traveling through open land. No cover, for one. But that also means ye tend to see anyone trying to come up on ye. Most of the time, at least. In a forest, ye have more cover. But less of a chance at seein’ someone tailin’ ye.”

“What about walking around?” Nenani suggested, though even as she said it, she felt it was a silly question.

“Walking around might cost us a day, going through may only save us an hour. No way of knowin’ right now.”

“What would you do?” Jae asked the ranger. “If it was just you on patrol?”

“Me? Forest,” Keral asked, briefly glancing at Jae before turning his gaze back to the trees. “More resources, more cover.”

“Seems like we have our answer then,” Jae said simply.

Keral looked to Farris. “Ye agree?”

“If this is a lord’s land,” Farris began, his expression serious. “We could end up walkin’ right into a hunting party and risk earnin’ an arrow in our hides.”

“Ye ever been on a hunt with a noble, Farris?” Keral asked.

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Farris replied wryly.

“They ain’t quiet affairs,” he explained. “Loud horns, squires whackin’ at bushes, and hollerin’ tryin’ to scare any game out into the open. We’ll hear any hunting party long before we come upon ‘em. And the season’s over fer that sort of sport. The lord’s still likely to be at the castle or on his way to his home estate. We’d be dealin’ with his resident staff.”

Farris considered this for a few moments and then nodded. “If there’s a chance goin’ through saves us a few miles, I agree. We should take it. Sooner we get these three back home, the better.”

Keral nodded. “I agree.”

Nenani kept quiet as they approached the tree line, all the while eyeing the skeletal branches above with growing unease. She could not explain exactly the reason for it, but she felt as though they were being watched.

And that they were distinctly unwelcomed.

BONUS ART:

#DUMPLING #Giant/tiny #G/t story #g/t writing #g/t #Nenani #Jae #Haiyer #Farris #Keral

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laadgovernorandsankadevi · 3 years

Text

IPK Rewatch: EP 02; the dori breaks

and so it begins!! The first meeting, the divine stars have intervened. Devi Mayyian watched over as Khushi drove away on the stolen scooter and just as she pulled her dupatta feeling his gaze over her, she slips and falls in the arms of her rajkummar.

Every single interaction between them, it's Khushi who breaks away or walks away. Every single one. She is the one to break the bubble by stepping back or wanting to break away from his grip. He doesn't let her go right away as she squirms and him pulling her back into his arms for that brief second as he takes all of her in, makes her realise her hand on his collar which the moment she removes he pushes her off him. I think bitwa realised what happened to him. He was angry alright, but this girl stirred something the moment he saw her and her trying to break free away from him, a man who girls flock after; he is not going to take these feelings lightly. I think he realised what happened when snapped at her taking her hand off his collar.

Khushi stands scared. Whether any feelings in her have risen or not, she was scared and nervous to begin with and it's clear that the way this man stared at her was not how men should be looking at anyone for that matter. The guards take her away from the premises but not without her dupatta falling off and landing at his feet.

I always found the Khushi's dupatta a character of it's own. Dupatta means a lot to south asian women. Hell I would say that when I find myself wearing a 6ft fabric around me, the realisation of what this garment means symbolically and what it communicates about my character to style is not something that can be a joke. For a girl like Khushi, the dupatta is a symbol is respect and how funny and ironic it is that the man who in next few seconds will declare his control over her life will be the one to return/restore the respect he tried time and time again to disapprove about her to himself. The dupatta under his feet, falling by his feet is such a big deal. But also I feel this moment signifies that Devi Mayyian did sent Arnav as Khushi's protector. If Arnav has been provided with the power and ability to choose his interpretation of what her clutching her dupatta means, then he is also the only one whose treatment of her dupatta protects her image and reputation in eyes of others.

The dupatta and the collar are recurring motifs. And beautiful ones at that! There's something that happens to my brown ghairat at the utilisation of these motifs. Maybe internalised sexist rhetoric?

Back at Gupta House, we get a glimpse of Bua ji's displeasure at Khushi's antics and everyone being worried about not being able to find the papers. Payal who had been hoping that Abhishek was unaware about the dowry, at finding out he's said nothing to defend the Guptas or his to-be wife, finds herself more upset. Meanwhile Garima figures out the connection between Khushi's absence and the mortgaged papers missing.

All while Khushi is being interrogated. In all honesty, I would be hella sus of Khushi being somewhere and ruining a major multi-million company's event. I tried listening multiple times but Barun really used to mumble a lot of dialogues on the beginning. He mumbles the name of a rival fashion house which the nosy person in me wanted to know!

When Arnav takes the first step forward, Khushi doesn't step back but it's from his second step forward that she starts taking a step back. A precedent is set between these two and the progression of their relationship with one taking a step forward, another taking a step back. Khushi doesn't willingly stop taking steps back until after Shyam's revelation. I think it also tracks Khushi's relationship with Arnav's anger. If Khushi's personality and actions give Arnav a reason to start falling for her or allow himself to trust his feelings for her, then none of anything that Arnav does ever allows Khushi to move past the confusion of having feelings for him. She is instead troubled at the aspect of liking someone she's doing her level best to hate.

In first 15 mins of the second episode, we get everything that's going to be the foundation. Arnav always being the one to catch Khushi, the collar, the dupatta, and the bubble which evolves into Rabba Ve, and the steps. I think this is the one of the reasons the initial episodes are beautiful and grip you. The show doesn't waste time in establishing the thesis of their relationship. We slowly start exploring their characters but the relationship, that's what all of this is about.

Sanaya literally looked like a goddess in this episode I swear. The make up is perfect, her face looks perfectly angelic and stands out in contrast to Barun's intense presence. the glowy backdrop of the make up room with mirrors and lights provides a perfect backdrop for who both of them are as people. Arnav being extraordinary and grandeur. Khushi being the source of light.

With Arnav narrating about aukat and wealth, Khushi's expression changes and she refers to caring about family members. She's here because of her sister. Eventually Khushi lands up in Shantivan because of his sister. If money is a motivator to regain the Malik's lost respect and turn them into Raizadas, the money is also something that Arnav equates with respect. He is after all still standing in Sheesh Mahal, and money along with respect was what he lost the day him and his sister were kicked out. He had to rely on Mami's assistance eventually to be able to build up a strong investment portfolio and a fashion house.

I also think Arnav used wealth and class as a reason to provoke Khushi. There are two types of people in middle class or lower classes. Those who take pride in their ability to not ask for help and earn their way through life, and those who would do anything for money. Funny how the damad of Malik's daughter is the one whose a gold digger.

But what is something poor girls have to prize more than their being? Their respect. And at the mention if his sister who Khushi made an assumption of existing, he is compelled to destroy everything about her.

badtamizi pe tou mein Abhi aya nahi hoon.

The way this show turned the dori and dupatta into a motif of what they actually are is beautiful to me. There's nothing romantic about preserving respect and dignity, but there is something powerful in someone's ability to be able to do so. Arnav ripping apart the pearls and having them scatter symbolises how his presence took the innocence away. From the release of this clip, there is no moment where Khushi's character doesn't come under question by either Arnav or Shyam. The pearl dori breaking also starts Arnav's journey of walking a path where he had to be apologise. He is going to be living with this guilt for at least the entirety of the year.

Back at Gupta House, everyone is concerned for Khushi except for Bua ji, who is definitely the one more concerned about appearances than Garima. Perhaps because for Garima, her husband is still present besides her. As much as I hate prioritising of appearances and the shame-based social approach of brown communities, it is something that unfortunately exists and our narratives exist within the existence of socially acceptable appearances.

Payal whose been asked concisely about Khushi doesn't budge but she decides to say something with her father returning. Perhaps because she also realises that the way she loves Khushi unconditionally and considers her as her closet confidant, Babuji also is accepting and understanding of Khushi's intentions even if they revert to a mistake. Payal's displeasure at Abhishek not speaking up for her also helps in being happy at Khushi's return and aiding Khushi afterwards as much as she could.

Shashi who had been apprehensive about dowry to begin with is relieved to see Khushi safe and sound, Garima who was adding by the norms of how girls family should behave was disappointed beyond words, and Bua ji was just straight up angry. I think Bua ji is the only character who despite loving Khushi, displays the bias in how she considers Payal to be perfect and Khushi to be imperfect.

While Khushi provides the explanation about going to meet the not-hone-wale jija ji, we do get an insight into why despite Manorama's objections and her own reservation on class issues, Payal agrees for Akash. Because Akash is honest about his feelings and about all that he hopes to provide. I have to say, the Gupta sisters have a really low bar for their men after having Shashi as a father. But honestly, don't we all just settle at crumbs half the time? It's truly a shame. -- Khushi admits her mistakes unless she's challenged or dared. and she doesn't hesitate in apologising except from Arnav. Khushi apologising is almost a norm for her character however Khushi apologising Arnav is not going to be one. I find that juxtaposition of how Khushi treats Arnav and him wanting apologies to be extremely hilarious! She forgives his gravers mistakes but not anything menial.

mat kaho humme amma!

oh, how it breaks Khushi's heart! Khushi is wholly accepted into her family even by Bua ji; so on the two occasions when she is reminded of her orphaned status, it crumbles her entire world. After all, she went to see Abhishek, Junior Engineer who wanted dowry for her step sister. She crosses over boundaries for those she loves and her family members are the people she repeatedly crosses these boundaries and social conventions for. Also in both the instances of Khushi being reminded about her orphaned status, Shashi and Payal are more understanding despite their disappointment or pain. They truly love Khushi whole-heartedly and perhaps unconditionally which is something that surprisingly Arnav does too even though the first marriage between the two was on the terms and conditions laid out by Arnav driven by his interpretation of Khushi’s betrayal.

The episode ends with Khushi opening up the sweet shop after being unable to sleep. I love the moonlight on both the girls face. It symbolises their inner turmoil and distress. With the divine clock on, the journey to rediscover themselves and them in love is going to rule the hearts of Gupta sisters.

#endlessly rewatching ipkknd #ipkknd 10 year rewatch #10 years of IPKKND #ipkknd #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #arnav and khuhsi #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #arhi #arshi

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crewhonk · 4 years

Text

Only Happy Accidents (10)

Summary: It’s wedding day!

Warnings: Wedding Nerves, Mentions of grieving, emotional declarations, little Stevie is a naughty boy at the end

Words: Lots

Only Happy Accidents Masterlist

_______________________

You Matter To Me— Sara Barielles ft. Jason Mraz

June 24th, Week 36, Wedding Day

YN woke with a jolt, fingers pressed to her side where her baby had gotten their foot stuck between her ribs. She was sure there would be a bruise blossoming soon enough, and she had only wished that Bucky’s theory about the baby being like Steve in the forties was true. However, that didn’t seem to be the case— the closer they got to the due date, the stronger the baby got and the bigger YN grew. YN was so large, that at this point, Pepper had asked if it was two babies instead of one, and much to Steve and YN’s relief, they were pleased to find out that it was, in fact, just one child.

Steve shifted on the bed next to her, arms slapping the bed until it found YN’s shoulder and hummed, stroking her skin with his thumb gently.

“You ‘kay?” He murmured, still half asleep. “So far. C’mere.” He grumbled, trying to pull YN closer.

“I’m good. Baby just got stuck in moms ribs last night, so mom’s a little sore this morning.” YN cooed playfully down to her belly, and Steve, as if he had a sixth sense, put his hand over the sore spot on YN’s side and rubbed it absently. He mouthed at the back of her shoulder once he had pulled her closer to him, and she wiggled back into him, sighing as her body seemed to naturally react to his.

“You were a little restless last night, sweetheart. You getting cold feet?” He mumbled jokingly and she scoffed.

“About our wedding today? No. More cold feet about having Natasha plan our wedding though— I have no idea what to expect.” YN laughed, shifting onto her back and looking up at her Steve, curling her arm around his head and scratching his scalp as he kissed her collarbone.

“Hey, we got to pick the wedding song and cake, and you got to pick the dress, so as long as you meet me at the altar today, I don’t care if a mime officiates the whole thing. I’ll consider it a perfect day.” He smiled and she rolled her eyes and snorted. “But seriously, you okay?”

“I’m okay,” she replied, remembering that nothing could get past Steve Rogers. “I had a few nightmares last night, though.”

“About?”

“Well, since we haven’t gone officially public, which I still think is hilarious, I had a dream where press helicopters and paparazzi swarmed us and I couldn’t get to you no matter how hard I tried, and every time I almost got to your hand, the dream restarted. Then, I finally got to you and someone objected when the whole ‘stand now or forever hold your peace’ part rolled around and you killed them.” Steve smirked and nodded, and pulled the sheets over their heads, creating a safe little cocoon as he kissed her soundly.

“I’d make sure I got to you first and I’m pretty sure the second bit won’t happen today— there’s only like, thirty people coming. You got nothing to worry about today, my wife.” He hummed and YN smiled.

“Borat?” YN asked, cocking her head and making Steve frown.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She snorted and kissed him again. “Anyways, I’ll always make sure I hold your piece, Husband.” She hummed, sneaking her fingertips under the waistband of his boxers and feeling his stomach shudder as her fingers glided through the hair on his pubic bone. Just as she wrapped her hand around the base of his hot, half-hard cock, the sound of a bedroom door slammed open and something like confetti poppers exploded.

“WEDDING DAY!!!” Three unmistakable voices screamed, and Steve sat right up, shielding YN with his body— sudden loud noises (no matter what they were) never worked well for Steve.

“Oh, it’s you guys.” He said, disappointment unmistakable in his voice.

“‘Oh, it’s you guys,’ he says, disappointed that his fiancee couldn’t finish his hand job. Put your dick away!” Sam whined, and YN grunted, pulling her hands from Steve’s body and sitting up, running a hand through her messy bed hair.

“Dick is away. Why are you guys here so damn early?” She moaned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she looked at the clock— 8:00 am.

“You get married in four hours, and we have to start getting you ready.” Natasha chirped, skipping over to YN and pulling her up much to the couples annoyance. Natasha pulled a hoodie and sweatpants from Steve’s drawers and tossed them at her, and all parties watched as she hopped into the clothes. She turned just as she went to leave the room and skipped over to Steve, reaching over him, grabbing her phone and wallet and planting a kiss on his lips. The boys hooted and howled and cheered as YN cradled his face in her hands. She straddled him to the best of her ability, but with an eight month belly, she did the best she could, licking at his bottom lip and running her hands through his hair to make sure he looked thoroughly snogged. She pulled back, and took in the sight under her— at his flushed cheeks, and his messy hair, his swollen lips and bright eyes and nodded.

“See you at the altar, handsome.” She winked, a thrill shooting through her body as she rolled off of him and landed as gracefully on the floor as she could. Her own face heated up as she felt his hand smack her butt and she shot back a glare as she left the room.

“You stole my line!” He shouted after her, and she left the apartment with Natasha and a laugh.

Back upstairs, the boys turned back to Steve with smirks and raised eyebrows.

“What?” Steve smirked sheepishly, scratching the back fo his neck and bending his legs to hide the tent that would otherwise be prominent.

_________________________

“Turn to Stone”— Ingrid Michaelson

The girls arrived at Peppers cabin and YN was immediately handed a blindfold that read ‘bride’.

“What’s this?”

“I don’t want the venue to be spoiled. Put it on and I’ll take you upstairs.” Natasha demanded, and not wanting to deny her her day, YN listened and trusted that Natasha wouldn’t throw her down the stairs as they made their way up to Peppers spare room.

When YN was able to take off her blindfold she discovered that the spare room was less of a spare room and more of a fitting room decked out for a queen. There was a snack bar beside the bathroom door, soft fabrics and rugs thrown across the floor and around the pedestal in font of a huge mirror which had YN’s beautiful, stunning wedding dress hanging from. YN gasped and clutched her necklace when she noticed that the hangar read ‘Mrs. Rogers’. Her knees went weak, and Natasha, the woman who noticed everything, held her up and smiled.

“Like it?”

“Natasha. This is— this is amazing I can’t—“ YN gasped, complying with Natasha and sitting in the white armchair in front of a makeup desk. Natasha grabbed her a bottle of water and all the medication she would need and waited and watched as YN took it all.

“This is your day, YN and you’re family. This is what we do for family.” A new voice, Pepper Potts sounded from the doorway. The mini version of Ton Stark popped her head around her moms legs and upon realizing she could finally enter the forbidden-wedding-room, skipped in and climbed onto YN’s lap.

“We’re going to make you a princess today!” She cheered and YN gasped, squeezing the little girls waist and making her squeal with joy.

“But what about you? There can’t be more than one princess!” She played along, and Morgan looked genuinely offended at her words.

“Then you can be queen! Like Elsa!” She demanded and YN laughed, wiping the food from Morgans cheek she had apparently been eating only moments before and kissing her nose.

“As long as I have my Anna by my side.” She smiled and Morgan nodded eagerly.

“Duh!”

___________________

Both Michaela and YN’s mother arrived soon, and soon enough, the preparations had begun. YN hadn’t had much of a breakfast— the combination of nerves and a hyperactive baby making her slightly nauseous (very nauseous), so it was between layers of moisturizer and foundation that she was able to take nips of fruit and bread— the craving of the day, hot Cheetos in ketchup— was immediately banned upon the mention of it by a slightly crazed-looking Natasha Romanoff.

“That! Is not happening! There is too much white in this room!”

Michaela had immediately taken to YN’s hair, and after seeing a few pictures shown by Natasha, she nodded and began to work quickly. YN and her mother chatted idly— not having much to talk about since they’d been distanced since her father had passed, but managing nevertheless. Pepper fixed YN’s makeup up— light and airy, she had said. There was only a light layer of foundation, and it was a glowy, healthy look set with mattifying spray— something that would reduce shine but keep the look.

The four hours passed too quickly, and soon, The dress was being pulled from its hangar and YN was being helped out of her sweater and pants— both being moved carefully to mind the bump, makeup and hair.

The dress was lighter than YN remembered— the fabric cool on her hot skin, and flaring over her bump. Despite the looseness of the fit, YN couldn’t help but feel sexy— the slim, but plunging neckline mirroring the wide and plunging back. The star patterns in the fabric glinted in the light, and when she turned around, the four women gasped and Morgan cheered loudly.

“Princess! Princess! Princess!” She began to chant, and soon, the four grown women joined in, tears streaming down their own faces as they clapped and jumped excitedly. They crowded around her and fussed, adding final touches and chirping to each other and cooing over how genuinely perfect YN looked. Soon, she was coasted into the view of the mirror, and YN couldn’t even recognize herself if she tried.

Her skin looked fresh and perfectly toned— body shimmer making her have a glow that radiated from the inside. Her hair was shining and healthy in the natural light streaming through the curtains, and the dress— oh, the dress. It looked as if it was made for her by the Gods themselves.

There was a hush as YN’s mother took the veil and clipped it in her half-up half-down hair, fanning it around and YN stared at herself— in complete awe at what these women had helped her become. She was so lost in the patterns of the dress and her skin that YN couldn’t help but jump at the sound of the door opening and closing.

She turned quickly to find Bucky staring at her and shaking his head, an awed smile on his face.

“Wow. That Rogers guy is one lucky man.” He commented, walking over to the podium and helping YN off of it, kissing her forehead and pulling away, looking her up and down and shaking his head. “You don’t even look like the same person from this morning.”

“Is he here?” YN blurted, flushing bright red. She could have asked what he was doing here, or if the fact that she looked different from this morning was a good or bad thing, but all she could think about was the fact that Steve may or may not be here, right now. In the suit and tie she would be marrying him in.

“He is. And, YN YLN, I have never, in all my 100 years of knowing the guy, ever seen him look so excited or happy. You are his soulmate, he’s yours and— I’m just so happy that you came into his life. He loves you more than anything in this world, and believe me when I say it’s not just about the baby. You have him wrapped around your finger and he wants to live there.” He said, tears filling his eyes. “Thank you, YN YLN. For making my best friend the happiest man on Earth.”

YN looked up at Bucky— his smooth hair tied into a neat bun, and his bright blue eyes shining and happy and his scruffy cheeks pulled back in a wide, happy grin— and sniffed, her chin wobbling.

“Nope!” Natasha chirped, voice thick with emotion of her own. “Get out, you can’t make her cry!” Bucky resisted Natasha’s pushing, and tried his best to not feel horrendously fazed by the daggers shooting from her eyes.

“I can’t do that.” Bucky smiled, wiping his eyes.

“Why not?” Natahsa glared, resting her fists on her hips and tapping her foot. In tandem with the light blue bridesmaid dress, her hair and expression looked fiery and dangerous and it shot a thrill through even YN’s body.

“Because it’s time.”

__________________

“Keep Breathing”— Ingrid Michaelson / “Little Wonders”— Rob Thomas

YN and Bucky stood facing the back door— the windows were covered by a half-sheer white curtain, something just enough for the crowd to see the silhouettes of the people behind it, but not enough for details. Bucky was waiting for Sam and Michaela to get down to the altar before he opened the door, and as he did, he looked down at the woman who was going to marry his best friend.

“You ready?” He whispered and YN took a huge breath, digging her fingernails into her palms and shifting her weight from one foot to the next.

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around what’s about to happen.” She whispered, voice shaking.

“What’s that?”

“Well, I’m about to marry the old Captain America, the Winter Soldier, the new Captain America and the Black Widow are standing for us, and half the crowd has either saved the planet on more than one occasion or are from literal space. I feel like I’m going to wake up any second from the craziest dream in the world.” She rushed and Bucky snorted, unfurling her hands and holding them in his own. He could hear the chittering of the crowd outside, but he wouldn’t start walking until he knew YN would be sure to follow. Throughout the wedding process and learning more about her and watching Natasha struggle and stress over planning, YN had managed to worm a comfortable place in his heart.

“When you say it like that—“ He joked and watched as a sheepish smile found its place on YN’s face. “It’s time.” He whispered and YN sucked in a huge breath and nodded, steeling herself for the long walk she would have to take by herself. Bucky, sensing her apprehension stopped from opening the doors and entering himself, taking her hands once again.

“You gettin’ cold feet, Doll?” He half-joked. While he did like YN quite a bit, he wasn’t sure he was too ready to drive the get away car for her yet.

“I just—“ YN said, voice quivering with emotion. “I just imagined this day going so differently. Don’t get me wrong! I love that I’m marrying Steve and that I’m having his baby soon it’s just— I wanted my dad to walk me down the aisle. He was my best friend and he talked about him walking me down and what song we would dance to for the father-daughter dance and— I don’t know. I don’t know if I can do this without him by my side.” She sniffed and Bucky, knowing just how it felt to not have your loved ones by your side, wiped her tears and offered a smile once she met his eyes again.

“I’m sorry I—“

“Let me walk you down. I know it’s not ideal— but you’re family, and Steve is my brother and I want you to have someone who loves you by your side the whole day— your day. Will you, YN YLN soon-to-be-Rogers, do me the honour of letting me walk you down the aisle and give you away to Steve.” He said, eyes kind but overwhelmingly serious, as if this was the most important thing to him.

YN tried to quell the rise of tears from her eyes and her chin wobbled dangerously as she nodded. He gave her his most charming grin as he took her hand and looped it around his arm, squeezing her hand before raising his other hand to wrap around the handle of the door.

“You good to go?”

“Don’t let me fall, Barnes.” YN said, voice shaking.

“I got you, Kid.” He replied, and twisted the handle, pushing both doors open and leading YN out to the backyard. The swell of the wedding march sounded, and the crowd gasped, upon seeing YN and Bucky together. He lead her across the porch and down the steps and his eyes flicked up to Steve who seemed to be holding back from either crying, throwing up, or sprinting off the altar to sweep YN into his arms. Bucky looked down at YN who seemed to be focussed on her feet. He squeezed her arm, and leaned in to whisper into her ear.

“Look up.”

And when she did, Bucky could see YN’s world shift. Her steps were slightly quicker, and her eyes shined in the afternoon sun, and the death grip on his forearm loosened until he was afraid she would pick up her skirts and sprint to Steve, which he thought would be rather amusing.

YN couldn’t breathe— she wanted to be in Steve’s arms and to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks and kiss him until either one of them passed out. The world around her seemed to fade away to nothing— the edges of her vision whiting out until the only thing she could see was Steve. He looked impossibly thick and long in his black suit, his shaking hands clasped in front of him, and she couldn’t help the smile spread across her face when she noticed he was bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly. She felt wholly in this moment, and yet, felt as if she was hyper aware of the world. She could feel the deer on the other side of the lake moving, and she could hear the birds chirping and fish jumping in the lake, and she could feel the wind on her skin and the heat of the sun, and if she could pick one moment to live in for the rest of her life, it would be this one.

Finally, she looked up at his face, and the breath was stolen from her lungs at the smile on his face.

‘I love you,’ he mouthed, as she grew closer and she winked.

‘I love you.’ She replied.

Eventually— in a combination of too soon and not soon enough, YN and Steve’s hands are being joined by Bucky, and YN could barely hear anything the priest was saying— his voice a distant drone as she stared into the deep blue and green of Steve’s eyes— memorizing every emotion and colour and solidifying the memory of this day and how his gaze on her face made her feel.

He blinked, and tears spilled from his eyes, and YN breathed out a laugh, pulling her hands from his and wiping them away with her thumbs. She let her touch linger for a mere second and hurriedly re-joined their hands when the priest cleared his throat. It was another five minutes before Steve squeezed her hands and she blinked out of her reverie.

“Huh?” She uttered and flushed with embarrassment when the crowd chuckled fondly.

“The vows.” Steve whispered and YN’s eyes widened.

“Oh. Uh— yeah.” She commented and Steve chuckled and smiled at her— all of the love in the world in his eyes. “Steve. I was trying to figure out what I was supposed to say in these vows, and usually, vows would start with something like ‘since the day that I met you, I knew you were the one’, but our love wasn’t like that. We started it backwards, and it was slow, and awkward but so fast and natural at the same time. Our love is scary, and bigger than us and a year ago, I couldn’t have pictured that my life would be the way it is now. It’s filled with so much joy, and so much laughter and comfort and thrill and it’s so overwhelming to the point of me wanting to scream off the rooftops so that the whole city can have a taste of how much I love you. I will love you for the rest of time, Steve Rogers, and we have so much of it and I can’t wait to get started.”

Steve let out a choked sob through his smile, and wiped his eyes again with the back of his hands, joining them and raising YN’s knuckles to press against his lips.

“I met you, Yn YLN, while you were wearing a sexy pirate number on Halloween night. YN, you’ve added an excitement and thrill to my life that I have never had— something I tried to find saving the world or hiding from it. You’ve given me a purpose that can’t be fulfilled through a job— a purpose without an end. You’ve given me a purpose of love, and devotion, and a purpose to make your heart beat fast and your stomach flip and if we get to fall even more in love along the process then I’m excited for it. My love and purpose for you are bottomless, and you’ve taken my life in your hands and flipped it into something softer, and warmer and into something that I am proud to live. Loving you is the new purpose you’ve given me and I will thank you for it for the rest of my days.” YN could hear the sounds of people blowing their noses and sniffling and YN looked up, tears leaking from the outside corners of her eyes as she let out a shaking breath.

“Shit.” YN cursed, smiling up at Steve who was mirroring her shaking shoulders.

“Would the ring bearess please bring the rings?” The priest called, voice warm and soft. YN turned her head away from Steve for the first time since the ceremony had begun to watch Morgan slowly walk up to the altar, seemingly balancing two gold bands on one light blue pillow, despite the fact that they were tied with ribbon. He little tongue was poked out the side fo her mouth and her brow was furrowed in concentration until she reached YN and Steve who bent over and untied the rings, thanking Morgan with kisses and words and rising again to face each other.

“Do you, YN YMN YLN, take Steven Grant Rogers to be your lawfully wedded husband, until the day you die?”

“I do.”

Steve took YN’s hand in his own warmer one, and slid the band on her left ring finger, raising it to his lips to seal the promise of his love with a kiss, making YN’s heart flutter in her chest with the love she had for him.

“Do you, Steven Grant Rogers, take YN YMN YLN to be your lawfully wedded wife, until the day you die?”

“I do.”

YN sniffed, and took Steve’s left hand in her own, and with shaking fingers, slid the ring on, mimicking his actions and kissing his knuckle, watching in glee as his cheeks flushed even redder than they already were.

“Then by the power vested in me, by the grace of God and the state of New York, I declare you YN and Steven Rogers! You may now kiss the bride.”

And Steve, evil glint in his eye, took YN’s waist in his hands, and swept her in a circle before dipping her low to the ground and planting his lips on hers through a toothy grin and elated giggles from his beautiful wife.

And, as Steve grabbed his wife’s hand and lead her down the aisle— her bouquet raised in the hair and as rice was thrown over their heads Steve Rogers swore he could never be happier than he was in this very moment.

___________________

“Lover”— Taylor Swift

“Please welcome, for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Steve Rogers!” With a flourish of white and blue curtain, YN and Steve Rogers stepped out into the back yard, and gasped. The backyard had been changed from a summer camp cabin yard to an elegant shot from some romance movie. Fairy lights were strung from the tree to the edge of the deck roofing, and blue and white flowers were strung between them. The soft branches fo the willow tree were also weaved through the strings of the lights, giving the yard a sort of roofing structure which allowed the brightness fo the moon and stars to still be shown. Glowing warm lights were posted at every table and around the perimeter of the space, and frankly, YN had never seen anything quite like it.

“Steve.” YN could only utter, and he squeezed her arm as if to say ‘I know’. He lead her through the clapping guests and up to the main table where they sat in the middle, with Natasha, Sam, Michaela and Bucky on either side of them. Without even having the chance to ask when the food would be served (YN was starved, and so was baby), caterers swept out from the house and down the stairs to elegantly place soup and salad and bread in front of them.

The entire meal moved like this— entrees and meals served between speeches from friends and family— even Morgan had lamented about how much the Princess YN deserved a special day like this, and how she truly looked like royalty in the dress Uncle Bucky had chosen for her. Sam, already drunk rambled about how much Steve deserved this and in the same breath, exposed every embarrassing thing Steve had done when he was seemingly alone. YN had cried laughing at that speech, and Steve looked between murderous and amused when Sam had told the entire crowd that Steve had waterboard himself on more than one occasion— the first time being ‘I wanted to see what it felt like’, the second time he had the hiccups and followed Natasha’s orders to drink water from the other side of the glass to quell them, and the third time was when Steve was watching cartoons and was too lazy to move from his upside down position on the couch to take a drink of water.

“You are too cute for your own good, Rogers.” YN giggled in his ear, drunk off joy and the energy of the crowd.

Finally the meals ended, and the tables were cleared and pushed into the periphery of the yard— far enough fr the thirty guests to dance, but close enough to fall into at a moments notice.

“I think this is our queue,” Steve mumbled and offered his hand which his wife smiled graciously and took, letting him lead her to the centre of the dance floor. While she knew Steve would have appreciated something slow, both YN and Natasha were thrilled with the final choice of song for the first dance.

Steve spun her slowly into his arms as the slow guitar and bass filled the yard and swayed gently as Taylor Swift’s voice crooned the words to “Lover”.

‘Have I known you 20 seconds, or 20 years.’

Steve huffed a laugh at the lyric, smiling down at his beautiful wife and pressing his forehead against hers.

“Have I told you how breathtaking you are today?” He murmured and YN snorted, pressing as close to him as her bump would allow.

“Once or twice.” She replied, smiling up at him, and she swore the gold light of the candles and firelight made his skin glow and his eyes the deepest blue she’d ever seen. The eyes which had seen so much trauma and bad were so soft on her, taking in every speck of glitter and every bit of blush and every freckle which poked through the thin later of makeups he was wearing.

The wold seemed far away as the two swayed together, simply trying their best to live in the moment and in each other.

‘I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.’

“I love you, Steve Rogers. Never thought I could be this happy again.” YN whisered, her hand curling through his dark blonde hair curled at the base of his neck. He grinned and bent down, pressing his soft lips against hers and drinking her in, running his tongue on her bottom lip to remember her taste. He pulled away and she laughed, thumbing the pink lipstick off of his mouth before kissing it once more.

“I’m happy we feel the exact same way.” He replied, placing his forehead on hers and rubbing his nose against hers. Their lips barely brushed as they shifted around the room once more.

The world came back to them soon enough with the sound of whistles and applause, and both YN and Steve blushed happily— not int he shame of being caught or exposed for their love, but for the fact that their love was so accepted and celebrated and it was almost overwhelming to see how happy their love made other people— let alone themselves. Finally— after seemingly waiting a lifetime, Steve and YN’s left ring fingers glinted the light as they were raised to the stars in celebration— never straying too far from one another at all.

______________________

“Kiss - recorded at Spotify Studios NYC”— Kelly Clarkson / “Suit & Tie”— Justin Timberlake, JAY-Z

The bouquet had been thrown (Natasha had caught it, Bucky refused to make eye contact), the mead had been poured (Steve’s cheeks were flushed a healthy red, and Thor’s laugh boomed across the yard), the kids were huddled under a table, trying their damndest to stay awake with the snack they’d smuggled with them. Both Michaela and Sam had dissapeared multiple times over the course of the night— both returning seconds apart from one another with messy clothes and swollen lips, and YN had managed to sweep her mother away from Pepper multiple times over the course of the night to dance with her the way they used to in the kitchen, only to be interrupted by Steve who would wink at you and take your mothers hand. Morgan had graciously saved you from dancing alone after those incidents— both of you jumping up and down excitedly. Shoes and jackets were thrown haphazardly over table and chairs and drinks lay on their sides, long forgotten.

Finally, the final event of the evening before people were allowed to disappear from the venue was called— the garter toss.

“Would the groom and bride please return to the dance floor, please and thank you!” YN broke away from Pepper and her mom to the sound of Sams voice singing across the yard. In the middle of the dance floor were two things that made YN’s blood rush eagerly.

A wooden chair. And Steve Rogers, smiling mischievously at her.

Every time he had caught her eye over the course of the night, she grew more and more dizzy with love and lust for him. It had started when he’d shed his jacket— taught muscles pulling at the white fabric of his shirt, and his hair grew more and more mussed up the more he danced and jumped with his friends and wife. At some point, YN and Steve had been dancing, and in an attempt to seduce him, she’d undone his tie and left it there, undoing the top two buttons and kissing the sweaty skin she had revealed.

Another two buttons and come undone since then— and bits of light brown chest hair began to show itself. He extended his hand towards her, and smiled— cheeks flushed bright and eyes shining with joy. YN blushed and walked across the floor to join him, letting him kiss her and place her gently in the chair before he nodded at Sam to start the music. The heady bass made YN’s heart pound as Steve began swaying his hips— the mixture of mead and wedding making him dorky and confident. His long fingers travelled up his chest and threaded another two buttons loose as he sauntered over to YN and turned, swaying his hips and grinding on her lap, making YN shriek with laughter and wipe tears from her eyes. His attempt at sexy was hilarious— and that was one of her favourite parts fo him.

He spun around quickly, falling to his knees in front of her and surging up to kiss her lips before sinking down on his heels and wrapping a hand around her ankle. In front of everyone, he raised her ankle and planted a solid kiss on it, trailing them up her leg as he pushed her dress skirts higher up her body. After they had gotten to above her knee, he winked at her and flipped her skirts over his head, and YN clutched the sides of the chair as the crowd cat called them. She could feel him already working his magic on her skin. He was dragging his beard across her sensitive skin, and soothing the irritation with his lips and tongue. His hands were boiling hot, and his left hand wasted no time in pushing her thighs apart and pressing against the heated cotton of her underwear as his teeth found the fabric of the white garter wrapped around her thigh. YN couldn’t hold back her squeal as Steve pushed her underwear to the side and swiped two fingers up her core, gathering the slick of her pussy just as he began to pull the garter down her leg. He pulled out of the dress quickly, absently flinging it over his shoulder (it slapped pathetically against Bucky’s chest), and while everyone was distracted with the fact that both Natasha and Bucky had caught the omens of the next marriage, Steve raised his two glistening fingers to his lips and sucked them. He leaned over YN and kissed her, and she moaned lightly at the taste of herself on his tongue.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me, Rogers.” YN cursed at him and he winked, only pulling his face inches away from hers.

“Wanna go find a place to make out, Rogers?” He asked, breath smelling of YN and mead and mint, and YN shuddered a breath.

“Yes, please.”

___________________________

Tag List (send me an ask, ONLY. must interact with the fic more than a like): yesfanficsaremylife / notyourtypicalrose / laurxn-robinson / disaster-rose / lille-kattunge / wwecrazed2010 / vxidnik / chewingoffmyfoot/ vitamingrant / captainamericasbeard / chrisgalore / songforhema / mmyepic / multifandommandy / tommyhoe / lostdarksoul6 / crist1216 / taeeemin / jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory / feelmyroarrrr / teller258316 / mrsdeanwinchester19 / qrangr / mariswritingforfun / nerdypinupcrystal / kittycatlover18 / laucontrerasv / printedpeterparker / @dumblani / @captainomad / eversonaive / rainbowkisses31 / i-think-i-am-adorable / rainbowkisses31 / smalltintedgorl / geeksareunique / jennmurawski13 / clutteredmind-emptythoughts / venezuelaanklemayonnaise

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #steve rogers smut #steve rogers series #Steve Rogers drabble #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #Dad!Steve #dad!steve rogers

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pixiegrl · 4 years

Text

I set boundaries for myself (it’s time to cross the line)

So I posted this last night on ao3 and the response from everyone in the club was overwhelming and I’m so happy about that. This is truly the most personal thing I think I’ve written if only because it’s a very specific part of me. Anyway here’s my gift to @bourgeoix and @tigerteeff and like everyone else in the club chat who said they loved it (@reveriesofawriter said it was like reading the color pink and that made me so soft and happy thank you meghna).

ANYWAY, please enjoy

On ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556184

Luke’s never done this before. Well, at least not something of this magnitude before. Luke’s done something close to this before, young and confused, letting Michael talk him into putting on the silky underwear from the women’s section of the store and wearing it during a show on a dare. Luke’s come close to it since then, going into Target to run his fingers over the silk and lace floral underwear there. Buying a pair at the self-checkout, red faced and embarrassed, hoping no one would catch him, famous Luke Hemmings, buying women’s underwear and putting it up in some tabloid. Putting it on in the bathroom of a hotel, admiring how it looked reflected in the mirror, the way they had looked on him, framing him in lace and bows, how soft and right it had felt. Wearing them to shows, award nights, parties, without anyone knowing, private and just for him.

But this? This is different. This was purposeful, something Luke sought out, not just bought on a whim from a store. This was planned.

The boxes are sitting on the middle of the bedspread and Luke’s been staring at it, taking deep breaths and willing himself to get up from the bench at the vanity mirror and go over and open it. He’s been thinking about it since it showed up in the post last week, since he and Ashton created their plan for “date night” to include this. Luke promised Ashton he’d be ready and Ashton should be home in the next hour and Luke still hasn’t moved.

It feels different . Sure, he’s gotten more comfortable in his own self, his own gender. Luke’s less worried when he wears eyeshadow and nail polish that someone will call him names. Let’s himself wear glitter and feel happy doing it. It feels comfortable and freeing, getting to paint himself up without fear of insults. He’s even gotten more comfortable over the years putting on the panties he buys from places like Target, putting them on and sending photos to Ashton, whispering it to him before they go on stage so he can watch the look of hunger and want Ashton gives him. Luke likes feeling pretty and delicate and loved.

But there’s a line that putting on the lingerie would cross and Luke doesn’t know if he’s ready for that. Luke had seen it online, scrolling through Facebook when the ad from Victoria’s Secret had popped up. He’s not even sure why it had shown up, but the lingerie has taken his breath away. A soft lavender and sheer set, bra, panties, and garter belt, covered in delicate embroidered flowers. Swirls of pinks and deep purples and greens, bright on the model’s body. Luke had whined when he’d seen it, overwhelmed with the need to have this lingerie suddenly. It was lovely, soft looking, delicate. Luke’s never been delicate and seeing the lingerie had struck a chord with him. He wanted to be as delicate as the model looked, wrapped up in florals and lace and lavender. Wanted to see what the lace trim of the belt would look like over the panties, if it would make his skin look soft and glowy like the picture.

Luke had been so lost in thoughts of the set, of what he would look like in the set, that he hadn’t noticed Ashton glancing over and seeing the ad. Had asked Luke softly if he wanted it, wanted to wear it, make a night of it. Luke had blushed, saying yes, because he’s learned over the years that he can’t hide many things from his boyfriend, and Ashton had smiled. They’d hunted down a tape measure, measuring Luke and ordering a set for him. Dug around online till they’d found a pair of pale pink stockings and heels to match. Luke had gone in private to the Ulta nearby, bought pink eyeshadow, blush, and purple eyeliner and lipstick to match the little flowers. He’d spent at least an hour making sure the eyeshadow was put on correctly, brushing his eyelids and cheeks in the soft glittery pinks he’d found, carefully drawing on the eyeliner with shaking hands. He’d even gone to the trouble of painting his nails the same shade of delicate pink. Now he just has to put on the lingerie and wait for Ashton.

Luke can’t do it, now that everything is here and waiting for him. Luke’s not delicate, he doesn’t deserve this. He’s tall and broad shouldered, which no one will let him forget. He’s clumsy, cumbersome, and he’s had to shave at least twice to make sure he doesn’t have any hair on his legs or his chest or face. He feels too big, too male, too something and he’s not designed for lingerie, especially not something as lovely as this.

He’s just about ready to get up and shove the stupid box into the closet and call it quits when Ashton texts him. It’s short and quick, telling Luke that he loves him, that he’ll be home soon and a little heart. It’s purple. Luke glances over at the box taking a deep breath. He can do this. He has Ashton. He can do anything.

Luke finally pushes himself up and goes over to the box. He peels back the tissue paper Ashton’s set up and pulls the pieces out. They’re beautiful in person, bright colors and soft to the touch. He lays the pieces out, bra, panties, stockings, and garter belt, and stares down at them. The stockings seem like the safest option to put on. Luke takes them out, holding onto the edges of them, holding them up. They’re soft and sheer, lace trim at the top in looping florals. Luke sucks a breath in and edges the first one up his leg gently.

They go up easy, snug but in a way that feels comfortable, like they’re meant to be that way and not because Luke’s too big, too male for them. The lace hugs at his thighs, soft pink standing out against the pale skin. He feels...beautiful. Luke itches to look in the mirror, to see what he looks like, but is worried that if he looks now, before he’s fully ready it’ll shatter the image and scare him before he finishes.

Before Luke loses his nerve, he picks up the panties and slides them up his legs, hands shaking. They go on easy, fitting him snuggly in a way that holds him up and in place without feeling like the edges are cutting into his legs or hips. He slips the bra on, fumbling with the clasp before getting it clipped. He adjusts the straps, smoothing the fabric down over his chest till it looks perfect. Luke looks down at the bed. The last thing left is the garter belt. He picks up the edges of the thin straps, turning it till he finds what looks like the front and slides it up his legs and snuggly onto his hips, clipping the edges of the straps to the tops of the stockings. It feels easy once it’s all on to put the heels on, to see what it all looks like.

Luke turns to the full length mirror Ashton's bought for the occasion and almost cries when he sees himself. The set fits him, frames him perfectly. He doesn’t feel broad or cumbersome or too big. The garter belt creates the illusion of a waist, narrowing him in a way that feels soft and special. The florals of the bra and panties stand out bright against his skin, framing him in a way that makes him feel close to the soft, dewy, glowing of the model from the picture. The heels make him feel tall and elegant. Even his curls, the highlights of the glitter from the powders cast him in a soft, angelic light. He feels delicate and elegant like this, the lace making him look as soft and feminine as he feels. The edges of the bra, of the panties, of the stockings all frame him in the perfect way.

He just feels right. Not like Luke Hemmings, the boy splashed across the tabloid covers and TV screens and on the internet, where everyone comments on how male he looks and how swoon worthy he is and how handsome. He feels like Luke, Ashton’s Luke, the one who gets to wake up to soft kisses from his boyfriend, who gets to paint his nails, put on glitter, sit around their house in Ashton’s band shirts and lace trimmed panties, getting to cuddle with Ashton for hours as he plays with Luke’s hair, who Ashton calls beautiful and kind and golden. He feels delicate in a way he hasn’t since he was 15 and small, when Ashton towered over him and made him feel protected and loved. Luke just feels like himself, standing here staring at the person reflected back at him.

Luke’s so caught up in the feeling of wonder that he misses the soft sound of the bedroom door opening. He doesn’t even realize Ashton’s there till he hears the soft gasp from the doorway and turns to face Ashton. For a moment he’s worried, afraid that Ashton will see him like this and suddenly decide that it’s too much, that this isn’t the Luke he wants. Luke feels the worry melt away the moment he sees Ashton’s face though, filled with love and adoration. Ashton crosses the room in a matter of steps, wrapping Luke up in his arms, standing on his tiptoes to press soft kisses to Luke’s lips, his cheeks. Luke giggles breathlessly as Ashton grazes his lips over the sensitive parts of Luke’s jawline, whispering barely audible praises into the skin.

Luke pulls back slightly to tilt his head down at Ashton, smiling. Ashton tilts his head back, smiling softly.

“Do you like it, Ash?”

“Sweetheart, you look beautiful,” Ashton whispers, revenant. Luke giggles, feeling his cheeks warm at the praise. Ashton reaches up, brushing a curl back from where it’s fallen into Luke’s eyes and tucking it behind his ear. Luke turns his face into Ashton’s hand, nuzzling lightly into it. Ashton smiles.

“I was worried you wouldn’t like it, wouldn’t like this part of me.”

“Lu, I love you. All the parts of you. Getting to see you happy just makes me happy.”

Luke could cry. He probably would if it wasn’t for the makeup he’s wearing. Somehow this moment feels important, feels more intimate than anything Luke and Ashton have ever done, more intimate than their first kiss, their first time having sex, moving in together. This moment feels like the defining moment of everything and he just feels so loved .

“You’re so golden I almost forget to give you this,” Ashton says, pulling back slightly to show Luke the small bag he’s holding. Luke makes grabby hands, taking it from Ashton as he laughs. It’s from a jewelry store, one they’ve walked by on multiple occasions on their way to their favorite coffee place. Luke opens the box inside and actually tears up when he sees the necklace inside.

It’s a small gold heart on a delicate chain, something Luke’s admired in the window of the store every time they’ve walked by. Luke’s never been brave enough to say anything, to voice his desires out loud, but like the lingerie, Ashton’s just known. Ashton’s always been able to read Luke, in all shapes and ways, and of course Ashton would have realized this.

Luke looks up at Ashton. Ashton’s smiling softly, lovingly at him.

“How did you know?”

“I know you, sugar plum. It just felt perfect”

Luke pulls Ashton back, kissing him deeply. He tries to pour everything he feels into the kiss, the love and acceptance and happiness he feels, threatening to spill out. Ashton takes his face in both hands, kissing him back just as deeply, his own answer to Luke’s unspoken words.

“Put it on me?” Luke whispers, when he pulls back. Ashton nods, taking the box from Luke, pulling the chain out and unclasping it. He wraps it around Luke’s neck, clasping it closed. Luke admires it in the mirror, the glittering of the gold shining against his collarbones.

“I love you,” Luke breathes out to Ashton’s reflection in the mirror. Ashton hooks his chin over Luke’s shoulder wrapping his arms around Luke’s waist, smiling back at Luke’s reflection.

“I love you,” Ashton whispers into Luke’s ear, pressing a kiss to Luke’s shoulder. Luke giggles, melting back into Ashton’s chest. Ashton smiles into Luke’s skin, running his fingers over the edge of the lace on the panties. Luke squirms as Ashton’s finger skim over his skin.

“Do I get to take you to bed and unwrap you?”

“Only if you tell me how much you love me and how pretty I am.”

“For you Lu, I would do anything,” Ashton says, tugging Luke back to the bed. Luke goes easily letting Ashton press kisses to his skin gently. Luke’s never felt so loved and delicate. He feels perfect .

#lashton #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #it's basically just like 2k of luke putting on lingerie and feeling pretty #idk what to say it's just like really special to me #will be writing a sequel to this #my writing

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alias-b · 4 years

Text

sins of my youth. 004

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hello all! Pushing out a baby chapter early so I can focus on my other fic! Thank you so much for the support on this fic. Billy goes to dinner and Tries It. That's the chapter. :D Tag list open!!!

Chapter 4: No Day But Today

“Claudia, do you have the keys?” Mona crossed the salon floor.

“I do, we’re fine here, go on. Dusty is spending the night at the Wheeler’s place. Having some castle and dragons party.” She'd gushed.

“Feel free to close up early if we’re dead the last hour. Thanks, sugar.” Mona patted her back as she followed Evie out the door.

“Can I drive?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.” Mona smiled.

Evie was saving for a car. And college. And her future.

And it was a lot.

Truthfully, she didn’t care for school. It was in the way. Wished her lyrics could carry her straight to the red carpet before all those flashing paparazzi.

Wanting to unwind, Evie hid in her room when she got home. Shut the curtains and prodded at herself before the vanity. Sorted dangly earrings in a mesh metal display. Huffing to lean over when Bourbon swept into her legs. His little body shivered and she plucked him up.

“Okay, BB, you’re my best guy. You can’t let me down.” She scratched under his chin, gave him a little boop on the nose. “You take one look at that walking Def Leppard poster and you hiss and run. Got it?”

A purr.

“Good boy. You’re my only hope here. We can’t lose. Not to Billy Hargrove.” Arms let him down. She'd feel this sentiment often about Billy. A sigh. Evie applied a fresh lip color and paused. “Ugh.” She pushed up and didn’t change. Did her school work to get it out of the way and wandered out, turning the TV on to some game show. The savory smell of dinner wafted. “Need help here, Mom?” One tug and the ceiling fan spun, cycling cooler air.

“No, I have it. You can set the table for me.” Mona drained some noodles.

“Got it.” Plates and cutlery clicked around. Evie slid everything into place, perked up when the doorbell rang. Mona turned and smiled as her daughter adjusted fabric and fixed curls into place all the way to the door.

Evie half expected Billy to not even show. But, there he was. Sly smile and all. Billow of date night cologne. A vision in moonlight.

“Hey.” Evie said slowly. The surprise evident.

“Hey." He mirrored it.

"You're here." An exhale out. He blinked, found himself again.

"I was gonna steal flowers from the old lady’s garden across the way, but there’s a huge opossum in her trash guarding it.” He tilted his head, earring catching the porch light and she cracked a grin.

"Big Ben? Yeah, he's the neighborhood menace. Chief Hopper's nemesis because they get so many calls about it. You'd be a hero if you took him on." Evie persuaded lighter. His face fell.

"I'm not trying to die in Hawkins, Indiana. That thing was bigger than anyone on our football team."

“Color me impressed. King Billy didn’t want to do battle for the first time?” She actually teased him. Her nose crinkled when she smiled. Cute. “Shock and awe.”

Billy felt this tug pulse up his ribcage. Pulled a genuine chuckle from his lips. He had to look away to give it. Glowy in starlight.

“Sometimes I surprise people. I know my weight class and the pests here look like they were grown and mutated in some lab.” He shrugged into the door frame with one fist lifted, clicking his lighter shut. Hooded eyes all over. Evie went still as he leaned forward to her face with his tone lowering. “Am I allowed inside? Pretty please?”

“With cherries on top?" Bright, wet lips parted. His lashes fluttered, a baritone sinking. Bringing her with him.

"With anything your heart desires on top." Smooth.

"Huh. I guess. For now.” Evie stepped out of the way. “We go to school with plenty of those lab grown pests by the way.”

“No kidding.” Billy shrugged his jacket off and she awkwardly reached to take it. Hung it up behind her.

Evie turned to see him staring again and swallowed a hard lump down. Thought maybe he saw all the begonias blooming behind her eyes and up her throat.

“Billy.” Mona came out of the kitchen, arms out. “So glad you’re here.”

“You saved me from a sad date with a TV dinner.” Billy winked, charming Ms. Fenny to bits. She giggled and shook her hair out.

“Dinner’s got about ten minutes. Why don’t you show him around, baby?” Mona hurried back off, leaving them alone again.

“Tour? Great idea." He peered behind Evie. A mission at hand. "Where’s the cat?”

“Hiding from you, clearly.” Evie beamed, gesturing. “Welcome to the living room. Mom's showroom is a better word.”

“Your mom like tchotchkes or what?” He came to the full mantle. Scanning.

“How’d you guess?” Evie reluctantly trailed to his side.

It was strange to let this boy wander around and see little bits of her life. Guess things about her as he went along, trailing deft fingers about the fireplace. She wondered what was blooming within the pit of his stomach, if anything.

Mona Fenny's house overwhelmed.

Photographs, plants, and crafts. Little porcelain figurines. Too many handmade candles. Crochet projects. A full dollhouse on a table in the corner.

“My grandma passed a lot of craft skills down. She owned this amazingly strange trinket and voodoo shop in New Orleans that my aunts run now after Nana died."

"Your mom didn't stay for a piece of that?" Billy let his eyes trail over every little thing.

"Ah, I don't know. She was the baby and married pretty young. Seemed like she wanted something new," Evie peered behind her and whispered. "Never really got along with Nana like her older sisters did."

Billy hummed a little. Decided not to pry with Mona in the next room. Evie brought him to the corner and flicked a lamp on.

"Mom’s dollhouse is her pride and joy. Lights up and everything.”

“Tell me why your mother has a framed photograph of Dolly Parton next to a picture of you two on the fireplace. And the same photo shrunk down in the dollhouse?”

“Science may tell us the truth one day when the world is ready. And I fear for that day.” She replied in all seriousness and Billy snorted. Laughing.

A truly enchanting sound Evie decided she liked.

“And I have to say,” he plucked a photo off a bookshelf with a broad grin, “this one is my favorite.”

One of Evie on Halloween. Had to be about six. Dressed in the campiest pink daisy costume with a huge toothy smile.

“Gah,” she cringed and swiped it from his hand, “this house is a museum of embarrassment.”

“You’re into the museum shit, guess this is like our first-” Billy stopped himself from producing the damning word when Evie turned. Blushing. Oof. He scratched the back of his neck. “So, uh, you got a bedroom in here or do you sleep in the dollhouse?”

“You won’t find the cat that easily.” She caught him peering around again and led him past the kitchen. “C’mon, not much to the rest of the house. Garage. Spare room.” That used to be her dad’s office space. “Mom’s room. Attic up there and on this end. My cat's room that he lets me stay in too.”

The door was open so Billy prodded it to peek inside. Evie exhaled and flicked the light on.

It didn’t feel like a teenage girl’s bedroom. Not covered in decorations and pictures like the rest of the house. No posters cut from magazines covered in pink lipstick kisses.

A vanity full of disorganized makeup. Desk. Overfilled bookcase of novels and tapes. Crafts and trinkets she collected in labeled tin boxes. Dresser covered in jewelry. Music player. Bed. Closet. Couple of pictures taped by the vanity and headboard. Mostly Evie and Heather laughing and bright. Her beloved acoustic guitar propped in the corner.

It felt like it was decorated by one trying to take up as little space as possible. Everything was compacted. Billy eyed the wall by her bed. Realized most of the papers were notes with random lyrics and words patched together.

“Yeah, I tend to jot every little thought down even when I’m half asleep and hope it makes a song eventually.” She peered aside. It felt too intimate, letting Billy shift about the space.

"Hey, everybody has a method." Two fingers traced over a note taped up to straighten it. She caught the ring gleaming on his middle finger. “My-”

“Ah, don’t read them aloud, I may combust.”

“Oh?” Billy slunk toward her, licked his lips. A hungry way about it. Mouth watering fangs full of sweet venom. Wonder how they'd feel sinking into her throat. “Because I make you nervous, Angel?”

“No, it’s just...just…weird.” Evie pressed up into her desk. Billy closed the distance. Got within inches of her. “It’s weird.”

Repetition didn’t ease the sear of those ocean eyes drowning her too sweetly. She felt her chest fill and flutter all the way down. Flowers unfurled to be plucked and caressed. Billy pushed into the space until she was seated there on the desk. Scrambling further. Unable to climb the wall.

“You do seem nervous though, Evie.” His tone hushed. Fingers brushed her thighs and palms came to rest there. The bunched fabric of her dress barely separating them. She inhaled his cologne. Smelled peppermint from his breath. Chest heaving.

Billy knew this wasn’t part of the quest. If that’s what this was, maybe that was a nicer way to put it. Maybe rationalizing it a thousand times would help him get some sleep at night. Just show her a good night, cash in, and go home.

It still sounded shitty. Wasn't doing Evie any favors. This girl painted too many iridescent colors. They could bleed and Billy wouldn't step away if it pooled too close.

He liked to watch the blush spread across her freckled cheeks. Rose petals falling into a cool pond. Liked the way her nose scrunched when she smiled and when she was cross with him.

Billy didn't want her because she was a conquest. A challenge. Sure, she challenged him, that was part of it. And she also made him smile like he was looking at the rocking ocean waves again. Sand and wind kissing his warm skin. There was a mystery in those molten eyes he wanted to taste for himself. Maybe it was possible to just enjoy a person without strings.

To let colors bleed and swirl. To just watch it happen without fear or judgement. To not step away from it either. Just sink right in and create those echoing ripples.

It was too sweet and peculiar, how soft Evangeline Fenny was against the hard edges of his steel frame. So sharp, it warded everyone off.

But, not Evie, she fit perfectly against him. Fire with fire. It gave them so much in this world that had forgotten them both. Freckles to count. Eyelashes to wish upon. Flesh curves and razor angles to explore.

Hell, he even enjoyed how shaken she got as he neared and how still she went when his fingers trailed up her legs.

Evie watched his muscled chest rise, the saint pendant caught the light. Looked up at his eyes and then his mouth because it couldn’t be helped. Billy Hargrove filled Evie's space and lungs with sugary smoke. He was too many colors in one soul. So, he pushed further because those painted lips were big and full and right fucking there.

One curious taste, that couldn't hurt.

Brought his hand up toward her chin and leaned forth when…

“Dinner!”

Evie practically shoved Billy back. Scrambled up so the desk gave a rut. Bright red as he stumbled.

“Sorry.” She shuddered, passing him. Smelling of amber perfume. “Coming, mom.” Billy stared at the back of her hair. Blinked a couple times to pull himself together. To rationalize some.

Curiosity. A deadly thing and so sweet too.

It felt like he was dreaming and woke up sitting at the dinner table. Evie clicked a Coke in front of him, flashed a knowing expression that made him smirk before she sat down.

“Now, I left a bowl in the kitchen to cool. We always bring extra to Miss Abigail, she’s three doors down.” Mona was setting plates about.

“It looks amazing, Ms. Fenny.” Billy even shifted a dish to help make room for another.

“Please, Billy, just Mona. Ms. Fenny was my mother and she was a harder woman.” She set a glass of water down and smoothed her dress out, sitting. Billy went for his fork and his hand was snatched. Evie shot him a look as Mona reached out. “I always say grace. Don’t feel pressured to join, sweetheart.”

Billy peered at Evie’s warm hand in his and accepted her mother’s. Bowed his head a little so Mona could say her prayer.

“Bless us, oh Lord. For this and all we are about to receive, make us truly grateful. And thank you for bringing Billy to our humble table, may he truly feel welcomed in our home. Please guide and protect him. Through Christ, we pray. Amen.”

“Amen.” Evie offered softer. Lips lifting when Billy peered at their hands again leaving each other. Clearly not expecting such words from a neighbor.

“You’ll forgive me, Billy, some people say they leave their hearts open. I just let mine fill the room.” Mona settled a napkin in her lap. “May I ask, if your family is religious at all?”

“Dad’s Lutheran.” Which meant Susan was by default now whatever she believed before. “We don’t go to church or anything.”

As if Neil Hargrove could drag his son under a steeple without one of them spontaneously combusting.

“Well, that’s perfectly fine.” Mona cut each of her meatballs into smaller pieces which Evie mirrored. “Evie doesn’t attend with me when I go. Although, the choir sure misses her voice.”

“Mom...” A teenage whine, near silent as she prodded at noodles.

“She get all the solos?” Billy encouraged the pink spreading Evie’s cheeks.

“Oh, every single one. She’s even been asked to come sing the national anthem at minor league baseball games.” Mona prattled and Evie’s head fell back.

“Mom!” Another drawn out groan. Evie sunk down lower.

“Oh, Evangeline, let your mother brag about you.” Mona ignored her.

"Yeah, Evangeline." He chimed in, earning a harder glare.

“Now, Billy, you’ve been in Hawkins just over two months?” Mona continued. Blue eyes lifted from the plate before he gave a nod. “How are you liking it? I’m sure it’s such a huge change from California. You must miss the beach.”

“Getting used to the cold.” Billy speared a meatball and didn’t sound convincing.

“I’ll bet you’ve never seen snow before, your poor sinuses aren’t going to know what to do. Anyone in your family takes ill, just give us a ring.” Such a mom. “It took me a few years to get used to the cold here too. We moved when Evie was just a baby straight up from N’aw Lins.”

Billy bit his tongue.

“What type of music do you write?” Billy asked and there was a beat when Evie realized he was looking at her. Addressing her pointedly. Maybe to make conversation and suck up to her talkative mother. Evie’s back grew taut, lips opening.

“Evie’s gonna be a folk singer.” Mona had cut in. “Voice of an angel, she’ll make it big. She’s been in competitions, just one look from any talent scout and she’s sold.” Evie sank down again to go back to her food. Billy watched her roll a meatball around her plate like it was the most interesting thing in the room.

Mona Fenny struck Billy as a woman who always meant well. Frilly like a lace doily. So well, she steamrolled over you because she knew best. Evie barely got two syllables out before her mother was flicking her hair and boasting. A doll that constantly had the string in its voice box yanked.

Billy learned a great deal about her.

That Mona had been arrested twice in her life for marching and protesting. Civil and women’s rights. She joked that she hadn't been arrested for gay rights yet, but looked forward to the inevitable. She was a pageant queen too. Stopped when she found out she was pregnant and couldn’t compete after that. No bitterness there of course. She had a daughter to mold and complete the legacy now.

Mona insisted on taking the plates away. Grabbing her own, Billy’s, and a side dish.

Evie was still rolling that meatball around until Billy plucked up a fork, stabbed it, and swallowed in one bite. She perked with flushed cheeks. Glared again.

Billy wanted attention.

“Your mom is friendly.” Statement of the fucking millennium.

“Just wait til she busts out her old pageant scrapbooks. You'll never see home again.” Evie quickly flashed a smile and picked up her own plate to follow her mother off. Billy stood too, peered around. That cat had to be close. “Give it up.” Arms crossed when she leaned into the doorway working a melting ice cube around her mouth. Swallowed it whole instead of crunching. Water ran in the kitchen behind her.

“We agreed on an hour of television.” Billy matched her stance, saw her hip cock.

“Half hour.”

“Hour.” Billy went in to sit on the couch like he owned it. Legs spread. “Come on in, the water’s fine, Evangeline.” Evie plucked up the remote, sat as far away from him as she could. Turned the TV on to something campy just to make him suffer.

“Fucking Love Boat. Really? Susan watches this crap.”

“You said the full hour.” Evie flashed a smug grin. “I think The Golden Girls is on too.”

“Love Boat is fine.” Billy lifted his hand. Swiped the remote from her to set it on the other side of him. They both sunk in there. Eyes on the screen. Mona left them alone to bring the plate to their neighbor, stayed for conversation.

Billy fidgeted. Stretching to scoot closer so he could nudge his knee into Evie's. Her face remained at total peace. She pushed back at his leg which drew slow smiles upon them both.

“What kind of music do you really like, or does your mother always do all the talking?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Evie felt him peer back over and held herself. A beat.

“Yeah, your dreams. They don't matter." Came sarcasm. "A girl who wants her name in lights. Don't spend too much time feeling for the switch in darkness, Angel."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just asking. You really want to sit in silence to this cheesefest? Young actresses paired with old ass grandpas playing love sick.” Billy put his arm up over the couch. Missed Evie twitch. Got his hand smacked for tugging her curl like a giddy little boy.

“I don’t know,” Evie faced him with a shrug, “somewhere in the rock and pop area. Maybe with a touch of soul. Not the hair metal I’m sure you’re into."

How beautiful she looked when she hoped.

"And my name in lights won't ever be enough, I need people to chant it too.”

Lips curled at Evie.

“Better than folk music.” Billy decided. Pride welled because she smiled too. Genuinely. Evie fiddled with her necklace. Delicate little music note caught the technicolor glow. Brown eyes turned to see him, she tried to bite the smile down. Failed.

“So, what’s the deal with this party thing? A dance?”

“One of many in the city. Bunch of high schools will probably run drunk through the streets with everyone else. No one will get carded because no one cares on New Years. Dancing and whatever. Watch the ball drop, it’s just the feral thing to do that night.”

“And you could score with any girl, but you’re asking me. It won’t be like a date or anything.” Evie dropped the charm in her fingers to see Billy’s eyes linger.

“You mentioned that. I know how to get out and have a good time without fucking. I have all sorts of tricks.” He noted the word didn’t make her wince. “Not looking to break your seal.”

“You’re gross.” Again, no argument on the details of it.

“You’re too tightly wound.” He paused, whispering. “Maybe not, but you hide it.”

"Nothing to hide, I'm an open book."

"A never ending record," Billy pushed into her so their legs pressed flush, "not nervous around me though."

"Nope." Her lips popped, fingers curling into the hem of her dress when his arm snaked behind the couch. "Not nervous."

"Not running either." That realization seemed to hit them both.

"Why would I? I can handle you just fine." She hissed at that because it came out sexual. Billy licked his lips and snickered, shifting to face her head on.

"Oh, I like the sound of that." He'd murmured, inches from her face. Evie found herself wondering how he managed to weasel his way in this close. Wondered why she was drinking him back in. "Picture this. You and this perfume enjoying a couple free drinks and some fireworks in the city. No strings attached. Not a date. Just those exploding lights and that chilly wind cooling your cheeks down, because you'll be blushing and you won't know it."

"Uh huh. I guess I can see it." Evie sized him up and crossed her legs to lean back into him. "You and the roar of a Camaro commanding the city to its knees. Glam and hairspray working their magic."

"I love an audience, Angel." Billy shook his head and froze because her palm came to his knee. Bold move. "But, I don't mind the front seat to see you blush too."

"What about you?" She whispered with a hum. "What makes King Billy blush? Does all the noise you like to make hide it?" A spark flitted up her eyes. Made his chest heave. "Is that your secret?"

"Come to the party, I'll tell you all my secrets." Fingers grazed up her arm when soft digits gave a rhythmic tap against his thigh. Billy went for it. "Do this dance with me."

"You don't play as hard to get as you let on."

"Not when I want something bad. Better to just play harder." Lips parted to hit that word. Her brows lifted at such an admittance. "You're sizzling up a fuse, aren't you, Evie?" She shook her head with a lazy smile. Eyes finding his again after. Near sultry.

"You have to light a fuse first, Billy, for it to sizzle." Her hand crept along denim. Felt him go rigid and part his thighs just a little bit wider before she sat back. "And the fire's out anyway. I'll make good on the deal. If you win."

"I hope you have a dress picked." Billy scoffed, breathless and still intent on her while she looked ahead at the screen.

“Time is ticking. As if you taking me out will do me any good." Evie rolled her eyes and reclined back into his side. Quite comfortably like she wasn't thinking about it. "Give me cool points so Tommy and Carol leave me alone.”

“They’re assholes to everyone. It’s not you.” Billy replied dismissively. Curled his finger into her locks behind the sofa.

“You don’t notice who they target because you’re too busy chasing skirts and fighting others yourself. Also haven't seen the writing about me on the bathroom walls. School hierarchy rules. Open those pretty ocean eyes and see the world for what it is. You're untouched because of your front. Everyone wants to be Billy Hargrove or screw him.”

Evie looked at him there, blinking.

"What side of the line are you on?" He bit his lip. "I can guess."

She plucked his hand from her shoulder and placed it back into his lap. Patted it for good measure.

“So, you really think my eyes are pretty?” Billy laughed when a square pillow nailed him in the face. "You said it before too! When we were drunk and you still think it now that we're sober. Telling."

Tension shattered. Evie glittered right back at him, teeth flashing. Still chuckling, he tilted his head back to create the magical sound. Quieted.

“Fine. I’ll pay attention if it helps you sleep at night.”

Evie blew air out her lips, let a curl fly up and bounce down. They watched the screen again. Shared a space. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so intimate.

“Episode’s almost over. Thanks for playing.” She about sang. Triumphant.

“I guess you have me, Fenny.” Billy pushed up. “Mind if I take a leak?” He was already pacing off so she said nothing.

Just watched couples go hand in hand into the sunset.

There was a flush, the sink running, and then Billy’s huge smile crept back down the hallway. The boy was gone all of three minutes.

Bourbon in his arms. Purring. Perfectly happy. Evie’s jaw dropped open.

“Guess who crawled out of the shower to eyeball my junk? Not that I blame him.” Billy quipped, scratching the cat’s chin. Bourbon rubbed back into the touch. Rasped his scratchy meow for more.

“Traitor...” Evie muttered, coming to her feet. “Damn it.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re mine now, Evie. Seven o’clock. Wear something short if you like.” Billy’s lips were pressed up. Such an ass.

"I call foul." Her finger lifted.

"And I'll be calling on you. New Years Eve. Just an annoying dance. It'll be fun and free." His chin gestured at her. "Just say yes, Evie. Get out of this small town and see some lights for once. You want your name in them so bad, you gotta look at the damn things first. No day but today. Right?"

"Right," a lengthy sigh, "but, the fire's still out. Bourbon, why? First, mom and now you. He's just hypnotizing you both.” Evie took the cat from Billy, watched his face scrunch.

“Your cat is really named Bourbon?” He said flatter.

“I found him when we visited family in New Orleans. Bourbon street.” She let the feline nuzzle into her chest.

“God, Angel, I hope your lyrics are more creative than that.” Billy lightened, chest shaking as he peered away shaking his pretty head. “Well?”

She pouted and if that cat wasn't between them, Billy didn't know what he would have done. Another time or place. Another pretty dress. Another shared beat of bleeding together.

That itched him the rest of the night.

“I’ll go. Seven. I’ll dress nice. It’s not a date, so don’t try anything and get me home in one piece. I reserve the right to leave you if you act like too much of an ass.” Evie grumbled some about it, defeated.

But, she wondered about the lights and what it might be like to share them. Suppressed all urges that longed to hope.

“That much I can do, I might even keep my ass in check. Don’t flake, we have a deal. I’ll be your Mr. Darcy or whatever.” Billy made for the door, plucking up his jacket as she opened it.

“That’s an impossible standard, but keep dreaming.” Evie sighed out. Watched him turn to beam. Offered a pet to Bourbon. “Least you got his name right.”

“Quick learner, I get points. New Years Eve. Don’t make me chase you, Evie, because I will.” Billy stepped off the porch lighting a cigarette, idly waved behind him.

Game. Set. Match.

“I’m not gonna be nice about it.” She called.

“So, you’ll be your normal, cheery self with me. Great. Won't ask for anything else, we have a good thing going.” He turned to wink, curling a final smile. Evie stilled, petting her cat before sighing into the cold air. “See you then, Fenny.”

“Whatever you say, Hargrove.” She shut the door as he climbed his own porch. Looked at her cat.

“You did this to us, I hope you’re proud.”

Bourbon blinked. Another rumbling purr in response.

** ** **

“The world...” Evie plucked an idle cord. Sang soft to not disturb her mother down the hallway sleeping. Nestled into the wall on her bed next to the window. “May think I’m foolish. They can’t see you like I can...”

Darkness shrouded save for a small set of twinkling lights around her bed frame. Eyes kept averting to the clock.

“Oh, but anyone...who...”

Another pause to see the clock. Eyes flickered out along the street marked with lamps. Cracking her window to see out. Nothing. Evie settled. Changed the tune to something original and plucked another heart string.

“Those ocean eyes… Drowning me out. What I wouldn't give to...” Her palm caught the vibrating cord to snuff the sound. A groan as she set the guitar aside. “Shit.”

That was not happening.

A car went down the street at the exact moment the clock struck eleven. Evie grabbed her coat and locked her bedroom door. Checked her hair and makeup before hitching one leg over the window. Felt the naughty thrill pulse into her heart as she snuck out.

Billy peered to see beyond his own window near the foot of his bed. Unseen in the pitch black space. Thought about catching her. It was always a Saturday night. Evie Fenny crept out like clockwork. Wearing something nice under a jacket she held close. Sometimes with the guitar on her back. Lips painted red. Went down the street and returned as the sun rose. He’d observed it often. Sometimes it happened on school nights. Two to three times a week. Never asked because it didn’t seem important enough before. But, now…

Billy knew a teen girl didn’t paint her lips red at eleven o’clock on a Saturday for just anyone.

Evie hurried down the street toward the woods at the end. Got into a shiny car. Disappeared until sunrise.

~~~~~

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