#that I didn’t want to discuss my views on in front of him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingkatsuki · 1 year ago

Text

— baby fever

Bakugou sees you cradling Kirishima’s newborn in your arms, and thinks it wouldn’t be so bad to have a baby of your own.

Warnings: 18+, not proofread, breeding, unprotected sex, public sex, car sex, dirty talk, one use of the word daddy, creampie.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 2.1k.

“Come and hold him, Kats.” You tried to beckon your husband in from the kitchen, looking up at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

Kirishima’s newborn was bundled in your arms as you sat on his living room couch. It was your first visit since being in the hospital for the birth, noticing the soft glow his wife had as she sat beside you. A warm mug of tea in her hands as you looked down at the baby with awe and adoration.

“Maybe later,” Bakugou replied from his position as he gave you a small smile.

Despite the years you’d spent with Bakugou, you’d never really discussed kids. Perfectly content with the life you’d created together. But as your friends grew older, they began to settle down in to happy families and it had you longing for a family of your own with your partner.

Lingering in the doorway of the kitchen gave Bakugou the perfect view of you on the couch cradling Kirishima’s newborn. The small bundle looked tiny compared to you, stroking your knuckle against a soft cheek as you cooed down at the baby.

“So when’s it your turn, bro?” Kirishima grinned at his best friend as he handed him a beer from the fridge, breaking Bakugou out of his stupor as he twisted the cap off the bottle.

“Nah,” He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, “We ain’t discussed kids.”

“Maybe you should, man,” Kirishima nodded towards you, “It suits her.”

His best friend was right. There was almost an ethereal glow radiating from you as he watched you across the room. Picturing how you’d look cradling a bundle of joy of your own, a child that you’d both created together. Thinking about how pretty you’d look all round and plump with his child as you brought a new life into the world.

Bakugou felt like a pervert as the thought had his cock stirring between his thighs. The thought of watching your body grow because of him had a desperate ache of desire burning molten lava inside him, claiming you as his and showing everyone once and for all who you belonged to.

“Talk to her about it, man.” Kirishima clinked his beer bottle against Bakugou’s with a grin, “You never know.”

“Are you okay?” You hummed, taking his hand in your own as you walked back to the car, “You hardly said a word in there. I know you don’t like kids, but—”

“Is that what you think?” Bakugou turned to face you.

“I mean you’ve never mentioned them before,” You smiled softly, “I know you love the little fans that adore Dynamight but we’ve never really talked about kids ourselves have we?”

“Would it be so bad?” Bakugou chewed on his bottom lip, his hand tightening around yours.

“What?” You tilted your head in confusion.

“If we had kids, would it be so bad?” Bakugou mumbled, “I could give up more missions and patrols, work from home. My sidekicks can handle a lot of shit if I’m out more often—”

“Katsuki,” You grinned, reaching your arms up to wrap around his broad shoulders as you cut him off, “I’d love to have kids with you.”

Bakugou placed his hands on your hips, fingertips digging into the soft skin as he held you close. Pressing you against the front door of his car as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips, “You know you’d look so fuckin’ hot carrying our child.”

“Yeah?” You teased, playing with the buzzed hair at the back of his neck, “What’s brought all this on?”

“Seeing you with Kiri’s kid? The little baby in your arms— you’d make such a good mother, and I want to experience that with you.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while actually,” You smiled, leaning up to press a glossy kiss to his jaw, “You’d be such an amazing dad, Katsuki. Kids adore you.”

“Tch, you been thinkin’ about it and didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to get in the way of your dreams or your career,” You shook your head, “Being with you is enough, we have such a good life- but I’d love to have kids with you.”

“Kids plural?” Bakugou grinned, nosing your cheek, “We better get started then, huh?”

“What, right now?” You laughed, “You better drive fast then.”

“Who said anything about drivin’?” Bakugou shook his head as he rut his hips forward, feeling the bulge in his jeans press against your tummy as you gasped in surprise.

“Katsuki—”

“What?” He scoffed, “It ain’t my fuckin’ fault you’d make such a hot mama.”

Bakugou opened the back door of his car as he walked you towards the seat, “Wait— here?”

“It was either here, or Kiri’s bathroom and we both know you can’t keep quiet for shit,” Bakugou grins,

“That’s not my fault,” You squealed as he pushed you down onto the seat, closing the door behind him as he clambered on top of you.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Bakugou groaned, already unbuckling his belt as he let it hang loose through the loops in his jeans, “I gotta fuck a baby into you, sweetheart.”

“What if someone sees—” You were cut off with Bakugou’s lips against yours in a hot and heavy kiss, his palms groping your chest as he pressed his bulge against you. Feeling the hardness graze your clit only separated by thin layers of fabric.

“Let them watch me stuff you full of cum,” He groaned.

You could feel his desperation as he bunched your skirt up around your hips, pawing at the hem of your panties as he pulled them down your thighs. Using them to push your legs up as he pinned them to your chest, your pretty heels still buckled against your feet as he positioned himself between your plush thighs.

“Oh fuck, Katsuki.” You groaned, feeling him lean his body weight against you as he fisted his cock. Guiding the leaky tip between your messy folds as he blindly searched for your tight entrance.

“I’ll make you cum on my tongue when we get home sweetheart, but I gotta fuckin’ have you now.”

The confines of the back of his car made it difficult to move as the tip caught against your hole before sliding along your folds to nudge your clit, repositioning himself to try again as he pushed forward with more urgency. Watching your lips part in a silent moan as he stole the air from your lungs, pressing into you inch by excruciating inch.

“Oh my god, Kats—” You scrambled to find purchase as your hands gripped his arms on either side of you, the new position had him deeper inside you as you felt every vein of his cock moulding to your slick heat.

“Want me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” He rasped, stilling inside you for a moment to adjust as he felt his balls tighten from the sensation. The pent up desire inside him almost too much as he felt you clamp down around him.

“Please,” You mewled, trying desperately to get him to move as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Bakugou choked out as he began a rough pace, his heavy balls slapping against the swell of your ass as he hunched over you.

Rough hands reaching out to massage your bouncing breasts as he pulled at your dress, pawing them in large hands as his cock twitched inside you.

“Can’t wait for these to get bigger,” He grunted, reaching beneath the fabric to pinch at your nipples, “They’re gonna have the fuckin’ life sucking those all damn day.”

“Kats.” You writhed beneath him as he kept his steady pace, crimson eyes searing into you as he gave you another chaste kiss.

“I can barely keep my hands off you as it is, imagine when you’re carrying my kid.” He groaned, his lips parted in a constant moan as he felt your walls clamp down around him at his words, “Make you all nice and round with my spunk.”

“Oh shit,” You trembled beneath him as your hands slipped under the bottom of his shirt, raking your nails along his back as he kept pistoning his hips into you.

The windows were beginning to fog as the air inside the vehicle became hot and heavy, almost suffocating as he continued his ruthless pace.

“You’d look so fuckin’ perfect carrying my child.” Bakugou rambled, feeling his cock twitch as he neared his release. The pent up desire that was building inside him ensured he wouldn’t maintain the usual stamina right now, the insatiable urge to fill you with his seed was all too much as he sought his release, “You’d be the hottest fuckin’ mama.”

“Shit,” You whined, feeling your walls begin to tremble around him as you felt yourself swiftly approaching your climax.

Bakugou could feel the way your walls were clenching around him as his hand dipped between your connected bodies, the calloused pad of his thumb rubbing messy circles against your puffy clit as he felt you on the cusp of your release.

“Come on, sweetheart,” He taunted, “Cum for me so I can fill you up, yeah?”

White spots began to blank your vision as you felt your orgasm crash down on you in harsh waves, your thighs shaking as you cried out his name. Your walls clamping down around his thick cock as he worked you through your release, desperately trying to milk him of his own.

“That’s it,” He cooed, “That’s my good girl.”

“Please, Katsuki,” You mewled, your toes curling as you basked in the bliss of your climax, “I want it so bad, please cum inside me.”

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up?” He groaned, “Fuck you over and over until you’re dripping with my cum?”

“Fuck—” You gasped, the sultry tone of his voice becoming far too much, “Please, daddy.”

“Oh, fuck- shit,” Bakugou gasped as the name caught him by surprise. His hips stuttering as his pace faltered, choking back a desperate groan until he was dangerously close to the edge, “You want daddy to stuff you full? Breed this little pussy until you’re round and full of my seed? So everyone knows who you belong to—”

“Oh, God. Please, Katsuki. Make me take it all, fuck—”

“You ready, sweetheart? Fuckin’ take it.” He grunted, his balls tightening as he pumped rope after rope of hot cum inside your eager cunt. Your walls clamping down around him as you milked him of his release, “Just like that, that’s it— good girl.”

You stroked your fingers through his sweaty hair as he leaned his forehead to yours to relax his breathing as you both came down from your highs. His warm lips peppering kisses against your face as your walls continued to spasm around his softening cock. Keeping you plugged full of his release for a little longer as he regained his breath.

“I hope Kiri didn’t see,” You pouted as you were thankful for the steamy windows, even if it did make your actions far more obvious, “I can’t believe we fucked outside his house.”

“Hey, inside his bathroom would’ve been worse,” Bakugou scoffed, “You’re so fuckin’ noisy.”

“That’s not my fault,” You attempted to glare at him as you furrowed your brows. Causing Bakugou to lean down and kiss you on the scrunch between your nose with a grin, “You’re the one that practically jumped me.”

“Then you shouldn’t look like such a hot mama,” Bakugou deadpanned, finally pulling out of your quivering walls as he watched strings of your combined slick break off and stick to your skin uncomfortably, “You stay there and I’ll drive us home, yeah?”

“I can’t stay like this on the drive home,” You whined when Bakugou buckled his pants with a grin, opening the back door to make his way into the drivers seat.

“Yeah you can, sweetheart,” He laughed, “It’ll take better in that position.”

You pulled your panties back up your thighs as Bakugou watched shamelessly, his crimson eyes focused on where his release was now drooling out of your quivering walls.

“I’m not letting you drive me home like this,” You pouted as you climbed out of the back seat on shaky legs, clinging to Bakugou’s arms as he helped to guide you into the passengers side. Allowing some welcome air into the steamy car as the windows began to defog, your hands already reaching for the aircon even though the car wasn’t turned on yet.

“Have it your way,” He shrugged with a cocky smirk on his face, “I’ll just fuck more into you when we get home anyway.”

#Bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #tw:breeding #trigger:breeding

3K notes · View notes

bad268 · 5 months ago

Note

I had a thought.... and I don't know if its a good or bad one, so let me know what you think

I was thinking Arvid or Ollie were reader is apart of the royal family (maybe Prince Edwards daughter) and they go to silverstone.

love your writing btw 🙈

Everybody's A Ferrari Fan (Ollie Bearman X Royal! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (it's not bad, i love royal readers <3)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 2027

Summary: Silverstone weekend gets a little more interesting when Ollie learns the reader is a royal.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Silverstone was a spectacle. It always has been, and it always will be. Being part of the royal family meant you were expected to attend. Your older sister wasn’t into the sport, your younger brother found it cool but didn’t care for it, and your parents were just there for appearances. You, however, would go to the race with your grandmother anytime you could, and you found it all fascinating. You were even there to meet Lewis Hamilton on multiple occasions.

Since you were 18 now, you were hoping to convince your family to let you go alone. You promised to uphold all of the normal obligations they would do. It did not take nearly as much convincing since they had more pressing royal duties related to your grandfather to attend to. They let you, as long as you behaved. No problem there!

When the day finally came, you walked down the pitlane with a few of your guards. Despite wanting to support your favorite teams, it was against your dress code. You could not have any logos, so you hid a few bracelets under your sleeves. You also had a few extras in case you met some new friends or drivers.

Yesterday was Friday, so there was not much for you to do on track. You just visited with some of the British drivers. You met with Lewis again. He introduced you to George and Lando, and when you met Lando, he introduced you to Oscar.

“Did you know I’m 1/16 British?” Oscar joked. It was something you had seen, and it was funny to see it play out in front of you.

“No way!” You joked back. “Maybe we’ll find out you're related to the royal family!”

“Oh don’t tell him that!” Lando groaned, immediately walking away. He walked over to Andrea, and you saw them having a discussion before looking over to you and Oscar.

“I guess that’s my queue to leave,” You sighed as you moved to head out of the garage. “Good luck in the sessions today, and if I don’t see you for the rest of the weekend, good luck in the race.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Oscar responded with a bow as you left. You had a few minutes before your guards were meant to take you up to the viewing box, but you were interested in meeting some of the Formula 2 and Formula 3 drivers.

You sent a quick text to your head guard where you were going before sneaking off to a bathroom. You changed into some Ferrari merch you bought because everyone is a Ferrari fan and put on a mask, so no one would recognize you. You threw on a hat to cover up your hair and sunglasses to hide your face before taking off toward the support paddock.

Given that free practice 1 was starting, there was not a lot of traffic in the support paddock, so you were able to walk freely between trailers. Since there weren’t a lot of people there, you pulled the mask down. You looked around in awe of everything. Maybe you were distracted by everything, but it did not take long for you to run into someone. A tall boy around your age immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you from falling down. Your hands grasped at his shoulders in shock as you looked up at him.

“I am so sorry,” You said after a beat, still in too much shock to move, but he didn’t move either.

“Don’t mention it,” He responds before helping you stand up straight. He glanced down and took note of your attire. “Ferrari fan?”

“Isn’t everyone?” You joked, gesturing to his shirt. “Where did you get that? It looks like one of the team kits! Either that or it’s a really good knockoff.”

“No, it’s official,” He chuckled as he blushed. Your eyes widened as your jaw dropped, realizing he was a driver. “I’m in the Ferrari Driver Academy, but I race in F2. My name is Ollie.”

“Y/n,” You responded in awe. “Wait, Ollie as in Ollie Bearman? You made your F1 debut this year and you swept Baku last year, right?”

“Yeah,” He said bashfully as he looked anywhere but at you.

“Well, first off, congrats,” You praised, “Second, are you excited for qualifying? That’s happening later today right?”

“Yeah, it’s in a couple of hours, and I love Silverstone,” Ollie started. “I love racing in front of my home crowd and I think I have a good chance to win or podium at least. I topped practice, so I’m confident we’ll have the speed to be at the top.”

“I have full confidence you will do your country proud,” You smiled as you heard him rant. It was nice to hear someone so passionate about winning in front of their home country. Then you realized you were probably keeping him from something. “Oh, I should probably leave you to whatever you were going to do before. I’m sorry for holding you up and running into you.”

“I was just heading to my garage if you want to come with me,” Ollie offered, holding out his hand for you. “I can get you in a good spot to watch the race.”

“Only if I can sit in your car,” You giggled as you took his hand and followed him to the Prema trailer. That’s where you stayed on Friday. You sent update texts to your guards every 30 minutes, so they wouldn’t come looking for you. Even then, that didn’t stop them from trying to find you. They couldn’t.

You made sure to tell Ollie you would see him on Saturday, and that you would be supporting him. You got his number, promising to text him when you got to the track. You left the Prema garage and changed back to your original outfit. You hid the clothes back in your bag along with the mask before finding your guards and leaving for the night.

Saturday morning, you went to the track super early. You wanted to go to the Prema garage again, but everything was stacked against you. Well, not exactly.

You wanted to separate from your guards, but it seemed virtually impossible. Thankfully, they trusted Lewis, so when Lewis and Toto decided to watch the F2 sprint from the Prema garage in support of Kimi, you asked to join them. You were allowed to, but the guards would be outside of the garage the whole time. Once you three got into the garage, you pulled Lewis aside.

“If I change out of this, will you say anything?” You whispered, pulling Lewis down a hall. You were always close with Lewis, and you knew he would vouch for you. “I just want to enjoy the race as a spectator.”

“Yeah, I’ll even cover for you,” Lewis said as he pointed toward the bathroom. You ran over to change back into your Ferrari outfit and put the mask, hat, and sunglasses back on before returning to Lewis. “Ferrari merch? Really? What happened to Mercedes?”

“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan,” You chuckled again, “And you’re going to be in Ferrari next year. I’m just ahead of the curve.”

“Are you sure it’s not because a certain Ferrari driver caught your eye?” Lewis teased as you walked toward the pitlane. Since there were no guards, you were free to let loose a little.

“Oh Lewis, I see you’ve met my new friend!” A new voice joined as you two stepped outside of the garage. It was Ollie preparing for the sprint race.

“Oh, not who I thought,” Lewis said to himself as he turned and walked over to Toto and Kimi. Just before he got too far away, he turned around and shouted, “Good luck getting your parents’ approval!”

“What was that about?” Ollie asked as he walked up behind you.

“My parents are hard to please, and Lewis reads me better than I read myself,” You chuckled almost to yourself, but Ollie heard it.

“What do you mean about Lewis knowing you? How do you even know Lewis?” Ollie retorted as you both walked around his car. “Before you get into that, did you still want to sit in the car?”

“Yes, please!” You replied enthusiastically as you took his hand. He helped you get into the car before handing you the steering wheel, so you could have the full experience. You turned the wheel a few times, jokingly making car noises as you did so, causing both of you to laugh. “This is so cool and bigger than I imagined.”

“Could be because I’m taller than you,” Ollie answered offhandedly, leaning over the halo.

“Ollie, I loved hanging out with you yesterday. It was so fun to just be a normal person, doing normal people things for a day,” You started, looking up at him.

“Well, I don’t think this is considered ‘normal people things’, but okay,” Ollie chuckled, not understanding where you were going with this.

“It's more normal than I’m used to,” You chuckled as well. “Ollie, does my name ring any bells to you?”

“Not that I can think of,” Ollie trailed off, confused. “Should I?”

“Should you? Maybe. Do I want you to? No,” You admitted, looking back at the steering wheel. “Ollie, I like being with you, and I want to explore something with you. I’m just afraid when you find out who I am, you’ll leave. Everyone always does.”

“I won’t leave,” Ollie said immediately. “Anyone would be a fool to leave you because I’ve enjoyed being with you too. You’re fun to be around, and you make me feel like a normal teenager and not Ollie Bearman, the F2 driver.”

“And you make me feel like a normal teenager and not Lord/Lady Y/n Windsor, heir to the British throne,” You whispered back, shyly looking up at him. His jaw was dropped, but as soon as you made eye contact, he snapped his mouth closed. “Does that intimidate you?”

“Not really,” He tried to play off, but you saw straight through him as you gazed at him through your lashes. “Okay, a little, but so what? It’s only a little scary, but I’m willing to work for it.”

“Even if it means proving yourself to the Prince Edward and the Dutchess Sophie of Edinburgh?” You were afraid of the answer, but his response shocked you.

“I ready to work for it,” Ollie said immediately. “They’re Ferrari fans right?”

“They don’t really care about F1,” You chuckled. “They couldn’t care less, so you’ve got that going for you. They’ll probably appreciate that you’re British.”

“At least my nationality is benefiting me,” Ollie joked, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “At least I have that going for me.”

“And if you know any other languages, that might help,” You joked back. “They like multilingual people.”

“And luckily, I have to speak Italian to be in Ferrari and Prema,” Ollie quipped back quickly. “I also live in Italy, so it would be hard not to know the language.”

“Hate to break up a possible love story here, but Ollie needs to get in the car,” Lewis interrupted, and that’s when you noticed the mass amount of people staring at you. “He does still have a race to do.”

“I guess I can get out then,” You chuckled as Ollie helped you out of the car. He kept his arms around your waist as he steadied you on the ground. You pulled the mask down momentarily to place a short kiss on his cheek before whispering, “Good luck out there. I expect to see you on the top step.”

“I’ll try my best, but I’m starting 10th,” Ollie whispered back with a smile. “One of the cons of being on pole for the feature.”

“I’ll be manifesting for you to pull a Baku sweep again,” You said as you pulled away to stand by Lewis. You and Lewis walked over to the pit wall as the cars went out to the grid. Hopefully, Ollie could win this weekend.

~~~~~

#ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman #ollie x reader #oliver bearman #oliver bearman x reader #formula 2 x reader #f2 #formula 2 imagine #f3 #formula 3 #f1 x reader #prema racing #bad268 #ship268 #thing268 #ferarri f1

478 notes · View notes

mekochansblog · 3 months ago

Text

Missed me?

Five Hargreeves x reader

You were walking around the house, who’s house you didn’t know. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your husband. You don’t remember how you got here, but you do remember seeing a bright light the last time you closed your eyes. You remember waking up and you were surrounded with a beautiful house and an amazing view. Also two kids, whose kids? You got a clue that they were yours, since they did look like you and your husband. It felt like time didn’t move here. Everyday felt like a blessing to you. With your kids and doing things you couldn't, it was fun. You went towards the kitchen and started making lunch for you and your children when all out of sudden you heard a crash. You jumped in fright and ran towards the crash, you heard your kid screaming for you. You panicked more and ran faster. You skidded and almost crashed into a desk and panted and looked around in panic. Your oldest son Eugene looked at you with panic. His emerald eyes widening at the sight of two men fighting. You waved your hand at Eugene letting him know to not involve himself with whoever it was that was fighting. You somehow were able to seperate the two men. Once you did you saw their faces. Your eyes widened at the lanky man and a bulk man?

“Who are you guys?” you whisper.

The men stopped fighting and looked at you. They looked at you confused. Not knowing why you were here when they haven’t met another person that also interacted. Eugene came from where he was hiding and put a protective hand around you. That’s when the two men saw Eugene. He resembled Five so much. Looked like him too.

“Five?” they said in synch.

Your eyebrows furrowed hearing your husband’s name. You turned to look at your son and realize why they said your husband’s name. You were about to correct them when the lanky man walked slowly towards Eugene.

“F…Five how did you…. Did dad kill you too?” He gasped out.

You blink your eyes multiple times at what he said. Hold up what? What is going on that he said that to your son. You stood in front of the lanky man and lightly pushed him away from your son.

“How did you..I.. I don’t know who you are but his name is Eugene Hargreeves…he’s my son….. His father is Five Hargreeves…” You murmur, scared that this person knew your husband.

The lanky person looks at you and then at Eugene, he does a double take and then lets out a breathy laugh clapping his hands. You looked at him like he was deranged not knowing what was happening. You looked at the other guy and he just smiled at you awkwardly. You give him a weak smile. The muscle man then lets you know where you are. You passed away, in the apocalypse in the arms of the man that had your heart. Your eyes blinked, you shook your head, your eyes started to tear up. You didn’t want to believe it. He was lying. You were alive and living. You were living with your two kids. Your 15 year old son and your 6 year old daughter. You covered your mouth to stop the sobs that were about to come out. Your knees buckled and your son held you before you actually fell down on the ground.

It was a lie.

This life was a lie.

You were dead.

Your kids weren’t real.

This felt like a nightmare.

You finally let out a sob. You shook your head and with your head trembling you banged on the floor with your fists. Your son held you and grabbed your hands. You wanted to push him away but how could you. He was still your son whether it was real or not. You raised him. He was here in this world when you got here too. He was just an infant and you raised him. He was your son whether it was all a hallucination or not. You looked at the lanky man and with a trembling voice you asked.

“Who… who are you?”

The lanky man looked at you and then looked at the big buff guy. They had a silent discussion with each other but then the buff guys looked at you and bent down to your height. He gave you a nervous smile and with one last look at the lanky man he put out a hand out for you to shake.

“My name is Luther and this here is Klaus we are… Well, Five is our brother.”

You stared at them. You knew trying to look for a resemblance was futile due to Five being adopted. You knew it was also useless asking them questions about your husband. Well unless they have been with him for the past who knows how many years you have been here, but it wouldn't hurt to ask still.

“How… How is he? Has he been eating? Taking care of himself? Did he save you guys from the apocalypse?”

You fired out questions. You knew you needed answers. You wanted to know how your husband was after you passed away. Who knows how his mind worked when you passed away. Klaus looked at Luther and he let out a nervous laugh. Oh great he was doing a shit job at taking care of himself, you thought. You put a hand out to stop him before he told you how he was and quickly ran towards your room to change. You looked in your closet for some clothes that will be comfortable to fight and move around. You glanced at an eggshell white puffy shirt. It had ruffles on the neck and it was a shirt that was thin so you wouldn't get hot easily. You quickly grabbed it and put it on while you looked to see what bottoms would go with it. You saw a black skirt that went all the way to a bit past your knees. It was snuggled on the waist but became flare at the end. You held it up a bit to put on a knife holster and a gun one. You didn't know what would happen but you wanted to be safe. You then froze. What about your children?

What would happen to them if you decided to go with your brothers-in-law? Will they still exist? Will they disappear once you leave? That's it you can leave with them. You close your eyes and with a shaky sigh put on some knee high socks and small 3 inch heel boots. You let out a deep breath and headed to where your family was. Klaus glanced at you and blinked his eyes. You looked ready to murder. Maybe that's why Five was so in love with you. He did describe you as someone that was strong and skilled when they both went on that crazy adventure to find his mother. Luther stared at you and then gave you a nervous smile worried on his eyes.

“Are you sure you want to go in a skirt if we could take you?”

You looked at him up and down.

“I could tear you apart if I wanted. Don't test my limits just because of a lousy skirt.”

You remarked. Luther blinked multiple times and just nodded his head slowly. Eugene came holding Evangeline and gave you a soft smile. Coming to hug you and give you a peck on the cheek. Your smile was watery while you hugged your kids tight. You gave each a kiss on the forehead how you used to do every time you put them to bed.

“Los amo demasiado. Los volveré a ver en el futuro. Okay take care of each other.”

You whimpered. Trying not to cry but a small tear fell. You then gave them another kiss and turned towards Klaus and Luther, but you only saw Luther standing them crying. You gave him a confused look and tried to look around hoping to see your other brother-in-law. When you got close to Luther you questioned him.

“Where’s Klaus?”

Luther looked at you and held your hand. You took one last glance at your kids and they waved at you while all you did was blow them a small kiss. Luther then let you know that Klaus can come back from the dead and was probably back with the family. You nodded your head and then started walking with him. Where? You don't know and don't ask, just let him guide you. He started asking questions about how life was here in the afterlife. You responded to the questions. You weren’t going to lie, you did love it here, it was peaceful, no apocalypse and you had your kids, but you did tell him you miss Five. After walking for a while you saw that Luther was flickering. You grew worried and panic started to settle into your body. You were scared he was leaving you.

Out of nowhere he did dissapear. That's when you full blown panic. You walked around not too far from where he disappeared. You screamed out his name, you started gasping and tried to catch your breath but nothing. Out of nowhere luther falls from the sky and falls with a big thump. You froze and just stared at him.

“Did they kill you again? Does your family not like you or what?”

You confusedly questioned him. All he did was groan and you hesitantly let out a hand to try to help him up. Which was a bad mistake due to him putting all his weight and making you fall also. He mumbled an apology and you just shook your head at him. You fidgeted with your fingers and looked at him expecting for him to tell you what happened. When he was about to tell you an elevator suddenly appeared out of nowhere. You both glanced at each other and held out his arm for you to hold. You gave him a small nod and held it. You both walked in and the elevator doors closed.

You both were blinded with a bright light, but it all faded when the doors opened. First Luther took cautious steps and he nodded his head for you to also take some steps out of the elevator. You took slow steps and looked around. You saw more people turn around and then that's when you saw him. Your husband.

“F…Five?”

Five turned around and his eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed like a fish and he just stared at you. His eyes got teary and his lips trembled, but he pursed his lips together in case he let out a sob. You slowly walked towards him and you blink fast but your face was already sticky from the silent tears that were slowly falling down your eyes. Five started to walk towards you until he was in front of you and he grabbed you so fast and held you. That's when you heard him break down. Your husband, the one person you know that will always put his walls up from everyone, was crying. Five was so relieved, he left like he hasn't seen you since forever, when in reality it's been around 2 months. He breathed in your smell and he let out a teary laugh. He touched you everywhere hoping he wasn't dreaming.

“You.. i.. I can… where… you..”

He sobbed. He couldn't let out a sentence without being a blubbering mess. You smiled fondly and held his cheek.

“Shh, shh i know i'm here. I miss you so much amor.”

You quietly cried out. He let out another teary laugh this one with so much emotion. His siblings stared at his brother and the woman. The person he was showing so much affection and love towards. Klaus smiled tearily and pulled al his siblings aside. Five looked at you and finally gave you a meaningful and loving kiss. One you found yourself lost in.

“Thats Five’s wife.”

He mumbled quietly to not disturbed the sweet and long moment he knew his brother deserved.

This is what you needed.

Your husband.

The love of your life.

Your soulmate.

Five finally kissed you and you sighed in bliss. You finally were in your husband arms again.

263 notes · View notes

summerclementine27 · 4 months ago

Text

Meet Me in The Hallway🌷pt. 1

summary: Mr. Styles has possibly interested Y/N more than his literature classes and she finds herself pining for him over the months.

pairings: professor!harry, student!reader

warnings: small age difference, mentions of smut

word count: 4.7k

note: i wanted to make this one part but it will be too long so there will have to be a part 2

part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/summerclementine27/757559698881986560/meet-me-in-the-hallway-pt2

Tender days of mid-October

As I took my seat in the large lecture hall, a sense of anticipation loomed over me. Today, Mr. Styles was giving us the results of the last literature and theory criticism coursework I had handed in the previous week. This was my third class with him, one of two this school year, the other being Contemporary Literature. Last year, he taught me Introduction to Literature, a mandatory class for my degree. Though I dreaded it at first due to his choice of reading list, I ended up falling in love with the course because of the way he taught it. Some works I initially criticized him for choosing, he ended up using as examples and critiqued them himself, like "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin. Plus, it helped that he was impossibly handsome with his tall frame, tousled brown hair, and piercing green eyes.

When my friends noticed how much I liked his class, they were unfazed. However, as I became somewhat of a teacher’s pet in a class rudimentary compared to the others I took this year—such as Feminism and Literature, Historical Narratives in Fiction, and Postcolonial Literary Criticism—they realized that maybe the tall, green-eyed man was what had really piqued my interest, not discussing "Middlemarch" for four classes.

On days when I had his class, I dressed extra nicely, sometimes even daring to pair a clean collared shirt with a shorter-than-usual skirt. One time, I even left my wool trench coat on during the first period and stood up from my auditorium seat to take it off. Sitting in the back, the rows of chairs likely covered the lower part of my body, but I was sure the space between my long boots and short skirt was visible from his vantage point. Surely, my abrupt standing would grab his attention. What I didn’t anticipate was him pausing in the middle of a long train of thought to stare, then quickly catching himself and stuttering before continuing seamlessly as I knew he would. My friend Anika, seated in one of the front rows, noticed and turned to see what had caught his attention. To her dismay, I was playing games with someone totally unattainable again. But she knew I thrived on academic validation, and this little crush of mine would only drive me to excel in more classes.

"Are you serious, Y/N? He's our professor." she exclaimed once.

"I know, but he's just... different."

"Different? Or is it the way he looks at you when you answer a question?"

"Maybe both. Besides, this crush is making me work harder. You can't argue with the results."

"Just be careful. I don't want you getting hurt."

In fact, it drove me to do more than that. One time, Mr. Styles noticed my passion for poetry after I shamelessly defended the works of Sylvia Plath with a controversial view that modern poetry should not shy away from the stark realities of mental health. He gave me a few poetry anthologies and compilations, including his annotated copies. I fawned over reading his notes and even emailed him once, pretending that I had "accidentally" annotated something, forgetting it wasn’t my own copy after losing myself in the literature. He replied kindly:

Mr. Styles: "Please, feel free to annotate as much as you like. I would be honored to have your opinions inked on my favorite copies."

By the next semester, after encouraging me to join the poetry society, Mr. Styles nominated me for president, and I was thrilled to win. He insisted on celebrating, gently grasping my upper arm and smiling warmly as he said he expected nothing less. I brought a bottle of wine to his office, where he had asked me to meet him, only to find the entire poetry society there, ready to congratulate me. The gathering lingered for a few delightful hours before everyone left, leaving just the two of us to clean up.

"You really impressed everyone tonight, Y/N. Not that I'm surprised." He began once we were truly all alone.

"Thank you, Mr. Styles. I couldn't have done it without your support."

"Well, you deserve it. By the way, outside of class and school hours, you can call me Harry." He said in his thick Manchester accent.

"Only if you stop calling me Ms. Y/L/N." I joked.

"Hey! I only do that sometimes. Plus, I can't call out to you in class like, 'Y/N, will you read the next slide?' People will think..."

"...think I’m the teacher’s favorite?" I finished his sentence with a teasing smile.

I couldn’t take the lingering stares and supposedly accidental touches we were both guilty of. But I knew that if I really wanted this, if I wanted to be more than just a student he regretted being tempted by when I graduated, then I had to play the long game.

And indeed I did. I kept up my habit of always showing up well-dressed in elegant coats and well-fitting clothing. I accentuated my features with a light coat of makeup, even if I had to apply it on a bumpy bus ride to campus. I even signed up for his office hours, despite really not needing them, just to exchange thoughts and opinions under the guise of “wanting to make sure I'm on the right track.” I wanted him to get to know me more, to realize that despite my youth, I was mature and thoughtful.

At the start of the second year, he emailed me to come to campus a few times in August, a month before the start of term, to discuss my responsibilities as the founder of the debate team. The idea sparked in his mind after I excelled in the heated debate he chose to hold as our first-year final assessment. He was so in awe that he went as far as saying I could compete at a national level on the English debate team, which neither of us was certain of, but I accepted the compliment.

Our earlier meetings were spent cooped up in his office, reviewing why the last debate team failed almost a decade ago and planning the structure for the new team. We discussed everything from team dynamics to potential debate topics, ensuring we were prepared for any challenge.

On one of the hotter days in August, we took our meeting to the university courtyard, having grown tired of experiencing the last bursts of England’s so-called summer from his office window. It was a beautiful window, and a big one at that, but it didn’t compare to actually being outside. That day, I realized the majority of planning for the next few months had already been accomplished in our first few meetings, and I got the hint that he didn’t actually need my help now that I had settled everything I could that wasn’t on an administrative level. So naturally, I decided to have a little fun.

I was wearing penny loafers with black tailored pants that I got fitted for when I visited my mum in London in July. I had paired them with a light knit sweater that fit slightly loosely over my shoulders, often falling down to reveal a collarbone. When I saw him take off his blazer and loosen his tie, I took that as my green light to take off something of my own, knowing I was wearing a neat white tank top underneath. As I slipped the sweater off, covering my face with the fabric, I could see his face through the thin material, making out his features and briefly noticing his eyes on my body. Sitting up straight, I managed to remove the sweater from over my head neatly. Once he saw my face, a soft blush made it to his own.

"Did I mess up my hair?" I asked, as if I hadn’t planned on brushing down the strands that had likely gone astray or as if I was oblivious to the fact that I had just taken off my sweater in front of him.

"Um, yeah, a bit at the top," he said, chuckling as if he wasn’t just clearing his throat in a flustered manner before my face was revealed from under the sweater.

To my surprise, he reached out, inching himself closer to where I was sitting on the bench we shared. With two fingers, his index and middle, he gently brushed down the messy hair on either side of the top of my head.

"Thank you, Harry," I said softly.

However, nothing could have prepared me for what would happen later this year.

As the class settled down to receive their marks on the literature and theory criticism coursework, Mr. Styles walked in, dressed in a well-fitted navy suit with a crisp white shirt. He took off his coat and placed it on the edge of his desk, a departure from his usual habit of draping it over the back of his chair. He wasted no time before pulling out the papers from his leather satchel and making his way down the aisles of the lecture hall, passing out the papers to everyone. When he read out my name, I watched as his eyes searched for me across the hall, darting from one side of the room to the other. It was unlike me to skip his class, so he knew all he had to do was find me. I hadn’t planned this specific event, but I enjoyed it, nonetheless. Once he found me, he smiled sheepishly, yet much more subtly than he did when we were alone and made his way to me.

"Excellent work, Y/L/N," he said as he gently placed the papers on my desk. "I especially appreciate the effort of handwriting this," he remarked, although everyone knew he didn’t care if papers were written by hand or typed on a computer.

I had deliberately written my paper by hand after he replied to an email of mine. I had thanked him for letting me borrow his books, and his response was a charming note saying he’d enjoyed reading my annotations and adored my handwriting. For once, I was glad that my all-girls school had emphasized cursive writing, as I used it to add a romantic touch to my work.

When I finally read his comments and feedback, I was met with admiration and praise. In one of the margins, he had written, “Your insights are so compelling, it’s impossible not to fall in love with your analysis.” On the final page, at the bottom, he had added, “It’s a privilege to be your professor. Your brilliance shines so brightly that it’s clear this paper is a testament to your exceptional talent.”

Often times I worried that there actually was something going on between us, and that his praise and charming were remarks were not that of a proud professor, but of an infatuated man instead. So that day, I decided to address it.

As the lecture drew to a close, I lingered in my seat, carefully packing up my belongings with deliberate slowness. The classroom slowly emptied, the murmur of students’ conversations fading into the background as they made their way out. I wanted to be alone with Mr. Styles, to discuss something that had been weighing on my mind. By the time I made my way down the row of seats to his desk, the room was empty except for the two of us.

“Mr. Styles,” I began hesitantly, catching his eye as he gathered his papers. “I was hoping to ask you something.”

He looked up, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Of course, go ahead. I’m actually glad you stayed behind. There’s something I’d like to ask you as well.”

A sudden rush of anxiety gripped me. The possibility of crossing a line—whether I had done so with my subtle flirtations or if he were about to make a move that could alter our dynamic—was almost too much to bear.

My fantasies of him flashed through my mind. I had dreamt of intimate moments with him like kissing him, waking up in his bed, or better yet, on the couch in his office after a late romantic night together. I had once pictured us sitting on the floor around his small coffee table as we did one time when they ordered takeout during one of our August meetings except this time I would slip my shoes off casually and find a way to stroke my foot, clothed thin leggings, against his leg, looking at him with doe eyes as I dare to not so innocently asks if he ever thought about me sexually.

Hell, I even pictured him going down on me after laying me on his desk and even touched myself to the idea of riding him while he sat on his office chair. I would sneak into the small space between him and his desk and shut off his laptop while he graded my papers, cockily saying “We already know I got an A” – despite my crippling self-doubt without tangible affirmation – as I sit on his lap. In this fantasy he would laugh at my remark and gladly embrace me with a hand on my ass, the other intertwined among thick locks of my long hair, messing it up as I teasingly kiss him, ever so aware of the friction I’m creating between our crotches.

But still, to think that he would propose something to me in that moment, sexual or romantic, casually after class as if I haven’t been pining for two Octobers made me incredibly nervous.

I cleared my throat, trying to steady my voice as I met his gaze. “Mr. Styles, well, first of all this has nothing to do with the actual course itself, maybe a bit but...” I trailed off “It’s... it’s been on my mind for a while.”

He raised an eyebrow, curiosity evident in his expression. “Sure, go ahead. I’m happy to answer anything.” He smiled shyly to comfort me.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding as I prepared to voice my concerns. “Do you think that maybe my behavior in class, my enthusiasm, or even my approach to your feedback has influenced you to… um… maybe to favor me? Over other students I mean.” I began nervously, desperately searching for an expression on his blank face.

“Maybe sometimes I get a little excited and forget that you are my professor and not my friend or something, I think I may have overstepped my boundaries but… but you treat me as an equal which, by the way, I have always greatly appreciated. I mean, it has offered me an opportunity to grow as a student like no other, but I still worry…”I trailed off, now a stern look evident on his face and possibly even hurt.

He paused for a moment, his gaze thoughtful as he considered my words. “I appreciate your honesty and self-awareness,” he said finally, his voice steady but soft. “It’s clear that you’re passionate and dedicated, and I value that. But it’s important to remember that I strive to maintain fairness in all my interactions with students.”

I bit my lip, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. “I understand, Mr. Styles. I just want to make sure that if I take pride in these academic accomplishments… if I want to revel in the fact that I always receive praise from you and rarely any criticism – like todays feedback for example, which included no criticism, I want to make sure it is because I am worthy of it. And not because I won you over by involving myself in your extracurriculars or because we are… uh.. friendly.”

He looked at me with a reassuring smile, his gaze steady and sincere. “First of all, let me assure you that you are never inappropriate. The friendship we’ve developed is separate from our academic interactions. Outside of school hours, I call you by your first name to maintain that distinction. In the classroom, I evaluate you purely on your merit.”

He leaned forward slightly, his tone earnest. “The reason your feedback today contained no criticism is that your paper was truly flawless. If there had been any weaknesses or areas for improvement, I would have pointed them out without hesitation. I hold you in very high regard academically, and that respect extends to all aspects of your work. If I ever notice any shortcomings, I will address them so you have the opportunity to refine and grow.”

His expression softened, a touch of concern in his eyes. “The only issue I see here is that you are doubting yourself. Your achievements and the praise you receive are well-deserved. You have a remarkable ability, and I believe in your potential. My only hope is that you start to see in yourself what I see in you – a brilliant, dedicated student who deserves every bit of recognition they receive.”

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief and a renewed confidence. When I looked down at my lap I heard him continue:

“And of course I value the relationship we have fostered outside of class. Would I be the man I am today if you hadn’t introduced me to the wonders of Moroccan cuisine?” He tried to joke to ease the tension and unsurprisingly it worked as it earned him a soft chuckle of honest amusement.

“Theres the y/n I know and love” he bantered though I cant say my heart didn’t skip a beat at the mention of the word “love”.

“You know, there are many other cuisines you’re yet to try,” I said with a playful glint in my eye. “For someone who’s so well-traveled and cultured, it’s surprising how much you’ve missed out on when it comes to food.” I teased.

“Well, perhaps you’ll tell me all about it when we’re in Amsterdam for the debate competition,” he said with a smile, his eyes twinkling with genuine excitement.

I blinked, momentarily stunned. “Wait, what? You secured that for us?” My voice wavered slightly as my heart leaped with joy. “I can’t believe it! I’m so excited. This is incredible news!”

He chuckled, clearly pleased with my reaction. “I thought you’d like that. It’s an excellent opportunity, and I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it.”

I couldn’t help but beam, my excitement bubbling over. “This is amazing, truly. Thank you so much!” I stepped closer, touched by his thoughtfulness and dedication.

As I reached out, our hands brushed briefly, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver through me. His gaze softened, and I could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m just glad we get to share this experience together,” he said softly.

The moment felt charged, filled with unspoken words and mutual appreciation. I nodded, my heart full of gratitude and warmth. “Me too,” I murmured, feeling the depth of our connection more than ever before.

Time jump – December is getting ready for Christmas.

As we stepped into the hotel lobby, the excitement was palpable among the debate team. Amsterdam was already charming me, even though I’d only glimpsed it through the bus window. The streets were lined with picturesque canals and quaint buildings, each one more enchanting than the last. I couldn’t help but talk animatedly about how I’d dreamed of visiting the Netherlands ever since my father told me stories about the blooming flower fields when I was a child.

Harry, who had been sitting beside me on the bus, watched with a fond smile. “You really seem to love the city,” he said. “Maybe we could find a couple of free days between the training and the competition to visit the flower fields.”

My eyes widened in delight. “Really? That would be incredible. But managing a whole field trip with the debate team might be a bit complicated.”

He grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Well, we could go alone. Just you and me. A little escape from the team.” He added. “We could explore some other things too if we’d like.”

The thought of spending time alone with him, wandering through a sea of flowers, made my heart race. I felt a warm blush creep up my cheeks. “That sounds amazing. I’d love that.”

When we checked into the hotel and were given our room keys, Anika, my vice president, and I realized that Harry and I had rooms on a separate floor. In fact, they were deluxe rooms though him and I booked standard rooms for everyone when we went over the budget. Anika seemed particularly perplexed by this.

“Why did you get such a nice room and I didn’t?” Anika questioned, her tone tinged with curiosity as she approached me in the lobby.

I shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Maybe Mr. Styles thought I needed a little extra comfort. You know, as president” I joked, not really sure if that was the case. “Besides, he probably just had to make decisions based on what was available.” I found myself lying, knowing I was curious myself.”

Anika raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe he’s using the budget money to splurge on you. I’ve noticed you two have become quite friendly. Could it be that he has a thing for you?” she teased, knowing I have spent months pining and flirting.

I laughed, shaking my head. “I don’t think so, Anika. We’re friends, and that’s all it is. I don’t think he feels anything else.” I said, confidant of my words for the first time in this conversation. “Plus, you are the only person other than me and Harry that got her own room. Others are sharing and you likely have a king bed all to yourself.”

“Harry? Is that his name now?” she smirked. “I guess you forgot to tell me you are on a first name basis. Are you holding out on me Y/L/N?” she joked though she was never oblivious to the fact that you kept some encounters with Harry to yourself, as if it would fuel the fantasy somehow.

I raised an eyebrow and gave her a playful grin. “Oh, come on. You have to admit everyone in the poetry society calls him that when we are outside the university.” I said, knowing that it was only one guy who was a family friend of Harry’s who got the honor.

She chuckled, but there was a hint of curiosity in her gaze. “Right. But you can’t deny there’s something a bit… special about how you two interact. Just saying.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not holding my breath for anything more on this trip. We’re here for the debate, remember? That’s the focus. But if anything happens later…” I shrugged playfully as she returned my knowing smile.

“Fair enough. Just keep your eyes open anyway, okay? Sometimes things happen when you least expect them to.”

I heard Harry calling my name from the end of the hall. I turned around to see him walking towards me with a thoughtful expression.

“Hey, do you still want to gather the debate team for a brief practice session before the afternoon debate?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of concern.

I shook my head, smiling. “No, no need. You were right; they need a break. Plus, everyone has their notecards and seems prepared.”

Harry nodded, his smile relaxing into a satisfied grin. “Alright then. Let’s head to the elevator; it’ll be a bit quieter now anyway.”

We walked to the elevator together, and once inside, he pressed the button for my floor. The confined space seemed to amplify the gentle hum of the elevator, making it feel intimate.

Harry glanced at me with a soft smile, his eyes lingering a moment longer than usual. “Your hair looks different today. Did you do something special with it?” he asked, his voice carrying a playful undertone.

I felt a tinge of embarrassment, my cheeks warming slightly. “I just blow-dried it differently since I was in a rush this morning,” I replied, trying to sound casual.

Harry’s smile grew, his eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and something else I couldn’t quite place. “Well, it looks beautiful. I wouldn’t have guessed it was rushed.”

His compliment made my heart flutter, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Harry. That makes me feel a lot better about this hectic morning” I tried to divert the conversation, feeling nervous at his focus on me.

“Yeah, well, at least you have matching socks,” he joked, and before I could ask him what the hell he was talking about, he lifted his foot, revealing his own mismatched socks with a playful grin.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You and your accidental fashion choices,” I said, shaking my head with a smile, remembering that time I complimented his shoes only to find out he ordered the wrong ones online and couldn’t get them returned. He looked handsome in them anyway, I had told him.

He shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting. And besides, it’s a good thing someone’s got their fashion game on point around here.” He said, brushing off the fact that it was a rushed accident.

I playfully nudged him. “Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. And for the record, I do have matching socks today, just in case you were wondering.”

Harry’s eyes softened as he looked at me, a warmth in his gaze that made my heart flutter. “Well, I must say, your socks are a lot less distracting than mine.”

I chuckled, feeling the tension between us ease into something more comfortable and light-hearted.

As the elevator chimed and the doors slid open to my floor, Harry didn’t make a move to exit. Instead, he turned to me with a charming grin, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “Let me walk you to your room. It’s the least I can do. After all, it’s not every day I get to be a gentleman,” he said, completely ignoring the fact that his room was directly across from the elevator.

I laughed softly, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You’re too kind, Harry. It’s just down the hall here,” I said, gesturing toward my door, which was a short distance away from his.

As we walked together down the hallway, the atmosphere felt lighter, filled with a quiet, pleasant tension. Harry’s presence beside me was comforting, and I found myself appreciating the little things—like how he occasionally glanced my way, as if trying to make the moment last just a bit longer.

When we reached my door, Harry reached out and brushed his hand lightly against mine as he opened the door for me. “Even so, a little extra time with you—well, when else can I talk about my accidental shenanigans and have someone listen intently?” His voice was low and warm, and his gaze lingered on me with an intensity that sent a thrill down my spine.

I felt a flutter in my chest at his words but remained blissfully unaware of the deeper implications behind his gaze. “Well,” I said, smiling as I unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Thanks for walking me. It’s always nice to have a bit of company, especially when the company is as pleasant as yours.”

Harry’s smile grew softer, and he took a step back, still holding my gaze. “Anytime, y/n. I’ll see you in a few hours. Get some rest.

“You too, Harry.” I said as he walked back to his own room.

——————————————————————

PART TWO IS NOW UP 🌷🌷

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles story #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic rec

245 notes · View notes

ash5monster01 · 2 months ago

Note

would you do a reader with Stevie Nicks vibes and she's like spiritual and that sort of things x Steve Harrington.

I don't have any plot ideas so i understand if you won't do it (btw sorry if you can't understand something english is my second language so I struggle a lot with it)

Not What I Expected

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: language, underage drinking, sexual attraction, blatant flirting, some fluff

Summary: Steve it taken by surprise when he discovers how attracted he is to one of Robins friends, especially since you were the kind of girl he never expected to like

word count: 2k

Masterlist

Steve isn’t sure why he agreed to go to a party at Robins house. He imagined something quite like Dustin and his friends playing Dungeons and Dragons in the basement. It was probably more like book club or band practice. Either way Steve knew it wouldn’t include keg stands and girls in tiny tops like his infamous party’s once did. At the end of the day though, Robin was his best friend, and that’s how he finds himself standing outside her front door with a 6pack of beer tucked under his arm and an award winning smile on his face.

“Hey dingus, you showed!” Robin grins wide, eyes a little hazy and a half drank wine cooler in her hands. Steve snorts at the sight and shakes his head as he steps inside the house she hadn’t technically welcomed him into yet.

“And you’re drunk” he states, shimmying the members only jacket off his arms and onto the rack by the door. Robin rolls her eyes at the boy with a big head of hair.

“Barely, come on. Come meet my friends” and Steve doesn’t even have a chance to set down the case of beer as Robin drags him into the living room. He’s not sure who’s more nervous, him or the array of students he was about to meet. To them he was still legend among the halls, King Steve. To himself he was nothing more than a burnout who was working at a Video Store instead of going to college.

“Guys this is Steve, Steve these are my friends” Robin presents when they enter the room and multiple pairs of eyes land on them both. Robin releases his hand and falls onto the couch beside a boy he recognized from the Paper. He had seen Nancy with him a few times.

“Hi” Steve announces with a wave, trying to ignore the awkwardness as he sets the case of beer down on the coffee table. Everyone just stares as he slides a bottle out and pops the top off with ease against the edge of the table. A natural.

“Find a seat Steve, we were just discussing marching band” and Steve groans without a thought, shuffling to the couch on the other side of the room. He had yet to glance at the two girls sat upon it when he hoists himself onto the arm.

“What, to lame for you?” an unfamiliar voice inquires. Steve drops his gaze to the girl beside him and what he doesn’t expect is the way his throat dries. You’re a bigger girl, yeah, but from where he’s sat he has a grand view of the cleavage that hangs out of your black top. It’s as if you hadn’t quite left the 70s, the outfit nearly identical to the one Stevie Nicks wears on the Rumours album. You’re the opposite of any girl he has ever taken on a date, and yet he’s suddenly at a loss of words.

“What Steve means by his vocal distaste is that he listens to me drone on and on all day about marching band. Plus I’m sure he half expected a rowdy game of beer pong” Robin says and Steve finally glances past the girl beside him to spot the infamous Vickie. Suddenly he knew exactly why Robin spoke for him before he did. He didn’t necessarily hate marching band talk, he just never heard the end of ‘Today in Marching band Vickie-’.

“I take offense to that but also any game wouldn’t kill you. Save the yapping for wine night or at least when you’re at school” his statement makes Robin rolls her eyes but nonetheless she sits up. As much as she hates to admit it she did want her small shindig to feel like a real party. Yeah she couldn’t go all out like Steve once did but she could at least make this night memorable for her friends.

“Fine Steve, any suggestions” Vickie asks, an identical wine cooler to Robins cradled to her chest and Steve thinks for a moment.

“Nothing to athletic” the newspaper kid points out. Steve somewhat recalls Ned, maybe Fred?

“Fred, it’s Steve. Everything he does is athletic” the girl beside him pipes up. He doesn’t even have time to recognize he had recalled the boys name correctly when he’s reminded of your presence.

“Thanks Rhiannon, I’ll take that as a compliment. As for you Fred, crack a beer and live a little” Steve says, adoring the way your eyebrows raise at the sudden nickname while he tosses one of his beers to the scrawny boy.

“Does that mean you have a game in mind?” Robin asks her best friend, worrying just a little that mixing these two crowds may have been the wrong choice.

“Yeah Robin, I do”

That’s how the group finds themselves on the back patio, a boom box playing a Survivor song a touch too loud, while Steve sets cups along the table. Robin furrows her eyebrows when she eyes six cups along the table instead of five. Everybody watches silently as the tall boy works at setting up the perfect game.

“Alright me and Rhiannon are Captains, she gets first pick” Steve claps his hands and Robin finally points at the red solo cups sat before them.

“Steve, there’s only five of us” she says and Steve grins at his friend.

“I know, that’s why Rhiannon has first pick. I’ll play double for my team which will put us at disadvantage” Steve tells her and Robin isn’t entirely sure that’s a disadvantage when she looks at the friends surrounding them.

“You know that’s not my name right?” you tell the boy as you stand beside him, prepared to make your first pick.

“Yeah, but I think you love it anyway” and you can’t help the soft blush that dusts your cheeks. You almost want to curse yourself for being no different than any other girl that falls for the charm of Steve Harrington.

“I pick Robin” you announce to remove his attention off you and Robin grins at being the first one picked. Quickly she shuffles to the side of the table you stand on. Steve crosses his arms as he looks between his two options. As much as he can guarantee Vickie is better at the game he wants to provide his best friend the opportunity of standing next to her all night.

“I’ll take Freddie” Steve says, waving his hand. The boy with glasses too big for his face nervously steps over despite the shock that King Steve has just picked him to be on a team. Vickie grins at the girls, rushing over and pulling them into a hug that doesn’t fail to make Robins entire face red.

“The game is simple, finish your drink, flip the cup, and move on to the next person. It’s a relay, and relies on teamwork, think you can handle it?” Steve asks, eyebrows lifting at his opponent who’s even prettier up close. Your eyes are mesmerizing even through the smudged makeup and your wide sleeve brushes the table each time you reach for your cup. Steve is shocked to find how attracted to it he is.

“Me and Rhiannon start, when our cup lands the next person drinks and does the same. Ready?” Steve asks, eyebrows jumping and smirk on his face. You look at him determined, mimicking his movements when he taps his cup to the table, lifts it to your own, taps the table again, then dumps the liquid down his throat.

It’s no surprise to anyone that Steve lands the cup on the first try. It takes you two but Fred’s struggling saves your team the time anyway. Steve is now on his other side, waiting for Fred to land so he can take the final drink. While he struggles both you and Vickie cheer when Robin lands it on her second try. By the time Vickie has finished her gulp, Fred finally lands, and Steve dumps his second drink down his throat as quick as he can. Yet it’s not fast enough because Vickie lands on her first try just as Steve sets up to flip his own. The girls cheer as Fred gives Steve a sheepish look. As much as Steve hates losing he squeezes the boys shoulder anyway.

“Nice work Fred” he praises and a large smile breaks across the boys face.

“Take that Steve!” Robin shouts and Steve laughs as he starts to reset the cups for the next round.

“You won’t be saying that for long Rob. Rotate” Steve grins at her and they do as he says, adjusting the team’s order, putting Robin and Fred at the start.

None of them are entirely sure how many games have been played but Steve is highly aware that he’s run out of beer and is beginning to feel the buzz of playing double on his team for so long. Robin is clearly tired and starting to slouch against Vickie so he calls it and deems the girls the winners.

“So, do we get a prize?” you ask him with a teasing glance, the alcohol giving you more confidence then you should have when talking to the popular boy. Steve eyes Robin and Vickie sleepily sitting on the patio furniture, offering them no attention while Fred went inside to use the bathroom.

“Depends, what do you want?” Steve asks, leaning closer and almost begging for the girl to want to kiss him.

“More nights like these” you answer simply and Steve furrows his brows, giving you a questioning glance that you don’t miss. “It’s just, I’ve never seen my friends so happy. You did that for them Steve”

“It was a drinking game” he states and you shrug, looking around the back patio lit up by string lights. The smell of beer is in the air and your friends are falling asleep, but it’s the most content you’ve ever been.

“To you maybe, but for us we finally felt like we were apart of something” you say, turning back to look at him just to find he’s already staring you down with the same intensity he had all night. In fact you’d never had a guy look at you like that, like he so badly wanted to kiss you. You never expected it to be Steve Harrington of all people.

“Can I take you on a date?” Steve suddenly asks and you can’t stop the shock that covers your features. It’s the last thing you had expected him to say.

“You don’t even know my real name Steve” you tell him and he grins, shrugging his shoulders and scooting closer to you.

“Don’t worry about it, you can tell me on our date” he tells you and you snort out a laugh, shaking your head at the boy and beginning to understand why Robin was so fond of him.

“I haven’t even agreed yet” you tell him but he just smiles, nudging his shoulder against your own.

“That doesn’t matter, I’ll pick you up here at 7. I’m sure Robin would love to help you get ready” he grins wide and you sigh, looking up into his large and kind eyes. Much different from how they had looked back when he was still in High School.

“Fine, I’ll be here at 7” you agree and he grins wide before pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Great! See you then, I’m gonna go check on Fred” and he’s gone as soon as he appeared and you smile wide when he disappears into the house. Realizing you who once felt so different from anyone else, unable to be an object of desire, was going on a date with Steve Harrington.

“Man am I in trouble”

200 notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 2 years ago

Text

motormouth | charles leclerc instagram au

pairing: charles : x host!reader

charles finally gets the chance to go on his favourite internet show, but completely embarrasses himself in front of the host - his celebrity crush

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, florencepugh and 1,303,765 others

tagged: scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc

yourusername surprise!!! the next guest on the bargain bucket is ferrari prince, il predestinato and chronic bad trouser-enjoyer charles leclerc! in this episode we ate monaco’s local bargain pastries while discussing his f1 career, being the middle child and a potential career as a pianist. available this friday.

view all 320,761 comments

charles_leclerc thank you for having me on the show

yourusername the pleasure was all mine charles, tell ur pr department to stop calling me

lovelyleclerc oh god what did charles say

wdccharles this is my multiverse of madness

pierregasly oh thank the lord he can finally shut up about getting to go on your show

piarlestruther pierre always exposing his bestie

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 601,761 others

tagged: yourusername, thebargainbucket

charles_leclerc i had a great time when y/n wasn’t trying to bait me. check out my ep of the bargain bucket this friday.

view all 4,092 comments

yourusername i didn’t bait you at all, you admitted it all on your own baby

charles_leclerc lying isn’t cute y/n

planetleclerc i’m lowkey loving their dynamic

leclercfan16 yessss i want to see more

pierregasly did you admit your crush?

f1wagupdates PIERRE WHAT

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, gracieabrams and 1,208,945 others

tagged: thebargainbucket

yourusername ahhhhhhhhhh my heart is so full. after a successful few years my little show that started in my parents’ spare room is getting a big upgrade. i can’t say too much now, but watch this space...

view all 7,092 comments

florencepugh so so deserved

flowersforcharles ah i’m so excited

charles_leclerc but you can’t possibly upgrade from me

yourusername don’t flatter yourself

danielricciardo congrats y/n - when can i come on?

yourusername might be sooner than you think

f1wagsupdates

liked by likedbypierregasly, leclercmylove and 431 others

tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc

f1wagsupdates charles and y/n spotted in the background of joris’ instagram story before it was taken down. are they a new couple in the paddock and does this have anything to do with her new project?

view all 24 comments

violetleclerc idk about you guys but i love them

gasly10 this feels kinda forced especially with rumours that her new project is with f1

f1fan16 yeah it defo feels like she’s only with charles for that reason

yourusername added to their story

[caption: a little change of scenery]

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 2,309,812 others

tagged: yourusername

f1 this season the bargain bucket is on wheels and international. y/n y/ln is sampling the local delicacies while giving you a behind-the-scenes look at the world of f1!

view all 9,523 comments

tedkravitz welcome to the team y/n!!!!

yourusername thank youuuuuu ted

lewishamilton looking forward to seeing you in the paddock y/n

yukitsunoda0511 can’t wait to show you all the best places to eat in japan

yourusername omg yes yuki

charles_leclerc proud of you lovely

yourusername sharlllllll i’m blushing

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,409,532 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc best thing about y/n always being in the paddock: kisses

worst thing about y/n always being in the paddock: how much she loves lipstick

view all 12,078 comments

yourusername you love me really

charles_leclerc i really do

leclercfire the way charles was scared he embarrassed himself on the bargain bucket by saying she’s his celeb crush and now they’re together

babyleclerc i’m proud of him for real

pierregasly i guess our five hour phone call before going on the show was worth it now

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc x reader

3K notes · View notes

lo-vearchive · 1 year ago

Text

Forgive Me

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x female! reader

Summary: After an argument at work with your boss Miguel O’Hara you quit your job at Alchemex in anger. Luckily your boss’ AI talks some sense into him and sends him your way to beg for forgiveness. Read Part Two: here

Word Count: 2340 words

Content: Miguel being a rude bastard, Miguel begging for forgiveness, 18+ (minors DNI), no explicit smut, but things do get spicy at the end, breastplay, questionable Spanish

Note: Not proofread. Did get carried away a little, but I just love angst and men begging. Take it up with the duolingo owl if you don’t like my Spanish (i tried :((). Feedback is appreciated because this may be the most I have ever written on Tumblr. Have fun, horndogs.

You rush into Miguel’s office at Alchemex on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Mr. O’Hara,” you call out, heaving. “I need to speak to you.”

If Miguel found the use of his last name odd, he didn’t react. He sat hunched over his desk, clattering away on his keyboard. His wide shoulders obstructed the view of the screen, but you could tell he was working away at something important. Everything Miguel did seemed to be a matter of life or death recently and that left you with no time to discuss the nature of your relationship. You were stuck somewhere between more than colleagues but less than romantic partners, and now you wanted more than just the stolen looks and accidental lingering touches.

When he didn’t answer you called out again, wary of the listening ears at your workplace. “Mr. O’Hara?”

He let out a sigh with his back still turned to you. “What is it?”

You clear your throat to brace yourself against his cold tone. “It’s about something a bit more personal, sir. I would feel much better if we could speak with the door closed—”

“No quiero hablar contigo,” (I don’t want to speak to you) he cut you off. “I have a deadline to meet. Come back later.”

“This is important,” you insisted, glancing behind you at the ajar door to his office. “I just need some clarity about where things are going. Our interactions are messing with my head and that’s impacting my performance. I just need an answer.”

Miguel scoffed and continued typing away. “Helping you with your little feelings isn’t my priority. Go find something else to do. I’m busy.”

Irritation flooded through your body. Usually you could tolerate his hot-and-cold behaviour, but your patience was wearing thin. You hated his unwillingness to ever say what he truly felt, and you were tired of being in limbo. “You can’t just dismiss me like I’m some child. Miguel—”

“— No me hables—” (Don’t talk to me)

“No, I am going to talk, and you are going to listen or whatever is going on between us will end right now!”

He slammed his hands on his desk and the entire room shook on impact. He turned around and stalked towards you until he stood, looming over you. His red eyes reflected the anger in yours. He ran a large hand through his dark, dishevelled hair and spoke in a hushed, stern voice. “You are embarrassing yourself. Do I have to remind you that I’m your boss and this is your workplace? Let go of whatever fantasies you have got cooking in your head and get to work.”

You felt as if someone had slapped you in the face. Your cheeks felt hot, and your eyes began to sting. You felt like an idiot and then you felt angry for feeling that way as Miguel stood in front of you with sunken eyes and a stoic face.

A smirk played on his lips. “Calladita estás más guapa.” (You look prettier when you’re quiet)

You didn’t need advanced Spanish skills to understand what he meant. “F-Fuck you,” you choked through a constricting throat. “You’re an asshole. I quit.”

You stormed out of the office, hiding the tears that had begun leaking out. Avoiding the pitiful gazes of your colleagues, you grabbed your purse off the reception desk, threw your nametag aside and left the building.

Once Miguel was alone in his office, his bravado faded away. “Fuck,” he murmured, running a hand over his face. “Lyla, give me a visual on her.”

Lyla puffed into his sight with her arms crossed over her chest. Behind her played a video of your name tag being tugged off your coat lapel and landing in the garbage. Your palms rubbed furiously against your eyes as you made your way to the elevator and away from him. “Shit,” he cursed again. “I messed up . . . ”

“Messed up?” Lyla echoed, incredulity laced in her voice. “You broke her heart! Matter of fact, I can show you precisely where you shattered it!”

She rewinded the visual to a few minutes back. Miguel’s stomach dropped as he saw her lips tremble as she held her head up, listening to the knives launching out of his mouth. Lyla shook her head as you’re the image of your crestfallen face faded away. “You better fix this,” she warned.

“I know, I know,” he exhaled loudly. “Send me her location. I need to go fix this.”

*******************************************************************************************

You sat in your bed with red eyes and a spicy chicken burrito bowl, scrolling through a job-hunting website. Miguel would have told you that the take-out place you ordered from wasn’t authentic Mexican food, but he would also dismiss your existence in the same sentence, so you decided to not put any weight behind his words. Yet you couldn’t deny that his behaviour today hurt you deeply. You kept replaying your past interactions to see if you had imagined a connection where there was none.

It had been six months since you started working at Alchemex. Everyone had warned you about Miguel and his brashness towards his past secretaries. You used to walk on eggshells around him, minimizing the space you took, and trying your hardest to not bring any undue attention to yourself. It wasn’t long until you figure out he was Spider-Man, you were always perceptive, especially of him. Somewhere along the line, the nine-to-fives turned to nine-to-midnight and then those turned into overnight stays at his office, working alongside him to research anomalies with Lyla.

At first, it was just innocent touches at the small of your back to move you out of his way in the cramped office. Then came the lingering touches on your arms as he hunched over behind you, helping you navigate some code written on his computer screen. You could vividly recall the night when you couldn’t reach a box of files on the top shelf of his filing case. Miguel had scooped you up effortlessly with an arm underneath your buttocks. His warm breath hit your stomach as he asked, “Did you get it?” You were thankful that he didn’t see the bright flush on your cheeks as he lowered you back onto the ground. You were even more thankful when he didn’t step away.

But none of that mattered anymore. He was an asshole and you had quit your job. You shoved a spoonful of rice in your mouth and pushed away the memories. The sun began to set, painting your room orange and slowly that too faded away. You sat in the darkness, contemplating hitting up your friends for a night out when you felt the hair on the back of your neck rise. From the corner of your eye, you saw a shadowy figure peering inside your bedroom from the fire escape. You let out a loud scream, scrambling away with the bowl in your hand.

The figure held up its hand in surrender. “It’s me! It’s me!” a familiar voice called out.

“Miguel?”

The figure nodded and the mask around its face disappeared to reveal his face. “Let me in,” he said, pressing his hand against the glass. “I need to speak to you.”

You set the bowl down on a nearby table and walked towards the fire escape with your arms crossed over your chest. “Pero no quiero hablar contigo,” (but I don’t want to speak to you) you replied, throwing his words right back to him. “You need to leave.”

He sighed and shook his head. Holding his wrist out, he let out a string of web and pulled the door back slightly. “No!” you shrieked as he slipped in through the gap. “I won’t get my safety deposit back!”

He crossed the space between us in long strides and grabbed my arms. “I will fix it,” he promised, “but I need you to listen to me first.”

You eyed him with a neutral expression, trying your hardest to control your thundering heart. “I am so, so sorry,” he said with his big brown eyes boring into yours. “I was an idiot for how I behaved. Please don’t quit. I need you.”

You pursed your lips and looked away.

“Mírame,” (look at me) he whispered, moving his hands up to your neck. His thumb turned your chin softly back to him.

“You were right,” he continued, rubbing his thumb softly across your jawline. “There is something here and it scares me. I acted like a coward today when you, my sweet, brave girl brought it up. Please don’t leave me behind.”

“You made me feel like I was an idiot,” you mumbled, fighting back tears, and looking anywhere but him. “Made me feel as if I was imagining things. I don’t want your apologies. I don’t want to forgive you.”

His large hands moved to cup your face. He inched closer until the material of his suit slightly skimmed the surface of your tank top. He pressed his forehead to yours. “Forgive me.”

“No.”

his cool minty breath gently fanned your face. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

“No.”

“Forgive me,” he repeated and moved his face lower to the crook of your neck.

“No— ung.”

He pressed his lips gently against the sensitive skin on your neck. “Forgive me.”

You raised your forearms and pressed them into his chest, attempting to push him away, but Miguel didn’t move an inch. His arms moved to your back, caging you in his embrace. “Not fair!” you cried.

He tipped your head back with his nose and slid his lips across the expanse of your throat. You bit your lips harshly to prevent the sounds of pleasure from escaping your throat. Your chest rose and fell harshly as his lips sucked away sensually. He moved his mouth and connected it with a spot that made your legs go numb. Miguel’s hands caught you before you could slip away. He hoisted you up and on instinct, you wrapped your legs around him for support. He walked you both backwards and gently laid you down on your mattress.

Leaning over you, he opened his mouth to speak but the light from your laptop screen caught his attention. “You’re already looking for jobs?” he pouted, fisting the sheet around your head. “You can’t leave me behind, baby. What am I supposed to do without you?”

You scoffed. “Whatever you were doing before. You can find someone else to be mean to.”

He grunted and dipped down to your throat once again. “I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.”

He kissed you again and your hand flew to his dark locks in surprise. He groaned as you tugged on it. “You can pull my hair and be mean to me too,” he mumbled against your throat. “Just please forgive me and give us a chance.”

You wrapped your hand around his neck. “Everyone at work heard us argue.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “It was my fault, and I won’t ever do it again.”

“People will talk,” you tried to reason, playing with the ends of his locks. “You are my boss.”

He pulled back to meet your eyes. His hair stuck out in different places and made you giggle. “Oh, yeah? Just your boss?”

“Yeah, what else— mmph!”

His mouth is on yours and it leaves you confused. Every touch of his in the past has been fleeting but this time Miguel won’t let this kiss end. His tongue parts your mouth and finds yours as his hand coaxes your jaw open. You let out a satisfied hum as he brushes your hair away from your face and neck and angles your face up. You had always imagined what kissing him would feel like, but nothing compared to this. You both lay in bed, fully dressed, but Miguel kissed you like he was already inside of you.

He pulled away and you groan, chasing his lips. “Wait, wait, wait, does this mean you forgive me?”

You rolled your eyes and exhaled harshly. “Miggy, you’re in my bed and on top of me. Of course, I forgive you.”

“Good,” he grinned.

His hand moves to your throat and then down the laced edge of your tank top. He inhales you deeply. “You smell so good. Every time you walked by my desk, I would get hard from a whiff,” he muttered to himself. “Thought it was your perfume, but now I know that it’s just you, your scent . . . I wonder if its stronger when I . . . can I?”

You were too preoccupied with feelings of disbelief to understand what he was saying, but you knew you felt safe in his arms. You nodded enthusiastically. Miguel hooked a finger into my tank top and gently pulled it down. He lets out a deep groan as your peaked nipples emerge from behind the fabric. “I know this is fast, but God, I could just . . .”

He wrapped his large hand around a breast. You let out a whimper as his touch makes your cunt clench around nothing. He moves your nipple in the space between his fingers and gives it a tug. “Miggy,” you gasp, gripping his hair. “You do this to all your secretaries?”

He shook his head as he continued to play with your nipple, rubbing it between his fingertips. “Only you, baby. I only ever want you.”

His warm mouth wrapped around a nipple as your legs wrap around him tighter. He sucks away at one breast while his hand plays with the other.

“Miguel!” you cry out at the sensation.

The side of your thigh begins to vibrate. It takes you a moment for you to navigate through the haze of pleasure to realize his cell phone is ringing. You reach into his suit pocket and pull out his phone. The words ‘Tyler Stone, CEO’ shine brightly on the screen.

You let out laugh which turns into moan. “Your boss is calling.”

Without stopping his ministrations, he tugs the phone out of your hand and chucks it aside on the bed. “Can’t talk now,” he mumbled around your breast. “I have my mouth full.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #spider-man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #angst #miguel o'hara angst #spider-man: across the spider-verse #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #first fanfic #spiderverse #fic rec #my post

2K notes · View notes

saudrag · 1 year ago

Text

my take on the ending, especially aziraphale’s behaviour.

all this fandom talk “this couldn’t be our aziraphale”, “metatron put something in the coffee”, “everything in the end seems odd” really weirded me out. for me it’s equal to “i dont want all that complicated writing, for me the simple one is easier to process” like. i get it, really. but from writer’s point of view it sounds kinda… debasing. neil just gave us an amazing social problem analogy with organised religion slash abusive family and how it brainwashes & manipulates people who are so desperate to make any difference that they reach out to religion, their last instance. people abandon their loved ones for it, because they’re “unholy” and “sinful” and don’t want to join them.

there is that aziraphale/heaven parallel with nina and her ex. nina just realised that her ex was abusive and now she needs time to heal, but maggie would not abandon her, she would be right there.

it’s exactly what is happening and what will happen with azi in season 3.

aziraphale never truly left heaven, not in his mind, at least, and now, when he was the most vulnerable, heaven waved in front of his face with “you can come back, change everything and be with the person you love the most, so you can be all happy together” and azi just couldn’t say no to THAT. to his memory of angel!crowley, being so joyful and cheerful and happy with just bring able to create, to make beauty. what he didn’t realise is, that he was being manipulated. as a victim of brainwashing by my own parent for DECADES, I can tell you that azi couldn’t just “open his eyes” randomly and realise without something really PROFOUND happening to him. (that is remains for neil to tell us, what it will be).

for me it was separation, my parent’s fast decreasing mental health, and a LOT of outer influence (talks with my other parent, friends, discussions about the abuse of my other parent). the last straw was one of my visits.

we are yet to see it in s3.

aziraphale being an analogy for a victim of brainwashing by organised religion (“parents”) is a genius writing, something that you don’t see often in tv shows. but explaining his behaviour by “metatron just drugged him that’s why our angel is acting weird” is SO DEBASING and for aziraphale’s whole character, and for neil gaiman, and for me, as a victim

#goodomens #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens theory #aziraphale #neil gaiman #good omens analysis

991 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 2 years ago

Note

I’m just gonna drop a little gift here…

LOOK AT HIM SO FUCKING GORGEOUS AND HOT AND 😩😩😩😩😩

Ok love you byeeeee✌🏻

LOOK AT HIM. I say nothing is perfect and then he comes along. And are we getting a glimpse inside of Smartie's mind?

Daddy? Sorry.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 760 Warnings: Discussion of Bucky being d-addy. Hehe.

A/N: Stud and Smartie nonsense. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

"You know what I don't get? The 'Daddy? Sorry.' thing," you told Natasha as you waited for Bucky to join you at the cafe for lunch. It was a beautiful day to sit outside. "Is it bad that I don't get it?"

"Not bad," Natasha replied, cocking an eyebrow at you and not questioning the out of the blue topic. "But what exactly are you not getting?"

"I guess calling a guy 'Daddy'," you shrugged, adding air quotes for good measure. "I've never done it."

"So, you haven't called Bucky 'Daddy'?" she smirked.

“No, I haven’t. I just said I haven’t called anyone that,” you said, holding your chin high when her expression didn’t change.

If there was one thing you appreciated about Natasha, she never made you feel dumb or embarrassed for any candid discussions you had with her. Even when she teased you, it was all in good fun. Bucky liked that the two of you became friends, though he preferred to be your main confidant. You felt the same way about him.

“But he isn’t just anyone.”

“I know,” you smiled, glancing around to see if he arrived yet. “He’s special.”

My future husband. I just know it.

“And you’re special to him, too. Can’t have Stud without Smartie,” the redhead said as you smiled more. It was nice to hear that. “Okay. In your mind, how would you describe a Daddy?”

You snorted a bit because you couldn’t believe this was where the conversation went. Well, you brought it up. You should’ve known your friend would ask questions. She did have a way of getting people to talk.

“Besides handsome?” you asked, getting a nod in agreement. You had to think about it before you continued. “I guess someone protective and maybe a bit dominant? Not in a controlling way, but in a ‘I want to take care of you’ kind of way.”

Bucky was the most protective person you knew. It wasn’t just physically standing up for you if he felt the need to step in and defend you. He cared about your mental well-being and feelings. And while he didn’t mind you taking the lead, he was very much the more dominant of the two of you. No matter what, you knew you were his number one priority in and out of bed.

“Go on,” she urged, taking a sip as she kept her neutral gaze on you.

A small smile touched your lips as you adjusted the hoodie you were wearing. It was Bucky’s, of course. “And I guess it can be playful and affectionate, like I want to tease him. Can you imagine if I called him that in front of everyone?” you asked, giggling as you pictured a couple of expressions he might give you from hearing the nickname. “But it’s also vulnerable, in a way, because it might sound awkward if I say it and he may not like it. What matters is that I trusted him enough to say it though and he might like it.”

I trust him to tell me the truth.

“Why do you think he’d like it?”

You looked at her without an ounce of shame. “Because it's that extra bit of assurance that I’m his.”

But it also says he’s mine, right?

Natasha gave you a rare wide smile. “Sounds like you understand it just fine.”

As if he sensed the two of you were discussing him, Bucky came into view. If your friend heard you whimper, she kindly didn’t call you out on it. Maybe she was used to you gazing at Bucky Barnes like he was a work of art that you had the privilege to touch.

Your brain tried to tell your eyes to quit looking at him like a creep, but you didn’t blink. You just stared at your man and tried not to drool as you took in his tight blue sweater and pulled back hair. His stance and size screamed “power” and you suddenly wished he’d bend you over the table and take you right there. There was also a softness about him that made you want to burrow in his arms and never leave.

Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. OH. I fucking get it now. Is this a new kink unlocked? Wait, is it a kink?

“Call him ‘Daddy’ and I’ll pay for lunch,” Natasha offered as Bucky spotted you both and headed to the table.

“That’s a conversation for Daddy and I to have first,” you joked.

And knowing Bucky, he’d be happy with whatever you called him.

How do we think he'd react? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes x reader #stud and smartie #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes ficlet #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #beefy roommate au #roommate au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sparklesannie

1K notes · View notes

gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

Text

The Horror and The Wild [Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader] Medieval Fantasy AU (ch.4)

You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one.

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| you're here! AO3 Word count: 3469 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig Warnings for this chapter: Dub-con oral sex(f!receiving), outdated views regarding sex

— Now, dear princess, your husband will expect certain…qualities of his wife. Please, you must listen to this as closely as possible if we want to avoid…traumas.

You pout, eating the apple that was provided to you by a group of servants who looked way too scared to be appointed to a princess. If Her Highness saw this, she would order them whipped – a servant shall never look unhappy in front of their patron, as not to invoke nasty feelings of sadness, misery, and empathy in the royal rulers. Princess made you smile and laugh through hours of her extensive, albeit a bit improvised and amateur, singing. You were to hold her hair while she was doing it, listening to the melodies of desire to escape the castle.

The servants in front of you were sent by the Emperor – König, to…teach you something. You were not too interested in his, way too invested in weird fruits from foreign countries that they provided – still, you are too well-mannered to ignore them.

— Traumas? Is his Emperor’s Illustrosicy going to torture me?

Servants look over at each other, nervous. You tilt your head to the side, trying to see if you can decipher their gazes – but you see nothing but sympathy. Sad, miserable kind. Your blood runs cold as you get another bite of that apple.

— You’re as innocent as Emperor said, your Majesty.

You weren’t, in reality – you’re a liar, a traitor to your nation, the only one of the servants who was too scared to die alongside the royal family and performed that foolish gamble in order for a chance to save your hide. Such silly things like an untouchable hymen between your legs or lack of knowledge of intimacy, saved for a few books, are nothing compared to the life you are saving in your mind, There is nothing innocent about you or your actions.

— W…well, you see…you are of child-bearing age.

That was up for discussion. You might be an adult by all standards, a bit too ripe even, too sheltered for the age in which young men are already taking their family’s businesses and women are giving birth to their second and third children, but it doesn’t mean you want to bear someone’s kid. Definitely not conceive from a man who destroyed your future.

— I won’t do it.

You act like a princess would – bratty and pouty, all the new dresses and the room they place you in acting like a perpetuar of your ego.

— My Lady, this isn’t up for discussion. Please, we need to…we need to teach you how to do it, in order to prevent…accidents.

— What accidents?

The other servant, an older lady with tired eyes and snappy gestures, took out a pile of drawings from the bag she was holding. Quite a lot of drawings. Quite detailed drawings. Quite nasty drawings.

Quite…bloody drawings.

Gods, is this what a woman must endure during lovemaking? Is this even lovemaking, or is this a dissection straight from the medical book? The drawings are lewd and horrifying – whoever was the artist, they didn’t spare the details of the act. Pain, blood, torn flesh…god, if they wanted you to learn how to take your husband properly, they did a horrible job – now you don’t ever want to see him again. Not without armor plates protecting…that thing.

— I w…won’t do it. Behead me this instant.

Your voice is weak, horrified. Servants look equally scared.

— Your Majesty, you must know that it’s just…the worst outcome. If you listen to your lessons and relax, you will escape such a fate.

— How could a living being relax while they are being impaled on a spear?!

— With certain balms and extracts, such fate can be escaped.

— How can a balm prevent this?! Too angry to ever listen to the servants, you drip the drawings from your hands, along with a half-eaten apple. Un-ladylike, but you need to preserve your life – and your dignity – before they would show you even more horrifying things that would never let you sleep again. Tugging on the heaviness of your skirt, you ran to the nearest hallway as soon as possible.

The emperor’s palace is disgustingly big and dark – you’d say it was magnificent in that scary, gothic style, but you don’t have the time to think about all the artistic choices that the architects made by installing so many dark hallways in a place that suppose to protect Emperor from possible assassins. Still, you drop to the nearest dark corner, hoping that no one will follow you.

With a calm sigh, you brush the dust from your skirts. God, you had to bring that apple with you – it was delicious.

— I never heard anyone calling my cock a spear before, Liebling. You’re full of surprises.

Big, gloved hands are enveloping your waist, putting you in the hug you didn’t want. This embrace is all too familiar and too terrifying – you forget that this castle serves the only true owner, and your desire to escape will never be considered an option. Like a rabbit in the wolf’s mouth, you freeze. The worst company you could expect after such a horrifying lesson – your only hope is that, like men from the novels you and Princess were reading sometimes, The Emperor was into his comrades more than he would be into you.

His warm hands, pulling you into a tight hug against his body, however, make you think otherwise.

— Let go of me! Pl…please.

You plead because the drawings installed a new fear into your body. You're not afraid of death – if anything, you wish for it. However, the fait of constant pain and suffering which each nightly visit makes you more terrified than any death sentence would.

König only laughs, holding you as close to him as possible. A warm hand grazes over your stomach, making you shiver from anticipation. You don’t know what he is thinking about – you also don’t want to.

— Why would I let go of my precious wife?

— I’m not your wife yet.

— And won’t be for quite a while, considering the lessons my servants taught you?

Blood drains from your face. Even the slightest reminder makes you whimper – like a puppy without its mother, you let go of a pathetic little sound, and your face finds comfort in the armor plates that Knog wears even in many of his castles. Cold metal makes you slightly calmer, and you can force the dreams of touching his chest instead of deep in your mind. Bane to all the lewdness, as you saw the amount of blood it would drain from your body.

— I will never succumb to such fate.

— I promise it won’t be that bad. I can whip my servants for installing fear in you if you want to, little princess.

No matter how scared they made you feel, you will never bestow such fate on any of the servants – you, perhaps, the only one who knows how hard and horrible work as a lady in waiting might be. You might not be the perfect princess, but you certainly aren’t a cruel one.

— No. They…they shall not be harmed, Your Majesty.

He chuckles, pushing a hand on your face. A few tears fall down your cheeks – he drains them with his gloved finger, making you whimper only more. God, you look divine like this – eyes are glistening with tears, the face is hot from fear and embarrassment, the mouth is open with a sweet little pout…it takes every last inch of his self-control not to simply pick you up and bring you to his bedroom before you could say anything.

— You’re kind for a princess.

There is suspicion in his voice – but you quickly try to brush it away by forcing yourself out of his embrace. Unfortunately, he only holds you tighter, making you bury your face in his armor again. To be honest, it’s not the worst place to be.

— Shouldn’t you be in the courtroom?

— I ran. Never liked to greet new people.

You almost choke on your breath. Is he serious?! His face betrays his emotions – despite how confident his mask is, you can see that his eyes are colder than usual. More nervous than usual. His hands are shaking, if only for a little bit, holding you tight, as you can simply escape through his fingers like sand. You’d love to have such powers.

— I thought the Emperor had responded.

— I do. And an army of men to do these responsibilities for me.

— You’re hiding from my country’s Ambassadors?

— Collaborators and traitors of your people, yes. The only ambassador I care about is in my hands.

With this, he quickly pushes you up in his hands, forcing you to sit on the cold stone ledge. The new dress design makes it possible to manipulate and move the skirt as he pleases – you hate this new fashion because it makes it ridiculously easy for König to simply push your skirt upwards, revealing your legs and your dignity, concealed by only a pair of short, frilly white underpants with so many bows and ribbons, it feels obscene.

You try to kick him in the face, but he catches your ankle before you can do anything. He was a horrible, terrible man – totally unfit for the ruler of half of the world, you have no idea how a man this villainous could still be held in high regard for his people. This place is just as barbaric as their ruler, you presume – no dignity or sense of taste as König holds your skirt up, tearing apart the delicate fabric. God, it probably cost a fortune!

Emerald green fabric lays like green ocean waves under your legs. You must admit, even the cold of the inner parts of the palace does not make you feel uncomfortable – if anything, this moment of exposure of your legs makes you feel a bit more comfortable and fresh. The light breeze caresses your legs, and you almost want to close your eyes and just enjoy wearing clothes without the stuffiness of the full gown.

With your corset, torn skirt, and underpants, you almost feel like you’re wearing pants – an obscene picture, you assume, a lady should never show her ankles to anyone but her husband…and you would do everything to stop him from being marked as one. Still, König places his large imposing body between your legs, and you panic immediately – is this monster terrible enough to show you what those illustrations meant, not even in the comfort of a marriage bed, but in the coldness of the stone hallway? You close your eyes, kicking him to your heart’s content – and he is laughing every time you’re trying to resist, only catching both of your ankles in his grip and forcing them open. God, this is the end. Torture that you never wanted to experience will be bestowed upon you right about…

His tongue goes to rub you through the rough fabric of your underpants. Dispute all the layers of expensive material, your maidenhood feels like it had been set on fire.

You are suddenly aware of the silly things you have between your legs. You can feel them too well right now – every second of movement of his tongue against sensitive flesh makes your legs kick him less and less. Your nails are trying to dig into the stone of a small ledge you were sitting on – but you can’t do anything to stop this sweet torture he is perpetuating. You want for everything to stop this instant, and you want for him to finally take off your undergarments.

— Wh…wha…what are you doing?! You don’t scream as loud as you can, only because you know that the maids are nearby and you don’t want to be making a scene. Putting the emperor back in his place and revealing him as a pervert would be nice, of course – but it wasn’t as nice as having your dignity saved. You bite your lips, feeble attempts to save at least parts of yourself – still, you feel like you’re being boiled alive by his masterful tongue, without even the need to bring your pants down and feel him on your flesh directly.

— I want to show you how nice this could be.

— How nice what could be?! You are still kicking your legs, and he is slowly taking down the fabric of your underpants. You wish he had exposed hair so you could tug on it – you wish he wasn’t afraid of showing you his face, just so you could break it properly. A lady should always protect her virginity from a man with evil intentions, and König was certainly the most evil person of them all.

Still, his tongue felt so good, circling around the parts you were only finding accidentally, blindly searching for pleasure like a dumb kitten, trying every little button in your body to see what would make you squirm. He is masterful at this, every action is deliberate and strong – every little thing in his movements makes you wonder just how many women he bedded.

You can still feel the little tremble in his hands, his fingers that supported you and kept your legs apart are trembling, if only just a bit – you wonder if he truly is nervous about everything he is doing or if he just wants to make everything perfect. His touch leaves a trail of bruises on your inner thighs and you never thought that you’d yearn for a man whose touch is literally hurting you.

— I know how to make… consumation go painless, little princess. Certainly have the experience for this.

— Is fondling my undergarments a part of this experience, Your Highness?

— If you wish for me to lost my control, little princess.

Before you could say anything else about not wanting for him to simply take off your underpants and throw them on the cold floor of the castle, he had already lowered them to hang around your ankles – revealing your sensitive folds, already glossy and wet from all the fondling he performed to make you nice and ready for him.

König knew he shouldn’t be doing this – losing control would be too easy in this case. Little princess, out of her own depth, can barely stop him when he wants to take something precious from her – still, he wanted to at least try to be slower, softer, to make everything perfect and make her his precious trophy. Her dread over bedding him would prove horrible for their marriage – if she didn’t wish for the workers to be saved, he would already sent those dumb maids away.

Princess is adult enough to learn the pleasures of being a woman – still, he understood why a king would want to hide a precious flower like this. You don’t behave like a spoiled brat would, no matter how much you want to make him think you were nothing but a pouty face and frowned brows, and he wants to see your true self – your inner nature, revealing itself in front of him. And he knows just a way to do this…

Your cunt is perfect – he is a soldier, a man of war and little romance, he can’t sing you a song of how beautiful and perfect your maidenhood is, but he can lick it and tease it and make you come on his tongue more than you ever could with that dainty fingers of yours.

He isn’t ashamed of touching your sweetness when he is burning his face between your legs. Not even caring that his hood, which he had to draw back as fast as possible, is going to get messy with all o your juices, he licks and tugs on your clit, your folds, on every sensitive bit of skin of your body.

And, by god, are you sensitive?

Soon, your little cries of pleasure are turning into moans that you are pathetically trying to hide. Soon you are marking his rough, rugged face wet with your juices – his nose is pressed on your clit constantly, and that well-mannered, perfectly bred royal woman in your body is moaning like a common whore.

König isn’t trying to be too gentle – his mind is filled with that boyish nerves and anxiety, the fear of getting spotted not because anyone would have anything to say to the literally fucking emperor, but because he doesn’t want anyone else to see how easily he can drown little princess in pleasure. She is a perfect girl, so pretty for him, so nice and wet when he pushes his tongue in and out.

He forgot the last time he experienced such pleasure – his dick only grows with each gentle stroke of tongue in your folds, and he doesn’t even need to touch himself. You’re perfect for him, writhing under his touch, he had to force himself to stop putting too much pressure on your poor swollen clit. König almost forgot just how sensitive you are – he had to introduce you slowly to the world of pleasure, not pushing you into the depths before you could even get married, but…well, he was never one to follow the rules – and you, as his precious bride, deserved something nice outside of the wedlock.

— St…stop, it’s t’ much…

You are mumbling, holding his hood in your hands, and he is almost afraid you are going to pull it to reveal his face even more – but even your ruined skirt is enough of a cover to make his identity concealed, and he isn’t afraid of pushing your gummy walls with his tongue, gently caressing your insides.

You are clenching around his tongue, the intrusion is unfamiliar to you – he makes sure he kisses your clit from time to time, holding the sensitive bud between his teeth so as to threaten you gently. He usually involves a lot more biting and would love to put some permanent marks on your thighs and soft lower tummy, but if you were scared of the drawings those dumb maids put on to you, he doesn’t want to fuel your fear any further. He could try later, making your perfect body into a canvas for his desire.

— Patience is a grace for a princess, ja? Be patient, Meine Liebe.

— Pl…please, stop, I don’t…

— What is it?

— It’s too much, you shouldn’t…

— I’m not claiming you yet. God won’t be against a bit of fun, Schatzi.

— I’m against it…

— Your moans tell another story, little princess.

He knows you don’t want to be patient – he tugs at every nerve inside your body, his tongue swings in and out, and his lips caress your soft folds, collecting any juice that might be escaping. He will have to gift you another dress after this – but he is so used to seeing you in torn clothes it becomes a thing that stirs his manhood again and again. You look perfect when you’re not perfect – by god, he is unable to control himself.

You whine lightly as he presses a final kiss to your clit, catching your orgasm and drinking your pleasure. He is a messy eater through and through – his stubble makes you whimper from sensitivity, you sob lightly as he pushes back, a hood returning to conceal his face before your dazed eyes would be able to catch him.

Hell, you look precious.

Panting, with sweat beads glossy on your skin, with your lips open and moans escaping it – with your face completely turned into an expression of enormous pleasure, he doesn’t know what to do with himself as he watches you breathe heavily, chest going up and down. If he could, he would chain you to a bed in his bedroom, not ever allowing your precious figure to escape.

He might just do this when you’re married.

You whimper under him, your eyes are still glazed with that pleasurable expression, making him smile under his hood. You may hate him all you want, but he sees the truth – knows just how perfect you are in your stubborn desire to defy him.

— Wh…what was it?

You are still shocked but regain some of your senses – you take on your underpants quickly, stubbornness spreading across your warm, embarrassed face. How he loves that expression.

— I wanted to show you that our wedding night wouldn’t be as bad.

— I would rather live without a wedding night, Your Majesty.

— Now, was it that bad?

You tilt your head to the side.

— I am not here to feed your ego.

— You’re sure it is feeding my other senses.

He brushes his hand over your face. You allow him to – not because you wanted his touch, but because you needed some time to think, and his touch was gentle enough to ignore. Yes. That is the truth.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert

768 notes · View notes

0810hts · 3 months ago

Text

thank you || p.gw

pairing: Park Gunwook x fem!Reader

genre: fluff, angst, academic rivals to lovers

warnings:school stress, crying, abusive parents, fight, kisses, (if I missed something, pls let me know)

word count: 1.1k+

(a/n: Not me writing this when I should actually be doing my Spanish presentation for tomorrow 🥹. Also, English is not my first language so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes and this is my first ever completed story so yay !!)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Today was the day. The day you’d get one of the most important grades of your life. You made a deal with your parents: if you ranked first, you’d finally be allowed to go on the school trip. Normally, you’d be the top student—always. But recently, Park Gunwook had been fighting for that spot. One day it was you, the next day him, then you again, then him... the endless back-and-forth was driving you insane.

Because of this stupid competition, your parents banned you from seeing friends, canceled your evening lessons, and forced you to study non-stop. They’d always pushed you to be the best, ever since you were a kid. The second you stepped into elementary school, your childhood vanished.

This deal, this one chance to finally escape, was your only hope. The school trip to Jeju Island—just you, your classmates, and the teachers—was all you could think about. But now, you were sitting at your desk, heart racing, as the teacher passed out the graded papers.

"Good job, L/N Y/N," your teacher said.

Your eyes darted to the score—99%. A smile briefly crossed your face, only to vanish when you saw the ranking: second place. Your stomach sank. You didn’t even have to guess who came in first.

"Congrats to Park Gunwook for first place, L/N Y/N for second, and Asakura Jo for third. Remember, we meet at 8 AM Sunday at the airport," your teacher announced, but you weren’t listening anymore.

You buried your face behind the paper, trying desperately to hold back the tears, but failing. That’s when you heard it.

"Good job, Y/N. Looks like I beat you this time," Gunwook said, his voice light, almost teasing, until he noticed something was off. "Hey… are you okay? What’s wrong?"

Before he could say more, you bolted out of your seat and ran. Gunwook’s voice called after you, but you didn’t look back. He asked Woonhak, your friend, what was going on.

"It’s not you, man," Woonhak explained. "Her parents… they made her promise that if she wasn’t first, she couldn’t go on the trip. Now that she’s second, she’s probably going to be locked up studying until she’s number one again."

Gunwook was stunned. What he thought was just friendly competition meant everything to you.

---------------

Back home, the yelling began.

"We made an agreement!" your father shouted. "Looks like you didn’t want to go after all, coming home with that grade! Did Gunwook beat you again?"

"Yes..." you muttered, staring at the floor.

"Then it’s settled. No trip. You’ll spend the week locked in your room, studying like you should have been all along. Maybe then we’ll get our top student back," your father sneered, throwing your paper into the trash like it was worthless. And with it, your heart shattered into pieces.

"Yes, father..." you whispered, retreating to your room. You locked the door and collapsed onto your bed, tears flowing freely.

---------------

"And who are you?" your father asked, glaring at the boy standing in front of him.

"Park Gunwook, sir."

"Ah, the boy my failure of a daughter keeps losing to. What do you want?"

"I came to talk about her missing the Jeju trip. Just because she came second… it’s not fair—"

"Fair?" your mother interrupted, stepping into view. "We had a deal. She failed. End of discussion."

Gunwook’s eyes burned with frustration. "But second place is incredible. She works so hard, more than anyone. She’s the school president, always helping others, and everyone adores her—even the teachers. Furthermore, she deserves to go. It’s her last field trip before she graduates."

"She lost. There’s nothing else to say," your father growled, about to slam the door shut when you appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Gunwook?" you whispered, shock and confusion in your voice.

"Y/N..." he said softly, unsure of what to do.

You walked past your parents and stood before him. "What are you doing here?"

"Your friend here thinks you should go to Jeju. But it’s not happening," your father spat.

You gave Gunwook a sad, tired smile. "It’s okay. I made a promise, and I lost. You didn’t have to come."

"But Y/N—"

"Really, it’s fine," you insisted, your voice quiet and resigned, before turning and heading back inside.

Gunwook stood there, helpless. He knew there was no convincing you, not with your parents looming behind you.

"Now get out and don’t come back," your father snarled, slamming the door in Gunwook’s face.

Gunwook stood there for a moment, guilt and regret gnawing at him. He was about to leave when he heard it: the unmistakable sound of glass shattering.

He sprinted back to the door and knocked frantically, calling the police as he did. When the door opened, there you were—a sobbing mess, a cut on your cheek, terrified.

You threw yourself into his arms, trembling, as he shielded you from the sight of your father, who was raging, a beer bottle in his hand.

"COME BACK HERE, Y/N!" your father roared as your mother weakly tried to calm him down.

"Don’t you dare take another step. The police are already on their way," Gunwook warned, standing between you and your father.

---------------

Your parents were taken to jail, awaiting their court date. After the police finished questioning you and Gunwook, you were finally free to leave the station, suitcase in hand, unsure of where to go.

"Come stay at my place," Gunwook suddenly offered, breaking the tense silence.

You blinked in surprise. "No, I couldn’t—"

"I won’t let you be alone. You’re staying with me. I’ll protect you. You’ll be safe," he insisted, holding your hand tightly.

Blushing, you nodded.

---------------

"Are you sure your parents will be okay with this?" you asked, sitting nervously on Gunwook’s bed.

"They will be. Once they’re back from their trip and I explain, they’ll let you stay," he assured you, folding your clothes into his closet.

"Go get ready for bed," he said, handing you pajamas and toiletries with a soft smile.

After a long shower, you returned to his room, where he was lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone.

"Are you sure you’re okay with us… sharing a bed?" you asked, hesitant.

He put his phone down and looked at you. "Only if you’re comfortable. I can sleep in my parents’ room."

"No, I’m fine with it."

You slid into bed beside him, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of his nightlight. Turning towards him, you tucked yourself into his arms, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before hiding your face in his chest. He chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

"Thank you. For everything," you whispered, as the two of you drifted into sleep, holding each other close.

The End.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

(a/n: Yeah, kinda rushed the ending a bit oops)

#kpop x reader #kpop imagines #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 oneshots #gunwook x reader #park gunwook #gunwook fluff #gunwook angst #zerobaseone fluff #zerobaseone angst #zb1 fluff #zb1 angst #park gunwook x reader #gunwook imagines #gunwook oneshot

117 notes · View notes

mostly-marvel-musings · 12 days ago

Text

Old Tricks - P3

A/N: Now I can’t stop writing…

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ themes, fluff.

Find Part 1 & Part 2 here ;)

Your husband was missing. Again.

And right after promising that he wouldn’t be late for movie night.

Movie nights. Something you had designated every once in a while complete with buttery popcorn and candy and lots of fluffy pillows and blankets.

Sighing, you finished your glass of wine while his lay untouched and made your way downstairs where he was probably killing his back over some invention.

As suspected, there he was, deep in conversation with his virtual best friend, FRIDAY. You hadn’t decided whether to let this go or go up to him and remind him of what he’d missed. It didn’t hurt you because you had lived with the man long enough to understand he never did it on purpose.

Curiosity had gotten the better of you when you squinted to see what he was up to, watching your husband scroll through pictures that resembled…sex toys?

“Let’s keep the face plate easily retractable too, the wife has a thing for neck kisses and so do I.”

Tony murmured, mostly to himself but he made amendments to the project in front of him, fingers gliding over the keyboard to put his words into actuality. He had lost track of time but only because it was directed towards a little present he had been working on, for you.

Unknown to him, you were standing back within earshot, watching him work with a mixture of shock and amusement on your face.

“I mean, I know Y/N loves coming on my fingers just as much. Maybe we could tweak the suit? Add additional modes on the vibrators too.”

Sure, boss.

Blush crept up your cheeks as his words fell on your ears, it was as if he was discussing any other modification to be done to his Iron Man suits. You tiptoed inside, not wanting to announce your presence just yet as Tony Stark - the successor of Stark Industries, genius inventor, world-renown superhero and philanthropist continued his back and forth with the AI.

You watched as prototypes holograms of his suit showed up, the alterations he spoke about highlighted along with detailed description of its features. The man ran his fingers through his hair, leaving them a glorious mess before walked around the table as if to get a whole 360 view.

Clearing your throat finally, you stifled a laugh as your husband jumped with a hand over his heart.

“Jesus Christ! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Chuckling, you wrapped your arms around the man and reached up to give him a soft kiss. He sighed and hugged you, rubbing your back gently.

“You know among the things I presumed you do down here, I never imagined I’d catch you doing this. I also didn’t realise we had branched out to Adults Toys R Us.” You giggled when Tony playfully slapped your butt, joining in your laughter.

“It was supposed to be a surprise and a silly little gift. For the countless dates I’ve missed, I’m sorry.” He stared at his feet, scratching the back of his neck almost nervously.

“So you’re making me an apology sex toy? You continue to amaze me, Mr. Stark.” You murmured, making him look up at you again before pressing your lips to his lightly.

The man truly was unbelievable.

“What did I miss?” He asked earnestly, guilt evidently reflecting in his brown eyes.

“Our movie night. But it’s okay, I won’t hold it against you. Especially not if promise to reveal what all of this is about.”

Chuckling lowly, Tony planted his head on your shoulder, letting out a tired sigh and a purr the moment your fingers ran through his hair, comforting him.

“Am I going to get a demo or what?” You turned towards his work station while still keeping your arms around him.

“Nope. It’s still a work in progress.” Tony shrugged, swiftly shutting down his work.

“Oh come on, Tony! At least tell me something about it, what does it look like, how do I use it—”

“Oh no, you’re not going to use it. I am.”

You frowned, coaxing him to continue, now that he’d really got your interest piqued. It wasn’t surprising that he would design something like this without involving an element of ‘him’ in it.

“You’re giving me a present that’s meant to be used by you? Hmm, I’m not so sure if I want it now..” you teased, welcoming Tony as he slotted himself between your legs, caging you in by placing both his arms on either side.

“Oh you want it, alright. I’ve made sure it’s everything you’d wished for and more.”

“Hmm.. I would like some more details before I decide how I feel about this present.” Your arms naturally found their way behind his neck, excitement already building deep within as your little banter continued.

“Well?”

“Let’s just say all of your suit kink prayers have been answered, Mrs. Stark.”

No smut just yet 🤭

#tony stark x reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fluff #tony stark imagine #tony stark drabble #tony stark x you #tony stark smut #the stark squad #mostly marvel musings #marvel fanfiction #tony stark

106 notes · View notes

misguidedasgardian · 1 year ago

Text

The Hour of the Wolf (6)

VI. My love, my duty

MASTERLIST

Summary: There is a fine line between protection and betrayal

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, war, smut, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4 k

Notes: Alright…. In the last chapter, I rushed it a bit… like I said… I’m traveling and it was getting late and I wanted to post it… but anyways… I’m here to write smut, angst and fluff and I will deliver! so hopefully from now on I can be more detailed jejeje

“Are you alright?”, he whispered wetly against the side of your face, you barely nodded, trying to regain your composure…

It had been such a mix of feelings… nervousness, shyness, pleasure, then pain, sharp, blinding pain, then fullness, then pleasure again, and now, as your husband laid still on top of you… still inside you… you didn’t think you’d want to let go of him, this felt so right, like you were born to fit together that way.

But he retrieved himself from you slowly, making you wince when he released you, you felt so empty, you didn't like it, it showed on your face

“Are you alright?”, he asked softly, you barely nodded, he looked in between you, and rose from the bed, abandoning it and that made you shift uncomfortably, you grabbed the soft sheets and pressed them against your chest, suddenly conscious of your nakedness.

The candles were still shining brightly, and that made you and him able to see everything very clearly… he turned his back to you and you could see his toned muscles there, right down to his buttocks, that made you feel your cheeks heated

He was as handsome from behind as he was from the front.

You felt a tightness when he walked away from you…

“Don’t leave me”, you demanded, it came so quickly you barely thought the words before they left your mouth, and you almost regretted them

“What did we just discuss?”, he asked, amused, turning to you, you looked down at the sheets, ashamed, “I wouldn’t dream of leaving, my love, I was just fetching something to clean you”, he said gently, grabbing a rag, and pouring water from a decanter in a bowl

“Oh”, you said softly, smiling silly

He returned to you, taking the sheet from your body

“Spread your legs wife”, he demanded in turn

“I already did”, you joked and he chuckled, placing his big hands on your thighs and spreading them softly. You couldn’t look away, as you saw his seed and your blood leaking from you. He took the rag, got it wet with a bit of water, and softly, placed it in your intimacy

You whined, pain and soreness blooming

“Sorry”, he said, cleaning you softly, “I don’t want you to be even more uncomfortable”

He finished with you, leaning in and kissing you in the inside of your thighs making you moan, and then he put those things away, to return to you after cleaning himself

He accommodated himself under the cover after he made sure you were too, and then he surrounded your body gently with one of his thick arms and pulled you towards him. You hugged his side, resting your head on his chest…

Again… it felt like you were made to fit together

He leaned in and kissed the top of your head

“This was Jacaerys’ room”, you whispered sadly, looking around, Cregan did the same

“I didn’t know”, he said back, “I just took it because it was close to yours, and has a nice view”, the room itself was comfortable, painted in a deep red, it felt like home.

“My grandfather gifted this room, one of the nicest in the palace, to his favorite daughter’s first son and heir”, you said with a chuckle, he chuckled too

“Is it true that the King sometimes held him in his lap while he sat the Iron Throne?”, he asked then, you smiled

“It was”, you whispered

“He would be proud of you”, he assured you, caressing your back

“Thank you”, you said

You felt such a familiarity to him, you knew him for barely a moon, you had seen him naked for the first time an hour ago, yet… you felt like it had always been like this, this felt comfortable, and right, as you cuddled even more into him. He encouraged it, holding you even closer and caressing your skin with his rough fingers, the touch wasn’t rough though, it was so subtil and warm

You fell asleep in his arms… he didn’t want to disturb you, managing to fall asleep as well, letting the candles burn until they completely melted.

You woke up feeling a warmth… a soft… wet… caress, when you came to your senses, Cregan was kissing your neck, and the side of your face, the sun wasn’t even over the horizon yet

“I want to have you again wife”, he purred, you managed to giggle to stifle a moan

“So soon?”, you whined childishly, but playfully

“Are you alright? sore? hurt?”, he asked, concern tainting his voice, you couldn’t see him, as you had turned in your sleep and now he was hugging you from behind

“No”, you admitted, you were a bit… but you also… wanted more. You felt his hand between your thighs, teasing your entrance again, making you moan, and relax in his hold.

In this position, it was a tight fit, but this time, pain was not there when he pushed himself inside of you, slowly and gently, caressing you softly and kissing the side of your face.

“Mmmmm Cregan”, you whispered like a prayer, as he retrieved himself from you, and then started thrusting into you, slowly but sensually, in one movement, the tip of his cock grazed a spot inside of you that made you whine, turning in his embrace, your eyes rolled to the back of your head

“Oh”, he purred, you could see the smirk on him, “there it is”, he said decisively, and now that he had found that special spot, he wouldn’t let go, fucking you in that angle that make you whine and toss in pleasure, loosing yourself in his arms.

But he gave no quarter, hugging you tightly and fucking you even rougher.

This position made it tighter, but more intimate, as his body was completely stuck to yours, he was holding you tightly, kissing the side of your face, you held onto his thick arms that were around you, trying to ground yourself.

You had touched yourself, you had made yourself feel pleasure…

But nothing like this

You cummed, hard, squeezing him so tightly that triggered his own orgasm.

His hand was placed on your lower belly

“I will give you my seed, and you will give me a child, right?”, he asked

“Yes”, you murmured

“Do you want that?”, he asked softly, “to have my babies?”

“Yes”, you whispered

“You sure?”

“Yes please”, you begged, as you came down from your high

He didn’t exit you, he stayed like that, inside of you, your bodies connected

“If you agree…”, he said softly, hugging you tightly against him, “I would like to share your chambers, I’m aware that those are the King’s chambers, and it’s not why I’m asking but rather… it is because I want to sleep every night with you, you being the first thing I see in the morning, and the last thing I see at night”, he whispered against your temple

“Are you sure?”, you asked, fearfully, “I’m afraid you’ll soon tire of me”

“Impossible”, he said, “the Lords and ladies of the realm do not need separate chambers, neither should we”

“You are right”, you whispered, he kissed your shoulder softly

“Now sleep, wife, you’ll need your strength”, he said cheekily, and as if he could control it, you fell asleep again immediately, as the sun was rising in the horizon.

. . .

It had been some sort of a blur, you weren’t quite sure of what day it was, or what time it was when you finally left Cregan’s chambers

Now you had a funny limp and a silly smile on your face, he had grumbled and whined about you leaving, but you had things to do

You needed to get back to being Queen, not only a wife

The Baratheon did not take kindly to your threats, but some sweet words and places for some of them at your court had soothe them, Jahaera was set to arrive in the Keep later this day, and you were so happy

That little girl, as did Aegon, had been through enough

You went to your chambers to bathe and change, and then, you received the happy news, Jahaera had arrived

You dismissed all protocol and tradition, you went looking for her like you were a little girl, you received her as soon as she got out of the carriage, with the help of Baratheon soldiers

She looked everywhere, at everything, she was young, six name days, you didn’t know how far she could remember though. Her eyes finally landed on you and with only a look, the soldiers released her hands and took several steps back, nobody in the way of you and the little one

“Hello Jahaera”, you said gently, leaning down almost kneeling so you’d be in the same height as her, “remember me?”, you asked with a soft smile, you were speaking and moving as she was a scared little animal, she looked at you with her big violet eyes, and then, from one second to the next, she ran and hugged into your skirts with strength

“mama!”, it was the only thing she said, you managed to grab her little arms and made her hug you around your neck, hiding her little face in it

“Shh, you are alright now, my love, you are safe with me”, you chanted into her beautiful silver hair, “my sweet girl, you are home now”, you said

She wouldn’t let go, so when you raised her and took her with you, she clung into you like a koala. You hugged her tightly securing her legs around your torso, so she wouldn’t fall, and you turned to enter again into the Red Keep

You shared concerned looks with Cregan who was walking to meet you, and then he looked at the little girl

“And this little one?”, he asked softly, Jahaera barely lifted her head to look at him but then she hid it again, growling.

“This is Princess Jahaera”, you said simply, but you just kept walking with difficulty, towards the old nursery that was now inhabited by Aegon, it was the only room that he liked to be in, two rooms, connected by a common space where there were childish drawings in the walls, and many toys for the children of the family… now to be Aegon’s and Jahaera’s rooms

You didn’t know it then, but Jahaera would clung into you, not ever wanting to leave your side

The first day you would understand, but as night came, and you tried to leave her abed in the company of the nannies and Aegon, she cried and shrieked when you intended to part from her side

So you stayed, even in her sleep, her tiny hands wouldn’t release the fabric of your dress.

You managed to release yourself from her grasp, and exited to your rooms well past the hour of the bat

Cregan said nothing, but demanded your care, to satisfy his hunger for you.

You were woken in the middle of the night by sorry maids and a crying Jahaera who climbed onto your bed and into your arms, Cregan watched the scene mildly entertained. Luckily you had dressed back after your night activities

She cuddled in between you two, finally calmed, hiding her little face in your chest, you only caressed her soft silver hair.

Many would be thankful of the little one, that kept you entertained from matters of grave importance, as when you were trying to make Jahaera sleep without you, nightly meeting were taken place in the small council chamber

“We cannot tell her”, demanded Cregan

“The situation could be easily fixed”, said then lord Redwyne

“But quickly!”, demanded Jason, “it is the Westerlands those savages are pillaging”

Another house had not answered your call to sworn allegiance…

The Greyjoys

Who had taken to the seas and started raiding the Western coasts

And the small council would not tell you after receiving alarming reports

“She will feel like they are questioning her instead of them being just… Ironborns”, said Cregan

“They were on Rhaenyra’s side, where they not?”, asked the Lord Reyne

“Rhaenyra, for their alligiance, gave them free reign upon the Westerlands who, on that time, where sworn to the Greens”, remembered the Maester, “but they never signed any pacts, the Ironborns are and always been… unpredictable and not worthy of trust of civil men”

“We need to end this swiftly, and rapidly”, demanded Cregan, “Lord Redwyne?”

“My fleet is the closest, and the mightiest on the West side, I will send word and have them take to the seas”

“Good”, muttered Tyland, “we shall asist you”

“She doesn’t have to know”, said Cregan

“This is a mistake”, muttered Arryk, the people of the small council looked at him, “She is the Queen! she has to be told of military action taken under her reign”, he said

“This will only worry her”, said Cregan, “and there is nothing she can do”

“She has a dragon”, muttered Arryk, “she might prove herself”

“Arryk, by order of this counsel, you will say nothing”, commanded Cregan

“As the Lord Commander of the Queensguard I too hold a place on this table, and I say, this is wrong, not telling the Queen about this urgent matter in her own kingdom”

“I agree”, said the maester, “she is no child”, he chided, “she is a Queen, a Targaryen Queen, a dragonrider, a wife now…”, he said looking at Cregan, “you will give her no credit”

“She is still filling in her role, I will not challenge her to take to the skies, to place herself in danger, and burn armadas to the bottom of the sunset sea”, said Cregan, “she is better now, better than when I found her, if we want her to keep getting better and more grounded, this is the way to go”

“This is why she chose us”, muttered Lord Redwyne, “to deal with situations like this”

Both men were outnumbered, so they kept quiet.

In the meantime

You were trying to keep the peace between your children

“Move!”, Aegon demanded, “she is my sister, not yours!”, he pushed Jahaera away who whimpered

“Hey, that was unkind”, you chided, “there is enough of me for the both of you”, both children climbed into your lap, hugging you tightly, cuddling into you

“I’m here, I will not leave, I will not abandon you”, you said softly, Aegon haden’t given you the time of day before, only now that Jahaera presented competition for your affections is that he was visibly annoyed with the girl

Now, as you tried to take counsel with Jahaera perched on your lap, your main focus on the weeks to come where her and Aegon, two small children who now the only family they have was you. The small council took confidence in their work, and lead amazingly, with you only being able to barely participate in the meetings

You could tell that what Cregan found comical and endearing at first, now he found a bit annoying, as the little girl would not sleep without you, would cling to your side. You had barely been able to put on your night dress, and now Jahaera rested cuddled against you.

Cregan entered the chambers, and as soon as he laid eyes on you, he growled, you could tell he was frustrated

“I would like to bed my wife tonight…”, he said gently, looking sheepishly at the sleeping girl in your arms

“She wakes up in the middle of the night, and if she is alone, she cries”, you explained softly, “she needs me”

“Being a mother suits you wife, I’ll fill you with my own child soon enough”, he said, his voice made you tremble, “If I could breed you that is”, you sighed

“You should be softer to her”, you demanded

“Everytime she sees me, she growls and hisses at me”, he said, annoyed

“You have done nothing to earn her affection”, you chided

“You made a promise to me, that as soon as you are within this walls, you are mine, my wife”, he said softly, “we need to discuss the fact of having someone else affecting our.. time together”

“I’m aware Cregan, but what would you have me do?”, you asked, “she is small and afraid”

“She needs to know there is nothing to be scared of”, he said, “how is she going to learn if you cuddle her so much?”

“I know she needs to regain her strength, but slowly”, you muttered

Cregan was frustrated, not only by the little girl who prevented him from bedding his wife, but also, from everything else.

The raids in the west had not dwindled, if anything, they have gotten worse, a small army from the Lannisters had been completely destroyed, and the Tyrells were getting involved, at the fear of being affected.

Now more than ever, it was too late to tell you, it had gotten so much worse, Lord Redwyne, soon, was going to need to go home to lead his armada, and he was going to go with him, he needed an excuse to leave your side, as did Tyland

So that, added to the fact that he was failing you as a husband not being able to bed you, yes, he was very frustrated

Yes he was the biggest supporter in actually lying to you, but… his fear was true, if you believed that someone was causing rebellion against you… he didn’t know how you were going to react, so far, you had been good, you had been improving, he had managed to pull smiles from your lips and gleams in your eyes.

You were getting better, comfortable in your role

But you were not ready to deal with this.

He, was doing what he thought was best.

He wanted to protect you

You stood up grabbing Jahaera in your arms, and laid her in a small bed placed in the corner of the huge room, behind a screen, and then you looked at Cregan

“Better?”, you asked

“Yes”, he sighed, but smiling softly at you

“What’s on your mind?”, you asked, “you seem frustrated, and I doubt is all directed at me”, you murmured

He stopped his movements, only looking at you softly

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, he walked towards you surrounding the bed, he grabbed you softly, leaning in and trapping your lips on his, “its not all you”, he teased. He led you softly to the bed, covering you both under the covers, hiding yourself.

He took you softly, slowly, quietly.

The very next day, when you woke up smiling in his strong arms, you realised Jahaera had slept trough the night, and that was an improvement

Another week had passed

And between meetings and focusing on your children, time had passed fleetingly

But something was going on under false pretences and distractions, you couldn’t tell what exactly, so you found it strange when three of your small council members came to you with a request

“My army is sitting idle, I shall send them to secure the Hightower gold coming from Oldtown”, said Cregan, “I shall go with them”, you barely nodded

“Me as the master of coin, shall accompany him”, muttered Tyland, you looked at Cregan, the prospect of being without him did not appealed to you, but you didn’t want to show it

“Very well”

“Matters of importance call me home, your grace, I think is a fine opportunity to take to the roads with the rest of these noble men”

Who were you to deny them of such reasonable request?

“You leave me with only a Grand maester and Ser Arryk?”, you said aloud

“Many Lord from the main houses remain, everyone is returning home for the winter, we had just finished long weeks of audiences, I believe this is the best time”, said Tyland

“Very well, I shall see you in a moon’s time”, you demanded, and they barely nodded, evading your gaze

You didn’t understand why Cregan needed to go, or why you couldn’t go with him to organize his troops who had been camping and resting in the Riverlands, but you stayed within the Red Keep’s walls as requested, the people needed you here apparently.

So with a longing kiss, your husband left you, as did the majority of your small council, you felt sad as he left, but also relieved, thinking now you could aid Jahaera in getting better, teaching her how to sleep in her own chambers

But something was off, you didn’t want to think anything of it, meaning, you were no dreamer, you were not close to any gods for them to grant you special power to highten your senses, so, there wasn’t anything else… except… the looks of concern of Arryk and the Grand Maester in your first meeting after the rest of the council had left, after fourteen days

“What?”, they too avoided your gaze in shame, and now you were getting truly concerned as you stood seated in front of them in the small council meeting.

“Your grace…”, started the Maester.

He did not dare to speak the treason they had commited, but they had received pressing words of concern from the west

It was only two weeks after, not enough time yet, Dalton Greyjoy, the Red Kraken had savaged the Westerlands, not being able to gain entrance to Casterly Eock, he decided to pour his anger to Lannisport, and then, down the coast towards the Reach.

Tyland, Cregan and lord Redwyne we’re barely able to get to a vessel to face the most dangerous armada in the seven Kingdoms, the Arbour stood almost defenseless as the ships were not ready with the men to sail them. But took a ship downriver from Tumbleton managing to arrive in time to sail and meet their enemies

And yet, in a desperate attempt, with the army of the northerners not able to gather with the forces of the Reach… they were looking at a great defeat, a disastrous one.

“And you kept this from me?” You asked looking forwards, further than this very room

“We agreed we could handle it your grace, Ser Arryk and I were outnumbered, we did not want to concern you…”

“Yet my husband and Master of coin and ships… are in sure danger of death… sailing to their doom, Lord Celtigar in Harrenhal…trying to bring the castle and its habitants back into the fold… and I stand here, trying to put order into my own house”

The old man and your sworn sword stood quiet

“What will you do, your grace?”, you only looked to the dragon eye in front of you

“What are the words of my house, Gran Maester?”, you asked, slowly and calmly

. . .

Striking a deal, or bargain with the Greyjoys was like striking a pact with the sea itself.

That family, could not be trusting, they were like the tides, changing and ever turning.

No, there was only war they craved

It was only defeat they understood, for a generation at least

Cregan did not liked the sea in particular, he referred to keep both feet on land, and yet, here he stood, watching the sunset sea in front of him.

He never thought he was going to be this south

“The men are prepared”, he heard a commander of the Redwyne forces for heir lord

He had never even been on a war vessel before, the sigh was overwhelming

“Sails!” Someone’s screamed from the eagle’s nest, and soon enough, in the horizon, black sails, a red kraken flying over them

Dalton Greyjoy

“I hope wolves can swim, pup”, mocked Lord Redwyne as he saw how pale the Stark stood

“This is a mistake, if we fall… she will loose half her smallcouncil”

“That should be the least of your concerns, they just likely take us prisoners and make her pay the Hightower gold for our release” he said dismissively

The old man stood calm, as Cregan never saw him before and he didn’t know if it was because he was certain of their victory, or had given up to certain death…

The Greyjoy’s closed on them by the second, and the soldiers on boards began to prepare for certain colisión with the enemy, gathering long spears, hooks and swords, arches and everything they could arm themselves with

He unsheathed his long sword, delivering a small prayer to the old gods, wondering if their reach went this far…

They were going to die.

Did he managed to plant his seed in your belly? Were you going to be able to put together another small council? Lord Celtigar still was going to be there, as the maester and Lord Arryk, he wanted to believe you were going to be fine…

The last thing in his mind before facing death… was of your well-being…

And he really wished you were not going to be affected by his untimely departure, for a second he wished you had not developed affection for him… because he truly wished you were going to be able to survive this, yet, another loss in your…

The image of your face disappeared from his mind when he heard a screech.

It was far away yet… from one second to the next, everything was quiet…. And then it could be heard again, this time… closer

Cregan raised his eyes to the skies, it was midday, the sun shinning brightly at the top of the sky, it was clear, barely any clouds… and yet… a singular dot, coming down at high speed

“Gods!” Cursed Lord Redwyne

“Dragon!” Someone screamed when a screech turned into a loud growl, and the dot took shape of body and wings

“Take cover!”

Vhaelar took form, its unmistakable color making it shine like a field covered in snow under a winter sun

He flew diagonally, passing over the Redwyne fleet

“Dracarys!”, your form unmistakably upon her back

She breathed a column of fire so strong it broke the first Iron ship in half without much thought, it was so quick then when everyone realized what was happening a second and then a third where burning, people screaming, the Ironfleet, less than a kilometer away, started bursting into flames as the huge dragon dance above them, flying higher than what the scorpions could reach

“Our queen!” Screamed Tyland in the middle of nervous and relieved laughs, “Our Queen has saved us!”

The next thing Cregan heard above the screams and wood collapsing and burning, where people cheering.

His icy eyes followed every move of your dragon, guarding every bolt and arrow that was flying your way but none could reach you.

It took your dragon less than a hour to burn a hundred ships

You left but one, the flagship, where Dalton Greyjoy was, you let him live, because the Ironborn needed someone to guide them, to prevent them from rising again in rebellion, you hoped he learned his lesson.

And then, you flied home, away from your own fleet.

You did not had the strength to face your treacherous council yet, and they did not see your face, nor two weeks after, when they themselves arrived in Kinglanding

They entered the chamber as your were seated on the head of the table, lord Celtigar on his place, Ser Arryk behind you, and the grand maester on his seat.

Lord Tyland, Lord Redwyne and Cregan entered the room slowly, gazes down not daring to face you

As they saw no denial from you, they took a seat, you were deadly quiet, but let them.

“Your grace…” Cregan began

“Lord Redwyne”, you called, interrupting him, “I must thank you, it is a relief to know your armada can be assembled as quickly as you had proven it to be”, you said, ignoring your husband completely, “this will not be forgotten, the loyalty you had proven”

“Thank you your grace” he said shakily

“Your grace…”, called Cregan again

“Lord Tyland”, you called this time, sliding a parchment over the table to his surprise gaze, “the grand maester, Lord Celtigar and I had designed a plan to aid and help in repairing the damage made by the Ironborns in their raids, of course, is not only a monetary package, but resources from the adóbela de, from the tullys and the Tyrell’s that will aid in reconstruction”

“This is wonderful your grace”, he said, visibly relieved

“You are dismissed”, you stood from the table and walked towards the exit, but stopped in your tracks, “I assembled you to advice me, because I value your opinions above all others”, you said calmly but surely, “keep information like this away from me again, and I shall find advice I deemed even in higher steam , is that understood?”, you asked angrily, and they all, all those powerful men, just looked down at the table.

“Yes your grace”, you heard the Choris, and finally left the room.

You went to your own, because they was yet one person you needed to speak to, and you needed to do so on equal ground.

As expected Cregan entered right after yo

“You lied to me”, you accused

“I wanted to protect you, from exactly that! You flying into battle without even a strategy!”, he fought back, making you even more angry

“Don’t you dare turn this on me”, you said firmly, “you lied to me, conspired against me”

“I thought we could end this without making you worry!” He growled, “we could have defeated the Ironfleet”

“Yes sure”, you mocked, “people rises on rebellion against me, and you’d think you’d be best not to tell me!?”

“I told you I did not want to worry you”

“You wound me, it appears that not only half the lords of the realm, but also my own husband and hand doesn’t think I’m worthy of the throne!”, you said, eyes filled with angry tears

“You know very well that is not what I think!”, he said back, angry, not at you, but at the situation

“Then why did you intented to keep this from me?”, you insisted, “You don’t know what is like!”, you shouted, “that the kingdoms would rather go to war that surrender to your reign, for what you have between your thighs!”, Cregan sighed

“The kingdoms love you! They loved your mother”, he said, exasperated, “this is exactly why I didn’t tell you!”

“Not half the lords no”, you said bitterly, “If I was a man, nobody would have batted an eye!”, you continued, “everyone would have praised me for my valor!I would have been there leading the attack!”

“If you were a man I wouldn’t have cared!”, he exploted finally, grabbing you by your upper arms, “I wouldn’t be married to you if you were a man!”, he continued softly, and you gasped softly when you realized

“Oh”, you muttered

“What if something had happened to you? If an arrow had gotten to you? Jace died in the narrow sea, his dragon hooked like a common salmon…”

“I was better than him”, you said sadly, “my dragon is bigger… I flew higher…”

“I know that now” he said, “but the very thought of you, angry and worried because of those thick skull fucks, you leading the charge, in your dragon like you did, putting yourself in danger…”, you looked into his eyes and you saw desperation, “they would have risen against you, or Aegon the usurper, or your mother even with Daemon by her side, that is what these fucks do!”

You got quiet

“Don’t ever hide this from me again”, you demanded

“Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again”, he growled , “I could not bare it, if something had happened to you”, he whispered leaning in

“How do you think I felt?”, you said more teasingly, “when I learn the danger my husband has put himself on”

The mood had lighten, you shared smirks

The line between protection and betrayal was very thin apparently

Lucky for you it was the first one.

I did not check for errors, I’m writing this from my phone 🤭

taglist!

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31

#misguidedhour #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #targaryen!reader #house targaryen #cregan stark x oc #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan #targaryen!oc

357 notes · View notes

hero-israel · 1 year ago

Note

#4 sounds like white people at the end of slavery… “we didn’t want to end it because what if there’s retaliation? There have already been slave riots. Imagine what would happen if we gave them freedom or if we became the minority?” It’s not speculative it actually happened the fears had basis. That’s what number four sounds like. It also feels like you only care about one view point like you expect me to believe y’all are perfect victims that did one thing in retaliation?

#4 sounds like that to you because you are an American who thinks the whole world is America and all history must be the same as yours. So you should start by asking yourself what it is in your cultural upbringing, and what in the media you consume, that has you automatically believing the worst possible claims against Jews, to the point of seeing it as understandable for us to be mass murdered.

Jews did not - and do not - want to live in an Arab or Muslim majority society not because of any issues related to "slave uprisings" you are teleporting into this discussion, but rather because Jews had already been brutally oppressed, persecuted, and genocided by Arabs and Muslims for 1,000+ years before Israel or political Zionism were ever invented. Mohammed himself got his hands dirty with this, wiping out the Jews of Yathrib and renaming the gore-drenched rubble into something called "Medina." No less a source than Maimonides wrote in 1172 "God has entangled us with this people, the nation of Ishmael, who treat us so prejudicially and who legislate our harm and hatred…. No nation has ever arisen more harmful than they, nor has anyone done more to humiliate us, degrade us, and consolidate hatred against us... We bear the inhumane burden of their humiliation, lies and absurdities, being as the prophet said, ‘like a deaf man who does not hear or a dumb man who does not open his mouth’.... Our sages disciplined us to bear Ishmael’s lies and absurdities, listening in silence, and we have trained ourselves, old and young, to endure their humiliation, as Isaiah said, ‘I have given my back to the smiters, and my cheek to the beard pullers.’”

Because there is a long history of this, there is much you can read about it, if you care.

Some very random examples:

The "badge of shame" was invented in medieval Baghdad, only later migrating to Europe

Life for Jews in Yemen: The Jews of Yemen were treated as pariah, third-class citizens who needed to be perennially reminded of their submission to the ruling faith…The Jews were considered to be impure, and therefore forbidden to touch a Muslim or a Muslim’s food. They were obliged to humble themselves before a Muslim, to walk on his left side, and to greet him first. They were forbidden to raise their voices in front of a Muslim. They could not build their houses higher than the Muslims’ or ride a camel or horse, and when riding on a mule or donkey, they had to sit sideways. Upon entering a Muslim quarter, a Jew had to take off his footgear and walk barefoot. No Jewish man was permitted to wear a turban or carry the Jambiyyah (dagger), which was worn universally by the free tribesmen of Yemen. If attacked with stones or fist by Islamic youth, a Jew was not allowed to defend himself. Further, the Jews were forced to wear sidelocks or peots. The wearing of such long and dangling peots “was originally a source of great shame for the Yemenites. It was decreed by the imams to distinguish the Jews from the Muslims”. More degrading and insulting decrees to the Jews were the Atarot (Headgear) and Latrine Decrees. The former was a seventeenth-century decree forbidding the Jews to wear a headcovering or turbans. The Latrine Decree was a nineteenth-century edict in which the Jews were forced to clean out public toilets and remove animal dung and carcasses from the streets. Another discriminatory edict was the Orphan Decree which gave the Zaydis the right to convert to Islam any child under the age of thirteen whose father is dead. Further, evidence by a Jew against a Muslim was invalid and a “Jew was forbidden to pass a Muslim to his right, and whoever did so, even unwittingly, could be beaten without trial; the Jews were forbidden to make their purchases before the Muslims had completed theirs; a Jew entering the house of an Arab or the office of an official was only allowed to sit down in the place where the shoes were removed” . Tudor Parfitt summarizes some of these laws in the following: [the Jews] were required not to insult Islam, never strike a Muslim, or to impede him in his path. They were not to assist each other in any activity against a Muslim…They were not to build new places of worship or repair existing one…They were not to pray too noisily or hold public religious processions. They were not to wink. They were not to proselytize. They were not to bear arms. They were required to dress in a distinctive fashion in order not to be mistaken for a member of the Muslim occupying forces. In other words dhimmis had all the times to behave themselves in an unostentatious and unthreatening manner, one appropriate to a defeated and humbled subject people. They were to avoid the slightest show of triumphalism and they were forbidden any activity that could lead to proselytization. Yemenite Jews were “excluded as it almost always…from affairs of state, and from the great institutions of the country”

1941 Farhud pogrom (Iraq)

1929 Hebron Massacre ("They cut off hands, they cut off fingers, they held heads over a stove, they gouged out eyes. A rabbi stood immobile, commending the souls of his Jews to God – they scalped him. They made off with his brains. On Mrs. Sokolov’s lap, one after the other, they sat six students from the yeshiva and, with her still alive, slit their throats. They mutilated the men. They shoved thirteen-year-old girls, mothers, and grandmothers into the blood and raped them in unison....")

1921 Jaffa Riots

1920 Nebi Musa Riots

1910 Shiraz Blood Libel (Iran) ("In the middle of the 19th century, J. J. Benjamin wrote about the life of Persian Jews: "…they are obliged to live in a separate part of town…; for they are considered as unclean creatures… Under the pretext of their being unclean, they are treated with the greatest severity and should they enter a street, inhabited by Mussulmans, they are pelted by the boys and mobs with stones and dirt… For the same reason, they are prohibited to go out when it rains; for it is said the rain would wash dirt off them, which would sully the feet of the Mussulmans… If a Jew is recognized as such in the streets, he is subjected to the greatest insults. The passers-by spit in his face, and sometimes beat him… unmercifully… If a Jew enters a shop for anything, he is forbidden to inspect the goods… Should his hand incautiously touch the goods, he must take them at any price the seller chooses to ask for them... Sometimes the Iranians intrude into the dwellings of the Jews and take possession of whatever please them. Should the owner make the least opposition in defense of his property, he incurs the danger of atoning for it with his life... If... a Jew shows himself in the street during the three days of the Katel (the start of Muharram)…, he is sure to be murdered")

1840 Damascus Blood Libel (Syria)

1839 Allahdad Pogrom (Iran)

1834 Hebron Massacre

1834 Looting of Safed

1700 Jerusalem oppression / apartheid: ("Muslims are very hostile to Jews and inflict upon them vexations in the streets of the city… the common folk persecute the Jews, for we are forbidden to defend ourselves against the Turks or the Arabs. If an Arab strikes a Jew, he (the Jew) must appease him but dare not rebuke him, for fear that he may be struck even harder, which they (the Arabs) do without the slightest scruple...")

1679 Mawza Exile (Yemen)

1660 Destruction of Safed

1500s Iran: ("After the ascension of Shah ‘Abbas II the Jews of Isfahan faced a lot of persecution. Most communities were forced to convert to Islam. Furthermore those who refused to convert would have most of their inheritance taken away as the inheritance laws at the time allowed for those who converted to Shia Islam to inherit the property of non-Muslim family members. Some communities did not convert and were thus forced to wear a special badge to show that they were Jewish. The maltreatment of the Jews weakened their community ties and influence throughout the region. By 1889 there were only around four hundred Jewish families left in Isfahan and most very poor.... by the middle 20th century 80% of the Jews of Isfahan lived on the verge of poverty.")

There's so much more I really don't know where to start or where to end. Afghanistan revoked all Jewish citizenship in 1933. Turkey banned all Jewish names and held massive antisemitic pogroms in 1934. Iraq banned Hebrew schools and Hebrew names in 1936, pogroms throughout Libya 1945, Syria fired all Jewish government employees 1946. Tripoli pogrom 1785. Algiers 1805. Cairo 1844. Istanbul 1870. Safed 1517 and 1799. Jerusalem 1665 and 1720. Granada Massacre 1066. Fez Massacre 1033. How many Wiki links do you want, how many textbooks?

This is an old, old conflict, and the Americanized "colonizer / slave plantation" frame is off-topic.

#Arab antisemitism #Muslim antisemitism #Judaism #Israel #Palestine #jumblr

480 notes · View notes