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miekasa · 4 years ago

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daylight’s wasting (you better kiss me)

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x reader

↯ genre and warnings: college au, fluff, someone please be gentle with this boy i’m begging you, jean and eren pretending they don’t give a fuck about each other whilst actually being best bros for the win

↯ word count: 2k

↯ summary: based off of that reddit post about some guy talking about his girlfriend washing his hair for the first time + hoping it fills a request for someone asking for reader playing with eren’s hair for the first time :’)

↯ notes: this is cross-posted and edited slightly from another blog in a completely separate fandom, so if you’ve seen it before, no you didn’t </2

Jean can’t say that he immediately noticed a pep in Eren’s step when the green-eyed boy met him in the library, but what he does notice is the stupid, dopey looking grin and starry-eyed gaze in his eyes that he’s sporting while he’s not doing his part for their project. And while Jean considers himself relatively attractive, he knows for sure Eren isn’t shy about making it known that he doesn’t; so the brunette doubts the literal heart eyes Eren has are for him.

“Eren? Eren, bro, are you good?” Jean calls, a dark eyebrow raised above his left eye. Eren barely registers the calls of his name, and it takes Jean waving his hands in front of the shorter’s face for him to wake from his trance, looking up at Jean with that same, longing smile (that’s, admittedly, starting to creep him the fuck out).

“Yeah,” Eren sighs, something reminiscent of a lovelorn cartoon prince, as he rests his elbow atop his notebook and his chin the palm of his hand, “I’m good.”

Jean looks at him, skeptical and confused. He shifts in his seat, but Eren’s eyes don’t follow—he just stares ahead, lost in thought and completely unaware of everything around him. He looks like a lovesick little bitch if you ask Jean. Or completely sloshed.

Slowly, Jean leads forward, eyebrows pinched, looking for streaks of red in Eren’s eyes, “Are you stoned right now?”

“What?” Eren pulls back, almost offended, “No, I’m not high—Jean, what the fuck?”

Jean simply shrugs, leaning back into his seat, “I dunno. Yesterday you were so stressed about your acrobatic salt cycle samples—”

“—Acetylsalicylic acid. It’s basically Asprin, and I wasn’t stressed, they just weren’t crystallizing the they way they’re supposed to—”

“I don’t fucking care. But now you look mellow as hell,” Jean cuts him off, “Just thought maybe you rolled a good one before coming here or something. Not that I’m judging, of course. But you’re much more of a lightweight than you think, so try not to go—”

“‘M not a fucking lightweight,” Eren groans, “You and Reiner are just heavy bodied.”

“Just admit you can’t hold your shit, Jaeger.”

“I’m not admitting shit. Mikasa makes strong drinks, that’s all.”

Jean grits his teeth at Eren’s stubborn antics, but lets it go. It’s not like the conversation was going anywhere, anyways. “If you’re not baked, then what’s got your head in the clouds?”

Eren shifts in his seat now, pulling his hand off the table, and into his lap. Jean’s suspicious eyebrow is quirked again, and that slightly creeped-out feeling is back when he spots Eren’s ears going red.

Jesus Christ, he just asked a simple question.

“Not that I care,” Jean tacks on, feigning disinterest, “But if it’s gonna keep you from doing your half of the project, just spill it already so we can get this shit over with.”

Eren rolls his eyes, but that blush is still there. He looks like he contemplates waving it off for a minute, before he sighs. “(Y/N) and I showered together yesterday,” he finally blurts.

Jean blinks. “Oh. So you got laid—”

“—No, no, it wasn’t like that!” Eren corrects him, the red on his ears spreading to his cheeks slowly, with every word that spills out of his mouth. Eren stutters, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, “She just… She washed my hair.”

Eren sighs, flustered and frustrated, and annoyed that he looks like this in front of Jean’s horse-faced ass of all people; but he knows, that no matter how much shit Jean talks, he can rely on him. For better or (often times) for worse.

And Jean, for as hotheaded as he can get, and for as much as Eren annoys the shit of out him, knows how to read a room; and in this moment, he can see that Eren is actually coming to him with genuine emotions, other than masked anger and abrasiveness. So, the both of them concede; pull back from their usual pointed commentary, and listen to what the other has to say.

“Ah,” Jean comments, lamely; an embarrassed blush of his own growing on his face at his stupidity. The two sit in silence for a moment, before Jean speaks up again, “It’s, uh… It’s nice, right?”

Eren’s eyes snap to him, wide. He almost completely forgot that Jean’s in a committed relationship, too. The two don’t often go to each other for relationship advice, or… relationship venting, but Eren makes a mental note that maybe, just maybe, he should.

“Yeah,” Eren admits, “I don’t, uh, I don’t know how to explain it. It was just—”

“Relaxing?”

“Yeah. Like all the bullshit from school just melted away all of a sudden,” Eren confesses, “All she fucking did was wash my hair and hum for, like, five minutes, but I feel like… I don’t know. Good.”

Jean hums, acknowledging Eren’s words and mulling them over. “Loved,” he chimes in with an awkward cough, “Pretty sure that’s the word you’re looking for, Jaeger.”

Eren chokes on air, his eyes darting around the room. So, yeah, it’s still a little awkward, talking with Jean of all people about his relationship, and love, and all that gushy stuff; but, even Eren can admit, it’s comforting to know that someone knows what he’s feeling—even if that someone is Jean.

“You should tell her. Girls like that shit, when you tell em what you’re thinking, you know?” Jean comments, picking up his pen to resume scribbling in his notebook. He sounds nonchalant, but from the redness on his face, Eren can tell he’s just as flustered, and probably thinking about his own girlfriend. “Besides, you’ve been together for a long ass time now. Don’t know what you’re waiting for at this point.”

“Yeah,” Eren coughs, pretending to resume his own homework, “Yeah, I think I will.”

“Good,” Jean nods, “Now will you fucking paste your paragraph in the Google Doc so I can rewrite it and make it coherent.”

“Fuck you, it’s coherent as is.”

“As if. I’ve read your shit before, and it sounds like it was written by six year old on meth. You science majors can’t write to save your life.”

“Tough talk from someone who can’t do basic addition.”

“Derivatives and shit aren’t basic addition, they were created by a man who died a virgin. Tells me everything I need to know about them and you.”

Three days later, Eren finds himself alone in your off-campus apartment, laying on your bed, stomach to the mattress, while he tries to convince himself to study for his upcoming biology exam. He finds looking around your room to be much more interesting, though, and takes the time to notice things he hadn’t before.

There’s a small strip of images of the two of your in a clear mason jar on your nightstand—the newest addition to your collection—from the photo booth at the ice-skating rink you went to last week. Eren doesn’t know why you insist on going to every photo booth you come across, but who is he to deny you the pictures.

When he looks to your closet, he isn’t surprised to see two of his hoodies, one of his warm-up soccer uniforms, and last season’s hockey jersey hanging up. What does surprise him, is the way they’re all hung up next to each other, like they have their own little section amongst your clothing; like they were reserved, special almost. He bets they’re all probably washed and clean, too; because you take care of his things like that.

He thinks about how he has a few pairs of sweatpants and pajamas—hell, even a pair of slacks and a button-down from one of your fancier dates—all tucked away in his very own drawer in your dresser. The bucket hats thats you claim are oh-so ugly still have their own place in your room, hanging next to your belts. Even his psychology textbook sits on your desk, clearly set aside for him and taken care of, but still integrated amongst your other belongings.

You seem to be the only person who thinks Eren and all his baggage can have a place in your life. You seem to always have space for things to fit in, no matter how stupid, or ugly, or tattered they are; no matter how emotional, or lost, or impulsive he is. Nothing is out of place here, himself included.

Lost in his thoughts, Eren doesn’t register the sound of your front door opening, or your footsteps growing louder. In fact, he doesn’t register that you’re home at all, until you come padding into your bedroom, shaking your backpack off of your shoulders and setting it next to his on the ground.

“Hey, baby,” you greet him, almost offhandedly, as you place your coffee down on your desk. He doesn’t mind—actually the element of practiced casualness in your tone brings a kind of warmth to him, and makes his stomach flutter.

“Hey,” he smiles, a stupidly fond look in his eye as his watched you shimmy your jacket off of your shoulders.

Eren sits himself upwards, shifting so that his long legs dangle off the edge of your bed as he watching your silhouette move throughout your bedroom. When you’re finished removing all your layers and jewelry, you finally look to him, greeting him a second time as you walk towards him and your bed.

Eren cages you in when you reach him, his ankles wrapped on top of each other as he secures you standing between his legs. He wraps his arms loosely around your waist, while your fingers crawl up the nape of his neck.

“Your hair’s dry,” you hum, your fingers raking through his brown locks as if to make your point, “You didn’t shower yet?”

Eren shakes his head lightly, craning his neck forwards to tuck the cold tip of his nose into your collar. He holds you a little tighter when you smooth his hair down, one of your hands resting against the back of his neck, and lightly scraping at the hairs near his nape.

“How come?” you question innocently, “I thought your classes ended a few hours ago—did your lab go late again? You should tell your TA you have a life outside of trying to culture bacteria in a dish, you know.”

Eren chuckles lightly, but feels the concern in your voice tug heavily at his heart strings. You seem to really hate his lab TA.

“Wasn’t him this time,” Eren mumbles against your skin, “Was waiting for you.”

“Yeah? That gonna be a regular thing, now?”

“Wouldn’t mind,” Eren confesses, words barely audible as he buries his face into your neck. He tries tickle you with his eyelashes, shift the heat towards you, but you move out of reach too quickly; your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to sit upright.

He has to look up you, just slightly, and he hopes he doesn’t look like a complete blushing idiot. If he does, you don’t seem to mind, if the way you cup his face between your hands is any indication.

“Well then, come on. I bought two new loofahs yesterday.”

Eren follows you to the bathroom with a smile, borderline giggling with excitement all the way to the shower. When it comes down to it, he relishes in the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp, suds of shampoo cascading down his neck as you find amusement in coiling his hair into a bubbly mohawk.

It’s so mundane, so simple, yet overwhelmingly intimate the way you’re taking care of him—the way you always take care of him. It fills Eren to the brim with emotions he can’t even begin to convey with words.

And when you’ve had you’re fun, and made sure his hair is throughly clean and smells like apples, you take your body wash on the ball of his (his! his very own!) loofah, and scrub away at his back, down his shoulders, across his torso; and Eren can’t stop the tears from falling.

He realizes his must look bizzare, to be standing the middle of your shower, crying like a baby with soap and suds all over his body, but he can’t help himself.

“Eren? Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he assures you, hiccuping between his words and sniffling away any more tears that threaten to fall. You don’t seem convinced, and once again, Eren feels his heart swell at just the sheer thought at you’d hold even an ounce of concern for him the way you do.

“You’re crying, Eren,” you point out, voice soft, but clearly concerned, as you reach your hands up to cup his face again, “Did I hurt you? What’s wr—”

Eren cuts you off by wrapping you in a hug, hoping—praying—you know that you could never hurt him. The two of you spend nearly five whole minutes like that, your arms wrapped around each other’s middles, with warm water pouring over your naked skin. Eren can feel you pressing shallow kisses into his chest, and he feels his heart physically swell every time your lips make contact with his skin.

It’s on the fifth, quiet press of your lips that Eren knows he can’t hold it in anymore; pulls away from your embrace to look you in your eyes.

“I love you,” he finally confesses, with wet hair stuck to his forehead, and teary eyes. It’s hardly a picture perfect moment, but Eren can’t bring himself to care; he needs you to know.

But, of course, you already did. “I know, Eren,” you say with a smile, kissing his chin, and then on the tips of your toes, his lips, “And I love you more.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren x you #eren smut #eren fluff #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi x reader #jean x reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 3)

i did not expect this to turn into more than just a oneshot, but here i am, posting a part 3?? and there’s more to come??? lmao, im a mess, having a million wips at a time, whatever. enjoy this DIRTY piece in the world of Harry and Actress!Y/N hehe!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 3k

warning: NSFW content (we are taking a dirty turn in this part babes)

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“But are you really sure you’re fine?” Florence asks for the millionth time over the phone. “You know, I could come over anytime, have a few drinks and forget about the idiots who decided you don’t deserve that Emmy.”

“I’m very sure,” you chuckle, sinking further down on your couch, kicking your heels off your feet. “It’s not a big deal.” “Oh it is, but you are trying to act all tough, though I know it bothers you.”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t bother me, but there’s nothing I can do about it,” you tell her truthfully.

“You know, sometimes I forget that you are this wise ass bitch, not some petty loser that I usually am.”

You snort at her words laughing loudly. Florence is by far one of the funniest people you know, she never fails to make you laugh, no matter what’s the situation.

“It’s sad that I didn’t win, but I’m fine. Really. Maybe next time it will be me,” you say, genuinely hoping this wasn’t your first nomination.

“Okay, I’ll stop bugging you, but call me if you change your mind and want company.”

“Thank you, Flo. Talk to you later.”

Once you end the call you let a long, heavy breath out that feels like you’ve been keeping in all night. Walking into your closet you stop in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, taking a look at yourself, still wearing the burgundy pant suit you wore for the award show. You were the only woman in pants all evening and you felt more powerful than ever. You’ve always loved to make a statement with your fashion choices and tonight you feel like you definitely succeeded in getting the message through: you are a bad bitch.

Stripping out of the outfit you hang it carefully before putting on some sweats and an oversized vintage t-shirt, feeling so much more comfortable already. Your hair is still in loose waves and you kind of like the texture, so you just leave it like that, moving into your bedroom to check up on some emails.

Cozied up under your duvet, laptop resting on your thighs, you start replying to some emails, updating your schedule for the next week. You almost don’t notice the text you get, barely catching the lit up screen from the corner of your eyes. Grabbing the device from the night stand you smile down at the series of messages from Harry.

“Bunch of idiots,” the first one reads.

“I’m suing them. All of them.”

“You looked fucking unreal by the way. Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you read the last one over and over again. It’s been weeks since your number landed in Harry’s phone and you’ve been texting nonstop since then. Whenever you pulled your phone out to check if someone had tried to reach you, there was always a text rom him waiting for you, making you smile most of the time.

“Thanks Xx,” you reply shortly, not sure how to react to his heated words of calling the whole Television Academy a bunch of idiots, though it surely warmed your heart.

“Enjoying the after party?” his next text comes fast.

“Nope, I’m home already. Didn’t feel like partying.”

“What?! You not winning is not an excuse to skip celebrating. You still got nominated!”

“Already celebrated that, so I’m out of occasions.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that. Text me your address, I’m going over with wine and takeout.”

His bluntness in flirting and shooting his shot has been amusing to you since the moment he sat next to you on The Ellen Show. Harry Styles doesn’t shy away to try and show his attraction, or at least not towards you.

You hesitate a little, not sure if you want him here, but something deep down in your guts is telling you that you definitely want him to come over, some dirty thoughts already popping into your mind, but you are quick to get rid of them.

You send him your address and he tells you he’ll be over in twenty. You use that time to clean up a little around your apartment. You left in kind of a rush earlier, being a little late with your glam team, so you didn’t bother to leave the place in a decent state. It doesn’t take long though to clean up the mess and checking the time you see that you still have a little time until Harry arrives. As you walk past one of the mirrors in your hallway, you take a look at yourself, debating whether you should change or stay in your comfy homey outfit. At last you drop the idea to put on a different outfit, not wanting to look desperate when Harry arrives.

Not long later you get a notification from downstairs that a so called Mr. Styles has entered the building and is heading up to your floor. Running a hand through your hair you walk over to the front door and opening it you stand there, waiting for the elevator to arrive. When the familiar ding hits your ear you notice how your heart skips a beat upon seeing him walk out.

“Hi,” you smile at him holding the door open for him. He looks amazing, as always, wearing a pair of brown high-waisted pants with a loose white shirt tugged into it, a teal denim jacket topping the outfit. He looks comfortable, but still well put together, something you have always admired in his style.

“Hello, Love,” he smiles back at you and pulls you in for a short, one armed hug before walking fully inside. “Didn’t know what stuff you fancy, so I got a bunch,” he admits with a chuckle, holding up two plastic bags completely stuffed.

“You really shouldn’t have,” you shake your head at him smiling as you lock the front door and lead him into your open concept kitchen.

“But I should have,” he argues, setting the bags down to the counter, packing out everything he brought.

Three bottles of wine, all of them different kinds, snacks, both sweet and salty, topped with an insane amount of Chinese takeout that could feed a whole family, not just two people. You put the wines into the fridge though you know they won’t get chilly enough by the time you open it. Turning to Harry you smile at him shyly, only just now realizing that he is in your home for the first time.

“Want a tour?” you ask, pulling your shoulders up to your ears.

“Would love that,” he smirks and lets you lead the way.

The modern apartment in Manhattan has been your home for a little over a year now. One of the first things you invested into once you started earning like an A-list celebrity. It’s spacious, you did the interior over once you bought it, formed it a little more to your taste. You walk Harry through the living room, the three bedrooms from which one is yours, the others function as a guest room whenever a family member of one of your friends needs a place to stay. There are three bathrooms in total, a study room that’s always a mess, your desk filled with scripts and books most of the time, but Harry tells you it suits your vibe.

“And this here is my wardrobe,” you end the tour, flicking the lights on in the walk in closet, probably your favorite part of the place. It’s bigger than your bedroom, but it’s exactly what you and your passion for fashion needs.

Harry curiously walks inside, his eyes immediately stopping on the burgundy pant suit you wore earlier that night.

“This, Darling, was an excellent choice,” he smirks over at you, his fingers dancing over the soft fabric of the pants.

“Felt amazing in it,” you nod smiling.

“I bet you did,” he chuckles softly.

The two of you head back to the kitchen and sit at the kitchen island, roaming through all the food Harry has brought. A short silence comes over the room that’s broken by Harry first.

“So how are you really feeling about tonight?”

“I’m fine,” you shrug, but then feel his hand on your knee that’s closer to him and your eyes flicker over to him, his gaze burning down on you intently.

“No, I’m asking fo’ real. You don’t have to mask your disappointment.”

Licking your lips you look back at your plate filled with dumplings and you start to just poke them around with the chopsticks in your hand.

“Of course I’m disappointed. Who wouldn’t want to win? But there’s not much I can do about it, right?”

“Still, you shouldn’t push it all down.”

“I’m not the type to rage very publicly, if you haven’t realized that,” you chuckle, diverting your eyes back at him, catching a soft smile on his lips.

“That I know of. Miss No Beef,” he teases you, even though you could pretty much say the same thing about him. “I was properly screaming at the screen when they said someone else’s name over yours.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“Mhm. I was rooting for you big time.”

“Well,” you sigh turning back to your plate. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Nah-ah, none of that crap, Y/N,” he protests right away, dropping his chopsticks to his plate as he slides off his stool, stepping closer to you, one hand lying flat on the counter, while the other one finds the underside of your stool and he easily turns you so you are facing him, your knees involuntarily parting so he could stand between them. “I’m not letting you think of any less of yourself because of some stupid award.”

“The Emmys are not stupid,” you correct him, but it seems like he doesn’t even hear you, staring down at you with a smug grin, his hand moving from the stool to your waist.

“Mhm, they are. They made the most talented and beautiful woman think she is not the best of all.”

You can’t push down the smile that tugs on your lips as you watch him slowly lean closer. Heart beating faster, you let him do whatever he has on his mind, not finding the will to push him away. Not that you want to do that, you’d be stupid to say no to this man.

“Who’s this woman we are talking about?” you breathe out with a teasing smile. Harry smirks back at you, his hand squeezing your waist gently as his other hand moves up to the base of your neck, his thumb running along your jawline.

“The woman I’ve been fantasizing about lately.”

A desperate whimper tries to escape your lips, but you bite it back in time, feeling so lost how much effect he has on you with just a simple sentence.

“What are these fantasies about?” you find yourself asking as he leans closer, his nose brushing against yours.

You’re aching for his lips, to feel him touch you everywhere. You want to come undone under his hands and the breaking point where you won’t be able to mask up your desperate feelings is threateningly close.

“I’ve been thinking about making her feel real good. Watch her fall apart under my touch,” he murmurs lowly and this time, you can’t hold that moan back. Your lips brush against his, but he pulls back smirking, not kissing you.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when you feel his hand move from your waist to your stomach, cheekily teasing you as he is drawing circles around your belly button over the soft fabric of your shirt.

“Can I touch you, Y/N? I really want to make you feel appreciated and good. Will you let me do that?”

Not able to find your voice you whimper out something that’s close to being a yes, but it’s not enough for him and while you are losing touch with what’s really going on, Harry is very much enjoying seeing you like this, all for himself.

“Use your words, Love. I wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes!” you choke out and luckily, he doesn’t waste any more time.

You feel his lips connect with your neck as both his hands work on the waistband of your sweats, pushing them further down a little before his right hand taps on the top of your lacy underwear, the one you wore under your suit tonight, the one Harry definitely thought about when he first saw you through his screen.

You gasp when his hand slides into your underwear, fingers finding your sensitive bud of nerves, pressing down on them softly. You desperately turn your face, eager to meet his lips, but he pulls back for your dismay.

“Not now, Love,” he tells you and though the words sting a little, you don’t have much time to dwell on them when you feel his fingers slide back and forth between your soaking wet folds. “So wet for me, aren’t you?” he smirks while you’re trying to breath evenly, though it’s quite the challenge.

His lips return to your neck and your hands fly up to grab onto the back of his neck and shoulders, his fingers teasing you around your hole, not entering just yet. You start buckling your hips, desperate to get him take the next step and he is surely enjoying the show you are putting on for him.

“Ready to feel good?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, hands grabbing onto his hair roughly and a loud moan escapes your lips when he pushes two of his fingers inside you.

“Fuck, this feels so nice,” he groans, lips nipping on the soft skin under your ear. He is quick to take up on a pace, moving his digits in and out, his thumb circling on your clit, adding that extra magic most men always forget about. But not Harry, he is eager to please you the best he can and if you weren’t sitting, you’d be on your knees for him by now.

“Yeah, tug on my hair, Darling,” he growls, his voice sending chills down your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair just as he asked, while you feel your climax building up.

He picks up his pace, curling his fingers inside you every time he thrusts them in, making you almost see stars. Your legs fly around his waist, ankles crossing above his bum as you bring him closer, and a whimpered groan bursts out of him, probably because his erection just got squeezed against his hand by your action, his nonstop moving hand now stuck between your heated core and his throbbing member. When his head pulls back you quickly look at him, about to ask if he is alright, but he just presses a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth as his unsaid answer that he is perfectly fine.

His forehead comes to rest against yours as he adds a third finger, making you moan his name in ecstasy. Your mind is starting to completely shut down, the sensation of utter pleasure taking over your whole body as you can feel your orgasm just a few thrusts away.

“C’mon, Love. Let it go for me,” he mumbles, his free hand sliding to your back so he keeps you flushed against him, your heaving chest touching his upper body with each drawn breath.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you pant, eyes screwed shut, tipping over the edge of your climax. “Please don’t stop!” you beg whining.

“Never, Darling.”

And he keeps his words. He keeps going and going until your walls close up around his slick fingers and your thighs tremble around his waist. You tug on his hair once again, pulling his head back just enough so your eyes meet right when you come undone. His fingers keep moving a little longer, bringing you down from your high before the last wave of your orgasm dies down and you are brought back to reality.

When his fingers slide out of you, the feeling of emptiness makes you breathe out in dismay and it brings a smile to his lips as he licks his fingers clean and you swear that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watch him taste your pleasure on his own fingers.

Glancing down you see the very visible bulge in his pants and you reach down to return the favor you just had the pleasure to get, but his hands wrap around your wrists stopping you, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

“Not now, Love. This was all about you. I’ll be fine.”

“But—“ “No,” he cuts you off shaking his head gently. “Seeing you like this was more than enough for me.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you feel yourself blushing at his words, the whole situation that just went down dawning on you just now. Harry really did just finger you on one of your kitchen stools and it was one hell of an experience for sure.

When your gaze wanders over to his lips you remember how he refused to kiss you and now you actually have the chance to pay more attention to this tiny detail.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” you ask him, legs falling from his waist as he goes to sit back on his stool. He glances at you, a soft smile on the lips that never touched yours.

“I wasn’t planning to do this, but I just couldn’t stop myself. However, I’m still trying to be a gentleman, so I won’t kiss you until I’ve taken you out on a proper date.”

“I can’t believe you,” you chuckle shaking your head at the absurdity of what he just said. “So you are fine fingering me shamelessly, but you won’t kiss me without a date?” you ask, rephrasing his words.

“That’s right,” he nods, his smile growing into a smirk now. Shaking your head you turn back to your probably cold plate of food, chuckling to yourself.

“Harry Styles, you are… something else.”

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#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles never have i ever #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x actress!reader

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teddy06writes · 4 years ago

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With Ghastly Consequences

Part Two of A Dangerous Game

{I wasn’t going to do this till later but ThE IdEaS were flowing}

Requested by this anon: “I don’t mean to be a bother but if you could possible make a part 2 for the “a dangerous game” fic that you made? It was amazing!!”

and this one: “ Dude I need more poly Dream team with SBI family reader what if reader came back as a ghost but it’s like Ghostbur so she doesn’t remember everything?”

Sooo....

Dream x George x Sapnap x Reader + sleepy boys x sibling!reader

trigger warnings: yelling, swearing, mentioned character death (its you, you died in the last one)

premise: after your death, everything was hazy; this is an account of the events sparked by your ghostly return

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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You’d drifted, for a while, in a greyish abyss for a while, knowing that there was a choice to make.

The void, though being of course, a void of nothingness, was peaceful, and gave you time to come to terms with what had happened, and come to the solution to the question.

And as soon as that happened-

You were gone again.

“Philza!”

The man froze over the brewing stand, the bottles in his hands beginning to tremble, “(y/n)?”

“Dad!” You grinned as he turned around, looking dumbfounded, “I didn’t know you were coming here- when did you get in? Oh I can’t believe you finally came!”

“D- Do you not remember?” His voice was low, shaking almost as much as his hands.

“Course I remember- well I remember some stuff. Like you and Tommy and Techno and Home and- and Pogtopia- and Dream and George and Ni- Sapnap- oh- wait-” your voice dropped to a whisper, “You know how they were- y’know, my partners?”

Your father nodded.

“Don’t tell Wil,” You said quickly, “He’ll get mad.”

He nodded blankly again, still staring at you.

“Well what's with you? Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Y- It’s just- your back. I- I was devastated- more than- when WIlbur- er- when you died. But n- but your back.” There was quiet relief in his voice.

You nodded, “Course I’m back. Like you could get rid of me that easy.”

Phil dropped the bottles onto the crafting bench, rushing forward in an attempt to embrace you.

You shuddered as he passed through your spectral form, sadly mumbling, “Uh, yeah. I kinda pass through things now.”

Phil smiled sadly, “Still, your back, come on, come on, lets go find Techno, he should still be around here.”

You nodded, following him down that ladder, “That's what I wanted to ask, where is here? Why are you out in the arctic?”

“Oh, uh, just to get away from everything, you know who Tech hates his governments.” Phil attempted a joke.

“Oh, yeah- I wouldn’t want to be there with Shlatt either. Strange he didn’t just go back to pogtopia though.”

Technoblade looked up from where he was sharpening his axe, at first his face reading confused, then guilty, the carefully blank, “Things have changed (y/n). People, change.”

“Like Wil? I rember Wil being mad about something- do you think- no it wouldn’t be that, I was careful.”

Techno winced, glancing Phil’s direction, “Uhh, we- we don’t talk to Wilbur any more. Not- not since he- er- not since you died.”

“That man is no son of mine.” Phil spat.

You looked at him confused, “What happened? Did you get in a fight?”

“It’s- not our place to tell you.” Techno said finally.

“hmmm, okay! So what have you guys been up too?”

You hummed a tune, drifting down the prime path, headed towards L’manburg, toward home

Phil and Techno had warned you that things had changed since your death, but that didn’t deter you from going back.

Coming over the hill, you looked over your beautiful country, the walls, which you knew were gone, seemed to be partially rebuilt, and distantly you could see Fundy over seeing construction.

At first glance everything seemed fine, but as you got closer the atmosphere seemed to change, a sort of anxiety hanging in the air over the city.

Slowly you floated up to the platform your nephew was standing on, “Fundy! You’re rebuilding the walls!”

The fox jumped, “(y/n)?”

“When Techno said things had changed I didn’t think he meant Shlatt was putting the walls back!”

“(y/n)- your- your back?”

“Course I’m back,” You chuckled, “You miss me fur ball?”

“I- you- your back?” He repeated.

“Yeah, what’s going on round here? Why’d Shlatt have a change of heart- wait- did we win? Did I die and miss us winning? Is Wilbur putting the walls back-”

“Wilbur isn’t here any more.” Fundy interrupted bitterly.

Your brow furrowed, “Why is everyone mad at him?”

“Come on, lets get you too Ranboo, Tommy and Tubbo, they’ll-” He sighed motioning for Jack Manifold to take his place, “Well they should tell you at least part of it.”

He led you down off the platform, toward the podium that still stood in the center of L’manburg, at your look of confusion explaining, “Ranboo’s a new comer. Uh- he’s- different, half enderman, we think, eye contact isn’t his thing, so be aware of that.”

You nodded as he pushed open the door, “Hey- guy’s drop what your doing, this is important-” there was a small thud, “No not literally Ranboo- it’s a figure of speech.”

You drifted past him into the room, smiling at the flustered looking enderboy, your brother, and his best friend, “Hello!”

Tommy’s breath hitched, his lip beginning to tremble, “(y/n/n)?”

“Hi Tommy! Hi Tubbo! Hi person I’m assuming is Ranboo!”

The tall boy waved awkwardly, “Hi?”

Fundy cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uh, I have t’get back to work. They’re- confused. I-” He gave Tubbo a ‘this is your problem now’ look before quickly turning and leaving.

“Uhh... (y/n). You’re- back?” Tubbo laughed as if he couldn’t believe it.

Tommy was still staring at you in shock, “(y/n)?”

You drifted across the floor to be near him, “Tommy what’s wrong?”

Your brother burst into angry tears, “I thought you were gone! I thought that he took you away from me! He- he fucking thought- that bitch thought he could take away my sibling! Just- just because of some- of some fucking-” He fell off into hiccups, tears still falling down his face.

“That bastard! He- he fucking killed- he- and for what? Cuase he didn’t fucking like who you were seeing?” Tommy muttered, moving back past Ranboo to sink into a chair.

“Who? Who didn’t like it?” You asked.

Tommy let out a bitter laugh as Tubbo looked at you sadly, “It’s- nothing.”

“Hmmm, well, what’s going on here then? Did we win the war?”

Tubbo nodded, “Wilbur- isn’t here anymore, he- he- sort of betrayed us, and we chased him out. So we’re rebuilding the walls, so he doesn’t do anything else, and me and Tommy are co presidents.”

You nodded, but were still confused, “What did Wil do? Is it why Phil said he wasn’t his son any more?”

Ranboo gulped awkwardly, “Uh- from what- er I- uh heard, yes.”

“hmmmm, I hope it wasn’t anything too bad.” You sighed.

You stayed with them for another hour, talking about L’manburg, and the presidency, until Niki arrived, breathless, having heard you were back, “(y/n/)!”

“Niki!” You looked over her, something seemed off, less bright, less Niki.

She glanced around the room, “How about we go for a walk, to catch up?”

There was something desperate in her voice, and you weren’t stupid enough to ignore it, “Of course.”

She gave you a strained smile, motioning to the door, “Let’s go then.”

Soon you were out wandering through the city, many of the crowds were gone, though you could see signs of life in open windows, and small restaurants, “Niki what’s going on here? Something isn’t right.”

“Nothing is right, not since we got rid of Wilbur.”

You looked up at the walls, now seeming to loom twice as tall as they once did, “Tommy and Tubbo- they’re anxious about something.”

Niki nodded, “The whole country holds its breath. Tommy is angry, and Tubbo is paranoid. They think Wilbur will blow up the country, and that he’ll have help, the walls, the security checkpoints- none of this is what L’manburg was founded for.

“The people are terrified, everyone tells them something different, they’re waiting for the country to be driven into the ground.”

You gulped (can ghosts gulp?), “Well that isn’t good. Maybe- Maybe- hmmmm, Maybe you should be in charge Niki! You- don’t tell the others- but I think you’d make a better president than any of them!”

“If I could I would (y/n), but it’s not that simple,” She smiled sadly, looking around with a sigh, “Why don’t you go find your boyfriends? Have you gone to see them yet?”

~~ “Georgie!”

The King blinked, quickly pushing back the small sense of hope, he was just imagine things again, he thought to himself, he had to be.

“George what’s wrong?”

The voice was closer now, and it was the cold sensation at touched his shoulder that convinced him it was real enough to look, blinking in surprise again at your gray form, hovering next to his desk, “(y/n/n)! Oh my god! (y/n/n)!”

You grinned, “George!”

“Your back!” The goggles were quickly pushed off his face, dropped down onto the top of the desk, “Y- your really back!”

You nodded eagerly, “I missed you! Well- I mean, it wasn’t that long that I was gone. At least I don’t think- anyway I missed you!”

“I- (y/n) it’s- it’s been nearly a month.”

You cocked your head, “Huh, that's weird.”

“George who are you talking...” Nick trailed off as he entered the study, “(y/n)?”

You could see the tears in his eyes as you awkwardly waved, “Hi Nicky.”

“Holy shit.” He muttered, “I- we thought you were gone- I mean- when- when Wilbur...”

“When Wilbur what?” You asked with a chuckle, “Everyone keeps saying he’s done something, but no one’s told me what.”

Both men froze, sharing a looking, “Don’t worry about it.”

Nick quickly swiped away tears, “So your back?”

You nodded, “I’m back- hey, have you guys noticed how L’manburg’s being all weird now? Niki says Tommy and Tubbo are running the country into the ground.”

“Well- they’ve refused all foreign aid, we tried to offer them help- after the war, paying for damages and such after they sorted out there Wilbur problem,” George sighed, “And so far only Eret’s tried reaching out to talk to us, help with our Dream problem.”

“Yeah, where is Dream? I miss him and I can’t ping him, cause ghosts don’t have com tablets.”

“Even if yours hadn’t broken it wouldn’t help. He disappeared after Wilbur- did that thing,” Nick sounded all to broken for your liking, “He hasn’t answered any of our messages.”

You frowned, “Well that's not like him. Maybe he just left his tablet somewhere- or maybe he just got busy doing something again, you know how he gets during manhunts.”

“(y/n),” George tried gently, “He- smashed his com tablet, said something about going off the grid, undermining the server. He probably isn’t coming back.”

You froze, hover in silence for a moment, “No. No that’s not true- he wouldn’t- he wouldn’t leave us! You’re lying to me! He loves us! He’d never leave! It’s not true! He wouldn’t do that! Your lying!”

Nick seemed shocked at the outburst, “(y/n)- we were just as upset but he left- gone insane-��

“STOP LYING TO ME!” You exploded, “He wouldn’t do that! I know he wouldn’t! Your just lying!”

They watched you sink to the floor, spectral tears flowing down your cheeks, mumbling, “You’re lying, you’ve gotta be lying, he- he wouldn’t he wouldn’t do that.”

“Wilbur!”

Your brother flinched, he’d planned for this, he reminded himself, as soon as he heard the rumor's.

“(y/n).” He stood up, turning to face you, ignoring how he’d begun to shake.

He didn’t regret what he’d done.

At least that was what he told himself.

He knew what he had had to do, and he done it, and he had no regrets for his actions, because it was all in the plan.

“Wilbur what’re you doing outside L’manburg? I thought they said they chased you out.”

“I missed it.” He said simply, forcing back the choked noise that had started in his throat upon seeing your grey floating form.

“Did you miss me? George and Nick said I was gone for almost a month, that that was how long you and Dream were gone for.”

“Don’t fucking talk about that man.” Wilbur spat.

At your face of shock and horror at what you said Wilbur grinned, “Oh yeah, I know all about them (y/n). Them, and You, and everything before your death.”

“Why do you hate them so much?! Can’t you see that they make me happy?! What did they ever do to you?!”

“THEY TOOK AWAY MY SIBLING! MADE YOU TURN AGAINST ME! AGAINST L’MANBURG!” Wilbur yelled.

Tears started to slip from your eyes again, “Wil, I never turned against you- your my brother, I love you. Why is it so hard for you to see I’d never turn on you? Who I love has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh it has everything to do with it!” He laughed, finally managing to shut off the tiny part of his brain that screamed at him to stop, “You’re fucking dead because of it!”

You blinked, “N- no! It’s not because of them! I died in the war! Dream was trying to protect me! I died so we could be free again!”

“No (y/n)! You are so fucking stupid! Your dead because I killed you! I killed you because you were turning against me! Because it was the only way to get those fuckers to get there hands off you!”

You let out a choked sob.

“And guess what? I don’t regret anything. I killed you so that they would suffer! Suffer from loosing you the way I had! And it worked and so none of the cost matters!”

“No wonder everyone’s mad at you,” You sad shakily, “You’re a monster Wil.”

“And I’m not the only one.”

He sounded almost proud, gesturing his chin upward, at a patchwork of scaffolding as being stretched across the sky above L’manburg, distantly you could see someone in a neon green sweater running across the top.

~~ “Dream, what are you doing?”

The man only sighed at the serious voice, “Getting revenge. It’s what they would have wanted.”

“Is it?”

He finally turned away from the contraption, staring through the slits in his mask at the Spector that hovered in front of him, “So you really are back.”

“Dream,” You could almost see the wall he had put up when you died, repeating, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to destroy L’manburg.” His voice was cold, steely, too close to that which you remembered from the day he and Tommy had their duel.

“You think that’s going to make things right? You think that’s going to put me- my spirit to rest?”

He faltered, “It has too. Wilbur killed you, and now he’s going to pay.”

Slowly you moved closer to him, across the narrow walk way, “Clay why did you leave them? When did you break your com tablet? You knew they needed you.”

“I- I had too.” The smile on his mask was all to haunting, a broken reminder of the past.

“They needed you and you left them. You put them aside, for this? To be a villain?”

“If I’m a villain then so be it.”

Down below the people of L’manburg were beginning to raise alarms as you spoke, “They love you. I love you. You don’t- you don’t need to be the villain my love.”

Slowly he reached up, slipping the mask off his face, “I know, I know but- but this is the only way.”

Gingerly you reached out, hovering your hand right where it would rest to cup his cheek, “It isn’t the only way. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to cause this destruction.”

“It’s the only thing I know how to do,” There was anguish seeping in to his voice, “I don’t know if I can do anything else.”

You longed to embrace him as he fell to his knees, “You don’t have to do this Clay.”

“I don’t know how! I don’t know any other way to make Wilbur pay!”

“Clay look at me, look at me, there is another way- you don’t have to do this, We love you- we miss you- Nick, George and Me, we can just, climb down and go and find them and then run away together, leave this all behind!”

“Keep them safe.” He sniffed, wiping away angry tears.

“Yeah- yeah- we can build a little cottage, and plant flowers in the window boxes- and forget all about this,” You were phasing back into the material world, nearly by Dream’s sheer willpower as he pulled you into his arms, “And we can forget all about this, but only if you don’t do this.”

“I don’t know if I can... (y/n) I don’t know if I’m strong enough.” He sobbed.

“You are darling. You are. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do this Clay, we love you.”

He sniffed, sitting up a little, one of his arms reaching away, both of your breathing unsteady as you looked up at him, desperation in your eyes...

And then the tnt hit the ground.

The world exploded into fire, ripping away his words:

“I love you too.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #dreamwastaken x reader #georgenotfound x reader #sapnap x reader #dream x george x sapnap #dream x george x sapnap x reader #poly dream team x reader #sleepy boys x reader #teddy06 writes

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cazzyvintage · 4 years ago

Note

Just wanted to say that I really appreciate everything you write, and maybe could you write a NSFW alphabet for Laszlo? Hope you're having a good day!!

FOR MATURE AUDIENCES

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is just the sweetest! He will be checking to make sure you are okay, that you feel satisfied, and then he would be so loving. Whispering words of kindness to you about how amazing you were. He would try his best to help clear you up as well and then hold you in his arm as you fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Boobs. He loves your chest and he loves to rest his head on them during the day and then during sex smother his head in them, kiss them etc. He just can't get enough of them. He finds everything about your body beautiful but those he just adores.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As contraceptives were very rare for that time if you didn't want to get pregnant he would have to pull out (please guys don't think that pulling out is a good way to prevent pregnancy it isn't) he enjoys seeing his cun fall on your body, dripping down you. It does however excite him to no end when you do let him cum inside you and then he sees it dripping out of you, showing how you were his.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has masturbated to you. He's ashamed of it because it isn't gentleman like. Gentlemen should be able to resist their urges, wait until marriage but he just can't help it. You are so beautiful and because of his arm, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to be with you so he resorts to that instead.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is not experienced at all. You would be his first time. He knows what he is doing though... roughly. He's read many books about it, he knows the inner workings of a man and a woman, he knows where all the best spots are for you, he knows exactly what to do to bring you the most pleasure but he doesn't have the practical experience and reading from a book is quite different than to put it in practice and therefore he would feel quite awkward at first.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Having you on top, riding him. Any position where you are on top he loves. He feels a bit guilty as he doesn't want you doing all the work but he loves being able to look up at you, see your boobs bounce, and in this position, he can make his deformed arm at least hold onto your leg whereas other positions his arm is basically useless.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's very serious, he's a romantic at heart and therefore it would be a romantic experience for both of you so there isn't much space for humour. If something accidentally goes wrong such as clothes getting stuck on you or something he wouldn't laugh it off but start panicking.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He takes pride in his appearance, his bread is always well-groomed and he tries to keep down below well groomed as well but it's harder for him with really only one hand of use. As for overall body hair, he has some on his chest, arms and legs but it isn't a lot.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He tries to make the moment so romantic because he wants to show just how much he loves and adores you. He'll be whispering lots of compliments to you, stroking and touching you all over. He might even try to make the scene romantic by bringing some wine to the bedroom.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As mentioned before in D he does masturbate but he feels guilty about it afterwards, but he can't stop when he sees you about and he thinks he can't have you. After you two start courting though he doesn't as why masturbate when he can have you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Something we have discussed on my blog before in headcanons and what I will eventually make into a one-shot is that Laszlo has a mummy kink. The books already confirmed for us that he has mummy issues so it isn't a far stretch. He loves being praised and being called a good boy. He wants to do anything to please you and make you feel good so that you might reward him. He loves your breasts and he loves to suck on them, it brings him a sense of comfort as he does so. And of course, he loves to refer to you as mummy.

He also loves being told what to do. He gets so anxious and worried, doubting himself and that can affect him in the bedroom so when you take over and start telling him what to do, what you like he will instantly do just that and love surrending his power over to you for you to order him to do whatever you want him to

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom. He's a traditional guy, times like that are saved for the bedroom. It is after all the most comfortable place for both of you. However... if the urge comes over you two at the institute, and it's a big need, he doesn't mind pushing you onto his desk in his office, having you sit on it so that you two are facing each other as you go at it

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, he loves you so much and has been deprived of touch for such a long time that you could the simplest of things and he would instantly be turned on. But somethings that really get him going is if you win in a debate about something, like for example the correct quote from one of Shakespeare's plays, your intelligence really turns him on especially when you use it against him or prove it to him that you know something better than him. Referring to him as stuff as well like 'good boy' while making him become really flustered makes him so turned on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Degradation, he loves you so much he couldn't cope with being rude or insulting you, even if that's what you wanted, he would feel so bad about it. He also doesn't like slapping or spanking you, not only does it trigger memories of his childhood he doesn't want to hurt you like that, even if it was for your pleasure.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves giving oral, he has studied female autonomy so he knows exactly what goes on down there and where everything is, he knows how best to stimulate you and get you quivering to his tongue and his fingers. He loves to please you and he finds it easier than traditional sex because of his arm. He does enjoy receiving oral as well but he would never ask you for it. Only if you bring it up would it ever happen. He likes running his fingers through your hair though as you go down on him, as even with his deformed arm he can gently put his fingers in your hair and move your head gently.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

For the most part, they are slow and sensual, he wants to treasure the moment and savour it so he likes to take his time to feel all of you, experience all of you, but when he gets in one of his moods sometimes he really needs a fast and rough moment with you to get all of the stress and build up tension in him out, but those happen rarely as he is worried about accidentally hurting you while doing it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are also very rare, like said above he wants to take his time with you, while quickies can be fun he doesn't experience as much joy as he might when he takes things slowly. However, when you two go at it in his office they are usually quickies as you are both at risk of having someone walk into the office at any moment.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Only if you discuss what you want to do beforehand, and when I say discuss I mean have hour-long conversations about it. He needs time to prepare himself if you would like to experiment with something. And even then he might not agree with it, he doesn't practically like taking risks especially if something negative could come of it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Around twice, he has moderate stamina but it can be affected by what position he is in and what he is doing, if he is on top he might not last that long because of his arm, he finds it hard holding all his weight on just one arm when he is on top of you. But in other positions such as when you are on top, his stamina can much longer.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't own any toys but if you had any he wouldn't be opposed to using them, depending on what toys they were. Because of the time, it was harder to access such things and they were a lot less developed so he would prefer just more traditional sex without them but if you wanted to try them he would be willing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn't like to tease you much, he might say something suggestive to you hinting at what he would like to happen tonight but that is as far as it goes for him, however, he loves it when you tease him, it makes him super flustered and stuttering on his words as his mind can only think of you and what you have said but he loves it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He actually moans and groans quite loudly, he loses himself in the feeling of being inside you that he forgets really that he is making noises, he just wants to express how you are making him feel and that comes out in the way he grunts and groans into your neck or breasts as he feels himself getting closer to his climax.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He usually likes to have sex before bed, enjoying the passion in the night, letting go of the stress gathered from the day and just relax being with you pleasuring you and himself but he also likes starting off the morning with it as well. You might wake up to find his lips already on your neck, sucking a hickey onto your neck, his fingers already tracing down your legs and edging towards your core.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's a little on the larger size dick, but he would blush at the thought of ever bragging about it. It would certainly be enough to fill you whole and make you feel the most amount of pleasure.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Higher than he would like to admit. After spending such a long time alone thinking he would never be a woman he craves you touch almost every moment, he needs to be in you, you feel you around him, but he also doesn't want to wear you out so he tries to restrict himself but it still ends up being at least five times a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He tries to stay up and let you fall asleep first, truly he does, he wants to watch you sleep and just admire how perfect you are but having sex can tire him out quite a bit till he accidentally falls asleep first, and you find it adorable watching him.

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#laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler hcs #the alienist #daniel brühl

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raindownforme · 4 years ago

Text

When

Charlie Slimecicle x reader [they/them used]

They stared at the box in front of them. In it was a camera that would easily hook up to their computer. It would easily record with OBS. It would easily reveal what they looked like to thousands of people, including their closest friends.

“You don’t have to you know.”

“I know Wilbur. I mean I want to.”

“Then why not?”

“What if they’re disappointed?” y/n poked at the box. “What if they thought my eyes would be a different shape and my nose would be smaller or my hair was a different length or color-“

“You don’t have to worry about that. You look like you. That’s all.”

“Yeah but they don’t know what me looks like. They just see the animated icon and they’re used to it.”

“You don’t have to start fast. You could do a little bit at a time. You could show, I don’t know, me, or Phil, or Niki first.”

y/n sighed and turned back to their monitors. One had discord pulled up, where they were in a call with Wilbur, one had a paused spotify playlist, and one had the instructions for installing the camera. “I could start with you.”

They could hear Wilbur clapping on the line. “Yeah! Let’s get it goin!”

The two kept talking as y/n installed the camera. Not before long it was ready to go.

“Okay. All you have to do is turn it on. Here I’ll do mine.” Wilbur’s face flickered to life on the front monitor.

“Okay. Just a second.” They looked at the mirror next to their desk and frowned. Maybe they could’ve done their hair a bit different. Or they could’ve worn a different shirt. Maybe some mascara? Would that be what Wilbur was expecting?

“Come on! I’m excited now.”

y/n nodded and pressed it on. They stared at the monitor, watching their face show up. Wilbur gasped a bit and stared at it. “What? Is it alright?”

“I owe Charlie money. He said your eyes would be a different color.” y/n felt their face flush and looked down at their keyboard. Wilbur laughed and smiled at them. “I can see you get embarrassed! Oh this is so cool!”

“I’m gonna turn this shit off.”

“No no! Keep it I like it. Here wait smile.” They smiled at him and he cheered again. “That is exactly how I thought you’d smile! Oh I’m so good at this.”

They both laughed together, but stopped when a ringing noise came through discord. Tommy and Tubbo were calling. “Wilbur, I-“

“Hey, it’s okay.” The ringing kept going. “If you’re not ready you can turn it off. If you are then we pick up. Which is it?”

y/n paused, holding their breath, then picked up the call. Everyone’s icons came onto the screen, then they all slowly turned the cameras on.

“Sorry didn’t realize we’d have- wait who’s that.” Tubbo moved closer to his screen, as If studying what he was looking at.

“Is that y/n?” Tommy stared wide-eyed as they nodded. He began cheering as did Tubbo. “FUCK YEAH! FUCKING POGGERS- sorry mum. What-“

Tommy walked off from his chair and y/n laughed at him. They looked up at Tubbo and saw him smiling. “What?”

“That’s not how I thought you’d look at all! Does anyone else know?”

“No just you three. I had just showed Wilbur when you two showed up.”

“We should show Philza! Or Niki! She would love to see this.”

“y/n doesn’t have to show anyone they don’t want to.” Wilbur’s voice was cautionary, but they just shrugged.

“Maybe it would be alright. We should start with Niki.”

“Yeahhhhh!!” Tommy cheered as Wilbur went to ring her. It only rang a few times before Niki joined. She turned her camera on and began talking about something or other, but paused and looked back at discord.

“Who’s on y/n’s account?”

“I am.”

“Oh. Oh! y/n......” She dragged out the name as she stared on. “Awe, you’re cute! I love it.”

“Right? I wasn’t expecting it but look!” Wilbur gestures to his screen with an exaggerated smile.

“Philza’s next right? Let’s get him on!”Tommy seemed overly enthusiastic for the reveal to the group father figure, but y/n was excited too.

“Do it! I wanna know what he thinks.”

It rang for about a minute before Philza answered. He didn’t turn on his camera though. He sat there in silence.

“Phil? You there?” Tommy leaned in closer to the camera.

“y/n? Is that what y/n looks like?”

“Hey Phil!”

“Oh my god! Wait can I show Kristin?”

“Of course!”

He called his wife into the room and everyone heard her gasp. “Oh you’re so pretty y/n.”

“Philza I’m going to steal your wife.”

“Okay that’s enough.” Kristen chuckled as Philza took the headset back. “Maybe I don’t get divorced today.”

The group laughed and fell into a comfortable silence. y/n wasn’t sure what to do. “It’s weird being able to like. Smile at you guys and stuff.”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it. It’s like face time. You can leave it on when you play games or you’re streaming, and only we can see if it help you get adjusted.”

“Yeah!!! You get used to us you get used to everyone.” y/n laughed at tubbo’s excitement.

Tommy rubbed his hands together. “Who we showing next? Charlie?”

y/n tried to keep her composure but still felt her face fall a bit. The idea of showing Charlie was terrifying. Probably more so than showing her audience. Charlie had no idea what they looked like, but they knew what Charlie looked like. They knew his laugh and his smile and that they absolutely adored it. But if Charlie saw what they looked like? What their smile looked like and their laugh? Their eyes and their nose and everything else, would he like it? Would he treat them the same?

“y/n?” They snapped their head up at Wilbur’s voice. “Are you okay?”

“Yep!” They forced a fake smile and Wilbur frowned.

“Is there a problem with showing Charlie?”

They didn’t want to talk about this in front of everyone. Having a crush on Charlie was one thing. They’d had feelings for him for a long time now. But they hadn’t admitted to it. Ever. “I think I’m alright with just you guys for now.”

“That sucks. He just asked to call.” Tommy was glancing away at other monitors.

y/n stared blankly at the computer in front of themself. “You guys go ahead I think I’m gonna go.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll come back on in a bit and play. I just need to do a few things.”

Wilbur furrowed his brow. “Alright. I’ll see you in a bit then.”

y/n nodded and their face disappeared from the screen. It was quickly replaced by Charlie’s.

“Hey goofy gamers what’s up?” He smiled as he turned on his face cam, but was only met by a crowd of confused or disappointed looking people.

“y/n was on just now.”

“What they were?” Charlie sat up quickly and smoothed his hair down, blushing horribly. “I- are they coming back or-? What were you-? Wait, why-?”

“She bought a camera and did a face reveal for us.” Wilbur fiddled with a pen between his fingers.

“Oh that’s so cool! Tell me what they look like! Are they pretty? Wait, are you allowed to tell me? Did I win my bet?”

“You won your bet. Charlie I think they’re afraid to show you.”

“Why? I’m gonna love them no matter what it is.” Everyone froze as the gears clicked in Charlie’s head. Tommy and Tubbo, the children the are, did a terrible job at trying to not laugh at Charlie. “Love it! Their face! I bet it looks great I’ll love their face! Wait that’s just as-“

“You have crush! You have a crush!” Tommy started yelling as Charlie tried to gesture at him to shut up. “You love y/n! I’m gonna tell them!”

“Listen I will fly across this goddamn ocean and kill you-“

“I think it’s cute.” Phil tried to speak up over the sound of the children.

“Me too! If anything they like you too.”

Charlie paused and stared at the monitor, his face growing redder by the second. “They do?”

Wilbur nodded. “Charlie, trust me they do.”

He smiled to himself. “Uh. We should- uhm. Minecraft gamer time.”

“Charlie? Are you-“

“Processing.” He cut Wilbur short. “Planning. Proceeding. Gamer.”

“Gamer.” Tommy echoed the flustered boy.

“Gamer.” Charlie booted up the Minecraft world and examined his wooden house. He bounced his game character over to y/n’s house. When they had joined the game they had picked to be a shulk, so they lived in a dug out home near the Pube.

Charlie’s character ran into the cave home. It was quite lovely for what it was; wooden floors with support beams and plants everywhere. There were pots on the floors and on the shelves and vines from the ceiling. As he looked around the room he felt the gears clicking in his head. Knowing exactly what to do.

A few hours later, y/n signed back into discord. They could see a few people being active in solo vc’s, including Charlie. They did their best to ignore it, simply moving on to open Mojang. They logged themself into the Origins SMP server and checked around where they were. They had last logged off in Wilbur’s house, so they were very ready to move around when they got a set of private messages from Charlie.

Are you streaming?

y/n didn’t hesitate in saying no. It was an honest response. They had only logged on today in the hopes of grinding towards gathering ores and other basic needs. But if Charlie needed something, who were they to say no?

Can you meet me at your house?

y/n responded and went on their way towards the familiar cave. It wasn’t a long walk. They were there soon and were greeted by a closed door and a sign telling them to join Charlie’s VC.

“Hello? Charlie?”

Looking over at discord, they watched as Charlie’s camera turned on. He was sitting in his streaming room wearing a blue button-down shirt with short sleeves. “Hey, uhm, so, I wanted to say something before you go in your house.”

“If I go in will you be there?”

“Well yeah but-“ y/n opened the door and gasped. The entirety of their floor was made into grass and there were flowers blooming everywhere. Every single floor block had been made grass, actually.

“Charlie, how did you do this?”

“Well, bonemeal, and some Ranboo help.”

“Charlie, it’s gorgeous. Aww, and the flowers…” They just now noticed that most of the flowers in the room were their favorite - blue cornflowers.

“Yeah! I just,” Charlie took a deep breath. “I wanted to say that I know you don’t think I want to see you or that I wouldn’t like what I see, but I know that I would feel the same way about you as I did this morning, or yesterday, or four months ago. Because it’s you, and I’ll always feel the way I feel about you. But, until you feel comfortable, I’ll be here. waiting.”

They sighed, making sure their camera was plugged in before they turned it on. “Charlie, this is the sweetest thing.”

“Oh fuck.”

The two of them seemed to freeze. Charlie looked mortified, his face pink as can be, while y/n looked incredibly confused. “I’m sorry, what-?”

“No no no you’re just really pretty.” The words spilled from Charlie’s mouth faster than they’d ever been. “Like gorgeous. Top tier. 10/10. On God. Have I told you I’m in love with you-? Your face! In love with your face! Please tell me this is going well.”

y/n giggled. “So you’re in love with me now?”

Charlie sputtered, stumbling over his words. “No-! Maybe, I- that’s not what I meant-“

“Charlie it’s okay.”

He paused, pointing at his own chest. “You? Me you? You do? Me?” y/n nodded and watched as Charlie threw himself backwards cheering. “SHIT-“

“Charlie?”

“Yes! Yes I’m here I’m here for all of this. Oh my god I’m so happy.” y/n watched Charlie’s Minecraft character dance around and jump. “Oh my god. Oh my god! Wait does this mean I can meet you now? If I meet you can I kiss you? Please?”

“When I meet you, you can kiss me all you want.”

“When? When!” They watched Charlie’s camera as he got up and danced around. He stopped and dashed back to the camera, getting absurdly close. “I love you. I can’t wait for when.”

#charlie slimecicle #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle x reader #slimecicle #dsmp x reader

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unhealthyfanobsession · 4 years ago

Note

Omg I love all your drabbles they are so amazing and brilliant I can’t believe you do that for free! What a blessing you are!! I was wondering whether there would be a part four to the vacation au and if not could you do maybe more jealous Cassian but in your lawyer au I’m obsessed but honestly anything you write has me happy!

This is so sweet I am so glad you’re loving the drabbles! I did a second part to the vacation AU a couple days ago so I’m going to go with Jealous Cassian in the lawyer AU. I already *kind* of did this but I’ve been doing jealousy light lately and this time we are cranking it up to 100. This one is kinda long and pretty angsty and I think I definitely need to smoosh all these lawyer drabbles into a mini story that follows Nessian from meeting while studying for the bar exam and then through snippets of their careers so maybe that’s what I’ll do next.

Actually facing Nesta in court was an extreme rarity. All of her non pro Bono work was strictly solicitor. Drafting contracts and negotiating deals in different chic board rooms with little glass bottles of Perrier and complimentary latte carts trolling the halls.

Nesta thought that she didn’t want to litigate. She thought that people didn’t like her and because of that she was a bad advocate. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Watching Nesta fight for something that she believed in, truly believed in, was the closest thing to a religious experience Cassian had ever known.

“And I would urge you to consider in your decision, your honour, the fact that even if it should apply in this case, the very law my learned friend is attempting to uphold is currently under review by the Supreme Court and may soon be overturned on the basis of being unconstitutional as well as unconscionable.” Nesta took a pregnant pause.

“If that happens. If this law is overturned, as you well know, it will not be retroactively helpful to my client. My client who was born here. My client who grew up in Queens. My client who can draw you a map of which bodegas has the best coffee vs the best sandwiches and their proximity to the nearest train, and if that doesn’t qualify her as an American, and a New Yorker, then I don’t know what does.” The judge smiled a little at that. It was a calculated risk, the emotional appeal. But Judge Miluski was already on Nesta’s side and she was a born and bread New Yorker and she had the rare distinction of being a member of the judiciary with a sense of humour. “If this law is overturned, which we both know is highly likely, then my client will be sent to another country, a country she has never even been to, not because she did anything wrong, but because this trial happened a few weeks too-”

Nesta trailed off, eyes caught at the quietly opening gallery door. A man stepped in. Tall and thin and… greasy. Hair slicked back with so much product Cassian didn’t think he’d feel it if he hit him on the head with a hammer. Which he desperately wanted to do. That brutish, violent, raised in foster homes in Harlem side of him that even a legal education and a closet full of Armani suits could never quite polish out of him lit on fire at the sight of this creep. This asshole who was wearing fucking asics with his $4000 suit. And no tie. Top three buttons of a pinstripe white shirt unbuttoned. What a fucking rube.

Except that this guy. THIS fucking guy, made Nesta lose her train of thought. This guy who walked into court late and had yet to drag his eyes up from Nesta’s ass, had distracted her. Caused her to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and smile a little. This shy, light, cutesy little smile that absolutely did not belong on Nesta Archeron’s face.

When Nesta smiled it was a sly, knowing, victorious thing that curled across her lips and set Cassian’s heart hammering in his chest.

This… this was insanity.

The man smirked, deep and arrogant, as he stood at the back of the courtroom, hands slid into his pockets. Not even respectful enough of the proceedings to sit down.

Nesta gathered herself quickly. The whole mess over in under 20 seconds, but Cassian noticed it. Even as Nesta went on and cited the law and the competing jurisprudence and the ethics and the constitution, he couldn’t focus. All he could think about was that little smile.

Cassian said his final piece, the judge ruled, as they both knew she would, in Nesta’s favor, and it was all over.

Nesta didn’t even gloat like she usually would have. She just stuck her hand out, the absolute picture of professionalism, and shook his.

“Good working with you, Counseler.” She said, as if he hadn’t pulled her around the side of a building and pushed her body up against a brick wall the other day, moulding her into him as they fought over this case. Discussed their future. Their passions.

She’d rejected his invitation to dinner, but she always did. It was a part of the game. A game that Cassian was determined to win.

“Who’s the tech bro?” The sneakers with the suit and the unbuttoned shirt and the general shitty attitude all pointed to that being the only reasonable profession.

“Babe,” the slimy man in question pushed past the swinging waist high half door that separated the gallery and the space where counsel’s desks sat. “Let’s go.” He wrapped and arm too tightly around Nesta’s waist and pulled on her a little.

Cassian curled his fists into his palms so hard his nails bit imprints into the skin of his palms. Babe? Telling her when to leave? The pulling? No.

“I’m Cassian.” He held out his hand. “ADA. What firm do you work for? Haven’t seen you around.”

“Tomas.” The man scoffed, “And I’m not a lawyer. Not interested in all that gibberish you’re type is always spewing. Sounds like pure nonsense to me. I’m a tech investor.”

Yeah. That sounded about right. No actual skills. Not an engineer or developer or even a business manager. Just an idiot with a trust fund throwing money at whatever looked cool.

“Well, Tomas. Do you know why they call that big exam full of all that gibberish you hate the bar exam?” The weasel just raised his eyebrows. “It’s because once you pass it, then you are an attorney. And allowed to cross past this BAR.” Cassian pushed Tomas back out the little half door again. “Which separates the civilians in the gallery from the lawyers making their cases. So maybe learn how to show a little respect.” Cassian scoffed, flicking his eyes to Nesta, “In a few different areas of your life.”

“What the fuck, bro?” Tomas rolled his eyes. “This is why I fucking hate going to your lawyer parties and shit. Jackasses like this.”

“Tomas, please.” Nesta placed a hand on his chest, Cassian tensed, and that seemed to calm Tomas down. Not Nesta’s touch, but another man’s jealousy.

“Why don’t you bring the car around. I have to work out a court date for another matter with Cassian but I’ll be right out.”

“Yeah, ok.” Tomas glared, keeping eye contact with Cassian as he kissed Nesta’s cheek, hand travelling too far down her back. “Hurry though.”

“Of course.” Nesta smiled that same tiny little smile that made her look like a doll on a shelf and Cassian wanted to scream.

“What the fuck are you doing with a piece of shit like that?” Cassian minced no words as he turned to face Nesta.

“Excuse me?”

“Pretty straight forward question, Nes.”

“You… you don’t know him. He’s not like that once you get to know him.”

“Sure he’s not,” Cassian scoffed.

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that your boyfriend, who I’ve never heard of or seen before today despite knowing you for years, had a chance to see you in court. Had a chance to watch you all fired up and passionate and brilliant and instead he walked in late, stared at your ass instead of listening to what you were saying, and then shoved his way up here and pulled at you to leave like you were some kind of toy he didn’t mind tearing the arm off of.”

Nesta blinked. Huffed out a breath. “We’ve been on again off again for a while. That’s why you haven’t seen him before. And he just doesn’t like lawyer stuff that’s why he’s like that in here ok? Not that it’s any of your business.”

“So you’re dating someone who not only doesn’t recognize how brilliant you are but won’t even let you talk about your job?” That was wrong. That was so wrong. That was… why Nesta was so intense with him. Why she debated and fought and talked for hours. Because she couldnt do it at home.

“Why do you even care, Cassian? Let’s just set a date and-”

“Fuck you, Nesta.” Her jaw fell open. “Fuck you for even asking me that. You know why I care. You can’t play dumb with me like I assume you do with him.”

“You don’t know anything about my relationship!” Nesta defended a little too vehemently.

“I know you can’t yell at him about his take on immigration laws,” Cassian stepped closer to her. “I know you can’t get a little tipsy off your favorite Malbec and go on a rambling tirade about the corrupt judiciary and your twenty three- or twenty five depending on the night- reasons why voting for judges completely undermines the integrity of the legal system.”

The was almost no space between them as Cassian looked down, gently set his hand under Nesta’s chin and raised her gaze to meet his. Burning with anger and passion and barely concealed desire. “I know that he didn’t understand why you were crying when RBG died. Because he doesn’t care about how appointing Supreme Court judges works or what that meant for the future of the court. And because I know that you weren’t with him that night. You were with me. Just like election night in 2016. And the Kavanaugh trials. And when the travel ban came into effect. You found me. Because I get it, and I care about your thoughts on all of those things. I’m devastated by them too. You were with me, Nes. And don’t you dare pretend that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does,” Nesta let her cheek sink into his palm. “It means everything Cassian, but…”

“But we fight,” he smiled. “We bicker and yell and cross ideologies and disagree on all the little things. But not the big things, Nes. Never on the big things. We disagree on how to change the world, not what we want to change in it. Isn’t that what matters?”

Nesta swallowed. “I can’t risk losing you.” She said quietly. “I need you. For all of those reasons, I need you to be in my life and if we… I hurt the people I love, Cassian. So if I let myself love you, I would only hurt you. And I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

“So you date him.” Realization was an arrow sailing into Cassian’s chest. “Because you won’t hurt him. Because you could never actually love him.”

Nesta swallowed. “See? See how awful I am?”

Cassian moved his hand to her back, pulled her into his chest. “Go,” he whispered. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll be here. And I’ll be waiting for you to realize that I’m not going anywhere. That I can take it. Whatever you want to throw at me, I can take it, Nes.”

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #acosf #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar

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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago

Text

A Different Kind of Education: I Is For Impact Play (Chapter 8)

ADKoE MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Series Summery: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Chapter Summery: A new week and a new lesson, but also a new challenge. How can you possibly find the courage to talk to your professor about your period?

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, dom/sub dynamics, dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, dialogue heavy, conversations about and mentions of menstrual cycles/periods, discussions of impact play including: spanking, kicking, slapping, punching, floggers, paddles, crops, whips, and canes

Words: 10,391

A/N: Better late than never, right? Big apologies for taking so long to get this one up! Once again I've had to split a single topic into multiple chapters lmao. This one is mostly the theory part of the lesson and a bit of an info dump, but the next part will focus more on the actual smut.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

@80s-roger @libsterslobsters @okilover02 @cjand10 @dealorgirl32 @youngpastafanmug @onceuponadetectivedemigod

You knew it was something you’d have to deal with eventually, that having your period would affect your lessons with Roger. But still you felt reluctant to broach the topic with him. It wasn’t something you generally discussed with people, especially not your professor (even if you were regularly sleeping with him). And you could already hear the lecture he’d give you about why you shouldn’t be embarrassed to tell your sexual partner about your cycle, and about how he’d taught reproduction enough to not be phased by it. The problem was you weren’t really sure how you felt about having sex during it and you knew even less about whether Roger would want to. You were definitely going to have to talk to him about it, no matter how much you didn’t want to. So, wondering when the best time to bring it up would be, you checked the curriculum he’d written for you. Impact play. That was the topic for the week. Roger might consider you clueless about kink (as you’d learnt during the previous week’s munch), but you at least knew enough to know that impact play meant spanking. For a moment you were distracted from your worries about the conversation you were going to have, rather excited by what you’d just read. Spanking was one of those things you’d been expecting to try. When you thought about BDSM, spanking was the second thing to come to mind after bondage. It was one of those things Dylan had hinted at being into. A couple of times during sex he’d given your arse a slap and, though you’d never really asked for it you also hadn’t told him to stop. He never hit too hard and it added a bit of excitement so there was no harm in it. And you suspected he might be interested in pushing it further if you ever suggested as much. So, to know that Roger was going to run you through the basics of it and show you how it felt, you couldn’t help but be a bit excited. And maybe you’d be able to keep things over the clothes to start and you wouldn’t have to tell Roger about your period after all. The good thing with having an implant was that it reduced the duration of your period. It would have been nice if it stopped it entirely but at least it shortened it and made it a little lighter. So maybe you could organise a second session later in the week for the more hands on part of the lesson, and not have to explain at all. You left your apartment feeling happier and excited to see Roger that night. But you didn’t have to wait so long to see him.

You’d barely taken two steps inside when a familiar voice called out Ms Y/L/N and you found Roger walking towards you, his hand raised in a lazy wave. “Hi Professor,” you smiled, surprised but happy to see him, “I’m just on my way to class, what’s up?” “Oh, in that case,” he glanced over to a group of students ambling past you, “do you have time for a meeting before you leave this afternoon?” Your heart rate sped up at the serious way he looked at you over his glasses, “Umm sure.” “Good. I’ll see you this afternoon then. Don’t forget.” You nodded but a new worry had taken over your mind. There was only one reason he could want to talk to you. Your degree. If it was anything to do with his tutoring sessions then he would have just said it when you got to his place that evening. No, it must be to do with your class work. Maybe something had been wrong with your last exam? Possibilities were turning over in your mind as you resumed your path to your first class, each worse than the other. Maybe you’d misunderstood a question and gotten it completely wrong. Maybe he’d had to fail you. Maybe your overall grade had dropped. Maybe he was going to call the whole tutoring thing off because you’d gotten too distracted and done so badly on your recent assessment. You spent the entire day trying not to get too worked up about it, trying to tell yourself that if your work had slipped even a little he would have called to talk about it earlier, that if it really was as bad as failing his subject you’d have discussed it long before now. By the time your last class of the day ended you were somewhere between terrified about what Roger was going to say and relieved that you were about to find out.

Your hand was shaking as you knocked on Roger’s office door and pushed it open at his word. “AH, Ms Y/L/N, shut the door please and take a seat.” he said, shifting a stack of papers to the side of his desk. It was only once you were sitting that he seemed to look at you properly, “Are you alright? You look a bit pale.” “Professor I’m so sorry, I swear if something was wrong with my last exam then it wasn’t because of our lessons and I promise I’m not letting them distract me at all. I put so much time and effort into studying and if-” “Woah, woah, hang on. No one said anything was wrong.” Your breath caught in your throat and it seemed to take you twice as long as it normally would for you to understand what he’d said, “There’s not? Then....why am I here?” “It’s about tonight’s tutoring session.” “Oh?” “I wondered if you’d be okay making a small change to the plan.” “S-so nothing's wrong with my work?” Roger shook his head, “Your work is impeccable Ms Y/L/N. Sorry, I didn’t realise you’d assume the worst. I had no intention of worrying you like that. I was intending to mention it this morning but you seemed to be in a bit of a rush and I didn’t want anyone to overhear so...” he gestured vaguely towards you with his hands. You let out a relieved chuckle, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders, “What was the change you wanted to make?” “Do you know what we’ll be focusing on this week?” “Impact play, Professor.” “Very good. And do you know what that entails?” “It’s like spanking isn’t it?” “Spanking is definitely part of it, yes.” “Cool. But you’re not wanting to switch topic are you? Only I’ve been kind of looking forward to this one since it’s like proper BDSM stuff....or like, not that other things aren’t I just mean that spanking is part of what I initially imagined, y’know?” Roger held up his hand to quiet you, “I understand what you mean Ms Y/L/N. And it’s not that I want to change the topic, I just wanted to change where the lesson would take place.” “Okay...” you were a little surprised by that. Where else could he have in mind when your lessons were supposed to be secret. “I thought we might have the first lesson here.” “Here?!” “Keep your voice down, Ms Y/L/N. Not here exactly, not this office. In the first-year bio room actually.” “Why? Isn’t that kind of risky? What if someone saw?” Roger shrugged one shoulder, “It might be, but I think what I intend to show you could be covered as a biological experiment. Let me explain,” he said upon seeing your confused face, “So, as you no doubt remember, first years do a lot of dissection of various animals, working their way up to human.” You nodded, remembering hours spent bent over various carcases and cadavers. “Well, I thought it might be beneficial to show you some of the impact play tools we can use, demonstrating how they work and what effects they can have, but I don’t want to demonstrate them on you straight away. Luckily, it just so happens that one of the animals my first years are studying right now is pigs, so I thought we might use a pig carcass instead. Pig and human flesh are quite similar so you should get a decent sense of how being spanked with various tools will look and the impact they would have on your skin. We can compare being spanked by hand to flogging to a crop and so on. All without experiencing any pain at all. Of course, it is a dead pig so it won’t be exactly the same and you probably won’t see the same levels of bruising you would on a living human being, but it’s a good starting point. Plus this way you could try wielding the tools too, so you can get a sense for how they feel to use them and how much force is required to make them work.” You were taken aback by the explanation and had to stop your jaw from falling open as you listened. But Roger waited patiently for you to think it over and you quickly concluded it was a good plan. You could easily write it off as related to your dissertation if anyone saw and asked what was going on. It wasn’t at all related but Roger was about the only person who knew what topic you were researching so no one else would pick up the lie. “Okay then, let’s have the lesson here.” “Excellent. You really don’t mind hanging back?” “Not at all.” “Good. I think we should possibly wait until a little later before we start, just to let the place clear out a bit. Perhaps we could get some dinner and eat it in here before we head down to the room. You can tell me how you’re getting on with your dissertation.” “Okay, I like that idea.” “Shall I duck out and get us some food then? What would you like?”

After what could only be described as a minor argument about the merits of Mexican food, you and Roger eventually settled on a nearby Greek place. He tapped the order into Uber Eats and then went to wait for the delivery out on the street so the driver wouldn’t have to find their way through the numerous carparks and laneways on campus. You ducked out to your own car to drop off your bag full of books, though you kept your laptop to make notes on. It would also make your story seem more legitimate if anyone did stumble onto the lesson and ask what was going on. The thought of the lesson made you smile. Partly because you were keen to learn about the topic but also partly because you knew there was no way sex would be part of it. Roger would definitely draw the line at fucking his student in his classroom where anyone could catch you. And if you were going to be spanking a dead pig then you wouldn’t be asked to remove clothes or anything like that. So you wouldn’t have to discuss your menstrual cycle with Roger at all. You’d just say you were busy until later in the week when your period stopped and organise the follow-up lesson then and Roger wouldn’t be any the wiser. It was perfect. That, in addition to knowing nothing was wrong with your actual schoolwork, put you in a very good mood and you could have whistled with joy as you made your way back to Roger’s office.

By the time you’d finished eating, the sky outside the window had changed from a mix of warm pinks and yellows as the sun set and was gradually darkening the longer you watched. It was only when Roger glanced at his watch and saw that it was a quarter to seven that he decided the building would be empty enough for your lesson to start. He grabbed his own laptop as you grabbed yours and then led you along the corridor and down a set of stairs, taking you towards the back of the building where the hands-on biology lessons were held. Roger made sure the door was shut and locked before dumping his belongings onto a desk. “Can you give me a hand?” he asked, before moving to the door to a walk-in freezer at the back of the room. Together you hoisted a large pig carcass onto a cart and wheeled it out into the main room. Roger then ducked back into the freezer returning, after a little rummaging, with what looked to be a child’s toy crate. It was made of yellow plastic and seemed light enough that Roger had no trouble hoisting it onto one of the desks, but it was not full of children’s toys. You couldn’t see everything immediately but poking out of the top was a long black handle with a leather flap hanging off the end. “Is that what we’ll be using then?” You were eyeing the box warily. “Yup,” Roger began pulling the items from the box one by one, laying them out on the desk, “I brought the box in earlier and hid it down here so no one would stumble onto it. I didn’t want any awkward questions. Or to have any of them stolen since they’re mine,” he added with a chuckle. You looked over the collection with interest, some of the objects familiar to you and some only vaguely recognisable, “Is that a hair brush?” “It is,” Roger winked playfully, “Kink can be very D.I.Y and the back of a hairbrush makes for a good makeshift paddle. The front of the hairbrush can be fun too actually. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m going to go through everything individually, explain what they are and what sort of effect they have and I’ll demonstrate them on our piggy participant. There’s also a few things I don’t have which we can run through at the end, sound good?” “Sounds great.” You sank into one of the nearby seats, pulling your laptop towards you, ready to take notes. “Right well. Impact play is a BDSM practice where one partner strikes another for sexual gratification. As you rightly said earlier this includes spanking but there's a little more to it than just that. You can slap your partner, punch them, kick them, whip them or flog them. There’re numerous ways to play with impact and as with all BDSM it’s important to negotiate what you want before you start. Being struck can leave marks of course. Brusies, welts, scratches, right through to cuts that draw blood. For some people, the marking aspect is an important part of their enjoyment, and they might go so far as to intentionally make the marks more apparent. But whether or not you want visible marks might be influenced by your job or the season or your social life or any number of other things. Personally, the marks are secondary to why I enjoy the forms of impact play I partake in. But my feelings aside, the nature of our lessons and the secrecy required, means I won’t intentionally be marking you anywhere that isn’t easy to cover up. If you even want to try it out. You might see everything today and decide it’s not for you and that would be okay.” “I don’t think there’s much danger of that Roger. Dylan’s spanked me a little before and I’m interested enough to try more.” “In that case then, you should know that physical pain is part of impact play no matter what aspect you try. And it can bring up more mental pain too, depending on the individual. Which is why I want to start with testing some implements on this pig. We can go through a few things and you’ll get a sense of them and then we can talk about what you might actually want to try or if any of it seems wrong for you. I’m also going to be much more diligent with your safe word in these lessons than any before. So what is your safe word?” “Pizazz, Roger,” “Good. Remember you can use it whenever you need to, even today. If things get too much for you I want to know.” “I know. I promise I’ll use it.” You were struck by how serious Roger’s tone was but understood it, after the conversation you’d had during your previous lesson. And, for the first time, you wondered if this would be a topic Roger would find hard to teach. “Thank you. I’ll check in with you every so often, especially when we move onto the practical lesson and you’re experiencing it firsthand. So, if I ask you what your safe word is, I need you to respond as loudly and as quickly as you can. It’s a way for me to gauge how well you’re coping and to make sure you’re still capable of using it.” “That makes sense.” Having assured himself of your understanding, Roger took a deep breath and smiled again, “Well, I have a range of different implements you can use here today but we’ll start with the most basic,” he held his two hands in front of him, palms towards you, fingers wiggling, “Hands.” You smiled at his showmanship but your gaze lingered on the offered view. His hands had always seemed quite lovely, even when he was just teaching you biology. The way they moved so delicately as he demonstrated necessary scientific processes for the class, or rapidly twirled pens around his fingers to impress new students. Of course, you’d felt them too since you’re first private lesson, the way he caressed you and held you. His fist tightening in your hair and his fingers plunging into you and making you moan and the way he’d gently stroke your skin as you were both regaining your breath. You were excited to feel the power in them as he spanked you. “Spanking is entry level impact play. Everyone and their mother has heard of it. It’s a common thing to see in pornography and even in Hollywood movies when they want to show sex as kinky. And because you don’t need more than your hands it’s easy to experiment with. Do you want to see what it looks like?” You nodded and Roger stepped closer to the pig, angling himself so you could see. Suddenly there was the sound of a clap as Roger’s palm hit the pig’s flesh. “See how my hand was open and my palm was flat?” Roger demonstrated again but slower so the hit barely made a sound, “But what if I do this?” He hit the pig again but changed the position of his hand. The sound of his hand colliding with the pig was deeper the second time around, “If you cup your hand, curve it slightly, you can change the way the spank feels and sounds. Just like clapping.” You experimentally clapped your hands together, first with open palms and then with each hand cupped so that the fingers wrapped around the back of the other. “Now you give the pig a try.” Feeling a surge of nervously excited butterflies, you got out of your seat and took your place at the pig. With a breath and a swallow you quickly brought your hand down. The slapping sound seemed to echo in the quiet room but it wasn’t as crisp as the noise Roger’s hits had made. With a look to Roger for permission, you tried it again, creating a slightly more impressive sound. “Good, now cupped?” You did it again, curving your fingers in a bit and bringing it down again. It felt more awkward than the open palm hit had so you repositioned yourself to hit the pig from a slightly different angle and tried once more. “Don’t be afraid to pull your arm back further. The more your rear back, the more force will be in the spank. Like this,” he pulled his hand back past his ear and swung down hard, the spank echoing around you. “Of course, you can also spank from a nearer point too. Spanking, and a lot of impact play, is best if you mix it up a bit, don’t stay in one rhythm too long, do some spanks with your fingers spread, or change how hard or fast they are. I might give a sub two or three hard hits each with a pause between but then I’ll switch to a more rapid series of spanks that don’t have as much force behind them but come faster.” You nodded and experimented with taking your arm back further, testing out ways to change the strength of each spank, until Roger finally called you to stop. “How did that feel?” he asked as you took your seat again. “My hand tingles.” “That’s normal,” Roger laughed, “in fact it’s one thing I really enjoy about spanking by hand. The sub isn’t the only one who feels the spanks, the dom gets some of the pain in his hand too, especially if the intensity ramps up or there's a section of quick-fire spanks. And that can a) help the dom understand what the sub is feeling and work out how long the scene should go and b) brings a sort of intimacy to the scene that is harder to achieve with a tool.” You hummed as you noted down what he’d said, “Have you ever spanked someone so much you injured your wrist or anything?” “No.” Roger shook his head, amused by the question, “My wrists are pretty sturdy. But a few times I’ve been left with a stingy, tingly hand for an hour or two. Which brings me to an important note about pain. There are two main types of pain you can experience in impact play. We refer to them as thuddy and stingy.” “Thuddy and stingy? What is this, an afternoon kids show?” Roger rolled his eyes, “The names are simple but they explain exactly what they mean. Some types of impact will have a stingy sensation which is usually superficial. It won’t go deeper than the first few layers of skin and probably leaves the skin feeling warm and a little tingly or like sunburn, y’know? It’s typical of spanks and slaps. Thuddy pain is deeper, it gets into the fat and muscles and tissue and aches more. And I’ll go through which tools cause which sort of pain as I get to them. Generally though, people who enjoy impact play have a preference for one or the other.” “And your preference is what?” “Thuddy. Definitely. Although I prefer inflicting stingy.” You hummed thoughtfully. “Now, I’ll go into details about ways to actually incorporate spanking into a scene later. We can talk about it while we’re negotiating our scene. Today is just about the practicalities and sensations involved in the different types of impact play. So are you okay to move on?” “Yup, definitely.” And then, sensing Roger might ask, you added, “Pizazz.” feeling pleased when you saw him smile.

“I don’t expect us to delve too deep into them but I think I should touch on kicking, punching and slapping. Kicking and punching are things I’ve not done. They can, obviously, be quite painful. But they’re pretty self-explanatory. From what I understand about it, and what I’ve heard others who enjoy that kind of thing say, kicking and punching can both be very intimate, similar to the way spanking by hand is, but in a more primal or animalistic way. Punching is, of course, done without any accessories but kicking often includes footwear of some kind. A lot of time it’s something like a steel-toed boot or something with a bit of weight to it.” “That isn't something I want to try.” You’d learnt a lot about how far kink went so weren’t completely shocked that some people would enjoy something as forceful as kicking, but it did take you by surprise to hear Roger talking about it. “What about slapping?” “How is that different to spanking?” “Well, you’re right, they are similar. But slapping generally refers to slapping on the face whereas spanking is usually on the, uh, derriere. Of course you can slap or spank other parts too. For clarity’s sake, if I say slapping assume I mean on the face whereas spanking is anywhere else on the body.” You thought about it for a second, “I’m not sure if I’d be game to try it but I do want to know more.” “Slapping can be fun. Again, it’s not one I do a lot but I have played with it in the past. It comes in handy for particular scenes and there’s a fairly bratty sub I’ve worked with who responds really well to it. The most important thing to know is that if you are slapping someone’s face only ever aim for the cheeks. There’s a lot of fragile places around the face and it’s close to the brain so you need to be careful not to do any lasting damage. Never hit the temples because you hit them with enough force and it can kill a person. Nose and ears are off limits too, anything that is important. You knew enough about biology to know Roger wasn’t making those rules up for fun. Noses were easy to break and hitting an ear too hard could damage someone’s hearing. But face slapping did still intrigue you.

“Well, I’d say the next – let's call it the next level – of impact play is paddling.” He picked up what looked to be a wooden plank with a handle. It was an inch or two longer and wider than his hand with small holes cut out in a repeating pattern over the flat side so you could look right through it. “They don’t always look like this. Paddles come in lots of different shapes and sizes. This is a wooden one but they’re also frequently made of leather and sometimes the leather ones will have one side that’s a little more padded than the other. That gives you a bit of versatility with the pain. You can start off lightly with the padded side to get you in the zone and then during the scene switch it to the firmer side that hurts more. Or, if you don’t have access to a paddle at all, you can substitute a hairbrush.” He picked the hairbrush up and waved it back and forth. “And that-” you pointed at the hair brush, “will feel the same as that?” you pointed at the wooden paddle, not quite able to reconcile the two in your mind. “Not exactly the same but close. Honestly you can get really creative with impact play and not spend any money to get nearly the same results. I mean a plastic hairbrush might take a few extra hits or a little more force to really bruise someone but they’ll still end up sore from it. Or, if the hairbrush doesn’t do it for you, dig through your draws and see what else you can find. Wooden spoons, cutting boards, rulers, leather belts, spatulas, rolling pins, ping pong paddles, anything you can get your hands on. Just be mindful of how easily they’d break or them causing more pain than you expect.” Again, you weren’t necessarily surprised by the lengths people would go to for sexual gratification, as Roger had put it, but it was a bit astounding. Still, you noted it all down just in case. “Now a paddle generally falls under the stingy category but you do tend to get a deeper bruise than with your hand. Different factors could alter the way it feels too. If you put less force into it the pain will fall more on the thuddy side, same goes for if your hits are slower. But the pain call also be influenced by the size of the paddle, the material it’s made out of, the texture of it.” “Texture?” “Sometimes paddles have added texture, so they aren’t just a smooth, flat board. They might have metal studs that are more raised than the surface of the blade – the part you hit with – or ridging that will imprint the skin. This one has holes in it which definitely changes the feeling, makes it more intense. As you strike and the blade hits, the holes do two things. They stop any air cushions forming that would lessen the impact and they sort of push the skin into the holes which means the pain isn't completely even along where was hit. Plus it also leaves these cool circle marks behind which is fun.” You realised you’d held your breath through the explanation, eyes following the paddle as Roger waved it through the air and ran his hands over it unconsciously. You hoped he had something more beginner friendly at home, though you couldn’t pretend you weren’t turned on by the way he wielded his weapon. “Using it is quite similar to spanking but your hand isn’t hitting, it’s holding onto the paddle handle. So you just pull back,” Roger’s arm went back and the paddle swung backwards,” and then hit,” he swung his arm forward, the paddle cutting through the air and landing directly against the soft flesh of the pig. It made a satisfying thwack sound on impact and when Roger’ brought it back again you could see the circular patterns he’d talked about. He demonstrated a few more times before he handed the plank to you. It was heavier than you’d been expecting, solid wood, but the handle fit into your palm comfortably. You ran your hands over the flat part, what Roger had called the blade, and felt the holes with your fingers. The weight made it a little hard to swing but not impossible. You managed to mark the pig as well, stroking the circular imprints with your fingers. “Try the hairbrush,” Roger said, swapping it for the paddle. Its handle wasn’t quiet as long, but it was lighter and you found your hits were harder with it, without you even trying. “Something to be aware of if you use an ordinary household item, or even just a different sort of impact toy. Because it’s lighter you can pull it back further and swing harder. A dom has to be aware of how much is going into each hit and how much their sub can handle.”

“So what’s after paddles?” “Floggers.” Roger picked his up off the table, “This is a fairly typical flogger. As you can see it’s made of black leather. It has the handle which is the thickest part and then a number of smaller tails. The tails is where you get the most variation which can be a stylistic choice or just a side effect of its price and overall quality. There’s a trick for knowing if a flogger is good quality or not. It should be pretty evenly balanced between the handle and the tails, so you should be able to do this,” he held out a finger and balanced the flogger on it carefully, the handle pointing out one way and the tails dangling over the other. You thought for sure it would tip forward onto the tails and tumble to the ground but it hung there perfectly. “Sometimes there will be more tails or they'll look different but no matter what, it should be balanced.” Roger gave a practiced flick of his hand so the flogger leapt into the air and he was able to catch the handle before it fell. “From a more stylistic point of view, you could get a flogger with less tails but they’ll be made of braids of leather which makes them heavier and thicker. Braided tails are also likely to have knots in the ends which can be a bit scratchy and even draw blood. They don’t have to be made of leather either. Rubber floggers are also popular. The tails on them tend to be more rectangular in shape, still flat but they have more edges and it actually feels like you’re being hit with more tails then there really are. And if you’re looking to really fuck someone up you can get hemp floggers. Sometimes they’ll look similar to this leather��one but hemp is fairly stiff material and sometimes the tails will be shaped so that they’re sort of squiggly rather than flat lines. The squiggles hurt like a bitch, especially if they have knots at the end. Definitely start off with simple leather and work up once you’re more experienced.” Roger dragged the ends of the tails over his hand as he spoke, “I’d say this falls into the more thuddy type of pain. It can cover a large area of your body since the tails spread out and each of them creates an individual pain point. And because you’re being hit six or seven or nine or however many times at once, you can build up quite a rapid movement over a short period of time.” You eyed the dancing tails as Roger moved his hand through them, “How long are the tails? Isn’t it a bit dangerous to have so many bits flying in all directions?” Roger laughed, “Well yeah, kinda. I mean, that’s BDSM for you though, it gets dangerous which is why we’re all obsessed with safety. It’s a good thing to have noticed though, well done. The tails on this one are on the shorter side but some floggers will have much longer ones which means the dom can stand further back and still inflict a lot of pain. But you’re right, you do have to be mindful of the length and where they’re flying because a longer tail can potentially wrap around to somewhere you aren’t intending to hit. For instance, if you’re standing behind a person and flogging the back of their shoulder, you don’t want one of the tails to fly past their shoulder and around their neck. That would be incredibly painful and probably not what they expected or wanted from the scene.” “So you have to take into account the length of the tails when you’re negotiating the scene then? And know where on the body to focus the hits so you don’t risk causing the wrong sort of pain and ending it early.” “Exactly. That’s why negotiating the scene is important. Then both the dom and the sub will know what they want to achieve, what they want to get out of the experience, and they can tailor things to fit better. A lot of doms who are into impact play are likely to have multiple versions of their favourite toys – I myself have a few different paddles at home, I just didn’t bring them all in with me today – so by talking through what you want they’ll be able to choose the style of toy that will best fit the scene.” “So how do you use a flogger then? Is it the same as spanking and paddling where you just swing your arm forward?” “Sort of. Floggers have a few different ways to use them. There is of course the single strike option where, yeah, you do just hit them like you would with a paddle. I find that you don’t need to bring your arm back so far though, the movement comes from your elbow more than your shoulder.” Roger bent his arm so his hand and the flogger were roughly head height and then brought it down on the pig, “And you can change the angle of your single strike so that you hit them overhand or underhand or from one of the sides.” He demonstrated each direction as he said them, first bringing the flogger down from above, then swinging it up from below, then from the right side and finally a backhanded hit from the left. “But you don’t have to just pick a side to hit from. Paddles and hands are limited in how you can swing them but floggers have more movement. One way to use them is to swing them in a circle.” He moved back towards the pig to demonstrate, standing side on so that the tails whipped around and struck the pig, “I like starting off with circles because you can keep the pressure quite light. The tails sort of brush over the sub as they pass and it can be a good way to slowly build up. And then you can move into a figure eight as you get a bit harder.” Roger shifted his circles so they made a sideways eight in the air, subtly adjusting his stance so that the tail swished over the pig’s skin on both the forward and back motion. You watched, awe-struck by how easily Roger swung the flogger, falling into a rhythm quickly. It wasn’t hard to imagine how he’d suddenly change the speed or the force of the swing when you were least expecting it.

You were brought back to the present by Roger clearing his throat as he stilled the flogger, “The figure eight is why you should practice your backhand swing as much as any other. Because the tails will hit the sub on both the forward and back swings and you want them to be as even as possible.” He flipped the flogger in his hands, holding the handle out to you. It felt smooth and cool in your hand, lighter than the paddle had been. You swished it experimentally, trying to get a sense of how it felt in motion.” “Show me your overhand hit.” Roger said, leaning back against the nearest desk to watch. You tried to imitate how he’d swung it, elbow bent, flogger raised. It must have been good enough because Roger nodded and said, “how about underhand?” He kept calling out different directions for a while, testing your reactions but you felt it helped you get a better grip on the toy and you found yourself adjusting how you held it so your movements became more fluid. Roger watched you as you tried to keep up, his eyes locked onto your hands. Had you been looking, you might have caught sight of him subtly adjusting himself in his pants. Finally, he seemed satisfied that you could successfully single strike from any direction and asked you to try the circle and figure eight motions. They were harder to start, more awkward as you tried to work out the best way to move the flogger, and you caught Roger chuckling.” “Oi, stop laughing,” “Do you want some help?” he was still smiling but his request was genuine and when you nodded he stepped towards you. One of his hands moved to your waist as the other lay over yours on the handle of the flogger. You tried not to grin too much as he did exactly why you’d hoped, and you felt him so close behind you. “Like this,” His arm gently directed yours, the flogger beginning to move in a smooth circle. “Oh, not so hard then,” you laughed, half turning to face him, “Y’know if someone walked in now this would be pretty hard to explain.” His eyes darted to your lips, “Good thing we locked the door then.” You hummed, waiting to see if Roger would close the gap. He did a few seconds later, leaning in to kiss you softly. But the movement caused you both to forget about the flogger, your hands falling out of rhythm, and the tails whacking against your outstretched arms as they fell. “Ow,” you both groaned, Roger stepping away from you. It was disappointing but the disappointment was a little confusing. Surely you weren’t hoping for your professor to kiss you when you had no intention of sleeping with him that night. Roger laughed, “Maybe that’s enough of the flogger today.” “Might be for the best. Good thing I was so bad at it, otherwise we might have been really hurt.” “You weren’t that bad. You actually looked good with it before I brought in the circles. Quite sexy really.” “Thanks,” you said softly, trying to hide how pleased you were at that praise, “What else is there then?”

“There's only one more that I can demonstrate but then there’s a few others I’ll touch on quickly too. So the last one I own is a crop.” He picked it up off the table, his fingers sliding along the length of it’s handle as he spoke, “This one I would put in the stingy category. It’s fast and sharp. Again, you can get crops in a few different styles. They will all have a handle like this, long and thin and probably with a slightly thicker point towards the end that’s easy to hold onto. The difference will be in the bit you hit with. This one is based on the sort of riding crop that's used on horses, so it’s quite plain. There’s just this loop of leather which hangs off the end. But others can be more decorative. I’ve seen crops which had ends shaped like hearts or that had studs pushed into them. Some of them are padded and some have a more rounded shape. We like our variety.” “It looks scarier than the others I think,” “Yeah, they’re quite intimidating aren’t they. And if you do it right, it’ll make a noise through the air, which just adds to how intimidating it can be.” “Can you show me how to swing it now?” “Absolutely. Now, you want to stand a bit further back with a crop because there is such a long handle. And the magic is in the wrist with these. You just flick the wrist and...” You could hear the whooshing sound of it flying through the air before it cracked against the pig. “Now some crops are more bendy and some are more stiff so, if you get one, you’ll want to practice swinging it a bit before you use it on a person, to get a feel for it. The flexibility of it might dictate how you stand or how strong the swing has to be. Give this one a go though.” You felt oddly powerful as you took the crop and tightened your fist around the end. For a moment a vision of you decked out in leather dominatrix gear popped into your head and you nearly laughed. Unfortunately, the intimidating whooshing noise Roger had achieved was not as easy for you to make as you’d hoped, and the imagined power soon dissipated as you struggled to make the weapon sing. Roger however was not disappointed. “It takes practice,” was what he said when you lamented your inability to create the sound, “And you don’t have to have the sound to make a good hit. It’s just kind of cool.” When you still seemed disappointed he sighed. “If it’s any help, I can’t always make the sound either. And besides, I wasn’t intending to use that one on you, unless you really, really want to. I mostly brought it to show you as an interesting part of your theory lessons. And so you’d have a sense of what a cane is like, even though I don’t have any of them to demonstrate.” “A cane? Like....caning? Like what Victorian kids used to have done if they misbehaved or whatever?” Roger laughed, “Kind of, yeah. It does have a history in corporal punishment. Which, might I add, wasn’t just for Victorian kids. It was still a thing when I was a kid. We didn’t get caned, more likely to be whacked over the knuckles with a ruler, but still. I don’t think it really left schools until the 80s.” “Jesus,” “Yeah. Occasionally I do wish I could bring out a ruler to shut a kid up,” he winked in jest, “Anyway, caning for BDSM is similar and uses the same sort of tool. A cane, funnily enough. Canes are long and thin like a crop but without the leather flap at the end or the more padded handle area. Traditionally they’re made from rattan which is a type of plant, but you can also get synthetic canes which are covered in leather. In my experience synthetic canes are actually harder. Not to use, I mean in the way they feel when you’re hit with them. The traditional rattan ones require a lot of maintenance though. You have to water them between uses, literally soaking them in a bath of water so they don’t dry out and break. But the benefit with a rattan cane is that if you get it home and realise you’d like something a bit shorter, you can cut it off yourself and just sandpaper down the rough edge and it’s good as new.” “So are there any different version aside from synthetic? All the other toys had lots of variety.” “Hmmm, not really. Most of the difference will be in how thick the cane is, which can effect the feel of it a lot. A thinner cane will sting when it hits and the force will make the skin hug the cane so it leaves these long marks behind. A thicker cane though might sting less but it’ll still hurt a lot, just more thuddy. And you tend to get more bruising from the thicker ones.” “And do you use it the same as a crop?” “Mostly, yes. The biggest difference is that you can use a larger section of a cane. The crop has the specific bit at the end to hit with whereas a cane doesn’t have that limit. The most important thing to remember is to try and aim a little short of where you want to hit because if you hit with a part of the cane six inches down, those top six inches are going to hit as well, and with force behind them they will wrap around the person’s side or arse or whatever until they make contact. But other than that, it’s a similar motion from the wrist and uses a similar amount of energy. And canes can make the cool whippy noise too.”

“Is that everything then?” “One last one, really quick. Whips.” “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of whipping in kink.” “Yeah, it’s one of those things that gets mentioned a lot even if comparatively fewer people are actually into it. But everyone’s heard the phrase chains and whips in relation to BDSM. There's a few different varieties of whips but I don’t really know enough about them to know the difference. They all look like whips to me. Very cowboy. But they’re one of the more intense versions of impact play. The pain they cause is quite sharp and stingy and will be very localised to a specific point because they have the one tail, as opposed to floggers which have multiple tails. Whips are very capable of breaking the skin though and feel very intensely painful. I do not recommend them unless you discover you’re a masochist and you’ve tried everything else impact play has to offer.” “No need to tell me twice, Professor. Definitely do not want to try whips any time soon.” “That’s very reasonable. And that is all of the impact play options I wanted to go through. There’s a little more to cover regarding safety before I let you go for the night, but how about we put the pig away and hope no one notices it’s been marked by crops and floggers.” You chuckled and quickly moved to help Roger push the trolley back towards the freezer, locking the dead pig away securely, and to help pack up his toys. When everything was tidy again you re-took your seat, Roger taking the one beside you. It made the end of the lesson feel less like a lesson and more of just a casual chat, the topic of which happened to be BDSM. “The most important thing to remember when trying impact play is which parts of the body are safest to hit.” He paused for a moment, considering you, “But you’ve been studying biology for a while now, Ms Y/L/N. Care to guess which parts are safe and which parts you should avoid?” You hadn’t expected to be asked so took a moment to consider your answer, “Well, the arse obviously. Ummm.... I guess I’d assume the best places to hit are the bits with more meat on them.” “Very good. Entirely correct. There’s a reason most people think about spanking on the arse and that’s because it’s one of the best places to spank. Well, that and the fact that spanking is used so frequently in punishment scenes where you bend the naughty girl over your knee. But, yes, hitting the arse is good. Hitting the thighs can also be good, though the bit just under the arse cheek where it connects to the thighs hurts a lot. Which isn’t to say don’t ever spank there, just be mindful that it’s going to hurt more than directly on the arse cheeks. The pecks or breasts can be good places to hit, even the upper back where the shoulder blade is can be good. What about places to avoid hitting? Any ideas what those might be?” You hummed in thought, “I’d imagine you wouldn’t want to hit the spine since it’s so important.” “Right again Ms Y/L/N. The spine is definitely something to avoid. I don’t like hitting on the back much at all because there's too much important stuff there but I do know some others who don’t mind using a flogger there, especially while warming up before things get too intense. There are also the kidneys to watch out for,” he moved his hand to press against the spot on his own back, “because, as you no doubt know, part of the kidneys stick out under the ribcage so aren’t fully protected. Then a little lower down, just above the arse, is the tailbone which should also be avoided. “What about the neck? That would be bad to hit too, right?” “Yup. And that’s something to watch for if you’re doing anything on the shoulder blades. The spine of course runs all the way up the back of the neck and hitting there can do some very serious and lasting damage if you’re not careful. I know some people who will only flog the shoulder blades if the sub is wearing a collar because that adds a bit of protection around the C5 and C6 vertebrae but even so, better safe than sorry in my opinion. The front of the neck is also not good to hit since that’s where the vocal cords and all that is.” “Which is why you have to be careful with a flogger’s tails, right?” “Right. But what about on the front? Is there anywhere else you’d avoid?” “Pussy,” you said with a laugh. Roger laughed too, “Actually, depending on how it’s done, spanking a pussy can be quite enjoyable.” “Wait really?” “Yeah. I prefer doing it with my hand since you can feel when it makes the sub wet but it’s not totally unusual to use paddles or crops or even floggers down there too. I’m sure some people whip as well.” You gulped at the thought. “The biggest area to avoid on a person’s front side is the diaphragm and middle of the chest. There’s a lot of important stuff in there and a lot less tissue than elsewhere.” “Do people get badly hurt doing impact play?” you glanced over the list of places Roger said to avoid. It made it seem like almost any spanking was running the risk of more than just some bad bruising. “Sometimes.” Roger said seriously. He paused for a moment, thinking, and then continued, “Things can go wrong. And when you’re playing with intentionally hurting someone, things going wrong can be very serious. I won’t pretend there aren’t stories of people trying impact play and ending up paralysed or worse. But if you’re careful, if you pay attention and only hit certain areas and are mindful of how hard you’re hitting, then you’re going to be fine. And that’s why we come up with safe words and talk through scenes before we do them. So that you can minimize those risks and have a chance to communicate any worries or concerns.” “But how can safe words help if you say them after you’ve already been hurt too much?” “Well, for one, even if you’ve been hurt badly, using your safe word can stop things from being made worse. But you don’t have to wait until you’re hurt to use the safe word. Yes, if I spank you four times in a row and the fourth one feels so bad you can’t go on, then you should use your safe word before I give you a fifth. But you could also use it after the third hit when you aren’t sure if you want the fourth. And safe words aren’t just about physical pain. If you start off excited but then feel anxious after two hits you are well within your rights to safe word. You don’t have to wait until the damage is done. And, obviously, it’s not always easy to tell if that one hit more is going to be enough to make you want to stop. You can’t always know if the next hit is going to catch your neck wrong and do serious damage. But if you feel at all worried that it might, speak up. Not just worried either. If you feel distracted or you think I’m not paying enough attention to how I’m spanking you, or if I move to spank and area you don’t want me to touch, tell me. There is no wrong reason to use a safe word, even if we’re only a few minutes into the scene. I’ve said before that I’d rather you tell me to stop than for us to go on and you not feel comfortable, and I mean it.” “I know, I guess I just never really thought about it being for mental stuff as well as physical.” “Mmm, I should have checked that.” “Well, let’s face it, you probably tried and I just didn’t pay attention. But, y’know, you’re very good at reassuring me when I start to get nervous.” “I hope that’s a good thing.” “It definitely is. I think if I didn’t have the reassurance, I’d chicken out of some things.” “As long as you’re aware of the difference between some healthy nerves and anxiety that could be a sign you should slow down. And that you keep telling me how you’re feeling.” “Of course I will.” “Good girl.”

An understanding seemed to pass between you as you sat in near silence, eyes on the other. Until Roger drew in a long breath and stood up. “Right well, I think that’s just about everything. Obviously we weren’t able to see the levels of bruising that different implements can cause but it’s kind of dependent on the individual anyway. Everything can influence the severity of bruises and other marks. Tell me what a bruise is.” “It’s broken blood vessels under the skin which cause discolouration.” “Bingo. Now, obviously being spanked with a hand will leave less obvious bruises than being hit with a crop will and usually a paddle will bruise less than....i don’t know, a leather belt. But there's lots of factors to consider. The sub’s age, diet, the colour of their skin, their hydration level, how much sun exposure they’ve had recently, stress levels, hormones. And the biggest of all is how much stimulus they receive on that part of the body. The more you hit a spot, the deeper it will bruise. So, don’t expect bruises and marks to appear exactly the same every time you make them. There are some ways to heighten or lessen marks left during BDSM, but I’ll go through those when you’re ready for our practical lessons. And we’ll also go through some ideas for popular scenes and positions before we settle on what our scene will look like.” Roger seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, “Of course, it’s not so late we have to stop. If you did want to start testing out some light impact play, or if you wanted to revisit a previous topic, you’re more than welcome to come back to mine.” “No,” you said much too fast, the suggestion catching you completely off guard. “Okay, no problem,” Roger said, his eyes downcast. “I didn’t mean...just that tonight’s not great timing.” You’d really thought you’d got out of having to talk about it but you could see Roger was going to ask what you were talking about when on a regular tutoring night you’d likely still be in his bed. All the same you couldn’t quite make eye contact as you explained, “My period started last night, that’s all. Makes things a bit awkward.” “Oh is that all?” You shrugged, “Yeah.” “Well there’s no need to feel awkward or embarrassed about that. And there’s no reason to hide it from me. Aside from the fact that I’ve been married and had kids, I’ve also been teaching biology for longer than I care to count, so I’m very familiar with the reproductive processes and the reality of the menstrual cycle.” “I knew you were going to say something like that.” “Because it’s true. And besides, periods are important to factor into our lessons because they can change how you’ll respond to various kinks. Fluctuating hormone levels can change how much you enjoy or desire sex, as well as the physical sensation of different forms of touch. A lot of women find breast stimulation uncomfortable in the lead up to their period because their breasts become tender at that stage of their cycle. It can also make vaginal sex undesirable, at least in the first couple of days if not longer, whether because of a physical discomfort or pain, or just because it makes sex messier and more annoying to clean up after. The hormonal shifts in a menstrual cycle can also effect libido too, either stopping you from feeling aroused or causing hyper arousal. And all of that is important to consider, especially when we get to other things like orgasm denial. So, don’t feel you have to hide your periods from me, okay? I want to know if something is going to effect how enjoyable these lessons are for you. And plus, I factored periods into the timeline, remember? If you want to postpone for a week we can. His little speech did put you at ease a bit, the weight of admitting the truth no longer as heavy now that he knew, but it still wasn’t an especially comfortable conversation, “Well, I should be okay to go in a few days.” “Would you be up for having sex on one of the last days of your period when your flow is a little lighter? Or would you rather wait until after it was finished?” You tried not to cringe too much upon hearing Roger talk about your flow, “After I think. I don’t know. How do you feel about it?” Roger shrugged, “If we were just having sex without the kinky stuff I’d be okay with period sex. It’s a little more effort since we’d need to put towels down and all that but I’m not completely opposed to it if we’re both in the mood. However, I think since we’re playing with BDSM it’s probably a good idea to wait.” You nodded, glad the topic was almost settled, “Yeah, that makes sense. I think I’d feel too self-conscious to enjoy any period sex but you’re definitely right about the BDSM stuff. Just makes it easier for my first time trying things out if I’m not worrying about, um, bleeding everywhere.” Roger gave you a reassuring smile which made your heart flutter, grateful he hadn’t made things too difficult or drawn out, “That’s settled then. We can put a pin in all of this for now and come back to it when you’re ready.” “Thanks. Will Friday suit? I think I should be right by then.” “Friday sounds great.” “Really? You don’t have to, like, pick up the kids or anything?” Roger shook his head, amused, “No. It is technically my weekend with them but they’re both staying at friend’s placed over night so I won’t see them until Saturday. Friday we can start testing some things and if we need to, we can come back next Monday and go through more. And I finish a bit earlier on Fridays so maybe we could start a bit earlier.” “Yeah that works for me.” “Great. I guess we should get out of here then.” Roger ushered you from the classroom and walked beside you all the way to the carpark, your footsteps echoing down the corridors. He chatted to you quietly about non-kinky topics, as if you’d merely ended up walking the same direction by accident, just in case anyone was looking. You were almost sad to reach your car, drawing the conversation to an end, “This is me.” “One last thing, Ms Y/L/M.” “Mmm?” “For homework-” “Homework?” “Yes. For homework I want you to watch some porn with impact play in it. You’ll find a few examples linked in a document I’ve dropped in our folder but feel free to find your own too. It can be spanking by hand or flogging or any other form of impact we discussed today, whatever turns you on most. Because I want you horny when I see you on Friday. I want you to spend all week thinking about naughty sluts who get spanks, knowing you’ll soon be one of them. I want you excited to be hit and wet at the thought of me spanking your arse and cunt while I fill your holes with cock. Is that clear?” Roger had leant closer as he talked and your stomach did a backflip as he stood up. All you could do was nod, completely lost for words as Roger chuckled and walked into the dark towards his own car.

#my writing #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #gonna try and get the next one written a bit quicker lmao

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matthewbeilschmidts · 4 years ago

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It’s been a long while since I’ve posted but I’m so glad that I am :’)

This is for Day 1: of @prucanweek - Ordinary

Apologies for spelling errors, it’s a little short but I hope you enjoy 😭💞

Matthew doesn’t mind that he’s living an ordinary life. Really.

He grows up near the coast, two parents, a fraternal twin brother, and their gangly hairless cat, Tony (picked curtesy of Alfred). Their parents take them everywhere they can during their childhood, the beach, museums, sports game. They focus on their interests, figuring out what the two like and dislike, as they encourage them both to be themselves and do what they love no matter what. Alfred debates between whether he likes wrestling or football more, while Matthew settles into hockey. In between family get togethers, community festivals, and endless sports training, they somehow have time for homework. (The two share answers a lot.)

He and Alfred each have their own rooms when they enter their teen years, a space to decorate and fill with their own mementos and awards. The sports continue, but later their parents find themselves a little bit busier than before. They do though, give them as much time as they can during the school year, never wanting them to go without someone by their side.

Matthew fades into the background a little bit as they get older, while Alfred puts himself front and center. Matthew watches once with a hand over his eyes as Alfred auditions for the school musical, and surprisingly he read and sings the lines well. “It’s always the rowdy ones!” their theater teachers says after he’s finished performing, a mix of anticipation from planning on putting Alfred on stage and dread at the thought of having to manage him.

Matthew silently supports him, after all he has his own things to do.

He’s the co-caption of the hockey team, the coach giving him the position to give him a little more of a voice, and his teammates verbally agree, considering on the ice Matthew has a lot more to show than he does in person. He accepts, albeit hesitantly.

By the time graduation comes by, Matthew can barely believe how the time has passed. His team even wins a championship under his watch. Some of his fellow classmates look so ready to go out and experience the world, and it’s scary to him because weren’t they all going at the same pace?

His parents talk him through picking his college of choice, and he decides to go. He needs to do what everyone does and experience the world.

And if he decides he wants to come home, that’s okay because at least he tries.

He’s in his first art class during his third year at university. The time has been going well, he’s got pretty decent grades and has managed to join a few clubs. But he’s not done yet. Extra curriculars, can’t finish without them. He prioritizes his general education first, and even slips himself into a few major classes early on, but humanities is on record now and has to be completed no matter what one’s studying.

He can get through one semester, he hopes.

Next to him, a student is snickering and the professor doesn’t look amused.

“Gilbert.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“If you’re done, I can introduce myself now.”

The professor goes in with complete, in-depth introductory slides with her name and credentials, and a briefing of all they will overcome this semester.

He’s never been an artist, at least not one that picks up a pencil and creates a realistic masterpiece with nothing but that and a pad of paper. Maybe some poetry contests in high school, if that counts. The written word has its own impact, its own set of colors to breathe out for the world to see.

There’s another snicker, interrupting his internal monologue.

He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know the student, and it’s not his place to control others. But, if it starts to hinder the class, maybe he’ll tell him something. He’s paying to be there, too.

The man catches him staring.

“Yes?” he asks Matthew without being spoken to in the first place.

“Oh,” Matthew flushes at being caught, not that he was trying to hide it anyway. “Well, she didn’t say anything funny?”

The guys waves a hand, making a “psssh” noise as he does.

“I’m just laughing because of how formal this all is. She won’t be this dignified later in the semester that’s for sure. She’ll be ripping her hair out.”

Matthew glances back, he doesn’t want to say anyone looks mean but, he would believe it if she was.

“You look scared,” the guy laughs, which is rude because isn’t he the one that just put the thought in Matthew’s mind? “She’s not too mean just a sticker to the rules. Will get real pissy if something doesn’t go right.”

“And you still set her off knowing that?”

The man laughs again, but this time around he’s actually trying to contain it behind the thin art easel. He’s not very hidden.

“She’s my cousin’s wife.”

Ah, that makes sense then? Messing with family is normal, but also he shouldn’t be bothering her at work.

“It’s no wonder you seemed casual.”

“She taught both of the lower division figure drawing classes, too. This is my third semester in her class. She’s the only one teaching this specific class I didn’t have too much of a choice.”

“Art major?”

“Yep! And you?”

“Psychology major. I have to get in some cultural classes.”

“Ever taken art?”

“Actually no, not even in high school. I got through that stuff by working backstage in the theater department.”

“Well not to worry my friend, because you picked the best one.”

“Is it easy to pass?”

“Nope. Well, maybe if she likes your work,” Matthew deflates at the blunt response, “but don’t worry because I’m here to be your guide.”

Matthew perks up, but it takes him a moment. This guy’s gonna help him?

“Are you any good?”

“Am I good?” He looks perplexed Matthew would even ask. Matthew has to cover his own amusement. “I may not look it but charcoal and I go way back. I’ll show you my work later as proof.”

“Deal.”

“Gilbert, since you’re adamant on talking, you can be the first to introduce yourself.”

Even if his name wasn’t said, Matthew feels just as guilty. Caught, for talking on the first day of all things.

“Gilbert Beilshcmidt. Fourth year. I’m an art major and my favorite breakfast food is pancakes.”

Matthew looks surprised that he was paying attention, even to the last addition of their introduction. Matthew’s not sure he would have known considering he was distracted.

And so their friendship starts.

Gilbert sits next to him again. And again.

Where ever Matthew sits in the art room, Gilbert follows not too long after.

Some days they take the sitting desks, some they stand and lean against the stools.

And despite not even talking much, Gilbert treats him like a friend.

“Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

“Nope, this was my last class.”

“Do you want to get some coffee and work on our sketch books.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Matthew finds himself meeting Gilbert in his downtime. Every Thursday after drawing for three hours becomes the day they meet. At first, all they do is draw, little more.

Gilbert is animated in all moments, but he has short spurts where he focuses exceptionally on his work. Matthew is no art critic, but he thinks Gilbert expresses himself quite well on paper. Graphite, charcoal, and pastels, all the utensils glide easily without a single stroke missing its mark.

Watercolor though, could use some work, which actually happens to be Matthew’s favorite. Even if the intention is to guide the colors with a brush, it’s okay for them to take a life of their own spreading across the thick paper.

They share snacks, art supplies, and their time.

Gilbert proves himself very useful as he promised. Matthew though never planning to be the next Van Gogh, has to pass this class. And it would be nice to pass it with flying colors, but some concepts are harder to grasp than others.

It’s obvious to tell he’s a beginner, while Gilbert excels. Matthew finds out he only now needs the intro class since it’s the first semester it became a requirement.

Gilbert helps him find the shapes he’s comfortable with, explains the processing for hatching and how it relates to shading. And while he’s no expert, he sees a subtle improvement over the next few weeks that makes some pride swell within himself.

“Do you want to come with me and my friends to this cool bar for dinner on Friday?” Gilbert asks about a month into the semester.

It’s the first time Gilbert and him will have spent time off campus.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

Gilbert’s friends are just as animated as he, it’s almost hard to keep up. Overwhelming as they are, they’re extremely welcoming. Matthew eases into the atmosphere, joining in when he can but mostly pleased to be out and doing something different.

He’s made friends during his time, but like him they’re a little more reserved and pick quieter places on the town.

It’s fun. And he wants to go out again.

Matthew invites Gilbert and his friends to watch his next hockey game.

After their shock in finding out he plays such a violent sport, they’re all agreeing and planning to find the best seats in the arena.

“Are you serious. Are you hiding muscles under that red sweater?”

Gilbert pokes at him, it tickles when he gets closer to his biceps, but he knows he’s only teasing.

“You think I’m playing but I’m serious! You should have been there, well you were there. On the stands, I mean. We all screamed after you sent that player flying against the wall.”

Gilbert recreates the motions, but only slams himself into the wall and whines after he bounces back. He then plays it off like it doesn’t hurt. Gilbert’s not a very good actor.

People tell him it’s so much different watching him on the ice, but it’s still him. He’s always wondered how much different, he feels like himself. He just knows he goes into the zone when he’s in his gear. He just wants to win. And he will.

“It’s like night day,” Gilbert continues. “You were ready to kill a man down there.”

“You’re not the first to say that. I guess maybe, I could be a little more out there in real life, huh?”

Gilbert stops walking.

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“You’re perfectly fine the way you are. I like the way you are, so don’t go change. I don’t want to be at risk of dying during art class.”

And as silly as it sounds, he’s pleased. He likes Gilbert a whole lot, too. Just the way he is.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” Matthew takes the initiative.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, just you and me. I want to take you out.”

“Like you did to that guy on the court,” Gilbert laughs nervously.

“On a date. Gilbert, would you like go out with me?”

He says yes.

Later that evening when he’s heading home, Gilbert starts running through the courtyard cheering that “I have a date with the cutest guy I’ve ever met!”

Matthew’s window is open, he’s face is bright red and he slams head first into his pillow. He needs to plan the best first date ever.

Three months into dating, he’s finally heading home again for a school break. He wants to take Gilbert with him, who is waiting for the next major holiday to go back home. But isn’t it too soon? They haven’t been dating that long, after all.

But Gilbert surprises him, and jokingly says he wants to go with him because he’ll miss him too much while he’s gone. And then, Matthew asks if he seriously wants to go.

“I do.”

So they ride the 3 hours train down to Matthew’s childhood home. He’s a little bit nervous, because he’s had dates to school dances, and brought friends over, but this is entirely different. This is someone he wants to take a serious step with, even if the time hasn’t been that long. They’ll never get anywhere if they don’t, so they’ll both take the leap and pray it works out.

“Mom, dad, Alfred, this is Gilbert.”

It’s the most timid Matthew’s ever seen him.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Matthew’s boyfriend.”

After he shakes all their hands, he takes his hand back to link pinkies with Matthew.

There’s not an once of regret in his mind as the long weekend passes.

Gilbert graduates the next year, and the year after it’s his turn. They’re going to move in with each other. Gilbert really has no irresistible urge to go back to his home town, satisfied with just visiting a few times a year. And Matthew thinks he would like to go back closer, just to figure out his next move. So, they go together.

It’s only a one bedroom, but is more than enough space for them both. Gilbert finds work as a docent while Matthew works for a second degree in education.

He still plays hockey for a local league, Gilbert becoming their number one fan. They find their own rhythm, a pace that works for them both, where they can settle down or speed up when they agree with each other. Dewey mornings, warm summers, chilly evenings they spend them altogether.

They decide move up North closer to Gilbert’s hometown. Matthew’s more nervous meeting his grandparents than he was introducing Gilbert to his own family, but Gilbert assures him again and again they’re just a stuffy old family who actually really care about each other a lot more than they let off.

Gilbert’s grandfather towers over him, despite being a hair above 6 feet. He’s silent, eyes boring into Matthew as he introduces himself. And to end all of Matthew’s worries, the elder man pulls Matthew into a hug and tells him he’s glad him and Gilbert are home. Gilbert, just as perplexed as he, stares, but he melts into a pleased laugh.

Yeah, this is his and Gilbert’s home now.

They stay, for a long while, contemplate moving a few times, but they’re satisfied for now.

Gilbert and him always make time for each other, continue their own respective interests with complete support of the other. They’re never afraid to complain, because they always work through it rather then let it simmer.

Gilbert’s vivacious spirit keep them going, and Matthew’s heart keeps them grounded.

His life at first seem a little bit ordinary, but how can he complain when the pieces of the puzzle fit themselves in and stayed locked in tight.

#hetalia #prucan #prucanweek #APH Prussia #APH Canada #.txt post #I forgot all my writing tags #will fix later HAHA

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softyoongiionly · 5 years ago

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Can I Make a Mess Now?

Jungkook’s never had sex before but, after realizing that he’s falling in love with you, he thinks he wants that to change.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Virgin! Jungkook, established relationship au, college au, smut, fluff.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: This is a part 2 to Will You Make a Mess Now? Please please please let me know what you think! Love you

Warnings: smut, language, 18+ only please.

Winter break never lasts long enough does it?

A few short weeks of bliss and then-

BOOM.

You’re forced out of the warm and lazy cocoon of holiday spirit and, back into the rigidity of modern education.

It’s not that you don’t enjoy your studies, it’s just that after nearly four years of exams and, group projects that never go exactly as planned; you are starting to feel burnt out.

It also doesn’t help that you spent the majority of your winter break sleeping over at your boyfriends house.

You got used to the weight of his head on your chest.

You got used to running your fingers through his hair; an act that lulled both of you to sleep.

You got used to waking up beside him every morning.

When the semester started once again, the two of you agreed that you’d reserve overnight stays to weekends only.

As encouraging as you were of each other’s success, copious amounts of alone time is a (delightful) distraction.

Especially since the two of you began exploring the boundaries of your relationship.

At the beginning of winter break, Jungkook had revealed to you that not only was he a virgin but, he’s never been touched before.

After a bit of discussion, he decided that he wanted you to change that.

And boy did you…

You still can’t get the images of him falling apart beneath the firm grasp of your hand out of your head.

It’s arguably one of the best things you’ve ever seen.

Jungkook’s room became the safe haven for exploration.

Many cold nights were spent underneath his duvet, touching on each other until things eventually got heated enough for you to take turns making eachother cum.

Happy Holidays indeed.

There was one night in particular that things got a little out of hand.

In the heat of the moment, Jungkook had torn off your t-shirt, leaving the two of you to make out in your underwear.

He positioned you on his lap with a low whine in his throat and, at the feeling of your heat pressing directly into his dick; he almost lost it right then and there.

It took everything in him to keep his hands steady.

To keep them from ripping your panties off…

However, he succeeded and although, it was painful to slow things down, he knew it was the right thing to do.

The only problem is, that night increased his desire to a level he’s never felt before.

He knows he wants you to be his first but; he’s so particular and, so sensitive to his surroundings that he wants to make sure everything is perfect.

Perfection is a concept he frequently struggles with and, although he’s lessened his standards over the years, he still finds himself reverting back to his old habits.

Losing his virginity is a big deal for him.

He can’t help that.

And because it carries so much weight, he feels the need to hold off until the moment is 100% right.

But, how does he define such a thing?

He knows he wants you.

He knows you want him.

He knows he’s falling in love with you…

So, how is a perfect moment established?

Can you plan it?

Jungkook doesn’t know but, he’s starting to believe that he can’t.

His brothers don’t understand his issues.

Seokjin’s been with his girlfriend for two years and, every time she comes to visit, he can hear her moaning through his bedroom door.

An event that continuously scars him.

Namjoon is engrossed in his studies so, he doesn’t make time for relationships.

But one time, when he was looking for his laptop, Jungkook walked in on him getting his dick sucked.

He’s still never gotten that image out of his head.

Hoseok literally attended an orgy two months ago.

Jimin’s dating his childhood sweetheart.

Taehyung stays over at the sorority house at least twice a week.

And, last but not least, Yoongi frequently walks around sporting various love bites and scratch marks after a night with his girlfriend.

Jungkook’s spoken with his hyungs’ regarding sex a few times but, it’s never a conversation he initiates.

He’s far too shy to openly speak about these things.

But from what he’s gathered, sex is top notch.

None of his brothers could think of anything that feels as good, although Yoongi did cite sleeping as a close second.

After a long week of lectures and tedious lab work, Jungkook has finally decided that he wants to lose his virginity.

Or at least…he’s ready to talk about it…

He starts off guns a blazing: he sends you a text trying to appear nonchalant despite the fact that his heart is currently pounding in his chest.

Jungkook: do you want to come over tonight?

Jungkook: there’s a new season of that anime we started watching :)

His message does the same bit of damage on your heart because, although you two have been dating for quite some time, you still get excited at the thought of seeing him.

You: plzzz

You: this first week has killed me

You: I need to relax so bad

You: my brain cell count has dropped to dangerously low amount.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, shaking his head at your response.

Jungkook: wow

Jungkook: lower than normal???

Jungkook: that’s pretty bad jagi :/

You giggle, already gathering your toothbrush and, various other items needed for an overnight stay.

You: I know

You: it’s a tragedy : (

Despite the playful banter between the two of you, Jungkook is furiously moving around his room, cleaning every inch of it.

He’s dusting the shelves, vacuuming his floor, rearranging his figurines on his desk.

He feels like a mad man…

Jungkook: lol you’re ridiculous

Jungkook: you can come over around 7 if you’re ready; I’m just finishing up an assignment.

Jungkook: miss you <3

Your boyfriend is literally sour patch kid.

You: miss you too

You: falling asleep without you sucks

You: 10/10 would not recommend

Jungkook smiles, gripping his phone in his hand, a flurry of emotions stirring in his stomach.

Jesus, he really likes you…

Jungkook: stay the night then

Jungkook: I’ll make sure you sleep better tonight

He feels proud of himself.

He initiated you coming over, he’s holding a playful/flirty conversation with you, and he’s totally not freaking out at the fact that he’s going to have to tell you he’s ready to have sex.

Right?

Okay, the last part is definitely a lie but he’s just gonna go with it.

You: on my way :)

Jungkook receives this text from you roughly two hours later when he’s getting out of the shower.

He deep cleaned his bedroom, put fresh bedding on his mattress, scrubbed every inch of his body and, now he was standing in front of the mirror with nothing but a towel on his hips.

He takes time slathering lotion all over his skin, hoping that you like the vanilla-honey scent before applying a copious amount of deodorant.

He shaved in the shower, taking his time to remove the bit of hair around his crotch because it makes him feel cleaner.

Jungkook’s hair is getting longer too so, he’s been putting leave in conditioner on his ends to keep them healthy and spritzing his hair with anti-frizz serum.

After roughly 20 minutes of primping, he gets another text from you as he’s pulling on his sweat pants.

You: Here <333

Jungkook feels his stomach twist whilst reading your message.

Here goes nothing…

You’re standing outside the door of Jungkook’s house, dressed in a hoodie and a pair of leggings.

Comfy works out for you because, it requires minimal effort and, it’s also your boyfriend’s favorite look on you.

So, it’s a win win.

Given the fact that you and Jungkook usually end up fooling around, you took the time to exfoliate and shave whilst you were in the shower.

You may have also worn a new lacy red bra that had arrived in the mail earlier that day…

But, who knows?

“Yahhh there she is…”

You instantly light up as Jungkook eagerly swings open his front door, quickly pulling you into his grasp.

He smells amazing but, he feels even better and, you waste no time in pulling him close to you.

“I missed you.” You mutter into his hair

He grins, hugging you a bit tighter and, ushering you inside, “Missed you too, are you cold at all?”

Stepping through the threshold of his door, you notice that he’s freshly showered himself, his hair is damp and stringy but, it frames his face perfectly

“A little bit but, I plan on using you for warmth really soon so, I’m good.”

His hand is intertwined with yours as he leads you up to his room and, his face lights up with a smile.

“I got a new duvet on Tuesday, it’s really warm but,” He places a hand on his chest. “,you can still use me though, I missed having you here.”

Jungkook mutters the last half of his sentence, his cheeks warming up at his confession before he pushes open the bedroom door.

You don’t comment on his shyness but, it makes you smile and lean into him a little more.

His room is always clean but, the fresh scent of his disinfectant spray is slightly more pungent than normal. It isn’t a harsh smell; it’s a soft lavender cleaner that he special orders from Korea.

He absolutely hates the scent of bleach.

“It’s a nice color huh?”

Jungkook gestures to the muted grey of his new bedding, which is carefully placed over his mattress.

“I love it, it’s very you.” You smile as your eyes scan the room, “it matches your furniture really well too.”

His eyes light up, “Yeah, yeah that’s why I got it. I knew it would look good with the- um the desk and the dresser and stuff. See, I knew you’d notice that…you always notice things like that.”

Before you can respond he’s speaking again, his tone slightly uneven, “Um do you want to lay down? I know you said you were cold. I can hold you if you want-“ He grimaces at his word choice, not fully understanding why his nerves are taking over already, “not that I don’t want to or anything. I do, I just…I know you’re cold.”

You touch your hand to his cheek, bringing his wandering eyes back to yours, “Are you ok?”

Jungkook swallows, his eyes locking with yours, “Y-Yeah, I just don’t want you to be cold…”

You’re not convinced.

Although the two of you have only been together for 6 months, you like to think you’ve gotten to know Jungkook really well. He isn’t exactly a closed book and, when he’s nervous about something, it’s fairly obvious.

“Are you suuuure?”

The question is paired with a soft kiss to his lips and, Jungkook can’t help but smile when you do, his posture relaxing slightly.

“I’m sure, I’m just happy you’re here. It was weird not seeing you all week.” He tucks a stray hair behind your ear before, pecking your lips.

Again, you’re not convinced but, you don’t want to pry.

He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

The matter of his worries is dropped and, Jungkook quickly (and neatly) pulls back the covers so, that the two of you can slip underneath them.

Moments later, you’re nestled against your boyfriend’s side, draping your arm over your stomach.

“You smell good…” You mutter against his sweater, nuzzling gently against the material.

Jungkook grins triumphantly, silently patting himself on the back for his choice of lotion.

“Thank you,” His chest vibrates with the sound of his voice, “so do you…”

With that, he tentatively raises a hand towards your hair, allowing his fingertips to brush over the top of your head.

The anime begins playing but, you’re more focused on the way his fingers feel, as you melt into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.

And halfway through the first episode, Jungkook’s motions are beginning to take a toll on you.

But not in the way you’d normally expect…

He’s smiling softly, admiring the way you sigh at his touch, taking time to play with the ends of your hair before massaging gently at your scalp.

“You’re going to make me sleepy…” You mumble contently, a few minutes later and, Jungkook chuckles breathlessly beneath you.

“That’s ok; you can sleep if you need to.”

He means it.

Jungkook had other things on his agenda but, now that you’re here, all he cares about is your comfort.

“Don’t wanna sleep-“ You nudge your nose against his ribcage, “I missed you.”

With another chuckle, he traces his fingers over the edges of your hairline, brushing over the shell of your ear.

You can feel goosebumps rising on your skin but, it’s not intrusive or sudden, they come on slowly along with a type of comfort that only Jungkook can provide.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.” He soothes, his motions continuing over the arches of your brows before, he traces back up the expanse of your forehead. “I promise.”

You can feel yourself smile as your blinking slows, taking another deep breath whilst your body seems to melt into him.

The heaviness in your eyelids is growing despite your best efforts to warrant off your exhaustion.

You didn’t want to nap, you wanted to spend time with your boyfriend but, when he tucks his fingers beneath your hair and, begins scratching gently on your scalp, the threat of sleep becomes more prominent.

“Sleepy girl…” He teases, a fond smile on his lips as he watches your eyes finally close. His thumb brushes over your cheek, gently pinching at the skin before, returning his hand to your hair.

This warms you from the inside out and, sooner or later you can’t help but, drift off into a light sleep.

Jungkook smile grows and, he slows his movements to a stop before tugging on the duvet until it covers your shoulders.

He decides in that moment that he really wouldn’t mind spending every night just like this; tucked under the covers, falling asleep in eachother’s arms.

He changes the show to something you’ve already seen; he doesn’t want to watch the anime without you.

After some time has passed, you slowly come out of your slumber, happy you’re still laying on your boyfriend’s chest.

You peer up at Jungkook to see his brow furrowed in concentration as his gaze is locked firmly on the screen.

A smile immediately finds it’s way onto your lips, your finger reaching out to bop him on the nose.

He jumps at first, not understanding the source of the interruption before he quickly matches your smile, ““Yah she’s awake. Did you have a good nap?” He thumbs over your cheek once more and, you’re overcome by the urge to press a kiss against his lips

He’s willing and able to accept it.

His hands come up to hold you against him and, he slowly begins to move his lips against yours

“Mhm...”

His nose wrinkles with the joy on his face as he presses more kisses to your lips.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep, I just haven’t been getting to bed on time this week...”

An adorable pout comes over his mouth, “Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you were able to get some rest. It’s not late or anything.”

It’s well past sunset but, Jungkook’s vanilla cake candle is providing enough light to illuminate the details of your boyfriends face.

You kiss him again, just because he’s cute and you can, “What did you do while I was out?”

His head reclines against his pillow again but, he tugs you closer, ensuring that you remain against him.

“I watched a few episodes of Naruto...” He admits, “I’ve seen it a million times but, I never get tired of it.”

Your arms drape over his shoulders as the upper half of your body rests over his chest. The wispy ends of his black hair are too cute to resist so you absentmindedly toy with them as you respond,

“I get it, I have a few different shows that I’m like that with; I swear I’ve seen The Office so many times I could quote it in my sleep.”

A half smirk curves on the end of his mouth, “Yeah that’s a good one too, Jin hyung watches that show all the time.”

You giggle, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear, “Ah that explains a lot actually, Jin and Michael Scott have a lot in common.”

He chuckles at that, nodding in agreement, leaning his head against your hand.

“Which character do you think you are?”

You purse your lips, mulling it over, your eyes narrowing in thought, “Hmmm that’s a tough one cause like- I wanna say Kelly because, she’s amazing but in reality, I’m probably more of a Kevin.”

Jungkook’s smirk grows, “Isn’t that the guy who dropped his chili all over the place?

With a dramatic sigh, you nod, “God, I’ve never related to anyone more in my entire life...”

A full belly laugh comes from your boyfriends pretty mouth, his body trembling beneath you as he shakes his head.

It’s one of your favorite sounds, especially when it gets all high pitched like it is now.

“Jagi you aren’t Kevin...” He insists, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, “You are cooler than him.”

“You’re just saying that because you see the best side of me; in reality I am 100% Kevin.” You giggle, tucking more hair behind his other ear.

He still chuckles, shaking his head before nodding to you, “Who do you think I am?”

This definitely gets your brain going.

“I’m leaning towards Jim, you guys have a lot in common.” You nod as you continue to think about their similarities, “Yeah, you both have the same sense of humor and, even though you’re more sexy in an obvious way, you both have the same kind of sexiness?? If that makes sense?? But, you’re definitely hotter than Jim.”

You force your train of thought away from the office- style fantasy that pops into your head as Jungkook feels something stir deep in his gut.

“You think I’m sexy?”

You can’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face, you swear you’ll never understand how Jungkook doesn’t see how hot he is.

“Duh.” You seal your response with a kiss but, Jungkook surprises you by sitting up and tugging you onto his lap.

He chuckles at the squeal that leaves your lips but, he carries on kissing you, his hands sliding up your outer thighs.

You don’t know what prompts his motions but, you’re not really in the mood to ask.

You’d much rather sit on your boyfriend’s lap and, make out with him.

“Can you-” He whispers against your lips, slightly breathless, “Can you say it?”

Your eyes flutter open to catch the shyness in his, “Can I say what?”

Warmth floods the apples of his cheeks, “Can you say that you think I’m sexy?”

A smirk teases the corners of your mouth and, tentatively you roll your hips against his.

“Are you trying to get hard Jungkook?”

You can hear him gulp, his eyes widening a bit before he nods.

With a smirk still on your lips, you tilt his head back, moving your fingers through his hair as you slowly begin placing kisses up the side of his neck.

His breathing picks up and, god help him, he immediately feels his dick hardening in his sweats.

Jungkook’s neck is a sensitive area and, you know exactly where his weak spots are.

As you reach the lobe of his ear, you feel his grip tighten on your hips, his mouth parted slightly to make way for his shaky breath.

“Jungkook?” You whisper in his ear, biting your lip as you see him visibly shiver beneath you.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re sexy.”

You nibble on his ear before quickly reuniting your lips, your hands sliding underneath his sweater.

His skin is so soft, so warm beneath your fingertips and, there is a large part of you that wishes you could spend hours just touching and kissing your boyfriend’s body.

Jungkook is eagerly reciprocating your kiss whilst his hands slowly move back up the outsides of your thighs.

His plan to get hard definitely worked because, you can feel him poking against your hips and, you’re already thinking of all the different ways you can make him cum.

“Did you get hard for me?” You whisper against his swollen lips, nudging his nose

Instantly he nods, his hands tugging the hem of your hoodie.

You take the hint, pulling back from him in order to remove it.

Your plan is to continue kissing him of course but, as Jungkook spots the fire-red lace cups supporting the swells of your breasts, he lets out a tortured sigh.

“Is that new?” He swallows thickly, biting his bottom lip, allowing his hands to trail up your hips before securing themselves against your waist.

All you do is nod, sticking your chest out a bit and, encouraging him to keep touching you.

Jungkook leans in, dragging the tip of his nose between your breasts, inhaling when he reaches the space between your color bones.

“Did you wear this for me?”

His voice is ragged but, it’s deeper than normal, due to the arousal coating his tone.

“I wanted to look pretty for you.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair.

You can feel him smile against your chest, his wet lips trailing back to tops of the bra, “You’re always pretty but this-” He grows bolder, biting softly at your breast, “this is torture”

A giggle bubbles past your lips, as you roll down against him once more.

“Jagi I-” The sensation of pleasure that toys with his body acts like a truth serum and, in an act of desperation that he definitely didn’t plan, a confession tumbles from his mouth, “I want you.”

But you don’t quite catch his drift, still rocking slowly against him, arousal slowly beginning to unravel you, “I want you too.”

No like,” He pulls away, his eyes glazed over with desire as they lock onto yours, “I want to be inside of you...”

It’s like a punch to the gut really, the way your boyfriend’s voice seems to quake under the weight of his admission.

You cup his cheek, “Really? Are you sure?”

He nods eagerly, licking his lips before turning to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist, “I want you so bad...”

You’re quick to capture his lips then, kissing into him with more fervor than you ever have.

"Can you do it for us Noona?” He croons into your mouth, his eyes darkened with lust as they plead with yours.

A nod is all you can manage at his devasting way of asking you to ride him.

For the first time...

You’re pulling off his sweater, securing your lips to his once more, kissing on them as you lean him back against the pillows.

Your bottoms are removed, leaving you completely naked as you tug his sweats down his legs.

Jungkook’s erection looks painful and, you feel yourself ache at the thought of finally being able to sit on it.

As you sit astride him once more, you lean down to press a kiss between his eyes before trailing your lips down the bridge of his nose to hover over his mouth.

He looks a little emotional, staring up at you as if you hung the moon just for him.

And you would, you’d do anything for him.

“Are you ready baby?” You whisper

He takes a deep and unstable breath through his nose but, gives you a nod anyway as he exhales through his mouth.

Right as you start lining him up with your entrance, Jungkook cups your cheek, his hand clammed up due to his nerves.

“Jagi?” He croaks

You kiss his hand gently, reassurance in your eyes, “Yeah?”

“G-Go slow please...”

You nod, “Of course, tell me if you want to stop at any point ok?”

He returns your nod before, letting out another breath as his head returns to his pillows.

Slowly but surely, you begin sheathing him in your heat, going as slow as possible so he can feel everything.

His body seems to freeze as you sink down on him, his hands tightening on your hips before a gasp leaves his throat.

Jungkook is quite sure he’s in heaven.

That’s the only explanation for the intense feelings of pleasure swimming through his body. He’s never felt anything so hot, so tight-

So fucking good.

He’s going to lose his mind.

With wide eyes, he stares up at you in awe, his lips parted as the length of his dick is fully inside of you.

You’re not fairing too well either because, Jungkook fills you up perfectly, nudging against the spot within you that makes your head spin.

“Is that ok?”

“ ‘ss so good...” His voice is slurred as his hips jerk beneath you, sending a wave of pleasure through your core.

Biting your lip, you thumb his cheek, trying to hold it together, “Can I ride you now?”

You’re asking because, you want to make sure he’s prepared.

You know this isn’t going to last long but, you still want to blow his mind.

“I’m already so close jagi...I’m sorry...” He chokes on the end of his sentence when you start a pace on his dick, “Oh fu- oh my god...”

“Shh...don’t be sorry, you’re doing so good. You cum whenever you need to ok?”

“Ah- Y/N...”

His beautiful features are screwed up in pleasure, his hands falling off your hips because, he literally doesn’t have the strength to hold on at this point.

Jungkook’s breathing is growing rapid, as his eyes flit to where you’re connected, “Jagi I’m- I’m really inside...I’m really inside of you...” He marvels, his voice weak with emotion as his hips begin to meet yours.

“You feel so good inside of me.” You assure him, increasing your pace which prompts his eyes to roll back momentarily.

“Will you kiss me? Please? I wanna kiss you when I cum...and I’m-” His eyes re-focus but, it doesn’t last long as you lean forward to brace your hands on either side of his head, “Jagi I’m gonna cum already...I’m gonna cum so hard. Oh sh- shit...”

You want every wish of his to come true.

You lean down to connect your lips, your hips moving faster and faster, wanting him to cum harder than he ever has in his entire life.

He whimpers into your mouth as his sweaty hands hold you tightly against his body.

“It’s...fuck I’m sorry, I’m sor- I'm cumming.” He chokes out, his grip tightening intensely as his hips weakly jerk with the force of his release.

He says your name as he cums inside of you, trying his best to kiss you properly but, it’s wet and sloppy.

You don’t care though, you ride him through his orgasm, keeping your lips connected.

“There you go, cum for me baby...” You coo, kissing all over his face as the pleasure continues to wrack his senses.

Jungkook knows his never cum harder in his life and, by the time his orgasm settles down, he’s properly spent.

He doesn’t completely register the feeling of you sliding off of him as his whole body is alight with tingles.

You make sure to clean him up, pressing gentle kisses to his stomach as you do.

You didn’t cum this time and, to be honest, it doesn’t really matter.

What you’ve both just experienced was too intimate to measure and, orgasms weren’t really the point this time.

Tucking into your boyfriend’s body you bring him close, tugging the duvet over his shoulders this time...

“Hi” He whispers, tucking his face shyly into your neck, his breathing not fully recovered.

“Hi you...”

With a smile on your mouth, you press a kiss to his head, holding him tightly to you.

He kisses your chest, feeling ridiculous at how shy he suddenly feels, “I think-” He stops himself to peek up at you, a bit of moisture in his eyes, “I think I’m falling for you.”

Your heart throbs at his confession, kissing his lips once more before whispering, “I think I am too.”

Jungkook knows you didn’t finish and, he plans on addressing that when he settles down but right now, all he can do is hold you.

He thinks he’s finally figured it out:

You can’t plan a perfect moment because, perfection just doesn’t exist.

But as along as he’s with you, it doesn’t really matter.

5K notes · View notes

helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

worth the wait [one] // daisy johnson

summary: when your best friend, Skye, keeps running away from home, you're left to deal with the consequences, but then one day, she doesn't come back.

warning/s: mentions of unwanted foster kids

author’s note: this is a five parter and each chapter is quite long bc i got carried away. i've literally been working on this for so long so i hope there's still some daisy johnson stans out there to appreciate this!

"She's the only person she talks to... doesn't listen to anyone... just try..."

I twiddled my thumbs as I refrained from rolling my eyes. Mr Lock was pretty stupid if he thought I couldn't hear him with the door slightly ajar.

"...can't do much... good student?"

"She'll tell you what she knows," I heard Mr Lock say more clearly, to the police officer, before the door got pushed open.

I glanced at him as he feigned a smile for my sake, making his way over to his desk and sitting opposite me. The police officer followed after him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and watching me with curious eyes like she was studying my every move.

"As you are probably aware, Miss Y/L/N, your friend Skye has gone missing," Mr Lock began to explain. "Her foster family have tried contacting her, but they can't find her."

I felt nervous with the police officer watching me, trying not to glance her way for fear she'd know I was hiding something.

"We just want to bring her home safely," Mr Lock continued. "And you're the closest person to her."

It wasn't a question – he knew I was the closest person to her. We'd done this back and forth many times before, every time Skye decided to run away. And it didn't get any easier.

I swallowed hard. "If you're asking me if I know where she is, I can promise you I don't."

Technically I wasn't lying, so that wasn't too much of a stretch.

"Have you had any contact with her since yesterday morning?" the police officer asked.

I shook my head and tried to ignore how warm I was getting. "I usually meet her by the entrance before class, but she wasn't there. I thought she was just pulling a sick day or something."

The officer hummed in response and the way she didn't give away what she was thinking didn't help with my nerves.

"So, you know nothing of Skye's disappearance?" Mr Lock asked with a raised eyebrow. "Anything you can tell us will be greatly appreciated. Her family just want her home and we all want her to be safe. You know the drill."

"I want that, too," I lied as confidently as I could. "You know she's done this before... she'll come back. She always does."

Mr Lock sighed and rested his head in his hands; he was clearly exhausted from having this same chat with me every few months Skye decided to leave.

"I think that's everything," the police officer said, before standing up straight. She glanced at me, adding, "Thank you for your cooperation. Please let your teacher know if you hear anything from her."

I nodded awkwardly. "Will do."

Mr Lock stood up, hand on his hip with mild frustration. He nodded my way and waved a hand dismissively. "Okay, you can go now, Y/N. Back to class, go on."

I nodded and looked between them both before grabbing my backpack and heading to the door. I could hear them talking quietly though, and felt mildly guilty for lying.

"...does this regularly now," the police officer was saying. "She'll turn up."

"She's wasting our time," Mr Lock was mumbling. "She always does this and for what?"

I sighed inwardly before leaving his office and heading back to class. I continued on with my school day as normal, up until lunchtime when I got a message from Skye herself.

Heading to the toilets to ensure nobody would see me, I slipped into a cubicle and pulled out the burner phone Skye gave me the first time she ever ran away a few years ago. She was always cautious of being caught out but still wanted to be able to contact me, so this was her solution. I didn't argue it as I only ever wanted to make sure she was okay and I could at least talk to her.

She'd texted me, it reading: Meet me by the ice cream truck in the park after school.

I was relieved to know she was okay, since it was the first text she'd sent me since she left yesterday morning. But it was frustrating that she'd disregarded my many concerned texts before that.

With a huff, I replied: I'm doing good, thanks for asking. You could've texted sooner, Skye.

It took a moment before she responded. Sorry, mom

I rolled my eyes, knowing she'd have that annoyingly cute smile on her face as she texted from wherever the hell she was.

Another text came through from her. Sorry I didn't reply sooner. Everything cool with the cops?

I sighed and hastily replied: Everything is as cool as it can be. I'll talk to you later when I see you. You safe?

Every time she left, she came back without a scratch to my relief, but it didn't make me feel any better when she would leave again and again. Running was her way of rebelling against everything – the countless foster families she went through, the teachers who ridiculed her, the other students who judged her. I didn't know where she went – it would change every time and I was sure she was making it up to make me feel better – but I covered for her because I cared about her and didn't want her to push me away like she did with everyone else. It was getting old though.

Her text came through and the heaviness on my shoulders lifted with relief. I'm always safe. But thanks for caring.

I always care. You know that.

I do. I'll see you later, Y/N. Love you.

I love you, too. See you later.

She stopped responding and I put the phone away before taking a deep breath. Seventeen and Skye had me feeling like a soldier's wife at freakin' war. She was gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.

—

"Over here."

I spun around and felt my racing heart calm down when I saw the familiar teasing smile of Skye watching me behind the abandoned ice cream truck.

"You're okay," I breathed out with relief before moving forward and pulling her in for a tight hug.

She laughed but wrapped her arms around me, squeezing gently. "I always am, I told you."

I refrained from rolling my eyes as I pulled away, meeting her gaze. "I'll always worry, Skye."

Momentarily, her playful demeanour disappeared and was replaced with something genuine. "I know... sorry. Thanks for coming."

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. "Skye, you can't keep running away like this. Mr Lock called me in again. Thinks I know where you are. Says your family are worried."

Skye snorted as she took a seat on the bench nearby. "They're probably throwing a party in my absence. This is just protocol for them. All of them."

I watched her with a pitiful gaze before taking a seat next to her. "The police came again."

"But you covered, right?" Skye asked with a quirked brow.

"Obviously," I said, making her smile, but I didn't return it. "I hate lying to them. It makes me feel... dirty."

"It's not like you're hiding the location of a war criminal, Y/N, chill," she teased, patting my knee.

"Where were you this time?" I asked, afraid to know the answer.

A grin appeared on her lips with remembrance as she reached into her backpack, pulling out a laptop.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Where d'you get that?"

She seemed proud as she said, "I won it in a bet."

"Skye!"

"What? It was fair play and I happened to win," she said with a shrug.

I facepalmed. "Skye, if you needed a laptop, you should've asked. I could have asked my parents or– or– I don't know–"

"What? Fundraised for the poor foster girl in class who can't buy a laptop like everyone else?" she cut me off bitterly, before replacing the laptop in her bag. "I'd rather not."

I frowned, moving to rest a hand on her back, but she shook me off harshly before standing up.

"Skye, I didn't mean it like that," I said apologetically, standing up, too. "I just meant– I could have helped. I want to help. I don't want you to have to make bets to get stuff. I just want you to be safe."

Skye and I becoming friends was something I never could have seen coming, but when we were partnered in science class in middle school, we kind of just fell into each other's lives. I knew of her situation with her many foster families and always knew she deserved better. Sometimes though, I think she felt the difference in our lives when it came to little things like buying stuff, and I hated it.

"Skye–"

"It's okay," she interrupted, glancing at me with sad eyes. "I know you want to help. But I'm okay."

Treading carefully, I asked, "Where did you go then?"

She ran a hand through her hair. "Library."

I narrowed my eyes. "You expect me to believe that?"

She met my eyes and shrugged. "You don't have to, but it's the truth."

I couldn't be bothered arguing with her, so I simply played along. "Fine. You went to the library and won a bet with someone, getting their laptop."

"Exactly."

I gave her a knowing look. "When are you coming back? To school?"

She was about to respond, but her phone vibrated and she checked it quickly, her eyes lighting up. I tried not to roll my eyes at her change of mood, not wanting to imagine the bond she'd made with her new friends.

She finally answered. "A few days, I promise."

It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing, so I nodded. "Okay. A few days. You'll keep in touch though, yeah?"

"I will, I promise," she said with a small smile before moving forward and hugging me tightly. "Thanks, Y/N."

I sighed but returned her hug, knowing I couldn't stay mad at her for long. "Just please take care of yourself, Skye. And if you need anything – and I mean anything – just ask. Unfortunately, I have a soft spot for your dumbass."

She laughed and admittedly, my stomach did somersaults at the sound. She pulled away but kept within arm's reach, allowing me to see the honesty shining in her brown eyes.

"I'll see you in a few days," she promised. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I replied, watching as she stepped back to leave.

She sent a final smile my way before running away, leaving me standing there alone and with a worried heart.

"More than you'll know," I muttered to myself, knowing I could never tell her how I truly felt.

—

"Won't your mum kill you for this?"

I shrugged, leading Skye through the the party-goers and to the kitchen where the drinks were. "She's okay with it because she knows I'm responsible. Plus, I promised her I wouldn't get drunk."

Skye let out a laugh. "Right. You're at a high school party and you're not gonna drink. That's totally happening."

I poured myself and Skye a drink as I quirked a brow. "I never said I wasn't going to drink. Just that I wouldn't get drunk. There's a difference, Skye."

She seemed impressed as she nodded. "Sneaky."

I was invited to this party by some girl in class and thought it would be nice for Skye and I to go to since it had been a while since we'd hung out. She didn't want to go at first, but after a little convincing on my end, she joined me.

We ended up staying there for about an hour when Skye needed to go to the bathroom and I decided to grab a snack from the kitchen. As I was browsing the bowls and considering whether I wanted to risk grabbing food from a shared bowl, I felt someone tap my shoulder from behind me.

When I turned, I was surprised to see a very tall guy stood there with a smirk on his face.

"It's Y/N, right?" he began the conversation, before suddenly raising his hand and reaching for something in my hair. "Sorry, you had some fluff there."

I smiled awkwardly and pushed my hair behind my ear. "Er, thanks. Yeah, I'm Y/N. I'm sorry, I don't think I recognise you."

He shook his head. "I didn't think you would. We don't go to the same school. I saw you walking around and thought I'd introduce myself."

"Oh, er..." I didn't know what to say as I wasn't really interested in his clear advances.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked suddenly, still smirking at me.

"I already have one," I said conclusively, before aiming to move past him, but he put his arm in the way. I looked at it before raising my eyebrow at him. "You gonna let me go?"

He snickered. "Come on, just let me get you a drink."

"I'm not interested," I told him straightforwardly before attempting to make another move, but he pushed me back gently. "Dude, come on."

"What's one drink gonna do?" he asked persistently (and annoyingly).

"I–"

"She said back off," another voice came out of nowhere, and suddenly Skye appeared and pushed the guy back harshly, stepping between us.

"Skye, I–" I began, but the guy was already glaring down at her with a fake smile on his lips.

"Or what?" he asked rhetorically.

She returned his glare and said nothing. I rested a hand on her arm and tried to tug her backwards, but she wasn't moving. Always the stubborn one.

"What are you gonna do, Skye?" he repeated with bitter humour. "You gonna call the cops? I heard they know you pretty well by now, don't they?"

"Don't speak to her like that," I said angrily, glaring at him.

He began to laugh, shaking his head, before finally walking away. I released a deep breath and watched as Skye turned around to face me.

"Are you alright?" I asked her gently, resting a hand on her arm as I found her eyes.

"Are you?" she countered, looking over me with concern. "That guy was a jackass."

"He was, but I had it under control," I said with reassurance, before downing the rest of my drink and throwing the cup in the bin. "You didn't need to step in."

"Uh, yeah, I did," she said, stepping in my line of sight. "He was a creep."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Okay, Skye, whatever you say. Thank you."

"You're welcome, now can we leave?"

I shoved her in the shoulder slightly. "We're not leaving. Not yet anyway. There's a foosball table in the other room I wanna play with and you're playing, too."

She sighed dramatically. "Fine."

I grinned at her before dragging her to the other room by her hand.

Another hour passed when I unfortunately began to feel the effects of my drink that I later came to learn was spiked by the arsehole who tried to hit on me. I wasn't particularly aware of my actions, otherwise I definitely wouldn't have done nor said half the things I did. Things like playing beer pong for the third time in a row and losing every game.

"It's just me an' you, Y/L/N," Kate, the girl I was playing with, said as we both a had a cup left. "Think you can win?"

I laughed as I rolled the ball between my fingers. "Third time's the charm...?"

The group of teenagers around us watched with anticipation as I aimed the shot up in my mind. It wasn't exactly helpful that I could barely stand up straight and my eyes were crossing over, making the cup move around slowly.

"One... two... three...," I counted down, before tossing the ball and watching it bounce off the side of the table and onto the floor. "Well, shit."

Everybody laughed as I ran a hand through my hair. Kate chuckled before grabbing the ball and lining it up. Miles better than I did, she aimed quickly and got it in the cup in one shot, resulting in cheers from everyone. I laughed and grabbed the cup, eyeballing the beer. I wasn't really a fan of beer, but a game was a game.

I downed the cup and pulled a face at how disgusting it tasted, before tossing the cup on the floor. I pushed away from the table I was leaning on, before falling back and hitting the floor, butt-first. I giggled to myself as I tried to stand up, but with great difficulty.

"Y/N, there you are!"

I looked up and lit up when I saw none other than Skye standing above me. She bent down and grabbed my hands before helping me stand up. I stumbled into her, but thankfully she caught my weight and let me lean on her for support.

"How did you get drunk so quickly?" she asked with surprise, leading me to the front door. "I've literally been with you. Until you ditched me twenty minutes ago which wasn't cool since I only came to this stupid party because of you."

I laughed. "I'm sorry. I saw the ping pong table and couldn't resist."

She sighed to herself before leading me outside. "You smell like alcohol."

"That's because I had some," I whispered not-so-quietly in her ear, before erupting into giggles.

"I gotta get you home," she mumbled, before searching my pockets. "Where are your keys?"

"My mum is gonna k-kill me," I realised, but a dopey smile was on my lips. "You have to sleepover."

She found my keys and began leading me to my car. "I'm gonna have to, aren't I? So much for not getting drunk."

I covered my mouth to try and stop the laughter from spilling out. She didn't seem amused as she managed to get me into the passenger's seat before rounding the car to the driver's seat. When she got comfortable, I watched her with a childish grin.

"You can't drive," I said in a know-it-all voice. "You didn't pass your test, silly."

She started the engine and began doing her mirror checks before pulling out, muttering, "Nobody has to know."

I watched as she drove, feeling exhausted but lighter than usual. She looked really pretty tonight. I wanted to tell her when we went to the party, but I didn't want her to get the wrong idea. Now however, it was all I could think about and my heart was fluttering at the thought.

"Here, drink this," she ordered, before throwing a bottle of water into my lap.

"But–"

"No buts, just drink it," she said authoritatively, glancing at me.

I didn't want to argue with her, so I began opening the bottle as I giggled to myself. "You said butts."

She groaned to herself and I drank the water as instructed, even if I really didn't want to.

Before I knew it, we had arrived at my house and Skye was helping me to the door.

"Your mum knows you're coming back late, so this shouldn't be a problem," she said quietly, mostly to herself. "Try not to make noise though, okay?"

I nodded obediently, before putting my finger to my mouth. "Sshhhh. Quiet."

She rolled her eyes before using my keys to open the door and drag me inside. I stayed as quiet as I could, letting her take me upstairs and to my room. Only, before we could go in, I heard my mum call out for me.

"Y/N, love, is that you?"

I stared blankly at Skye as she gave me a knowing look with wide eyes, nodding. I continued staring at her as my mum called my name again.

"Answer her!" she whisper-shouted to me.

"But you said to stay quiet," I said with confusion.

She facepalmed. "Just answer her," she said with frustration.

"Well then, no need to get crabby," I mumbled before calling out to mum, "It's me, mum! Skye and I are back!"

There was a pause before she called back, "Okay! Make sure you lock the front door!"

I snickered to myself as Skye shoved me into my bedroom before I could reply.

"Will do, Mrs Y/L/N!" Skye called out before slipping into my room with me.

She flicked on the light as I flopped onto my bed with a satisfied sigh. Suddenly, something was tossed onto my face making me groan as I pulled them off. I realised they were pyjamas.

"Get changed. Now."

I sat up and saw Skye watching me with a stern expression. I couldn't help but smile to myself, giggling. She looked really cute when she pretended to be angry.

"Y/N," she warned.

"I'm not tired," I lied, standing up. I wanted any excuse to keep on talking to her.

"I don't care," she said with a shrug. "You're going to bed whether you like it or not."

"But I wanna talk to you," I whined like a child, before moving forward to grab her hand.

She let go and gently pushed me to the bed. "Don't be a baby, Y/N."

I hugged her quickly, smiling to myself. "Thank you for being here. And for coming with me tonight."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"I'm serious," I said, pulling away and almost falling backwards, but she held me upright. "Thanks."

Her expression softened. "Unfortunately, that's what friends are for, Y/N. I wasn't gonna leave you."

I breathed out, momentarily startled by her sharp gaze. She had the most beautiful eyes, I always thought it. Somehow, she had the power to make me freeze up and forget everything I was thinking or going to say and I never knew why.

"I love you," I said truthfully, not caring what I was saying and too overcome with emotion to care.

She rolled her eyes, a smile of amusement dancing on her lips. "You gotta keep it down, Y/N."

I smiled widely. "But I do."

She gave me a knowing look. "I know you do. And I love you, too, but you have to get ready. Tomorrow morning is not gonna be kind to you."

"No, you don't get it, I really love you, Skye," I said, my mouth going dry as I stared at her with butterflies in my stomach.

"I know," she played along, patting me on the shoulder. "You done, idiot?"

"I'm in love with you," I blurted suddenly, smile disappearing. I stared at her, trying to ignore the blurriness in my vision. "I always have been."

Her smile seemed to fade when she realised how serious I had become. She licked her lips and shook her head slowly, lowering her hands.

"You don't know what you're saying, Y/N," she said quietly.

I grew distracted by her lips, barely acknowledging what was coming out of her mouth. "I do," I told her.

She didn't know what to say, and before I knew it, I had moved forward and pressed my lips to hers. It was something I'd wanted to do for so long and now that I was finally doing it, my shoulders felt lighter as if I wasn't carrying a huge secret on them anymore.

I closed my eyes and momentarily felt her kiss back, hands resting on my chest. It didn't last very long as she gently pushed me away, leaving me face to face with her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. I was sure I didn't look any different.

"You're drunk," she stated awkwardly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and began to come to terms with what I'd just done, what I'd just ruined. I stepped back and shook my head.

"I'm so sorry, Skye. I–"

"It's okay," she reassured me. "Please, let's just get you ready for bed, okay?"

I avoided her eyes as I nodded, feeling my heart ache with discomfort.

When I woke up the next morning, I didn't remember much from the night before. At least not straight away. All I had to remind me of it was an insane headache that wouldn't go away and a rancid taste in my mouth. Thankfully, Skye caught me up with how drunk I was and how she had to stay with me to cover for me before she left me to shower and freshen up.

Unfortunately for me, showering and freshening up gave me enough time to remember parts of the night before, including the main bit where I kissed my best friend and expressed my feelings for her.

To say I was freaking out was an understatement. I couldn't believe I had done the very thing I had avoided for years. Seeing her at the breakfast table made me wonder why she hadn't mentioned it. Was she embarrassed? Did she want to pretend it never happened? Was she uncomfortable?

I wasn't sure whether to go along and pretend I couldn't remember it, or admit the truth and apologise profusely. In the end, I ended up doing the latter.

We were eating pancakes that she'd made with my mum as I spoke up.

"So, I, er, I'm kinda remembering some stuff from last night," I said awkwardly, glancing up at her.

She slowed down with her eating, avoiding my eyes. "You do?"

I nodded, looking back down to my food. "Yeah. Particularly the, well, I–"

"You don't have to say it," she assured me, and I looked up to see her watching me with a small smile.

"I'm really sorry," I got out with a deep breath. "I don't know why I did that. Or said those things. It was stupid."

"It was?"

"You should've left after that, but you didn't for some reason," I continued with a grimace of embarrassment. "We can totally pretend it didn't happen."

She chewed on the inside of her mouth as she nodded slowly in agreement. I nodded, too, eyes falling to my pancakes.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "And thank you for making sure I was okay. You're a really great friend."

She smiled at me with distracted eyes. "Anytime, Y/N."

#daisy johnson #daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson imagine #agents of shield imagine #agents of shield #agent skye #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu #chloe bennet

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whatisthiswritingthing · 4 years ago

Text

Away Game - Emily Sonnett x Hockey!Reader

Prompt: Can you do an imagine where the Y/N is with Emily Sonnett and Y/N play hockey as well and she is still in college l. Like where Emily surprise Y/N at one of her games because she could tell that Y/N is super stressed out and just a bunch of fluff and cuteness? But also a little bit of feeling as well?

“Hey babe,” Emily greeted Y/N as she connected the FaceTime call before going back to reading her textbook.

Y/N was hunched over her desk in her apartment, textbook propped up next to laptop. Emily’s face sharing half the screen while Y/N typed notes out at the same time.

“Hey Em,” Y/N mumbled out, glancing up to shoot a quick smile to her girlfriend before going back to reading her textbook.

“Y/N, take a break for a couple minutes, then you can go back to studying,” Sonnett tried to encourage. She could see the bags under girlfriend’s eyes and the coffee cup next to her.

“I can talk and study,” Y/N glanced back to the screen, beginning to type, not even looking to Emilys side of the screen.

“I know you can Y/N, but I wanted to talk to you for a second, then we can just hangout on screen together while you study,” Emily tried to suggest again.

Y/N continued to type, periodically glancing at her textbook, not even acknowledging that Sonnett had said anything.

“Y/N,” Emily attempted again with no response. “Y/N!” She finally raised her voice, frustration evident.

Y/N’s head shot up, looking at Emily.

“What? I really need to study; I don’t have time right now,” Y/N snapped back.

“Don’t have time or won’t make time?” Emily snapped as well this time.

“You know I don’t have time Emily,” Y/N growled, the use of her full name showing how frustrated she was. They hadn’t been on the call for two minutes and were snapping at each other. Y/N knew it was her fault, that she could make time and her snapping was perpetuated by the stress of midterms and what felt like a thousand other things.

“I get you’re stressed, but don’t take it out on me,” Emily did her best to soften her tone, understanding the anger was misdirected to her.

Y/N immediately deflated, crossing her on the desk and resting her forehead on them. Letting a sigh, she looked back to the screen.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Em, I’ve just got so much going on right now,” Y/N shoulders were hunched in. Now facing the computer, Emily could see the exhaustion clearly, the way her brow furrowed when she had a headache. All fight had left the younger woman.

“I understand babe, just take a minute and breath, alright?” Emily tried to sooth the student. “What’s all going on that’s got you like this?”

Y/N groaned, dropping head to the desk against.

“What don’t I have? I have two midterms to write on Thursday before we leave for our away game, an essay due Monday, a lab I need to write up on the bus, plus practice and weights, and I should probably sleep at some point. But I can’t because I still need to study,” Y/N rambled. “Fuck.” She groaned, slammed her forehead on the desk, her hands roughly tugging her hair.

“Babe,” Emily tried to get her her attention, YN’s head remained down. “Y/N/N.”

Y/N rolled her head over, looking at the screen, keeping her head down.

“Hey hot shot, I know you have lots going on. Couple more weeks and the semester is done, then you get a break,” Emily encouraged, she wanted to reach through the screen and tuck the stray hair behind Y/N’s ear. She wanted to pull her stressed girlfriend into her arms, massage the tension out of her shoulders, sooth the crease out of her furrowed brow.

Y/N sat up, running the back of her neck, attempting to work out the knots.

“I’m exhausted Em,” Y/N whispered, lowly like Emily wasn’t supposed to hear it. “We need to win this weekend, and I need to do do well on my midterms, and this essay is kicking my ass.” The hockey player continued to ramble, Emily just nodded along, understanding she just needed to be heard.

“I know babe, but you can do this. You are so smart, you are going to do so well on those midterms, and make that essay your bitch,” that earned a small smile from the younger woman. “Plus, I’ll hand deliver coffee to your hotel this weekend.”

“Hand deliver to my hotel?” Y/N looked confused.

“Yea, our camp is in the same city as your game this weekend. I was thinking I could drop some coffee off in the morning before your game. Maybe sneak a hug in there too,” Sonnett finished with a wink.

“Fuck Em, I totally forgot you are in camp right now,” Y/N sat up completely straight, regret on her face when she realized she forgot about Emily being in camp.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Sonnett said firmly, cutting Y/N off before she could ramble out an apology. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, you have more than enough going on right now. So do not feel bad for forgetting, alright?”

“But that’s something I should remember,” Y/N sounded frustrated, rubbing a palm harshly down her face. “You remembered my game; I should remember your games.”

“No, Y/N, you don’t. You have so much going on already, my camp should be the last thing you need to remember,” Emily watched as her girlfriend chewed her lower lip, contemplating what she said. “Now, I love you and want to keep talking to you, but you need to sleep.”

“I still have this chapter to finish at least before I can go to sleep,” Y/N motioned to the mess of books on her desk, “so I’m definitely not getting to bed anytime soon,” her hand made its way to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Alright smarty pants, why don’t I hang out for a little until you finish up. We don’t have to talk, we can be together, apart,” the defender suggested with a little giggle at her attempt at a pun.

Y/N just nodded and went back to studying. Typing and the turning of pages the only sounds for the next hour while to just enjoyed the minimal company they could have with each other. Emily finally needed to call it a night when Mal made her way into the room to go to bed.

“Hey hot shot,” Emily softly said, Y/N just grunted in response. “I’m heading to bed, try not to stay up too late.”

Y/N looked at the screen, giving Emily a tired smile.

“Night you goof, no promises though. Have a good sleep.”

Emily rolled her eyes, “goodnight babe.”

The two disconnected the call and Emily got up to start getting ready for bed.

For the rest of the week, Emily and Y/N had hardly had a chance to text, both women so busy. Emily still finding time to send her girlfriend reminders to eat and sleep enough, or just sending her funny memes though out the day to make her smile.

Y/N had spent the team bus trip to Chicago finishing her homework. By the time they arrived at the hotel, she was ready to crawl into her bed and sleep for a week it felt like. Unfortunately, all she could get was a quick nap before evening skate around and team meeting before the game the following day.

The hockey team all made their way through the lobby towards their rooms. Y/N had her headphones in from the bus still, making it clear to everyone she wasn’t in the mood to socialize with anyone, keeping her head down, watching the feet of her teammate to know where to go.

Suddenly Y/N felt a hand firmly push her to the left, she whipped her head to the right, looking for the culprit. Y/N saw a teammate grinning and motioning to her left where she had been pushed to.

Y/N looked to the left to see Emily standing there with a large smile on her face, bouncing on the balls of her feet, doing her best not to pounce on the hockey player.

“Looks like you have a stalker, Y/N/N,” her teammates chuckled, Y/N’s sleep deprived brain slowly caught up with her. She dropped her bag and took the few steps to close the distance between her and her girlfriend, crashing her body in the smaller soccer player.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N mumbled into Sonnetts chest.

“Rumor has is some stud hockey player is staying here the next couple nights; I was hoping to get an autograph,” Emily said casually, lightly pulling away to jokingly glance around the hotel; Y/N tightened her grip on the defenders shirt, tugging her back in.

Emily leaned down and placed a soft kiss to the hockey players head.

“I’m kidding hot shot. I got a room here. I know neither of us can spend the night together, but I figured it would be perfect a nap before your practice, maybe one tomorrow before your game.”

“You rented us a room just to nap?” Y/N looked up incredulously.

“I mean, we could do other things than nap,” Emily said suggestively with a waggle of her eyebrows. “But why don’t we start with taking your bags to your actual room, then go from there.”

Emily stepped away, picking up the discarded bags and making her way to the elevator. Leaving no room for argument that she would be carrying them. Y/N just followed behind, amazed at the consideration her girlfriend had for her.

The two quickly dropped her stuff in the room, before making their way to the room Emily rented a couple floors up.

Y/N had Emily pinned against the wall of the room before the door even closed. Gripping the back of her neck, hand pulling up her shirt. Emily pushed back, taking her own shirt off before reaching for Y/N’s. Both now shirtless, they battled to press the other into the wall. Y/N being stronger, gripped Emily’s hips and guided her to bed, pushing her to sit. Emily immediately slid up the bed, Y/N following with her knees on either side of Emilys hips.

They continued to make out, hips rolling into each other, hands roaming exposed skin. Emily suddenly pulled Y/N flush against, then rolled them so she was on top. She glided her lips down Y/N’s neck and across her collar bones, slowly making her way down when Y/n let out a loud yawn.

Emily paused, glancing up to make eye contact with the younger woman, giggling.

“I know it’s been a while and I might be a little rusty, but I can’t be that bad.”

“I’m sorry Em, you’re amazing,” Y/N started, only to be cut off by another yawn. It seemed now that she was in a bed her body was done fighting the exhaustion she felt, her eyes already beginning to droop.

Emily made her way back up, running her thumb along Y/N’s cheek, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her lips. “Get some sleep babe, I’ll make sure you’re up for practice.”

The soccer player rolled onto her back, pulling Y/N to lay on her chest. The younger woman gave a small nod, already drifting to sleep while she nuzzled her face into Emily’s neck.

Several hours and a refreshing nap later, both athletes made their way to the lobby. They exchanged a quick kiss goodbye before parting, each to their respective practices. Emily promising to be around the next morning with coffee before the team would depart for the rink.

Sitting on the bus, Y/N leaned her had back, feeling better than she had in months. The three hour nap with her girlfriend doing wonders, it had quieted all her anxieties and stresses.

Emily made her way to the hotel the next morning again, coffee in hand as the team left the banquet room after practice. Y/N walked over quickly, ignoring the snickers and joked coming from her teammates, eyes only on the blonde in front of her.

“Hey gorgeous,” Y/N greeted with a kiss. “I only have a minute before I need to get my stuff and be on the bus.”

“Hmm, that’s alright,” Emily hummed with a smile, “I just wanted to see you before the game, maybe get that stud hockey player to sign my shirt.” She winked, motioning to the shirt she was wearing. Y/N rolled her eyes realizing it was her own team shirt.

Y/N laughed when Emily took the coffee back and replaced it with a sharpie.

“Who should I make it out to?” Y/N played along.

“Oh easy, ‘Emily Sonnett, the most amazing girlfriend’!” the blonde enunciated each word with her hands, like she was spelling them out in the air.

Y/N just shook her head, stepping close to her girlfriend before neatly signing her name on the shirt. Right on her chest, just over her heart.

“There you go you goof, now give me my coffee.”

The two made the exchange, both leaning in for a brief kiss before Y/N rushed off to the get her equipment for the game.

After a quick steal by Y/N and a fast break down the ice, leading to an early goal, loud cheers for the away team scoring drew the attention of the entire team. Y/N glanced up from the ice to see a majority of Emily’s teammates in the stands cheering the team on.

Y/N played the rest of the game with a new focus, she always wanted to win, but there was something different about playing in front of her girlfriend, a strong desire to show off and impress her.

Emily and the few players that knew Y/N personally met her outside the change rooms after the game. Each taking turns to pull her into a celebratory hug after the victory, all talking over each other about what part they liked the most. Mal and Rose pretending to recreate a body check against the boards.

Y/N had pulled Sonnett into her side while they all talked, both only half listening, just enjoying being with each other again.

“Feel better?” Emily asked when her friends were distracted. She could feel how much softer her girlfriend felt now that most of the tension left her body.

“A million times better,” Y/N leaned down and caught Emily’s lips in a kiss.

“Glad to hear it hot shot,” Sonnett whispered when they pulled away, both oblivious to their friends gagging at the cheesy interaction.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #emily sonnett imagine #emily sonnett x reader

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