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flowersforbucky · 5 months ago

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magnetic field

erik lehnsherr x reader

word count: 2k

summary: takes place following the events of days of future past. reader is a mutant with elemental manipulation powers.

a/n: this goes out to the three erik/magneto fans that will read this 🤧 i don't have high hopes for this but i still thought i'd give sharing it a shot. very well may end up deleting it but we will see lol

warnings/tags: a little bit of angst but mostly fluff! kissing, suggestiveness, implied smut but nothing graphic

You just keep me coming back

Something about how opposites attract

You hold me down

I'm in it for real

Love me, leave me high and dry

I'm back in your arms and I don't know why

I can't get around your magnetic field

- magnetic field by lights

It's just past dusk on a Sunday evening when he shows up on your doorstep with drenched clothes and dripping wet hair.

You knew that you were bound to see him again one day. You just didn't expect it to be here, or quite this soon.

“What are you doing here, Erik?”

You cross your arms and lean against the frame of your small cabin's front door, wrapping your cardigan tighter around yourself as you take in his appearance.

It had only been a few months since you had last seen him in D.C., but those few months had taken their toll on him. Dark circles encase his eyes that appear almost hollow.

“It always seems to rain when you're feeling particularly nervous,” he says with a half smirk. Thunder booms from above as rain beats down harder on the tin roof of your porch.

“It's Oregon,” you shrug. You concentrate on keeping your voice even. “It's rained for the last five days.”

He's not wrong. You do tend to subconsciously make it rain when you're nervous.

He chuckles under his breath, taking a step closer to you. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Do you really have to ask why I'm here?”

Now it's you who avoids his question. You have your hopes as to why he's here, but you can't bring yourself to feed into them. Not after all this time - after years of trying to move on while he was imprisoned, followed by a brief reunion during the events of Paris and D.C. that left your heart shattered all over again just a few months ago.

Can you really let yourself believe that he's simply here for you?

You raise a single hand to the side of his neck, your palm caressing the wet skin of his throat. His eyes narrow but he doesn't flinch away, only watches you curiously.

A second later, his previously soaked clothes and sopping wet hair are completely dry. He glances down, realizing what you did as you reluctantly pull your hand away from his skin. You think maybe - just maybe - a hint of disappointment flashes through his eyes at the loss of contact.

“Can't have you dripping all over my carpet,” you sigh, turning to retreat back into the house. You hear the front door click shut and you know that he's followed your lead inside.

“So, why Oregon?” He asks hesitantly as he slips his coat off and hangs it on a hook in the foyer. You turn to find him taking in the appearance of the place you've been trying to call home for the last few months. His eyes skim over the piles of books scattered throughout the small living room, and then to the bouquet of wilted zinnias on your dining room table that you had picked in hopes of making the bland space feel more lively.

“I'll answer your questions if you answer mine,” you offer, leaning against the edge of your kitchen counter. He walks to the dining room table a few feet away from you and pulls out a chair, taking a seat in front of where you stand.

“That sounds fair enough to me, darling.”

Your heart skips a beat at the familiar pet name. It feels as if it's been a lifetime since you've heard him call you that.

“I came here once as a kid,” you answer simply. “After what happened a few months ago, I couldn't bring myself to go back to New York. Charles, the mansion.. everything reminded me of you. I just needed to get away for a while.

He looks down at his lap, unable to hold your gaze. “I have so many regre–”

“Your turn,” you interrupt as you turn to the cabinet behind you. You rummage through it, gathering a tea kettle and a mug.

You aren't ready to hear his apologies. As badly as your heart has wanted to hear that he's sorry for so long, to hear him say that he regrets ever doing anything to jeopardize what the two of you had - you don't trust yourself to not crumble into a million pieces at those words now that he's sitting in your kitchen.

“How did you find me?” You ask without looking back at him. You fill the kettle with water, and bring it to a boil in seconds with the snap of your fingers.

“I'll tell you,” he says over the sharp whistle of the kettle. “But you can't laugh at me.”

You snort, pouring the boiling water over an earl grey tea bag as you try to ignore the swell of bitterness in your chest at the nostalgia of it. Memories of this exact scenario in a different time and place flash through your mind - a happier, more innocent time and place. You carry the mug over to where he sits and place it in front of him before pulling out the chair next to him.

You hold out your pinky towards him, elbow on the dining room table. He cocks an eyebrow at you.

“I pinky promise that I won't laugh at you,” you say, little finger still extended. He leans forward, lips forming a smirk as he wraps his pinky around yours. His skin is every bit as soft and warm as you remember it being and you dread the moment that he pulls away.

“I went to the mansion,” he answers with his finger still secured around yours. “I snuck into Charles’ study when no one was home and found some letters you had written to him. I saw the return address on the envelope.”

“Huh,” you muse. “I guess I see why you made me promise not to laugh.” You're not sure what you were expecting his answer to be, but you didn’t think it would be quite so… human.

“Your turn to answer a question, darling.”

Your only response is a small nod.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” you answer, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I don’t.”

His posture slackens, relief taking over his features. He leans over to where your fingers are intertwined, and presses his lips to the side of your pinky finger. It has been years since his lips have touched your skin, but you melt at the familiar warmth all the same.

“Good,” he sighs in relief. His breath fans over your skin, leaving a visible trail of goosebumps over your hand. “I do not intend to leave unless you order me away.”

Your eyes burn with tears that threaten to spill over. His sudden appearance, his words, his mere presence after so much time apart is overwhelming. Despite it all, you can’t bring yourself to care about the reasons why you’ve had to spend so much time apart.

He’s here, and that’s enough for you. Everything else can be addressed in time.

You bring your free hand to his face, cupping his jawline in your palm. Your thumb skims over the stubble that graces his cheeks.

“What do we do now?” you wonder aloud. His pale eyes crinkle as he gives you the first smile that you’ve seen from him in years.

“We try to make up for lost time.”

••••••

You heat him some leftovers from the dinner you had made for yourself not long before his arrival, a bowl of chicken noodle soup and homemade bread. He scarfs the food and the tea that you'd made for him down within minutes, and then retreats to your cabin’s small bathroom to rinse off the last few days of cross-country travel. He had brought a singular duffel bag that now rests on the foot of your bed - which just so happens to be the only bed in the house, seeing as how it's a one bedroom and you live here alone.

Butterflies fill your belly at the implication. There was once a time where it never would have been a question - of course the two of you would have shared the only bed in the house. Now, doing so could very well mean diving back in too quickly and ending up broken all over again.

But then again, didn't that become a possibility the second that you opened your door to find him on your porch?

“What’s on your mind?” His soft voice sounds from behind you. You had been so lost in thought that you didn't hear him exit the bathroom and wander back down the hallway.

You turn to find him leaning against your bedroom door frame, wearing only a towel that hangs loosely from his hips. His chestnut hair still drips wet.

Your eyes flicker between him and the spare quilt that you have piled in your arms.

“You can sleep in here,” you tell him with a nod towards the bed that you'd just put a set of fresh sheets on. “I'll take the couch.”

He chuckles lowly, standing up straight as you walk towards the door, blocking your exit.

“Don't be silly. I'm not going to kick you out of your bed in your own home,” he tells you in a gentle but firm tone.

“You're not kicking me out of my bed,” you assure him. “I'm offering it to you.”

Your cheeks warm under his gaze that you struggle to hold - your eyes threatening to wander down the expanse of his chest with the rise and fall of each breath that he takes.

“It's loads comfier that whatever cot that you were sleeping on in prison, I promise,” you jab at him lightly when he doesn't respond.

He hums in consideration, taking a step closer to you.

“It's not the cot that I minded so much while I was in prison. It's the fact that any bed without you in it feels empty.”

A clap of thunder booms in the distance at the same time that your heart skips a beat.

“I'm not expecting anything to happen, darling,” he assures you lightly. “We don't even have to touch. After so much time apart, I just want to be next to you.”

You exhale a breath that you didn't realize you had been holding in, and place the quilt in your arms on the dresser right next to you.

“Don't be silly,” you repeat his sentiment from just moments ago. You take a step closer to him, now able to smell hints of Old Spice soap from his shower. “Of course you can touch me. If that's what you want.”

“If that's what I want?” He scoffs softly, inching towards you. You place your hands on his hips, walking backwards until your thighs brush against the edge of your mattress. You're lodged between him and the bed, his bare chest practically brushing against yours.

“As if I’d ever not want that.”

He raises his hands to each side of your face and tilts your head up to look at him. His thumb massages over the swell of your bottom lip, his eyes locked on your mouth.

“Erik,” you breathe, and before you can get out another word, his lips are slated over yours. You pull him flush against you by your hold on his waist.

When you close your eyes and focus solely on the feeling of his mouth moving in synchrony with yours, you forget where you're at and everything that's happened over the course of the last decade. In this moment, you're not in a run down cabin in the middle of nowhere Oregon - you're in the courtyard of the mansion and he's kissing you for the very first time.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers against your mouth when he pulls away. You raise up on your toes, pressing your lips against his one more time before pulling back to stare up at him with a smirk. You sit down on the edge of the mattress and scoot back, pulling him down with you.

“Then let's make up for lost time.”

You don’t notice it until you're drifting to sleep in each other's arms hours later, but the thunderstorm that had been raging upon his arrival had slowed to a silent, peaceful mist.

thank you for reading ♡ comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

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heirofnight · 7 months ago

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meddling, pt. 3

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.9k - i will never not be a yapper

summary: ah, my favorite little adorable pair. part three of the meddling series. reader wants to thank azriel for being so kind to her since her arrival at the house of wind several months ago. she gifts him with a silver chain. azriel loses his mind. fluff, so much fluff.

warnings: none, except for potential cavities from the sweetness.

a/n: this was the brain child of a post that i made thirsting over azriel wearing a chain & rings. someone commented on that post and suggested i incorporate that into this series. and here we are. probably my favorite piece of writing that i've done so far, ok. i'm simple. pining azriel makes me weak. enjoy! <3

read part one & two

you clutched the tiny, wrapped gift box in your hands, your fingers moving to glide along the cobalt blue silk bow adorning the lid.

you felt jittery, nervous. butterflies had taken flight throughout your chest and belly, relentless wings swirling.

you supposed this gesture wouldn't strike azriel as odd, or out of left field. after all, the male had been going out of his way for you for months.

his warm, kind gestures toward you as he sat next to you during your first dinner at the house of wind - you'd been so petrified, but he took you under his wing (literally). the kind, soft eyes he'd given you. he'd served your plate, giving you hushed anecdotes about each dish so you could choose what you'd wanted to indulge in. you hadn't admitted it, but you only chose to try azriel's favorite foods.

then, the sweater. he'd given you one of his oversized sweaters to snuggle into. you'd mentioned to him one time that you often froze, no matter the weather conditions, and he'd somehow remembered that detail - presenting you with the best solution he could muster. now that you knew him a bit better, you weren't sure if he'd actually remembered you admitting how cold you always were, or if that fact was just something he was able to observe himself. he was the spymaster, after all. maybe you were just easy to read.

if you were to actually ask azriel, he'd say that he remembered every word you'd ever spoken. every detail, every slight reaction. and it wasn't because it was his job to do so - wasn't because rhys had ordered him to watch over you seven months ago upon your arrival to the house of wind. no, you no longer needed his watchful eye. you were settled in, comfortable, part of the family.

he remembered the words you spoke because he hung onto every word that left your lips.

today, you sat in that favorite armchair of yours in the private library on the third floor - as always. you glanced over to the large shelf closest to you, a smile slowly spreading across your lips as you took in the romance books neatly lined before you. the romance books that azriel had removed from an obscenely tall shelf that was completely unreachable. to you, at least - unless you felt like scaling the entire thing.

he was so observant. he'd noted your favorite genre, remembered that you struggled to reach that row of books. took time out of his day to rearrange the entire left side of the library in favor of making you more comfortable. and now, here you sat. your favorite novels within arm's reach at any given moment, all because of this achingly kind male.

yes, he deserved this gift. he'd done so much, you wished you were able to bestow him with more. you were wearing his sweater again today, but this one was different. he's since presented you with four more sweaters from his closet, although he hadn't grown less bashful about offering them over to you - even though your reaction is always the same. blushing, bright eyes staring up at him in wonder as you grip the fabric and hold it to your melting heart.

and azriel, he revels in those moments. he can't help the sense of pure pride that warms his entire body from the inside out. he couldn't stop doing things for you if he tried, your smile and twinkling eyes circulating throughout his bloodstream like the first hit of a drug so strong, it threatened to bring him to his knees.

you took a deep breath, eyes flitting towards the elegant grandfather clock to your left. he'd normally stroll into the library around this time each day, joining you to read in silent, comfortable companionship.

and, like clockwork, that feisty, stray tendril of shadow that you'd come to love twirled through the crack in the wooden double doors with a flourish. it darted straight towards you, as it always did - worrying over you for a moment each time it found you. you'd imagined it was giving you a general once-over to make sure you were safe and content. it was much like its master in that regard.

the shadow looped through your fingers and hands, taking notice of the gift box that was sitting on your lap. it focused its attention there momentarily, swirling through the silky bow that matched the color of azriel's siphons - a detail you'd hoped he didn't find weird.

azriel made his appearance a second later, pushing through the doors with a book held under his arm. he moved with so much grace, despite his tall, muscular frame. he was astonishing to watch, even if the action was something completely mundane. tearing your eyes from him sometimes felt impossible, the allure he possessed was almost suffocating - but in the sweetest way.

he didn't even try to hide the fact that his sights were set on you immediately. he used to give a sweeping glance of the entire space before he allowed himself to find you, but now, he looked for you first - and you were always there. he felt any lingering tension within his body melt into the floor beneath him.

"hey, you," you spoke tenderly towards him, and the smile that he gave you made your chest warm.

he approached you, as he always did, unable to stay too far away. his eyes raked down your torso, never tiring of the feeling of seeing you in his clothing.

"i think this one is my favorite on you," he noted, eyes turning to molten honey as he took you in.

you preened at this, making a mental note to don this particular sweater a little more than the others.

"i, uh, i have something for you," you started, extending the small gift box towards him. now you knew how he felt, waiting to see if you'd accept the items of his clothing each time he presented you with them. you held your arm out without wavering, even though you felt a bit silly now.

his cheeks tinted a light shade of pink, and he studied the box in your hand for a moment. it wasn't lost on him that you'd chosen a bow that was the exact color of his blazing siphons. he felt his heart lurch against his ribcage at the realization.

"it's just a little something," you started again, voice woven with a nervous undertone at his continued silence. "i wanted to thank you for being so kind to me since i've arrived," you cleared your throat. "you've really made this place feel like ... like a home," you finished, giving him a shy, tentative smile. he could tell by the look in your eyes that you were pleading with him to accept it. you didn't have to beg him - well. maybe he'd like that, in other circumstances. however, not now, not for this.

a small smile spread across his lips at your last words. a home. he'd made someone feel like they were home, and that was enough of a gift for azriel. several times since meeting you, he'd felt as though his heart was swelling uncontrollably, growing beyond the confines of his chest. like you were somehow nurturing and tending to it. this was one of those times.

he reached a scarred hand towards the box, taking it from you gently. "y/n," he traced the bow with his fingers, slowly tugging the ribbon apart. "you really, really didn't have to do this. i just wanted you to be comfortable here, with us," he flicked his soft eyes towards yours, and you were doing that thing you did when you were nervous - fiddling with your fingers. he wanted to grab your hands then, run his lips along your knuckles, kiss each fingertip slowly. i will love it no matter what it is, he thought to himself, please don't be so nervous.

you dipped your chin at his words, huffing a small, breathy little laugh. "well, i am, az. comfortable here. with you," you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and azriel trembled with the urge to gently place the delicate gift box aside in favor of gently tugging your delicate body towards his instead.

he took a deep breath then, composing himself, as he lifted the lid from the box. inside was a custom-made, silver curb link chain. one that was long enough to rest right in the middle of his clavicle. small, glimmering cobalt blue stones were hand-set throughout - only able to be seen when the light hit them a certain way. but when the light did hit them, they were stunning. the surface of the gems danced with the fragments of light as though they were on fire, alive.

this made him think of you: the light that found his shadows, setting him aflame.

his breath caught in his throat, and he lifted the chain from the silk pillow that it rested on. he loved it. absolutely, wholeheartedly, loved it. it was powerful-looking, strong. the best gift he ever remembered receiving.

now, you'd be lying if you said this present wasn't also - maybe, sorta kinda - for your benefit. his strong, tanned neck hugged by a silver chain? gods. okay, yeah, this was slightly indulgent on your part.

but, in your defense, azriel had begun sporting silver signet rings on several of his elegant fingers. you thought a similarly-fashioned chain would tie the look together nicely. this was just a product of your own observant nature. really, that's all it was.

...

azriel let out an exhale of astonishment, meeting your eyes with widened ones of his own.

"this, is - i mean. beautiful. this is - thank you," he breathed out, setting the now-empty box, and the book he'd been cradling under his arm, down beside you. he gently began working at the clasp of the chain, his movements so careful, you could tell he was trying his hardest not to break it - ruin it.

you stood up before him, taking a step so that you were right in front of his towering frame. "here," you whispered, tenderly taking the chain from his hands. you unclasped it with ease, standing on your tip-toes to reach behind his neck - wanting to place it on him. he ducked his head for you politely, allowing you to see what you were doing a bit better.

you were so close to him, and with his head ducked down towards you, his chin was nearly resting on your shoulder. you fought every instinct within your body that was screaming at you to move closer, breathe deeper, inhale his scent, touch him.

but you didn't. you held your composure, clasping the necklace around his neck - making sure to be careful of his wings.

azriel had his eyes closed, also fighting similar urges of his own. he wanted so badly to rest his face within the crook of your neck, wrap his arms around the middle of your back, tug you into him.

two lovesick idiots, silently pining for the other.

necklace now adorning his neck, you stepped back. azriel stood to his full height once more, and he peered down at you with a gaze that he fought to keep friendly - instead of one that screamed complete adoration.

"well," he croaked out, swallowing thickly. your eyes darted to the movement, watching his adam's apple bob beneath the silver jewelry.

you were fucked.

"how's it look?", he continued, his hand reaching towards his neck to trace the smooth, curbed chain.

it was your turn to swallow hard, which of course, he noticed. he fought a smirk, especially when he witnessed your cheeks growing hot.

you pursed your lips together, trying your best to think of a response that wasn't akin to a dog barking.

"it's -," you sighed thoughtfully, smiling warmly up at him, "you look very handsome," you stated playfully, hooking a finger underneath the chain, tugging him towards you lightly.

he faltered for a moment, almost stumbling into you. not because of your light tug, but because of your words. handsome. he loved that compliment - was one of his favorites. however, the one bit of praise that always sent him to his knees was being called pretty.

"so pretty, az," you whispered again, seemingly more to yourself than to him, eyes caught on his neck.

okay, so now azriel was fucked.

a/n: okay, i think this was my favorite installation of this series so far. i'm giggling and kicking my feet, and i'm the one writing it lmfao. azriel is making me WEAK, i need to lay down now. let me know what you think! thank you for reading <3

tag list: @stressed-reader @vhjlucky13 @scarsandallaz @victory-salads @weirdo-fun @topaz125 @mrsjna @lovegoodlunaa @lilah-asteria @andreperez11 @luna9876 @kennedy-brooke

let me know if you'd like to be added!

#acotar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel imagine #azriel x you #azriel drabble

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lilacs-stars · 8 months ago

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aiming for your heart

this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: you agree to a tutoring session with your pirate classmate, but things end up taking an...unexpected twist. GENRE: pure fluff, a bit of banter CW: nothing much, just mentions of societal pressures WC: 7.9k (they just keep getting longer...)

A/N: I decided to finally do something cute and fluffy after days of working on dark angsty stuff and this felt like a much-needed breath of fresh air. it was so fun to write, so thanks to the anon who requested this for the fun idea! <3 please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd love to know your thoughts!

Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, cir—

“Ahh, oww!” you cry out as a very solid metal object collides with the side of your skull. Your hand instinctively goes up to the spot on your head—which you can already feel starting to swell—as you wince in pain.

You’re supposed to throw the ring in the basket, not at my head, idiot, you think to yourself as you grimace.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you, I swear!” you glance around the room, locking eyes with your classmate just a few tables away, whose wand is still poised in their hand and a bewildered expression planted on their face. “I just can’t seem to control…this gosh darn wand…”

You let out a little sigh, trying your best to not be impatient. After all, you couldn’t expect everyone to be as experienced in this field as you are.

You glance back at the student, who’s rereading their textbook pages for what’s probably the tenth time. As you watch them struggle, a pang of guilt hits you for being so mean and irritable. It’s not like they were trying to hit you, and even though it was just a thought passing through in the privacy of your mind, you still feel as though thinking something mean like that is wrong.

You push your chair back and rise from your seat, wand tightly gripped in one hand. Walking over to your classmate’s desk, you give a small smile as you ask them, “Need any help?”

They look up at you with wide eyes. “Oh, yes, please! Enchantment of Magical Objects is literally the hardest class ever!”

You grin again, keeping your demeanor light and friendly, like always. “Okay, so first, you go up, then swish, then circle your wand back around, and finally flick, and then…”

You copy the movements with your own wand as you speak, small magical sparks flickering off it at your gestures. After you complete your little demonstration, you both watch as a hand-sized sleek metal ring, somewhat resembling a circular horseshoe, levitates off the desk and neatly lands in a bucket in the center of the room.

Today’s assignment in your Enchantment class is to use the Aiming Spell to throw the rings into a bucket. Safe to say, it wasn’t really going well for most of the class.

“Wow, that was amazing! You’re so good at this Y/N!” your now starry-eyed classmate exclaims. “And I can barely get my rings off my desk…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there,” you smile reassuringly. “After all, I’ve had a lot of experience around wands and enchantments.”

“Yeah, I suppose that is right. I guess not everyone can be as talented with magic as the Good Witch’s very own daughter.”

A small laugh escapes your lips, and you bid farewell to your classmate as you make your way back to your seat. They aren’t wrong, after all. Your mother, Glinda, taught you how to use a wand as soon as you could walk. You’ve been watching her use magic for ages, so it’s not a surprise to anyone that you’re top of your class.

You sit back down, getting back to work. Even though you know you’ve already mastered the spell, you still have some class time left, which you decide to use wisely and continue practicing the spell.

Staring at the pile of metal rings in front of you, you take a deep breath and begin the task of making each one levitate off your desk and make a perfect arch towards the basket.

Up, swish, circle, flick. Up—swoosh!

A flying ring shoots straight past your face, barely missing you by only a few inches. You stumble backwards in your chair, quite startled. Still, it isn’t unusual to see objects flying around the classroom, or rather, objects flying where they’re not supposed to.

A moment later, another one whizzes past you again. Then a third, which gets so close to your face that you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Annoyed, your head snaps to your right, trying to figure out who keeps nearly decapitating you.

You glance around, finally locking eyes with what seems to be the culprit. Chair leaning against the wall, tipped back on its hind two legs, sits a figure with deep brown eyes and smokey eyeshadow look to match. A smirk is planted on his face, a mischievous glint in his gaze. He wears a dark red jacket on top of a black dress shirt, the collar disheveled and his tie loose around his neck. Contrary to his tousled outfit, his medium-length brown hair is neatly slicked back. One of his hands leisurely holds a wand while the other rests behind his head, and combined with the way he has a leg crossed over the other, one would think he’s enjoying a nice day at the beach instead of sitting in class at one of the most prestigious academies in the land.

You fix him with a look, your gaze subconsciously morphing into a glare as he jerks the wand up, causing one of the metal rings in front of him to levitate a few inches off his desk. With a flick of the wrist, he sends it flying across the room once again. Having learned your lesson, this time you duck down, eyes following the disk as it soars across the room. You watch as it shoots straight towards its target, who expertly crouches as the metal ring hits the wall behind him with a thud, falling to the ground and joining the previous disks.

The target of these attacks is a boy you recognize to be a good friend of the ring-throwing troublemaker, with light brown hair brushed away from his forehead and dressed in a dark green shirt with a black choker around his neck. Morgie le Fay shoots a glare across the room to his perpetrator, making a face that could only mean “You’ll pay for this later.”

Another disk comes shooting at his head, and he ducks down yet again. This time, the metal hits the wall so hard, you worry it left a dent. Unable to take their child-like behavior any longer, you get up from your seat for the second time and stomp your way over to the disk-thrower.

“Hook!” you say as you reach his table. The man in question tilts his head towards you, looking up with an amused grin.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, lassie?” he replies, his accent crisp and unmistakable.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, knowing it would be terribly rude, even if he was getting on your nerves like no other. You settle for fixing him with another look. “Could you please stop hurling those disks around? It’s not the assignment, and you practically hit me!”

“My apologies, love,” Hook replies, still peering up at you, unbothered. You honestly doubt he means it, so you frown and try again. “I’m being serious, Hook.”

“As am I,” he replies, making you want to smack that stupid smirk off his face. Deep breaths, deep breaths, you remind yourself. Violence is never the answer. You find it funny how you can almost hear your mother’s voice as you repeat those words in your head, the ones she always tells you.

“So you’ll stop?” you ask, raising a brow and putting your hands on your hips to show him you’re not messing around.

“Ah, well, you see,” Hook starts, and it takes every ounce of benevolence in you to not internally combust at whatever excuse he’s planning to come up with. “I’m having a tad bit of trouble with this spell, love. No matter what I do, I simply can’t seem to lock on to the right target.”

At this, you raise your eyebrows again, disbelief laced through your every cell. “Why don’t you give it a go,” you say, jerking your chin towards the basket in the middle of the room. “You never know until you don’t try.”

Hook leans forward in his chair, righting it again so it stands on all four legs. He raises his wand, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s actually concentrating on the task at hand. One of the metal disks rises into the air, levitating a meter above the floor.

Hook flicks his wand forward and the disk sails away, missing the basket in an almost laughable attempt at execution. Instead of the proper target, it lands on the edge of a file cabinet in the far corner of the room. You pray for the poor soul that will inevitably open one of its drawers, only to be smacked in the head by a piece of solid steel.

Eyebrows raised, Hook unabashedly turns back around to face you with that grin of his. “So how was that, love? Satisfied?”

“Not quite,” you huff, shaking your head at him. “Honestly, I haven’t seen anyone make such a…uh, interesting attempt at this assignment.” Deep down, a little part of you really wants to say much meaner things, but you bite back your words, knowing that showing contempt never did anyone any good.

“Interesting, eh?” Hook’s smirk grows, and you can see him already scheming inside that villainous little mind of his. “Say, Y/N”—he uncrosses his legs, leaning in your direction—“you’re the top student of this class, are you not?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but refrain from saying anything you know you’ll later regret. “Yes, and?”

“Well, as you can clearly see here, I require a bit of assistance with this assignment. After all, not everyone grew up waving wands like you,” he quips, flourishing the wand in his hand as if it were an ordinary stick. Abruptly, he stills his movements and drops the wand on his desk, before turning to face you directly, locking eyes. “Would you be so kind as to teach me a few things?”

You quirk your brows, albeit attempting to keep a straight face. “Are you asking me to…tutor you?”

Hook grins yet again. “This evening, 7 o’clock, the common area in the East Wing.” He puts his hand on his knees as he gets up, now leering a few inches above you. Still holding your gaze—although he has to tilt his head down to do so—he asks, “I’ll see you then?”

You blink twice, mind replaying the events that led to you getting yourself stuck in this situation. On the one hand, you definitely don't want to have a one-on-one study session with a villain—and an annoyingly smug one at that. Honestly, the few interactions you are forced to have with him in class are far enough for you.

But on the other hand, he is asking for help to improve his grades…after all, it’s not every day someone the likes of him shows interest in learning. Plus, you know that it’s not right to turn away a person in need of your help, no matter how insufferable they are. Especially if they’re always flashing you a smile filled with shining white teeth and full, plump pink lips.

A sigh escapes your mouth before you can stop it as you resign yourself to your fate. “Alright, I guess. But come prepared to learn. That means you need your wand, your textbooks, notebo—”

He cuts you off with a passive sweep of his hook, much to your annoyance. Leaning in just a little closer to you, enough to make your palms slightly sweaty, his face tilts down even nearer to yours. “It’s a date, then,” Hook says, his voice soft but still with that teasing tone it always seems to carry.

“It’s not a date!” you call out as the bell rings, but he’s already making his way out of the classroom, sauntering off to do who-knows-what.

Heavens, what have I gotten myself into, you think, placing a hand on your forehead as you breathe out a long, heavy sigh.

The evening rolls around far too quickly for your liking, and before you know it you’re making your way out of your doom room and up a set of stairs.

You keep on thinking about how you had ample time to back out of this arrangement; plus, you would be lying if you said you didn't consider it a number of times. But each time, you remind yourself that you are doing a good deed for someone obviously in need of a good influence. That you have to be selfless and put aside your personal feelings to serve a good cause, as all heroes do. That your opinions don't really matter—after all, the best heroes are the ones who make the deepest sacrifices, right?

So that’s how you find yourself dragging heavy feet across a corridor, a tiny voice in your head begging you to turn around, as you finally reach the common area set as your meetup spot. You glance at your wristwatch, which reads 6:55. You had decided to leave a bit early so you could arrive with a few minutes to spare. As your mother always reminds you, “It’s better to be an hour early than a minute late.”

Pulling out a chair at a nearby two-person table, you sit down, plopping your bookbag next to you. You had stuffed it full of your personal notes, your wand, and several textbooks you thought could help Hook.

Tapping a pencil on the wooden desk, you sigh, glancing at your clock again. 6:57. Thinking back on your previous decision, you wonder why you left so early. After all, you have Hook down in your mind as the type to be extremely unpunctual. Leaning back in your chair out of sheer boredom, you start to clearly picture Hook showing up a good hour late. Heck, you’d be surprised if he even shows up at all.

The clock hits 6:59, and you begin to debate how long you’re willing to stay here before giving up and returning to your dorm. Would ten minutes be enough? Fifteen? Thirty? The more you think about it, the more you can imagine this being some sort of elaborate prank to trick you. After all, why would a delinquent villain like Hook ever be interested in planning a tutoring session?

You sigh once again, angry at yourself for being so naive as to fall for his little trick. Drumming your fingers on the table as you put your head down, you mentally punch yourself for your gullibility.

Which is why you nearly jump out of your own skin at the sound of a loud thud sound from in front of you. You jerk back into your chair, arms flailing as it tips, causing you to nearly topple backwards. With your reflexes kicking in, your hand latches onto the edge of the table—thankfully—and you manage to pull yourself back to a more stable position.

Hand clutching your pounding heart, you roll your head back to be greeted with that stupid little smirk that haunts your thoughts. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright, love. After all, we were planning to meet up, were we not?” Hook says, tone extremely smug and a tiny bit pitiful at your frightened state.

You raise your arm and flick your wrist, reading the time displayed on your clock. 7:00. He…he showed up exactly on time, you think, praying that your shock isn’t displayed on your face.

As if he can read your mind—and in all honesty, maybe he can—Hook says, “You didn’t doubt me, now, did you, darling? How could I skimp out on our little date?”

“It’s not a date,” you tell him once again, not even trying to hide the annoyance in your voice this time.

“Whatever you say.” Hook gives a little grin as he raises his eyebrows for a second. Before you can continue to argue, he pulls out the chair across from you and sits down. You eye a small black leather satchel that dangles from his hook as he drops it down on the floor. Huh, he even came prepared.

He leans in, arms resting on the table, as he fixes you with a sly grin. “So, Miss Teacher, what are you going to teach me today?”

You hate to pass on the opportunity to make a snarky remark, but you know that rubbing Hook the wrong way is not going to make these next few hours any less sufferable. Instead, you simply go for a “How about you start by getting out your materials?”

“As you wish, m’lady.” An irritated sigh escapes your lips, and you realize you’ve been sighing a lot more than usual ever since you got in this…predicament. You watch, somewhat impatiently, as Hook reaches down and draws a single notebook and his practice wand out of the leather satchel. Glancing at his materials, then back at yours, you realize that you came a lot more prepared than he did, even though you’re not the one trying to learn here. Well, I guess him putting in some effort still better than nothing.

You pull out one of the thick textbooks from your bag, the used animal skin cover peeling at the edges and the pages yellowed from the wear of time.

“First, we’re going to get started with the theory of enchantments and spells.” You flip through the pages until you land on the first of many detailing the basics of spellcasting. “Even though we’re going to be focusing on the Aiming Spell, the underlying principles are pretty much the same for all spells you use. Now, you see here, highlighted in the chart are the five main…”

You chance a glance over at Hook, voice trailing off when you realize he isn’t listening. In fact, he's not even looking at the textbook placed in the middle of the desk. Instead, his gaze is fixed on…

…you?

“Hey! Why are you staring at me like that, you weirdo!” you exclaim, pulling back from the table. Hook remains unflinching, his chin in his good hand as he stares up at you with a sparkle in his eye.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, love. You’re just so…so entrancing.”

You blink hard, recoiling at his words. He’s not flirting with you…is he? No, there’s no way. Don’t be overly arrogant, you convince yourself. This is just his personality, how he usually acts. The same way he calls everyone “love” and “darling.” There’s absolutely nothing more to it than him saying anything he can think of to fluster you and throw you off track.

…Right?

You ignore the stupid little flutter your heart does at not just being called pretty, or beautiful, or any of the normal compliments. No, you aren’t normal, you’re entrancing…

Snap out of it! you internally scold yourself. This is just another one of his little antics. You’re just letting him win by getting in your head.

“Look, I didn’t come here and set aside this chunk of my valuable time to tutor you, only for you to not listen. If you came here to mess around—” you rant, but you’re cut off before you can get everything off your chest.

“I apologize, lassie. I promise, I’ll focus from here on out,” Hook vows. You eye him with a glare, feeling very distrustful, but you’re only met with his rather sincere gaze.

You let out another breath, once again regretting agreeing to this. “Fine. Get out your notebook. You’re going to want to take notes on this.”

Hook nods and reaches into his satchel, which is still lying on the floor. “If I’m being completely honest—which I assume you must hold in high regard, being a hero and whatnot—I really didn’t expect you to be so…irritable.”

You shoot Hook another glare, before realizing that you’re just proving his point. You give a brief roll of your eyes as you attempt a smile. “I’m not usually like this,” you say, fighting to keep a decently pleasant expression on your face. “You just really find a way to, how should I put this, you really—”

“Push your buttons?” Hook finishes for you, raising his eyebrows.

“I was going to say you really find a way to get on my nerves, but that too,” you respond, with obviously forced cheerfulness. “Whatever, we need to get back to studying. For real this time.”

Hook replies with an “Of course, m’lady,” before you begin your lecture again on the foundation of enchantments. This time, he makes sure to periodically glance down at the textbook pages and occasionally nod or ask a question, all to ensure that you don’t catch him staring at you again. Unbeknownst to you, adoration shines bright in his eyes as he studies your features, committing them to memory every time you’re not looking his way.

You spend some time going over theory with Hook, until you can feel him growing restless, causing you to start wondering if people like him have a capacity for how much information they can absorb at one time. Deciding that theory is no good if it’s not put to practice, you slam the textbook shut once you reach the end of a page, standing up.

Hook looks up at you, a slightly startled expression on his face. “Come on,” you say. “Now we’re going to see how much you paid attention by putting your lesson to good use.”

You hope to see a look of fear flash across his face, but his demeanor stays completely even. Feeling a bit let down, you remind yourself that he still has to actually cast the spell. Watch him mess it up, you think. Let’s see how smug he is then, huh?

Reaching down into your bookbag, you pull out a small bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth. You open it to reveal a handful of metal disks, similar to the ones you had used earlier in class. You empty them out on the table before walking over to the middle of the room and placing the cloth down on the floor, a good number of meters away from your table. “This is your target area,” you explain. “Stand by the table and get those rings to land within the borders of the cloth.”

Let’s see how well you fare now, pretty boy.

“Aye, that’s not fair,” Hook says, scrunching his brow as he gestures towards your setup with his hook. “That cloth’s much smaller than the basket we used in class. And the distance is far greater.”

“Well, if you learn how to get the spell right with tougher constraints than the requirement, you’ll be sure to do great for the real thing.” You flash him a wink as you watch his jaw part slightly, an incredulous expression painted on his face. “That’s how I always ace my exams.”

Hook draws in a breath, putting his ever-famous smirk back on his face, although you can feel his unease this time. He picks up his wand, turning around to point it at disks on the table.

Up. He rolls his hand upwards, and one of the disks starts to levitate a foot in the air.

Swish. Hook jerks his wrist to the side, causing the disk to start gently vibrating with potential energy.

Circle. He rotates his hand counterclockwise, drawing a circle with the tip of the wand.

Flick. You watch with bated breath as Hook flicks the wand towards the cloth in the middle of the room.

Both of you follow the disc’s arc through the air with tense anticipation, as it soars, soars…

…and ends up missing the cloth by a good three feet.

Hook gives a small, halfhearted laugh, trying to keep up the suave facade. Yet you notice the way his shoulders slump forward, the way his body stiffens in an embarrassing shock.

Part of you feels a wickedly twisted satisfaction at his failure—but as soon as you recognize it for what it is, you shove it away, repulsed at the thought of you even coming close experiencing such an emotion. Plus, the majority of you feels rather disappointed at the undesirable outcome. Whether it’s Hook’s chagrin rubbing off on you, or the voice in your head whispering that you, as his teacher, failed at your job, you can’t help but feel a bit let down at his messing up.

“Hey, it’s fine. Let’s try again,” you say softly, your usual eager-to-help manner coming back at the sight of someone needing comforting.

And so, Hook tries again. And again. And again.

Finally, after the seventh or eighth try, he puts the wand back down on the table. “I don’t know what to tell you, love. No matter how hard I try, it’s simply not working.” You sigh, looking at the floor before you, which was now littered with disks. “Hey, at least you got closer each time! That’s still progress.” You attempt to raise his spirits a bit, but he just fixes you with a look that tells you he’s not one to fall for your false positivity.

“Uhm…” You hesitate, not quite sure what to do next or how to fix this. “How about you see how I do it, and try to copy that?”

Hook gives a small nod and you fish out your wand, pulling up your sleeves and taking a deep breath to prepare. Focusing on one of the disks on the table, you start the particular movements. Up. Swish. Circle. Flick!

Both of you watch in somewhat astonishment as the ring curves perfectly through the air, flying with grace, as it lands directly in the center of the cloth.

Hook looks at you with raised eyebrows. Although that little part of you wants to rub it in his face, the fact that a hero, out of all people, bested him, you decide that torturing him with your teasing is only going to make him less likely to get the spell right.

“You see that? Now, try to copy it yourself,” you instruct.

And so, Hook makes a few more attempts, landing closer to the cloth each time, now only a couple inches away—yet never actually making contact with it.

You study his movements carefully as he casts the spell, trying to figure out what he’s doing wrong. After a few more of his failed attempts, you decide to try a different approach.

“Okay, watch me do it again, but this time come hold my wand from behind so you can get a feel for how I cast it,” you say, glancing up at Hook. “After all, it’s all in the wrist.” You recite a line your mother always says, one that often replays in your mind as you cast a spell. In your opinion, her guidance is the main reason that you’re so good at spells.

You’re still sitting down in your chair, pushing it in a little to provide room for him to come up behind you and reach your wand.

You were expecting Hook to get rather close; after all, there aren’t many ways for two people to hold the same wand in the position you were in without a tight proximity. What you weren’t expecting was the way he comes up from behind you leisurely, deliberately. The way his chest presses into your back as he leans in, arm brushing against yours as he extends it towards the wand. The way you can feel his exhales on your skin, breathing down your neck—literally—causes goosebumps to rise up and down your arms. The way his natural aroma engulfs you completely, overwhelming your senses all at once. How his large hand feels on yours as he places it on top, curling his fingers around the wand—and yours, as well. The way you can feel the smirk dancing on his face, looking down at you with what you expect to be half-lidded eyes.

And the way your heart races, good heavens. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought you just ran a marathon. Your body simultaneously heats up and freezes at his touches, no matter how small, your mind becoming overly aware of every point of contact you have with him. You fight against the overstimulation flooding your senses, resisting the urge to wipe your sweaty palms on your legs, while hoping that the wand doesn’t slip out of your hand as perform the incantation.

Truth be told, although you definitely won’t admit this to anyone: you really haven’t had much experience with romance, or anything of the sorts. All your life, you’ve focused on doing good deeds and keeping up with your studies, aiming to be the best of the best in the hero world. Which is probably why no boy has ever taken interest in you; instead of going to dances or out on dates, you've always spent your Friday nights locked away in your room, studying hard to make sure you ace your exams. Plus, with your goody-two-shoes streak, you aren't exactly the most sought-out person in your class.

Which is why with the way Hook flirts with you, and now, the way you can feel his inhales and exhales against your skin—subconsciously trying to match the rhythm of his breathing—your brain is short-circuiting. The lack of romantic attention you’ve received your whole life is behind why you don't know how to react to Hook's antics, while still internally freaking out at his movements and words.

You inhale a shaky breath, trying to steady your quivering hand and hope that Hook doesn’t notice your reaction. But after the amused little hum he gives, your embarrassment grows by the second. Trying your best to focus on the task at hand, you say, “Okay, here goes.”

Up. You feel Hook’s grip tighten around your hand, just a little bit but still enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Swish. The disk vibrates with extreme intensity, to the point where you’re afraid it’ll break apart, despite the metal structure.

Circle. As you circle your wrist around, you feel Hook’s arm rub against yours even more, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Gods, the things this man is doing to you.

Flick. You flick the wand towards the cloth yet again, jerking your head sideways to follow it as it flies across the room. Agonizing in how it ignites every nerve in your body, you feel Hook’s head brush against the top of yours as he follows your movements, watching the disk soar.

It seems, for a minute, as if it’s going to land right on top of the previous one. But to both your shocks, it falls just outside the borders of the cloth, barely touching the edge.

Your face absolutely burns in embarrassment, palms dripping with sweat now. Hook tilts his head towards yours—which you feel all too well—as he says, far closer to your ear than you would’ve liked, “Well, it seems like even the master makes mistakes, love.”

Fuming, you finally give into the urge and drop the wand to wipe your hands on your clothes. Screw him, you mentally curse. It’s all his fault. I’ve never messed up this spell before.

And as much as you want to blame him, you know that it’ll do you absolutely no good to tell him the fact that he was so close to you made your brain short-circuit to such an extent that you messed up a spell you could do since you were five.

You shake your head, refusing to accept your failure. “No, I…I don’t know what happened. It must have been a faulty disk. Just…I’m going to try again.”

Hook raises his eyebrows at you—or at least, you’re pretty sure he does, as you can’t see him from behind. You grab your wand again, and without even telling him to do so, Hook leans in and places his hand back over yours, your fingers trapped between his and the wand.

Internally, you find yourself growing impossibly more annoyed at him. Honestly, did he really have to go back to that position, the one that made you mess up the spell in the first place? You take a deep, steadying breath, forcing away all thoughts of Hook and how his dark brown eyes, beautiful and rich like the bark of the trees back in Oz, are boring into your skull right now. You simply can’t afford to get distracted again. Messing up the spell once is one thing—sure, everyone makes mistakes, don’t they? But twice? It would be absolutely inexcusable.

Twice would mean that you are not as adept as you thought you were, not talented enough in the one thing that you've been sure of for your whole life.

Remember the words.

Up, swish, circle, flick!

Fueled by your self-directed rage, you ensure that every movement you make is precise, sharp, and without a single tremor going through your hand. This time, the disk slices through the air with a clean, aerodynamic curve, and lands…

…right on top of your first one.

You beam, regaining your former confidence in your spellcasting abilities.

“The master may sometimes make mistakes, but they’re still the master,” you gloat. “Now come on, you need to practice till you get as good as that.”

You and Hook spend quite some time on practicing the spell, with you giving him pointers and him—surprisingly—improving. It seems as though your hands-on demonstration really helped him, as his skills greatly improved.

Soon, in every set of ten rings he practiced on, he was consistently getting six or seven of them within the boundaries of the cloth, with one or two more landing on the edge, half-in.

After one round where he managed to get nine of the disks touching the cloth—his personal best so far—you decide he needs something even more challenging.

“Woah, that was a really good round,” you praise. Hook turns to face you, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that his normal smirk seems a little less snarky and a little more…genuine.

“Still not as good as you, though, love,” Hook replies. You can tell he’s trying hard to maintain his nonchalant front, especially when it comes to academics, but the pride in his eyes and the earnest grip on his wand tell a different story. Honestly, you like him better this way. Less of him pretending to be a bad boy villain, and more of his real personality.

And in this moment, as you subtly study his features and think about his change in behavior over the past few hours, a thought that’s never even come close to crossing your mind suddenly pops up. What if villains, just like heroes, feel pressured to uphold a certain facade? The same way that you’ve always felt like you just have to be good, no matter the cost, no matter how hard it is for you, maybe villains feel the same way. Maybe they believe they always have to be bad, troublesome, and cruel. Even if that’s not who they truly are.

And through the lens of your new insight, you start seeing Hook in a different light. Just like how you feel as if being good and helpful and cheery all the time is a burden, how sometimes you wish you could just let loose and be selfish, maybe villains feel like being evil is a burden. Maybe Hook feels compelled to act smug and suave, even though that isn’t who he truly feels like being all the time.

You begin to feel a deep sense of guilt for judging him based on his demeanor and criticizing his performance in class. Reflecting back, you realize that you had been unnecessarily harsh on him for something that is likely beyond his control. Gosh, I'm such an idiot, you think, shame burning your cheeks.

Shaking off your remorse, you put on another bright smile and try to respond as cheerfully as possible. “Hey, it’s still a huge improvement from sending the rings flying on top of a filing cabinet in the corner of the room. Or at innocent bystanders’ heads!” This time, you don’t encourage him because you feel pressured to do so, or because that’s who you know you’re supposed to be. You do it because deep down, in your heart, it’s what you feel like saying.

“Hmm, true,” Hook replies, angling his head to the side as he considers your point, the smallest of smiles still dancing on his lips.

“Now, for your final test.” At your statement, Hook raises a brow. “You need something different, something truly challenging. Something to prove your mastery of the Aiming Spell…”

You rack your brain for ideas, but nothing comes to mind. After a moment in silence, Hook speaks up. “I may have an idea.”

Glancing over at him, rather surprised—you were the teacher, after all—you gesture for him to go on.

“Go stand over there by that wall,” he instructs, motioning with his hook to the wall opposite you two. “And put your hands up.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, fixing him with a look of wariness and doubt. You don’t move for a second, still too distrusting of him as you try to imagine what standing in that position has to do with casting a spell. Noticing your hesitation, Hook nods towards the wall again. “Well, go on, love.”

Still suspicious of him, you cave in and walk over to the far side of the room. Pressing your back against the wall as you raise your hands up, the position makes you feel as if you've just been caught red-handed in the midst of a crime. Hook still stands by the table, waiting patiently. You try to think back to the textbook pages you went over with him, wondering if you had accidentally taught him some sort of attack charm that he was planning to use on you.

Feeling your anxiety build, you wriggle your left fingers, wrapping your thumb and middle finger around the base of your pointer. You always wear a special, very pretty ring on that hand, a gift your mother gave to you a few years ago. Fiddling with it while twisting it around and around helps to soothe you, especially when you feel nervous.

But this time, when you go to repeat the same movement you always do, you feel the absence of the familiar metal surface and engravings etched into it. Glancing up at your hand, you confirm that your ring is indeed missing. The only trace of its former presence is the two parallel, circular indents in your skin from wearing it for so long.

Your panic skyrockets now at the loss of one of your favorite possessions, practically forgetting about Hook and the unease that accompanied his bizarre request. That ring had come with a special message; the night you got it, your mother had told you, “Remember when you were younger, and I told you that people are either good or bad? Well, that’s not quite true. No one is really black or white. We’re all just shades of gray. Some people are lighter gray, and some people are darker gray. And although we might be different shades, we all fall under the same color. Remember that, Y/N.”

And you have remembered it. Every time you go to toy with your ring, those words echo in your mind. Your mom had embedded the ring with a marble featuring a swirl of many different shades of gray, a reminder of the message that came along with it. You were too young to truly understand her words back then, but now, especially in these recent moments, you think you’re starting to fully grasp what she meant.

Snapping back to the present, you realize the serious problem you have at hand. “My ring!” you cry. “I could have sworn I had it when I came here…”

“Looking for this?” Hook’s smirk is back in full force. His left arm is raised, and on the crest of his polished metal hook, your precious ring glimmers under the golden lights projected from the ceiling.

“You…! When did you even…” your voice trails off as your mind catches up to your mouth. It must have been when he leaned in, while you were demonstrating the spell. That was the only time he had gotten close enough to you, although you don’t know how in the world he nicked it off your finger without you having the slightest hint.

Then you remember, quite painfully, how flustered you had been in that moment. If you were so distracted that you couldn't even cast a simple spell right, then you certainly wouldn’t have had enough brainpower to notice a skilled thief steal from you.

“Hey! Give that back!” you exclaim, huffing angrily, a frown etched deep into your face.

“I will, darling,” Hook replies smugly. “Now, raise your hands up again. And don’t wiggle your fingers around this time.”

“Give me my ring back first!” you demand, your previous annoyance towards him coming right back.

“Let me do this first, and then you’ll get your ring. Hands up.” At your glare, Hook tilts his head to the side and gives you a look. “Don’t you trust me?”

Well, of course not, is the first thought that pops into your mind. You’re a liar and a thief, and above all, a villain.

But then you remember your mother’s words, your earlier revelation and how, just for a moment, you glimpsed Hook through a different light. So, although you definitely won't go as far as saying that you trust him, you still empathize with him enough to give in to his request.

Wordlessly, you raise your hands back up to your sides, palms facing in front of you, while fighting the urge to fidget again. You debate whether or not it’d be best to close your eyes for this, but you ultimately decide that if Hook does try to pull any more of his little tricks, all your senses should be sharp and aware.

And so you stand, frozen, as Hook raises the wand. For a second, you think he’s going to cast the spell on you. But instead, he uses his good hand to remove the ring from where it’s stuck in his hook, instead placing it dangling from the tip. He points his wand at the ring, repeating the maneuvers you two practiced so many times.

Up. The ring lifts off his hook and levitates just in front of him.

Swish. It starts vibrating like the disks, but due to its small size, your cherished ring begins to rotate on its axis.

Circle. With Hook’s circular movement of the wand, the ring’s spinning accelerates, locking on to its target—whatever that is.

Flick. For one final time, Hook flicks his wrist, this time towards you.

You watch, your heart pounding as fast as ever, as the ring—your ring—curves through the sky as it falls, getting closer and closer to you. You slam your eyes shut for just a beat, unable to bear the anticipation, before remembering your earlier rationale again.

Eyes flying open instantly, you regain your vision just as the ring falls, falls, falls, landing…

…directly on your finger.

But not the finger that you previously wore it on. Your eyes widen again in disbelief as it slips perfectly around your ring finger.

“Uh…I…uhm…” you stammer, confused and shocked and overwhelmed with far too many things at once to form a coherent sentence. How in the world did he cast such a precise Aiming Spell, in a situation where it wouldn’t have succeeded had he been even a centimeter off? And if he was so precise with his location pinpointing, then why in the world did he put it on your left ring finger??

“Come on, spit it out, love,” Hook replies teasingly. “You can say it, don’t be afraid.”

Your mind is working far too hard for you to shoot him a glare, but you mentally do it anyway. “That was…impressive,” you finally admit, although you wish you didn’t when Hook’s smug grin grows twice as wide. Ugh, his ego is already big enough. I did not need to inflate it like that.

“Could you always cast the spell that well?” you ask, still stunned at his precision. You honestly couldn’t see how anyone who had been sending disks flying all across the room a mere few hours ago was now casting spells with the accuracy of someone who had been doing this for years.

“Why, of course not. You saw how I was earlier.” Hook’s grin grows even wider as he adds, “It’s all because I had a wonderful teacher.”

You still frown at him skeptically, walking back towards the table where he stands. “I highly doubt it’s because of that. I mean, I don’t know if even I could pull something like that off with such little practice.”

At this, Hook gives a little laugh. “What do they say, the student exceeds the teacher?”

You roll your eyes at him. “No, they call it ‘beginner’s luck.’ You should be happy you got it right this time, because you might not get so lucky on your exams.”

Hook grins again, and as much as you detest the pleasure he gets from teasing you—and though you’d never admit it—a small, dark gray part of you enjoys the playful banter between you two.

“That’s why I have you, darling. If I ever need more help, I’ll know who to run to.” He leans in close to you, so close, until his mouth is right next to your ear. You start having flashbacks to your previous experiences with Hook being in a close proximity, and the combined feelings from both your memories and his current actions causes your body to heat up in a way you didn’t even know was possible.

He tilts his head down ever so slightly towards you, his lips feathering across your ear. “And you won’t be able to get out of helping me, my little goody-goody.”

Your mind is absolutely spinning at his words, his touch, his presence, his everything. You desperately struggle to formulate some sort of response, but just as you open your mouth, ready to question his choice of ring placement, a deep, low horn sounds, reverberating off the walls.

Curfew.

Hook breaks away from you as you glance down at your wristwatch. The clock shows exactly 10:00. Gods, how did the time pass by so quickly?

You glance back up at Hook, deciding to ignore the way he so alluringly whispered in your ear just seconds ago. “Well, uh, we have to get going, then,” you awkwardly say, scratching at your neck.

Hook stands there for a moment, staring at you whilst completely motionless, making you wonder what he’s thinking and what he’s planning to do. Just as you’re about to bid him a goodnight and turn away, he reaches his good hand out, grabbing your left one. He holds it delicately in his hand, his palm cupped upwards with your fingers resting gently on top.

Slowly, and while keeping his head up just enough to maintain eye contact with you the entire way down, he bends into a bow in front of you. Only does he avert his gaze when he finally reaches your hand, looking down at your ring, which still sits on your ring finger, as he places a kiss on the bright stone.

He peers back up at you, deep brown eyes wide and expressive.

“Until we meet again, m’lady.”

on to part 2! ->

taglist: @4ng3l-ch1ld @astrynyx @0strawberrysorbet0

just leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: the demons I had to fight to not name this "if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it" haha. anyways thanks for reading!

do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

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thestarrynightslover · 10 months ago

Text

The Trials of Dating in Secrecy

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 2,374

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, workplace romance, nudity, and verbal sexual harassment (all very light).

Summary: Okay, so this one features a bit of work issues (workplace romance), and a bit of jealous!Harvey + Harvey taking care of his girl, as requested by Anon.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Well this is the first request I took and I’ll admit that it was a bit challenging, not cause it was particularly hard but because I wasn’t super inspired at first, nor did I have the time. Though, now, I think it worked? Idk, don’t feel like this was my best work either but feel free to leave some feedback, and thanks for reading!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

“Seriously, Harvey!” You let out annoyed. “I think I should probably go home now,” you said, thinking that if you did go home you could keep yourself from saying something you might regret later.

“Oh, really? So now you're mad at me because I’m simply asking a bit more of this relationship?” He asked, looking ready to have a full-on fight.

“No, Harvey! What I’m actually upset about is how you’re making today all about yourself and your needs, when I’m the one going through it all!” You really didn’t wanna shout but the little bit of patience you had left vanished when his questions reminded you of the little stunt he’d pulled today.

Earlier that day, at the firm, you had been giving a consult to a prospective client on an intellectual property lawsuit he may be looking at and the guy seemed a bit disinterested in his own situation, giving you — and by you, you mean your body — most of his attention. But that was fineish, it was a regular occurrence, being a young woman in that field, so you didn’t really mind it anymore, at this point — after all, ignoring the occasional sexual harassment was usually the easiest route to advancing in your career. The problem was that the man started interrupting your professional analysis to hit on you, and eventually, he reached for your forearm, caressing it as he spoke. And that was exactly when Harvey, the man you’d secretly been dating for about 7 months now, decided to walk into your office. As he entered your office, you yanked your arm out of the man’s grasp but you couldn’t shut him up just as quickly, so your boyfriend got there just in time to hear a “So, if you really like yourself a sturdy stallion,” he pointed at a framed picture of you riding a horse on the wall behind you, “you should ride mine, someday. If you know what I mean,” he finalized with a wink, and how on Earth could you — or anyone hearing that — not know what he meant when he had said it so suggestively?

“What did you just say to her?” Harvey’s voice came sharply, indicating he was about to get into a fistfight with the man who was probably not going to be your client now.

“Oh, we’re just chatting about- uh, who are you, again?” The shorter guy had the nerve to ask.

After that, Harvey was so quick to hoist the man up from the chair in front of you, by the collar of his dress shirt, that you didn’t even have time to react before he started punching the guy right in the face.

“I’m her boyfriend, that’s who I am! And you will be out of here before I take you out myself.” The man didn’t fall backward solely because Harvey had a hold on him, still, so he just stared at the other attorney in shock. “What are you looking at? Get out!” Harvey shouted once again, tossing the man towards your office door.

After that, you tried calming Harvey down but you barely had any time for it before Jessica and Louis barged into your office, revolted by their partner’s behavior and asking what had gotten into him to attack a prospective client like that.

“The prick was propositioning my-” But you cut him off before he could complete his sentence.

“He was harassing me during the meeting, and Harvey walked in and heard it, and, as a good colleague, he wanted to defend my honor, I guess,” you said with a short, humorless laugh while making air quotes with your fingers.

“A good colleague?” The tall senior partner asked quietly, hurt pooling in his eyes.

“Well… That’s terrible but you know better than to do this, Harvey,” Jessica told him.

“You know, I’d never thought I’d see the day you would act like such a caring gentleman for anyone, Specter,” Louis added, as always, eager to make things worse. “And, (y/n), at the very least you need to reach out to that man and take him out to an apology dinner. Because you are well aware of how important it is for you to get more clients.”

“Yes, I-” You stopped what you were saying mid-sentence because the man you loved was storming out of your office and all you wanted to do was chase after him.

“And now you’re gonna let him get off with that shit he pulled this easy?” Louis shouted, obviously trying to be heard by Harvey too. “I mean, this firm is turning into a complete mess, Jessica! It’s like you can’t control your office anymore! A junior partner who barely has her own clients and a senior partner battering prospective clients? We’re gonna go bankrupt like this, if not sued for malpractice altogether! And-”

“Louis, will you shut up, for God’s sake? I’m the managing partner and I’ll deal with both of them. Now go and let me talk to (y/n) alone!” Your boss responded, making you apprehensive about the conversation you were about to have with her.

As he left the room, Jessica motioned for you to sit on the couch with her. “(y/n), first of all, are you okay? Because if that man did something to you, then…”

“No, no! The harassment was just verbal,” not that that made it any better, you thought to yourself. “Harvey intervened before it could get to that.”

“Right. Well, that’s a relief.” She paused for an instant, giving one of those smiles she used when she was going to convince you of something unpleasant. “Now, as much as it pains me to admit it, Louis is right. You need more clients. I didn’t think it’d be good to tell you this after our conversation but the board has been pressuring me about making personnel cuts. Directed mostly to the partners who aren’t producing much. And you know that I like your work, and see your value to the company but those old men in suits only care about numbers, so if you don’t manage to bring in a new client by the end of the week… I am going to push for you to go after that man’s account again. Using whatever means necessary.” She declared, still sporting that smile. “Are we clear?”

At that, a defeated “Yes, Jessica” was all you could mutter. And then she left. And all you could think about was how you’d somehow managed to screw up both your professional and personal life, all at once.

Leaving work that day, after setting up four meetings with potential clients for the following days, all you could think about was making up with Harvey, so you went to his place to talk. And that’s how you got to the argument you were having now. He was upset about the whole ‘good colleague’ thing and you were upset because you could have handled the situation without burning that bridge with the guy, which was multiplied by ten when you remembered that you were on deadline to get more clients — something you hadn’t told Harvey.

“Making it all about-” He’d started saying angrily but stopped himself and his voice instantly took on a soft, caring tone, “wait, what do you mean you’re going through it all?”

Now you realized what you’d said.

“Uh, I meant nothing. I was just being dramatic, is all,” you stated unconvincingly.

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. If anyone is dramatic in this relationship, it’s me and we both know it,” he said, making you crack a small smile, thinking of how right he was. “So tell me, honey, what’s going on?”

“I, um, I’m being encouraged, or, better said, ordered to expand my client list.” There, you’d said it.

“What? Why?”

“You know why, Harvey. You just can’t be a partner at the firm if you don’t bring enough money in.” You told him, defeated.

“But… but you’re so good! You bring such good attention to the company’s name, your clients might actually be more satisfied with your work than mine, and they are very satisfied with my work,” he said matter-of-factly with a grin on his face.

“Yeah, maybe. But you might not know this because you've always been a man and Jessica’s protégé but for the rest of us, women trying to be successful at Pearson, the bar is just much higher, babe. And they're threatening to take away my partnership, maybe even my job altogether, if I don't get it done,” you finally finished your confession with teary eyes, even though you didn’t want to cry about it.

“That’s… that’s just unacceptable!” He let out, running his hands through his hair, “Did- does Jessica know about that? Because I can-” He tried to go on with his speech but you cut him off.

“She knows, Harvey. She says she likes my work but her hands are tied.” You let him know, sighing a little.

“But… that’s not… that doesn’t make any sense! It’s just not like Jessica to give in like that…” Harvey commented, starting to look defeated as well.

“Maybe when it’s about someone like you. But with me? She might not even be trying all that hard.” To which he responded with a mischievous glint in his eyes, perking up.

“Then, I’ll talk to her! I’ll tell her that, if she doesn’t secure your place in the company, I’m going to start listening to those offers I get all the time!” He said smiling widely this time.

“Harvey! You can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’d be incredibly stupid, and unprofessional, and-” You didn’t wanna finish your sentence but you had to. “And, that way, she’ll know.”

“Know?”

“About us. That we’re dating,” you finished sighing again.

“She’ll kn-” he stopped mid-sentence, full of disbelief. “And what’s so wrong with that?”

“Harvey…”

“No, don’t ‘Harvey’ me, (y/n)! If you don’t want me to help because it’d be unprofessional, then that’s okay. I can understand that. But what exactly are you trying to tell me, huh? That our relationship’s never gonna see the light of day? Or are you trying to break up with me?” That last question came out of him in such a low tone you could barely believe had come from him.

“No! Of course I don’t wanna break up-”

“Then tell me what do you want? Because I don’t understand why I can’t tell the world that I’m your boyfriend. I don’t get what’s so wrong about your boyfriend telling off a prick who can’t keep his hands to himself around another man’s woman-”

“Do you seriously think now is a good time to be possessive?”

“Oh, honey, I am possessive by nature. Especially around you,” he stated coming closer to where you were standing. And you could do nothing but welcome his warmth, after all, it’d been a long day.

As you stepped fully into his embrace and rested your head on his chest, you told him “I love you, Harvey. I don’t wanna break up with you. And I want you to tell the world that I’m your girlfriend, even Jessica,” hearing that, his eyes lit up. “But, as much of a prick as that man was, you need to understand that I can handle myself and that you need to give me space to make my own way at work, just like you made yours.”

“You’re right.”

“I know,” you joked, trying to shrug your shoulders at him.

“And I won’t try to interfere at work anymore. But don’t think that I’m just gonna stand around doing nothing if I see someone trying to mess with my girl again.”

“Well, that-”

“I’m not done yet,” he said, silencing you in an instant, “you should also know that, when you’re home with me, you’re mine to take care of.”

“Yeah? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” You asked him with a smug smile.

His only response was swiftly picking you up and taking you to his suite’s bathroom, where he gently sat you down on the edge of the tub, just to start running the hot water into the bath he’d already filled with delicious-smelling bathing salts. “Wait here, baby.”

A bit later he came back carrying some candles he started lighting with one of the matches from a box he had in his other hand.

“What are you doing, Harv?”

“Just come over here,” he said after having spread the candles all throughout his spacious bathroom. They were scented too, you noticed. The second you reached him, though, instead of holding you close, he started taking off your clothes, slow and gentle, piece by piece. Which he followed up with little kisses all over your now bare skin. After being satisfied with his work of making you forget everything, he picked you up again and, this time, carefully dipped you into the bathtub. “Now, you just lay back and relax, darling.”

“You’re not joining me?” You asked him hopefully.

“No, I’m taking care of your dinner,” right after he left, though, one of your favorite songs started playing softly on a speaker he’d set somewhere.

You probably dozed off in that tub, because before you knew it you were being held by your boyfriend in his bed, still completely naked. “Hey.”

“Good morning beautiful,” he greeted you with a grin, “you know, you were taking so long to wake up, that I was starting to think that the breakfast I made you was gonna get cold.”

“Wait a second, last night you were making me dinner and this morning you made me breakfast… two for two! What’s happening to you?” You asked, giggling like a child.

“Nothing, nothing! It’s just… I told you, at home, I take care of you, that’s all.” He told you while he guided you out of the bed, handing you one of his shirts altogether.

“You know, you keep saying ‘at home’ but this isn’t really our home…” As you put on his dress shirt, you followed him towards his living room.

“It could be…” And that’s when you saw a set of keys at the dinner table by the cutlery.

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pinkyqily · 3 months ago

Note

Lauren James x reader

Lauren spots reader at every game and every time before final whistle reader leaves, one time she tries to approach reader because that one time reader had stayed till the end of the game but when she approached the seats where she was sitting reader had disappeared, the girl's thinks she's making thing's up because they've never seen someone of the discription until the last game at Stamford Bridge...

(my thought process ran out so the ending is up to you 😭)

𝙄𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙍𝙊𝙒𝘿 - laurel james x reader

Summary: in which your girlfriend teammates think she made you up until recent games were they finally meet you.

Contains: fluff, suggestive

A/n: Sorry it took me so long to complete your request, and hopefully you enjoyed reading as much i did writing it, my request are opened so if you have any send em'. And as always feedbacks,reblog,likes,comments are always appreciated as they motivates me 🫶🏿

You and Lauren had been talking to each other for over a year now before she had asked you to be her girlfriend.

It was a heartfelt proposal, the moment you walked in your favorite coffee place that she had reserved just for the two of you made you speechless from the luke warm lights to the well homemade pastries and drinks along with the beautiful garden view.

Which was one of your favorite things about the cafe. Everything felt perfect at that moment. so when Lauren asked you to be her girlfriend even before she could get those words out, you immediately connected your lips to hers.

Which brings you to now every time Lauren would try and introduce you to her teammates something always happened that makes you leave early than expected. You would be in the stands wachting your girl and her teammates play, but every time before the final whistles blows you had to leave because something was always coming up.

The first time that it happened, you were at chelsea home game but had to leave due to someone breaking into your house as you had gotten a notification. from your homes alarm system indicating unknown activity.

which was a false call, It was your neighbors cat that had gotten through using the kitchen windows. Which lj understood, but that didn't stop her from all the teasing you'd get from her.

The second time, it happened you had to leave early around halftime because of a wardrobe malfunction and getting called back into work as you worked for a high journalism company.

Your girlfriend understood, but when she got home, she was the reason for a full wardrobe malfunction with your clothes,body, and bed.

And we'll today would be the third time that you had disappeared and Lauren's teammates had been giving her a hard time telling her that it was okay if she had an imaginary girlfriend even though you were hundred percent real to lj.

Why wouldn't you when she would come home combine her body heat to yours.

But that was not the case with lj and her teammates because after searching for you in the friends and family section, it was a no go as you had already left.

You on the other had had to leave your section because of the nois as you couldn't hear the other end if your cellphone call. But you were able to make it onto the field with lauren's brother reece, who had been waiting for you.

Seeing lj getting picked on her teammates and her about to head inside you quickly called out to her.

"Lauren baby wait up". You said loud enough for heads to start turning your direction.

Millie was the one with a shocked face following in the others who had a huge look of disbelief.

"Hey there, you thought you left me."She told you

"Office called, and it was getting way too noisy, and I had to move it outside."You told her.

"Wait, so you're actually real, and this one right here wasn't lying all this time when she told us you were coming." Sam voice spoke up.

"Well, I was at your last two games but had to leave due to technical emergency, so it definitely wasn't a lie, and I'm as real as it gets."You told her.

#woso fic #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso one shot #woso fluff #woso blurbs #woso appreciation #woso #woso community #lionesses x reader #lauren james fanfic #lauren james x reader #lauren james imagine #lauren james #pinkyqily fics

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hyewka · 2 years ago

Text

love me | c.bg

synopsis; maybe starting a sexual relationship with a friend that is so clearly in love with you isn't the best idea you've had in a while, but god knows how much longer you could stay sexually frustrated with your boyfriend...and plus, he offers himself to you! how could you refuse?

or in which your best friend so graciously offers to satisfy your very stale sex life.

warnings; sub!gyu, dom!reader, fwb, sensitive gyu, thigh humping, gyu cums in his pants, infidelity!!! not proofread, i had no direction for this whatsoever lol

You couldn't hide the way your mouth fell open at your best friend's suggestion, so out of left field you couldn't help but laugh before fully processing the fact that he was serious.

"What."

"Don't look at me like that! I...I don't know, you just keep complaining, so I was just like, why not. I mean, I don't mind." You still gape at him, the way he was so casually on his phone as if he didn't just ask you to use him for your sexual pleasure.

And as if he didn't just completely ignore the fact that you had someone you've already committed yourself to!

Like he's reading your mind, Beomgyu speaks up again, looking at you this time as if attempting to persuade you. "It's not cheating if we don't kiss."

You would've laughed again at the bogus logic if this wasn't the situation that it was. You're a doting girlfriend, you admire your man, but it's been years and there hasn't been a single improvement made in the bedroom. You've tried the talking, guiding, everything!

But it seemed no matter what, you were left high up dry. You were sexually incompatible with the man you wholeheartedly believe are in love with.

You haven't been wanting to come in terms with that, choosing denial. If you follow through with Beomgyu's offer, it would be like actually admitting to the doom that is threatening your otherwise perfect relationship.

And the fact that it's Beomgyu, your best friend...makes you a little hesitant. You're not an idiot, at least about Beomgyu. Hes never been fond of your boyfriend, or... any of your boyfriends for that matter. You had a hint of why.

He continues when he catches the way you were at least giving it a thought. "Just saying, I'm your friend...and, and I obviously want the best for you. And he's obviously not making you happy with his sloppy sex skills."

You narrow your eyes at him, offended with the unnecessary jab--your lovely did not lack in the sex field, he just...didn't know how to use his tools...correctly.

"I don't want you stuck living like a nun for the rest your life," You wince-- for the rest of your life? He awkwardly purses his lips. "You know...like, if you end up marrying him or something."

You turn away from him, brows furrowed as you pondered. You definitely aren't prepared to be in a sexless marriage.

Choosing to take a glance to him one more time-- he was attempting to seem nonchalant, but you pride yourself on knowing him more than he knew himself.

Beomgyu wasn't the hardest person to read anyway, at least not with his eyes puppy-like, long fringe gently brushing over them, showing that he was eagerly awaiting a response from you.

There was no way you would do this...right?

---𓆩♡𓆪

Getting comfortable on the couch, rewatching your favorite most beloved sitcom while having your best friend's face buried in between your legs...is a unique experience. One you've been revisiting for a little too long now, to the point the pain of his nails digging into the flush of your thighs doesn't faze you anymore. You instead liked it, the way he got so worked up over making you feel good.

It's not like you haven't tried ending it. Every time you told Beomgyu it was over, that you were done with whatever you had with him, he'd somehow find a way to convince you with just one video.

Usually faceless as he focused his phone camera on his crotch, clearly hard as his bulge is outlined through his sweats-- palming it as he whined, saying oh how he just misses you. You miss him too right?

You'd feel your jaw tick whenever he mentions your boyfriend in his silly videos, but the irritation is quickly left at bay when he finally takes his dick out, sniffles heard in the audio-- frantic as he jerks off, his red swollen tip already leaking. Gosh, could he be any more indecent?

You weren't really in the place to judge, because every time, your thighs would rub together in attempt to get rid of the heat surfacing in between, eyes focused on every detail on your phone.

He never made it easy, especially when he'd use his eyes against you by the end, a flash of his face being the highlight of the short thirty seconds, brows pointed upward as he whispers his final 'miss you' through a pout.

Fuck, what a weakness. His eyes.

Especially now, when he makes sure to look at you as he sloppily ate you out, with those same doe-eyed look, tears making his long lashes prettier.

You place your hand on the messiness of his hair, playing with strands before you look away from his eyes, focusing on the scene you've watched a hundred times before, a fond smile making way onto your lips. It's the one your boyfriend declared it being you guys's 'official' show-- which you hadn't minded, it was funny.

You still end up chuckling at the jokes you've already seen, the delivery never failing to make you tearing up from pure laughter. But it seems like that pisses Beomgyu off, as he whines against your pussy, tongue working to get your attention again. When it's clear that that was a failed attempt, your eyes still focused on the TV, he raises his head. "Are you bored?"

You tear your eyes away to the boy, tilting your head at the sudden question. His lips were glistening, red, forming a pout, clearly insecure. You huff out a laugh through your nose, "That's such a stupid question."

"No it's not. You're focused on the stupid show and not me!" You roll your eyes, unfortunately for you, everyone has flaws, Beomgyu not being an exception-- his was and has always been his tendency to crave full attention on him.

"Am I ...am I not making you feel good?" his voice this time is softer, craving to hear a denial to his insecurities.

You sigh, another weak spot. When Beomgyu's voice cracks in attempt to swallow his tears, your heart cracks.

You're quick to soak up his insecure figure. "Beomgyu, no. Of course you're making me feel good." You feel him calm down, body releasing its previous tension. He rests his head on your tummy, allowing you to play with his hair again, "Yeah?"

"Mhm," you hum. In attempt to lighten the mood a little, you tease, "Am I allowed to watch my show now?"

He nods against your shirts fabric. You smile, your eyes going from him to the TV screen. He just lays his head on your tummy, watching the show with you, arms around your waist. It's strangely intimate, but you dismiss the feeling.

He eventually goes back down on you, and you make sure to turn off the screen, providing him with your full attention. Beomgyu was always good with his mouth so it's no surprise he got you to finish. What's surprising is that he ends it there-- no reason for you to scold him for trying to take more than he was allowed.

"Good boy..." you murmur into his hair, you mean it. Though you were prepared for it, you weren't really in the mood to deep clean your couch again.

Your lids are heavy, almost drifting to sleep but sure enough, you feel Beomgyu's lower half moving against your leg. You think he's just shifting his position so you ignore it, but you quickly learn its something less innocent than that. "You're going to stain my couch again?"

Maybe Beomgyu didn't have his self control in check after all.

He suddenly stops and you try your best to not laugh-- it's like he was caught stealing something. "Go on, as a sorry for not paying attention to you. You deserve it."

He whines against your neck as if to thank you before his hips start rocking against your outstretched leg, quickly turning frantic as his breathing gets heavier. In an attempt to not make this further than it had to be, you never let Beomgyu enter you, only giving him the option of getting off from your thighs.

He audibly complained to you before, but he quickly learned to comply if it meant you wouldn't stop this relationship, adjusting to pathetically humping your leg. You've always been disapproving of his attempt to give you hickeys, it was rightfully risky, but Beomgyu was a horny dog, not able to control the urge to start sucking on the flesh of your skin.

You didn't have the power to stop him, especially when he knew all the right places to nip and slightly pull, choosing that you'll have to cover it up well later. His mind is eventually too cloudy to focus on giving you hickeys, whining with his head buried between your chest. Which makes it easier for your attention to be caught by the sudden light of your phone.

You reach out for it on top of the small coffee table in front of you, disrupting Beomgyu's rhythm for a second, but he doesn't fail to pick it up again-- it's cute, how he gets so worked up.

Your current mood is soured when you see a text notification from your boyfriend, your eyes then immediately travelling up to the time. Shit.

You have to finish this fast before he starts suspecting. You bite down on your lips, still staring at the text that reads, 'When are you coming?' Fuck, how could you forget about the date?

"Y/N...pay attention to me." he whines, making you spare a glance down on him. Beomgyu's head raises, with sniffles, flashing you his puppy eyes. You sigh, discarding your phone before you decide to quicken this-- instead of just laying there for your body to be used, you trail your hand up his shirt.

He shakes his head whimpering, hair messy over his eyes, but you ignore it. Your calloused fingers on his bud sends Beomgyu's head to overdrive, and you know it. Your thumb brushes over the puffy pink of his nipple, and it was over for him.

You catch the hot tears running down his cheeks for a split second before his head falls, hair over his face, humiliated as you continue to rub. "Baby...you're so pretty." you coo, getting his hips to fasten against your thigh, his slender body shaking.

His breathing strains against the fabric of your shirt, whines from the back of his throat, and you feel warmth spread between your legs, signalling that he soiled his pants. But he doesn't slow his movement, still humping your leg. Bad boy.

You're about to scold him but his incoherent whispers become louder, and now they're more than clear to your ears. "I love you, I love you, I love you so much."

You squeeze your eyes shut-- fuck. "Beomgyu..." you try your voice soft, but he's not willing to listen, shaking his head again, sniffling. He tightens his hold around your waist, "I won't let you go. Just forget about him, please forget about him. I love you so much."

In response to your silence, he raises his head from your body meekly, his dark eyes made bright and sparkling with sweet, needy tears, face flushed. "Love me too...please?"

God, what have you done.

----

#txt smut #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #beomgyu x reader #txt hard hours #sub!txt #choi beomgyu smut #sub!idol

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pinkmirth · 2 years ago

Note

nfl reiner braun tears his alc and requests the best surgeon to work on it. he gets, youuuu, sweet smelling pink doctor coat wearing you and he can’t even take you serious when you’re going over his chart or requesting to feel the muscle with those pink gloves on. you even look younger than him and he’s telling you: “darlin’, listen… im a big deal around here and i need someone to help fix me not give me a boner.” or something like that and you almost don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re the best that there’s ever been at this hospital.

RECOVERY, reiner braun !

୨୧ — pairing: footballer!reiner braun x fem!reader

୨୧ — synopsis: this doctor’s got a hardheaded patient! it’ll take some effort to convince him of your effectiveness . . .

୨୧ — contains: ( 1.4k words of . . . ) modern au, slight nsfw (more like suggestive!), footballer!reiner, surgeon!reader, fem!reader (black coded), reiner has an ACL tear, reiner’s touch-deprived/sexually frustrated, rei’s kindaaa conceited (just a little bit!), palming, minors shoo!

୨୧ — mira’s note: ramona, my love! i adore all your reiner concepts, they’re always sooo perfect 🎀 thank youuu for sharing your rei-rei thoughts with me :) now here’s a lil drabble for my gorgeous man! (not really proofread thoroughly, i apologize for any typos or mistakes!)

isopropyl.

it’s all that reiner can smell. he’s a healthy man, he hardly belongs here— in this chilled surgeon office with the most pale, unflattering lighting. the parchment-like exam table paper rustles beneath him with every stretch and maneuver he makes, and his weight is enough to pry a creak out of the treatment table every now and again.

a recurring clack of footsteps and the whine of the door lets reiner know that you, the ‘sexy doctor lady from earlier’ has returned from reading his screenings. he wasn’t able to catch your name amidst the splitting pain from his acl tear, so that’ll make do in the meantime.

you set down your clipboard and turn to face him. your dear patient appears a bit mussed from the big game that took place earlier— his golden hair’s all fluffy and wild, that red football uniform of his is streaked with the green of the field, and his left cheekbone got a little scratch somehow. you’ll make sure to dab that with rubbing alcohol later.

“your vitals are well above average.” you commend. his reply’s a mere grunt. he can’t bring himself to take you seriously. just fucking look at you; pink latex gloves pulled over manicured hands, welcoming eyes all doe and shiny, with a sweet glossed smile that he won’t forget for days to come. he hates having to meet such a beauty under these grim circumstances– after all, you’re the kind of woman he’d take out on a date.

“lucky for you, mister braun, your injury isn’t a complete tear . . . so your recovery time shouldn’t be too long. it’ll last about six months, give or take.”

he isn’t listening.

reiner isn’t even sure of when he began to space out; your lips are just so plush, so alluring. his surname sounds sweeter than it should when falling from your mouth. before long, you clear your throat. it’s enough to snap him out of it. “i’d appreciate your undivided attention, sir. we’re currently going over your healing plan— ”

“lemme ask you, sugar,” he interjects with a low rasp. reiner braun’s well known around these parts, and you can only assume that being such a big deal has gotten to his head. what he says next throws you off, “when’s the real doctor comin’ in, hm?” it’s hard to remain professional, but you do. no furrowed brows, no scrunched up face— nothing but a tight, forced smile.

you suck in a breath through your nose, maintaining composure. “what makes you think it isn’t me, mister braun?” he can hear the tinge of vexation in your voice. clearly, this footballer has struck a chord or two.

“you’ve got pink gloves on, barbie.” he snarks out a laugh, just a bit mean. he’s much too handsome for such a condescending tone.

you bring a gloved hand flat to his chest, pushing reiner back into the examination table. his breath catches in his throat when you knead your fingers into his thigh, right where the tear resides beneath firm muscle. you’re assertive, and goddamn, does he love it.

“i’m your doctor.” you assure, voice firm. he groans out at the calculated pressure; it feels good. makes the throb of pain fade, just a bit.

“you’ll have to put some faith in me, hm?” your tone is warm, words soft and patient in a way he doesn’t deserve. reiner can’t lie, it was crass of him to have undermined you that way.

“my apologies, doc.” he addresses you in the rightest way he can. it’s his tiny little way of making amends.

“so, how long— fuck, how long did ‘ya study for?” reiner tries for small talk, voice low and shaken. you’d like to believe that whatever left his lips just now wasn’t a moan. no, it was more like . . . a groan of pain, perhaps?

“about six years. graduated early,” no wonder you look just about his age, if not younger. all his previous doctors were just as old as his parents.

“smart and pretty, huh?” he graces you with a feeble grin, a white gleam of teeth surrounded by neatly trimmed stubble. it’s safe to say that he’s your hottest patient up to date.

you continue on with prodding into the thick meat of his left thigh, and those throaty whines of his make you feel a way you simply shouldn’t.

it’s been a while since reiner’s been touched this way. he knows it’s just a regular inspection for his stupid injury, but he can’t recall the last time a woman’s splayed their hands on his body. he’s always busy with football this, training that. there’s never any time remaining for hook-ups, talkless of a relationship. that being said, it isn’t long before he begins to grow excited.

“m— mister braun,” you call out, voice airy, “you seem a little, um . . . worked up.”

“huh?” his eyes flit up to meet yours. you lock onto his honey-brown pools of desperation.

nothing else is uttered. you wordlessly direct your gaze towards his crotch, and give him a knowing look. reiner finally catches on— he fucking knew he felt his bottoms getting tight. hesitantly, the blonde lifts his head to peer down at his pants. surely enough, a boner’s prodding at the centering cloth of his football shorts.

“goddamn,” he drops his head back onto the examination table, bashfully throwing his forearm over his eyes. humiliation eats at the proud man, reducing him to a jumble of hormones.

you can hardly bring yourself to contain your chuckle, which makes his reddened cheeks burn further. it seems that his bodily reaction to your skilled hands has given him a sense of humility at best, and embarrassment at worst.

“i’ve never been appointed to a lady before . . .” is his hushed excuse. he’s still got his eyes shielded with his arm— he can’t even fucking bear to look at you. it’ll only spur him on further.

‘i turn you on?’ is what you’re just longing to question him. you know that you do— he’s been looking at your lips with bated breath since he got here. not to mention the peeks he’d taken at your ass whenever you turned around to read his chart or grab a cotton ball.

it’s quite bold of you— more like dangerous— to bring your ministrations upwards, closer to the ache under his pants. you’d tell yourself to stay on task, but professionalism has long been thrown out the window.

your gloved hands trail mischievously, placed directly atop reiner’s hard-on. warmth radiates from your palm, and you squeeze. his eyes blink shut, hips gently bucking upwards. his tear burns from beneath his skin, but he doesn’t fucking care. he bets he could cum from your hands alone.

reiner eventually manages to pull his arm away from blocking his viewpoint, chest heaving with every passing second. if you were to use your stethoscope on him, his heartbeat would be nothing short of erratic.

“trust me, mister braun,” is your reassuring whisper, “you’re in good hands.”

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y0urzayn3 · 1 year ago

Text

Genshin Men finally Confess

For everyone who’s still single, (like me) enjoy valentines with these Genshin men

Characters - Zhongli, Ayato, Wriothesley, Diluc, Alhaitham x GN! Reader (separately)

Tw- Kaveh’s is suggestive, but the rest are fluff

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧

He was the lord of geo, and you assured him throughout the course of the archon war. You helped him carefully strategise and plan his attacks, just as a good adviser should. Like Zhongli, you too dawn a geo vision, one that is tied around your neck with an amber ribbon made of nothing but the finest silk in all of Liyue.

Of course he was aware of the day known as Valentine’s Day, that celebrated nothing but love and bonds.

This, he thought, was the perfect day to confess to you the secrets he had held for so long.

On that day, he calls you to a cliff overlooking the entirety of Liyue, right at the time of dusk.

“Y/n,” he says holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers and a box of chocolates, “will you make me the happiest man alive and become my significant other?”

He was prepared for rejection, but what he didn’t expect was for you to jump into his arms with an excited squeal and a loud yes.

As the sun set in the background, you two shared your first kiss.

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧

As the Yashiro Commissioner walked down the familiar roads of Inazuma city, he noticed the heart decorations and couples roaming around, evidently on dates. He tried to picture himself and you, his assistant, as some of them but quickly snapped out of it when he noticed what he was doing. Then he thought, why shouldn’t he spend Valentine’s Day with you? So, as soon as he finished his patrolling, he rushed to you. “Y/n, clear my and your entire schedules for tomorrow, we’re going on a date.” He then practically ran out of the room in embarrassment and left you blushing. Everything after that happened so fast that he didn’t even realise it and now here he is on his first ever date with you. You are at a small boba shop and Ayato decided to tease you by stealing some from your lips. Ayato knows that work is going to pile up after this, but seeing your flustered face makes so worth it.

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧

Kaveh, a masterful achietect, whose only formidable opponent in the field was you. Although everyone knew you two despised each other, the acting grand sage decided having you two work on a project together might just help you get closer. (He had enough of Kaveh cribbing about something you said or did) To make matters worse, he had you two share the same dorm! Thus, the tedious project began. As you started working with Kaveh, you realised he wasn’t so bad after all. The insults you threw at him each other soon turned to words of affirmation and some flirtatious lines in private. At last, after many months, the project was completed on Valentine’s Day. The two of you decided to go out for a drink to celebrate. The night ended with lipstick marks and hickeys, looks like you two got a lot closer than the grand sage intended huh 👀.

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧

As the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide, Wriothesley occasionally makes his visits to the surface, to ensure that everything is in order. On one of his visits, he came across your small cafe. As he entered, he was greeted by a homely decor and you, who were standing at the counter. Blissfully unaware of his post, you casually asked him what he would like. It was love at first sight for him. After the incident, he often visited your cafe and the two of you became good friends. He actually loved the dishes you served him so much, he asked you to teach him. So here he was, on the day before Valentine’s, helping you prepare what you would need the next day. Unbeknownst to you, he only insisted as he wanted to whip up a little something for you too— a box of macaroons iced with hearts.

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧

Alhaitham often looked down on people, he found them to be much less intellectual than he preferred. That was until he met you, someone who was on par with him in academics. But what he truly loved about you, was your bubbly nature. He found himself looking forward to your untimely visits. Then it hit him. Like a downpour of bricks on his head. He liked you, romantically. Luckily for him, he’s read countless romance novels, and already had something in mind. On Valentine’s evening, he took you to Mawtiyima Forest for some stargazing. As the two of you admired the intricate constellations, he whispered a subtle “Isn’t the moon beautiful today?” in your ear. He knew you understood.

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣ ‧₊˚✧

a/n- for those confused, the phrase “isn’t the moon beautiful today?” is a poetic way of saying I love you.

belongs to @y0urzayn3, please don’t steal my work.

#zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin wriothesley #Genshin ayato #genshin zhongli #Genshin Kaveh #Genshin Alhaitham #Wriothesley fluff #ayato fluff #zhongli fluff #kaveh fluff #alhaitham fluff

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inuyashaluver · 1 year ago

Note

Would you do a fic with leah x Reader. Leah being really shy, both before dating and during.

shy - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which your girlfriend is incredibly shy around you - something that surprises your peers completely

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive, long ish?

a/n: hiiii, i have such mixed feelings about this one but i tried okay, IM JUST A GIIRRRLLL anyway lmao, ignore me - thank you for the request!! hope you enjoyy xx

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if there was one thing to know about your girlfriend, leah, it was that she was confident. leah held herself well, she always maintained eye contact, she was a great speaker and she was incredibly passionate and a great leader.

people spoke highly of leah, she was the confident england captain, european champion and one of the best players in the league. she was anything but shy, she wasn’t even considered shy by anyone that knew her. until a special girl came along and made leah the definition of shy.

—

you were a medic, one of the best in your field. you’d been offered a job for the lionesses back in 2018. that’s where you met leah. during camp, you were brought in late after being shown the ropes and the procedures for the team.

you were then taken to meet the girls, when you walked in the room with your bright smile and excited eyes, leah’s heart stopped. she was sitting with beth at the time, just chatting in the gym and when she stopped talking, beth looked at her in confusion, only to follow her gaze on the new medic for the team.

beth smirked and immediately started teasing the girl, leah’s pink cheeks and sheepish smile gracing her features made it obvious to almost anyone who was paying attention. she thought you were gorgeous, she kept glancing at you as you made your way around the room, your smile and laugh was infectious, she couldn’t help but smile when you did.

when you made your way closer to them, leah began to panic, beth just laughed at the girl’s nervous expression. leah began to sip water and tried to look anywhere but at you “hi, i’m (y/n),” you say softly, holding your hand out to beth and shaking her hand.

“hiya, i’m beth, that’s leah” beth’s smirk never left her face, she shoves leah to look up at you and when she did, leah began to choke on her water, spurring a coughing fit. beth immediately laughs at her, you bend down next to her and place a gentle hand on leah’s back and she slightly tenses. “you okay?” you ask leah concerned, the girl in front of you just nods and tries to wave you off but you don’t move from her.

you begin to rub comforting circles on her back and she stops coughing, she looks at you in awe, her face was warm and she was incredibly embarrassed. “sorry about that, i’m leah” she laughs nervously, internally cursing herself for fucking up just looking at you.

“no, it’s okay, hopefully the next time i see you, you’re not choking” you joke, giving her a light squeeze on her arm and standing up. “see you around, be careful with that water, leah?” you smile, leah just looks at you with wide eyes, nodding her head enthusiastically and spurring a giggle from you. you thought she was gorgeous, you hoped you’d see her frequently.

as you walk away from her, you glance back and smile at her, throwing her a little wave and going back to where your colleagues were. leah waves back and turns back to beth, she was more red than ever. “my little leah has a crush!” beth teases, making kissy faces at her friend. leah scowls, giving beth a shove and flipping her off. “fuck off, beth” she grumbles, returning back to her normal self.

—

it was then time for training, you and your colleagues stood on the sidelines and observed the team, ready to treat any injuries. you couldn’t help but train your gaze on leah, finding her incredibly enticing. leah was serious about training, she kept her attention where it needed to be. the drills went well, she would only look at you when she didn’t have to do anything, only to discover that you were looking at her already.

both of you would sport pink cheeks and stolen glances at each other. it was painfully obvious. then, the girls were instructed for a practice mini game. you obviously knew leah was an amazing player, but watching her this close just proved how good she was. you were awestruck watching her quick movements and expert footwork, watching her with somewhat of a proud smile.

until the girl dived for a tackle and ended up lightly spraining her ankle. when she didn’t get up from the floor, you ran over. “leah, stay still, please” you ask softly, placing your hands on her ankle and extending her leg gently. leah’s mouth was slightly agape as she watched you, she felt no pain at all, all she felt was your warm hand making contact with her skin and she never wanted them to part.

you quickly place an ice pack on her ankle and she slightly winces, you send her an apologetic smile, holding it in place to reduce the swelling. “can you rate your pain on a scale of 1-10?” you question, looking into her eyes but she quickly looks away from you. she doesn’t answer immediately, she’s trying to catch her breath after making eye contact with you.

“leah?” she suddenly snaps out of her trance, looking at you quickly, “sorry!” she exclaims, feeling so incredibly warm. “um..like a 3?” you nod in response, slightly adjusting the ice pack. you smile at her again and leah can’t help but smile back at you.

“alright, let me wrap you up and you can chill with me” you take out bandages and tape from your little bag and gently wrap up her ankle, stopping to ask her if she was okay a couple times. leah was encapsulated by you, watching the way you expertly wrap her ankle better than she’s ever experienced and she’s not even being biassed by your pretty face.

you help her stand up, wrapping her arm around your shoulder while you securely hold her waist. it felt so familiar for the both of you, leaning into each other subtly as you help her walk off the pitch.

when you get to the sidelines, you help her sit down and elevate her ankle, giving her a comforting squeeze on her shoulder as you sat beside her. you couldn’t help but notice that her breathing was a little erratic.

“you okay?” you whisper to her, she was focused on the game until she heard your whispers. she looks down at you with a surprised face. “yeah, why?” she stutters, struggling to maintain your eye contact but she feels more comfortable around you.

“you’re just breathing a little irregularly, just checking in” you lightly pat her thigh and she looks down at your hand, you quickly move it away following her gaze and she has a trace of a smile on her lips.

“just a little puffed out from the game” she sighs, sending you a little grin to assure you. after the game was finished, you help leah walk again towards the change rooms. you sit her down in her cubby and smile at her with pink cheeks. “come and find me if you need anything” she smiles and thanks you, when you turn the corner and leave the room, leah groans in frustration.

“fucking idiot” she puts her head in her hands, the girls in the change room were teasing her relentlessly. “i never thought i’d see a shy leah williamson in my life” millie laughs, her and beth being the main sources of the teasing.

“fuck off, i’m not shy” leah says sternly, her face not amused whatsoever. “your stuttering and pink cheeks in front of the pretty medic says otherwise, leah” keira teases, getting a laugh from lucy as leah flips her off. “nah, you’re mad, mate” leah scoffs, beginning to change out of her kit. “so you wouldn’t mind if one of us made a move?” jill jokes, her smile wiping off her face when leah sends her an icy glare.

“point proven, then?” beth smirks, leah shakes her head and hobbles out of the room. when she made it to the hallway, there you were. “back to see me so soon, williamson” you grin, leah sends you a bashful one in return. “hm, maybe” she spoke somewhat confidently, the teasing of her friends giving her some assertiveness. you smile at her surprised, a different tone evident in her voice, it was a little..flirty - you weren’t entirely sure if leah returned the attraction you felt.

—

months go by, leah gaining more ‘injuries’ than ever and you couldn’t help but wonder if she was just doing it on purpose just to see you. her conversations with you were still you doing most of the work but you could tell leah was gaining more and more confidence around you. every time she walked up to you, you couldn’t help but laugh at the teasing she received.

something you also noticed was how leah looked as though she hyped herself up to talk to you. often taking deep breaths before muttering up any sort of courage to even say hi to you. she would often just stand next to you, nervously shifting her weight between her legs until you would spark conversation. she couldn’t bring herself to make the first move - she always made the first move.

when she talked to you, she was incredibly fidgety, playing with the hem of her clothes while you chatted.

when leah talked to anyone, she would do most of the talking. when it came to you, she was a listener. she loved hearing you talk, your soft words making her feel calm and nervous all at the same time. you loved talking to leah, both of you discovering that you had a lot in common.

one day, beth had come up to you and pulled you to the side, you couldn’t miss leah’s angry expression as you were pulled away from her. you send her a smile and her face changes, she smiles back at you and tries to ignore the fluttering in her stomach but she just can’t. her nerves consuming her completely.

“listen (y/n), please put everyone out of their misery and ask leah out” beth pleads, glancing over at leah and back at you. your eyes slightly widen, you follow her gaze to see leah trying to act like she wasn’t paying attention to you and beth but she clearly was.

“are you sure leah likes me?” you ponder, in slight disbelief that she could return your feelings.

“are you joking?” beth laughs, “leah williamson is probably the most confident person i’ve met, yet when you come around, she’s a puddle” you nod your head in understanding, a smile making its way to your face. beth smiles back at you encouragingly, “give her a chance” you nod again, thanking beth for her advice before making your way back over to leah.

she smiles at you before glancing to the floor, swallowing the lump in her throat. “come for a walk with me?” leah snaps her head up at you, pausing for a moment before nodding and standing up, wiping her hands on her jacket and walking along with you. you stand in front of her and look up in attempts to catch her eye, and she manages to maintain her eye contact. her pupils were dilated as she flutters her eyes between yours.

“i wanted to ask you something” blood gently makes surface on your cheeks. “okay” leah lets out a shaky breath, she looks down at her feet for a moment, “sorry” escaping her lips. you make a bold move, slowly moving your hand to grasp hers, she looks up at you surprised, her face completely red as you gently squeeze her hand.

“don’t be sorry” you say softly, smiling at her before making your move. “i wanted to ask if you wanted to go out with me sometime?” leah’s breath audibly hitched, feeling as though she malfunctioned. she pauses and you look at her concerned, maybe you misread the situation.

“shit..you don’t feel the same do you?” you try to slip your hand out of leah’s but she holds on tightly, “yes! i do!” she exclaims, she was certain she was the shade of a tomato. your cheeks turn pink at her volume, “i’d love to” she whispers, running her thumb over the back of your hand. “it’s a date” you smile, leah smiles back, both of you swarmed with butterflies as you look into each other’s eyes.

—

you’ve now been dating for 4 years and you finally met the confident leah that everyone who told you about. leah had you swooning at every opportunity possible. once you made the first move all those years ago, leah handled the rest, surprising you completely.

the only times you notice leah returning to her shy self is when she was in front of her teammates, something you loved to tease her about. everyone knew you were dating, painfully obvious when you both walked in the room. beth smiled so brightly when leah didn’t let go of your hand when you neared the door.

—

in present times, you and leah moved in together. you getting a job offer at arsenal and still working for england. both of you in absolute bliss. leah was getting changed in your shared bedroom, you watch as she rids herself of her kit and changes into something more comfortable. she can feel your eyes on her and her cheeks still turn pink. “stop looking at me like that” she mumbles, faced with your lovesick grin. “like what, baby?” you reply cheekily, cocking your head to the side when she looks at you bashfully.

“like that! i don’t know, lovey dovey” leah jokes and you move to stand in front of her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your chin on her chest, looking up at her adoringly.

“i am lovey dovey for you, beautiful” you pucker your lips up at her and she can feel her entire body on fire. she grins, moving to place a sweet kiss on your lips, moving together tenderly as she pulls you closer to your body. “i love you, my girl” she speaks against your lips, kissing you once more before parting.

“my shy girl, i love you” you say affectionately and leah places her face in your neck, pecking it repeatedly and making you squirm, giggling at feeling her lips graze your skin. “stop it” leah mumbles, sighing and hugging you tightly, lightly swaying your body side to side. “you’re the cutest” you coo, leah pinches your hip and you laugh. “it’s all your fault” she jokes, moving her face out of your neck to face you again, keeping you pressed up against her.

“aw, sorry, baby” you kiss her lips quickly and move your hand up to cradle her cheek, she leans into it and looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

—

once, you and leah were hosting team bonding at your house. you and leah (you) cooked dinner for some of the girls, leah’s job was apparently just wrapping her arms around your waist as you cooked, hugging you gently. “baby, i can’t do much when you’re holding me like this” you giggle, contracting your words as you lean into her body.

“but you’re warm” she hums, her cheek resting on yours. you were in your own world until beth came in, “oh my god, lovebirds! viv, look!” beth teases, viv standing next to her with an apologetic smile. leah groans and thumps her head on your shoulder, begging beth to leave. you feel her warm body on yours. “oh, beth, leave them” viv mouths a sorry to you, dragging beth back to your living room.

after you all ate, leah set up a movie for everyone to watch. you were cleaning up the kitchen despite the protests of leah, but it only took a couple minutes. when you came to the living room, there was literally no where to sit, leah smiles so brightly as you enter the room, ignoring the snickers coming from beth in the corner.

you grin and move to sit on her lap. she welcomes the contact, placing one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh, giving it a squeeze. the boldness of the gesture had leah grinning. you kiss her cheek when you’re seated and giggle when you feel it grow warm under your affection.

“aw, she’s all shy now!” jen teases, gaining laughs from pretty much everyone in the room. you smile and cradle leah’s head to your chest, she leans into you completely, feeling as though she can tune out all the teasing just with you holding her. you move to whisper in your ear, “don’t be shy, baby,” your lips graze the shell of her ear and she tenses, squeezing your thigh almost warningly. you let out a little gasp, holding her arm that was squeezing your thigh and running your nails over it.

“i’ll show you shy, baby girl” she whispers in your ear, kissing it gently before pulling away to see your flustered face. team bonding was cut short that night, everyone left after feeling the tension in the room between you and leah. leah williamson is anything but shy, and she showed you that.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

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leahwilliamsonn: call the pretty medic, my acl is playing up again (joke)

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yourname: you don’t need to make up excuses to see me

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i’m making it fun, baby!

↳ yourname: your acl was not. funny.

↳ leahwilliamsonn: joke, baby, just a joke

↳ yourname: hm

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i love you

↳ yourname: i love you too, i guess

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i guess?!

bethmead_: leah and (y/n) sitting in a tree

↳ jbeatie91: K

↳ bethmead_: I

↳ jbeatie91: S

↳ bethmead_: S

↳ keirawalsh: I

↳ mbrighty04: N

↳ leahwilliamsonn: G

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson

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thealtoduck · 9 months ago

Text

Being a waterbender living in the Earth Kingdom and meeting Team Avatar…

Sokka x Male Waterbender!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: While stocking up on supplies in a small village, team avatar finds a waterbender in an unlikely place…

——

Sokka’s pov:

Appa landed deep in the forest and Aang, Katara and Sokka started setting up camp for the night. Katara prepared their dinner as Aang and Sokka set up the tent and fed Appa and Momo.

”We’ll need to go to that village and stock up on more food we’re almost out, there’s barely enough for the three of us” Katara told the other two. ”There was a farm on the outskirts of town, I could go see if they have anything we could take” Sokka suggested.

”Sokka, you can’t just steal food, it’s for the towns people” Aang told him. ”Oh please, you saw how big the fields were, what’s a couple of vegetables? There will be plenty left, plus we need this food to get to the Northern Water Tribe so you can learn waterbending to save the world, I’m sure they’d want us to have their food” Sokka said standing up.

”I’ll be back soon” he said grabbing a small basket, walking in the direction of the farm. Once he reached it he stumbled over the fence on to the fields. Using a dagger to cut free a couple of vegetables and put them in the basket.

All of a sudden out of nowhere a blast of water knocked Sokka to the the ground making him drop the food basket. ”Katara?!” Sokka yelled but when he looked up he didn’t see Katara.

He was met with a pretty boy his own age with y/h/c hair and y/c/s skin, in a set of light jade green robes, that had water lilies embroided on them. He looked mad.

”What are you doing?” he asked in a dangerous tone. ”I-I-” Sokka tried but his voice got caught in his throat, he didn’t know what was more shocking that he found a waterbender in the northern parts of the Earth Kingdom or that he found him really attractive.

The boys face turned from stern annoyance, to a studying look as he looked Sokka up and down. ”Are-Are you from the Water Tribe?” the boy asked curiously. ”Yes” Sokka answered. ”Wow… I’ve never met anyone apart from mom from the Water Tribe…” the boy uttered.

”Are you from the North or South?” he asked. ”Southern Water Tribe” he answered more relaxed now that the look on you face wasn’t dripping with venom. Sokka then found some more courage to say ”Look, I’m sorry for stealing your crops, me, my sister and my friend are traveling and we’re almost completely out of food, if you want I can pay you for all this”.

The boy considered for a moment and then said ”Come with me, grab the basket”. Sokka did as told and followed the boy as he led him towards the farmer’s house, the two stopped outside and said ”Wait here”. As he went inside.

A few minutes later the boy came back out and put something in Sokka’s basket. A loaf of bread, some herbs, and a bottle of fruit juice. ”There you go, should make a nice meal” the boy said.

Sokka got confused but the boy spoke up again saying ”You know, me and my family like to house travelers when they pass through and it’s gonna get cold tonight, so if you need a place to sleep tonight just knock, okay?”.

Sokka was stunned, a couple of minutes ago he had just tried to steal from this family and now he was being offered a place to spend the night. ”Thank you” he found himself saying warmly. ”No worries” the boy said turning back towards the house.

”I’m Sokka” Sokka blurted not wanting the interaction to end just yet. The boy turned to him with a smile. ”I’m Y/n, hope to see you later, Sokka” he said and rentered the house.

”Wow” Sokka uttered quietly turning around making his way back to Katara and Aang. As they cooked the food they’d been given he explained eagerly to them about the boy. ”Are you sure he’s a waterbender and that he didn’t just throw a bucket of water at you?” Katare asked skeptical that there’d be a waterbender in this town.

”Yeah, he said his Mother was from the Water Tribe” Sokka insisted. Aang wrapped himself in a blanket. ”Maybe we should take him up on the offer, it’s starting to get chilly out here” Aang recommeded. Sokka agreed eagerly and Katara seemed curious about the idea of meeting another water bender.

Your pov:

There was a knock on the door and you went to open, being met with Sokka followed by another boy, a girl and a lemur. ”Glad you could make it, come in my mom just made some tea” you said and were introduced to Aang and Katara. And of course the lemur Momo.

You helped them get Appa in to the barn and they joined you inside. You sat down around the table as your mother served tea to you and your guests. ”Y/n? Sokka told us your a water bender, is that true?” Katara asked.

”Yeah, I am” you said showing her by lifting the tea out of your cup, before putting it back in. ”I’m not that good though, I don’t get much practice since the fire nation is always snooping around” you explained.

”Good enough to knock Sokka of his feet” Aang commented. ”It was a suprise attack!” Sokka defended himself making you, Aang and Katara laugh.

You conversed with the three for well over an hour, they had so many stories, Aang being the Avatar, how he met Sokka and Katara, them running from the Fire Nation multiple times. They’d had quite the long journey.

Your Father and Aang ended up in the barn as Aang wanted to see the farm animals, your Mother and Katara sat and discussed the Water Tribe. Leaving only you and Sokka…

”Would you like to see where you’ll be staying?” you asked him. ”Yeah, sure” he said. You led him to the guest room and told him ”This is the guest room, hope you’ll find it comfortable, if you need anything my room is right across”.

”If you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna get ready for bed” you said yawning and turned to your room but Sokka grabbed your hand and you turned back around. ”Thank you, for doing so much for us, it means a lot” Sokka said with a grateful smile.

”Anything for our fellow Water Tribe folk and the Avatar, Of course” you told him. You then said ”Goodnight” and opened the door to your room. ”Goodnight” Sokka said as you then disappeared in to your room.

He wanted to find a way to repay your kindness.

Next morning when you woke up you helped your mother in the kitchen with the breakfast. When you brought out the servings of food to the others you saw your father was eagerly conversing with Sokka.

Your father then spoke up and asked ”Y/n? Could you please show Aang and Katara around the village?”. ”Don’t you need me around the farm?” you questioned. Your father shook his head and said ”No, Sokka offered to do your work for today so you’d be able to take the day off and relax”.

”Oh! Well then I’d be honored to show you the village” you said with a smile and a small bow.

Once breakfast was finished you waited for Aang and Katara so you could leave for the village. You saw Sokka prepare for the days work at the farm.

”Thank you for taking over my work” you told him gratefully. ”It’s the least i could do after everything you and your family has done for us” Sokka said. You smiled as you looked in to Sokka’s eyes, it was like it only now dawned on you how handsome he was.

”You’re so pretty” Sokka uttered, catching you off guard making you think you’d heard him wrong. ”What?” you questioned. ”I-I mean… your robes are so pretty, you know, such a nice color and what are those? Water lilies? So nicely detailed” Sokka blabbed gesturing to the embroidered flowers on the bottom of your robes.

”Uhm… Thanks” you said still a bit stunned at the interaction.

Soon Katara and Aang arrived and you made your way to the village. You showed them around the different market stands, as they filled their baskets with food and supplies for their travels.

You even bought some treats that you snacked on in the middle of the town square, watching people at work and as they greeted they interacted with each other.

But soon the peace was broken as Fire Nation soldiers entered the village, Aang and Katara were quick to grab you and pull you in to an alley between two houses.

The leader of the Fire Nation soldiers moved to the front ”Where is the Avatar?! We’ve gotten word that last time he was spotted he was heading in the direction of this village”. The crowd stood silent.

”Well then if you don’t want to talk, then maybe we’ll have to show you what happens when you hold the truth from the Fire Nation” the leader said and his soldiers surrounded one of the market stands.

You could see Aang and Katara readying themselves for battle but you held up your hand to them and said ”Don’t”. Before you could explain the Fire Nation soldiers set the market stand a blaze.

Katara and Aang started running out of the alley but you grabbed them and pulled them both back. ”Don’t! We need to get you two back to the farm”.

”But they’ll destroy your village” Aang pleaded. ”No, they’re only trying to scare information out of us, they don’t know you were actually here” you told them and they gave you a questioning look.

”They’ll only want to destroy us if they knew you guys were here and we’ve been hiding it from them, but if they think you were never here then they’ll leave us alone” you explained.

You turned back to look at the leader of the soldiers as he told the crowd ”Tonight, after the assigned curfew we’ll search your houses and if we find a single sign the Avatar was here your village will suffer the wrath of the Fire Nation”. He then turned his back and he and his soldiers left the village.

You turned to Katara and Aang and said ”Go back to the farm, get Sokka and hide in the barn, we’ll have to figure out a way to smuggle you out without the Fire Nation seeing you” you said.

You then walked out to the village square and water bended some of the water out of a fountain to help put out the market stand.

When you got back to the farm you went in to the barn where the Avatar and his friends were waiting as instructed. ”Were everybody in village alright?” Aang asked. ”Yes, they’re fine just a bit shaken” you told him.

”But we need to figure out how to get you guys out of here before the Fire Nation comes back” you stated. There was a moment of silence before Sokka said ”I have a plan”.

His plan was that when it turned dark he and the others would sneak deep in to forest with Appa, before taking off so that you and your family would not be found out with hiding them from the Fire Nation.

”Can I do anything to help?” you asked them. Sokka looked at you with a grateful smile and said ”You’ve already done more than enough for us, you should make sure to stay inside so you’re not seen, to keep you safe” he explained.

”Alright. It’s been really nice meeting you all. Good luck on your journey. I hope I’ll see you again sometime” you said giving them a polite bow, you then left them and made your way back to the house.

As the sun started to set you grew more and more worried the trio, what if they were caught by the Fire Nation, what would happen to them…

Once it was finally dark outside your heart was pounding all through dinner with your parents. You couldn’t take it anymore and as soon as you finished your dinner you went back to your room.

Only to almost scream when you opened the door, finding Sokka climbing through your window. ”Sokka?! What are you doing here?” you panicked. ”Don’t worry, we’re just about to leave, I just quickly wanted to stop by and talk to you” he said.

”About what?” you asked. ”I just needed to thank you again for what you’ve done for us and I wish I had more time to get to know you better cause you seem great” Sokka confessed taking your hand in his. You smiled.

”I wish we had more time too” you said making Sokka smile brightly too. ”Well then, why don’t you come with us, you can learn Waterbending with Aang and Katara up in the Northern Water Tribe too?” Sokka suggested impulsively.

”Sokka, I can’t, I’m needed here with my family and my village, at least for now” you told him, he looked down disappointment.

You then decided on impulse ”But I tell you what, when you guys are done up in the Northern Water Tribe and start traveling the Earth Kingdom, I’d love to join you guys, if you’ll have me”. Sokka frown then turned in to a small smile and he said ”It’s a deal”.

”You should get going now, the Fire Nation will be here soon” you told him. ”Right” Sokka remembered and turned back to climb out of your window. ”Oh and Sokka, one last thing” you said making him turn around. ”Yeah?” he asked and was answered as you placed a kiss on his cheek.

”Stay safe” you added. ”You too” he said planting a kiss on your cheek. He then climbed out of the window and ran off towards Aang and Katara who were trying to stealthily lead Appa in to the woods, hard as it might be. ”How’d it go?” Aang asked. To which Sokka could only reply ”He’s amazing”.

#sokka x male reader #avatar the last airbender #x male!reader #male reader #x male reader #atla x male reader #avatar the last airbender x male reader #team avatar x male reader #sokka x male reader headcanons

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p0orbaby · 1 year ago

Text

We’ll Write History Together

summary: being in relationship with a teammate is all fun and games, until it isn’t

warnings: fluff, angst, a little suggestive. A whole lot of everything tbf

a/n: something a little longer

word count: 1.9k

In the bustling world of professional football, two rising stars shone brighter than most - Alessia Russo and you.

United’s decision to sign you the sent shockwaves through the footballing community. You arrived at the club with an impressive season at City under your belt. And with the intention of forming an unstoppable partnership with their star forward, the expectations were high and the spotlight burned intensely.

The two of you quickly became the keystones of the team’s success. Alessia with her strength and knack for goals, and you with your tactical brilliance and playmaking skills. On the pitch, your synergy was undeniable, each pass and assist between you a testament to the unspoken connection that seemed to blossom from each game to the next. Fans began to chant your names in unison. The media coined you signing of the season only three games in. It was then that the dynamic duo was born.

“You like her don’t you?” Maya asked one afternoon after training.

“Of course I do” you replied, “she’s my friend”

Your teammate laughed brazenly at your answer. She knew you were lying. Anyone with eyes and ears knew you were lying.

“Friends don’t look at each other the way you two do”

She left you with a pat on your back and a knowing smile as she walked away. You couldn’t deny the truth in her words. The connection between you and Alessia went beyond friendship, beyond the pitch, but you had yet to find the words to express it.

“Will you just shut up, Alessia?”

“Me? You’re the one who started this!” She countered.

The recovery room door slammed shut behind you. The sound echoing off the walls.

“My through ball was perfect and you know it” you seethed as you turned to point a finger at her. “If you just used your head for a change you might have gotten on the end of the damn thing”

Alessia shot back, “Oh, please! Your so-called ‘perfect’ through ball was way off target. If you could pass a ball correctly, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

You clenched your fists, frustration mounting. “It’s like you have no vision on the field. I’m doing my best out there, but you’re always out of fucking position”

Alessia’s eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she walked towards you, “Out of position? That’s rich coming from someone who can’t even trap a simple pass”

You shit back, closing the gap even further, “Well, maybe if you made a real effort to defend properly, we wouldn’t be chasing the game all the time”

“Jesus, all you think about is winning,” she snapped.

“Second in the league isn’t winning, Alessia”

Alessia’s frustration bubbled over, her voice trembling with anger. “You’re insufferable!”

“And you’re a spoiled brat”

Then it happened, with your faces inches apart and your breath dancing across the other's anger heated skin. The gap between the two of you closed, complete with the crashing of lips and the grabbing of waists.

Alessia's mouth moved against yours impatiently, while you grappled at the collar of her jersey to keep her close. She nipped and sucked and you sighed when she trailed sloppy kisses down your neck.

You knew it was coming. The World Cup was a welcome distraction. But the higher you climb, the harder you fall.

She’d talked to you extensively about it. Conversations between sheets. Whispered words against skin on journeys to stadiums. Even having known for so long it didn’t seem real.

Alessia was leaving United.

“Why does it feel like we’re saying goodbye?” You sniff. Her thumb coming up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

“We’ll see eachother in a couple of weeks”. Her fingers tracing shapes against your palm. Something that would normally make your skin light on fire, but this time did nothing to quell your upset.

“I know, it’s just… it’s hard to imagine not having you here,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Alessia’s gaze softened, and she pulled you into a warm embrace. “You’ll have Toone, and Zel” she reassured. “You won’t even notice I’m gone”

You sniffed again, using the sleeve of your hoodie to wipe your face. God, you hated this.

“Two weeks” you reminded yourself.

“Two weeks” she repeated, “and we’ll be back together. Me and you, like it should be”

“Fuck, I missed you”

Your words were rushed and muffled as Alessia pulled your shirt over your head. Two weeks. Fourteen days since you’d touched her. Kissed her. Held her close.

It was torture. And you’ll have to endure it for years. The back and forth up and down the country. The unthinkable distance between your heart and hers. But for now, for the next few days, she was all yours.

Your shirt was tossed somewhere in the room. You embraced Alessia with devour born from weeks of pent up longing. The sensation of her skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine. A stark reminder of what you had been missing.

You kissed her deeply, savouring the taste of her.

“The girls- fuck” she was cut off by your nipping at her collar bones. “The girls want to meet you”

“Can you not talk about other girls when I’m about to fuck you, please?”

Your girlfriend released a breathy laugh as you lifted her and walked her over to the couch. The bed too far and you lacking the patience to get there.

Two weeks, you thought as you pulled down the cup of her bra and sucked a purple bruise into the flesh there. How would you last the foreseeable?

You wanted to throw up.

She was home, but not how you wanted her to be.

She was wearing different colours. Standing on opposite ends of the pitch. Worlds apart in more ways than one.

They scored first, and it stung to see her celebrate with people who weren’t you. Her joy, once so intimately shared, was now with her new teammates, not the ones who had once stood by her side.

Then, amidst the huddle of players, she caught your eye. Her cheeks flushed with the exertion of the game. For a moment, as the referee’s whistle blew, you both locked eyes, and in that exchange, you could see a flicker of the connection that had once bound you together as players. But it was fleeting, lost in the chaos of the match, and soon, you were back to being opponents on that vast, unforgiving pitch.

“There's been a lot of discussion about your relationship with Alessia Russo since her move to Arsenal. Do you think your personal lives might have a negative impact during any further games, especially with the Nations League qualifiers?”

You feel a rush of anger building up at the question, knowing it’s a subject you’d rather avoid. Taking a deep breath, you respond firmly, “Our personal lives are just that – personal. When we step onto the field, our focus is on the game and representing our respective teams to the best of our abilities. Any distractions off the pitch won’t affect our commitment to performing on it”

Just as you finish your response, another reporter chimes in, “But there’s no denying the crucial goal you missed in the game tonight. With England Lionesses manager, Sarina Wiegman, in the stands, do you think such moments might impact your chances of getting called up for international duty?”

Your frustration boils over. You respond with a touch of anger in your voice, “You know what? It’s easy to sit there and criticize from the sidelines, but every player has their off days. The presence of the manager is always a motivation to perform better, not a distraction. And as for whoever else is on the pitch, that is between me and them. I think we’re done here”

With that, you cut the conversation short, leaving the reporters with no room for further questions.

‘Strained Synergy: Rumors Swirl as Key Players' Relationship reaches Breaking Point’

You scoffed at the headline, tossing your phone onto the shag rug in the living room of Alessia's North London flat.

“Stop reading those”

You let out an exasperated sigh and glance over at Alessia, who’s sitting on the couch, an unimpressed look on her face. She’s seen these headlines and rumors many times before, and she knows they can be frustrating.

“I know, I should just ignore them,” you reply, burrowing further into the sofa cushions. “But it’s hard not to get annoyed when they twist everything out of proportion”

The blonde reaches out and gently places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, remember what we always say? They don’t know the real us. We’re stronger than any rumor or headline”

You shrug out of her touch, “are we?” You snap.

Alessia’s eyebrows furrow in response, her own patience fraying at the edges. “Why are you getting so worked up over these headlines? It’s not the first time they’ve targeted us”

You shoot back, frustration seeping into your tone, “Because it’s relentless. They twist everything, make us out to be something we’re not. It’s exhausting”

“Then what are we, huh?” She asked, voice getting louder. “You don't talk to me, you don’t return my calls. I had to beg you for days just to get you to come down to watch the game tomorrow”

Your frustration turns to petulance, and you huff, "I’m here, aren’t I? What else do you want me to do?”

Alessia’s voice trembles, and her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “What do I want?” She pauses, her words laced with pain. “I want the person I fell in love with back”

Alessia’s post-match glow was something you could only strive for.

As you sat there admiring her, taking in the way she moved, the flex of her hand each time she pulled a dart from the board, how she pulled her hair from her face with each throw, you couldn’t help but wonder how you got so lucky.

“C’mere” you found yourself saying. Her eyes meeting yours under the dim lights of the bar.

Alessia’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she set the darts aside and joined you. Your hands guided her by the waist, positioning her between your legs as you perched on a barstool.

“I said, come here”

The girl’s eyes widened with anticipation as you beckoned her closer still. This time, there was no mistaking your intent. Her body flush against yours when your lips meet.

You’d missed this. You’d missed her.

“I’m so proud of you, you know” you mumble against her mouth when you pull away.

“I know you are”

“No, I mean it” you insist. “My talented girl”. You cleared your throat as she looked down on you. Her stare making you nervous. “I think we should set things straight, at camp, I mean. I want to make things right”

Your girlfriend looked at you in confusion. Brows furrowing as she tried to understand what you were getting at.

"A few days, football, and no media," you clarified, your voice carrying the weight of your hopes. "We can regroup, start fresh, rediscover the spark that brought us together in the first place”

She wanted this as much as you did, but you knew the decision lay in her hands. The unspoken question hung in the air, waiting for her agreement.

"Camp it is," she finally said, a soft smile gracing her lips as she met your gaze. It was a simple phrase, but it carried a promise of renewal and a chance to restrengthen your bond.

You couldn't help but return her smile, your heart light with the prospect of getting a chance to be better.

Camp it is.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #muwfc #muwfc x reader #awfc x reader #awfc #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader

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devildom-moss · 1 year ago

Note

Could you write poly dialuci asking a gn mc out? Maybe how each of them realizes the crush they have on mc and how they’d like to ask mc to join their relationships? I’m fine with just hcs or a full piece, whatever works best for you :>

I wrote you some headcanons, anon. Hopefully they are to your liking. They're a pretty common ship, but I think this is my first time writing anything for them. (Am I going to need a ship and threesome section in my masterlist soon?)

Poly!DiaLuci want MC to join them

(Lucifer x Diavolo x gn!MC)

(Slightly suggestive)

Word Count: +700

Diavolo, as the prince, is more guarded and inaccessible than Lucifer, so it takes him longer to be completely smitten. This works out better because Lucifer would be more prone to jealousy than Diavolo – or, at least, Lucifer's jealousy is more petty and bitter than Diavolo’s.

Lucifer develops feelings through a series of kind acts. Seeing MC take care of his brothers is the first step; someone who treats his brothers well is a prerequisite. As much as he likes to act all tough, and despite how he scolds them for spoiling his brothers and encouraging their poor behavior, he’s actually endeared by it. When they extend that kindness to him afterwards, his heart begins to melt.

Lucifer falls first, but he doesn’t act on it in earnest. (He might flirt and tease a little bit, but he doesn’t truly make an attempt to seduce them.) Diavolo notices, but instead of being jealous, he’s just intrigued. He wants to get to know MC more. Anyone who can capture Lucifer’s attention has Diavolo’s interest.

Lucifer tries to play the long game with Diavolo, believing that it’s only a matter of time before his partner sees MC’s charm as well.

It doesn’t take long for MC to get to Diavolo once he becomes more receptive. Whenever they do something thoughtful, Diavolo melts instantly. It would be something simple, like bringing a limited-edition flavor pudding to Diavolo while he’s working. As chance would have it, there was only one left. Diavolo would offer a bite to MC, and despite Lucifer being in the same room, he would insist on feeding them.

MC’s smile was so sweet that Diavolo would offer another bite, but MC would refuse because they got it for Diavolo. He should eat the rest. With that, MC would be on their way, leaving Diavolo to his pudding and work.

Lucifer saw the way Diavolo looked at MC and decides to confront him. Lucifer already understands how he feels about MC. Now is his chance to bring Diavolo onto his playing field. There was a quiet understanding that they were both crushing based on how they spoke about and looked at MC recently; Lucifer was just waiting for more tangible proof to bring up the topic. (And honestly, I think Diavolo would already be aware of Lucifer’s plan, so he chose to feed MC in front of Lucifer on purpose. He also just wanted to feed them, though.)

“You’re quite fond of them, aren’t you?” “I suppose I am. You can’t blame me, though, can you, Lucifer?” “We’re of the same mind. What should we do about this?”

They would hatch a plan to get MC alone and try to seduce them together. I imagine Lucifer would suggest that they invite them to tea or for a glass of Demonus – ideally at the castle for the sake of privacy. Lucifer just wants somewhere intimate where they could confess. (And let’s face it he’s horny on main. He wants to confess somewhere where they won’t be interrupted after the confession, either.)

Diavolo, on the other hand, would want to show off a bit more – take MC out and spoil them; he wants to prove that it’s a date before they can even confess. He’d want to take them somewhere fancy or beautiful: renting out an entire restaurant, paying for a private room at a club (which honestly gives me so many smut thoughts sorry), or even bringing them on a day trip if he can get the time.

They’re pretty upfront about it and quickly ask about MC’s feelings. “MC, we’ve brought you here today to discuss something in particular.” “How do you feel about us?”

Once they confirm MC’s feelings, they’ll confess properly. (Although, I don’t think they would invite MC on a date if they weren’t certain that MC would return their feelings beforehand.) “I see. Have you entertained any particularly naughty thoughts about us that you’d like to share, MC?” “Lucifer! Don’t tease them so soon. We should at least be honest first. MC, you’ve caught our attention. Neither of us is opposed to sharing if it means getting closer to you.” “Which is to say, if you’re interested, Diavolo and I are not so exclusive that you couldn’t join us: romantically. . . or sexually, if you’re inclined.”

Honestly, I think Diavolo would immediately put the moves on MC, asking them to come over and sit on his lap while they “get to know each other better.” Lucifer will pretend to be more composed, but he’s no better; he’s eager to get his hands on MC too.

A/N: There's only one more day left in to answer the December post poll. I also posted details about what I'll be doing for the 1 year anniversary of this blog. Check that out if you haven't already.

#anon #requests #lucifer #diavolo #gn!mc #obey me headcanons #dialuci #lucifer x diavolo #lucifer x diavolo x mc #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo

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scoobydoodean · 6 months ago

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(abuse mention) let it bleed is an interesting episode but the bit where dean smacks ben always makes me so confused bc it feels like gamble dropped that in and then didnt. fucking address it. like i dont know if its fair to call it abuse bc dean was in a Very high stress situation and trying to get his attention, but it feels SO out of left field for dean and it feels like it was just there for shock value or there without much thought to what it means for dean and implies about his upbringing.

Ngl this doesn't bother me. Lisa was bleeding out, Sam was not answering the phone (because he was knocked out and locked in a room), and the whole building was warded against angels. Dean had to carry Lisa out because Ben wasn't big enough, and there were still demons in the building ready to kill them. So when Ben shut down at the crucial moment, Dean did... what he had to do in that situation. Slapping anyone is generally not advisable, and it isn't a pleasant thing to do to anybody under any circumstances, but the entire situation isn't pleasant or normal and normal circumstances cannot and do not pertain to it. The entire experience is traumatic and something no one should ever have to experience, but especially not a child. I also wouldn't call it abuse. Abuse is about consolidating power, while this moment is about being placed in a life threatening situation by a third party who wishes to do all of you harm. You have no options other than to move immediately or you are all going to die.

That said, I do also think this moment and Dean having to put a gun in Ben's hand after swearing Ben would never shoot one (6.02) contributes massively to Dean asking Cas to erase him from Lisa and Ben's lives (coupled with the lies from the demon who possessed Lisa about wishing she'd never met Dean). Dean didn't want Ben to have to live with a traumatic memory like this above all else. These kinds of experiences are things Dean believes change a person irreparably based on his own experiences. I'm sure he was also terrified that losing Lisa would send Ben down the hunter's path, and it made Dean so sick he couldn't stomach it. I don't think you're wrong to suggest maybe there's an intended nod to Dean's own upbringing here (nod @ 6.02), but the crucial difference (that Dean himself likely fails to see) is that Dean is not actually the one who put Lisa and Ben in this situation. He blames himself for it, but the person who put them in this situation was Crowley. No ifs, no ands, no buts. Dean was so scared something like this would happen that he left Lisa and Ben pretty early into the season and he and Lisa broke up. They were no longer associated. Dean expecting himself to have forseen all of this assigns a level of responsibility and clairvoyance that is completely unreasonable. In contrast, John put his children in situations like this of his own free will. No one forced him to do it. He chose to make them hunters. He chose to put guns in their hands and teach them to fight monsters. He chose to put their lives at risk from the time they were very young.

#mail #ben #lisa #6.21 #season 6 #pk rewatches spn number ?#i dont deserve what he put on me #dean and guilt #deanlisa

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yallthemwitches · 2 months ago

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“Hi! I just wanted to say I’m absolutely in love with your stories—they’re amazing! If you ever feel inspired, I’d love to see a spicy James/Lily fic with some light bondage (doesn’t matter who ties up who). Just an idea from an obsessed fan!”

Love! ❤️

Thank you so so much! This is very sweet of you to say! As for the spicy fic suggestion:

Short Answer: Yes! I'd love to!

Long Answer: Here it is! (all 4k words of it...whew)

I'm going to add it to my smut prompt collection on AO3, Crash Into Me or you can read it under the cut!

Thanks for the idea! I love getting sent things people would like to read, it gets me out of my own head and forces me to write things I might have put off doing! It was super fun and I'm kinda shocked I haven't done something like this sooner.

Enjoy! (AO3 Link Here)

She’s infuriating him and she knows it.

What's worse is that it’s exactly what she wants, hoping to break him down until he’s just a little puddle at her feet. All of their Heads’ duties together have started to devolve into this: a silly game they play to see how far they can make it before someone inevitably gets pushed up against a wall or led into an abandoned classroom. He doesn’t really know who wins, but it doesn’t matter. Both of them want the same thing.

He should have expected it when McGonagall left them both alone in her office after their monthly check-in--as soon as the lock clicks on the door Lily is in action, moving from her seat to stand in front of him with a coy smile.

“Hey you.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, sliding so she faces him on his lap, her thighs pressing against his to dangle on the sides of the chair.

“What are you up to?” He hums, arching an eyebrow. Even after months of having her this close, he is still amazed that he has the cognitive function to tease her. Her body against his does dangerous things to his mental capacity.

“Oh, waiting for you to finish so we can patrol,” she murmurs. Her body language says she has absolutely no interest in heads’ work, arms curling around his neck to press soft fingers through his hair. His eyes flutter closed in response, trying to keep composure while his trousers already start to strain.

It takes all his strength to call her bluff but he forces his eyes back to the schedule. She doubles her efforts, planting slow, languid kisses against his pressure point until she reaches the hollow of his throat and starts the path over again. It’s a clear sign: the game has started. You are my willing participant.

“Evans–” He doesn’t know when his hand had stilled, but the schedule now bears a jagged black line where his writing had gone slack with distraction. “I can’t focus.”

“Then try to push me off.”

The request isn’t completely out of left field, but it still makes him want to laugh. The first time she had ever asked him to fight back against her, he had laughed, almost crazed when she pouted and writhed against him in persistence. “Why would I ever want to get away from you, Evans?” He had said, “ Most days, I’m fighting to be as close to you as humanly possible.”

They both know that it would take next to nothing for him to remove her from his lap, but that isn’t the point–it isn’t the game. What she is really asking for is the struggle, the power play that in earlier years came in the form of verbal dueling, but is now distilled into physical touch.

He puts down the quill slowly, mulling over all possible scenarios this might go. They didn’t know how long McGonagall would be gone, nor did they have the time seeing as their patrol started in five minutes, but that was the big issue wasn’t it: he didn’t care--and apparently neither did she.

“You realize all I need to do is stand up and you lose, right?” He says, an arm wrapping around her waist under the guise of being ready to tug. Instead it pulls her closer. Her eyes blink up at him, decidedly wicked in nature. She lifts back up to place a soft, contemplative kiss on his lips.

“You’re right—too easy,” she concedes, giving him a deeper kiss this time. “New objective then: If I make it to the door we have to do patrols, but if you can stop me in time…”

She doesn’t even need to say what the stakes are, the answer already hangs heavy like fog in the room. Then you can shag me, right here. Right in McGonnagall’s bloody office.

Now that was a game he was dying to win.

It makes him lose his head, eyes too busy scanning the room for all the many ways and places he can take her, that by the time she says ‘ go’ he is already frighteningly hard for her.

She jumps off his lap, taking small, timid steps towards the back of the room, turning each time to shoot him a smile. He could get up and pull her back right now without even taking more than a large step but he knows that’s not what she wants. She wants him to actually play along, to make it interesting for her.

So he waits, leaning back in his seat and ignoring the ache that comes from just the anticipation of the inevitable–because it was inevitable. He was going to have her whether he won or not.

He watches her with a smug smile until she’s made it a couple of meters to the door before standing up, walking at a deliberately slow pace like an animal in hunt. His approach ignites something in her and a bubble of laughter escapes, a beautiful, frantic noise that holds as much joy in it as desire. Her energy surges and she catches speed, only needing to cross a meter to touch the wood of the door…

Her fingers barely reach out for the finish line when he wraps an arm around her waist and spins her against the wall directly beside the door. An impatience takes over and his mouth is on hers, tongue demanding entrance while his hands move rabid downwards to hitch under her skirt.

Meanwhile, she continues to laugh, shrieking and pushing at him to move just centimeters to the right to where the grain of the door frame begins, but her squirming just makes it easier for him to part her legs and slot himself against her, pressing her firm against stone.

“No fair!” She squeals between peals of laughter. She continues to giggle and wiggle against him until his hand finds the band of her knickers. Her attempts to push past him falter, moans taking over and filling the room with their deep, velvet sound.

“C’mon Evans,” he breathes into her ear, “You’re so close. Try to win.”

She gives a lackluster push to his chest and he catches both her hands in one of his own, lifting them above her head. His brain is swimming, all thought in a freefall with only one end in sight.

“Baby—” Her eyes close, back arching so her bottom half presses closer into the stilled hand just above her pelvic bone. “ Please.”

“You have to say it, Evans,” he says. The grip on her hands tightens and she interlaces her fingers. “Tell me what you want, please. I need to hear it.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“How?”

It makes her writhe, her impatience starting to seep in. Her hips buck underneath him and it zaps pleasure straight into his erection, making it nearly unbearable to not just grind back into her.

“With your fingers, tongue, cock. All of it. James— please.”

They are words that will haunt him forever.

He gives her at least one of the things she asked for and drops his fingers between her legs, finding the fabric there sticky and thick.

“Merlin, Lily. You’re soaked,” he gasps, fingers sliding under to drift through her folds. It makes him dizzy how easy he slips inside, hand practically dripping already just from contact.

“Were you wet like this in our meeting?”

“Since before even,” she gasps, hips rolling into the palm of his hand. “But the way you looked just now, right before you got me against the wall. Jesus, Potter. You looked like you wanted to devour me.”

He slides another finger in and her head bends forward, leaning against his chest. Her breath is hot against his shirt and makes the white become transparent against his skin.

“I want to devour you–,” he corrects, “--present tense.”

She pulls back and her eyes burn at him, almost resembling the cross expression she would wear when they used to row. He twists his fingers and her eyes flutter, her bottom lip disappearing against white teeth.

“Go on then, do it.”

He enters some sort of fugue state, pulling his soaked hand out of her and clawing at her skirt until it becomes a pool at their feet. His teeth find the knot in her tie and yank it loose, trailing her own wetness through her blouse to fiddle with the buttons.

She follows suit, releasing her hands from above her head to untuck his shirt, breathing heavily against him when she cups him through his pants to unbutton his trousers. Her touch knocks him back into reality and his hips instinctually grind to get closer to her touch.

“I want to lick you against this wall,” he tells her, voice low and rough. Underneath her palm his cock aches, clenching all the muscles in his body like it’s ready to go into shock unless he gets to her now. “I want to get you so close to coming with my mouth that you are dripping down your leg. I want to carry you back to Mcgonagall's desk and take you right on top of those bloody schedules. I want to watch your tits bounce from my cock pumping inside you. Fuck, I want— I need– to hear you scream my name.”

He drops to his knees in the pool of their collective clothing, placing a hand against the flat plane of her stomach until she is flush with the wall. Her hands grab for his hair, tugging him forwards while her body arches to meet him and he grabs hold of a thigh to drape over his shoulder, opening her up further. She’s so wet between her legs the fabric of her knickers are discolored. Her center is a deep pool of green surrounded by a sheen painted to her thighs.

“I want that too. Do whatever you want. You won.”

It’s enough to make him short circuit.

He’s shocked at his restraint, mouth and cock literally watering at the view of her. But as much as he wants to bite her knickers away and press his tongue inside her, he wants to hear her say it more.

“Tell me again.”

She lets out a frustrated gasp as he stalls, pulling his head back enough to make eye contact with her. Gazing down at him she looks utterly crazed, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.He wants to remember it forever.

When she doesn’t respond, he hooks a finger around the inside of her knickers, the contact with her center making her mewl with pleasure. He pulls back the fabric and his mouth drops open. It’s not the first time he has looked at her like this but to see her swollen and yearning and dripping like that? It’s the most beautiful sight in the world.

“Tell me.” He prods, holding her knickers against her thigh.

“You git, you just want me to beg,” she says, her face contorting into a frown.

It wasn’t what he was fishing for, but now it’s all he wanted.

“Yes– oh fuck– yes.”

She tries again to arch her body towards his face, but the hand on her stomach keeps her against the wall, giving no other choice.

“Touch me, Potter,” she cries, exasperated. He’s got her to the breaking point, that sweet spot where her desire and her anger are too overlapped to be distinguishable. At the beginning of their relationship it was the only sensation she had for him, unable to disconnect their years of annoyance with how much she wanted him. It only made him want her more.

“Let me come on your tongue, then—christ— then hold me down and fuck me. Fuck me until I don’t even know where I am anymore. Fuck me until I can’t even think—”

“Shit, yes.”

He surges upwards and she lets out a gasp of satisfaction. Her body melts under his tongue, head falling back against the stone wall and fingers pressing him closer into her as he begins his ministrations. The sounds begin falling from her lips and he knows how to keep them coming, having spent one glorious afternoon months ago taking turns going down on the other, coaching on what pressure to give where and what spot makes them unravel almost immediately.

His tongue paints against her, slipping easily through her folds and dipping inside until her hand shakes against his skull. The noises make way for words, an endless string of them that shoot from his eardrums right to the center of his cock, getting him so close without even being touched.

“James, baby. I can’t stand how fit you look, how bloody good you make me feel,” she says, giving a shallow moan when he gasps right into her. “I have no idea what McGonagall was saying in that meeting–I couldn’t stop imagining you bending me over that desk. That’s all I can think about these days. In class, at meetings, touching myself at night. Just sitting in the same room as you makes me wet— fuck.”

Fuck is right. Her words make him press farther, edging on aggressive. To say he wanted to devour her was right too. He wants every last drop of her.

She’s close, her body giving the telltale quivers that mean she is just at the edge. He slows, giving long pressured strokes that have always made her unravel.

“James—holy fuck —James.”

Her body shakes and under his mouth he can feel her contract. He continues his path, carrying her through it until the overstimulation makes her yank back at the roots of his hair. Spent, she slides against the wall to the ground, her legs jutted out in opposite directions and head tilted back.

“Jesus Christ, Potter,” she pants, catching her breath. Her hair frames her face like a halo, eyes open. Some of the frenzy has lessened but the burning in her irises remains. Her tongue flicks out and licks at the bottom of her lip, unhinging part of his nervous system.

“You are so lovely—so unbelievable,” he says, caressing her ankle which had shifted onto his lap. She closes her eyes at his touch, shaking her head against the wall for a moment before picking herself up and leaning inwards to fall cradled into his arms.

“We still have patrols to do—” she whispers into his chest. A finger outlines the contours of his muscles, dragging down to his stomach. “--but I still want you…if you still want to—”

The finger descends, finding him still very much throbbing for her under his pants. They both moan at the contact, his arms encircling and finding her bum to press her fully onto his lap.

“If I still want to what?” He whispers, pulling her legs to wrap around him. He’s already heard her say it once, but he wants the reminder, wants to hear it as many times as he can coax out of her until she makes him implode.

“I want you to tie me up and fuck me on the desk.”

All of his cognitive function ceases to exist.

“What?” His tone must have been of utter shock because she immediately flushes red, lowering her face away from him.

“No, look at me Evans–Lily. Seriously. I just…I just need you to say it again to make sure I am absolutely certain I heard you correctly because, holy shit—”

A thousand images swirl into his mind. They had done some wild things in the past–certainly led a more exploratory sex life than most of the other couples around–but never before something so outright kinky as that. Sure, they loved a good semi-public touching or stray finger from behind when the moment struck, but this. This request opened a whole new door for them and she wanted it.

Frankly, he could come right then and there, just by the thought of it. No further actions needed.

She lets out a little squeak, hands balling at the base of his neck. He can feel her heart beating out of her ribcage against him and he places a soft kiss on her lips, encouraging her to continue.

“I just…I liked it earlier when you held my hands above me on the wall.”

Yes, yes, yes. Oh Merlin, fuck yes.

“Whatever you want, I’ll do it,” he says quickly, his enthusiasm taking control. “You need to lead the way though because– fuck— I want whatever you want so badly, but I also don’t want to go too far.”

She does something unexpected and laughs, her body shaking against his. “James I don’t think you’re capable of–”

“No, I mean it,” he says, voice cracking. “It’s one thing when we are just pushing each other and having a laugh—I know those limits. But something like–” he voice cuts off, brain flooding with all sorts of visuals of her held down, screaming his name, “--like that. I don’t trust myself. You need to walk me through it.”

She presses her lips to the hollow of his collar bone, hot breath billowing against him. His mind can’t stop racing, his heart like a canon shooting off endlessly in his ribcage.

“Well, then. I guess for starters, you should get me on the table.”

He can feel her amused smile against him, but he doesn’t care. She can tease him for taking it seriously all she wants, but he wants this to be done right.

Carrying her over to the table would have been a lot easier if it wasn’t for the way her entrance pressed right into him. The mixture of her wetness and his saliva seeping right into his pants and making his cock ache in agony.

“I’m telling you now Evans. I’m going to last five seconds—real amateur hour. Just the thought of you tied up…I don’t know what it’s doing to my brain but I’m fucked. I’m going to be a fucking mess. ”

He lays her down on the table, pushing aside his quill but otherwise not caring about the parchments of scheduling lying under her. She stretches out like a cat, legs slightly bent but her hands going over her head, making her breasts jut out.

Godric help me.

He lowers himself over her, pressing his cock into her hip bone and waving forward to release some of the tension that has been building up. She gasps, her arms stretching higher until she intertwines her fingers again like she did on the wall. He kisses her, letting his tongue lap into her slowly so she can taste the lingering wetness of her climax coated to his lips.

“Use a tie.”

When she pants it into his mouth, his whole body reacts—a frantic jerk forward that creaks the wood of the table.

“Fuck Evans— you are a dream come true. You are everything.” He pulls at the tie that flaps helpless around her neck alongside her opened blouse and it flutters in his hand. Surely this will ruin uniforms for him forever. He won’t be able look at a Hogwarts tie without thinking about her naked body flushed underneath him on the desk. He will have to start practicing his illusion charms, otherwise he’ll be cursed with an erection during school hours for the rest of his life.

He looks at her for approval and she stares up at him with unbridled anticipation, irises glittering with excitement. Pulling the tie around her wrists, he makes a hesitant knot and attempts to tug her hands away from each other, testing to make sure it’s tight enough to hold but not digging in.

“I know I’m absolutely inflating your ego, but it’s just unfair how fit you look without a shirt,” she says under him. “Like, Jesus. If this goes well I want to tie you up next and kiss every inch of you.”

“Fuck, Promise?” He doesn’t realize he has said it out loud until her laugh echoes around the room. The shake of the table now doing dangerous things to his leaking cock.

“One thing at a time, Potter,” she says, pulling up to give him a kiss. “I need you to fuck me now…and judging from the look of your pants, you really need that too.”

He doesn’t need to hear it twice. Pulling off the table, he shucks his pants off without looking, eyes unable to tear away from the absolute feast of the senses laying against the table with tits and hips arched upwards and ready.

With no hesitation, he crawls up on the table until he is level with her, his cock dragging slowly up her thigh.

“Again, Lily. I’ll apologize now. You are just so so lovely. I can’t believe you even let me touch you much less tie you up and—”

“For chrissake James. Stop talking and shag me.”

It’s the best thing she’s ever said to him.

His cock slides into her easily and her walls immediately contract around him. They both gasp in tandem, her body practically levitating off the table from how much she arches. The pebble of her tits brush against his chest and he dips down to take one in his mouth, not removing a hand from where her hands are bound above her head.

It’s like going back in time. The slow gentle rock of his hips testing out the waters to make sure she is ok before going any deeper. He pulls back to watch his cock slip in and out, unable to keep his focus there or where her upper body writhes helpless, wanting to do its usual ministrations of carding through his hair or clawing at his back but unable to do so.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he pants as his thrusts speed up. The new movement rocks the desk and her tits bounce with it, beautiful and round and poised just for him. Her eyes don’t leave his, watching him with a glazed over expression as her mouth hangs wide, giving him instructions and praises in the same breath.

“ Harder—faster—yes, like that. Christ, James. Thank you—fuck.”

He’s embarrassingly close already. Unbearably so. But what she demands he gives, speeding up his movements, snapping his hips harder until the table groans and starts to splinter. If they have to get McGonagall a new desk, it’s worth it. Everything is worth it to see her like this.

The pressure mounts and he can feel the end drawing near. When he says as much, her eyes open wide, frantic once again with an epiphany.

“Turn me over. Turn me over and fuck me off the side. Fuck, James. Please.”

He swears quietly, a low droning shit as he hooks an arm around her waist and flips her onto her stomach. It takes everything in him to pull out of her so they can resituate, but immediately it becomes worth his while. She slides herself almost off the edge, lifting herself onto her knees so her bum stands into the air while her chest and bound arms lay rested against the tabletop.

The sight alone is indescribable, immediately burned into his memory to be revisited later, but it’s her stare that really does him in. Turning her head against the surface of the table, she stares up at him, the green of her irises reduced to a smoldering emerald. It’s the look of absolute pleading— how could he possibly last from a look like that?

Shaking, he stands behind her, taking in the view down the slope of her back to where the tie keeps her bound. She watches him, tracking his stare with a smile tugging at her lips.

“Nice view?”

It’s a laughable question. “Evans, you have no fucking clue.”

He bends down and gives one solid lick from her bum to her clit and it rewards him with a sharp squeal.

“Holy fuck, no fair!”

Always still a game. A game he hopes they never stop playing.

When he finally pushes in, the angle makes all the difference, hitting deeper into her than he was capable of with her just laying on the table. Unlike before, he doesn’t give any sort of gentle preamble to his movements, thrusting quick and deep inside her like she asked for. The sound of his hips snapping reverberates around the room and the wetness between her legs drips out against her thighs, easily visible now as the backdrop to his cock working inside her.

The pressure that was mounting before accelerates quickly and he thanks Godric he can feel her close too.

“I’m so close, Lily—I want you to come–no– need you to come. I want to feel you squeeze my cock like this.”

She looks like every fantasy he has ever had mixed into one image. Hair wild against her back, mouth open and panting, eyes— merlin her eyes— still watching him as he all but pounds into her.

“Come for me then, baby. I’ll come too, I promise. I want to feel you come inside me. Fuck, James. Let me feel—”

Like always, her words are what throws him over the edge. He shudders into a release, keeling over her backside and panting a string of swears as he empties into her. Through his climax, he feels her walls tighten around him and she comes too, hard and swift, with her lips pressing his name into the grain of the table.

When the fog finally lifts, he isn’t sure how long he remained inside her, but he pulls back, quickly scrambling for the tie.

“Are you alright? Was that too–”

But the second she has control of her hands again, she turns and pulls him against her, hands roaming as though making up for lost time held away. She presses their lips together, hungry but in a different way from the carnal act they just did. Hungry to show adoration.

“It was perfect. You are perfect,” she says into his mouth, hands finally carding through his hair. “You’re going to be the death of me really. I want to do everything with you.”

Everything? Everything sounds amazing.

“Should we start now?” Love rushes over him like a warm breeze, wanting to just hold her and caress every part of her body until he is hard again to do exactly what ‘everything’ entails. She just laughs, pushing away from him and padding over to her wand to clean up the messes between their legs.

“We can’t just hole up here and—”

“Of course we can,” he cuts her off with a grin, “Need I remind you, you made a lot of promises today that need to be fulfilled. Ones that I am ready to collect at your convenience.”

She laughs again, playfully throwing his clothes at his chest. He should be joking, but he has never been more serious in his life. McGonagall and Heads’ duties be damned. If it was up to him they would never leave this room.

“We have patrols to finish—-ones we never even started,” she hums, tugging up her skirt. He pouts and she crosses over to kiss it away. She gives one, then another, then he’s dropped his clothes back on the floor to pull her in closer again.

“You’re impossible,” she pants, coming up for air. “We’ve been here too long. If McGonagall decides to come back, we are in serious shit.” But she doesn’t pull away, tongue already tracing against his lower lip.

“Stop, we need to get going…”

Her hips jut forward and finding him already hardening again she smiles, pressing her lips to his jaw. Eventually she pushes away, but the look in her eyes still stands. A game already on the horizon.

“I'll make it worth while--we'll keep your tie handy.”

#jily #jily fanfiction #jily smut #my writing #tay speaks #james potter #lily evans #yay! Ideas!#poor McGonagalls desk #you get so abused in my smut fics

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