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strawberry-lemonade-kisses · 3 years ago

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Family Ties

Recovery was a long and tiring process. Kyojuro always struggled with it, having to rest and take the time to heal properly instead of helping with anything and everything he could. Shinobu had scolded him endlessly on why he couldn’t be messing around and trying to sneak out with his injuries, they were too severe for him to be acting like a child. He couldn’t help it though, his family was at home waiting for him. His beautiful baby girl and her adorable face, those tiny fingers and hands, the small tufts of blonde hair that she had. He only got to hold her once before Shinobu had him taken to the butterfly estate. He felt restless, knowing he couldn’t see his wife in her motherly glow, a glow that he only got to hold onto for a few minutes. It had been a full week since he was brought to the butterfly estate, confined to one of the rooms designated for the hashira, away from the chaos and yelling the rest of the estate contained.

“Rengoku, time for painkillers!” Shinobu fluttered into the room, a small packet of pills in one hand and a letter in the other. “Another love letter, I may have to start charging delivery between you two!” she flashed a smile, setting down the pills and handing Rengoku the letter. He tore it open quickly, not trying to save the envelope as he read over the letter his wife had penned.

My flame,

Hinata and I both miss you very much, her big eyes are always looking for something, I think it’s you. Shinobu says tomorrow if you keep behaving we can start visiting you. For the first time ever my flame, please relax. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out not seeing you. It’s cold at night, I find myself missing your company, your warm hands that are always wandering, holding onto me. Your chest, so warm and firm, I miss laying on it, listening to your heart. I miss hearing your voice, always so loud but so quiet when you only want me to hear what you are saying. It makes me feel so special. Hinata is the only one keeping me sane. She looks so much like you it's almost scary, but I won't lie. Nothing compares to you. I miss you. It's harder knowing you are so close but I can't see you or hear you, I can't even hold you. Please relax so I can come to see you, my love.

I love you to the sun and back,

Your flower

“Let me check your bandages and then I will let you know if they can come tomorrow” Kyojuro jumped at the sudden closeness of the insect Hashira, not quite used to the lack of peripherals on his left side. Setting the letter on the nightstand he scooted towards the edge of the large four-poster bed he had been resting in. Sitting as straight as he could without feeling pain, he raised his arms slightly, letting Shinobu unravel the bandages around his stomach. The wound had hindered most of his movements for the first few days in the estate but he had been getting better, small walks and even sitting in a chair had helped him regain some of that feeling of normal, even through the haze of the painkillers. He had decided not to bother struggling with a shirt, knowing it was too painful to go through the hassle when Shinobu came in every few hours to check the bandages. She mumbled small apologies as she unraveled the tape and gauze directly on the wound, trying to drown out the hisses of pain from Kyojuro.

"The staples are holding well, no tearing, no bleeding or abnormal discharge. You are healing as well as you could Kyojuro. I think it's safe to say you can see Y/N and Hinata tomorrow. But I will warn you now and later, Kyojuro. Do. Not. Exert. Yourself. I know you are excited and restless to spend time with your family and your new baby but if you hold her for too long and strain yourself I don't know if I have the knowledge to save you. You are lucky to be here now" Kyojuro understood her warning. He was beyond grateful to work alongside such a skilled and intelligent woman. The people she had trained to deal with life-threatening and fatal wounds like the one on his stomach have led to many lives saved that should have been lost, including his. He owed his life to her. He made a noise of agreement, trying not to move much while she laid a fresh bandage on the fist-sized wound his stomach sported. She was careful as she wrapped the gauze on his stomach, holding his bandage in place and stabilizing his torso so the quilts he was rolling around in didn't scratch him or remove his bandage.

"Tanjiro, inosuke, and Zenitsu have been asking about you. Do you think you feel well enough to see them?" Kyojuro perked up at the mention of the young slayers, their intervention of his fight with the upper 3 was another reason he was alive. He went straight to his estate after the battle, asking the Kakushi to assist him home once they stabilized him, not taking no for an answer. They only agreed once he tried crawling away from them, not bothering to listen. He didn't even explain his eagerness to get home so they deserve answers.

"Yes, is that their names? I would very much like to speak with them. Could they visit?" Shinobu chuckled at the excitement Kyojuro radiated as she threw the dirty bandages into the waste bin before turning back to the flame hashira.

"I'll have aoi bring them. She'll be coming soon with your tea and sweet potatoes. I don't know how you talked her into making your favorite snacks all the time but I think you may be her new favorite." With a smile she bowed, fluttering back out of the room as quick as she arrived.

Morning couldn’t come soon enough, having spent the rest of the afternoon focusing on what he wanted to do while he had the time with his wife and daughter, Kyojuro was distracted. The anticipation had made it hard for him to sleep, thoughts hounded by the idea of finally being able to hold the two most important people in his life. He was feeling strong enough to hold his daughter for more than a few minutes, he had willed his muscles to get better, trying to lift more and hold them for longer amounts of time. Just enough so Shinobu wouldn't yell at him and he could hold his baby girl. He couldn't hold back from the fact he missed his wife as well though, He had been away for a whole month, missing the final month of her pregnancy. When he received the letter from Shinobu, urgently written to tell of his wife giving birth, his heart sank, knowing he wasn’t any closer to going home. Now home had been within reach, and he couldn’t wait to close his fist around it and never let it go.

Kyojuro had adjusted the collar of his shirt for what seemed like the hundredth time, even though the shirt laid almost fully open, tucked into his hakama pants. He felt anxious at the arrival of his wife and daughter, ready to see them and spend all the time he could with them, but also, what if he messed up? This was only the second time he got to see his daughter, what if she didn’t like him or didn’t want to be held by him. His lack of full strength and the pain in his abdomen may be a hindrance to his quality time with his family. His thoughts were everywhere as he fiddled with his shirt and his hair, constantly adjusting everything, it had to be perfect for them. The door opening behind him pulled him from his downward spiral. Looking towards the door Kyojuro met the eyes of the person he had been missing, her reflection staring back at him through the mirror. Her yellow Kimono had been covered with one of his spare Haori, wrapped tightly over the sling on her chest, a gurgling baby nestled into her.

“Hi Handsome” She walked up to him, moving to stand in front of him as he turned to her. She stopped, eyes running over his face, the eyepatch he had been gifted from Shinobu, to cover his injury while it finished healing. The bruises on his temple had almost healed fully, and he was moving. It felt like she could breathe again, finally seeing with her own eyes that he was doing better. She trusted Shinobu with her life, but she felt so anxious not knowing exactly how Kyojuro was doing. He smiled down at her, His hands immediately finding their way to her hips, pulling her into his embrace. Tucking his head into her neck he breathed in, eliciting a giggle from the woman as she wiggled in his grasp. “You're tickling me, Kyo.” He chuckled, the rumble in his chest shaking their daughter who had begun to fuss, the squeals of joy quickly turning to sorrow. Kyojuro jumped away from his wife, her attention turning to their daughter as he looked on. Pulling her from the sling she had she cooed at her baby, softly bouncing her as she sobbed into her shoulder.

“Kyo” She looked at him as she moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down as she patted Hinata’s back. Kyojuro followed her, slowly seating himself next to his wife. He moved as carefully as he could, looking at his crying daughter's face as she wailed into her mother’s shoulder.

“Can I?” He hesitantly reached for Hinata, eyes looking at his wife for permission. With a smile on her face, she lifted Hinata, Allowing Kyokjuro to wrap his hands around her small body, cradling her in his arms so she was on her back.

“Hinata, My beautiful sun child. I’m sorry I shook you like that, Your mommy is so ticklish around her neck, I'm surprised she lets you lay there” He cooed, leaning closer to her face. “Sweet girl, daddies sorry” He rocked her, swaying back and forth, moving Y/N in the process. As they swayed he hummed a tune his mother would often hum. It had no words, but it always reminded him of the early morning, before the sun was fully in the sky, just poking itself over the horizon. He would be in bed, just waking for the day when his mother walked by, humming to herself as she went to the kitchen, getting ready to start breakfast. Her loud humming followed her to the kitchen, where the notes were accented with her chopping the fruits and vegetables to the beat. The cries quickly turned to hiccups. Hinata's round yellow eyes were still glossy with tears as she stared at her father, his tender gaze as he looked down at her, singing softly. Y/N stared at the two of them in awe, the child's enamored look as she listened to her father's melody, the soft song she had heard him humming as he sat in the gardens early in the morning. Motherhood was such a blessing and being able to witness a moment like this was even better. Chubby hands reached up, grabbing at the air as the song came to an end. Her fingers wrapped around nothing before they dropped back onto the blanket she was swaddled in, gripping onto the fabric.

“She’s so beautiful. I could look at her all day” He looked up at his wife briefly before he looked back at his daughter, a smile gracing his lips as he held her closer to him, snuggling into her.

“She really is something special, huh? From her cute little toes all the way to that golden hair. Kyojuro, I think we made the perfect child. Hinata, my sunshine.” Her mother cooed, running her fingers over the small tufts of blonde hair, smoothing it against her head.

“You know” He started, looking back up to Y/N. “I was scared for you to come today. As much as I wanted to see the two of you, What if it didn’t work? What if I wasn't strong enough to get her to stop crying, I would have left you to do it when you’ve been doing it for so long without help. What if I had no-”

“I’m going to stop you there Kyojuro. Shinobu was telling me how you’ve been healing, how you’ve been working. I wouldn’t let you take Hinata from me if I didn’t think that you could handle it. Also, my flame; look at her, look at you. Take a deep breath before you completely lose it.” She stopped, watching as he inhaled and released it, slowly letting out the breath. “Now. Kyojuro, it's scary, I know. I’ve been trying to figure this out almost entirely on my own, but luckily I had some really good advice and a bit of help. my love, I’m right here, we are going to figure this out together and I promise you right now, we aren’t going to be perfect. But look at her, she’s happy, and that’s all I can ask for. She knows you and she loves you, I love you, so incredibly much. Kyo, I was scared you wouldn’t make it, that once Shinobu took you away from me I wouldn’t be seeing you after that. I need you to be patient with this. You are doing so well already, you quieted her faster than I've been able to since she was born. Hinata and I will spend so much time with you once you are home, none of us will leave that bed until you are healed, I mean it.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his as he let out another long breath. “Everything will be fine my flame, don’t worry one bit. You are doing just fine with her.” Pulling away from her husband to sit on her heels she reached for Hinata, scooping her out of Kyojuro's arms. A small whine left Hinata's lips, her drooping eyes shooting open as she laid against her mother's shoulder. “Lay back against the pillow, I want to show you something” Kyojuro gave Y/N a puzzled look but did as he was told, moving to the head of the bed and laying flat on his back, head propped up on a pillow. Moving around the bed she stood next to Kyojuros still figure she smiled, moving Hinata so she was laying on his chest, her head instantly cuddling into the warmth his chest always radiated, a spot Y/N also liked to lay on. The lack of a shirt or a kimono on most of his chest created room for direct heat, Hinata own personal heated pillow. Kyojuro burst into giggles as his daughter quickly fell asleep against his chest, her quiet breaths becoming less frequent as she drifted to dreamland.

“She just fell asleep like that!?” it was Y/N’s turn to laugh as she climbed over her husband, laying down next to him.

“You are so warm, and she loves the warmth. When I light a fire at night, she always falls asleep so fast when I sit close to it, or when I bundle her in blankets. You are always so warm my flame, she obviously loves it” He chuckled again, running his fingers over the blanket that covered Hinata.

“Two women that like the heat, huh”

#kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro headcanons #slice of life #demon slayer hashira #demon slayer scenarios #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #demon slayer #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x reader #kny rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku

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havin-a-wee · 4 years ago

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Appointment (Doctor's Orders Part 2)

read part 1 here

send me a request here

masterlist

pairing: gynecologist!harry x reader/doctor!harry x reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: the filthiest of filth. like im serious this is basically pure smut.

its finally here! im in love with the way this turned out and i hope you guys are too! i got a few requests for this, and im actually really liking these two characters, so lemme know if you want me to make a series out of this!

Y/N's texts are in italics

Harry's texts are in bold

You felt like a kid in a candy store as you skipped out of the building, being welcomed by a setting sun. You weren’t just skipping out of excitement though, it was also because if you walked normally the shaking of your legs would be extremely noticeable. Luckily, when you arrived you had managed to find a parking spot nearby, so it didn’t take you long to make your way to the small black car that you recently purchased for yourself.

A small noise signaled when you unlocked the car, and you slipped into the driver’s seat quickly, shutting the door as you sat down.

You let yourself slouch, your back hitting the leather seat and a heavy exhale pushing through your flared nostrils. Finally, you had a moment to take in the events that just took place, and the excitement and nervousness flowed through your brain. Luckily, there was no regret swirled in with your feelings, although you were sure there wouldn’t be. Okay, maybe it wasn’t the ideal situation to have your first orgasm, but if this was how Harry would make his way into your life, you couldn’t complain. You closed your eyes and sighed, the post-orgasmic haze you’ve heard so much about finally settling in. In the darkness a smiling face appeared, and you grinned as well at the detailed picture of Harry your mind had concocted.

Suddenly, you sat up with a gasp, gripping the gear shift with your clammy hand. You had just remembered about the small piece of paper sitting in your pocket. The piece of paper with the number of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen written on it. He had told you to text him when he got home, so obviously you had to get home as fast as possible.

Having been driving since you were 16, the motions were second nature, and the only thought you had to put into it was when you were checking to see if there was anyone in the way before you backed out of your parking spot.

Your apartment was only 10 minutes away, and you spent those 10 minutes half paying attention to the road, half thinking about the man that had his fingers inside of you. The thought in itself was causing arousal to pool in your already soiled panties. The expensive lingerie was undoubtedly going to end up in the trash, but you’d rather lose a pair of panties than lose a chance with Harry.

You pulled into your designated spot in the parking garage attached to your apartment building, and ran so quickly to the elevator that you almost tripped on your own feet. Thankfully the silver doors slid open without delay, and you swiftly stepped into the small area. Your manicured finger frantically pushed on the ‘door close’ button. The last thing you needed was someone walking into the elevator with you, seeing your bright red complexion and flushed features. Much to your relief, that didn’t happen, and the elevator lifted you up to the third floor. Objectively, the elevator was incredibly quick. However, in your needy state it felt so slow as if you were riding the shell of a turtle. The loud dinging pulled you back into reality, your mind wandering. You were thinking about what Harry’s hands felt like, and what they would feel like on the parts of your body that he hadn’t gotten to touch.

Yet.

You fumbled with your keys, attempting to grip your phone at the same time. After a bit of struggling, the rigged piece of metal slid into the slot on the doorknob, the door swinging open after you twisted the key. When you tried to remove the key from the lock, it stayed in place, pulling you backwards and almost making you fall.

You smiled at your own clumsiness, not focused enough to allow embarrassment to develop throughout you. Again jiggling the key, it slipped out of the lock and you quickly pushed the door closed using your back. You were left leaning up against the wooden door, flipping your phone screen to face you and sticking your hand in your pocket. You fished around in the small cavity, your fingers locating the small piece of paper that was making you so giddy. You punched the scribbled numbers into your contact app with haste.

Although you wanted to text him more than anything, you reasoned with yourself for a second. Instead of clicking at the keys on your screen, you picked your head up, disconnecting it from the bright touch screen in your hand.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned back to the phone, satisfied with your attempt to calm yourself.

Hi Harry, it’s Y/N.

Instead of immediately going for something sexual, you wanted to start off the conversation normally. Also, there was the fact that you had no idea what he was actually looking for by giving you his number. His response came quicker than you could of ever expected, the typing bubble popping up seconds after the delivered sign appeared underneath your text.

Hi! I’m glad you actually texted me, because honestly I thought you wouldn’t.

Why would you think that? I would have to be pretty shitty to do something like that with you and then ditch.

I promise I don’t think you’re like that, it’s just the whole thing happened it slightly odd circumstances haha

It’s totally okay I get it, but I definitely don’t want that to be the only time something like that happens ;)

You were feeling bold, now sitting on your bed removing the heeled white boots you wore to match your outfit.

I’m glad you feel that way, because I feel the same. Just curious, when exactly would you want to do “something like that” again?

You giggled while reading his text, practically hearing the pauses of shyness that he would take if he said it in person.

As soon as you want to.

I’m sitting in my car right now about to go home, but I could make a pitstop if you asked politely..

Will you please come over and take care of me Daddy?

You cringed as soon as your finger hit the send button. Sexting was definitely not your forte, and in the heat of the moment you had forgotten that you hadn’t indulged in that kink with him the first time.

Who knew you could be so dirty love?

Send me your address. I'll be there asap.

You tapped away at the keys on your phone, sending him your information and you saw that he read it, but didn’t respond, clearly driving to you already.

Your panties were absolutely ruined at this point, and you made the decision to take them off, gliding the lacy white panties down your thighs and calves. When they fell on the floor, you picked your feet up to remove them from the leg holes, leaning over to pick up the panties with your hand. You wanted to show them to Harry, show him how messy he made you.

You clenched your thighs together, your core pulsing like a second heartbeat. A small whine slipped past your lips, and your eyes widened at your own actions. You had never been this aroused or needy in your life, and while these feelings were new, they weren’t scary like a lot of new feelings were for you. It was exciting, and just thinking about Harry rushing over to you because he wanted you so badly was sending fire through your veins. No one had ever wanted you so much, and you have never wanted someone this much. And it’s exhilarating.

After a painfully long time sitting on the edge of your bed anxiously, a loud knock on the door had you standing up in a flash, sauntering over to the door with unnatural speed. Your arousal began to drip down onto your thighs now that you were standing. The slickness between them had them sliding against one another, but the feeling was overshadowed by the rapid beating of your heart. You gripped the doorknob so tightly that your knuckles turned white, twisting your hand and pulling the door open.

“Ello love.”

He stood in the doorway with his hand resting on the top of the doorframe, towering over you. He had that sexy smirk plastered on his face and you ran your eyes up and down his figure, taking in the man before you. He was wearing a black t-shirt, which was loose but tight enough that his pecs were defined in the shirt. He had on a pair of black dress pants which the t-shirt was tucked into. There were tattoos littering his arms, which you hadn’t seen before because of the lab coat he wore during your appointment.

You thought he couldn’t get any hotter than before, but the person in front of you proved you wrong.

“Hi,” you murmured timidly, your boldness from the texting having disappeared. “Come in,” you stepped to the side, opening the door wider so he could step into your apartment. You closed the door, and against your better judgement you turned to the kitchen, trying to find that desperation that had allowed you to throw away all of your anxieties. “Do you want water or something?” You weren’t sure what to say, so you went with the default offer for a drink.

“No.”

You spun around, looking at Harry and tilting your head in confusion.

“I want you.”

He took a long stride forward and placed his large hand on the soft skin of your cheek, leaning in and connecting your lips with his. His lips were as soft as cloud, and you kissed him back with just as much vigor. The kiss was passionate, mixing moans into the drafty air. You sucked his bottom lip and bit down lightly, and a low growl bubbled up from his throat.

Your heart skipped a beat when his tongue swirled around yours. You jumped slightly at the impact of the wall on your back, Harry pushing you into the cold drywall.

Finally pulling away to allow breathing, you and Harry kept your foreheads pressing on each other, leaning some of his weight on you.

“Y’so beautiful darlin, reckon yeh the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

His hot breath hit your face when he breathed, and you were squirming underneath him.

“I could say the same for you,” you huffed out, refusing to break eye contact.

“Thank you baby,” he cooed, placing his veiny hand on your plump cheek and running his thumb across it. The tip of his finger reached your swollen lips, and he pushed his large thumb pass them. You eagerly sucked on the digit, hollowing your cheeks and treating it like you would his cock.

His free hand had found a home on your waist, but he hadn’t moved it since he initiated the kiss, and you were getting frustrated. You reached down and placed your hand atop his, looking up through your eyelashes into his emerald eyes. They’re piercing, and you knew that one stare from him would have any girl on her knees.

The tops of his cold rings touched your fingers when you peeled his hand from its strong grasp and your waist. You were looking at him with innocent doe eyes while you lifted his significantly larger hand and placed it back on your side, but this time at the same level as your breasts. He broke the deep eye contact you were sharing to look down at his hand, slowly shifting it to cup you through your thin tank top.

“M’baby girl is desperate fo me huh?” Harry teased you and you nodded frantically, whimpering in neediness. He pulled his finger from your wet mouth and in a split second he collided his lips with yours once again, but they didn’t remain there for long. He dragged his lips down your jaw, sucking and kissing down your neck. You tilted your head to give him better access, moaning when he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.

His hand that you had moved was pulling and squeezing at your full breast, eventually rucking your tank top up to pinch at your budding nipple underneath. You had removed your bra when you got home, and a small smirk tugged at your face when he moaned at the realization. A sheen of sweat was glistening on his forehead and you lifted your arms straight in the air, giving him permission to remove your top. He pulled it over your head hastily, only breaking the kiss for a moment when the fabric covered your face. You didn’t see what he did with the top, your focus diverted to the feeling of his lower torso. You had removed the hem of his shirt from underneath his pants, only leaving the back part tucked because you couldn’t reach it.

You splayed your hands over his hardened abs, and he snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you closer in response. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, leaving hickey after hickey on the silky skin. He nipped and licked at your skin as if you were a popsicle, sweet and refreshing.

“Daddy, please -- off!” Your moans cut off your words, rendering you unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Y’want me to take my shirt off baby? Such a naughty little minx y’are.”

Despite his teasing, he pulled away from you to grab the bottom of his shirt and ripped it off in one fell swoop.

You barely had time to take in the tattoos on his chest, only being able to identify a large butterfly right in the middle before he looped his arms around your waist. “Jump.” His command was quiet, but you heard it perfectly clear.

You bent your knees and jumped up, his arms following your motions. You lifted your legs and wrapped them around his bare torso. You hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck and sinking your face into his soft brown curls. His hair smelled of expensive shampoo, and you indulged in the sweet scent. “Behind you,” you whispered, directing him to your bedroom.

Without a second of hesitation, he turned around and carried you to the bedroom. You took it upon yourself to place sloppy kisses on his neck, giving him the same hickeys he had given you.

You giggled when he bent over the bed, dropping you from about an inch off the red comforter covering your bed.

“Don’t know why y’laughin’ pet, cause m’about to fuck yeh till yeh can’t walk.” You gasped when the dirty words registered in your head, and he sported a shit-eating grin on his face. His hands grasped your thighs and he ran them up and down, getting dangerously close to your core. You were writhing under his grasp, pleas for him to do something tumbling out of your mouth. “Patience baby.” He didn’t look up at you when he spoke, instead hiking your skirt up to get a look at your sopping cunt. “Look at you, s’wet already and I’ve barely touched you.”

“All for you, only for you Daddy.” Your words were wailed, every muscle in your body aching for a release. He traced his warm fingers along the crease of your thigh, right next to the place you needed him most.

“Gonna let me have a taste baby? Wanna taste yeh so bad.” He finally looked back up at you, but only for a second before his eyes connected with your glistening pussy again.

“N-no.”

Although you greatly wanted him to put his mouth on you, there was one thing you were craving more.

“No?” His demeanor changed immediately, removing his hands from your body and sitting on his knees between your calves. He removed every source of physical contact you were sharing, and you realized that he took your words in a way you hadn’t intended.

“Still want you Daddy, just want something else.” The second part of your sentence was murmured, and you turned your head to face away from him out of embarrassment. Out of your peripheral vision, you could see him raise an eyebrow, placing his hands by your shoulders and returning to his place hovering above you.

“Look at me little girl. Y’sure yeh don’t want me to taste yeh?”

You followed his command after a beat, looking at his disheveled state.

“What do yeh want baby? M’feelin generous today.” He was speaking in pants, his curls sticking to the perspiration-slick surface of his forehead.

“Wanna taste you Daddy. Please lemme-”

You reached down to unbuckle his belt, but he caught your hand before you could.

“Thas’ what this is all about? Such a slut f’me that you’d rather taste me then lemme taste you?” His hand moved to caress your cheek, running his finger across your saliva coated lip.

“Yes, wanna suck you off so bad Daddy.” You pushed out your lip forming an adorable pout, giving him your best puppy eyes and making sure he saw the tears of desperation welling in your lust blown eyes.

“Alright, alright, how do yeh wanna do it baby?” Instead of responding, you grasped the back of his firm thighs, pulling him up towards your face. He got the hint, shifting his knees to sit by your chest. You were now face to face with his very prominent bulge, and your mouth watered at the sight. Even though you wanted to unbuckle his belt yourself, he did it for you, allowing his rock hard erection to spring free after rolling down his boxers.

He stroked himself a few times, and you lifted your head to try and get him in your mouth. He pushed your shoulder down, and made it clear that he wanted to be in control. Finally, after much anticipation he placed his cock on the tip of your tongue, which you had stuck out for him to do exactly that.

You accepted it eagerly, sucking harshing on the tip of his cock. He moaned lowly, tilting his head backwards in ecstasy. You ran your tongue along his sensitive slit, reveling in the filthy noises and expletives that spilled out of his sweet pink lips.

Once you were satisfied with your teasing, you took him in your mouth about halfway, stopping before you gagged. Your hand made its way to the base of his thick shaft, pumping the part of him that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down his cock, your tongue twisting and twirling around his member. You made sure to pay extra attention to his tip, giving it kitten licks when you needed to take a breather. Each time you took him back in your mouth, you pushed yourself further down, this time gagging after pushing him all the way down your throat. He stopped his groans of pleasure to look down at you, and he swore he could cum from just seeing you under him with smeared mascara and teary eyes. “Y’ok baby?” You nodded with him still in your mouth. You stilled for a moment, trying to think of a way to tell him that you wanted him to fuck your mouth. His hand was holding your hair out of your face as a makeshift hair tie, and you decided to tap on the wrist of that hand to give him permission. He looked down at you and raised his eyebrows, a silent gesture to assure you were okay with it. You nodded, his cock moving up and down with your head. He didn’t need any more instructions, pushing your head down on his shaft instantly.

You choked and gagged as he took control, moving your head up and down his thick cock. “Doin’ so well f’me baby, taking m’cock like a good little slut.” His purrs of approval were raspy, moan and gasps chopping his sentence up. Periodically, he pulled you off of him, allowing you to catch your breath before plunging back down on his member again.

The sudden pulsing of his cock inside your mouth was a wordless praise, and you were incredibly proud that you were able to bring him to his orgasm as quickly as you did.

He pulled you off of him again, and you heaved a few times as you filled your lungs back up with oxygen. But unlike before, he didn’t bring you back onto his cock, even pulling you back when you attempted to put him back in your mouth yourself. You cried out when he repositioned himself between your legs, back in the place he was when you were first on the bed.

All you wanted to do was finish him off, but he wouldn’t let you for a reason that was unknown to you.

“Daddy!” You were about to beg and whine to finish him off but his index finger on your lips kept you from your begging.

“As much as I’d love t’watch yeh swallow m’cum, I need t’feel this gorgeous cunt of yours.”

You quivered when the bands of his icy cold rings gripped the warm, supple flesh of your inner thighs. They dug into your skin, sending a pleasurable tingling sensation throughout your body, landing in your core.

If you were horny before, there wasn’t even a word to describe how utterly turned on you were now.

Your skirt was already hiked up from before, but Harry wanted it off fully. He ran his fingers across the waistband, finally finding the zipper and unzipping it faster than you could blink. “Bloody hell baby,” he grunted, taking a moment to admire your fully naked body squirming under him, begging for him to touch you. He wished he had a camera to capture you in this state, only thinking about one thing, him.

He stood up, his feet barely hitting the floor before he yanked his pants and boxers off. He was huge, and you stared at his prick in awe, even though you’ve been looking at it. His size was truly difficult to take in, because usually a big cock is either long or thick, not both. But Harry was both and some, and you were convinced that you would be content sucking on it for the rest of your life.

Distracted by your own dirty thoughts, you weren’t paying attention to what Harry was doing, only being shocked out of your haze when he ran two of his fingers across your sticky folds. He pulled his fingers away as your body jolted, surprised by the sudden contact. Strings of your arousal connected your cunt to his fingers, and he cursed under his breath. His fingers were covered in your juices and he stuck the digits in his mouth, sucking happily when he finally got to taste your sweet, sweet nectar.

He hummed constantly when he took the fingers out of his mouth. “Taste even sweeter than I imagined, baby. Could eat y’up all day long.”

You mewled and kicked your legs, tired of all of the teasing. “Daddy... just want you inside me!” He hushed you and reassured you that he would take care of you, leaning over your body and positioning himself on top of you. He lined himself up with you, his tip bumping your puffy clit. You whimpered and Harry took the message, finally pushing his rock hard cock into your soaking wet core.

“Fuck -- Daddy you’re s-so big,” you whined. He tilted forward, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

It took a minute for him to bottom out, Harry pushing in slowly to minimize the sting. There was a bit of pain as your body conformed to fit him inside of your tight little hole.

“Fuck baby, y’so fucking tight, might come just from this.” He had a silly smile on his face, but you both knew there was no joke laced between his words. He latched his darkened lips on an indent by your collar bone, nipping and licking on the skin while he waited for the approval to move.

“Move. Please move.”

The first thrust was hard and fast, he pulled almost fully out of you and then slammed him hips back up into you.

“Shit!”

Just like when you had him in your mouth, you could feel the thick veins running along his sizable shaft. He repeated the same type of movement for the next few thrusts, pounding into you and drawing back out over and over.

“So,” “Fuckin,” “Beautiful,”

Each of his words preceded a snapping of his hips, slamming into you particularly hard after calling you beautiful.

“Feels- feels so good, so good Daddy.” You were sobbing with pleasure. His thick cock filled you up so good it was like he was made for you.

“Didn’t even think it was possible f’someone t’be this tight baby. You’re takin’ meh so well sweet girl, so so well.” He found a rhythm, snapping his hips into yours, your velvety walls engulfing his cock perfectly. Watching himself disappear inside your tight hole egged Harry on even more, as well as the noises that your juices made when he rammed himself inside your pretty little cunt. His thumb was pressed against your clit, circling the overly sensitive bundle of nerves. Pleasure was coursing through your veins, the firey burning feeling better than anything you had ever felt before.

Your hands were spread across his back, nails digging crescent shaped divots into the skin. Each time your fingers dug into the expanse of his back he growled, so you did it after each thrust. His lips were everywhere, kissing and licking all of the exposed skin that he could reach.

“Daddy..”

He took your pebbled nibble into his mouth, unable to resist after watching your tits bounce when he pushed himself in and out of you.

“So good baby, s’like y’were made fo me,” he cooed, your reply dying in your throat when he pressed his lips to yours.

You bit each other’s lips and swirled tongues like you had done at the beginning of the night. After a minute of rough kisses, he pulled away, and you both gasped for air. You could tell his thrusts were getting sloppier, and his cock twitched inside of you like it had when you took him in your mouth.

“Was made for you, just you.”

“Thas’ my good girl.”

His hand instinctively reached for your throat, and you watched his cheek heat up when he realized what he had done. But you grabbed his hand and placed it back on your throat. “Please,” you croaked out, desperate for him to choke you and make you see stars.

He smirked and obliged, pressing on the sides of your throat but avoiding your windpipe. Euphoria overtook your body at the new found sensation and the knot that had formed in your stomach was threatening to come loose. The tightness in your stomach translated to your center, and you clenched tightly around Harry.

“Y’gonna come? Can feel y’squeezin me love, lets come together yeah?” You gave him a tiny nod of agreement, too weak from your impending orgasm to give him a better response. “Let go f’me baby.”

The knot in your stomach uncoiled rapidly, bursting inside of you and sending shudders throughout every inch of your body. Seconds later Harry released inside of you, his hot ropes of cum painting your walls. Your eyesight got blurry and white spots clouded your vision as Harry worked you both through your climaxes. You thought the orgasm he gave you at your appointment was strong, but this one sent you to another plane of reality.

His movements slowed and he removed his thumb from your swollen button, which you were thankful for due to your hypersensitivity.

When you finally came back to reality, Harry was above you, pulling himself out of you. You placed your hand on his cheek, diverting his green eyes to look at yours. “Stay in, please?” He simply nodded, pushing back into you fully. He was already hardening again, but who could blame him? Your face alone was enough to get him rock hard and leaking precome.

He rolled you two to your sides, cuddling into each other’s bare chests. You shared no more words, both of you drifting off to a blissful sleep within minutes. But you didn’t need to ask him to know that this was the first time you slept together, but most definitely not the last.

#harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fic rec #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #smut #harry styles one shot #one direction #fine line

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sunfleurry · 4 years ago

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II. Soie et Satin

Part 1

Thank you for the lovely feedback on part 1 of modern prince!Harry <33

NOTE: I decided to give my MC a name (which I also edited into part 1). I hope you enjoy Rose and Harry’s story!!!! this part is not edited oops

***

Harry was on TV and he looked like a star. Rose watched him from the comfort of her living room while she sipped her morning coffee.

It was a live broadcast showing his arrival to the event with his family including the queen, his mother. She was an intimidatingly beautiful woman who gained the respect of the entire country, if not the entire world throughout her life. She was known to be strict on tradition, but she’d done so much for the country when it came to helping the less fortunate, advocating for global health, and supporting free education for everyone.

Now that she was older and had quite a few children, she passed on some of her duties to them. They, including Harry, followed in her footsteps, looking out for the population by supporting the same causes their mother dedicated her life to as a young woman. Their role was to represent the queen, and they did so flawlessly.

Rose didn’t want to admit that she’d googled Harry the day he sent flowers to her office, but she did, and she was reminded of the fact that Harry was heir to the throne. She never cared much for learning about the royal family and this was something everyone knew, but reading it after meeting him was like a big wake-up call. She’d danced with a man who would one day become king. She tried not to let herself think about it too much, or else she knew her thoughts would spiral out of control.

Harry and his brother wore a simple black suit, a change from his usual style, and his mother and sisters were donned in modest dresses she knew were designer and likely cost the same as her home.

Men with flashing cameras were going crazy behind the gates, desperately trying to get the perfect shot of the country’s “perfect” family.

Upon seeing the paparazzi, Rose was instantly reminded of how lucky she and Harry were to not have been caught by anyone when they went out. She quickly picked up her phone and googled Harry’s name and filtered the results to hours before the charity event just to be sure. She sighed in relief when there were no photos or stories of the both of them.

She relaxed into her sofa and fixed her eyes on the television, watching the rest of the event, subconsciously smiling every time Harry’s handsome face popped up on the screen.

***

Three days later at work, Rose received a text from Harry. What are you doing tonight?

She quickly replied, I have a date with a really hot guy I met a while back.

She barely put her phone down before it pinged with another message. What? Who is he? Tell him you’re busy.

She grinned. I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Did I mention he’s a prince?

Her phone vibrated with a call, Harry’s name in block letters at the top of the screen. She accepted the call and brought it up to her ear. “Hello?”

“You’re not funny.”

She barked out a laugh, then winced and apologized to her coworkers whose desks were adjacent to hers. “I think I am.”

She heard him huff through the line then say, “Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Where do you want to take me?” She asked, tamping down her giddiness. It had only been less than a week since she’d last seen him, but she missed him.

“I thought we could take a walk on the beach, maybe have some ice cream?”

“How romantic of you,” she teased.

She could almost see his eyes rolling. “Are you in? I haven’t been able to go out in public since that morning charity.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Normally after making such a public appearance, we’re encouraged to stay low-key for a couple days. Something about the media being on high alert.”

Suddenly remembering the thoughts she had the morning she watched him on TV, she instantly knew what he meant. Rose worried her lip between her teeth as she tried to form the words to articulate the worry that had been building up since that day.

“Harry, will there be people following us?” She closed her eyes, hoping she didn’t sound stupid.

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke up. “You know what, change of plans. Wear something comfortable.”

“Oh,” she ran a hand through her hair and sat back in her chair. “Okay.”

“I can’t wait to see you, Rose.”

She smiled. “You too,” she whispered.

***

Harry said to wear something comfortable, so she slipped on the most comfortable outfit she owned: A pair of joggers and matching crewneck. He’d only ever seen her dressed up, she figured she would let herself look more casual for once. Her doorbell rang just as she was slipping on a pair of Nikes. Reaching over, she opened the door to reveal a nervous-looking Harry standing with his car key in hand.

“Hi,” he said, a smile breaking onto his face at the sight of her then pulling her in for a hug.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in the cologne she absolutely loved.

“You look lovely,” he said as he pulled back to take a look at her.

She couldn’t resist kissing his cheek. “Please, I’m wearing glorified pyjamas.”

He looked down at his own pair of joggers and t-shirt. “I’d say you understood the assignment.”

She laughed as she followed him to his flashy car. It wasn’t the same one he picked her up in on their previous date, but just as nice.

Less than a half hour later, Harry had driven them to the middle of the city and into an underground parking garage of a large high-rise building. One of the tallest she’d ever seen in person. It had a modern design, the surface covered in mirrored windows. He drove through the garage until the car reached a closed door. He inched the car closer until the sensor detected it and opened the door, allowing the car to enter a smaller parking area containing two other cars, one of them Rose recognized as the one she’d been in on their last date.

“Do you live here?” She asked, taken aback.

“Yes,” he smiled nervously. “This is my private parking.”

“I can see that,” she frowned. “I thought you lived with your family, at the palace.”

“You and everyone else in the world,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You don’t?”

He unbuckled his seat belt, and pocketed his key before turning towards her. “I come from a not so traditional family, but I need my own space despite the responsibilities that are expected of me. I’m a man in my twenties who values his privacy so I moved out when I was nineteen. Under a fake name.”

She was shocked by the revelation, even more by the fact that he was trusting her with his information.

“Nobody knows you live here?”

“I mean, the other residents do, but they’re under contract.”

“And your family?”

“Of course they know where I live,” he chuckled. “They just don’t come here. They don’t want to risk being seen here because they respect my space, they want to make sure I have all the privacy I can get away from the public eye, because, well, one day I won’t have that luxury.”

Rose deflated at the reminder of what his future entailed. “Do you ever think about it? Being heir and all?”

Harry looked down at his lap, picking an invisible thread on his pants. “Let’s go inside,” he said at last.

Taking the hint, Rose smiled and opened her door, Harry doing the same. He scanned a card inside the elevator and keyed in a code on the keypad. The lift immediately started rising, only halting when it reached the final floor of the building.

Nothing could have prepared Rose for the extravagance that would welcome her as soon as the doors opened. An entire wall was made up of giant windows, overlooking the bustling city underneath. They were so high up, she couldn't hear any of it. Instead, the height provided a peaceful silence in an otherwise busy area. The flooring was marble, the luxury kind one would only see on TV, and the place was spotless.

Harry’s warm hand on the small of her back urged her to walk inside, the elevator doors closing behind them. She took in the open concept penthouse, a staircase in the corner of the grand living room leading to what she assumed was his private corner, the bedroom and bath.

“Holy shit,” she breathed.

Harry laughed behind her, before grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen she knew even Gordon Ramsay would drool over. “Would you like something to drink?”

Snapping herself out of her dumfounded state, she looked at him. “What?”

He suppressed a smile and repeated, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh! Um, yes please,” she said, wringing her fingers together.

“Relax, Rose.”

“How could I?” She asked, eyes wide. “I feel like I’ll break something just by looking at it!”

“That’s fine, love. I want you to be comfortable.”

“But this place—”

“Is my home,” he interrupted, stepping closer and gently grabbing her shoulders. “And I made the choice to trust you with my secret, so please, make yourself comfortable.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”He leaned forward to capture her lips with his, and she melted into him without hesitation. She’d been wanting to do this since their first kiss and the wait was definitely worth it.

He pulled back with a grin, leaving her breathless. “So, drink?”

She nodded, exhaling as an attempt to calm her beating heart.

“I also made us dinner, I just need to put it in the oven.”

The statement made her heart swell, a feeling of fondness for the man in front of her taking over. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, as he pushed a few buttons on the oven until a yellow light started flashing and the desired temperature was displayed. “Can’t bring you here and not feed you.”

She chuckled and pulled out a stool tucked into the island to sit on. “No you can’t.”

***

The food would take an hour, so the two decided to go to his living room to wait. They were cuddled up on his couch, watching a movie she’d chosen and that he’d seen a dozen times. Rose didn’t know that though.

“Do you ever worry people will recognize you?” She asked, out of the blue. “When we went out together, you seemed unfazed by the looks some were giving you.”

He shrugged. “I get used to it, really. Besides, Fen is always around in case something happens.”

She pushed off the couch to look at him. “Fen?”

“My security detail,” he nodded. “He’s always around when I’m out and about.”

“But, I didn’t see him the other night. Or the first time we went out together.”

He grinned. “That means he’s doing his job.”

She frowned as she slowly tucked herself back into his side. His arm automatically wrapped around her. “So, we were being followed all night?”

“It’s for safety purposes, Rose. Plus, I would never intentionally put you in danger.”

“What could possibly be so dangerous?”

Harry ducked to press a kiss to her head, breathing in the shampoo scent that coated her red strands. “Anything could be dangerous, even the paparazzi.”

The thought of being followed by paparazzi sent shivers down her spine. She’d seen videos of celebrities being hounded by them and felt sorry for the public figures who had to live with that.

“What if they see us together. Would they publish photos? Are you scared of what they may think?”

“Are you ashamed of me, Rose?”

She craned her neck to kiss him softly. “I would never be ashamed of you, Your Highness.”

“I knew it!” He cried, dramatically pushing her away. “You’re just using me for my title!”

“How did you know?” She gasped, trying to hold in a smile.

“I’ve always felt something was off with you,” he tutted, leaning his back on the arm rest and pulling her on top of him.

She giggled, raising her hand to run her fingers through his hair before smoothing it down. “Why is that?” She whispered.

“There’s no way someone as beautiful as you would give me the time of day,” he murmured, brushing his lips on the corner of her mouth.

She pulled him in to give her a proper kiss, their legs tangling as he switched positions until he was hovering on top of her, forearms caging her head against the sofa.

“If anything, you’re out of my league, Prince.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. He pulled back. “Don’t ever say that,” he frowned.

“It’s true—“

He kissed her again. “Who I am... What I come from... Means nothing between you and me.”

She stared at him intently, the conversation taking an unexpected turn.

“Do you hear me?” He murmured, brushing his lips along her cheek.

She nodded.

He sighed. “Good.”

Rose gasped when Harry’s mouth was suddenly on hers, instantly brushing her tongue against his in what could be the best kiss she’d ever had. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down to feel his comforting weight on top of her. The kiss morphed into something wetter as his hands trailed along her side and dipped under her shirt. She shivered from the contact, bending her knees to cage his body between her legs. Harry brushed his lips against her jaw before slowly making his way down her throat to the fabric of her top covering her chest. His hands inched along her skin to her back where he applied pressure, making her arch, chest pressing against his own.

“Harry,” she breathed as he pressed open mouthed kisses up her throat, leaving a wet trail.

He hummed in response before coming back up to connect their lips. She sighed into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as his hands trailed back to caress her sides. “Can I take this off?” He breathed, fingering the hem of her shirt.

She nodded against his neck, where she tongued at his skin, savouring the feeling of just being so close to him. He pulled her shirt up but before he could take it off completely, his phone rang, the shrill ringtone breaking through their bubble.

Harry scrambled to get off the couch, recognizing the ringtone, while Rose fought to catch her breath, mourning the feeling of his weight on her.

Harry excused himself and left the room to speak to whoever it was while Rose readjusted her top and sat up. She decided to braid her hair while waiting for him to finish.

Just as she was tying up her hair, she heard his footsteps before he appeared with a grim look on his face. He tossed his phone on the coffee table.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he smiled but she didn’t buy it.

She tucked her legs under her and extended a hand towards him.

Harry accepted it and she tugged him over to sit next to her. He complied and slumped back, neck resting on the back of the couch.

“It’s just PR stuff. You don’t need to worry about it,” he said, eyes never leaving the ceiling.

She felt her heart sink to her stomach. “What kind of PR stuff?”

Before he could answer, she jumped at a sudden beeping coming from the kitchen.

He chuckled half-heartedly as she held a hand up to her chest. “It’s just the oven, love. Come on, food’s ready.”

“But what about—“

He kissed her. “I’m hungry.”

She pouted but decided to drop it, not wanting the mood to be ruined.

***

Rose placed her fork on her empty plate and got up to make her way to the sink. “How did you learn to cook like that?” She turned on the water and waited for it to turn hot before rinsing her plate. She reached for the sponge and squirted soap on it, intending to wash all the dishes.

Harry walked up behind her and slid a hand around her waist, splaying his hand on her stomach and pulling her back against him. “My mother,” he said before reaching over and turning off the water.

“Hey!” She went to turn it back on but he wrapped a hand around the tap, preventing her from moving it. “Harry…” She warned.

“Rose…”

She turned around and crossed her arms, ignoring the way her body reacted to his proximity.

He laughed, and pried the wet sponge out of her hand, then pushed her out of the way to rinse it and put it back in place.

Rose scowled. “Let me do this for you.”

“No, I have a dishwasher that could do that for me. I want to spend time with you, not watch you wash my shit.”

“You do so much for me, Harry. Let me wash your shit.”

“I can wash my own shit.”

“Okay, this is getting gross.”

Harry giggled and kissed her cheek before walking over to his fridge. She took the time to wash her hands and dry them before turning around to ask if he needed help with whatever it was he was doing.

She was met with the sight of him standing next to the kitchen island, a delicious-looking chocolate cake on it with two small forks.

Harry chuckled at the way her eyes lit up, knowing her love for chocolate was the way to her heart.

“I was too shy to ask if you had something sweet to follow up with dinner,” she admitted sheepishly, biting her bottom lip as she sat on the stool while he did the same across from her.

His smile widened, handing her a fork. “I would never forget.”

She blushed and followed his lead by taking the first bite of the cake. “Oh my God,” she moaned. “Is this André’s?”

Harry looked at her, horrified. “Don’t ever say another man’s name after moaning like that.”

She snorted, taking another bite of the delicious cake.

“Yes,” Harry said finally, expression morphing into one of amusement as he watched her devour her half of the dessert. “He did make it. Something about giving the lovely lady a real treat.”

Rose laughed at the way he mocked André’s accent, and pushed the plate towards him to finish the cake. “I can’t take another bite,” she groaned.

***

Rose awoke to the sound of faint chattering. She didn’t remember when she fell asleep but once she was aware enough to take in her surroundings, she realized she was still in Harry’s penthouse, curled up on his couch under a warm blanket. A warm feeling engulfed her when she realized Harry had tucked her in.

“Fuck you, I can do whatever I want.”

She frowned, knuckling her eye to try and wake herself up as she heard Harry start pacing, wherever he was.

“I know, I know, she’s been telling me the same thing all week.”

“Harry?” She called out. He didn’t hear her.

“If I hear you call her that one more time, you’re fired.”

“Harry,” she called again, louder. His pacing stopped and a second later, he appeared from around the corner, phone up to his ear.

“Rose,” he sighed, then scowled at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yes, now don’t call me back.” He locked his phone and gave her his attention once again. “Sorry about that.”

She smiled sleepily and reached over to caress his face. He breathed out and knelt on the ground to come face to face with her. Her fingers wound in the short hairs at the nape of his neck and he exhaled, dropping his forehead to her collarbone. “Sometimes I hate being me.”

“Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and a laugh bubbled out of her, unwillingly. He snapped his head up. “What’s so funny?”

“Tickled me,” she mumbled.

He snorted then got up, asking her to move over before laying down next to her and pulling her to his side.

“You seemed angry,” she said gently.

She could feel him tense under her. “My mother was just pissed at me, had my publicist relay a message.”

“Did you do anything?”

Harry looked into her warm brown eyes, his own glinting with mischief. “When am I not?”

Rose giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. She could feel herself being pulled back into unconsciousness, and as much as she tried to fight it, she couldn't. She wanted to stay awake for him, to comfort him further but exhaustion suddenly washed over her. Before being completely lost to the world, she could’ve sworn she heard him murmur, “I won’t let anything come between us.”

***

THANK YOU FOR READING <3333 lmk if you’d like to be tagged !!!

Tag list: @mellamolayla

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles story #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles series #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #one direction imagine

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jjuzoir · 4 years ago

Text

Random Kageyama Tobio HCS

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: just... me being in love with a m*n other than masumi 😔 also! these are my headcanons as in,,, what i personally i think he’d be like ‼️ also me projecting my ideal man into him (as if he wasn’t it already 😋)

A/N: i... i love tobio so much it’s literally unreal... i couldn’t wait for a request (i’m still working on the remaining 4 too lolol) so take me projecting my love for tobio >:(

— Kageyama normally wears loose fitting clothes or athletic-style clothing. His favorite go to outfits tends to be a loose tee, some loose pants with an obnoxious Nike logo he swears are super cool but look like two garbage bags sewed together, and running shoes. Throw a hoodie in there for colder weather, even then he still manages to look good.

— He takes very good care of his hair, like freaky good care, because of Miwa. Once she enrolled in cosmetology school and she saw Kageyama use the same baby shampoo from when they were kids she freaked out (if she’d been any later he’d start using 3-in-1) and chewed his ear off about hair care. His hair is super shiny and there’s literally no freeze, he uses nice smelling shampoo and conditioner too. Ugh, I love him.

— He has a very sensitive nose but it gets clogged easily so he doesn’t notice much unless it miraculously unclogs itself and he’s complaining about everything.

— “Eh! Hinata, why’d you smell like a fucking axe bottle?!” “Why does no one say anything about Tsukishima smelling like strawberries?” “Yamaguchi smells like... milk.” “Hah?! Sugawara smells bad-?!”

— He says he’s a picky eater to appear cool but as long as you don’t say what’s in the food he’ll down it. He’ll say he doesn’t like carrots but if you give him a salad with carrots he might even say “it’s the best salad he’s ever had”.

— He’s a hot sleeper, and not in the “oh he’s sexy” type of way. I’m talking, he’ll sweat buckets if he sleeps with anything other than a flimsy white t-shirt and his underwear.

— Might be me projecting my love for bunny teeth but he has bunny teeth, his front teeth are a bit bigger than average (not to the point it’s super noticeable but it’s still something Miwa teased him about), his aunties probably squeezed his cheeks and called him “baby bunny” when he was younger.

— He doesn’t go to sleep later than 9PM, he thinks if he does it’ll ruin his schedule (which it will) and fuck up his body - he’s seen Miwa screw up hers after she pulled a bunch of all nighters in her third year in high school and has been afraid since.

— The type to forget people were coming over and come out of his room shirtless asking for his clean underwear.

— His sister forced him to let her cut and style his hair which led to many questionable hairstyles. Tsukishima is genuinely so grateful to Miwa, especially when she was first starting - he’s got some pictures of Tobio with the shortest most embarrassing bangs ever saved in his phone in a file for blackmail if the need for it ever presented itself.

— Likes pissing people off on purpose sometimes, during one of the training camps he probably walked into the bath with socks on and was made fun of but out of spite he just… never took them off. Said he’d done it on purpose and all too. Tanaka cried out of fear for like a hot minute when he saw him standing under the shower with Iron Man socks on.

— He’s so petty too, if you make fun of him for messing up he’ll remember until you embarrass yourself to make fun of you. And when I say he remembers, I mean it - he can’t for his life remember when to use make and do in english but he remembers when Hinata made fun of him for wearing different socks back on their first year and yes he will bring it up on their second year when he did the same thing what are you going to do about it?

— Probably got scouted for a modeling agency once and began running away because he thought they were trying to kidnap him.

— If he had Tiktok… he would’ve gone viral after posting a video of him practicing, he posted for a while for fun and to flex on people that he was hot but then he saw a comment saying they wanted to drink his milk under a video of him drinking milk and he deleted his account, he can’t buy from that brand for a while.

— He’s got a video of a gorilla walking in two legs saved on his phone for when he’s feeling down and watches it whenever he’s not going well. People think he’s texting his S/O but no, he’s just watching a gorilla walk like minecraft Steve.

— He can’t pose for pictures to save his life, his default pose is an NPC stance with his arms stiffly hanging down and his eyes wide in surprise, don’t ask him to smile or else he will look like a serial killer.

— He’s got a bit of baby fat on his cheeks that won’t disappear no matter what. It’s become a pre-game ritual to pinch his cheeks. He’s also got dimples you can really only see when he smiles naturally but he doesn’t know and he’d get shy if he knew and try covering his face so don’t tell him, that’s a fact he told me so himself.

— Cannot dance to save his life. He’s so long (?) his limb control is non-existent, it appears in game and vanishes when he steps out of the court. He really just bounces on his heels and moves his arms like a t-rex, don’t ask more of him.

— Buys his clothes one size bigger just in case and Miwa teases him saying he’ll need them when he gets old and fat.

— Gets asked out often but always rejects, then has the audacity to complain he’s never dated anyone like he hasn’t turned down half of the school's population.

— Can’t sing. He’s got a nice speaking voice but ask him to sing and he’s out of tone, out of sync, out of breath, and out of the room in 5 seconds.

— Sugawara joked about having him singing as his alarm clock and Kageyama actually believed him, probably sent him a new recording as a gift after he annoyed him during practice.

— Surprisingly funny when he wants to but most jokes fly over people’s heads since he seems so serious most of the time, it annoys him to no end. Yachi still struggles differentiating when he is and isn’t joking because his tone literally doesn’t change at all and she doesn’t want to offend him.

— When he was younger he liked to collect rocks, not even the pretty ones he’d pick the most average, raggedy rocks off the ground and clean them up and tuck them to bed because he saw Miwa play with her barbies like that. Still owns his first rock, he named it “Johnson” after Dwayne Johnson, aka the rock (he’s had to explain it so many times he’s exhausted).

— Accidentally drank expired milk once and didn’t notice until his stomach began hurting and he thought he became lactose intolerant and he was inconsolable for days until he realized it had expired like a month ago - he went on a milk shopping spree and the milk sales that week saw a 20% rise from the last few months.

— Tobio had bad handwriting until he was in Junior High because his teachers couldn’t understand him and had him practice calligraphy, his handwriting is now one of the prettiest ones in the team and he’s the official inker of the VBC posters (as designated by Goddess Yachi Hitoka herself).

— His biggest fear for a long time was getting eaten by piranhas because he saw it happen so often in cartoon shows he genuinely thought it was going to be a bigger deal than it turned out to be but for like a solid 6 years of his life he avoided suspicions puddles just in case.

— Kageyama has a habit of rolling and unrolling his sleeves when he’s deep in thought, it soon made way to a habit of checking his wrist watch (he absolutely has a wrist watch, you cannot change my mind on that) but not actually reading it.

— His nails are very pretty, like most setters, he takes very good care of them. They’re filed down to a perfect length and he puts oils and creams, his hands in general are so nice. He takes a lot of pride in them, you know his cuticles are pushed back and trimmed and he could absolutely be a hand model. Kags’ hands are calloused, he’s a volleyball player of course they are, but it’s not to the extent of Ushijima or Daichi’s hands.

— Talking about hands, it’s probably one of his favorite features on people. He loves holding hands with his S/O and tracing the wrinkles in their palm, being able to interlock fingers with them and feel the bumps in them.

— Mumbles to himself when in thought too! Very nonsensical if you’re not informed on what he’s thinking about, if he’s thinking about you he’ll mumble your name or something like “pretty eyes”.

— Has a very healthy diet, like extremely healthy and thought out. He won’t eat anything too sugary or that could throw off his body, but he does have cheat days (which are rare but exist). He also doesn’t drink much soda or alcohol (once he’s of age).

— Things like smoking are a big no, he takes so much care of his body he wouldn’t even touch a cigarette or be near a smoking area, lowkey paranoid of ingesting the smoke too.

— When he’s older I can see him having a dog and a cat, the dog would be a big dog; if they stood on two paws it’d be the same height as you, he’d name or something like Tobias and think he was super clever and funny, the cat would probably a small cat he’d name Milk (it probably would be a black cat too but he does not care).

— Probably tried baby formula because he heard it was a substitute for breast milk. No further comments on this.

— I feel like he doesn’t listen to music, but if he had to choose something he’d pick instrumental music - not orchestral music or anything like that - but more of a chill, no deep meaning just guitar and piano track. I could see him listening to Shego Sekito or Joe Hisashi on occasion, he might even listen to some 2000’s pop if he wants something to pump him up during training (he works out to Brittney Spears’ “Womanizer”).

— A cuddle-bug when he’s sleepy, he’ll throw himself across his S/O and not move at all, he just wants to stay there and not move ever again (or at least until he’s not feeling like passing out). He’ll like to wrap himself around them and cuddle their neck, he’ll attach himself to their arm like it’s a lifeline.

— In other words, Kageyama Tobio… b-boyfriend material.

#—🎀 haikyuu!#kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #haikyuu x reader #tobio x reader #hq #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hc #hq fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #kageyama headcanons #hq x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x you #—✒️ sora’s scripts

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m88n · 4 years ago

Text

[9.01 pm] - when johnny suh makes for an unexpected companion after you got stood up in a valentine’s day date

►listen to ‘dance by offonoff if you’re in a bar’

You’re clad in your favorite black dress that hugs your curves in all the right places, adorned with precious silver jewellery and a pair of black stilettos, complete with a soft glam look with glossy lips that glimmer in the low lights of the hotel bar. You made sure to look your best tonight, yet finding yourself sitting defeatedly on one of the bar stools, with your leather handbag limply perched on the table surface. You rest your elbows, delicately cupping your own cheeks while sighing softly to yourself.

Noticing your movements, a bartender slowly makes his way towards you after attending to the other patrons in the relatively empty bar. This doesn’t come as a surprise, as this particular bar venue would not be accessible to many, due to the nature of its pricing and overall exclusivity. That would also be the reason why you made sure to dress up really well in the first place.

“What can I get you, miss?” He asks politely as he continues wiping glasses behind the counter with a washcloth.

“Two shots of absinthe, please.” You sighed out.

Although the bartender exercises an unsurprised look given your response, you could sense that he’d be a little concerned with your drink of choice given its strength. But before he could interject, you feel a slight movement occupying the empty spot next to yours.

“What’s a beautiful lady doing taking solo absinthe shots during the night of Valentine’s Day?” The stranger asks after settling in his seat. You fixate your eyes on the soft glow of the bar lights reflected on the surfaces of the liquor bottles, not even bothering to take a look at the man now seated beside you. A stranger trying to butt his way into your business would normally bother you, but tonight, it really seems like you really couldn’t care less about anything, anymore.

“She’ll have a blue lagoon. I’ll have the standard whiskey on the rocks.” He promptly says to the bartender.

You finally bring yourself to turn your head to take a look at this stranger, and you’d be lying if you said the sight you’ve been presented with fails to take your breath away. This man dons a crisp black vest and pants combination, elongating his already striking body proportions, with a black tie neatly tucked against the fitted white shirt he wears beneath his vest. His locks lush; slightly long, dark brown—slicked back accentuating his high cheekbones and prominent jawline. You don’t fail to notice this man wearing a pair of black leather loafers to complete his entire polished ensemble. He looks nothing short than a million dollars—yet somehow doing so without appearing loud and gaudy. You won’t even disagree if someone were to say that he’d be sophistication and refined personified.

“Oh, apologies miss for my interruption, my name’s John.” He chuckles, putting his hand in between you two. “My friends sometimes call me Johnny, but whatever works for you.”

You snap yourself out of your daze and gingerly takes the hand that’s been offered to you. You notice that his hand is warm against your own, almost as if thawing the emptiness you’ve surrendered yourself to. His grip is gentle, yet firm, as he shakes your hands to solidify your acknowledgements of each other.

“..I’m y/n.” You finally say, meeting his gaze.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” He says as he maintains deep eye contact with you, not forgetting to wear an inviting smile, drawing you in even further into his charms.

“I promise you, you’ll love the drink I got you.” He grins, faint whiskers forming on his cheeks as he leans against the bar table.

“What, do all the girls you approach in a bar seem to like it too?” You scoff, reminding yourself to put your guard up against an attractive man that approaches you out of nowhere.

He hums to himself, then simply pulls a smirk.

“You could call me a connoisseur in these kinda things,” He says, cocking his eyebrows.

You let out a chuckle in response. “Sure, let’s see what you’ve got then. Even if you didn’t really answer what I asked.”

“There we go,” He smiles to himself as he takes a look at you, leaning against his hand that’s been resting on the table.

“…What?” You ask.

“Your smile’s so pretty, and I finally get to see what it looks like.” He answers simply.

You scoff in utter disbelief, yet unable to suppress the smile trying to break through your reserves.

“What, have you been looking at me from afar or something, Mr. John Doe?” You tease.

“What if I said yes, would you believe me?” He asks with half lidded eyes and a slight smile, not letting you up.

“Whiskey on the rocks, and a blue lagoon for the lady.” The bartender says as he places your drinks in front of you, finally directing your attention elsewhere other than Johnny’s pair of eyes.

“Thanks, man.” Johnny says.

“No problem, Mr. Suh.” The bartender responds.

“You come here often?” You ask him after a beat of hesitation. If he does, then you conclude that he has to be a man of at least considerable status, fame, or power. If he does, then it makes you wonder all the more as to why he chooses to approach you and perhaps, keep you company.

“I do, sometimes. I like it here since it doesn’t get crowded much.” He answers simply. “You cold? I have a puffy jacket you could wear on top.” He continues as he carelessly grabs a black coat that’s been sitting on the table beside him. It wouldn’t take a genius to notice that the coat he’s offering you at the moment is in fact, a designer puffer coat. Not that you’d be surprised at this point.

“No, I’m good. Thanks, John.” You smile at him. You feel yourself clamming up a little due to the thought process you’ve had earlier.

“Okay then, suit yourself,” He says in a sing-song voice, shrugging his shoulders. He briefly gets up from his seat to place his coat on the table surface next to your seat, before quickly returning to his seat. “It’s there if you need it.”

Your smile grows wider, and maybe, a lot more genuine as you notice the sincerity in his gesture.

“Thanks, John.”

“Alright, let’s drink up,” He says, before swiftly unbuttoning his cuffs then rolling his sleeves up—and you can’t help but to notice his toned biceps. You try your best not to gawk, but you can’t lie, you feel a little weak in the knees at the sight.

“Like what you see?” He says as he slicks back some loose strands of his hair.

“….Haha, what a sleazeball,” You say, chuckling nervously to yourself.

“Sure thing baby,” He says, lifting his glass of whiskey on the rocks, “Let’s cheers,”

You feel your face heat up, your lips threatening to break into a wide smile, as you palm your forehead in an attempt to center yourself. You finally take your glass of blue lagoon to meet his cheers.

“Too much?” He asks, examining your reactions.

You clink your glasses.

“Don’t worry about it.” You answer, chuckling, still in disbelief.

You finally take a sip of your blue lagoon, pleasantly surprised with the taste of the drink—it’s everything you love: it’s fruity, fresh, and sweet—with a hint of citrus. You must’ve looked pleasantly surprised as you could sense Johnny smirking from your periphery.

“Did I hit the mark?” He asks, as he studies your expression intently, a smug smile pasted on his face.

“Yeah. Yeah, you actually really did.” You sigh out, smiling to yourself. “You really got that whole connoisseur thing going on, huh? You’re not just all talk,”

He lets out a hearty chuckle at your comment.

“I’m glad you like.” He says before taking another sip of his drink.

As you take another sip of your drink, you can’t help but notice that it really does taste so good. You could tell that it wouldn’t be the hardest or most expensive drink to make, but it really does fit your tastes a little bit too well for it to be a mere blind guess.

“Okay, Mr. Big Shot Connoisseur, what are your trade secrets? I need to know,” You ask him, incredibly curious as to why he has your exact tastes pinned down to a T.

“Trade secrets?” He shrugs, “Don’t have any. I’m just that good.” He responds, wearing a smug smile.

You narrow your eyes at him.

“You doubting me?” He asks you playfully.

“Hell yeah, I’d be doubting you.” You scoff as you take Johnny’s jacket, quickly draping it over your shoulders. “A connoisseur’s a connoisseur, but a connoisseur won’t be some oracle, you get me?”

“You’re still doubting me even when I saw that coming,” He says, eyeing his coat now hanging over your shoulders.

You laugh at his remark. “Shut up,” You manage to say, “I’m just honestly really curious. Did I seem like the type who would like this drink or something?”

For the first time tonight, he refrains from quipping in his usual whimsical tone. Instead, he holds an indecipherable gaze towards your eyes, which takes you a bit off guard as the air seems to have changed a little.

He hums, gently swirling his cup of whiskey with his hand, before taking another sip.

“What if…” He trails off, narrowing his eyes at you, “...I tell you that my trade secret is that I’ve actually known that you’d like this type of drink?”

“Wh... What? What do you mean? It couldn’t be—Wait, are you actually an oracle?” You ask him, taken by complete surprise.

He laughs at your hasty accusation, before looking at you with a knowing gaze.

“Miss y/n, we’ve met two times before tonight.” He answers you with a slight smile, holding a gentle gaze towards you. “Actually, once really. The other time I really just watched you from afar. So would you look at that, your guess was on the mark.” He finishes, before taking another sip from his glass of whiskey.

You’re left with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, before resting your fingers against your forehead, trying to fetch any hints of Johnny in your memories.

He chuckles at your antics, “We met at Skye. That night, when the whole venue was rented out for Jimin’s birthday party.”

Skye. Jimin’s birthday party. Jimin.

Then you vaguely remember a memory of a tall, long-legged man helping you get up after you puked your guts out, then taking you to a taxi stand, waiting for you until you get a ride home. You recall him insisting that he’d give you a ride home for you to be safe, but you declined his offer because you didn’t want Jimin thinking anything of it.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” Is all you could say after recalling all that.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it, y/n.” He quips after seeing you zone out, “It’s Valentine’s Day, let’s drink your blue lagoon and live it up or something. I didn’t come out here for you to be sorry.”

You finally brave yourself by looking at him in the face, “….Why didn’t you just say you knew me from the start?”

“And what? Introduce myself, being all like, ‘Hey, my name’s John, I’ve noticed you from weeks ago during that one party at that one venue and since then I’ve had my eyes on you, but haven’t had the chance to make any moves until I see you all alone in this bar I’m a patron of’ …And expect you to not turn the other way and run away from me? I’m not taking any chances, y/n,” He answers lightheartedly, before taking a sip of his drink.

You let out a hearty chuckle at his clever remark. You decide that spending Valentine’s Day with John isn’t so bad after all. It might even be much better than you’d expect.

“Yeah, Jimin’s an ass.” You say offhandedly. “Should’ve seen that coming. He was the one who stood me up tonight.”

You look at John, noticing the way he’s seemingly restraining himself from responding the way he immediately wanted to.

“Out with it.” You say to him.

“Wh-what..?” He feigns ignorance.

“I know you wanna say something. Out with it. Lay it on me.”

“Naah, there are times when you gotta hold—"

“I thought we were gonna live it up tonight, and if we do, we gotta live it up with complete realness. You’ve seen me as a complete mess anyway,” You chuckle.

“Okay, okay, alright.... Would it be bad that I kinda thank Jimin for being an ass? I wouldn’t get this close to you otherwise,”

You chuckle in disbelief, before gently punching his arm. “Yeah, alright, maybe we gotta have limits.”

You notice his eyes quivering in the slightest, sensing his worry in the way he’s handled the situation.

“I’m joking, John. Not gonna lie, Valentine’s been real fun with you.” You chuckle at him, rubbing the spot on his arm that you’ve punched earlier. You don’t fail to notice the way his face flushes a light pink at your touch. “I, too, now, am glad that Jimin’s an ass. Otherwise how am I gonna be treated to a blue lagoon by a real connoisseur?” You finish smugly, bringing your glass in between you two.

Johnny laughs at your response, before looking at you with a warm smile.

“You really are something else, y/n.” He muses, looking at you gently as he leans his head against his hand.

You gaze at him with the same gentleness, smiling at the man who’s been treating you with nothing but kindness.

“…Cheers to Jimin, I guess.” He says, bringing his glass to meet yours.

“Cheers to Jimin.” You say, chuckling, clinking your glasses.

You both take time in downing your drinks in order to defuse the slight tension carried in the topic you’ve discussed earlier, revelling in the quiet Valentine’s night in an expensive hotel bar, having each other as unlikely companies—yet somehow still finding yourselves with each other.

“One very important thing hasn’t been cleared up, though.” You finally say.

“What would that be, miss y/n?” He asks you.

“How’d you know I’d like blue lagoon?” You finally ask him, hoping to finally get an actual answer.

He chuckles at your question. “Alright, don’t hate me for this.” He says, as a smile breaks onto his face.

You look at him quizzically. “What? Why?”

“That night, when you… Threw up,” He says, in the midst of light chuckling, “You kept on complaining to me that you had to take whiskey shots because you’d feel bad asking Jimin to get you a cocktail—a Sex on the Beach—and you were saying that so much—‘I wanted a SEX ON THE BEACH, a SEX ON THE BEACH, in the middle of a crowded venue, and everyone looked at you,”

You palm your face from the utter embarrassment, recalling that such event did actually take place upon further look into the fuzzier contents of your mind.

“Just get to the reason dude, I know you’re telling me in such great detail just cause you wanted to see me flustered,”

He laughs at your reaction, “Damn, that was so funny though. That was the time that I really did think, dang, this girl’s a keeper or something—anyways,”

Your eyes widen at the remark he let out with complete lightness, feeling your cheeks warm up almost instantaneously—in no way you’re going to let that slide without reacting to it in some way.

“Yeah, so, when we met the second time, or more like, I looked at you from afar, it was at this underground bar, and you finally got your Sex on the Beach then, and I was like ‘Oh, she finally got her Sex on the Beach, good for her’!” He says with a thumbs up, earning a flustered smack on the arm from you, as you partially cover your face with your other hand from embarrassment.

“But then I heard you saying to Jimin, ‘They always get the schnapps and juice to vodka ratio wrong in some places,’”

“Wow, details.” You say whimsically, however not hiding the obvious flusteredness you’re feeling from his whole recollection.

“Yeah, so, when I actually got the chance to sweep you off your feet as this handsome stranger at the bar during Valentine’s day, I’d like to introduce you to a similar summery drink that this guy makes,” He gestures at the bartender, “And he does make a mean blue lagoon, if I do say so myself.”

“….Well, this handsome stranger did sweep me off my feet with a glass of blue lagoon, so, awesome job,” You say, still chuckling in disbelief with how your Valentine’s turned out to be. “I guess you weren’t really lying when you said you’re a connoisseur.”

“Well…. I’m a connoisseur in many other areas too, baby,” He winks at you. “.…Too much?”

You chuckle, basking in the playful chemistry you both have been building since the moment you’ve met each other tonight.

“You know what, no.” You say, finally deciding to drop your attempts at a façade, as if you haven’t been thinking about that earlier either. “It’s not too much. Show me what those guns could do baby, let’s see if you could sweep me off my feet in other ways.” You say with an overdone, faux husky voice, earning a fit of laughter from him.

“Just so we’re clear, I’d want to eventually ask you on a proper date.”

“We can do that tomorrow babe, when you’re done giving me what I deserve on a Valentine’s night.”

He chuckles at you, looking at you almost in a painfully affectionate way.

“That’s a done deal.”

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tv-fanfic-archive · 4 years ago

Text

Meet Cute

Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader | Masterlist | Ao3

Reader meets a man in a bar, takes him back to her hotel room, sex ensures, and then love?? Maybe. Fem Reader, no y/n, no body descriptions

Word Count: 3105

Rating: Explicit

Tags/Warnings: ABO, omegaverse, smut, feral Bucky (for a bit), creampie, aftercare, alpha bucky, omega reader, scent blockers, soulmates, AFAB reader

The smokey interior of the bar was cloying your mind with the mulled scent of old wood and booze. It was dark, the only light in the room came from dim yellow light bulbs in dingy fixtures along the paneled walls. You sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey and eyeing the options of the bar. At 11 PM everyone who was gonna be here was here already. You resigned yourself to the greasy guy shooting looks over to you every couple minutes when a cold draft blew in from the door. A newcomer was tromping over to the bar. His shoulders were hunched and he had the hood of a grey denim jacket pulled up to hide his face. Your well-trained eye saw right through that jacket; he was jacked, you knew it from the way he walked. Your attention instantly dropped away from the greasy guy and laser-focused on this newcomer (his scent was all straight alcohol anyways, disgusting). As he sidled up to the bar you turned your seat away to show off the side of your legs, crossing one leg over the other, letting your dress slip up a bit to expose the top of your stockings. He glazed over at your movement but turned back to the bartender. He pulled off his hood and ordered.

“Johnny Walker Black, neat.” His voice was reedy, low, and utterly perfect. He took a seat two stools over from you and rested his elbows on the bartop. Before he had a chance to get his drink and leave, you hopped over the two stools separating you and set your own glass down with a clink on the bar next to him.

“Hey there, handsome.” the drinks you’d been nursing since 9 were flowing steadily through you, instilling you with false confidence. His eyes slid up your body until they reached your eyes, a bored look firmly in place there. He looked away. Hard to get? You could almost purr at the challenge he presented.

Now that you were closer to him you could see his face better. Good lord, he was beautiful, but in a tired sort of way where you knew he’d fought with life and barely came through kicking. His eyes were the blue of an ocean after a storm and just as deep. Short brown hair in messy tufts from the hood. He brushed a hand over it to smooth it down and you noticed that his left hand was made of shiny metal. Your eyes followed it back down, then dragged your eyes up his body. He had to be strong under all those layers. Dark jeans and his thick denim jacket were attempting to hide his muscles but the way the fabric of his jeans stretched against his thighs let you know all you needed to. With the proximity, you also caught a whiff of his scent, leather, coffee, and something unfamiliar, gunpowder maybe, but you couldn’t quite tell, but his scent was entirely too muted. It was hard to get a good read on him through smell; you couldn't even tell his designation. Maybe he was playing the same game as you, you thought. A new product marketed to hide designations just hit the stores recently and you’d be practically bathing in the stuff every night you went out to avoid overzealous alphas trying to get you home without a fight just cause you were an omega.

“Let me buy your drink.” Putting your arms up to rest on the bartop, leaning over a bit, giving the bartender, and hopefully your prey, a better look at your breasts. The bartender set his glass next to yours. You looked up to him through your eyelashes and told him to put it on your tab then return your full attention to your prey. He picked up the glass and slid his gaze to you once more.

“Thank you,” he grunted

“So what brings you here?” You slipped your finger around the lip of your glass, keeping eye contact.

“Drinks.” One word kinda guy you guessed

“Nothing else?” Your pointed look was met with a quirked eyebrow and a chuckle

“Not originally, but things can change.” He sipped his whiskey, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“Why don't we up the chances, huh?” With that, you knocked back the dregs of your own whiskey and motioned to the barman.

“Two zombies, please.” Then you said to the man “So what’s your name?”

“Call me Bucky.” He knocked back his own drink. You told him your name. The bartender sets two novelty skull-shaped cups in front of you. The tangy smell of pineapple and rum hits your nose as you bury your face in the cup. You were gunning for a fast buzz and you got it with this drink.

Soon Bucky was leaning closer to you as you chatted to him. Another round and his hand was on your thigh, squeezing on and off as you continued talking. Your two swivel stools had you facing each other now. Your legs were tucked between his, his hand moved to your knee and your faces were close as if he couldn't hear you. You made a motion for another round but the bartender cut you off and asked for payment for your tab.

“I guess that's the sign to get out of here, huh?” You slid your card over the bar and leaned heavily into Bucky. He got off the stool and you followed with only a small stumble. He caught your waist and kept his arm around you as you pocketed your card. The two of you left the bar only to be confronted by an icy wind. You shivered in your thinner dress. When you’d left the hotel room today it was warm; you hadn't expected this. It seems Bucky had, however, as he shed his denim jacket and draped it over your shoulders. His muted scent hit you at almost the normal strength. Your cloudy mind wondered at that for a moment before moving on.

“Such a gentleman,” You laughed

“Guilty as charged.” he smiled and put out his arm for you to take “Where we going, sweetheart?”

“My hotel room.” Leaning heavily into his arm, you led him down the street to your hotel.

----

At the door to your room, you fumbled with the keys in your cold hands. Bucky was pressed up against your back, mouthing over your neck, not helping your fight with the keys in the slightest. His lips dragged across the side of your neck, just barely grazing your gland, making you whine and close your eyes.

“I can't get the door open if you keep doing that, Bucky.” But there was no fight in your voice, with lips like those you’d let him do anything he wanted right now. But he left your neck and you were able to slide the key into the lock and open the door. Soon as the door shut behind you, Bucky pressed you up against it. Your mouths locked together in a down and dirty open mouth kiss. His metal hand was splayed out on your stomach while his other forearm pressed against the wood next to your head. You leaned back opening your mouth more to let his tongue stroke along your own. Separating for a moment, you panted, chest heaving. You dropped the jacket off your shoulders and pushed Bucky back. The room was so small that he stumbled back a few paced and hit the back of his knees on the bed, falling to sit on it. You walked up to him and turned around with your back facing him.

“Unzip me?” You felt his hands, one cold, one warm, on the skin of your back as he eased the zipper down to the small of your back. You shrugged off the dress and kicked it away, leaving you in your stockings and bra-panty set. Turning back around you straddled his thighs and ran your hands up into his hair, mussing it and pressing your mouth back to his. Your hands traveled down to his shoulders then scratched down his chest. He hissed at the tickle of your nails through his shirt. You grasped the bottom of his shirt and undershirt together and dragged them up, tossing both behind you. Oh yeah, your guess was dead on, he was jacked. Again you raked your nails over his chest, leaving red lines from his pecs to his defined v-line. You smashed your mouth back on his and pushed him down flat on your bed. He let out a huff as he bounced a bit before your arms caged his head in and he was locked back on your mouth. He brought his hands to your ass and pressed you down onto him. You moaned into his mouth and ground down to meet him, leaving a wet patch on the bulge of his black jeans. Slick was coating your thighs in response to all the action. In a moment of separation, Bucky scented the air and growled deep in his chest. You could feel it rumble against your chest, pressed so close against him as you were. Suddenly he rolled the two of you over so he was on top. He pushed you up the bed to hit your back against the pillows. His face met your stomach and he nuzzled up into your breasts. Quickly you fumbled at your bra strap, trying to get it off as quickly as possible. You shucked the bra and grabbed Bucky’s hair. He moved a hand up to cup one of your tits., rolling the flesh around in his hand and squeezing.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He groaned, his Brooklyn twang strong in those few words before his mouth was busied nipping at the flesh of your breasts, leaving little dark marks littered across your skin. Your head fell back and you whined. Your hands scratched at Bucky’s scalp, giving you his own hum of enjoyment at the feeling. Soon his mouth trailed down the valley of your breasts to the top of your panties. His metal hand picked at the elastic band and let it snap against your skin causing you to jolt at the sting.

“Can I get these off you, doll?

“Yes, please, just do it.” You breathed, your voice quiet and rough. He slid your panties down and off and buried his nose between your lips. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of his tongue slipping down to tease your hole. After circling for a moment, he zeroed in on your clit and sucked, leaving a little nip on it. Your hands shot down to grip white-knuckled at the roots of his hair. Bucky lifted his head from your center enough to speak, “You smell so good,” then dived back down, doubling his efforts and making your insides twist into knots. You could hardly feel your stomach at this point, it was a mess of taught, burning muscles that only one thing could defuse. Bucky’s metal arm came up around your thigh to part your lips, opening them up to an unfiltered onslaught by Bucky’s tongue. The metal was cold on your leg and you shivered. You brought a hand up to bite, desperately trying to ground yourself to something tangible while Bucky was blowing you out of this world. A few more seconds and the white-hot feeling in your stomach burst and your entire body went limp, a long whine escaped your throat and you shuddered uncontrollably. Your other hand pressed Bucky’s face to your pussy and you felt him run his tongue around your hole. Your grip released his head and he pushed himself up over your exhausted body. He caught your lips in his again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. When he pulled back you found yourself leaning forward, almost trying to follow his lips as he sat back on on the bed.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Of course I am.” you panted, still not having caught your breath from the back-to-back orgasm and heart-stopping kiss. “Are you okay?” your eyes wandered down to where he strained his jeans.

“Course I am” He lied down next to you. When you caught your breath and you moved to get on top of him again. The skin of your thighs was sensitive against denim. You reached up and raked a hand through his hair, connecting your lips together once again, reaching down with the other hand, you popped the button on his jeans. He sighed against your lips. #Working his jeans down off his thick thighs, he lifted his hips to help. Now just in his boxer briefs, you could clearly see the main prize of the night. Making quick work of his underwear, you freed his member. He kicked off both garments and raised his hands to grip your hips, canting them towards the head of his dick. You dropped your hips in turn and rolled them, slipping the shaft between your lips. He groaned, falling back out of your reach. His abs clenched. Finally, torturously slowly you dropped down, impaling yourself on Bucky’s thick dick. At the same time both, you hissed at the stretch and another low growl resonated from Bucky’s chest. He shot up from his back as he bottomed out, cradling your back and holding you down. He snarled, nosing at your neck and thrusting sharply up at a nearly frantic pace. With the breath knocked out of you, your hands scrambled for purchase on his back. Nails dug in in long lines leaving welts up the length of his toned back.

“Buckyyy” You whined “I can’t-” Before you could finish he pushed you down onto your back and hoisted a leg high over his hip,

“You can.” He growled, steadying himself on his knees before driving into you with short, quick thrusts designed to reach the finish line as fast as possible. With every thrust, you felt the spark being reignited, but from Bucky’s every movement you could tell he’d reach it before you did until he reached his metal arm down to the wet mess of your front, rubbing decisively up and down. You threw your arms up around his neck, yanking him down to your face and smothering him in a furious kiss. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting all the rum you’d shared before.

Bucky’s thrusts got slower, but deeper, harder, shaking your body in his arms and striking up against your deepest parts. A dull ache rose to mingle with the tightness of your pelvis. He released your mouth and buried his face in your neck, licking and nipping at your skin. His hand on your clit quickened, the tightness reaching breaking point as he took one last deep thrust into you before stilling, releasing his cum as deep as he could within you. A sharp bite on your shoulder sent you spiraling into your own release. Soft kisses over the bite mark brought you down slowly from your high. The feeling of him pulling out brought you sharply back to reality. It felt like what you imagined a bottle of honey felt like when drizzled over a nice stack of pancakes. Bucky sat back on his heels to watch his cum ooze out of you. You just lied back, catching your breath and watching him watch you.

After a bit, the afterglow was fading and leaving you feeling sticky and decidedly ready for at least a washcloth if not a full bath. You rose from the bed and, with Bucky trailing behind you, started up the hot water in the shower.

From either the drinks or the sex, the two of you were too tired to do anything more than rinse off the sweat and any other fluids accumulated before collapsing into bed and falling asleep.

#break

Sometime before the sun rose, you woke up. As you came to, you tried to extract yourself from Bucky’s arms that had wrapped you up in their tight embrace sometime while you slept. Still, in a haze of exhaustion, you decided waking him up wouldn't be worth the trouble; he’d roll over eventually and you get up and leave to catch your flight. But just as you’d vowed to stay awake, Bucky’s warm chest pressed up against your back rising and falling with his slow breaths lulled you back to sleep.

When you awoke again it was with your face pressed against Bucky’s chest. His arms were around your back now and his hands were rubbing smoothly against your skin. He was awake. Fuck. You’d meant to sneak out before he woke up so you wouldn't have to deal with the morning after talk. But as soon as you really shook the fog of sleep from your mind and took a good breath you realized, his scent blockers had faded to nothing. A flood of his scent washed over you. Still strongly coffee and leather based, but without the blockers you could pick out the more subtle notes of it, vanilla and a splash of some flower you couldn't place, but the most damming and important facet of it all was the unmistakable scent of Alpha, but not just any alpha, no there was something different there you’d never smelled before, something you’d heard of. It was intoxicating and indescribable. You took a deep breath, pressing your nose hard against his neck on instinct. Mate. That had to be it, nothing else could be as captivating, as perfect. You withdrew from his neck and cast your eyes up to his, a shaft of light from the window falling perfectly over his face, lighting up his eyes from within.

“D’you smell it?” he all but whispered, pushing you up his body to bring you to eye level.

“We’re…” You trailed off

“Yeah.”

“I was supposed to go to Japan this morning.” His face fell, eyebrows furrowing. His arms lifted off your back and he moved away from you until you pressed your lips hard against the spot right at the junction of his neck and shoulder, where a mating mark would go. A groan ripped from his throat and his hands returned to clutch at your hips.

“I’m gonna have to cancel it. D’you have a place in the city we can go?” You nipped at the spot

“Course. Got a place downtown. You can stay as long as you want, princess…”

“Mmm that sounds perfect” One last kiss to his gland and you pulled off. “We better get going then.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #omegaverse

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house-of-galathynius · 4 years ago

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Only You ~ Rowaelin

A Rowaelin fanfic, set if Aelin’s parents had lived and she had met Rowan under normal circumstances, if Erawan and Maeve weren’t threats. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter One

Prologue: The Night Before

The moon was high in the sky as Aelin made her way through the palace courtyard and towards the river that ran beyond. It was well past the time anyone would be out here. She was confident in her abilities at keeping hidden as she strolled down the path and stopped as she reached the waters edge.

In the winter she wouldn’t even hesitate at crossing the river. Terrasen winters were harsh and bitterly cold. Parts of the river where it flowed slowly would freeze over from mid-December until February. But it was September, and that meant the water was running freely; so Aelin had no choice but to jump in and swim quickly across. If it wasn’t for her fire magic that was able to dry her off within seconds, she would hate that crossing more.

She checked behind her, ensuring no one was following and quickly made off into the night.

The walk from the palace into the city itself was not long if you were taking the normal route. For Aelin, she would have to go the long way round; traipsing through thick brush and woodland to reach the edge of the city.

After too many scrapes and close encounters with the ground she saw the distant lights of the city. As she entered the city walls themselves she marvelled at the white stone buildings and the way they glowed in the moonlight, the streetlights flickering in the shadows. It was louder here, the taverns only just opening for the night. A group of Fae stumbled down the street, arm in arm, laughing at each other.

Aelin knew she was privileged, to live in a palace, to have maids and cooks and cleaners. She was happy there, with her family. But sometimes, when she would sneak off to see Sam, she wished she could have a life like this; a life of freedom, to do what she wanted whenever she wanted. The stolen moments with Sam were ones she cherished.

She approached the large store front, a dark wooden sign hanging above the door reading Little Library of Orynth. The real library of Orynth sat above the city, it’s walls protected with magic to ward off any unwanted attention. And whilst Aelin loved that library, she came to find the old librarians there to be too strict, too stuffy, to fully enjoy the books they held.

She had found Sam’s library years ago; when it was not Sam’s library. Her father had taken her there to browse the collection of romance books which were not available elsewhere. Since then, she had come back more times than she could remember.

Sam had always been there, in the shadows of the towering shelves and the dusty books. It hadn’t been until she was eighteen and Sam twenty that they had crossed paths properly. They had bonded over their mutual love for a series of books and had continued from there. It had been two years and every moment she had with Sam was precious.

She gave a few gentle taps on the oak door and waited. It was only a few seconds later when Sam was there, a smile on his face, dust covering his clothes and his hair messy. His classic look.

“You really need a haircut.” She grinned at him and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“And you really need to learn time management.” He kissed her right back and pulled her into the darkened library.

“I was trying to get away sooner, but Aedion was complaining about his new training—“ she trailed off. “You don’t need to hear about Aedion’s boring life.”

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer. She took in his scent, old books, leather and a faint hint of lavender, before bringing her lips to his own.

She lost herself in the softness of his lips, the way he caressed her head as she leaned into him. Her hands found his hair and slid through the messy locks.

Sam broke away first, his hand finding her own, and slipping his fingers through hers. “I have a treat for you.”

“I hope it’s chocolate. Kasper has me on a diet.” Kasper was her trainer, and he had put her on a new diet, to try and curb her appetite for sweets.

Sam laughed. “Kasper can try, but we both know you will not be stopped when it comes to chocolate.” He continued walking, up the stairs and into the apartment above the library. It was rare to find somewhere like this in the city. Most buildings would house two or three shops over several stories; people’s homes were found just outside of the city walls, tucked away amongst the foothills of the Staghorns. Sam had been lucky. The old man who had owned this place before him had converted the floors above into a large, airy apartment. The ceilings were high, dark oak beams jutted across the ceilings, the walls a light beige, and the floor an old herringbone design, worn with years of footsteps. There were little touches of Sam dotted around; a painting he had purchased on a trip to the Southern Continent, a large rug which Aelin had bought him for his birthday. Scattered amongst his things were her own. Books, shirts, a hairbrush which perched on the mantle. She could imagine living here with him, and sometimes it hit her that none of this was permanent, that her love with Sam would one day have to end.

“It’s not much, but I found it when I was digging through some old trunks of books I found.”

Aelin snapped away from her thoughts and looked towards Sam who was holding a badly wrapped book. She took it from his hands, turning it over, shaking it to check that it wasn’t, in fact, chocolate.

“What’s the occasion?” She sat on the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her.

“Does there have to be an occasion for me to get the woman I love a gift?” She blushed at the words. It was still felt foreign to her, the concept of love, and the idea that she was in love with Sam and he with her. And every time he said he loved her, it would fill her with a warmth that she couldn’t describe.

She hastily unwrapped the book and her breath caught in her throat. “Sam… this is—“ she opened the cover. “This is too much.”

“I saw it and immediately thought of you. It’s from Eyllwe. I remembered you used to have a friend from there and you had always said—“

“I love it, Sam. Thank you.” She swept her fingers over the patterns and ridges of the leather, admiring the detail in the small book. The fact he had remembered Nehemia, that he had remembered what she had meant to Aelin… her heart swelled.

She didn’t know what to say, so she showed him instead. Slowly peppering kisses along his jaw, lower.

And lower.

He moaned at the feel of her. A sound that sparked something within. The lazy touches became faster as they both raced to take the others clothes off first; which were hastily thrown to the floor, neither caring where they landed. They were wrapped in each other’s embrace, their mouths moving together, Sam’s soft hands caressing her curves leaving warmth wherever he touched. Her breath was heavy as she let Sam pull her across the room, never straying too far from the other.

They were moving towards the bed; groans mixed into the frantic kisses, their touches fevered and rough as they made up for the two weeks apart. But Sam was gentle as he laid her on the mattress, his eyes devouring her. She heated at his touch, as he showed her all the ways he had missed her.

And when they lay there later, Sam’s head on her shoulder, his fingers trailing patterns along her skin, she didn’t think she could want anything more than she did right then.

The two of them dozed on and off, until Aelin’s stomach growled. Sam huffed a laugh at the sound. But neither of them made to move, they stayed wrapped in each others arms for a while longer. Sam was the first to break the silence.

“Run away with me.” Aelin balked at the invitation. Turning her head to look at Sam. He was looking back at her. “I know it’s insane; but just listen…”

He stood from the bed, rummaging to find some pants. Aelin watched his movements as he made around the room gathering up papers and books, before he laid them on the bed in front of her. “I’ve done my research. We could head to the Southern Continent and with the money I have saved and the inheritance from Terrance I can buy us a house with enough land for horses, enough room to raise children. It would be perfect, and the Southern Continent is beautiful, I know you would love it, Aelin.” Of course she would love it. And she was sure she would love the life that Sam was proposing, but in her soul she knew that it was a dream, one that would likely never be able to come true. She hated to ruin the bliss they had been in, hated the look on Sam’s face as he saw her hesitation. She shook her head once, clearing her mind, trying to think of the easiest way to say that his dream would always be a dream. But the words didn’t come.

Sam spoke again, “I know it’s insane. And you would be giving up a lot, I know. But there are other people who can take the throne Aelin.” He took her hands in his, eyes wide with excitement. “People have given it up for less.”

“What of my family, Sam?” Aelin stood then, grabbing the clothes that were strewn across the floor. “I love you Sam; you know that. But it’s one thing for me to be sneaking around with you here in Orynth, but to runaway from here completely?” She shook her head. “I could not do that to my family… to my kingdom.” Sam’s face fell, she saw the defeat in his features. “Is it not enough that we have each other right now?”

“Of course it is. But then what happens when you have to marry, when you have to produce heirs for the throne?” This had been a conversation she had wanted to avoid at all costs. She would be expected to marry, and her family would certainly not let her marry Sam. There was also the other small problem of her immortality. “We pretend that everything is perfect, we have our stolen nights, and we ignore the dark cloud that has been over us since we began this thing.”

“Can we not do this now? Please.” Aelin put on her shoes. “I have to go. Guests are arriving tomorrow and I need some sleep.”

“So we’re not going to talk about this?” He looked so hurt, so devastated at her leaving.

“Not tonight.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

And then she was gone.

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taehyungs-perm · 4 years ago

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midnight love - ch. 1

collab with @jimins-filter

jimin x reader; superhero au; childhood best friends to lovers au; ceo, billionaire philanthropist, playboy!jimin

genre: angst; lowkey funny; eventual smut

summary: playboy park jimin comes back to seoul city after disappearing for six years; too much has changed, especially you. living out your nights as nyx, seoul city’s dark knight, is a secret you’ve kept for as long as jimin’s disappeared. but what happens when a new hero named eros comes into town just as park jimin shows up at your front door…

word count: 5k

chapter 2

PLAYBOY BILLIONAIRE PARK JIMIN BACK IN SEOUL

You stared at the main headline on the trending page of Twitter, clutching a cup of iced coffee, desperately trying not to crush the plastic cup as you sat on your bed. You didn’t know if you should feel relieved or annoyed that Jimin was back in Seoul. You clicked on the headline and your phone was immediately filled with pictures and videos of strippers, people doing lines of coke, and a wealthy array of booze.

Of course Jimin did this. It was so on brand of him: to go missing for six years and then show up unannounced and throw a giant, extravagant party (at his newly purchased penthouse in downtown Seoul, of course). In the most simplest terms, you were pissed. Even after all these years, you had held out some hope that when he came back the first thing he would do is come see you or call you. But nothing. No text, no call, hell not even a letter. You scoffed at your naivety. You clearly didn’t matter to him.

You rubbed your head in annoyance and threw your phone on the bed, trying to expel any thought of Park Jimin and focus on the case you had pulled up on your laptop. You’ve been working at it for a week now and any and all concentration you had mustered while drinking your 7th cup of coffee went down the drain when you heard a sharp ring from your phone. You picked it up from where you threw it on your bed, the phone screen illuminating your face in the dim light of your room. It was an unknown number. You hesitated for a second. It could be a work-related call, you realize, quickly picking up the call.

“Hello?” you answered, skeptical.

“______?”

What the fuck? How did he get your number? Your mind was racing with thoughts, thoughts that you had long since repressed ever since he left without a word. When you didn’t respond, he repeated your name again. His voice was as silky and calming as it was last time you heard it six years ago.

“Jimin?” you whispered, scared that this was all an illusion, that his voice would just suddenly disappear.

As much as you wanted to be mad at him, you couldn’t. You really couldn't. He was your kryptonite. From covering for him when he skipped detention to writing his college essays, you would do anything for him. Well, you used to. That was a different time, a different you. Back then, you knew you could depend on Jimin like he depended on you. But that was before he broke your heart and your trust.

“______” he said giggly. He was drunk. Why are you not surprised?

A surge of annoyance went through you.

“Back from the dead?” you asked, dryly

“It sure feels like hell since you're not here. Why didn’t you come?” he whined.

“Where? To the brothel you call a home?” You let out a shaky laugh of disbelief. “ I had work, Jimin. In case you’ve forgotten, some of us actually have a job.”

“I missed you.” he said in a feather light tone, sending shivers down your spine.

You wanted to believe him, every ounce of your being wanted to believe he meant those words. But you knew Jimin. He was irresponsible, he was a playboy, he was reckless, and most of all, he was a liar.

“Jimin, what do you want?” you said exasperated.

“I want you. Can you please come over? I just wanna see you. That’s all I want. I don’t want this party and I don’t want anyone in my house except you.”

God, he can spew some bullshit. “I have to work Jimin. I can't come over. I have shit to do” you said coldly.

“Please? I know fucked up ______ I know I did. And I’m sorry. I'm trying to make things right. With us.”

And just like that you were 18 again, falling for his words and his empty promises.

“Jimin..” you said trailing off, unsure of what to do. You offhandedly glanced at your clock, it read 1:25 am. It wasn’t that late. You normally didn’t go to sleep until 3:00 am anyways.

“My driver’s already at your house” he said quickly.

“Fine. But I’m only staying for 20 minutes. Then your driver is going to take me straight back home. Got it?”

“Got it, darling.”

You glanced in the mirror. You were wearing grey sweatpants with an unzipped grey hoodie, revealing your white Calvin Klein bra. Your hair was falling out of the braid you had put it in a few hours ago, with a few strands covering your eyes. You were tempted for a moment to change, maybe wash your face, but then the familiar surge of annoyance came back. You were there to hear whatever bullshit excuse Jimin had, nothing else, nothing more; it didn't matter what you looked like, the last person on earth you had to impress was Jimin.

You slipped on some slides and walked out of your apartment, spotting the black Mercedes on your driveway. You felt a gust of brisk air hit you as you slid into the backseat of the car.

“Ms. ______?” the driver called from the front seat, his eyes meeting yours through the rearview mirror.

“Yes?” you said, shivering from the cold.

“Mr. Park insisted I come here to pick you up, if that’s alright?”

“It’s fine. But this is a short visit. I won't be staying there long.”

The driver nodded and reversed onto the main road. The drive was short. You had just about scrolled through some emails before the driver had parked the car in front of a large black tower. The driver got out of the front seat and opened your door. You stepped out, suddenly feeling very under dressed. He escorted you to the front desk where he whispered something to the concierge.

“He will be taking you up to Mr. Park’s penthouse,” the driver said, presenting the concierge. “I will be waiting out front for whenever you would like to be taken home.”

You nodded and thanked the driver, and then followed the concierge to the last elevator on the right of the lobby. You stepped in and watched as he swiped a card and tapped a few numbers on the keypad of the elevator. High security, you thought.

You watched the number on the screen inside the elevator go from 1 to 69 in a matter of seconds. The doors swiftly opened leading straight into the living room. Your mouth gaped open at the sight. There were girls stumbling around in their stiletto heels drunk, wine glasses and beer cans scattered on the floors, a bra hanging from the chandelier, and too many naked people. You looked back at the concierge who seemed unfazed by the animalistic sight, standing in the elevator only for a moment before the doors closed behind you.

You carefully made your way through the mess when you heard a familiar voice, “Please put on some clothes mister. There are designated drivers who will take you directly to your residence.”

You whipped your head and saw a completely distraught Namjoon with his hands covering his eyes, talking to a completely naked man.

“Namjoon?” You said incredulously. It had been a couple of years at least since you last saw him.

“______!” he said, immediately breaking into his familiar dimpled smile. He pulled you in a small hug. “It’s been too long! What are you doing here?”

“Um..Jimin asked me to come.” You admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Oh..” Namjoon knew your history with Jimin, the long complicated story of nothing. “He’s in his bedroom,” Namjoon said, pointing down the long hallway to the left.

You started to make your way to his room but as you walked, the old feelings of butterflies started to creep up. God, stop it. Literally look at this. He’s an idiot, a fuckboy, a full on hot mess. You don’t need this. You don’t need him.

His bedroom door was cracked slightly open, revealing a soft stream of moonlight trailing into the hallway. You pushed the heavy door open as you exhaled all your stupid worries. The room was quiet but you noticed some strewn pieces of clothing on the floor here and there. You saw a corner of the black framed bed but it was covered by large frosted glass panels. You walked over to his bed and saw the one and only Park Jimin. He laid there, his arm covering his eyes and his brown hair all messed up.. He wore a simple dress pant and shirt, the top buttons unbuttoned. His shirt was slightly raised, revealing his defined V line.

“You have a wine stain on your shirt.” you said bluntly, wanting to point out the imperfections on the oh so perfect Park Jimin.

Jimin smirked, lifting his arm from over his eyes. He looked at you lazily, his eyes slowly raking up and down your body.

“Nice to see you too beautiful,” he said sleepily.

“I’m here, Jimin,” you sighed, crossing your arms. You shifted to the side, looking at him exasperatedly. “What do you want?””

“Just wanted to see you,” He mumbled, tucking the escaped strands of hair behind your ear. Jimin leaned forward, balancing on his elbows, and whispered in your ear, “I missed you.”

You fought back a blush and pulled away. “No shit, you’ve been gone for 6 years.”

“I didn’t mean to be gone for that long, it just happened.”

“You could’ve called or texted.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Everything’s always complicated with you, Jimin,”

“C’mon darling, I’m here now,” Jimin said sweetly, trying to reel you back.

“You didn’t even fucking call me when you came into town. I found out through twitter!”

“Well, I called you now,” Jimin teased, sitting up on the bed, about to grab your arm.

You softly shook your head before walking towards his sleek black dresser and pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

“You should change,” you said, throwing the clothes at Jimin who caught them with ease. You turned around, your back toward him to give him some privacy. You faced the floor to ceiling windows that took up one part of his room, overlooking downtown Seoul. The lights of the city twinkled with wonder and the cool gray fog covered it with secrets.

You suddenly felt a body press against your back. Jimin’s arms wrapped around your waist and he leaned his head in the crook of your shoulder. You wanted nothing more than to just melt into his arms and forget about everything. But that could never happen. You turned around, trying to get him away from you before you did something stupid like kiss him. God, you couldn’t think around him.

Jimin obediently pulled away, stepping back so that the two of you were now facing each other. You saw that Jimin decided to forego a shirt, allowing you to get a better view of his sculpted abs. Your eyes immediately caught his tattoo that definitely was not there before: NEVERMIND written in all caps in a scraggly font. There were various scars littering his chest, some of them even looked fresh. What in the hell was he doing in the time that he was gone?

His voice came out genuine but you could hear a tinge of desperation that you hadn’t recognized before, “I meant it, you know?”

“Jimin,” you sighed. You looked up to meet his brown eyes. He looked at you anxiously, craving your forgiveness. “I don’t think you missed me. I think you missed your life.”

“I’m being serious ______. I really fucking miss you. I thought about you everyday,” he continued, trying to convince you.

“Maybe I would believe you, but there’s four naked girls in your living room right now. Your actions beg to differ.” You grabbed your phone that you left on his dresser and walked to the entrance of his room . Just as you were about to close the door, you turned around to look at him. “You haven’t changed one bit, Park Jimin.”

☙

You slipped off your slides as you re-entered your apartment, the sound of silence overwhelming you. Everything about him was running through your mind as you laid down on your bed, trying to process what had just happened. The scars on his body, the tattoos, his eyes: it was everything about him changed but nothing really had. He still had the same charming smile and idiotic behavior. You tried to close your eyes and finally get some sleep but you were still unsettled from the whole interaction with Jimin. Deciding operation sleep was a no go, you got up from your soft pillows and stretched your body. You knew only one thing would put all of this nervous energy to use: patrolling the city.

You stepped into your closet and pulled out your suit: black cargo pants with a fitted athletic black tank top tucked in. Underneath your top, you wore a sleeveless blue turtleneck which doubled as a mask. You felt yourself fall into the familiar routine of suiting up, lacing up your boots and pulling your hair into a ponytail. You remember being so nervous the first few times you went patrolling, whether it was for your life or fear of failure, you can’t be sure. But now, you felt calm and relaxed. Even though you could never guess what new dangers would emerge from the depths of the city, you knew the citizens of Seoul could always rely on you. And at the end of the day, that’s what made you truly happy: helping others. It’s why you became a lawyer and it’s also why you donned the identity of Nyx.

Dipping your fingers in a pot of black face paint, you drew a crescent moon facing up on your forehead. You quickly put on your black gloves and pulled up the blue neck of your shirt so it covered your mouth and nose. You stared at yourself in the mirror and didn’t recognize yourself; you only saw the beloved dark knight of Seoul city: Nyx. Grabbing your two daggers that were sheathed in black leather, you climbed out of your bedroom window. The only benefit of living in an apartment without a balcony was that right next to your window was the fire escape stairs, leading directly to the roof of your building.

You peered down at Seoul, not seeing the beauty you had just seen from Jimin’s penthouse window, but rather witnessing the darkness and destruction that was slowly consuming the city. Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw the distinct crescent moon symbol that was flipped to form a “U" flash into the dark sky, the symbol of Nyx. It was coming from the Seoul City Police Department and you knew exactly who had signaled it.

You grabbed the nylon rope tucked into your pocket and pulled out a small metal tin. You clicked a button on the side of the tin, transforming it into a grappling hook. After securing the hook on the roof ledge, you rappelled down the building, safely landing on the ground. Tucking the rope and hook into your pockets, you made your way to the building’s garage where your beloved motorcycle was waiting for you.

You hopped on the bike and drove for what seemed like 10 minutes before arriving in front of the police department. You made use of your rope and grappling hook again, as you scaled the building to get to the roof. There, you saw a man with his back towards you wearing a long, black trench coat.

“Detective Kim,” you called to the man, standing anxiously by the large spotlight with the Nyx symbol plastered on it.

“Nyx,” he said whipping his head in the direction of your voice, “Good to see you. It’s been awhile.”

It had been awhile. Detective Kim Seokjin had been only a small-time detective at the SCPD when you first started out. After realizing you both had the same goals and wishes for this city, you and Detective Kim decided to work together, confiding each other in your missions and reports on crime.

You nodded, “Seoul has been quiet. Too quiet.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it means I’m missing something.”

“Missing what?”

“I’m not sure yet. And that’s what makes me afraid.”

“Never thought I would hear those words from the hero of Seoul.”

“I’m not a hero. I’m just doing what I can.”

“The people of Seoul love you. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed, but I don’t want them to depend on me.”

“Why? Planning a vacation?” he said teasingly.

“Maybe. This really isn't my day job. Can’t be Nyx all the time.” you said, smiling.

“Anyways, I wanted to update you on something that’s been going on. We’ve kept it out of the news so far but with how things are going, I have a feeling that this will make headlines soon. People at the office wanted to take care of it ourselves but I can’t stand by any longer. We need your help.” Detective Kim said handing you a tan file folder.

You rifled through the file as he continued to speak, “There have been 2 robberies at the two major banks, Bank of Seoul and Seoul Holdings Inc.”

“When did they happen?”

“Bank of Seoul was yesterday afternoon and Seoul Holdings was two days before.”

“Any leads?”

“We think it might be mob related.”

You looked up from the papers to meet Jin’s concerned eyes, “We cleaned up the mob.”

“Maybe they resurfaced, or maybe this is something entirely new we are dealing with.”

“Any idea of where they’re going to hit next?”

“We think Seoul United.”

“Have a unit there at all times. Make sure they keep track of who is coming in and out. Based on these two robberies, the next one is going to happen soon.”

“Got it. I’ll form a team and get them down there as soon as possible.”

You had reached the end of file when a small business card slipped out and fell to the ground. You knelt down and picked it up, flipping to the front of the card, expecting to see the business card of one of the banks. But it was just a blank card with a demented looking smiley face drawn in blood red ink.

“What’s this?”

“Right. I almost forgot. We found that in the empty bank vault at the Bank of Seoul.”

“Did you have labs run an analysis on this?”

“Yep. They found nothing. No fingerprints, no trace of anything on the card. Completely blank.”

“What about the ink?”

“It’s ink. Not blood.”

“Find out what exact ink this is. Maybe it can give us a lead on something.”

Jin nodded as you handed the file back to him. You grabbed onto your grappling hook. But before you slipped back into the darkness you called out to him, “Keep me posted.”

☙

Waking up was too hard. You were far from a morning person, hitting snooze on your phone alarm until the last possible minute. Between seeing Jimin and meeting Detective Kim, you got a total of four hours of sleep, which was not nearly enough for your strenuous schedule. After hitting snooze for the fourth time, you had to scramble to get ready. You quickly brushed your teeth, washed your face, and combed your hair before changing into a black pantsuit. Slipping your laptop into your leather messenger bag, you blindly grabbed for your keys as you headed out the door, almost stumbling in your black heels.

You made it to your office just in time, but because of your tardiness in the morning, you weren’t able to get any caffeine. You sighed, blowing the escaped strands of hair from out of your face, you knew it was going to be a long day. You opened your office door and saw your long time best friend sitting at her desk, opposite of yours.

“Hey ______! Rough morning?” she said, chuckling at your state.

“Hey Sana,” you replied, giving her a quick hug. “ More like a rough night.”

“Who’s the lucky guy? I saw that Park Jimin is back in town,” she said teasingly, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Don’t even get me fucking started. “ You said groaning as you sat down at your desk.

“You went to his party?” she said shocked. “You know, I’m still offended he didn’t invite me. And after all we went through in college. I wrote so many essays for that punk—”

“I didn’t want to go. He called me. Drunk off his ass.”

“Oh my god, really?” Sana said, pausing her rant about how ungrateful Jimin was and opted to lean forward in her seat to her what you had to say.

“Yeah and he asked me to come over.”

“So did you?”

“I did.”

“______!” She gasped at your actions.

“It’s complicated. But I went over and saw him.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing. Or well he wanted to talk to me. See me I guess. He apologized.”

“For what? For leaving and not telling you? For breaking your hea—”

“For leaving Sana. He apologized for being gone for six years and for not calling me once.”

“What, he just said sorry and expected you to forgive him?”

“Yeah I guess,” you said shrugging.

“Men are so fucking stupid.”

‘Tell me about it. Anyways, then I ended up meeting Detective Kim. Well, Nyx did.”

“Damn, you had a long night. What did he say?”

“He said there's been a couple of robberies, one at Bank of Seoul and the other at Seoul Holdings. They think Seoul United is next.”

“What's the plan?”

“He’s gonna set up a unit there to keep watch 24/7.”

“And what's our plan?”

You smiled at her words, “I was hoping Team Nyx could help me out.”

☙

After a long day at the office and figuring out a plan for the bank robberies, you were completely drained and wanted to do nothing except curl up in your bed and watch Netflix. You got home, kicked off your heels, dropped your messenger bag to the ground, and started to walk to your bedroom, thinking about which episode of New Girl you were going to watch.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, interrupting your train of thought. You wondered who would show up at your place unannounced at this time. You looked through the peephole of your door to see none other than Park Jimin holding a bouquet of roses. You stepped back from the door exasperated. You thought you had been clear of your hatred for him the other night.

You felt your heart beating slightly faster. Stop it, you chided yourself. It was evident from the other night that Jimin was still the same: a player and a liar. There was no place in your already busy life for someone as reckless as Jimin; you needed to focus and Jimin was an unnecessary distraction.

You opened the door to Jimin, his hair tousled from the wind. He was wearing a black blazer, with a black shirt tucked into a pair of, you guessed it, black jeans.

“Hi,” was all he said, standing in your doorway and giving his signature smile.

“What are you doing here Jimin?” you said, crossing your arms across your chest.

“I just wanted to explain myself again. Our talk last night didn’t go as I hoped.”

“And what exactly were you hoping for?” you snarkily.

“Forgiveness?” his wide eyes locked onto yours.

“Jimin...” you started to trail off.

“I’m sorry ______. I told you, I wanted to call you but I just couldn’t.”

“That’s such bullshit,” you started to close the door but Jimin caught it, pushing it aside to step into your apartment. He closed the door behind him, and he glanced around your apartment, taking in the place before looking back at you.

“______ please, trust me. If I could have called you even for one second just to hear your voice, I would have.”

You looked into his eyes and saw his sincerity. You didn’t know what to think. You wanted to believe him so badly.

“I—” you started to say but Jimin cut you off.

“I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose, you know that,” Jimin said looking at you intensely. “Can you please forgive me?”

You didn’t want to fight with Jimin anymore. As much as you hated him for what he did, you missed your best friend. And deep down, you knew he was right, that he would never hurt you.

You let out a deep sigh, “Okay Jimin, I forgive you.”

Jimin once again gives his charming smile. He looked like he was about to hug you but refrained himself from doing so. Instead, he handed you the bouquet of roses he had been holding, “For you.”

You were so caught up in your fight with Jimin that you didn’t register the peculiar color of the roses until he handed them to you. They were black roses. The color was as dark as the night sky. You looked at Jimin then back to the flowers. There was no way he would have known right? There were only two people who knew that you were Nyx. Jimin just came back from Seoul so he couldn't possibly know.

“Why black?” you asked carefully, studying his expression and body language for any clues that suggested he knew of your secret identity.

Jimin just shrugged in response. “It’s your favorite color.”

“You still remember?” you asked incredulously, shaking your head.

“You’re a hard person to forget,” Jimin said quietly. He took a step closer to you and you suddenly registered the nonexistent distance between the two of you. You felt his hot breath fanning your face and you felt like your heart was pounding so hard he could feel it. Jimin tilted your chin up so that you were forced to look at him, staring into his brown eyes. You shivered at the contact of his cold fingers against your skin. He looked at your lips before looking back at your wide eyes, silently asking for your permission.

“I can’t,” you whispered apologetically, trying to push his hand away.

Jimin caught your hands, his metal rings pressing into your hands, as he tried to catch your gaze, “Why not?”

You finally meet his eyes looking at you imploringly, waiting for an answer.

“I have a boyfriend,” you choked out, knowing those exact words would be like venom to him.

Jimin immediately let go of your hands at that moment. His expression hardened and he clenched his jaw: his telltale sign of anger. He walked away from you to sit on the navy blue sofa in your living room, spreading his legs as he sat down.

“I see,” he said coldly.

“You can’t be mad at me. That’s not fair.” You said irritated, turning around to look at him.

“I never said I was mad,” he said, staring at the wooden flooring, not meeting your eyes.

“Jimin, you left. You left for six years and you didn’t tell me. What was I supposed to do? Wait around for you?”

“I just—” Jimin ran his fingers through his hair with frustration before letting his face rest in his hands. “I just thought things would be the same when I came back.” He said helplessly.

“Well, you thought wrong.” you quipped, crossing your arms over your chest, looking away.

Jimin was quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I’m happy for you. Really. I would love to meet him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You scoffed.

“C’mon, we should try to move forward. At least be friends again.”

“Jimin, I just need some time. You can’t just show up in my life unexpectedly and expect everything to be the same. It doesn’t work that way.” You sighed. You opened the door for him, a silent indicator that he should leave. Jimin glanced at the door and your tired expression.

He got up from where he was sitting and made his way towards the door, “I understand ______. But know that I’m here for you. Anytime. I just want you back in my life again.”

He looked at you one more time before heading out, leaving you at the doorway as you clutched the black roses. You watched from the window as he got into his car, ignoring how the crushed petals slowly fluttered to the ground.

authors’ note: guysss this is @jimins-filter first posted fic (ah!). so there might be a few things that are a bit confusing in text but if you wanna see references as to how we came up with nyx’s character, Elektra’s costume and fighting style from Daredevil (the Netflix TV show) was a major inspo for Nyx, additionally we did take some style inspo (the crescent moon symbol on the forehead) from the Painted Lady from ATLA. We are super excited for this fic and hope you guys will love it. This is VERY different from strawberry girl so this is something different for me as well. give a follow to @jimins-filter her blog is aesthetic af. ty for reading and let us know what you think so far! 💜💜

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1ddotdhq · 4 years ago

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🍃Wed 18 Nov ‘20💌

The duality of Harry! Today we got snapback and jumper casual Harry promoting Choose Love- a store where you can buy supplies for refugees- but Don't Worry Darling (which filming looks to be starting back up today or tomorrow) he also appears in his Gucci episode today ready to piss off more conservatives with the Looks he's serving! He's wearing a pink and white tucked in jersey, short ripped jean shorts (not quite booty shorts, but definitely not in adherence to any high school dress code), tall socks and loafers (and how much do you think they paid him to not wear his vans?). In the still that Gucci released early today he's got one hip cocked sassily, his hand on the other, and a phone to his ear. He looks like the gay uncle you wish you had posing as an 80s romcom heroine, like seriously straight people on Mars' gaydar is going off, I'm at an actual loss as to how they could have made this picture scream any louder! But never mind the still, let’s talk about the movie! Thus far Gucci Fest has been an exploration of the constructs of gender and sexuality and the expressions of such - how the existence of some people (“monsters”, as the TV pundit says proudly in the first episode) is inherently political, and also beautiful in its dissidence. They've gone for an artsy, surrealist vibe, it's very atomspheric. I have also personally appreciated the language diversity - the first one was in Spanish, and the second one in Italian, and today’s in Italian and English. Today’s episode opens with a crowd of unmasked people crammed in a public place (post office) followed by a shot of the lead character Silvia writing “we breathe the same air”, a bit disconcerting in these times. Anyway, they see a whole cast of characters there, including the advertised 'elegant gentleman', who is chatting with Harry on the phone! He asks Harry (who appears as Harry Styles™) about art, and how one celebrates the joyful differences of humanity within it, and Harry, standing outside in a garden replying on a flip phone with the sun flaring into the camera replies, “I think when it comes to making art, it's about...finding the thing you've always wanted to see, or you've always wanted to listen to, that like has never been made. It's always like an uncomfortable moment, I think, when you find the thing. You know, you don't know if you love it or hate it, because you don't know what it is yet, but i think that's the most exciting place to work in, and that's true for all the fields you mentioned. I think you draw on things you've, you know, kind of experienced in the past because it's your only reference point.” This sounds like something we’ve heard from him (and Louis!) before, but this time it’s DIFFERENT because it’s ARTSY.

Oh, and also! The Crown’s Emma Corrin, who you may remember being introduced oh so casually as Harry's PLATONIC friend (not a weird thing to spell out in headlines at all, nooo) right around the time she got cast in that role, mentioned last night that Harry had dog sat for her dog Spencer one night, but that halfway through dinner she received a text from an alarmed Harry-- “He won't stop farting. Is this normal?" and that was the end of that potentially beautiful platonic relationship (Harry/Spencer that is). Funny how the resurgence of their names together in the media comes right as Harry’s Vogue cover drops and Emma’s tenure as Princess Diana starts - nope, definitely no promo going on there! Jimmy Fallon, who was interviewing her, thought the whole thing was very funny and cosplayed Harry in his Howard Stern outfit - the bright Cobalt Blue sweater, deep green pants, and pearl necklace, and even included the Louis Blue balloon that made it to the cover of Vogue. Bluegreeners, the lot of them!

Liam’s 3rd collaborative Hugo Collection is out today! Liam answered some questions about the it on their instagram stories: he loves the “disheveled” look that Hugo went with for this capsule, he’s loved to learn about sustainability in fashion, his favorite piece is the blue track suit, his favorite collection (so far!) has been #2, or #1? (someone responsible for making this video to promote capsule *#3* is crying but don't worry, he loves “all of them!” They’re “my little design babies”), and his favorite Hugo outfit was a custom red suit. The new designs, as Liam mentions, are more casual than ones that we’ve seen in the past, consisting of a lot of athleisure in au natural shades of taupe and such. If you want to see more of Liam taking about his fashion collection, tune in to Hugo’s YouTube channel this sunday at 6:30 GMT, where Liam and “special guests” will be online for the premiere of “The Style Eye”. What is that? No clue, but let’s all find out together, shall we? And, Liam is also going to be a part of Global’s Make Noise Celebrity Giftmas, donating a personalized video from him. It seems like the winner will be picked in a raffle, and you donate to enter! The proceeds will be going into a COVID relief fund, so it’s all for a good cause, as it always is with Liam!

And Niall's gone public about being in LA: he was papped yesterday wearing blue Nike shorts, a white T shirt with some flower blossoms over the heart and cartoon naked people on the back, and a Modest Golf mask (Harry’s not the only one who does promo in his pap walks!). Modest Management published a piece praising his RAH show, saying “the first words he said to us when he came off stage on Saturday were 'let’s do that again!'. So, possibly.” We look forward to more, especially if it means we get to hear some of the new songs he's working on right now!

#harry styles #liam payne #niall horan #and no one else did anything today haha #but it was a busy one nonetheless #anyways!#song of the day!#Like Real People Do by Hozier #also in case anyone is curious yes the YouTube chat was a mess prior to the premier and i thouroughly enjoy it

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supernaturallyobsessedchic · 4 years ago

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Goner

[Gif credited to original poster, @zombiepenguin334 , it just shows the dominance Dean would have in the bedroom.]

Warnings: Fluff, Pranks (including fake damage to a certain 67 Chevy Impala), some attempt at crack or comedy, language, kind of/sort of smut (Oral, orgasm denial, plus a daddy kink), rest is implied smut.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Sam pranks Dean, but Dean thinks the reader did it. But something tells Dean, she needs to be punished for her actions.

Word Count: 1,761

Mobile Masterlist

A/N: I started out smutty but then lost my smuttiness, don’t think I have it in me to make it explicitly smutty. Hopefully it was good enough.

a/n #2: All I can say is, think of the Simpson’s “I’m in Danger” meme it’ll be italics.

a/n #3: Named it after a song, lyrics are at the end. It’s just a few lines, I swear.

For @supernatural-jackles Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge

Prompts: “I’m laughing because you’re angry. I swear I didn’t do it!”, such a needy little thing, aren’t ya?, “I bet the neighbors know my name.”

“Perfect.” Sam mutters, applying another sticker on his brothers Impala.

To be fair, Dean started it with dying Sam’s hair neon pink by adding the die to his shampoo. Poor Sam had to go to a salon to remove it by dying his hair back to a reasonable color close to his original hair color. Now Sam has resorted to buying stickers, that you can easily remove, to make it look like his car was shot at and scratched. And it looked rather convincing.

Dean was going to be pissed. And pissed might be an understatement.

“Hey Sam,” Y/N says, entering the garage where Sam was adding flare by grabbing a knife and gun from the trunk and heading towards the unsuspecting Y/N. “Something just pinged, it sounds like the darkness but I’m not one hundred on – why are you handing me these?” she asks, as Sam hands her the items and runs.

“Sam!” she calls out after him but continues into the garage to investigate what the younger Winchester was up to. And sees the devastation done to Dean’s car.

“Sam,” she could hear Dean enter the garage.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” she mutters under her breath, as she scrambles to get rid of the knife and gun.

But when she turned and she sees the older Winchester enter, but hasn’t seen the catastrophe. Not until he’s right at his car.

“What the fuck?” she heard him say. “SAM!” He shouts. Tearing his throat up.

He turns and sees her holding a knife and gun, completely ignoring her shocked expression which, for some reason, turned into fearful laughter.

“I know what you’re thinking, but Dean, trust me, I didn’t do it.” she says, heart pounding in her chest.

“Why the, what the, you did this!?” he stammers. Veins bulge out of his head, clearly angry. She laughs even more.

“This isn’t funny, look at my car!” he yells.

“I know, I’m sorry, it wasn’t me I swear!” she laughs, sounding a lot like she’s crying.

“Quit laughing!” he shouts.

“I’m laughing because you are angry, I swear I didn’t do it!” she shouts. “Oh god, I’m in danger!” she adds, laughing harder.

Her laughter, caused tears streaming down her cheeks, her cheeks burned as the blood flow continued to rise, even her ears felt warm.

Confused he could just look at her, then back at the car. Then back at her.

Since Y/N joined the Winchester’s, it was at first just a protection duty. A horde of werewolves from a pack Y/N’s family nearly wiped out was out for revenge. So, the boys protected her, even hunted down a good number of the members of the pack. Even the wolves, and the brothers learned that though her family continued to hunt, she doesn’t.

She went to school, became a freelancing graphic designer and writer. She had a life, a normal apple pie life.

Then she heard her parents died on a hunt, a witch hunt, when an unusual spell took hold of her dad, taking him out slow and painful, her mom was poisoned by the witch.

She never believed in revenge, but when she learned of this, the thought of following her parents lingered. Then the brothers came. Rescued her, the werewolves and her came to a truce, and an agreement. No hunting humans, or her, they’ll live all happily ever after. Sam even recommended them Garth, and added reinforcement, called Garth up to be on the look out to help them out.

Ever since that odd encounter, the brothers and Y/N have been really close. Especially with Dean. She was exactly like him. More ways than some. She keeps him in check. And he’s her rock.

But something about the way she’s looking, the way she’s dressed, is effecting him.

Her short ripped jean shorts, showing her perfectly toned legs and thighs, a black fitted t-shirt sporting YouTube entertainment. Her favorite gaming channel being Achievement hunter. And wearing his many flannels. His black and white flannel. He remembered when he knew he lost it to her.

After a hunt, the boys were gone a week longer than planned, she was scared out of her wits about them. He found her sleeping in his bed with his flannel on. He didn’t fight it, argue it, nothing. Not when he saw the fresh wetness on her cheeks when he returned. He slept with her close to him, even he needed to be reminded she was there.

“You know,” Dean’s voice was low, a different kind of low. It made Y/N stop laughing dead in her tracks. “That wasn’t cool, maybe you need to be punished, little girl.” He says.

“Huh?” she breathes. Out of breath from laughing.

“Does, a certain, naughty little girl need a, hard, and heavy, pounding.” He continues.

Her pussy clenches around nothing at his words. Causing a breathy moan to escape.

“Oh fucking destroy me daddy.” She mutters.

“Car. Now.” He demanded.

She walks over to the front of the impala, trips over her feet a bit before making it to the car.

“As punishment, you don’t get to touch any of this.” He says, grabbing his dick, rubbing it even through the rough denim material. Causing her to whine.

“Lean back.” He demands.

Her ass on the hood, she sets her hands back to keep her upright as she leaned back further away from Dean. But Dean kept close to her.

He lightly brushes her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She squirms at his touch.

He slowly leans it, painfully slow. She can feel his hot breath on her lips. And his lips just barely touch when she found herself leaning in, needy. He places a gentle hand on her shoulder stopping her.

“Nah, uh, uh.” He says playfully. “Little girl’s being punished, remember.”

“But,” she says.

“You’ll get some, in time.” He says. His hands roam her body, slipping off the flannel. He tosses it aimlessly aside.

His hands go under her shirt. She can feel his warm, gentle touch on her stomach and sides as he guides the shirt up and over her head, and off her arms.

He lets in a deep breath, but comes out a growl when he exhales.

“Bedroom, now.” He growls.

Without hesitation she leads the way to Dean’s bedroom. Dean slams the door shut.

“Bed.” He orders. She lays her back on the bed, crawling back towards the head of the bed where her back is on the headboard.

His lips didn’t hesitate to make their way to hers in a needy kiss. His tongue teasing it’s way in, when her lips part enough his tongue claims hers, lips not leaving as their love is being poured ounce by ounce in the kiss.

His hands take hers, placing them over her head. He pulls away from the kiss.

“Keep them there.” He pants.

“Dean,” she whines. Squirming under him.

He works his belt off of his jeans, tying them around her wrists in away so he could have it tied above her head, unable to touch him.

His lips are back on hers in an instant, as he undresses her.

“So, fucking gorgeous.” He says in the kiss. She moans into his mouth.

He smirks. “Someone likes being praised.” He says. Making her smile as he pulls out of the kiss, pulling her shorts and panties away in one swoop.

His mouth is watering at the sight of her, and wastes no time. One flick of his tongue at her aching core, a strangled moan escapes her throat.

He knows when she’s close when her hips find a rhythm and she tries to get more friction with each thrust. Causing him to stop. This happens a few times.

“Dean, I fucking swear,” she growls, pleasure building in a state she’s never experienced before. “If you don’t fucking fuck me stupid, I’m not baking you anymore of my famous berry pie.” She threatens.

“Damn, such a needy little thing, aren’t ya?” Dean asks, with a smirk.

“I mean it, if you deny me an orgasm I’ll fucking murder you.” She growls.

“Sure you will.” He taunts.

“Watch me.” She adds.

Dean sheds his shirt before he continues his torture.

Hot and sweaty under the sheets, they pant, still catching their breath after what seems like a pornographic marathon. But really it was just really intense orgasm after orgasm.

“Okay, who knew orgasm denial would grant me one killer orgasm.” She says. “I mean, I blacked out for a second there, it was that good.” She comments.

“Glad I was able to make you feel good.” Dean says, keeping his arm around her, holding her close. Feeling her place a gentle kiss on his chest.

The pair hear a groan out in the hall. Causing them to laugh.

“Something tells me he knows we did some things.” Dean says.

“Well yeah Dean, I bet the neighbors know my name now.” She says grinning. Making Dean laugh.

“Sweetheart, I bet everyone in China knows your name now.” He adds. Earning a cackle laugh in agreement.

After a longing pause, she sighs.

“Still with me sweetheart?” he asks.

“We did a thing, didn’t we? We’re now a thing?” she asked.

“I’m sure we can stop with the sneaking around, hiding and just admit that we have a thing for each other.” He says.

“Yeah, I was starting to wonder if we’d ever fess up?” she says.

“I’m sure we would have.” He said. “It’d either me doing something stupid, or us doing this. It would have been one of two ways.” He adds.

“Yep.” She says.

A yawn escaping her. “What do you wanna do tomorrow?” she slurs, as sleep is coming knocking.

“How about I take you out to dinner? And even another one of these nights just not so…”

“Pornographic.” She adds. Earning a chuckle from Dean.

“Yeah, that.” He says.

He places a loving kiss on her forehead, as he lets sleep take him in.

“Goodnight sweetheart.” He says.

“G’night Dean,” she says, yawning again. “Love you.” She adds.

He smiles, with a light chuckle so as to not jostle her. “Love you to baby.” He whispers.

As he brings her in tighter, she even helps by snuggling in more into his chest, as sleep takes them in.

I can’t stop now, there’s no way out, I’m a goner. I’m falling fast, I’m gonna crash, I’m a goner. I am captivated by your treasure, and it’ll be this way now, forever. I’m a goner.

Dean tag list:

@pandazombie69

@luci-in-trenchcoats

@supernatural-jackles

@becs-bunker

@mlovesstories

@winchesters-favorite-girl

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 09/30/2020

#spn #supernatural #spn smut #dean x reader #dean x reader smut #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fan fiction #spn fan fic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural-jackles bi-weekly writing challenge #jen's bi-weekly writing challenge #writing challenge #bi-weekly writing challenge #deanxreader #dean winchester #dean winchester fic

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years ago

Text

Desperate For Your Taste

Anon asked: Imagine vamp bloodhound forcing themselves to only drink from animals or bloodbags because they feel thats more respectful than hunting humans, so during a season of the games their supply runs low and they get to a point of desperation where they beg their reader s/o to let them drink and reader's like "uh yeah ive been offering since day 1" And bloodhound just WORSHIPPING them while drinking and telling them "you taste so good" and then maybe they thank them in a *special* way after?😳

I modified the prompt just a smidgen!!!! Love me some desperate Hound.

Reblogs > Likes. Age in your bio (18+ only) or get blocked!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Bloodhound/Reader

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, Reader has a vulva but is gender neutral, vampire Bloodhound, drinking of blood, going off an old idea where vampires had venom in their fangs to paralyze their ‘victim’ so wellp, you aren’t BOUND but ya can’t move, Bloodhound’s excessive and polite pet names but ALSO their excessive body mods, so pierced tongue + split tongue mentioned. You’re welcome.

Words: 2.5k

____________

Truly, you could have laughed when you found out Bloodhound was a vampire.

Memories of headlines reading ‘local legend part bat?’ hitting you when they’d revealed it to you. They knew that you wouldn’t be scared, but for you to giggle at them had been something they hadn’t been expecting. Well, until you burst out giggling with, “So are you really part bat? Do you got wittle pointy ears and wings?” And they’d pushed you playfully, softly and told you that you were ridiculous.

Aliens existed, different alien beasts that you could hunt or talked like any other person- sure, why would vampires not be real? Though it did lead to you asking questions about eating. It definitely explained their like of raw meat and how they’d wait at your door for an invitation- something which you had assumed in the past was simply their polite behavior.

~Rest under the cut~

Eating was easy enough to understand. Bloodhound explains that it varied, like humans, what they wanted one day. They could eat raw meat or very rare cooked meat, they could merely drain the blood from something but that took a lot of effort and different vein points to bite down onto to get a proper fill, and they vaguely hinted that there were other ways than that, but when you asked they didn’t elaborate. Merely brushed it off with a healthy flush to their cheeks and a, “Another time, my love.”

But they did admit they did not ever indulge in humans. Nor would they indulge in animals or beasts they had not killed by their own hand- it seemed improper to them. You asked about blood bags, but they had made a face akin to a child being offered vegetables so you assumed that was off the table. Though when you asked why not simply chomp anyone in the arena, going so far as to suggest that Mirage would probably love a death like that, Bloodhound had softly laughed.

“Feeding from...a person is seen as very intimate. And though Mirage is attractive, I am afraid you are the only one who holds my heart, my love.” They’d said softly to you, holding your hand that day and tracing patterns into your palm. Of course, this had started with you whining that you’d offered for them to chomp you since day one of being in a relationship, going so far as to gesture at your neck only for them to tell you that they were not hungry.

Despite the fact their eyes had lingered on your neck a little too long before they’d politely looked away.

Liar.

Now though, now in the season they’ve been looking a little...unhinged. In the arena they are normally ruthless, but now their ratings are higher than ever due to their need to chase their prey down. Bloodhound’s shots are on point with killer accuracy, to the point sometimes they take the last of their opponent down with their raven hatchet in hand. You start to notice it gets worse when they do not do their signature sign off of their kills, no longer taking the time to do a brief prayer for them, but instead seeming to linger a bit too long on the blood on their hatchet before wiping it off on their thigh.

You watch from the cameras like everyone else. You’re sure no one else would notice- their ratings were getting higher from this anyway. But you know for a fact they’re hungry. Bloodhound must not have had time to scope the island for fresh meat, or time to take a trip to the kitchen to find meat yet cooked and yet frozen. Regardless of the reason, your concern grows.

When this week’s matches come to a pause, you’re not surprised to hear the knock on your door- they normally return to your quarters to spend the weekend anyhow. Though as you answer the door, you’re surprised to see them in their casual clothing.

Their hair is pulled up into a ponytail, red curls sticking up here and there with a braid framing the side of their face and a raven feather braided into it. Their rounded glasses with red lenses hide their eyes, as well as the lower black face mask with white sharp teeth painted on the front hiding their lower face. A black lace bralette, their fur lined cropped leather jacket, and leather pants make your eyes near about wander and linger at the peeking underbust tattoo and thinking about licking the line from their--

“My love,” Bloodhound breathes out, their voice desperate.

“Right! Please, come inside!” You quickly reply, watching as they cross the threshold as if an invisible barrier had come down. They seem...frantic? The door being kicked shut behind them and you hardly have the time to open your mouth before you’re being scooped up from their impossible strength. You let out a laugh hooking your legs around their waist as their hands grab your ass and carry you straight to your bed.

You’re dressed in your lounge clothing. A loose t-shirt and matching lounge pants with some cute cliché green alien design on them. Certainly nothing fancy like their own clothing. But once they lie you down on your bed, they take just a moment longer to kick off their boots before they’re climbing on top of you, fitting between your spread thighs.

You smile up at them, plucking their glasses off their nose to set on the nightstand beside your bed and turn your head back in time to watch them unhook their mask to toss elsewhere in your room. When they lean down, you expect a kiss, but instead they nudge at the crook of your neck with a soft growl.

Immediately you roll your head to the side, allowing their lips to press hungry, open mouthed kisses over your jugular. It’s so sudden that you whine faintly in your throat, hands coming up so one can grab their shoulder and the other resting in the bulk of their ponytail. “H-Hound not that I mind or anything, but are you a--”

“Hungry.” They growl out against you, their split tongue sliding across your neck and making you shudder. “I have not been able to- ah- to have a moment to-” They groan lowly, as if irritated at their inability to speak. You gently shush them, pulling their ponytail lightly and watching them comply obediently to pull back and look at you.

Their good eye’s slit pupil is thinned out dangerously, their full lips parted and double set of sharp canines exposed. Bloodhound’s eyes are half lidded, heavy, as if they can’t get enough of your scent. They looked absolutely desperate, punctuated further by their whimper and their bottom lip wobbling attractively before they manage to choke out. “Please. Please, my sweet one. I shall be gentle, it will not hurt--- have you eaten?” It comes spilling out all at once, their tone desperate before concerned and you choke on a laugh.

“You don’t have to ask, you know, I’ve always been willing. And yes, I have eaten, it had sugar too so I won’t be fainting on you either.” You reply, gently tugging their hair so they’ll be guided back down to your neck. You adjust a little bit to be comfortable on your pillows, letting them shift their own body until they’re no longer on top of you. Bloodhound curled almost into your side, one arm over your chest and their face still buried into the crook of your neck. One of their legs slots against yours, the other tucked a bit over your thigh and hip as if they’re spooning into your side.

You’ve tugged their hair out of its ponytail. Idly massaging their scalp as Bloodhound mouths at your neck. They seem almost nervous, or teasing themself, their breaths coming out like soft, hushed growls instead. You give them a gentle tug to urge them, tensing yourself up when you feel the brush of their fangs.

“Relax.” You hear cooed into your mind, immediately feeling at ease and you suspect it’s some sort of ‘vampire magick’ happening. And then you feel it, the quick stab of their teeth that you’d only ever felt nips and scrapes of. It makes you jump lightly, a sharp gasp leaving your lips, fingers curling into their hair at the same time their arm seems to anchor you into place.

True to their word, it doesn’t hurt, merely just a quick burn before it soothed itself out. At first you expect that this feeding business was easier than you thought, easing your fingers in their hair and returning to massaging their scalp. You can feel the gentle suction on your neck, the vague feeling of their tongues lapping you up and the soft moans of contentment they let out.

And then you feel it. No, not pain, but this sort of...warmth. It blossoms from that area in your neck, curling down your spine until your eyes are fluttering and you feel your breath quickening, your heart rate matching. “H-Hound?” You whimper out, confusion in your tone, and they moan against you in response.

You think you’re figuring out why feeding off another person was ‘intimate’. You feel like you’ve been edged for hours. There’s a wet feeling between your thighs, but you can’t feel yourself able to even move. Even your fingers have stopped in their hair, feeling like your body was made of warm jello. Warm, horny jello.

Bloodhound’s mouth pulls from your neck, licking the wound shut before they’re moving overtop you again. Your hand falls from their hair, falling to the bed limply and you can move it ever so slightly, but it feels like you’re trying to move it through a pool full of pudding. Bloodhound doesn’t look concerned, so you remain calm, looking up at them as they fit back between your legs. You think you like the way their eyes look dangerous, or the fact they have to wipe their mouth off with the back of their hand so their lips aren’t stained red.

“You should be feeling arousal,” They begin, their voice thick and low as they run their fingers over your sides. The very touch makes you whimper, feeling all too hot. “Every touch should feel twice as sensitive.” They continue, dragging their nails back down to grab your t-shirt and pulling it slowly up.

“I can feel you want this, my love, you are always so good for me. But I wish to hear it as well.” Bloodhound murmurs when they’ve pulled your shirt above your chest, tracing their fingers down to between your chest. It feels like they’re tracing both fire and ice across your skin, feeling every little thing like any touch they gave you was pure pleasure-

“Yes. Yes- you're- fuck, Hound, is this some kinky shit all vampires have?” You manage to whine out. It makes them laugh at least, a low chuckle at your humor as they gentle grab your chest, circling your nipples with their thumbs. Your reaction is immediate, a moan sliding past your throat and your head lolling slowly to the side. Even the smallest action has you sobbing out when their nails scrape across your nipples.

“I suppose you may see it as a type of venom,” They explain cooly . They sound less desperate now, their tone still hungry. But their nails brush along your skin downwards to the waistband of your pants, hooking their fingers in and helping you out of them all whilst speaking. “Traditionally it was to ensure prey could not escape and that it would be pleasurable for them instead. Now?”

Bloodhound tugs off your underwear with their last word, sighing as they spread your legs apart and begin to slide between your legs. Your face flushes red when you feel them nuzzle the mound of your sex before inhaling your scent with a low groan. “Now, it is for intimate moments such as this.” Spoken with a breathlessness to their tone.

“W-wait, are you still hungry?” You breathe out, aware of the dull throb in your neck. You’re surprised when they lightly chuckle, their warm breath fanning across your slick cunt and making you shiver.

“My love, I need only to feed on any life force. I have had my appetizer, now I am ready for my meal.” They speak so calmly, yet it sounds like pure filth from their mouth. Their talented, talented, cruel mouth-

Normally you’d fist your hands into their hair and squirm, but you find yourself unable to even do that. Feeling much like a doll as they use one hand to press over your mound, two fingers pulling your labia apart and exposing your clit. Even their very breath over your slick flesh makes you want to cry, feeling your clit jerk before their mouth even touches it in an open mouthed, hungry kiss.

Their split, pierced tongue is always such a blessing. Sliding down through your folds to lick up your slick and coming back up to your clit where their mouth gently seals over it. Suckling lightly and popping off a few times just to make you sob out. They’re always such a messy eater, nosing at your clit, messily licking you up and teasing your clit by sandwiching it between the split of their modded tongue.

Bloodhound moans against you, their free hand pressing at your inner thigh to keep your legs apart and to feel how you twitch despite being unable to move. They moan even louder at your cries of sensitivity, unable to cover your mouth or control your vocal chords with every cry. They eat you like they’re starving, their mouth sealing over you just to lick over you sloppily, narrowing their mouth down soon enough to seal back over your clit and tracing mindless shapes around the length of it.

You cum in about a minute flat. Wracking your entire frame with tremors and your cunt squeezing around nothing. Bloodhound moans against you again, the vibrations making a cracked sob roll from your lips, but they merely pull back for just a moment to kiss at your inner thighs.

“You taste divine, ansi bráð mitt.” They growl out lowly, watching as you roll your head slowly to meet their hungry gaze. When they grin, it looks wolfish, your slick on their lips like a form of gloss. You whine at their hungry look.

“Hound-”

“Shh. You can give me three more, can you not?”

You whimper out, toes already curling when they lower their head back towards your cunt when you nod.

“Good. Now, be good, little one. I have earned this treat.”

You suppose you finally got your answer to what else they could eat.

You think you prefer this method.

#Bloodhound #Bloodhound x reader #apex legends #apex lemons #vampire Bloodhound #nsft #lemon #princess writing

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 5 years ago

Note

I think it's illegal not to request this: wildflower with the bodacious calum hood

Thanks for the suggestion! I hope my interpretation isn’t too left field. 18+ Content (Smut) Please do not read if you are under 18, thank you!

Please stay safe during these uncertain times. Drop a sweet message to your favorite blogger. Reblog your favorite fic. Recommend a fic to me if you want! We need to spread some joy.

If you feel so incline, here’s my Ko-fi. But please, for right now, know that I just want to provide content to help you all through these times.

Enjoy my masterlist!

__________________________

Favorite Fantasy

Let me put on a fashion show for you. The text is accompanied by a picture of a couple bags sitting on the edge of their shared bed.

Calum grins, fingers tapping at the keys. I’ll be home soon. One more meeting.

There’s no immediate response and Calum doesn’t think too much about it. He knows now that she’s back home from her small shopping adventure, she might be relaxing, or playing with Duke. Though Calum didn’t normally work this late on the weekends, he had to be in the studio for the Skype meeting. They were meeting a couple people about merchandise. The timing didn’t work out too well during the rest of the week and on a Friday evening was the first time it wasn’t a mess trying to get everyone near a computer.

Regardless, after settling in thanks to letting the buffering sit for a solid five minutes, they are able to begin their meeting. Ashton taking the piss looks to Calum. “I guess we gotta make a bucket hat too.”

“Damn straight,” he returns, readjusting the one on his head. “Leopard print.”

“And a fucking pink vinyl,” Ashton tacks on.

“We don’t know. Pink’s a hard color to pull off. We might not have enough to put a lot in production.”

The warning falls on defiant ears and as Ashton presses on that they need at least a limited edition run of pink vinyls, Calum feels his phone vibrating. He lets it shake for just a moment before slowly pulling his phone out of his pocket.

You can say I’m impatient. It’s a series of videos that follow it. He shouldn’t press on the first one. Not just because he’s in a meeting but because if it’s particularly lewd, he’s leaving immediately. Instead, though, this one is tame. She struts in the bedroom, far enough from the camera that Calum can see the purple polish on her toes as he takes in the pastel mint sundress. It’s cute and he grins, biting his lips as he brings his attention back to the screen.

He thanks the heavens he’s angled off to the side. He nods along to Michael’s comment and then scrolls without looking to bring up the second video. She’s dressed head to thigh in checkerboard print crop top and shorts. The shorts are definitely short he notes as she twirls in front of the camera. At the end, she leans into the lens, tongue sticking out with a peace sign. Her go to pose for photos.

Underneath that is a photo. White sunglasses rest on the end of her nose and she’s still in the shorts and crop top outfit from the second video. Her lips are painted red. She throws up a peace sign with one hip cocked. Her eyes look over the edge of the glasses into the mirror. Calum does not miss Duke wondering around her feet.

Calum’s quick to turn his attention back up and the conversation has flowed nicely since his distraction. He gives himself a couple more minutes, even throws out a quick comment. “New ideas for merch? I’ve been burning a lot of candles lately. Think we can put together one of those?”

Everyone nods in agreement and the conversation dials towards what kind of scent they want. But they just spitball some ideas, getting everyone’s input. Calum throws out a couple scent profiles at the beginning and then turns back to his phone. A third and final video and picture duo follow. His eyes see the text beneath it but they don’t focus on it before he taps on the video. She’s in just a simple white skirt and a denim drop top.

He sees the peak of her thigh in the slit. He wants to witness that skirt in person. And just as he goes to respond to her videos he notices her hand creeping down. She runs the tips of her fingers over the edge of the slit before pulling the fabric away from her body. His breathe catches as the sight of the emerald green panties. Those are new. Definitely new.

With his veins thumping against his skin and a small prickling of heat rushing his body, he continues to watch, gripping the phone a little harder. She grins, bottom lip tucked between her teeth and lets the skirt fall back into place. As she approaches the phone, she unbuttons the front of the shirt. A lacy and unlined bra stare back at him. Her nipples are erect, dark but still noticeable in the design of he lace.

The video ends and Calum exhales harshly, snapping his head up again. No one seems to be watching as he gives a quick glance around. His blood thumps in his ears. You’re going to get it, he responds without looking at the keys and praying autocorrect saves his life for once instead of ruining it. If you’re not still in that last outfit when i get home, there will be words.

The phone shakes in his hand. Of course.

Calum can’t ignore the immediate bulge forming in his pants and he can’t ignore how hard it’s getting for him to breathe. But he can tell the meeting’s winding down. The bounce in his leg let’s him know that he’s not going to make it too much longer if they don’t call it quits for the day.

As they inch towards another ten minutes of everyone droning on, Calum swears he’s going to explode. He’s waiting, praying for someone to call it done and soon, Andy chips in. “I think we all have our work cut out for us. Chat again in two weeks?”

With a sigh of relief, Calum finds the door as quick as he can without coming off rude. In the car, he thinks about calling. But no, he wants her to sweat it out. Just like he did. That’ll serve her right. As he rolls down the highway, watching the beach pass by, he curls his fingers around the steering wheel. Fuck, he can’t wait to get home to her. He had no idea lingerie was on the shopping list but if he had, he would’ve found a way out of that meeting.

Cracking open the door to the house, Calum looks to the couch. Only Duke is on the couch and he gives his little man a kiss on the head after shutting the door and locking it. “Tell me, where’s mama dukes?”

“Over here.”

Perfectly backlight by the glass doors of to the backyard, she sits at the dining room table. There’s just enough light from the lamps that Calum can tell she is wearing the same outfit from the video. The front is still undone. The top of her thigh is exposed as she sits crossed legs thanks to the slit. A glass bottle rests on the table next to her glass. He’s sure what was in it, watching her down the last drops of it.

“It was one more meeting,” Calum reprimands. The closer he gets the more the resolve breaks. Her breasts rise and fall so gently as she breathes.

“I was bored,” she returns simply.

Dropping his keys into the small basket nailed into the wall, one that she insisted on having so they didn’t have to play where are my keys game in the morning, Calum leans into the wall to watch her. Her lips are still painted red. From when she left this morning. The first time she’s properly put on makeup in a few days. “You were looking to get fucked,” Calum quips.

“And if I was? What about it?”

Calum pulls the hat off his head, running a quick hand over the not quite curls length. He gives it a gentle toss, sliding onto the table in front of her. He’s kidding himself if he tries to say that he doesn’t love this side of her. When she’s coy about what she wants but not too subtle about it. He loves it when she makes a little game out of it.

She blinks up at him but doesn’t crack. Her face remains neutral, the natural pout on her full lips taking over. God, they feel so good against his skin, wrapped around him. “I would say you know exactly how to get what you want.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me.” She uncrosses her legs, letting them fall open just a little. No panties. Calum groans at the sight and he can’t help but cross the room to her. God, he really does love this.

When his hands slide around her waist, he pulls up and situates her right on the edge of the dining room table. Their kiss is soft. Almost like forbidden lovers knowing they can only steal a moments peace. He trails his lips down her neck, following the collar bone to the strap of the bra. He then grazes his teeth down her chest and pulls one of the cups down with his teeth.

“Careful,” she hums as his lips suck at the supple skin. His tongue twirls around the bud.

“I can afford to ruin this,” he mumbles. But he keeps the warning in mind before kneeling in front of her. His tongue is quick to take a swipe at her core. She tastes heavenly on his tongue. He hikes the ankle length skirt up and she holds it open for him.

Her fingers are digging into his hair, at the nape of his neck as he continues to lap at her. He hums when she gives it a particularly hard tug in response to him. And they feed each other. His fingers dig into the meat of her thighs and he loves how soft she is against his palm.

If he could relive this moment, hearing her whine and pant above him, he would. It’s all he dreams about. It’s all he wants. He flicks his tongue over her clit and she knows she can’t hold out for much longer. He’s pressing all her buttons and her body is buzzing.

Calum doesn’t let up either. Not even as her breathe catches and she shouts above him. His chin and lips are soaked with her release. But he can’t stop. Not with the way she overflows. He could cum just from this. She doesn’t even need to touch him hardly before his body is so lit with need.

“Now you can’t tell me that I don’t eat enough at the table,” he grins, winking up at her.

She laughs but motions for him to stand. “That’s not what I meant by that. But I’ll absolutely fucking take it.” As she speaks, her hands are already finding the button on his pants.

“Huh, could’ve fooled me,” he grins, his cheeks puffing up with the action. The grin disappears when her palm wraps up his length. He drops his head into the crook of her neck.

“Didn’t you mention something about me and this dining room table when we first bough it?” The purchase wasn’t even a week ago either. He nods, unable to speak as she squeezes him. It’s firm pressure but not too hard. Just enough to make his head spin. “Oh I’m going to need words from you, baby boy.”

“Fuck,” he sighs and sinks his teeth into a small chunk of her flesh. He digs his fingers into her waist. It takes a moment to find his resolve and pull away. “I did mention something about you and this dining room table.”

“Remind me again what it was.”

Calum doesn’t need another warning before he slides her off the table and flips her skirt up. He takes a handful of each cheek before swatting her left one. She falls into the table with a whine. His fingers fall to her core, feeling her drip onto him. “Seems like it was a fantasy of yours too,” he hums.

She laughs, cheek resting into the cool wood. “Maybe.” She wiggles her ass for him just a little. He paints her right cheek with a heft swat.

“You’re going to be a masterpiece when I’m done.”

-H

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leafs-lover · 4 years ago

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 15

Series Masterlist

A/N: Italics is a flashback.

Summary: It is Oliver’s first birthday party. You have friends and family visit for the occasion. You and Fred celebrate Thanksgiving as a family.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, NSFW

Word Count: 5100

Chapter 15

November 6, 2022

Today you are throwing Oliver’s first birthday party. The penguins have a few days with just practices. The leafs play the following day so Fred asked to have the party the week before his actual birthday, to allow some of his old and current teammates could come. A few of your friends have come down for the weekend to help celebrate his birthday, as well as his parents.

You through him a “Mr. Onderful” themed party; he has on a onesie that had a white bowtie, jeans and suspenders.

You walk in and see Fred dressed in jeans and a white button-up tee with a black bow tie. He gives you a hug “Hey (Y/N).” “Hey Fred, nice outfit” you say half joking half serious. He did look really good, had you weak in the knees.

“I wanted to match my boy” he jokes bouncing Oliver.

“Well you both look really good” you reply realizing you haven’t separated yet.

“So do you (Y/N/N)” he says looking down at you. You are wearing a black maxi dress, its low cut and tight in the top accentuating your boobs, at the waist it becomes flowy. You are still breast feeding, so your breasts are slightly larger.

You see Fred’s eyes shift from your eyes to your boobs which you ignore “thanks Fred.”

You separate from your hug “looks great in here” he says.

“Thanks, but Heather the planner did most of the work. Couldn’t have done this without her” you explain.

Fred rented out a large party space, and got some jumping castles and games for some of the older kids. The party colours were black, white and gold, with cookies in the shape of bowties and mustaches, as well as some cupcakes. Everything turned out super cute.

The guests start trickling in, and even though he is turning one he is spoiled by everyone. There was a fair bit of penguins gear, books, mini sticks and various sports equipment. Auston even got him a shirt that said “little red” earning a laugh from everyone.

Everyone is having a great time as Oliver stumbles around the party. Fred takes him to a jumping castle. He climbs in with him and sits on his knees and helps him jump up and down on as his baby laugh fills the room.

“That is just the cutest thing ever” Allie says, walking up with Carlee, Anna and Kathy.

“I love baby laughs, they make my heart explode” Kathy says.

“It really is” you say smiling.

“So is his girlfriend coming?” Carlee asks, but you can tell that isn’t what she wants to asks.

“Well the party is half over so I’m going to say no. Last we talked about her, he mentioned he hadn’t introduced him to Oliver yet” you respond.

“He hasn’t brought her to any games or anything. I don’t know if he is ready to introduce her to that part of his life yet either” Kathy adds.

Throughout the party you see Charlotte and Ernst, Ernst smiles at you while Charlotte walks up and you have some small talk with her. While you haven’t talked directly to her since the last time you saw her, she did add you on Instagram.

“Hey so I have something to ask you, it’s about my mom” Fred says.

“Okay, go ahead” you respond a little nervous.

“So apparently I don’t send her enough pictures or videos of Ollie, she is mad at me for this.”

This causes you to laugh lightly “Anyways I sent her a video you had posted on Instagram and she wants to know if you will accept her request so she can see pictures and videos of him since I don’t post on there. She wanted to know if you’d be comfortable with it before sending the request, didn’t want it to upset you or anything.”

“Oh come on Fred, you know me better than that. Of course she can add me!” you say.

“Thanks (Y/N/N). This really helps get me out of the dog house with her” he says, you give him a light smile.

You have sent her some videos and pictures directly to her over the past couple months, which you know she appreciates. While you know you Fred has repaired his relationship with his father, you don’t know if you will. But at least you can have some relationship and be civil with your son’s grandmother.

After the party you sit around with your friends, Oliver is with Fred for the night. “So what’s going on with you two?” Carlee asks “I saw him checking you out all night.”

“He wasn’t checking me out” you state filling up the glasses with more wine.

“He couldn’t stop staring at your boobs, he wasn’t subtle.”

“Well can you blame him?” you joke.

“Yeah they were nice before, but since you started breast feeding they are even bigger” Allie jokes.

A bottle later Carlee looks at you “so are you going to make us ask you? We know something happened” You just stare at her slowly taking a sip of wine as 4 eyes stare at you.

You know these girls see through you, being friends since kindergarten. They know what you are thinking before you even think it. You sigh before saying “about a month ago we slept together.”

“WHAT! HOW?” Carlee yells. “How was it?!” Allie yells at the same time.

“Answer her question first, spare no deets” Carlee exclaims.

“It was amazing, as always” you laugh.

“It was amazing” Allie says mockingly. “We need more.”

“Well he knows what he is doing, and he does it very well. He always has” you say taking a sip. “He isn’t someone who is just looking out for himself, he makes sure to take care of me. More than once. “ you smirk, enunciating each word. “But it happened last month, his birthday, I went to the game and we went back to his place had a couple drinks and well you know…” you trail off.

“Last time I heard a story of you two getting drunk and sleeping together it ended with a baby” Carlee laughs.

“I have an IUD now, so I don’t have to worry about forgetting pills. And he used a condom anyways.”

“Okay but like spill, there is more to this. Like how many times?” Allie says.

“We had sex once” you reply. “That’s not what we’re talking about” Carlee groans.

“Twice” you say smirking. “The first time was basically just his mouth, god he is soooo good with his mouth”

“Fuck I need to get me a guy like Freddie” Allie says. “What about the sex?”

“I told you before; he is very good at what he does. But we never talked about it the next day. When I left it was kind of awkward and cold. I don’t know if he regretted it because of Danielle, or just regretted it in general. I mean the time before it caused major problems so maybe he was waiting for something to happen. Or was expecting me to ruin it again.”

“The way he was looking at you today didn’t look like he regretted it. Looked like he wanted to do it again, and maybe another time” Carlee says grinning at you.

“I don’t want to complicate things. Besides I have been seeing someone for the past 3 weeks."

“Boring” Allie says.

“It wasn’t boring, he is a graphic designer. I’m seeing him again Tuesday night after I drop you ladies at the airport.”

“What about Fred?” “What about him, he has Danielle.”

___________________________________________________________

“Hello”

“Hey Fred. Ollie has a fever of 101, and he hasn’t been eating anything really. I called the doctor and they said to keep an eye on him and if he isn’t better to bring him in tomorrow. He won’t stop crying, I can’t calm him down” you rambles quickly barely stopping. All the time you’re talking Oliver is screaming in the background.

“Oh geez” Fred whispers quietly.

“I just, I –“ before you can answer Fred talks again “I’ll be right there.” He is at home for a homestead, but tonight is a night that you have Oliver, and Fred doesn’t have a game.

“Hey” you say opening the door.

“I finally got him to sleep” You explain. “He had a low fever this morning but wasn’t overly hungry, I thought maybe he was teething. He was playing with his toys but seemed fussier than normal. After his nap it got bad, his fever was almost 101°F, he wouldn’t eat and was screaming, I –.” Words are spewing out of your mouth a mile a minute.

He wraps you in a hug “(Y/N/N) babies get sick, it’s okay. You did everything right.” He is trying to calm you down, but your heart is racing, feels like it is beating out of your chest.

“I just am so stressed out, I didn’t know what to do. He never has been like this”

“Go sit down, I’ll get us a drink” he says walking to the kitchen, You sit on the couch and Fred joins you setting two waters on the coffee table “I thought you meant alcohol” you joke lightly as he takes off his jacket.

“Wow you look nice” you say looking him up and down. He has a nice button down shirt tucked into his black dress pants. Seeing him makes your breath hitch slightly.

“Yeah I was at dinner” he says sitting beside you.

“Sorry didn’t mean to interrupt your date.”

He stares at you for a minute. In the chaos you didn’t even get a chance to look at him, and never even considered why he asked you to watch Oliver when he was home with no game. “You would only dress like that if it was a date” you explain.

“Oh. Well it’s not a big deal, Oliver is more important.” Your heart is still racing as you sit there, he pulls you into his lap and strokes your back as tears immediately fall from your eyes. “Hey, hey, hey your fine, and he is fine, no need for this.”

He tilts your head and wipes the tears off your face placing a light kiss on your forehead. You sit there crying as place your head on his shoulder, Fred’s big arms wrapped around you. Finally you stop crying and sit there in silence. You look at Fred through your puffy blurry eyes “you’re doing great (Y/N/N).”

“Stuff like this makes me wish my mom was around still” you whisper.

“(Y/N) you are an amazing mother, and if she was around she would tell you that you’re doing everything right. Babies just gets sick sometimes. Let’s get you to bed.” He carries you to your bedroom setting you on the duvet. You pull them back sliding under them. Fred turns to leave the room “will you stay?” you ask lightly.

“Yeah of course” he replies turning off the light “ I’ll sleep on the couch”

“No, I can’t have you messing your back out there. This bed is big enough.”

“You sure?” he asks.

You nod and pull the blankets down on the other side of the bed. He removes his pants and shirt, leaving him in boxers, he crawls in beside you and pulls the duvet up. He pulls you in close and wraps his arms around you. You feel his warm body pressed against you as his hand stroke your hair lightly. His steady breathing helps slow down your heart rate as you begin to doze off.

The next morning you wake up at 6 and the bed is empty, you walk out and see Fred in the kitchen in his boxers making coffee while holding Oliver. His eyes are red from crying as he sucks on a pacifier. “Hey bud” you say toughing his forehead.

“His fever is lower than yesterday but still high” Fred explains.

“His doctor had an appointment available at 11, I’m going to take him to it. When did he wake up?”

“Half hour ago or so, he’s drank a little bit but not a lot. He has been pulling at his ear a lot, he might have an infection.” You nod pouring both of you coffee’s and begin making breakfast.

After eating you are loading the dishwasher when Fred pulls you in for a hug. “He’s napping, I’m going to go home to shower and change. I’ll be back for the appointment.”

Fred was right and Oliver had an ear infection. He called the team and missed his game that night. He stayed over the next few nights until Oliver was better, only leaving for hockey. Fred likely stayed a few days longer than needed, but you really enjoyed having him around. It helped keep you calm.

November 23, 2022

“Happy Birthday Mommy” you hear as Fred opens the door, revealing Fred and Oliver on the other side.

“Oh you are both so handsome” you say as Fred hands Oliver to you. Oliver is in jeans with a plaid shirt under a sweater vest. Fred is wearing a pair of if grey washed jeans with a tight grey long tee.

Today is your birthday, and tomorrow is American thanksgiving; Fred has a few days off so you spend that time together celebrating. You wanted time with Oliver for your birthday, and since Fred had the time off he wanted time with him so he suggested you spend a few days together, you staying in his guest room.

You walk in setting Oliver down for a minute, Fred grabs your bag and takes it to the room. You take your winter coat off and hang it up “fuck” you hear Fred mumble quietly as he comes back to the room seeing you. You have on a pair of high waist leather pants with a black silk and lace camisole under a jean jacket. His reaction makes you smile to yourself.

You walk in to the kitchen with Oliver and see that dinner is set on the table. After eating Fred gets up and gets a box, he opens it setting a cupcake in front of all of you. You raise your eyebrow as he removes it from the liner before handing it to Oliver “it’s your birthday” Fred explains.

After eating the cupcakes you pick Oliver up and hold him in your lap, Fred puts a gift bag down in front of you, which contains a new pair of white Louboutin heels, with red bottoms. “Fred you didn’t have to do this” you say holding them up to look at them, noticing the sparkles as you move them in the light.

“I didn’t, Ollie did” he shrugs. He kisses the top of your head before scooping Oliver up “speaking of, its bed time little man.” He leaves the kitchen with Oliver to get him ready for bed when your phone goes off, a facetime request from Connor.

“Hey” you say smiling as you answer it.

“Hey, happy birthday!” he says.

“Thanks, how is Minnesota?”

“It’s okay, cold” he grumbles.

You laugh lightly “how was your birthday” he questions.

“Good, Oliver bought me some shoes” you explain holding them up for the camera.

“Wow, he has good taste” he says. You set the shoes down “yeah he does.”

“So do you have a sitter for Oliver? I want to take you out to dinner when I get back for your birthday, but you mentioned you are bringing Oliver back to your place since Fred will be on the road.”

“Uh I don’t have one. But I was going to start the process of finding someone. I’m sure I can figure something out.”

You hear Fred turn the TV on in the living room as you continue to talk with Connor for a few minutes. After you hang up you join Fred on the couch as he is watching Ozark. “Who was that?” he asks.

“Connor” you pause before continuing “we’ve gone out a couple times.”

Fred nods not breaking his eyes from the TV. “If you wanted to, I could ask Christie. Ollie is comfortable with her.”

“Yeah that would be great” you say before settling in to watch TV.

The next day is Thanksgiving, and you are having a lazy day at home. Oliver remains in his pyjamas while running around playing with toys or bringing you books to read. Fred spends the day in his track pants, hung low on his hips and a white t-shirt, you lounging in a loose t-shirt with track shorts. You go to the park, and spend time as a family.

You sit on the counter drinking wine watching Fred as he loads the day’s dishes into the dishwasher. You’re entire day makes you realize what you could have had if you hadn’t panicked earlier in the year, what your life could have been. You swirl the glass in your hand staring at him as he bends over, you see his pants tighten around his ass. You lick your lips eyes locked on him. You don’t even realize that Fred has stood up and is looking at you until you hear him laughing.

Your head snaps up and you realize he caught you staring at him, a blush creeps across your face as he smirks, “sorry” you mumble quickly diverting your eyes taking a sip of wine.

“You could try to not be so obvious” he chuckles.

“Oh, like you are subtle” you retort a smile coming across your face.

“I don’t know what you’re–“

“Oh please, 90% of the conversations you have with me you’re staring about 8 inches below my eyes. Don’t even try to deny it”

He smiles lightly as his cheeks turn red. “I mean I don’t blame you, they are nice” you joke taking another slow sip of wine.

He walks over to you and stops a few inches in front of you ”they are nice” he says. He places his hands on the counter on either side of you “very nice” he whispers, his mouth inches from your ears. You feel wetness pooling in your core, Fred leans forward pressing his bulge against your thigh.

You tilt your head slightly to look at him; his lips are quickly on yours. You wrap your legs around his waist pulling him in close as your hands reach up to his neck, tangling in his hair. He deepens the kiss; you allow his tongue entrance as you place your wine glass on the counter. The kiss becomes sloppy, a frantic mess of tongues and lips. His calloused hand comes up your shirt and begins playing with your nipple under your bra.

You break the kiss for a moment to remove his shirt, your mouth returns to him, this time to his chest. You begin biting his chest, only separating briefly when he removes your shirt and bra.

He stares at you smiling “so fucking nice” he says before his mouth attaches to your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on it. A low groan leaves your mouth as your head falls back, your nails scratching his biceps, he brings a hand up to your hair and roughly grabs it as he pulls your head back biting your collarbone. He bites and sucks along your neck as you moan out, he applies pressure pushing you backward onto the cool marble counter. He begins making his way down to your core sucking and biting down your stomach.

“Mmm Fred” you say as he slides your pants down your legs. He places soft kisses on your thigh as he moves closer to the area where you need him most. He moves to kiss you on top of your lace underwear, his beard tickling the inside of you. “Oh” you moan as his tongue pushes into you.

“You’re soaked baby” he says kissing you over your underwear he groans as he tastes you through the lace. “Who did this to you?”

His tongue continues to push into you over your underwear. “You did” you moan out. Fred pulls up and bites your thigh while he hooks a finger in your underwear pulling it down your legs.

“You’re so beautiful” he says bending down looking directly at your clit, “so fucking beautiful.” You feel his cool breath as his beard rubs the inside of his thighs. He nips the inside of your legs slowly inching towards you core. As he approaches, your back arches before he moves to kiss your pubic bone.

You are getting annoyed by his teasing and before you can say anything you feel him lick a stripe up you. He stops at your clit and begins to suck on it. “Fuck” you mumble, feeling Fred smile against you. He keeps sucking on your clit as your hands reach down, gripping the counter. Fred slips his tongue inside your folds his nose brushing against your clit.

He licks the inside of your walls, your hands gripping the counter tighter, knuckles going white, as your hips lift slightly. Fred throws his arm over your hips to hold them in place. His other hand comes up to your nipple massaging it, while his tongue continues to lick the inside of you.

“Freddie” you groan “I’m close.” You’re almost surprised by how quickly he has you on the edge, but he knows your body almost better than you know yourself.

He dives in deeper, his hand pinching your nipple. He sucks on your folds, before sliding his tongue back in your folds. He pushes his nose in harder to your clit, you begin to whimper as your high approaches you. You close your eyes, his nose brushing your swollen bud. You moan as your orgasm comes, you spasm around his tongue as your legs tighten around his head.

He continues working on you as your orgasm continues, he doesn’t move back until he has licked up all your cum. He finally stands up wiping his hand on his mouth to remove the juices from his face, and wiping his hands on his pants. You sit up slightly on your forearms as Fred brings his head to yours, locking you in a deep kiss.

He brings his hands under your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist. He hoists you up carrying you down the hall, you bite his neck and chest leaving marks. He drops you gently on the bed hovering over you. You pull him closer before you push him onto his back as you straddle him. You rock against him, feeling his sweatpants rub against your core. You feel his hard member underneath you, and slide a hand inside and find his bare penis. You raise an eyebrow at him “no underwear?” you question as you stroke him.

You slide off the bed, pulling his sweats down with you. You crawl over him and place kisses on his abs trailing down his treasure line, his hands reach for your hair. You kiss his stomach, moving lower to his groin when you feel him push your head down trying to get you where he needs you.

“You want something Fred?” you ask innocently placing a light kiss on his tip.

“Babe” he groans trying to push you down further.

“Relax, so needy” you chuckle before licking a stripe on the underside of him. You place a soft kiss on his balls before you continue to his tip, tasting the pre-cum.

“(Y/N) please” he groans.

“Not a fan of being teased eh” you say placing another kiss to his shaft. Before he can respond you wrap a hand around him. You begin stroking him up and down a few times, you suck on his hip while you continue stroking him.

“Fuck” he says, his hands relaxing on you.

“This what you wanted?” you ask seductively, the speed of your hand increasing.

“Yes” he pants.

“You sure?” you lean down and suck another mark on his hip, causing his hip to lift slightly. “I think you want something else” you kiss his tip again “yeah?”

“Please” he moans keeping his eyes locked on you. He watches as you slide his length into your mouth swirling your tongue around him. You bob on him, hollowing your cheek to allow him in deeper. You set a steady pace, bobbing on him.

“(Y/N/N)” he says softy his hands gripping the bedsheets. You can tell he is getting close, as you continue to deep throat him. He hits the back of your throat while you bring a hand up to massage his balls. You take his entire length in your mouth, choking slightly as you continue your pace.

“(Y/N)” he says a little louder this time. “Babe you gotta stop” he says reaching down to pull you off him. You pout as he pulls you in for a deep passionate kiss sucking on your bottom before he pushes you onto your back.

He kisses your chest, sucking on your nipple, you feel his throbbing cock pressed into your stomach. He uses a knee to spread your legs slightly before he slides two fingers into your folds. You moan as he continues sucking your nipple. He slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of you, pushing them fully in every time.

You bend your knee and Fred kisses the inside of your thigh. His fingers thrusting inside you, his thumb pressing circles on your clit. He returns biting your neck as you bring your hands to his chest scratching down it as he continues to thrust in slowly before he fully pulls out of you. You wince at the empty feeling before Fred brings them to your lips. You open your mouth and he slips his fingers in your mouth. You taste your juices as you clean his fingers.

He pulls his fingers from you “flip over” he says. When you flip onto your hands and knees you hear the sound of foil tearing behind you. You feel his hard member brush against your folds, his tip teasing your entrance. You grind your ass back trying to push onto him.

“Relax, so needy” he chuckles lightly smacking your ass, you groan as he uses your words against you. He slowly slides himself inside you bottoming out, you feel yourself stretching for him. He pulls out, his hands resting on your hips. He uses them to pull you back against him. He sets a fast pace as you continue to grind back onto him. His hand leaves your hip and slaps your ass, harder this time, you wince at the pain as his hand returns to your hip. You continue rolling against him, his pace picks up.

You feel him lean around you, his hand reaches to rub your clit. He starts rubbing fast circles as you feel him becoming sloppy behind you. He uses his other hand to pull you back hard into him

“Aaah, right there” you moan “don’t stop.”

You hear a strangled laugh leave his mouth “didn’t plan on it.” You begin to feel your walls beginning to tighten. “Fuck” you mumble.

“You close (Y/N/N)?” he questions.

“Yeah, so close” a choked groan escapes your lips.

He continues his pace, rubbing on your clit. Your walls tighten as you clench around him, he keeps thrusting while your orgasm continues. Once you return from your high you feel him thrusting his hands pulling your hips back hard onto him.

“Freddie” you moan loudly. He keeps his pace before you continue “babe I want to ride you.”

He quickly pulls out and lies on his back; you crawl over to him and easily slide back onto him. Your hands scratch his chest as you set a quick pace on him. He pushes his hips up, pressing further into you “babe” you groan.

“You gonna cum again?” he asks, his hands playing with your breasts. Your head falls back as you keep rising on him. “You have one more babe?” he asks. You aren’t able to answer him before you feel your walls tighten around him again. Your hands dig hard into his chest as you ride him through your high.

You feel him thrust into you a few more times before his dick twitches, him spilling into the condom. You collapse on your back beside Fred.

You lay there for a few minutes, allowing your heart rates to stabilize. Fred gets up and heads to his bathroom to dispose of the condom, returning with boxers on. He has a damp cloth in his hand that he uses to gently clean you before he walks over to his dresser pulling out a t-shirt.

You roll over and sit on your knees as he pulls the t-shirt over your head. You look to the red marks on his hips and your hand grazes over the scratches on his firm chest. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to do such a number on your chest.” A smile comes across his face as he crawls in the bed. He pulls you down into his arms “don’t apologize, I enjoyed it” he says as he kisses you lightly.

The next morning you wake up and brew coffee when you hear Oliver stirring. You place him in the highchair and get him breakfast. You reach up to get two mugs, causing Fred’s t-shirt to rise, revealing you black lace panties “Jesus” you hear Fred grumble behind you. You turn around and immediately hit Fred’s hard shirtless chest, he reaches around you to grab the mugs for you. He sets them on the counter beside you, before bringing a hand to play with the hem of your shirt. You look up at him as he brings his lips down to yours engaging you in a passionate kiss. You moan lightly, he pulls back slightly smiling against your lips “good morning.”

You spend the rest of Friday with him and Oliver. You watch movies and play toys enjoying your time the three of you. After you put Oliver to bed, you walk into the hallway and Fred pushes you against the wall, he picks you up and carries you to bed where you spend the night tangled in his sheets.

The next morning you leave when Fred leaves for a road trip. He helps you down to your car and buckles Oliver into his car seat. Before letting you into your car he pins you against it, bringing his lips down for a deep passionate kiss.

“I had a good couple days with you” he says mumbling against your lips. Your hands lace into his hair and smile “me too” you say before kissing him one last time.

Oliver’s Birthday:

Your shoes:

Next Chapter

#Freddie Andersen #Frederik Andersen #Fred Andersen #Freddie Andersen Smut #Fred Andersen Smut #Fred Andersen Fic #Freddie Andersen Fic #Frederik Andersen Smut #Frederik Andersen Fic #NHL Smut #NHL Fic #fred andersen x reader #freddie andersen x reader #frederik andersen x reader #fredzilla #because two people got drunk #my writing

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Love is a Dog From Hell, 1/5 (Rosnali) - Mattels

is it really that complicated that denali wants to be the best? all signs from the figure-skating gods seem to point to yes. (especially with her decidedly adult and mature hatred of coach rosé, who keeps wearing those god awful skin-tight ski-pants.)

aka denali’s a figure skating coach, rosé’s a ski coach; the rest is history

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29861322/chapters/73479360

November is sacred to Denali.

Although she’s a full-time figure-skating coach year round, boasting a full clientele of Olympic level students alongside a waiting list that seems to be growing by the year, November always manages to remind her why she started teaching to begin with.

Bonneville Academy, despite Denali considering its title of ‘academy’ being a stretch, has managed to wedge itself into her life, year after year. She spends six months of her year in Chicago, teaching private lessons to overenthusiastic and grossly rich teenagers, but from November through to April, she spends in Utah, working with the students to tighten their quadruple lutzes and receiving a paycheck that leaves her feeling pretty comfortable until the next November.

Although the school is technically a legitimate boarding school, offering fairly okay-quality education alongside the best training in the country all year, a lot of the students only attend for the ski season, unable or unwilling to fund a whole year.

Or maybe, Denali considers with a smile, nobody wants to live in the middle of nowhere, locked away in the mountains like a fucking yeti.

Michelle Visage, school director, emails Denali every year about working for them full-time, but every year Denali finds herself unable to leave Chicago behind. She loves her cozy city life, thank you very much. Living alone in her uptown apartment has yet to be beaten, even with the promise of the best skating facilities money can buy.

Half of the kids who attend don’t even realise how lucky they are, she finds herself thinking as her rental car starts the ascent to the school. It’s a long drive, the journey from Salt Lake to Bonneville is deliberately out of most peoples’ way, ensuring the cleanest snow and freshest powder for its plethora of skiers and snowboarders. She’d definitely have killed for something like this when she was still training.

The school is specialised, known for its premium winter sports programme raved about by former Olympians and their coaches. Everything is fully equipped, facilities and machines inside the camp always sparkling new and top of the line; huge dance studios with scary Russian ballet teachers to help her skaters achieve their best on the ice; big gyms and personal trainers; meals specially catered and designed to build muscle and strengthen bones.

It’s also really fucking expensive; Denali sees the checks on Michelle’s desk with their seemingly endless zeroes, given by mothers determined to boast that their little Sally went to Bonneville! But the elusive RuPaul, who Denali knows funds the school, but has never seen or heard much about, hands out plenty of scholarships to kids she deems talented and hard-working enough to thrive.

Denali’s car turns the corner, giving her a view of Bonneville’s ski slopes. She spots a couple of instructors already at the top of the chairlifts, riding down the mountain in neat lines as they enjoy the start of what’s looking to be a beautiful season. It’s still early, but it’s snowing heavily, Denali’s windscreen wipers working hard to keep the snowflakes off her windscreen.

As Denali pulls up to their entrance, she spots a couple of other employees hanging around outside, boisterous laughter coming from their conversations. They’re all old-timers, Denali is sure one or two of them have worked at the school since its opening in the late nineties.

She immediately spots the inky black mullet that belongs to Mik, one of the snowboarding coaches for the younger kids. She’s standing alone, narrow back pressed up against a red bricked wall as she smokes a cigarette, flicking ash off of the end into the thin layer of snow below her feet.

She gets out of her car, passing her keys over to the valet Michelle hires unnecessarily every year, always insisting, rather pointedly if you ask Denali, who seems to consistently be at the receiving end of the seemingly never-ending gripe, that she knows that someone’ll fuck up her parking arrangement, Denali.

It’s a fair point– Denali would never be bothered to follow Michelle’s colour-coordinated and meticulously planned spreadsheet, in which she’s grouped all the instructors of the same sport together in the carpark, as if it matters to anyone which spot they have.

The valet takes her bags too, which she’s perpetually grateful for; her suitcases are almost always overweight in the airport, despite taking three of her big ones with her. They’ll take them down to her room for her too, as if she’s staying in a nice hotel, not just a ridiculously boujee school.

Mik spots her, dropping the cigarette she was smoking and stubbing it against her chunky boots, jogging over to catch Denali in a tight hug. “Hey slut!”

Denali laughs, embracing her. “Nice to see you too, Mickey.”

Mik shrugs, letting her go with a smile. “You know you missed me, don’t even try it.” Denali rolls her eyes but can’t deny it, grinning when Mik wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“Denali Foxx!” Michelle greets her loudly, ticking her name off on a clipboard. “Usual room,” she says, fishing a key out of her pocket and passing it to Denali.

“Roomies!” Mik says, laughing with an eye-roll when Denali pretends to shover her fingers down her throat complete with exaggerated gagging sounds.

Denali’s always grateful to room with Mik, the rooms are a slightly awkward size– too big to stay in alone, a little too small for two people. Mik works at the school year round, and Denali knows she’s equally grateful to have someone to share with, forever complaining about how empty it feels when she’s by herself with two beds.

“Almost everyone else is already on the slopes,” Michelle notes, turning around so she can point out people on the mountain behind them. “You’ve got a couple days until the kids are allowed out, so better make the most of it.”

The school is laid out like a small village, boys on one side and girls on another, divided in almost everything except meals, which they have in the dining hall all together. The dorms are split into age, six buildings facing parallel to one another in a large U-shape, each with attached communal bathrooms and showers for the students. The buildings are all deliberately short so you can gape at Utah’s mountains practically anywhere on campus.

“I’ve been waiting for you to go out,” Mik says, grabbing Denali’s hand between her cold fingers, trying to drag her down the asphalt leading to the sports instructors’ rooming in the centre of the U.

The academics take place a couple miles down the road in a big building that actually looks like a school, which Michelle swears helps the students to stay focused, but Denali can’t say she’s totally convinced. She’s seen them get off the bus after school, racing one another to be the first in the chairlift queue.

“I really don’t want to go.” Denali whines, but lets Mik tug her down the path regardless. She’s not the best snowboarder even on her best days, and Mik always wants to take her down the especially mogul-ly runs, zipping in between trees and dodging ice patches that are still missing snow.

“Yes you do!” She says, practically skipping down the road. “There’s only a couple of us here anyways, and the kids aren’t allowed to carve up the snow yet– it’ll be fun!”

Denali rolls her eyes, with a sigh. “I’m only doing green runs!”

“Only red runs? Perfect!”

“No, fuck, come on Mik,” she huffs, her breath coming out in sharp puffs in the cold air. “I’m out of practice, this isn’t fair.”

Mik looks at her, shrugging her narrow shoulders, “how’s that my issue, gorge?”

She groans loudly as they approach the staff building, letting Mik lead the way to their room, unlocking the door with her own key.

Mik keeps their room uncharacteristically clean, especially in comparison to her wardrobe filled with clothes piled up on the bottom rather than on their hangers. Denali is pleased to see her blue suitcases on the side of the room Mik’s left for her, both her skating and snowboard boot bags by the end of her bed.

Mik talks aimlessly about the year so far as Denali changes out of her oversized shirt and equally oversized jeans combo. She rifles through her suitcases, half listening to the other girl, searching for her snow-pants and a hoodie, adhering to Mik’s advice to forgo her ski-jacket as it’s still early in the season and sunny enough, despite the snowfall.

She makes her help her lace up her boots properly, watching Mik’s skilled hands tightening them in record time. “Are you borrowing a board?” She asks.

“Mm,” Denali confirms, “are they ready?”

“You can literally borrow mine,” Mik squints up at her from her kneeling position, “we’re like, basically the same height.”

Denali scoffs at this, arching one of her dark eyebrows. “No fucking way am I borrowing one of yours, they’re all deathtraps.”

“They’re literally normal boards.”

“No, they’re all weirdly thin and flexible, I’ll literally break my neck.”

Mik frowns, “ok, first of all, rude. Second of all, I’ll have you know my boards are perfectly safe–”

“–did you or did you not snap one in half last year?”

“That was one time!”

“And that’s one time too many, doll.” Denali says, leaning down to tuck the laces into the tongue of her boot, pulling down her pants so they rest over the top. She reaches out a palm, helping Mik up from her kneeling position. “Get ready and I’ll meet you by the chairlift, okay?”

Mik rolls her eyes, reaching into Denali’s suitcase to attach her goggles to her helmet, passing it over with her gloves tucked neatly inside, as she would with her ten year-olds. Denali yells a thanks over her shoulder as she leaves, weaving her way out of their building to run down to their small ski shop.

☆☆☆☆☆

Humiliatingly enough, Mik makes Denali carry her snowboard with her on the chairlift, refusing to let her sit with one foot strapped in like a normal person would.

“You’re gonna knock your teeth out,” she laughs when Denali complains loudly about it. “Like fully splat, bitch.”

“I know how to ride a chairlift, thank you very much.” Denali grumbles, clutching her board tightly in her arms and sitting down. Mik reaches behind them, pulling down the safety bar, which Denali rests her feet on.

“Can’t have any casualties on day one, gorge.”

“The only casualty will be from me wringing your skinny little neck out when you push me down the mountain, you fucking bitch.” She groans, looking at the run below them.

There’s a pack of skiers weaving their way down tightly together under the poles of the lift. She can already see the deep valleys of moguls, even with her terrible eyesight. One of them looks up at their chair, waving at them with a grin.

Denali squints and she can see it’s Tayce, one of the newer instructors at the school. They had made fast friends last year, gossiping together about who hooked up with who over Thanksgiving– no, no, no, it’s clearly Brooklyn and Vanessa, they keep eyeing each other up–, which of their kids were likely to actually make the Olympic team– all of mine, thank you very much, Taycey–, who they might fuck given the chance– have you not seen A’Whora in the physio suite? I’d let her curb-stomp my neck– et cetera, et cetera.

“Everyone else is coming up tonight and tomorrow,” Mik remarks, waving over-exaggeratedly waving down to Tayce like she’s in a pantomime. “Tayce is like the only bitch I can stand here, as of currently”

“ As of currently? I’m here, as of currently! ”

“My point still stands, gorge.”

“After this run can you join up with them?” Denali groans, “Tayce’ll go super-speed with you. And she’ll let you harass her without breaking your nose.”

Mik laughs, “I don’t go that fast, bitch.”

“Have you ever seen that Disney movie Bolt ? Y’know the one with that dog who runs like, full speed of light? They could do a live-action version with you as the dog.”

“Woof!”

Denali’s face cracks into a grin as she rolls her eyes, “I’m serious! One minute you’re next to me, the next you’re–” she slides her gloved hands together in a forward motion “–zip . And then I’m the idiot who can’t get down.

“I’d never leave you!” Mik gasps, clapping a palm to her chest. “How dare you, fucking bitch.”

Denali scoffs loudly in response. Every year Mik tries to bully her into doing a couple runs together, and every year without fail Denali obliges, only to find herself stuck at the top of a mountain, Mik nowhere in sight.

“Head,” Mik announces, reminding Denali to duck her head so Mik can raise the safety bar, as they start to approach the end of the lift. Mik lines herself up to the drop-off, riding around the corner smoothly, giggling as Denali has to jog to keep up.

They both sit down to strap in, Mik tightening Denali’s bindings for her and pulling her up with a roll of her eyes.

“See you at the bottom?” Mik asks. Before Denali can answer, she’s slipped off, whooping as she hits a bump and flies upwards, grabbing the nose of her board as she hits the jump.

“So much for never leaving me, I guess,” Denali grumbles, carefully edging herself down the slopes with big sweeping S-shaped turns, she knows Mik will laugh at her about later, reminding her how her ten year-olds could easily out-board her.

Uh yeah, I’d fucking hope so, Denali thinks to herself, curving around onto the toe-edge of her board. Otherwise this’d be the biggest waste of money like, uh, ever.

The air that whips around her is cool, blowing snowflakes into her dark hair, but she doesn’t feel cold, happy in her thick sweatshirt and pants. Her feet are desperate to be unlatched from the board, feeling slightly unnatural to be locked in. She’s much more in her element spraying ice as she nails a complicated spin, she knows Mik would eat ass on.

Yeah, she thinks, fuck you and your ten year-olds, Mickey.

☆☆☆☆☆

“Michelle’s put the board up,” Tayce says in the late afternoon, sticking her head around Denali and Mik’s door propped open by a snowboard boot.

Denali looks up from the book she’s reading, comfortably curled up on her bed with her mandatory evening uniform of thick fluffy socks and sweats on. Mik, on the other hand, is still in her lycra leggings and hoodie, having made no effort to change since coming back, much to Denali’s disgust.

“Well?” Tayce asks in annoyance, cocking her hip, “you coming or what?”

Mik groans, rolling off of her bed and moving to stand next to Tayce in their doorway, bare feet on the cold linoleum. Denali carefully places her bookmark in her book, grabbing a pair of Nike slides– sponsored, thank you very much– and begrudgingly walking down the corridor to their big common room.

The Board– with an optional trademarked symbol from Mik– as it’s been aptly dubbed, is a large whiteboard divided neatly (by the increasingly anal Michelle) into a leaderboard. The top ten coaches are listed top to bottom, ordering the number of world title holders they’ve coached at Bonneville, bonus points being allotted to those whose kids win gold, and double points if the title being held was Olympian.

Michelle says it builds healthy competition. Denali says it builds a desire to Tonya Harding every other bitch in this place. Tomayto, tomahto.

Denali hadn’t even been on The Board, until she had returned three seasons ago with the last World Skating Championships under her belt, managing to land three podium spots. She proudly boasted for months to anyone that looked like they might listen that her girls had swept the categories, winning medals across the ladies’ single event, ice dance and pair skating.

Despite her allure of confidence, she knows she only made it up there because Michelle insists on starting fresh each year. She tries to tell them that she’s giving the new coaches a chance, but everyone knows it’s to keep egos in check.

Egos like mother-fucking Rosé McCorkell’s, who’s placed first on The Board two years running.

First as in one spot ahead of Denali’s second, first. First as in gloating in Denali’s face every opportunity she gets (and rest be assured, every opportunity means every opportunity ), first. First as in deliberately sabotaging Denali’s skaters, first– well, at least in Denali’s eyes.

Okay, whatever, yes it could have been a coincidence that one of her front runners’ sole came unglued from the attached blade on the morning of Nationals a year ago. And yeah, sure, maybe Rosé was like, several states away from the incident. And okay, yes, she still came in first after the whole thing, so it’s not it even really mattered after all. But Denali just knows Rosé had something to do with it, that bitch.

“Who’s on top of the pyramid this year?” Mik sing-songs when they approach The Board. Denali instinctively works her way through their photos from the bottom to the top, clapping Tayce lightly on the back when she sees her smack-dab in the centre.

She isn’t nervous; she knows she did well this year, the girls she had coached in the previous season competing in nationally-recognised competitions, pictures of them grinning up on their podiums, flowers in sequinned arms, emailed to her and the school. And it’s not even like it matters.

Her photo stands in line with another, both placed side-by-side at the top of the leaderboard. She can hear Mik mumble an oh shit, with a laugh as she realises that Denali is tied with Rosé at the top.

Okay, so maybe it matters a little bit.

Rosé’s photo looks down at her. She’s wearing her obnoxious signature pink ski jacket, her name embroidered into it in a sparkly silver thread. Her equally obnoxiouly signature curly pink hair has been tied up in a messy ponytail, and she stares at Denali with a big fucking grin on her face.

Denali wants to rip down the laminated photo, putting it into a paper shredder and watch as Rosé’s dumb face gets torn into ribbons.

“Healthy competition huh?” Tayce remarks, wrapping a long arm around Denali’s shoulders. “The cheek, the nerve, the audacity and the gumption, mama.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” A voice groans, Denali turns around and is met by the woman of the hour. Rosé looks her up and down, irritation flickering in her green eyes. “Stepping your shit up, this season ice princess?”

Denali arches an eyebrow in response. “Evidently, McCorkell.”

Rosé smiles at her, all pearly white teeth Denali is pretty sure are veneers– well, at least that’s the rumour she and Tayce started last year as a laugh.

All of a sudden, she feels like a shark’s prey, a minnow trapped inside the great white’s tank. Rosé doesn’t have to say anything for Denali to know that she’s going to be in for a tough season.

Better get that hammer ready, she thinks to herself, I am not the Nancy Kerrigan of this competition, bitch.

tags: rosé, denali foxx, gottmik, rosnali, rivals to lovers, coach au, figure skating au, skiing au, lesbian au, love is a dog from hell, mattels

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