#this bodysuit isn’t doing anything for my hips | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovelessdagger · 1 year ago

Text

Starlight -Chapter 38: Losing Dogs

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Implied Sexual Content. Graphic Death of an Animal.

Words: 3.5k

Summary: He fears the brink of insanity.

Masterlist | Starlight Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

The morning is slow and Din Djarin remains at the foot of the throne room’s sweeping staircase until the suns beam inside. Occasionally he removes his helmet for a drink of water, or a bite of fruit spears stolen from the kitchen.

The Darksaber is displaced from his hip, chucked some twenty feet away at the base of the throne.

He fears the brink of insanity.

What a king he will make…

He’s fallen asleep thrice, each waking a startled jump. Intruders have been the Gamorreans, and the last time the wookie Krrsantan. None paid him any mind, though he suspects the wookie to be less impressed by his deprived state.

While the room is still dark, he stares at the ceiling and sees nothing. He feels claustrophobia crushing his lungs. The coming light proves the stone an untouchable barrier high above.

Better it all just collapse.

The image of her is burned into his mind. Asleep, quiet, content. He feels sick and wishes for a migraine. After a while, his water tastes like poison.

He blames her. He shouldn’t. He does.

Thing could’ve been fine. A release. A relief.

A sick closure.

They acted too casually. Too normal. They’d forgotten, he’d forgotten. He’s meant to not need her, want her. She’s supposed to be awful. Some lie. Something changed. Maybe she is, changed into something more caring, more willing to help, smarter, more aware—no, he’s meant to see her as worse.

Fuck.

Is it his place his cry? To be upset? Maybe not. Emotions are untethered.

He doesn’t want to love her, the root of the issue.

Maybe there’s a feeling of obligation.

Were he asked, without thinking Din would say he didn’t. Doesn’t.

He doesn’t love Lumina.

Doing so means too much. He’s strong. He is mandalorian, but he’s also scared.

There are too many variables.

Maybe he isn’t okay.

“You’re up early.” Fennec says, coming down the stairs. “Don’t tell me you’ve been down here all night.”

“No,” Din coughs. “No not all night.” He stands and his knees wobble. “I’ve been thinking… I don’t think it’s wise I go to Freetown.”

“Why’s that?”

He hesitates. “You can’t understand the kind of position I’m in just by being here…”

Fennec rolls her eyes. “You sound like Bo-Katan.”

“Is that wrong?”

“It is when neither of you can make up your mind. If you hate her you are at your mercy to do so. If you’d rather never see her again, do not. I gave you a choice. I don’t care about your feelings, I care that you can do a job. One job. Are you telling me now, that you are incapable?”

“I’m telling you it isn’t logical, and my personal reasons for that aren’t your concern.”

“Your intentions are precisely my concern. She is the heir of this palace, these territories, the sand you stand on. In the eyes of the Daimyo, that girl is worth more than any treasure in reserves. I am committed to her safety and wellbeing. What you need to understand is that we are balancing on a precarious line and you, are a wind I seem to have underestimated. You blow too hard.”

He swallows. “What kind of line are we talking about?”

“Go to Freetown,” Fennec says. “Look for it.”

---

A half hour past suns rise, Lumina emerges to the outdoor hangar with faltered step. She drags her newly finished bike, a Gamorrean moving a second for Din. He chooses not to comment on anything; her dark circles, or the remnants of the Imperial uniform on her body: A bodysuit, empty vambraces and holsters, a red cloth wrapped around her forearm. Her lightsaber dangles from her hip.

On closer look, he thinks her hair is shorter as well, just above her shoulder instead of just past.

She thanks the guard in Huttese, he bows.

Fennec steps out in exchange for the boar with a long locked gray case. Their exchanged words are softer than what can be made out. The back and forth is short but brings them knelt to the ground with the case opened.

Her weapons, Din realizes quickly. Daggers, blasters, detonators. A rifle half the size of her body. She fills her pockets with possible destruction and slings the firepuncher over her back.

She’s overdressed for the occasion, certainly a diplomatic one, but Din also stands with his own rifle, spear, and jetpack.

They’re too similar.

Last, she’s handed a small pack, attached to the back of her speeder seat.

A cloak, a water canteen, few rations, the treaty.

Fennec tells her to be smart, loud enough to know Din would hear. In response, Lumina slides on a pair of gloves. She straddles her bike and pulls on her helmet.

Fennec says his name: “Din.”

Lumina drives away.

He follows

---

She leads drive in total silence as twin suns burn their covered skin. When they begin to reach their peak in the sky, Din connects to the channel in her helmet.

He suggests they pull off to rest, eat, relieve themselves. He’s familiar with the trail they journey, and they’re approaching a tribe of local Tuskens. He says they’re friendly people and would surely grant them safety.

“What do you say?” he asks. “What do you think?”

She pulls back, allowing him to take the lead.

The stay is short. Two hours at most. They ask if she is an unspoken, a mute. In response, Lumina rubs her stomach:

Sick.

---

They arrive to Freetown sometime in the late afternoon, speeders skidding to a halt. Lumina disembarks with an effortless air of cool, shaking her head free of the helmet. An unfamiliar face, claiming himself to be deputy, greets the pair.

“Howdy ma’am,” he says, tipping his hat. “Might I ask your business here in this town?”

“We’re here to speak with Marshal Vanth,” Din answers.

“The Marshal ain’t taking visitors,” he says. “Not til I vet ‘em at least.”

Lumina’s fist bunches at her side, Din steps up. “Why don’t you get the Marshal before something happens?”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s advice. Take it.”

“Now listen here—”

“Stand down, Deputy.” Cobb Vanth, unmistakable arrogant swagger in his step. “These fine folk mean no harm.” He shrugs. “Far as I can tell anyway.” He takes Lumina’s hand, pressing a kiss to the back. “Lady Fett,” he greets. “Pleasure to see you again. I apologize for my… deputy there. He’s new. You understand.”

“I expect to be treated with more respect than an interrogation Marshal.” She removes her hand. “If you wish to continue having a deputy, you’ll correct his error.”

His tongue clicks. “Yes ma’am. Should I grovel for forgiveness now or later?”

“Don’t tempt me.” She walks past him. “How are the new water sourcers working out?”

“Better than great.”

“And the bordering trade routes?”

“They cause no trouble. I’ve got men keeping eye, no Pykes, no spice.” Cobb seems to just now catch attention onto Din, awkward in position by Lumina’s bike. “Well I’ll be damned,” he says. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever show your mug round these parts again.”

Din nods. “Marshal.”

“Cobb.”

“Cobb. Haven’t seen you since you gave up the armor. How’ve you been?”

“More careful. What brings you up here? Didn’t take you as a diplomat, Mando.”

“Din. And… I’m not.” Lumina freezes up ahead, Cobb follows his line. “Just thought I’d tag along.”

The Marshal looks back, pointing, Really? he mouths. He whistles. His eyes ask, How’s that working out?

Din’s head shakes. “Her folks thought you’d need some sweet talking.”

“Is that right?” He chuckles. “They worried that much?”

“Not for you.”

Cobb nods, pensive. “We get along just fine, me and her. She and her old man, they come round every now and then.”

“Is that so?”

“Sure is. Wanted to thank the fella who kept the armor safe. Should’ve guessed you knew em too… Can I ask you something?”

“Course.”

“You trust them?” Cobb asks. “I mean really trust em. You gotta understand it’s more than myself I gotta look out for here. This town depends on me, and putting our faith in some city sluggers that ain’t even from here… it’s a hell of a plea. Either way this turns, I gotta be sure I ain’t making a mistake.”

“I’ve read the deal she wrote, ’s better than good.”

“But do you trust them?”

He doesn’t know why he says, “I do.”

---

Negotiations take upwards of three hours. As expected, the Marshal pushes against proposed taxation rates, he mocks the idea of a tribute.

Din is convinced Lumina was made for the Senate. Some great politician or lawyer. She understands policy like it is art, she gives where she needs but holds strong.

He feels the Darksaber on his hip and is reminded of Boba Fett’s words. “You first taste of politics coming from an expert…”

If this is his future, he is wholly unprepared.

Though any aide from the Fetts going forward seems nonexistent.

“So we’re at an agreement?” Lumina asks, hands folded on the table.

Cobb blows out hot air from puffed cheeks. “It would seem so.”

She doesn’t smile until he signs, and even then carries the emotion with calculation.

They shake hands.

“Freetown is now under the sworn protection of the Daimyo of Mos Espa and the Fett name,” she says. “Congratulations Marshal Vanth.”

---

By nightfall, the people of Freetown host a celebration. They are kind and generous. They build a fire outside town and share their roast. The children are polite, the adults respectful.

She is especially kind and Din’s stomach turns for expecting otherwise.

They sit on opposite sides of the fire. She entertains babbles of the young, though he is unsure whether she understands at all.

The Force, he remembers; translations of emotion through the mind, as Ahsoka had explained with Grogu. That must be it.

Lumina doesn’t smile, she doesn’t attempt one either. But she nods along, pats a shoulder, and closes her eyes every now and then.

They offer her food and she does not take.

They ask why.

She gives the same excuse.

Sick.

He can’t remember if she ate the night before and debates interjection.

Ultimately, he decides it to not be his place.

---

Din watches Lumina like she were an animal behind a cage and still continued to fear that she may indeed someday break loose. His face is warped by the fire and she tries to look at him as little as possible, but she is not as strong as she would like to believe.

Or, she is just as weak as she knows to be.

Either is an accurate assessment.

It is her fault, she thinks, truly at the end of it all. She is meant to be better. Unattached. Expectant of the worst.

And yet—

Feeling is overwhelming, but she isn’t sure what this is.

It may be love, the nasty effects of it. The long lasting resentment and care.

Tatooine has gone to the dogs and she has taken her place among them.

It isn’t her fault he carried too much faith, she warned him after all. He should have known.

He should have.

And maybe she isn’t so awful, maybe he should have tread more careful in worship. Maybe she is worth something. Maybe the hounds aren’t all bad.

She looks at the Mandalorian.

He stands. He leaves.

She thinks too much.

---

Din picks apart half a roasted rib in his own solitude from the crowd. The meat is wet, he feels a cannibal with juices dripped down his chin.

In the nearer distance, he faces subjection to a grouping of animals and their screams. His helmet locks on just as Lumina rises over the nearest sand dunes apex. Marshal Vanth calls for a retreat at her side. The shouts comes again, echoing in the night air.

They each grip the sabers swinging on their hips.

Lumina skids down the sand with skilled precision. She reminds him of a blood sniffer, turning her head one way to the other.

“What is it?” he asks.

“We call it Devil’s Hound,” the Marshal says. “Predators of the land… it’s best to retreat.”

Her hand raises. “Sh.”

The wind blows, she takes off running.

Din swears and chases.

---

“Lumina. Lumina!”

Head first into darkness, the moon’s lights guide through blindness.

He catches up when she stops and is only slightly out of breath. Din follows a blood speck trail stretching from the edge of his vision to a creature a quarter her size laid on the sand. She stands over the body, four feet from him.

They hear Marshal Vanth, fuzzed in the background, calling them away.

“Lu,” Din says.

“She’s hurt.”

Her first words to him in seventeen hours: She’s hurt.

She’d heard it, the in fighting, of course she had. The terrorized yelps had only hit Din’s ears when she appeared over the dune.

He gets a better look at the animal, an anooba. The runt of its litter if size if anything to go by, bleeding from its ribs and neck. Its gray fur looks black with the lack of light, and the blood an oil spill.

Lumina crouches by the animals head, slowly reaching out. It wheezes, strangled grunts fighting the affection.

“Don’t,” Din says with no fight in his voice.

“You poor thing…” Gently, she rubs the anooba’s muzzle, guiding up its cheek. “Do you have a light?” she asks Din. “It might not be that bad.”

He reaches in his pockets, the small torch attachment to his helmet fumbling out. He bangs the hold against his palm. “There’s no charge,” he says. “Haven’t needed it since—”

“Give it.” She holds out her hand.

“It doesn’t work.”

She doesn’t budge. She hits her palm to the metal all the same, frowning. “C’mon,” she mumbles, pulling off the top. She twists the lightbulb out of its socket, rubbing her thumb over its base and electrical contact. “Put pressure on her wound, help stop the bleeding.“

“Lu—”

They both know what he’s attempting to say. The animal is unknown, possibly rabid, dangerous. It’s too small, its breathing is already shortening.

Anooba’s travel in packs, there’s a reason it was left behind.

“She’s just a baby,” Lumina says. “Give her a chance.”

In coming days he’ll wonder what could have happened differently had he not hesitated now.

He’s selfish enough to believe this is all another ploy at first. An attempt to turn his perspective, another manipulation of character. She knows all too well the image painted within the desert. She must.

But then Din looks at her, really looks at her. She’s sitting with the anooba—this thing called evil with no evidence—its head panting on her lap.

He’s reminded of the word.

Sick.

Lumina won’t let go of the lightbulb. She’s muttering and growing more frustrated and she won’t let go. They stand on the line.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

As life fades from the creature eyes, Din catches a flicker of light from her palm.

He never tells her.

He is resolved to himself, his guilt, and his love.

---

They are.

She is.

But so is he.

In that, there is comfort.

Perhaps peace.

In time, forgiveness.

---

The Marshal tells them there’s only one spare room, neither are sure if he’s lying but they don’t push. Lumina spends ages at the fresher sink, washing away blood. Din strips himself of armor.

They make do.

“I can stay outside,” he suggests. “Keep watch.”

“For what?”

He shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed.

They don’t do well with silence.

“I’m sorry.”

Exhibit A.

Lumina shrugs. “I deserved it.”

He says her name.

She steps in-between his legs, taking off his helmet. The hissing lacks its usual terror in her soul. His as well. “I ruined your life. You fucked me and left. It’s okay, I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, whispered. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” His head leans against her stomach, his eyes shut tight. “Gods I’m so sorry.”

She almost warns against his prayer, but it is proof of her. Of them. She wants to say it’s okay again, that she would leave herself if given the chance.

Lumina considers the possibility that she is becoming kind by not saying anything at all.

She pets his hair.

“You hurt me,” she says. “On purpose. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I got scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of everything.” She feels his mouth open, close, and open again. “I have to protect the kid.”

“From me.”

“No. You’re the reason he’s alive. I know you wouldn’t hurt him but… I don’t want him to end up like you. I have to protect him the way someone should have protected you. You—You’re so unhappy. All the time. I don’t know if you’ve ever been happy.”

“I was happy on Naboo.”

“You almost drowned yourself.”

“I can’t swim.” She shrugs. “I wanted to go while things were still good.”

Din swears. He looks up at her with wide brown eyes, his chin on her stomach. She cups his jaw.

“I’m happy with Boba,” Lumina says. “I’m happy being outside… I was happy with you. I was always happy with you. Happy with your kid. I never taught him anything bad. Ever. You have to believe that.”

“I do. But I need the kid to be happy Lu, I need that. He needs that. I can’t have him growing up and not be able to have doors to his room, or set knives at the table. I can’t be scared that someday he’s just gonna… What happened between us… I didn’t mean to—not that I regret it. I don’t, and I shouldn’t have left, and I do—” he stops short. “I do——I do. But I can’t. I can’t. I can’t let you back in. I don’t know what’s happening to you, but I won’t put the kid through it. I won’t let him watch you fade. I’m sorry.”

Lumina leans over, dragging Din into a gentle kiss. “I understand.”

---

They don’t mean to go longer. They don’t mean to undress. They don’t mean to repeat mistakes.

Or they do.

The longer the night goes, they do.

They mean every bit.

---

There is a certain exhaustion which comes with the onset of perpetual grief. It is all encapsulating, a black lace veil over the vision of life. Lumina, through all her years of grief has known nothing but exhaustion. For the life of her, she cannot imagine a life without.

That is why the dark is comforting. In a literal and spiritual sense. The dark side, that being of the Force, is her sole provider, the fuel of her life. She is pained and miserable, but finds it a comforting sign she is aware enough to still recognize pain.

She is not totally lost, only misguided.

The literal darkness is less neurotic, though more a psychology. She can’t see in front of her face, much less her company to the left, so she considers the situation an overall win.

Yes there is darkness, yes she alone, yes she is burdened. This is normal, though she wishes it weren’t.

Her wrist hurts.

So does the rest, but the former is a constant reminder.

It’s a little ironic. The strength of a Sith comes in total control and she is uncontrollable. She is a panic. She is unknown. She is abstract. She is unexplained.

A genetic miracle. A clone. A strandcast. A theoretical image of optimal health and appearance.

She shouldn’t feel so worthless.

Out of all the possible paths of life placed in front, she has chosen in error, the worst of them. No power. No family. No being. Mere existence feels selfish without purpose now. She was created for a purpose. Or so she assumes. Born of a darkness, forever trapped.

Escaping feels more a futile effort now more than ever.

Though she’d like to stop crying.

Briefly she wonders if she is meant to be pretty when in that emotion as well.

As said before, everything is exhausting.

Everyday she takes on the new infections of illness. A light head when standing, a cough, fatigue, dizziness. She can’t stand for long, fighting became out of the question months ago.

Her skin is too tight on her bones. She can’t breathe. She can’t stop shaking. Her heart pounds.

This may be another aspect of sickness.

The end, if she has anything to say about it.

Something has to change.

She refuses to be found here.

---

The room is left tidy. Her escape is simple and discreet.

---

Din wakes up alone as sunlight beams into the bedroom. Half the bed is made, aside from himself it looks as though it had never been slept in. The other side is cold.

He dresses slow.

He worries. He worries after the fresher is found empty and dry. He worries when Cobb says he hasn’t seen her. He worries when the Weequay points out her missing bike. He worries until he’s handed a note left inside the cantina.

“Everything alright?” Cobb asks.

“Yeah…” he says. “Everything’s fine.”

The eight hour drive back to Mos Espa late that morning takes a millennia. Scribed aurebesh burns a hole in his pocket:

Gone to where you’d hunt me.

Saying goodbye.

--------

Chapter 39: Pyre (Interlude)

-------

Taglist: @lexloon @jay-bel @xsadderdazeforeverx @spideysimpossiblegirl @sarahjkl82-blog @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @hello-th3r3

#starlight #din djarin x original character #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x oc #din djarin x original female character #mando x ofc #mando x oc #din djarin x female oc #the mandalorian #Mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic #mando x original character #mando x original female character

6 notes · View notes

howlingday · 3 years ago

Note

Jaune can’t help but find it a bit odd that his girlfriend Winter will only allow him into her panties if he’s cosplaying as Captain America.

The Winter Hero

Jaune Arc was a man of principle. He was raised to be a gentleman; kind, generous, and sensitive to a woman's needs. His mother and sisters groomed him to be the perfect boyfriend for anyone lucky enough to have him.

Chocolate ice cream at 3 AM, even though all the stores are closed? Done before dawn.

Need some guy to stop stalking you? Jaune wasn't a man of violence, but he had his ways to deter creeps.

Need another girl for your sleepover? Not a problem, even though he got a few awkward glances from his sister's friends.

However, almost as soon as he left the nest, his first girlfriend was completely independent. Any offer to help was completely shut down. But this was to be expected from an officer of the Atlas military. Yes, Winter Schnee never made any requests to her boyfriend.

That is, until one Halloween night...

Jaune looked himself over in the mirror at his costume. His blue spandex bodysuit was slim, if not constricting. It featured a white letter "A" on his forehead with a pair of wings just behind his temples, a star in the center of his chest, and a design of red and white stripes over his abdominals and circling around the back. He looked down to the flat, metal disk shield that weighed about thirty pounds. Not all too heavy for him, but it still weighs down over time. Yes, he was the hero of life and liberty, Captain America!

He sighed and shook his head as he looked over his ridiculous outfit. When he asked about their plans for Halloween, Winter explained she already ordered his and that she intended to go to a costume party with him. He knew better than to question it, but did it have to be this superhero?

Jaune has read his fair share of comics, and when asked who his was, he would answer Batman. Unfortunately for him, though, Winter was a Marvel fan, so his favorite superhero would have to stick to the sshadows tonight.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Picking up the shield, he walked over to the door and opened it. The sight in front of him almost made him drop his shield.

On the other side of his apartment door stood a beautiful woman with snow white hair, cascading down over her shoulders like an avalanche. She wore a silver body-suit, reminiscent of the ones worn by special forces, that hugged all of her curves perfectly. Around her waist was a gray belt designed to look like it had multiple compartments.

"Is there something wrong, Jaune?" He blinked and gave a nervous chuckle. She looked him up and down and smiled. "I see your costume matches the measurements I provided."

"Uh, actually, it feels a little tight." Jaune replied, tugging at his collar. "I can breathe just fine, but-"

"Good." Winter turned around and began walking towards the stairs. "Let's go. It's time for the party."

"Uh, yeah, sure!" Jaune shut the door behind him and followed her. "I like your costume. Who are you supposed to be?" Being a gentleman, Jaune asked, since he was certain it would tie to her interests.

"Silver Sable." Winter replied without looking back. "Russian mercenary. Leader of the Wild Pack. First appearance in 'The Amazing Spider-Man Issue #265'."

"Oh, she sounds... intense." Being a man, Jaune's eyes wandered to her hips, where her ass lightly swayed with every step, leaving nothing to the imagination. His costume felt tighter.

At the party, Jaune struggled to keep his shield up. He had shifted between his arms twice since he started carrying it. He could set it down, but every time he did, Winter would find out. The first time, she lightly chastised him, saying, "I thought you were supposed to be a hero." The second, and last time, she hit harder, telling him, "You're supposed to be a hero. So be one." She knew one of Jaune's dreams was to be a hero, someone who helps others and can be looked up to with pride. He sighed as he looked over the crowd.

The costumes varied, but he recognized everyone as someone from Winter's command. Elm Ederne, a specialist of Atlas' Ace Operatives, was dressed as some kind of monk, she explained, and carried a set of drums on her waist. He thought she was a hippie at first, but was swiftly corrected. Their commanding officer, General James Ironwood, was luckier than Jaune and dressed up as Batman. Jaune was green with envy. Or he was when Councilman candidate Robyn Hill showed up, dressed as Orchid from Killer Instinct. He never played the game, but he recognized the costume from... research.

"Jaune," he looked to his left and saw Winter standing with her arms crossed, "do you want to leave?" Jaune blinked, but before he could say anything, she spoke first. "I know that look on your face. You're bored. If you wish to leave, I won't force you to stay."

"I'm fine," Jaune replied, "I'm just... reading the room." Winter sighed, leaning against the wall next to him. She had an annoyed look on her face. "Are you okay, Winter?"

"I'm fine." She replied without looking at him. Instead, she was looking at the attention Robyn was getting. With a scowl, she huffed under her breath. "Pigs."

"Svin'ya." Winter looked to Jaune, who was wearing a smile on his face. "Svin'ya is pig in Russian."

She chuckled at that, gracing her lips with a smile. Jaune liked making people smile. Well, maybe not make, but help smile. She leaned closer, forcing Jaune to shift his shield to his other arm. She held his arms and sighed. Jaune felt his suit grow even tighter.

"Do you want to leave?" Winter looked up to Jaune. With a smile, she replied.

"Yes."

Winter and Jaune arrived at her apartment door. The walk home was certainly brisk, but made warmer with their body heat combined as they held close on their trip, as well as Jaune holding the shield against the wind. She reached into her belt and clipped open one of the compartments and pulled out her keys. Jaune held the shield behind her, pretending to protect her from some evil or another.

As she opened the door, Jaune stepped away. "Good night, Winter."

Winter turned to face Jaune. "Won't you come in? After all, it's cold outside tonight."

"I'm sure I'll be fine." He replied with a red-cheek and -nose smile.

"At least warm before you go." Winter gestured for him to enter. "I couldn't bear to think of you becoming hypothermic because of me."

"Just another part of being a hero!" Jaune chuckled.

"Actually," Winter said, placing her chin between her index and thumb, "I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but your costume has an interesting feature."

"Feature?" A stray wind blew in, chilling Jaune where he stood. "On second thought, maybe staying a second to warm up wouldn't hurt." He stepped inside, setting his shield down by the coat rack inside. She shut the door behind him.

"I'm glad to see you've come to your senses." She stepped further into the apartment, Jaune following close behind.

He had been here twice, but the size always amazed him. It was at least three times the size of his, and included it's own washer and dryer set. It was only a balcony away from being considered a penthouse. With the click of a button, Winter summoned a fireplace from the darkness.

Following her to the couch, Jaune sat down next to Winter. She leaned closer to him then nuzzled against his chest. She leaned up, kissing him as he leaned down. She prodded tongue past his lips, and upon receiving invitation, grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him into her. Their breathing became heavy as the two pulled themselves closer to the other, their make-out growing more intense by the second.

Pulling away, Jaune groaned. "Damn."

"Something wrong?"

"This costume's in the way." Jaune tugged at his collar,causing Winter to chuckle.

"No, it isn't." Before he could ask, Winter slipped to her knees, kneeling in front of Jaune's crotch. "I custom-ordered this, you know." She traced her middle finger from the couch up to his groin. "I needed to get," she dug into a flap he never noticed, "your exact," and she pulled down the zipper he never knew, "measurem- Ack!" Winter recoiled as she was slapped by Jaune's dick.

"You okay?" Jaune asked.

"I'm fine," Winter waved him off, "I just... got my measurements wrong." She eyed his penis with a critic's glare. It was larger than the average she suspected, possibly six-and-a-half, if not seven inches in length, with a girth that made making her index and thumb have difficulty meeting. "But I'll adapt."

Before Jaune could say anything, Winter wrapped her lips around Jaune's head, tracing over it with her tongue. He lightly gasped as she pumped his shaft and she moved her head in a rhythm up and down his cock.

"F-Fuck!" Jaune grunted. "I'm gonna-!"

Winter pulled away and pumped with more vigor. With a moan, Jaune came a thin rope onto Winter's costume, a stream of white oozing onto her hands. She turned around, looking back to Jaune.

He squinted for a moment, then took notice of the zipper at the top of her back. He reached forward and pulled down. The costume came splitting in half as he dragged the tab closer to it's destination. As he reached the end, Winter stood up.

"Jaune," he couldn't see, but she looked at him with a sort of predatory gaze, as if he were a breathing meal for her to devour, "do you want to keep going?" With a gulp, he answered.

"Uh, I don't have any condoms."

"No?" She chuckled. "Check your shield." Jaune stood up and walked over to the hat rack where he placed his shield, his now flaccid cock swaying in the air with every step. Felling around, he noticed a hatch near the center, behind the handle. With a click, it opened and he found box of condoms. He couldn't see the brand, but the box felt small. That was fine, though, since he wasn't expecting to burn through ten or so condoms tonight. "Did you find them?" Winter called out.

"Yeah, they were behind the han-duuuuuh..." Jaune's jaw dropped at the sight in front of him. Bathed in firelight, Winter removed her soiled costume and laid back against the couch, her legs spread, her hair wild, and her eyes hungry. She became instantly erect.

"Then come here, my hero."

Winter moaned loudly as Jaune thrusted himself into her from behind. Every movement forward by him drove her further over the edge. This may have been their first time, but Jaune was clearly experienced. Some way, somehow, this man had a lover before her, and they perfected him into the breeding bull slamming into her.

With a grunt, Jaune came into the condom and pulled out. He huffed as he removed the rubber from his semi-stiff staff. Winter whirled around and slurped on his phallus until he was nice and hard again. Once he put the next condom on, she pushed him onto his back, then slipped him inside.

She bounced up and down his rod as she moaned and gasped. Jaune tried to match her pace with his thrusts, but she was moving too fast for him. He panted as she rode him like it was a rodeo. He settled his hand on her hips and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, she was above him, her hair acting as a white veil to hide themselves from the world. Her mouth split to a predatory grin.

"You like it?" She growled.

"Y-Yeah!" He grunted.

"You like it?" She repeated.

"Yeah!" He whined.

"You want me?" She leaned closer, slowing her pace.

"Y-Yes!" He panted. She leaned next to his ear.

"Then take me."

Jaune flipped Winter onto her back and held her legs above her in a mating press. She screamed as Jaune pounded with greater vigor into her, grunting as he did so.

"Fuck me!" She shrieked as she held her ankles. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeeeeee!"

With a grunt, Jaune came again, panting hard. He pulled out, pulling the condom out with him. He removed the prophylactic the his cock, setting it down next to it's seven siblings.

Eight condoms. The couple's box held eight condoms. With eight used condoms, Jaune sighed as the night's activities drew to a close.

SHUP!

Jaune looked down to see Winter bobbing her head up and down his shaft again. He groaned and pulled her off. With a sigh, he told the truth. "I can't anymore."

"No?" She tilted her head to the side.

"No." He stepped away and gestured to the condoms. "We went through a whole box, it's only a few hours until dawn, and I... I don't think I can do it again."

"I see." She said looking down. She almost looked sad.

"It's nothing against you, but I don't think I can do a round nine like this, condom or no condom."

"Like this?" She tugged on his bodysuit, now soaked in sweat and, in the lower region, genital fluids. "With the suit?"

"Yeah."

"Well, in that case," she reached behind Jaune and pulled down his back zipper, "here." She tugged on his sleeves and helped him out, peeling the it free from his skin. He shivered as the cold air rolled over his bare skin for the first time all night. She stepped free of the suit and sat down.

"That's much better." Winter was about to walk away, but felt him grab her hand. "We're not gonna cuddle?"

She smiled and sat down next to him. They embraced for a moment, then felt him pull her down, so they were laying on the couch. His body felt hot; clearly from the body heat trapped by his suit.

Winter closed her eyes, momentarily thinking about fucking her favorite superhero, Captain America, until she slipped into her dream where she was held in the loving embrace of her hero, Jaune Arc.

#rwby #jaune arc #winter schnee #winter knight #captain america #silver sable #my answer

281 notes · View notes

dragonmasterkaylz · 3 years ago

Text

Wife of Poseidon

WARNING: Contains Smut, Rape & Brutal Murder. If you are sensitive to these topics or under the age of 18, don’t read. Also, if my interpretation of Poseidon is a little off, I do apologise. And he is a little (very) yandere in this. This also contains a character of my own making… so if you don’t like that, don’t read it.

Within Poseidon’s Palace, lives a beautiful woman with gorgeous blue hair that almost sparkled in the light. Her eyes matched the blue of the ocean and her body was so voluptuous, only wearing a white bodysuit with golden accents and pale blue jewels on her collar and her hips. Along with gloves and matching stockings, a sheer blue material connecting her outfit together and trailing behind her. Her name is Aquamarie and she was Poseidon’s Queen.

She was beyond beautiful in Poseidon’s eyes and the perfect Queen for him due to her Humility and Kindness. And no one was allowed to look directly at his Queen unless they wanted their head to leave their shoulders. The God wasn’t necessarily worried that another man would steal his Queen from him, especially since she had already pledged her loyalty to him and loved him unconditionally. He just didn’t want his beautiful wife to be tainted with another ones gaze, especially from his servants.

She walked down the Palace, and into the Throne Room, only to find a bunch of dead servants and her angry husband. ‘Oh dear! Isn’t it too early for this?! I only just woke up!!!’ She ran over to him and asked, “What happened?!!” He looked at his wife and gently stroked her cheek, making her blush and smile under his gentle touch. “They were tainting you with their with words of lust and perversion, thinking I wouldn’t hear them. Anyone who thinks like that about you must be taken out… no questions asked. Now, let’s leave… I wouldn’t want their blood to taint your loveliness”, he told her.

The other Gods believed that Poseidon was actually using Aquamarie more as his property than his actual wife. But the truth was far sweeter. She is the only woman that understands him, the only woman to love him for the brutal God he is, and the only woman he could love. Which is exactly the reason why he wouldn’t want anyone to taint her with their disgusting words, touch or even sight. This was just in his nature, to keep his wife from experiencing anything he deemed unworthy of her.

“Poseidon… you really must stop killing our servants though, or else you won’t have any left. Next time, just try throwing them in the dungeon”, she suggested. He hummed and asked, “Do you disagree with my methods?” She sighed and gently placed her hands on his chest before saying, “Of course not. But you should think about this logically. You cannot always resort to violence when things start to displease you.” He hummed and walked past her before saying, “You know I cannot do that my love. There are reasons for my titles, and I cannot throw that away by suddenly becoming merciful.”

Aquamarie stood next to him in silence and he looked at her before suddenly stopping in his tracks. “Hm…?” She stopped and turned back to look at him. His stance was almost as solid as rock, but she giggled when she saw the softness in his eyes… as well as the slight blush in his cheeks. She placed her arms around him and then kissed him gently. Poseidon closed his eyes and kissed her back, making every servant watch. He only had one weakness and that was the beautiful woman in his arms. No one would think that ‘The Most Fearsome God’ had a soft side and that’s because only his wife saw it. If anyone else did… they were killed.

“I’m sorry… I should’ve kissed you as soon as I saw you”, she said with blush coating her cheeks. He then whispered in her ear, “That’s going to cost you later, my beloved.” Then he held her hand and walked to the meeting room, where many other Olympian Gods and Goddesses were. Hermes bowed respectfully in their presence and then said, “Lady Aquamarie, I have tea and cakes laid out for you.” She smiled happily and said, “Thank you Hermes~!” And then she took her seat next to her husband before looking happily at her spread. “I see that your wife has a sweet tooth, brother!”, Zeus said with a smirk. “Hmph.” “Silent as ever I see.”

After the meeting was over, Poseidon walked out with his wife, who was still eating cake. “Hmm~, delicious~!” He looked at her and sighed before grabbing her chin, making her look at him. “You’re a messy eater…”, he said to her before licking her chin and then her lips. She blushed heavily and finished eating, before looking up at him. “Hm… not my first choice. But it’s not bad either”, he said to her before walking away. “H-Hey…! You can’t just do something like that and then walk away as if nothing happened!”, she protested. He chuckled at the claim she was making and then said, “Don’t dawdle then… come here if you want me to pleasure you but also punish you for not kissing me as soon as you woke up.”

Hours later, in the bedroom, Poseidon had his wife begging for mercy under his surprisingly gentle touch. He had already cum inside of her multiple times but he didn’t let her cum once, overstimulating her. Aquamarie begged and begged as he trusted into her while playing with her clit, making her scream out. He smirked and kissed her neck as he used his other hand to squeeze her breast. “M-My Lord… Poseidon~…! I’m begging you…!!! It won’t happen again…!!! Let me cum~…!!!”, she begged as she leaned her head back on his shoulder. Poseidon loved the fact that his wife was a masochist, but even he knew that she had her limits. She tried to stop herself, but she started to squirt into his hand. He smirked and whispered, “Don’t you dare… not until I finish inside of you again, my dearest.”

She screamed as she was put onto her hands and knees. He spanked her a few times, making sure red marks were present on her. Then he held her hips pretty hard, hoping bruises would form on her beautiful body. He leaned down and kissed her skin, leaving more and more markings on her. He wanted the entire world to know that she belonged to him and only him. She was his Queen, his Wife, his beloved and hopefully one day… the Mother of his children. “I want to breed you…”, he confessed. “Then please… breed me. I want your children~”, she responded before turning around so she could look at him. He kissed her and then said, “Cum with me, my love.” Poseidon grunted as he felt himself cum inside of her once more, but that was nothing compared to her screaming as she came. “POSEIDON~!!!”

Aquamarie fell on their bed as he pulled out of her and gently pulled her into his arms, kissing her head. A giggle escaped her lips and she kissed his cheek. “That was mean.” He smirked and then kissed her properly before saying, “But you deserved divine punishment for not kissing me this morning.” She cupped his cheeks and brought him down for another kiss, wrapping her arms around him. “Hmm… don’t tempt me to fuck you again.” “Hehe~. I won’t… I don’t think my hips can handle it…”, she replied. Poseidon rested her upon their bed and kissed her cheek. “Rest up, my love.” “I will.” As he exited the room, fully clothed, a few servants wanted to exact revenge on the God for his ruthless nature.

Poseidon sat on his throne, looking as bored as ever. His wife was sleeping, there were no more meetings for the day, so he felt as though he could just fall asleep then and there. He closed his eyes and smiled as he thought about his beloved Queen and their future children. But that was interrupted by Aquamarie’s scream. His eyes widened and he grabbed his Trident before heading straight to his bedroom, only to see a few of Aquamarie’s maids outside, attempting to get in. “Stand back!”, he ordered. Once they were out of the way, he kicked the door down, taking it off its hinges and walked in.

His eyes widened at what he saw. Three of his servants having their way with his defenceless wife. Her eyes almost had no colour in them as they fucked her from behind, fucked her mouth and took pleasure in the sight of Poseidon’s wife being violated by them. “You filthy bastards…!”, he said, his voice filled with rage as he pulled the one watching away from her and skewered him with his Trident, not killing him though. He then pointed the bloody Trident at the other two and shouted, “Get your filthy cocks away from my wife, this instant!!!” His orders were clear, but they were ignored.

Aquamarie then screamed as one of them grabbed her hair, pushing himself further inside, hurting her. Tears ran down her cheeks, which was the last straw for him. He grabbed the one violating her mouth and threw him against the wall, knocking him out. “I’m sorry my dear…”. And finally used the end of his Trident to push the other against the headboard, knocking him out as well. His wife then crawled up to him and hugged him. “I-I’m sorry…!!!” “Don’t you dare apologise… they’ll be receiving the worst punishment possible for this”, he whispered back to her. “Maids! Take care of my Queen and clean her up!” They obeyed immediately and two of them helped her stand up before placing a robe around her.

While the servants were being tortured, the maids cleaned her up, and then got her to rest in a hot spring just after her bath. “Is that all, my lady?”, one of them asked. “Yes… please tell Poseidon where I am. I want to see him.” “Of course. Please have a lovely rest”, the maid said before leaving. Tears ran down the Queens cheeks and she cried into her hands, as she felt as if she had betrayed her own husband. The maid walked down into the dungeons and approached Poseidon, bowing in the process. “My Lord… Queen Aquamarie would like to see you in the hot springs as soon as possible.” “Alright…”.

The Tyrant of the Seas was covered in blood, looking at the three servants who violated his beloved wife. They weren’t so much as allowed to look at her, so the crime they committed deserved a fate worse than death. “Call Hades and make sure these three are tortured in the Underworld for all eternity”, Poseidon said as he walked away. “Yes, my Lord.” The God showered himself and washed away the blood before heading towards the Hot Spring, which he only had in his Palace since Aquamarie loved the ones in Japan. He wasn’t too fond of humans, if anything he hated them. But he tolerated their customs, especially if his wife did.

Poseidon wasn’t surprised to see his wife crying on the side of the hot spring. He got in the water alongside her and gently pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry…! I’m sorry!” He rubbed her back and said, “I told you not to apologise. You were asleep, tired and sore. They used that to their advantage… but I can assure you, that they’ve been punished for their actions.” She nodded, but that did not stop her from crying her heart out. Unlike most Gods and Goddesses, she did not have a heart of steel and was very gentle. He kissed her and placed a hand over heart, as if he wanted to heal it. “Hey… you’re still having my children”, he reminded her. She giggled and said, “Yes… Yes I am~.”

END

#record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok poseidon #canon x oc #don’t like don’t read

212 notes · View notes

loversandantiheroes · 4 years ago

Note

Okay my whiskey fantasy. It’s a holiday, anniversary, I dunno. But he comes home. You’re in lingerie, teddy, the garter belt, the thigh high tights (I am having an absolute brain fart and can not remember the name), the high heels. you’re cooking him dinner in it. Somethin real texas for dinner. He wants to immediately fuck yiu, BUT NO he has to WAIT bc its dinner time and you worked hard. He’s waiting, and he’s watching you, you’re bending over at the stove, all that. Dinner is served, you —-

You lounge on the table to eat like a decadent and gorgeous pain in the ass, so he can see you’re whole body while he eats, forced to be patient. You’re being an absolute menace. He’s running his mouth the whole time OBVIOUSLY. Then he fucking wrecks you

No Candles Necessary

As I am a bonafide yeehonk foole (and I have the t-shirt to prove it), I could hardly resist this idea. Nonny, I hope like hell I did you proud.💗

Shameless Whiskey/F!Reader smut (18+ and yes that means you), 5.3k+ words (they just wouldn’t shut up), mildly beta’d and lightly edited.

Warnings: established relationship, unsafe food preparation practices, light foodplay (it only goes in appropriate places I swear), egregious dirty talk, improper use of a dining table, Switch!Whiskey returns, Switch!Reader by extension, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, PIV sex, unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I fictionalize), cream pie (bc I’m lazy quite frankly), actual pie (peach!), a little soft schmoop in between the smut just because I can.

Permatag: @missredherring @dovesnroses @astroboots @magpierhymes @alienprincesspoop @aasimarr @maythxthirstbxwithyou @recklesswit

Pedro Permatag: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa (sorry bab, more yeehonk) @corvueros @thirstworldproblemss @littleferal @krissology @frannyzooey @forallthstarsinthesky @princess76179 @keeper0fthestars @venusandromedadjarin

Cooking your boyfriend a birthday dinner in lingerie is probably not the best idea you've ever had. The man isn’t even home yet to witness the trouble you’ve gone to, still wrapping up a day’s work at HQ after closing out another mission. So you didn’t jump right into cooking in your frillies. No, you did the bulk of the work in sweats and a t-shirt, only stopping to change once you were down to the last stretch and the steaks had come off to rest. You've got sense enough at least to put on an apron, not wanting to risk getting hot grease on the delicate fabric or the vast amounts of bare skin the thing doesn't cover, and while you've already donned the garter belt and stockings you've left your heels up against the island counter so you can slip them on quickly when you hear the door. Still you can't quite help but feel less sexy and more silly as you stand there carving up a pair of garlic butter basted steaks while your forehead prickles with sweat and your ass, covered by neither the teddy or the apron, feels ice cold.

The things I do for love of a goddamn cowboy, you think with a shake of your head. Your whole plan is honestly on the high end of ridiculous. But then Jack is a ridiculous man, and he always seems to drag you headlong into absurdity with him. Some days it's his only saving grace - the boyish playfulness that tempers his arrogance into something charming rather than infuriating. It seems only right to be a little ridiculous for the occasion.

Once the carving’s done you give yourself a second to go over the spread and make sure everything's ready to go. It's early yet, but you're expecting to hear Jack's key in the front door any minute. He's made no mention of returning home early, of course, but he is every bit the sort that would try to surprise you on his birthday, and you’ve developed an uncanny ability to anticipate his moves ahead of time.

As it turns out, you have just enough time to slip on your heels before you hear the front door open and Jack calls out your name. You allow yourself a moment of satisfaction - you do love being right when it comes to this sort of thing - and slip into your heels.

“In here, baby,” you call back, stepping out to lean against the door frame.

“Somethin’ smells like heaven,” Jack says, rounding the corner into the dining room. He stops dead when he gets a look at you, mouth falling open in surprise. He’s hung his hat at the door, his hair already flopping over in a revolt against the slicked-back way he styles it in the morning, his suit jacket still on and buttoned. “Looks like it, too,” he finishes, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin. “I feel overdressed all of a sudden.”

You can’t help but answer that grin. “Happy birthday, cowboy,” you tell him, beckoning him over.

He all but rushes across the room to slide up against you, hands curling around your hips and playing with the tie to the apron. “Sure as hell is now,” he mutters. His palms slide down, cupping your ass to pull you in close. You bite back a hiss at the warmth, and he gives a low approving hum at the expanse of cool, bare skin. “Looks like I don’t even need to unwrap my present.”

“Patience,” you insist, pushing his shoulders back and grazing your lips over the tip of his nose as you evade the kiss he tries to pull you into. “No dessert until after dinner.”

“Dinner can wait-”

“No it cannot. I did not just spend the afternoon trying to keep hot butter off my tits so you could get impatient and let your supper get cold.” He traces a finger across your cleavage as you talk, tugging at the top of the apron to get a better look at the skin underneath. You feel the quip coming before he even opens his mouth, so you take the opportunity to give him a little push and show him just what he’s in for tonight. You bring up your hand, fingers curling under his wrist, turning his hand away and using it to pull him flush to you, the line of your thigh landing against the covered denim crotch of his jeans with just enough force to make him jolt.

“Be a good boy, Jack,” you say against his open, breathless mouth, “or you won’t get any dessert at all.”

Whiskey pouts, but his eyes have that dark glint that says he knows he’s in for trouble and he is just as pleased as punch about it. “You mean to torture a man on his birthday, honeybee?”

The smirk you give him makes his heartbeat kick up a little faster - you can feel the quickening of it in the pulse point against your fingertips. “Absolutely.” You stretch up enough for one brief, warm kiss and then step back, jerking your chin towards the dining table where there’s already two glasses of wine poured at the ready. “Sit. I’ll bring out dinner.”

He nods, tongue rolling slowly against his bottom lip. “Yes ma’am.”

His gaze is a heavy weight on your body as you walk away, raking down across so much exposed skin. You hear him groan at the sight, low and appreciative. He’s always been fond of seeing you wrapped up in lingerie, even more fond of tearing up the expensive scraps just to get you bare for him. You’d chided him about it the first time - the bodysuit he’d ripped clean in half from gusset to tit hadn’t been cheap, even though that little display had thrilled you far more than you’d ever want to admit - but he always replaced what he ruined without fail.

When you come back, divested of the apron with plates in hand, Whiskey is sitting just as instructed, elbow on the table, chin resting on his knuckles. He tracks every move you make, every sway of your hips, a playful smile hiding the effort of his restraint as you set his dinner in front of him. He barely spares the food a glance when you elect to forego your own chair and simply hop up onto the table, setting your plate near his and dragging over your glass of wine.

“You’ve outdone yourself, honeybee,” Whiskey rumbles, sliding a hand up your knee to your thigh, and he could not be talking less about the food.

You only smile, taking an unhurried sip. “Somehow I thought you’d prefer this to a new tie. How old are you now, anyway?” you tease.

“Sweet sixteen,” he says dryly, hiking an eyebrow while he squeezes your thigh for your cheek.

You chuckle. “Uh-huh, and I’m Mother Theresa.” You lean in, spearing a slice of steak on his plate with your fork and holding it out for him. “Now, I worked very hard on this, and I am going to be very disappointed if you try to skip dinner on me just ‘cause you can’t quit eyeballing your dessert. Open.”

He tips you a wink before dutifully opening his mouth, letting you feed him. The soft, indulgent moan that leaves him as his eyes slip closed is too subdued to be anything but real. “Honeybee that is gorgeous. My compliments to the chef.”

“The chef is glad to hear it.” You swipe your thumb over his lip, collecting the sheen of juice and garlicky butter and bringing it to your own mouth, delicately sucking it off. “Could’ve used a bit more rosemary.”

Whiskey shakes his head. “Mm-mm. This is perfection on a plate, baby. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

The smile that earns him is genuine, and you bend to give him a quick kiss. He presses it, just a little, a swipe of his tongue that you open for just enough to nip at before pulling away. “Eat.” You gesture meaningfully at his plate.

All told, there isn’t actually much on it. Steak, roasted new potatoes, and asparagus with hollandaise sauce. You’ve only served up maybe half of what you’d usually set in front of him for dinner, opting for more reserved portions. It’s a favor to you both - his patience wouldn’t last through a full meal without the need for physical restraints. There’s more in the kitchen, of course, and an actual pie for dessert if you happen to get that far. You’re both bound to be hungry again after.

Whiskey tucks in, fork in his left hand while his right stays comfortably curled around your thigh, slowly creeping higher and higher until he’s playing with the lacy top of your stocking. You give him a warning tilt of your head, your own fork poised halfway to your mouth. All you get in return is those plaintive, innocent puppy dog eyes of his, but his hand doesn’t advance further.

All in all you’re rather proud of his restraint, at least until one spear of asparagus manages to drip hollandaise down onto your cleavage. Suddenly that quietly repressed hunger cracks and he’s surging up towards you, mouth half-open and tongue peaking out, ready to clean you up.

But that won’t do. Not yet. Your reflexes might not be as good as his, but they’re nothing to balk at, either. You brace yourself back on one hand, leaning away and planting one of your high heels against his shoulder to shove him back into his seat. The look on his face is priceless; mouth agape and pupils blown.

Slowly you shake your head. “You know better, Jack.”

His eyes track up the inside of your thigh to the crotch of your bodysuit - or rather, the lack thereof - and the split strips of lace that don’t cover your mound, but frame it prettily for him. “Fuck, honeybee,” he mutters breathlessly.

Dinner and a show was always the plan. So you take your time, dipping your finger and swiping up the stripe of creamy yellow and holding it out to him. Whiskey stares you down as he takes the tip of your finger into his mouth and sucks dutifully, his tongue plush and soft and working against the pad of your finger the same way he worries it over your clit. A rush of heat rockets through you, leaving your belly warm and a sweet tingle tripping down your spine in its wake.

Biting your lip hard to rein in the impulse to just slide into his lap, you drag your finger out of his mouth. It’s what he wants; to make you break first, to make you lose at your own game. And where’s the fun in that?

“It is your birthday, so I’m going to cut you a little bit of slack, but if you can’t mind your manners and do as you’re fucking told, you’re gonna get a lot worse than a birthday spanking, pretty boy. Now, I told you: no dessert until you finish your dinner.” There’s precious little left on his plate; a few scraps of steak, a couple potatoes, one lone spear of asparagus. You stab this last with your fork and hold it out to him. “Last chance, baby. You open your mouth for me and be a good boy, and you can have me any way you want.”

Whiskey looks dazed; seething and starved and love-struck all at once. You don’t even need to look down to know he’s hard. But he hesitates just for a moment, whether it’s deliberate or accidental you’re not really sure - sometimes the man just really wants to be punished - but in that space you see his body jerk, hunching slightly as his abdominal muscles contract involuntarily. You follow the movement with your eyes and sure enough, there he is. Full mast and straining hard against thick denim.

Smiling sweetly, you wave the fork at him. “Your choice, Jack.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, and the roughshod timbre of his voice says it’d be a fine way to go.

Whiskey opens his mouth and takes what you give him.

You’re slow about it. Careful. Admonishing him when he tries to chew a little too quickly. Whiskey stares you down with eyes like coal seconds away from ignition. He holds your gaze while you slip another bite of food into his mouth, then lets his eyes slip down until they fix firmly on your half-exposed and already glistening cunt, and you know the moment you give him an inch he’s going to wreck the hell out of you for this.

When the last bite passes his lips he curls his hand around your ankle, squeezing. Always pushing his luck, this man of yours. You set his plate aside, glancing away like it’s no effort at all as he very methodically wipes his mouth with his napkin.

“Now can I have my dessert?” Impatience roughens the low gravel of his voice into something dangerously sharp.

You smile, leaning back on one hand. “There’s peach pie in the kitchen.”

He presses forward, left hand sliding big and warm up the inside of your thigh. The motion presses the leg you’ve used to pin him to his chair back until your knee is nearly flush with your chest, opening you up wider, the rush of air between your legs now shockingly cold against the wetness that had gathered there.

“Woman, the only pie I want a piece of is the one sitting right in front of me.”

The stretch along the back of your thigh burns, so you shift, hooking your leg over his shoulder instead. “I haven’t finished my dinner yet,” you protest cooly, reaching down to snag a strip of steak off your still half-full plate and popping it into your mouth.

Whiskey’s hands slip higher, and this time you don’t stop him, too busy sucking the buttery juices off your fingers. When the very very tips of his fingers brush the spread lace at the crux of your thighs he freezes, waiting for the rebuke, for fingers around his neck or your other heel to plant square in his chest. You consider it, sure; it’s certainly not a prospect without its merits. A man that enjoys being under your thumb is satisfying in a way that few things in life ever fully measure up to.

But honestly, you’ve worked hard enough tonight. Time to let him put in a little effort.

A tilt of your head and a curl of your foot against his shoulder is permission enough; slipping off the leash by way of a gesture, and the low smolder in his eyes blooms to a full burn. Whiskey stands to his full height, looming close enough for you to feel the heat bake off him as he shrugs off his jacket and unbuttons the cuffs on his dress shirt, rolling them up with a few quick turns of his wrists.

“Can’t let my girl go hungry now,” he hums in a voice like burnt molasses. “Lemme give you a hand there, honeybee.”

Smirking, Whiskey wraps an arm around you, brushing the tip of his nose against yours as you wriggle against solid heat of his body. His left hand wanders out of sight on the table as his lips meet yours, teasing your mouth open with the barest brush of his tongue, while his right hand trails warm and slow around your side and down and down to cup your mound.

It’s hard to believe you ever felt cold. You’re burning up now, skin flushed hot as his mouth grazes yours and breathes out: “Open up for me.”

And just like magic, you do. No input needed on your behalf; your mouth simply drops open and your legs shift wider in accommodation for him. There’s a clink of silverware and then he’s waving a fork at you, a strip of steak speared on the end. Whiskey’s eyes glitter as he pushes it into your waiting mouth. Each bite he feeds you is accompanied by a teasing dip of his fingers into your core, feeding you with his left hand while he touches you with his right. Your slickened folds part smooth and easy as he pushes his fingers inside you, a welcome but all too brief intrusion, before they trail up again to stroke at your clit. Again and again you rock your hips up, trying to encourage him to slip into you deeper, to give you a taste of the fullness and pressure of his cock, but every time his touch retreats.

You whine; a strange mix of frustration and pleasure. “Tease.”

“Takes one to know one,” he coos, the hand between your legs working faster. Heat builds quickly under his fingertips, a friction far more appetizing than anything else you’ve set on the table tonight. “You made the rules, honeybee. No dessert until after you finish supper. You do want your dessert, don’t you?”

He brings the next bite up, holds it tantalizingly close. You stretch out and he draws it back, and suddenly his fingers are rubbing a firm, determined circle on your clit. Your whole body jolts, gasping air with a pitiful little whine. There’s nothing but mischief on his face as he watches you, tongue sweeping against his bottom lip. He slows his fingers, brings the fork down again, closer this time. The food brushes your bottom lip before he pulls it away, fingers quickening again.

“Jesus,” you all but squeak. “Jack, don’t be mean.”

Whiskey gives you a considering hum, leaning forward to suck the sheen of butter off your bottom lip. “Oh darlin’ I would never,” he insists, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss that’s tender enough to be very nearly sincere if it weren’t for the fact that the motion of his hand never slows. A sweet, bright heat begins to build under his fingertips. “How could I be mean to my girl when she worked so hard for me, hm? I’m just paying that back in kind is all. You wanna come on my fingers, baby, you can do that all you like. I’ll make you come ‘til those pretty little legs can’t do much more than shimmy. You know I can. But you ain’t gettin’ nothin’ else until you clean your plate like a good girl.”

“H-ha-ah, fuck-how much more?”

He grins devilishly. “Just this last bite.”

“Oh you f-fucking jackass!”

Whiskey laughs. “Guilty as charged. Open up, baby, take what I got for you.”

He pushes the last bite past your lips and immediately delves his fingers into your warm and waiting cunt. The breath shudders out of you, fingers digging into the tablecloth as you try to hang onto enough composure to remember to chew and swallow. He’s slow for a moment, pumping and curling his fingers gently while he watches you eat. There’s a clink of silverware as he discards the fork and puts his arm around you, pressing his lips against your forehead.

“Good girl,” he murmurs sweetly.

Mouth empty now, you nudge your nose against his chin, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Jack-”

And then his grip becomes determined. The fingers inside you flex, the heel of his hand pressing hard against your clit and all you can do is cry out against the soft skin of his neck and hang on for dear life while he works you up and over the edge with shocking speed.

Trembling, you lock your legs around him as you come down, dragging his collar aside to bite lazily into the place where his neck and shoulder meet.

“Fuck,” he groans, hips rutting up against the back of his hand between your legs. “How do you want me, honeybee?”

That earns him a breathless laugh, goosebumps raising along his neck. “It’s your birthday, Jack. What do you want?”

Whiskey’s eyes drop to your mouth and he makes a considering sound, pulling back to suck you delicately off his fingers. “I think I want your mouth. And then I think I want to fuck you right here on this table until that divinely sweet little pussy wrings me fucking dry. Sound good to you, honeybee?”

“That can be arranged.” His eyelids flutter as you reach down to his zipper, not even bothering with his belt before you reach inside his jeans and the button fly of his boxers to tug his cock free, cupping your fingers to draw his balls out, too.

You move to stand and he shakes his head, caging you in. “No. Not on your knees, baby. On the table. I wanna see you all spread out for me. My pretty little present.”

He helps you. Sweeps your hair back as you lie flat on the dining table, scooting back to let your head hang just a bit. It’s not exactly comfortable. The edge of the table digs into your neck a bit, and the way the blood rushes to your head is not entirely pleasant either. But you watch Whiskey pace around you to take his place in front of your waiting mouth, cock bobbing and just barely beginning to leak for you, and you feel a gorgeous rush of heat at the sight.

Whiskey slides his palm up your stomach to cup one barely-covered breast. “Gorgeous,” he mutters, squeezing. “Absolutely beautiful.”

“Jack.”

“I know, darlin’, I know. But my God you’re a picture.” He cups your cheek, absently brushes the corner of your mouth with his thumb before sliding his hand back to give your head a little support. “Open up for me, angel.”

And once again, you open up for what he gives you. The angle makes it strange, the topography of Jack’s body less familiar as he slips into your mouth, your tongue dragging wet and slow over foreign terrain. The taste of him, hot skin and the tang of bitter salt, that you know well enough. You close your eyes at it, bring your hands up to his hips to tug him slowly forward and listen to the way he moans.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, breathless and a little awe-struck. “Jesus fucking Christ. You spoil me, baby. Sweet as fucking honey, my god.”

A light touch against your breast makes you shiver, goosebumps raising as it draws lightly over your skin. A single fingertip, sliding the lace of the bodysuit aside to bare your breasts to the chill of the room and the warmth of Whiskey’s hands.

He mutters sweet things as he begins to move; sweet, tender, unconscionably filthy things. All the things you do to him. Do for him. The rocking of his hips is gentle at first, feeding you his cock inch by cautious inch. When he hits the back of your throat he pulls back on reflex, but the light scrape of your teeth and the sudden tightness of your grip on the plush meat of his ass sends him forward again. The angle eases the motion, and you relax into the pressure as he pushes in and in and...oh.

You feel the resistance at the back of your throat give gently; strange, but not uncomfortable. Above you, Whiskey lets out a pained groan.

“Shit. Oh shit yes, honeybee. Take it. Ohhh s-shit. Take all of it. Every goddamn inch. Fuck.”

And then his hips are flush with your mouth, the soft skin of his balls pressed up against your nose. Panting, he wraps a hand around the stretched column of your throat, swearing breathlessly. He moves, a small, careful thrust, and you can feel the tremor that ripples through him at the feeling.

“Just a little more baby,” he mumbles, pulling back until just the head of his cock rests within the warmth of your mouth. You suckle at it, working it eagerly with your lips and tongue while you breathe raggedly through your nose. Your hips jut up into thin air on their own accord, just as eager for him as your mouth is.

“I got you, honeybee.” The hand at your neck slips down, skimming over skin and lace until he finds your clit. The first touch jolts you, your cry stifled on his cock as you shudder up against him. “Good girl. I got you, baby. Jack’s got you. Keep going. Just a little more. Just a little more and then I’ll fill you right on up. Fuck my sweet girl’s brains right out of her head. Prettiest fuckin’ thing I ever fuckin seen, baby, holy fuck.”

You moan something against him - pleasure, acquiescence, god only knows - but the sound of it is lost as his cock slides steadily back into your mouth. The pressure in your head is distracting, tears prickling your eyes when he pushes in deep, but the stroking of his fingers and the feel of him in your mouth, sliding hard and slick and effortlessly down your throat is far more consuming than the discomfort.

He rocks into you. Fucks into you. Moans and gasping praises falling thick and fast from his lips as he moves. You don’t need to feel the way his balls draw up tight to know how close he is, how tight he’s riding the line between what he wants to do and what his body wants to do. You’re lost in it all the same; his pleasure and the fraying thread of his restraint. Your own pleasure, building quick and low and locking down the muscles in your thighs until they tremble. You float in it, overwhelmed and dizzy, until, very suddenly, you break.

Whiskey curses, pulling back to listen to you cry out, to let you curl up and clutch at him as he pants above you, muttering broken, desperate please of: “yes god yes honeybee all of it, gimme all of it, every last bit.”

You’re a wreck in the aftermath; pliant and limp, face teary and slick with spit and precome. He draws you up, wiping your face with a clean napkin before pulling you into a kiss that steals away whatever remained of your breath. He gathers you up, turns you until you can wrap your still-tingling limbs around him. Nudges his hips against yours, his wet cock dragging against slick skin and fragile lace.

“You okay, baby?” he asks, trailing soft kisses over your face.

You have to clear your throat before you can respond, the sound of it harsh and ragged like an engine turning over. “Y-yeah. Yeah I’m good. Dizzy, but good.”

“You ain’t the only one, honeybee. Almost didn’t make it in time. Wanted to fill up that pretty mouth so bad. You just about did me in.”

He laughs and you join him, breathing ragged joy into each other’s lungs.

“Still want me to fuck you?” The question should be coarse, but somehow isn’t. Not with his sweat-slick forehead pressed to yours and his lips ghosting kisses against your mouth with every breath.

“So sweet,” you mutter, combing your hands through his hair.

“LIke hell,” he scoffs, holding you tight to his chest. “I ain’t and you know it.”

“You are to me,” you insist, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose. He smiles, softens everywhere but that place that throbs with impatient heat against you. “Now fuck me, pretty boy.”

A flash of a grin is the only warning you get before he’s hooking his arms under your knees and pulling you to the edge of the table. “Yes ma’am,” he says obligingly, planting a hand between your breasts to push you back against the table as he lines himself up, sliding into you with one smooth, achingly deep stroke.

You moan, knees drawing up as his hips meet yours and he fills the space inside you that’s been aching for him all day. Whiskey lets out a groaning sigh, leaning into you like he wants to bury himself whole inside you. He hoists one of your legs up against his chest, nuzzles the inside of your knee while he tries to find his breath again. The length of him inside you is rigid as steel and blindingly hot, still so close to his own end that he has to wait, worrying his teeth over your skin, until the urge to just rut against you like an animal until he comes finally passes.

And when it does, when he opens his eyes at last, he looks down at you with a dazed, hungry smile. He presses a kiss to the tip of his finger and brings it down to your lips.

“Love you, honeybee.”

Heavy-lidded and so wonderfully full, you kiss his finger and arch your back. “Love you, too, cowboy.”

And that’s the last intelligent thing you manage to say. Finally - finally! - Whiskey fucks you, each pounding swing of his hips making the china rattle like nervous teeth. Your arms strike out, curling and flailing, trying to find something to grab onto as he fucks you. The heel of your hand strikes one of the wine glasses and sends it tumbling to the floor where it shatters. The breath leaves your body in tiny bursts with each impact; little monosyllabic cries punctuating each one.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” Whiskey murmurs. He cups your breasts, thumbing the pebbled sharpness of your nipples before his hands slide lower, finding the deep notch of the bodysuit between them. “Wrapped up so pretty for me.”

The lace tears away like it’s nothing, a clean rip down the center. Oh well. He’ll buy you another.

Whiskey folds over you, pulling you down closer so he can get an arm under your back, his hand grasping the back of your neck and pulling you up to meet his mouth. He’s still wearing his tie, the drape of fabric laying cool against your chest. Blessedly he’s not wearing his usual belt buckle. Foresight or oversight you’re not quite sure, but you’re grateful all the same as he grinds into you, a press of cold metal and leather against your belly.

He’s not going to last long, but it hardly matters. You’re too worked up, two orgasms down already, cunt so swollen and sensitive it’s hardly an effort to get you there again. But the feeling of him inside you turns that bright burn into something lower, deeper. Something that makes your muscles lock and tremble, straining up against him and gasping into his mouth.

“Jaaaack,” you whine, arms locked around his neck.

“Yes, baby,” he groans, voice quivering with every thrust. “Fuck yes I’m right there too, c’mon. Come with me, honeybee, come with me.”

His rhythm falters, grinding deeper and deeper, and all that strained tension in your body snaps like a rubberband. You sob, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt, twisting and jerking as you come apart under him.

All Whiskey can do is growl as you bear down on him, gritting a litany of “yes, yes, fuck yes, god yes, that’s my girl that’s my girl that’s my fucking girl.” And then he’s gone, too, driving into you with a sudden jolt and crying out against the side of your neck as he comes.

You’re holding him too tight, clutching him to you as you both lie there, panting and shuddering, a spreading stain of red wine pooling next to your head.

“Jesus,” he whispers, tries to shift up to find your mouth, but even that amount of drag on his oversensitive cock is enough to make him hiss and jerk. “Fuck.”

“Mm-hm,” you agreed dumbly.

Whiskey lets out a growling hum, smoothing your hair. “You good, honeybee?”

You trail kisses up to his ear, still breathless. “What do you think?”

He wheezes a laugh. “I think I gotta replace a lot more than your frillies this time.” The laugh turns giddy, and Whiskey presses his forehead against your temple. “And I think I’m hungry.”

“Pie in the kitchen,” you mumble, too drowsy to do much more than nuzzle into the damp tangle of Whiskey’s hair.

“What kind?”

“Peach.”

He hums, smiling drowsily. “My favorite.”

You give a slow nod. “I know. Happy birthday, Jack.”

He kisses you, slow and sweet. “Best I ever had,” he murmurs.

#Anonymous #agent whiskey #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #citrus variations

545 notes · View notes

sugako · 4 years ago

Text

bunny

iwaizumi x f!reader sum: iwa drunkenly lets it slip that he wants to call you bunny, but when you decide to tease him things get out of hand cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, smut, D/s themes, bunny costume, use of nickname ‘bunny’, borders on petplay, breeding kink, anal plug, creampie, slight degradation, oral (female receiving) wc: 1.8k a/n: irl i rarely let people call me pet names but hajime iwaizumi (27) pussy pounder could call me bunny any day of the week 😈

You had to keep telling yourself that you bought the costume as a joke. It was just a joke. Just a joke. Nearly two weeks ago now, Iwaizumi had drunkenly called you ‘bunny’. With cutely slurred words he had professed how much he wanted to call you that all the time, but was too embarrassed to do so. You had not been near as gone as he was and proceeded to endlessly tease him the next morning and purchase the full suit without his knowledge.

But now you actually had the thing on and couldn’t help feeling a little turned on. The shiny fabric hugged your body well and the tight little bow around your neck accentuated the low cut of the bodysuit. Fitted thigh highs, cute ears on a headband, and the puffy tail situation just above the curve of your ass rounded everything out. Taking a deep breath you headed out of the bathroom and down the hall. If he didn’t like it, then your joke worked and if he did… then that was more than okay with you too.

You tapped lightly on the half-open door of your shared bedroom. “Hajime?” You called out softly, suddenly getting a little wave of nerves.

“Yeah?” He answered quickly. When you didn’t answer right away you heard the bed shift. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no,” you stammered from just behind the crack in the door. “I wanna show you something, but I want you to close your eyes first okay?”

“Uh, sure. My eyes are closed.”

You hear him sigh at your antics. Confident that he had followed your request you fully stepped into the room. He was seated on the edge of the bed, hands held behind him to prop himself up. Because of the lazy day you were both having, he was only wearing a comfy pair of sweatpants. You had to fight the urge to admire his toned upper body and strong arms too much as you approached him.

“Can I open my eyes?” He grunted.

“Not yet.” Taking a deep breath you approached him, sliding your hands over his bulky shoulders and stepping between his thighs. “Okay, now.”

His pretty eyes blinked open. When his jaw swung slightly open and he didn’t say anything for a moment you felt yourself getting a little nervous again.

“Well, say something!” You quipped.

He blinked hard and chuckled, pushing you back by your waist to eye you up and down.

“Did you get this to tease me?” Iwa’s hands dropped to the slope of your ass to pull you back between his legs. “Because I think you look way more flustered than me.”

You pouted and pushed his pliant body back on the bed. Straddling him, you sunk your ass against his cock that was hardening under his soft sweats. A strangled moan hissed out from his throat as you adjusted yourself in his lap.

“You do look great, though.” He groaned as you ground against him. “I would’ve called you bunny earlier if I knew I could get this out of it.”

Your eyebrows knitted, trying to gain some control of the situation.

“So needy, Haji. You wanna fuck your bunny?” Your lips ghosted on the shell of his ear as you continued slowly rutting into him. His hands were gripping your thighs hard, keeping you flush against him. You licked a thin stripe up the front of his sensitive neck before fluttering your lips just over his. “That’s so nasty, you get off on this?” You grinned, sitting back up.

His eyes narrowed on you and before you could think he had thrown you onto your back.

“I’m nasty, bunny?” He hoisted your knees over his shoulders as he crawled between your legs.

“Yeah.” Your answer was breathless and void of any strength you had clung to prior.

“Huh, is that why you were fucking me through my pants like a bitch in heat?” Thick fingers unbuttoned the gusset of the bodysuit and brushed against your sopping heat. “So wet already, bunny.” His arms circled around your waist and yanked you against his face. As though his tongue was at the ready, he began lapping thick stripes up your folds. You gasped and squirmed in his iron grip. “Need me to fuck you, bunny? Huh? Fill up this pretty hole and cum inside this cute tummy?”

“I-ah! Y-yes.”

“I don’t know, that sounds pretty nasty, bunny.” He said between laps. “But if my sweet, little bunny just has to be bred, does that make me nasty?”

Your brain was full of dense fog now. His voice was so clear in your eyes, but you couldn’t quite make out an answer. You reach for his hands and grab hard onto where his wrists are holding down your lower abdomen.

“I asked you a question, bunny.” He punctuated his sharp tone by sucking hard on your clit. Just one more little touch and you knew you would come undone.

“No?” Your answer came in the form of another question, hoping you had been correct. “Gonna cum!” You whine as he suckles against you mercilessly.

“Didn’t say you could, bunny.” He murmurs against you, continuing his motions. You can’t help it as your hips buck against his face, core twitching under his strong arm. Tears are pricking the edges of your eyes as you try to speak up.

“You… you made me. Couldn’t stop.” You heave the words out like they weigh a ton. Iwa just gives a low laugh against your throbbing heat and sits up. As he starts to pull down his pants, you speak up again, unsure why you’re even telling him this. “Tail…” you rolled over onto your stomach and clumsily yanked to pull it out, “...comes out.”

He could only stare at the cute little pouf with the silver bottom. The little plug had come as part of the suit, it just rested inside a bit of circular elastic. You hadn’t even really thought about actually using it until now.

“Want me to use it on you, bunny?” He asked softly, already leaning over you to reach for the lube in the bedside table.

“Please,” you whimpered, lifting your ass up just a little. He takes the plug from you and sets it on the bed before shucking his sweats off the rest of the way. You wish you could see his heavy cock leaking that sweet precum like it always did when he got excited, but you were too comfortable in your position to move.

“Who am I to deny my sweet, horny bunny?” You can hear the grin in his voice as he squirts a good amount of lube into his hand. His other hand helps to part your cheeks before he swipes the lube covered fingers just against your puckered hole. “Gonna, stretch you out a little first, okay, bunny?”

“Uh-huh.” You nod your head into the comforter, trying to relax. He slips one thick finger just past your hole and slowly enters, watching you very carefully for any signs of discomfort.

“Feeling good?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. The feeling isn’t one you’re used to, but being filled soothes some of the need in your aching core. He’s generous with the lube as he slowly adds another finger.

“Good girl.” He sighs as you flutter around him. While he wanted to take all the time in the world with you right now, he could feel that he was growing impatient. “Putting it in now, bunny.”

You could only hum to him as the heavy end of the plug prodded at your entrance, assisted by one of his fingers. A small whine escapes your throat as it slips past the mess of lube and your own dripping slick. The soft fuzz of the tail brushed against your cheeks. Even though you know you aren’t in control, you feel as though you’ve won.

Iwa massages your ass, admiring the little puff settled neatly between your cheeks. He leans over your quivering body to give you a light kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

He carefully adjusts you so your ass is as high as it can be in the air with your chest squashed against the bed. Normally, he wants you to feel so good and be so comfortable, but he’s running out of selflessness. In one motion, added by the lube dripping down from your already filled hole, he slides his entire thick cock inside.

“Haji-jime!” You scream at the sudden intrusion. His tip prods at your deepest point, making you clench tight around him and the plug. The extra sensation of being so full is making you quiver already.

“Fuck, bunny, you’re already creaming all over me.” He gave you approximately eight seconds to adjust before he pulled out at lightning speed and began roughly fucking into you. It was impossible to tell him how good it all felt with only a garbled mess of words spilling out from you. Every time you accidentally clenched you could feel the tail nestled inside you better and better.

You tucked your head under yourself only to see a thick drip of cum sliding from between your legs. The vision before you and the mix of Iwa’s deep pants and the slosh of his cock assaulting your wet cunt was enough to make you clench down hard around him.

“Settle down,” He soothed, rubbing at your back until you lifted your head back up and rested your cheek against the bed. Your entire body pistoned forward with every single one of his explosive thrusts. “That’s right, take my cock, bunny. You can take it. Gonna fill you up soon, but I need you to cum again, okay?”

“Mhmm.” You whine, frantically reaching between your thighs to rub tight circles against your puffy clit.

“Make yourself cum on my cock, bunny, c’mon.” He groaned as you almost immediately began squeezing around him. “Gonna fill you up so good, my sweet, little, horny bunny.”

Your fingers slipped clumsily as you humped back toward his hips, trying to suck him in more and more. That crashing feeling filled you as Iwa kept steadily pounding into you. It was impossible to not cry out at the feeling.

“Good girl, good girl…” He mutters praises just as he rams into you a final time. You let out a breathy moan as his seed fills you up, coating your tight walls. He shallowly ruts into you a few more times, releasing everything he has into you.

Both of you lay in position for a minute more until he finally begins to soften, and slowly pulls out of you. He watches in admiration as your cunt clenches around nothing, some of his thick cum slipping just past your puffy lips. You flinch a little when his hand wraps around the tail.

“Wait!” You couldn’t help but sound a little desperate.

“Is something wrong?” His caring tone is full of genuine concern.

“No, just want to keep it in a little longer.” You answer sheepishly. He grunts a little behind you and lays down beside you, taking off the skewed headband ears and resting your head on his chest. “Hajime, don’t you wanna get cleaned up?” You asked quietly.

“No point when I’m going to fill you back up in a few minutes anyway.”

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut #hajime x reader #iwa smut #hajime smut #hajime iwaizumi x reader #hajime iwaizumi smut #hq smut

723 notes · View notes

bxcketbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Becoming Soft

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Words: 2600+

Author’s Note: Hey, guys! I’m going to be writing for Loki now cause I’m so far up his ass. He’s pretty. Very fucking pretty. I hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know what you think!

"Hey, Y/N! I totally left my uniform at your place when I stopped by the other night. Could you be a doll and bring it to the compound?"

A chuckle leaves your lips as you eye the bodysuit that's draped over the chair in your living room. "Yeah, Nat. I'll be over as soon as I get ready," you tell her with a grin.

"You're a lifesaver, oh my god," she groans and you laugh in response. "When you get here you can just come on up, alright?"

"I know the drill. I'll see you soon, Natasha," you mumble and the two of you bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Believe it or not, this isn't the first time Natasha has left her suit here. Usually, she comes straight over to your place after a mission to clear her head. It's a nice tradition you have, but sometimes you worry about her mental health.

You quickly slip your night clothes off before sliding on a pair of black jeans with a few holes in them, throwing a silky tank top over your head afterward. You simply do your morning routine before making your way towards the front door.

You toss her suit into your bag, running a hand through your hair to fluff it up while leaving your apartment. It didn't take you long to make it to the Avengers compound, seeing Wanda and Vision sitting on the bench near the front door.

A smile comes to your face at how close the two of them are. You park your car outside of the building before turning your vehicle off. "Hey, Wanda. Vision," you greet the pair and they give you a small wave.

"Nat forget her suit again?" Wanda teases and you let out a snort, nodding your head.

"That she did. I'm starting to feel like a dry cleaner," you like as you walk past the two of them.

You run your fingers over the material of her jumpsuit, not paying attention to where you're going when your body collides with someone else.

A gasp leaves your lips as you stumble a bit, placing your hands on the person's chest as apologies come from your lips while glancing up through your lashes. The God of Mischief stands in front of you with a somber look on his face.

You gulp and slowly remove your hands from his chest. "I'm sorry," you mumble quietly and Loki looks away from you before pushing past you, his shoulder bumping against yours. You watch him walk away as you can feel a twinge of hurt flow through your body. "Excuse me, I apologized. The least you can say is, "that's okay!""

The raven-haired man halts in his tracks before glancing over his shoulder, his green eyes looking down at you. "Maybe you should watch where you're going," he states before continuing to walk away from you.

A scoff leaves your lips and crosses your arms over your chest. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and continue to make your way towards Natasha's room.

"Oh, you're here! Thank god!" She grins while walking towards you.

A laugh leaves your lips and hands her the suit. You gently chew your bottom lip as you decide to ask her what's up with Loki.

"So, is Loki always… gloomy?" You ask out of curiosity and Nat raises an eyebrow in response. "I accidentally ran into him on my way in and he was just-"

"Unpleasant?" She cuts you off and a sigh leaves your lips, nodding your head. "That's just Loki. He's like that to everyone. Don't take it personally."

You hum and glance out her window to see the God of Mischief sitting in the middle of the field. "Can't help but feel intrigued by him," you mutter and keep your eyes on the god.

Natasha watches you and sees the gears turning in your brain, knowing you're thinking of ways to try and get closer to Loki. The blonde doesn't know whether or not it's a good idea, but she knows that she won't be able to stop you.

"You should go talk to him. Maybe he'll warm up to you," Nat tells you and you glance over your shoulder.

"I doubt that."

Natasha shrugs her shoulders as you head towards her bedroom door, contemplating the idea. "Go try. You need to be more social," she teases and you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Fine. I'll go embarrass myself," you mumble and Natasha laughs as you walk out of her room.

You make your way down to the exit, greeting Steve as you walk by the man. You tangle your fingers together as you grow closer to Loki, feeling yourself becoming more nervous.

You notice him reading a book and you low-key wonder what it is, being a book connoisseur yourself. "Whatcha reading?" You ask him and Loki doesn't even look up at you.

"A book," he bluntly says and you let out a snort, moving to sit beside him.

"Well, no shit Sherlock," you grin amusingly.

Loki doesn't say anything and closes his book. He hmphs before pushing himself up off of the ground and starts to head back.

A frown replaces the grin on your lips and you sigh. "Well, that failed," you tell yourself. Loki hears your defeated sigh and looks back at you to see your slumped figure.

He hums quietly while tapping his fingers against the hard-covered book. Loki clicks his tongue before continuing to walk towards the compound, heading back to his room.

You stare off towards the woods as your fingers pick at the grass. You sit there for a few more minutes before picking yourself up. You dust yourself off and turn back towards the large building when a piece of paper on the ground in front of you.

You furrow your eyebrows and lean down to pick it up. "Sifdotter's, The Glow of Winter," you read aloud and a small smile comes to your lips. "If you want you're more than welcome to come by. I've got plenty of books if you're interested."

Your heart flutters in your chest as you read the handwritten note. You twirl the note between your fingers before placing it into your pocket. Your gaze moves up towards the second floor of the building, seeing Loki standing in front of his window.

The God's hands rest behind his back as he watches you walk towards the front, hearing your thoughts from fifty yards away. A smirk comes to his lips as he hears you think about trying to get closer to him.

"Interesting…"

You rush into the compound, muttering apologies as you almost run into some of the Avengers. Natasha watches you run by her with a small smirk on her lips, seeing you run up the stairs. "Loki!" You call out and the man peeks his head out of the bedroom, a raised eyebrow on his face.

"Yes?" He mumbles and you skid to a stop, almost running into the man.

You pull a book out that you found at the bookshop, a large grin on your lips. "I found this and thought you would like it," you tell him and the man looks down at the book, reading the title before reaching out to grab it.

A blush covers your cheeks as Loki's fingers brush against yours. His green eyes meet yours and your breath hitches in your throat, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "This is sweet," Loki mumbles quietly, a small smile on his lips as he rummages through the novel.

"It just…" you trail off and press your lips together, your cheeks heating up. "When I saw the book I immediately thought of you, so I bought it."

Loki grins at your words and reaches his hand towards your face, stroking your cheek with the back of his fingers. "You're quite adorable, you know," he says and you look away from him.

"I- Thank you," you mumble in response, not used to this kind of affection from Loki.

The raven-haired man eyes you carefully, trying to figure out what move to do next. He's not particularly experienced in the dating world, and he definitely doesn't know how far you're comfortable with.

You clear your throat as Loki's fingers continue to stroke your flushed cheeks, feeling his eyes on you the whole time. "Are you going to let me go?" You ask quietly as you can't bring yourself to look him in the eye.

He makes you nervous, has been ever since you first met him a couple of years ago. You're surprised you let Natasha talk you into trying to be his friend, but you don't regret it.

Loki grins and drops his hand from your face, hearing your thoughts ask a million questions at once. "I don't quite want to but since you asked so nicely," he teases and you scoff playfully as you scratch at your neck.

"Oh my god, Loki. You're killing me," you mumble while walking towards his window. The man chuckles and follows closely, placing the book you gave him into his bed.

Loki steps up behind you, one of his hands gliding up your arms as the God inhales your scent. "I'm not… I'm not used to this feeling, darling. But, you make my heart flutter," he whispers into your ear and your eyes flutter shut as you swallow thickly.

You turn around quickly, Loki's hands resting on your hips. "Do I really? Me?" You whisper and the raven-haired man chuckles before nodding his head.

His green eyes glance down at your lips and your breath hitches in your throat. "Can I kiss you?" Loki asks politely and you nod your head.

Loki brings his hand up to your neck, his fingers grazing along the soft skin before resting against the back of your neck. The two of you lean closer towards each other and you feel his breath fan your face. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush against yours, a shudder running down your spine.

You press your lips against him and you feel butterflies roam around your stomach. Loki pulls your body close to his, his arms wrapping around your waist. Cheers can be heard from outside Loki's window, causing the two of you to pull apart.

You glance over your shoulder to see Natasha watching you and your cheeks blush. "Well, maybe we shouldn't have kissed in front of everyone," you mumble quietly and Loki laughs, his hand rubbing your back softly.

"Eh, I don't mind. Now everyone knows you're mine, darling," he hums in response and you bite your lip.

"Well, I should let you get back to whatever you're doing," you tell him and pull away. "You guys have a mission?"

Loki shrugs his shoulders and glances out the window, seeing everyone bring stuff into the quinjet. "I guess so. I'm not around them much, so I'm usually the last one to find out," he mumbles and you frown slightly.

"Are they… are they nice to you?" You ask him and Loki chuckles.

"Yeah, they are now. At first not so much. It's not them, it's just me. I'm used to being alone," he informs you and you nod your head in response. "You're more than welcome to come by when we get back."

You smile softly as you tangle your fingers together. "Yeah, I can come by," you grin, and Loki nods, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Also, I know you're a god and all but please be careful."

The raven-haired man chuckles and strokes your cheek. "I am a God, darling. I'm always careful."

"Y/N!" Natasha calls out while pounding on your door. You jump up from your slumber, looking around with a confused expression on your face. "Y/N, answer the door!"

You scramble out of bed and rush towards your front door. You’re breathing heavily as the anxiety easily fills your body, worried that something might have happened.

A gasp leaves your lips as you open your door to see Natasha dragging Loki's unconscious body. "What happened?!" You ask and usher her into the apartment.

"We were trying to sneak into the building when Loki was found," Nat informs you as the two of you lay him on your sofa. "They banged him up pretty good."

You notice the cuts on his face and gently trail your fingertips along the wounds. "When did he go unconscious?" You ask her, glancing towards the blonde.

"About fifteen minutes ago. On our way back to the compound," she mentions and you furrow your eyebrows, wondering why she brought him here.

"Then why did you bring him here? They have med-bay at the compound?!" You freak out while resting your hand upon Loki's shoulder.

Natasha sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "Before he passed out he told me to bring him to you," she mumbles and you furrow your eyebrows. "I need to get back but if you need me, call me."

You nod your head as the woman leaves your apartment, leaving you and an unconscious Loki alone. You glance towards the clock to see it's almost two in the morning. A sigh leaves your lips as you try to remove his clothes.

Loki's hand suddenly grips yours as you attempt to push his shirt up. A gasp leaves your lips as your eyes widen. A cough leaves the man's lips before letting out a groan.

"Loki?" You quietly call out and his eyes slowly open.

His grip on your wrist loosens and you bring your hand to his face. "Hey, darling," Loki groans while leaning into your touch.

You give him a small smile, still worried about him as he tries to sit up. A few groans leave his lips as Loki manages to sit against the back of the couch. "Are you okay?" You ask and he nods his head. "You told me you'd be careful."

Loki looks up at you and grabs your hand once more, lacing his fingers with yours. "I'm okay, love. It's merely a scratch. Nothing I can't handle. I'm a god, remember?" He jokes with you and you frown, squeezing his hand.

"Doesn't mean I'm not worried about you, Loki. I know we've only been an item for maybe seven hours, but I-"

"I know, darling," Loki cuts you off, giving you a smile. "I've felt it for a while. It was always there. I was just too stubborn to take action."

You chew on your lip and sit beside the man, your hand resting on his leg. "I've never felt this strongly about anyone," you mumble and Loki grins.

"Me neither, love."

You kiss his cheek and can feel his cheeks heat up under your lips. A giggle leaves your lips and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you have any serious injuries?” You ask the man and Loki shakes his head. You let out a breath of relief and mumble to yourself as Loki wraps his arms around you.

“I’m in the midst of healing, love. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“C’mon,” you mumble and pull yourself out of Loki’s grasp, standing up from the couch. “You need some rest, so let’s get some sleep.”

You tug on the man’s arm and a chuckle leaves your lips as you try to pull him off of the couch. Loki smiles and pushes himself up, your fingers intertwining with each other as you lead him towards your bedroom. “We’ve been together for less than twenty-four hours and you’re already bringing me into your room. How naughty,” Loki jokes and you blush, stopping in your tracks before smacking his chest playfully.

"I can make you sleep on the couch," you tell him with a raised eyebrow and Loki puts his hands up in defense.

"I'll gladly sleep with you, darling."

Taglist: @rebelwith0utacause @poweredbyghostadventures @valentine5sos @deephideoutmilkshake @patchworkstaples

351 notes · View notes

doubleleoenergy · 3 years ago

Text

i. Losers, The Princess and the Pogue Series

Only losers go to school, I taught myself how to move. I'm not the type to count on you, because stupids next to "I love you".

Series Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, possible season 2 spoilers (if you squint), underage drinking, weed smoking, swearing, fistfights, mentions of blood

Summary: It’s the last day before their senior year and The Pogues are throwing a rager at the Boneyard to celebrate. That’s where JJ meets her.

Words: 1817

“JJ, come help me with the keg!” John B shouted, grabbing one end of the keg and waiting for JJ to grab the other side. JJ passed the package of red solo cups to Kiara, strolling up to grab the other side of the keg, gripping it tight and lifting it up over the driftwood that rested in their path.

It was time for one of the Pogues famous keggers at the Boneyard, and the gang was gearing up to celebrate. The first day of their senior year of high school was tomorrow, and they were buzzing with excitement. The fact that the fivesome had even made it that far, alive, was a miracle. Especially with how many days they had missed school over the past three years. But it didn’t matter, none of it mattered, they had made it.

“Yo Pope, get the fire going, the sun’s about to set!” JJ instructed, dropping some sticks in the designated fire pit spot. Their eager and early attendees would be showing up within the hour.

“Kie and I got it.” Pope responded, working with Kiara to get the sticks in the perfect arrangement. They worked on the fire while Sarah started filling solo cups up with beer for each of them, passing them out one-by-one until each had a cup in their hands.

Pope and Kiara had finally sparked the fire, the flames roaring to life, lighting up the Boneyard along with the large lanterns they had set up across the space for extra illumination.

“Alright guys, gather around.” John B commanded, each of the Pogues huddling together in a circle, raising their cups high in the air. Sarah wrapped an arm around John B’s chest, leaning into his side and looking up at him.

“We’ve been through hell and back, Pogues. And somehow the devil hasn’t devoured us yet. To the start of an unforgettable senior year, and to trying to go a few days without almost being murdered.” He moved his cup to the middle of the circle, the others banging their glasses together, droplets of beer spilling into the sand.

“Don’t get soft on us, John B.” JJ teased, chugging the rest of the beer in his cup before tossing it playfully at the man. John B laughed, chasing JJ down the beach to tackle him. The sound of voices in the distance fills the air, the wafting noise of a speaker playing a soulful beat hitting the gang’s ears.

“Yo, John B! JJ! Get your asses over here, it’s party time!” Kiara screamed, waving them over as the first group of people appeared past the tree line.

Hours later and the kegger was in full swing, groups of the working-class derelicts and Kooks talking amongst their kind. Pope and Kiara were chilling at the far end of the beach, Kiara picking up some solo cups that had been dropped in the sand, complaining about how no-one cared about the Earth anymore. John B and Sarah were over with a group of kids from their school, discussing the upcoming year and some of the kids talking about where they planned to go to college.

That left JJ alone, filling up his cup with a third helping of beer for the evening. He had smoked a blunt earlier with a few of his classmates, and he was floating on the perfect high. JJ loved to watch people when he got like this, watching the different groups interact, hyper focusing on the way the flames of the fire flickered, sending smoke into the starry night sky. Damn he loved this place.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard some commotion coming from the right side of the beach near the fire pit, a group of Kooks blocking his view of what was happening.

“Kelce, the girl said to back off.” Topper noted, tugging on the back of the man’s shirt.

“Topper, I’m not doing anything, man. I’m just getting to know the new girl.” He stated, stepping closer to y/n, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Isn’t that right, beautiful?”

Y/N slapped his hand away, squaring her shoulders and standing up straighter, looking up at the man.

“Don’t call me that.” She hissed.

JJ heard the group talking amongst themselves, gathering around the two, and he pushed his way through the crowd of people to take in the situation. That’s when he first laid eyes on her.

Her body was sucked into a black lace bodysuit, the string laced like shoes along her chest. Her light denim cutoffs hung from her hips, the bottoms coming just below her ass. She donned a pair of black Ked sneakers, her outfit casual yet classy. Was she a Kook?

“Why? It’s a compliment. You don’t like compliments?” Kelce questioned, taking a step closer, their faces inches apart. “C’mon, just one dance, Princess.” He placed a hand on her arm, stroking it as she pulled back.

“You’re repulsive.” She spat, turning on her heel to walk away.

“And you’re a miserable bitch.” Before Y/N could turn to respond, JJ had stalked forward, shoving Kelce backwards onto the beach.

“You dirty fucking Pogue!” Kelce fumed, standing back up and shoving JJ back, almost knocking down y/n in the process. The sentence spurred JJ on, throwing punches at Kelce before the other man socked him right in his left eye, having him stumble backwards for a moment.

“Not so tough now, huh JJ? Did your piece of shit dad teach you how to fight too?”

That was the last straw, JJ lurching forward and knocking Kelce to the sand, his fists flying wildly as he punched him once, twice, three times before getting off him. Kelce gasped for breath, spitting out blood onto the sand as Topper got down on the sand next to Kelce, holding his hand out for JJ to stop.

“Cut it out! Kelce, let’s go.” Topper urged, helping the man to his feet before the two disappeared into the crowd, a few Kooks following them.

JJ let out a chuckle, wiping at the fresh cut above his eyebrow that was dripping blood onto his cheek. His eye was killing him, groaning as he held a hand up to cover it, y/n appearing before him on his right side, his only side with vision now.

“Are you alright?” She questioned, knowing he probably wasn’t considering the state his face was in. JJ spit blood into the sand, tilting his head down to look at her. She was at least a foot shorter than him, which wasn’t hard, considering he was 6’0.

“I was actually gonna ask you that.” He retorted, his injured eye twitching beneath his hand.

“M’fine. Let me at least get you some ice for your eye.” Y/N gestured JJ to follow her towards a group of coolers someone had brought, digging inside to grab a few pieces of loose ice. She pulled down the olive-green bandana that she had tied into her hair, unraveling it until she had enough space to put the ice inside, wrapping it up tight before turning back to JJ.

“Sit down.” She instructed, gesturing to the large tree trunk along the ground. JJ didn’t protest, sitting down before y/n plopped down beside him, holding out the makeshift ice pack to him.

“I’ll live, I’ve had worse.” He pointed out, taking the bandana from her hand and placing it upon his swollen eye. Of course, he’d attend his first day of senior year with a black eye. Nothing new in his life.

“I’m just trying to be nice, y’know, for what you did back there.” She noted, staring down at her shoes.

JJ turned his head and shifted his body so he could face her, nursing his injured eye with the bandana. “Kelce is a piece of shit; you’ve caught onto that pretty quickly it seems.” He stuck out his hand to her, his knuckles starting to swell from the punches he’d laid to Kelce’s face. “I’m JJ by the way.”

She grabbed his hand in her own, shaking it up and down, her eyes locked on his. “Y/N.” They kept shaking hands for a moment before y/n finally pulled away, her cheeks heating up from the blush on her face.

“S’nice to meet ya, y/n. Never seen you around town before.” He shifted the ice to his right hand, his left needing to thaw from the cold that the ice produced.

“Just moved back last week, I’ll be starting my senior year at Kildare tomorrow. I lived here until I was three then my mom had us move.”

“Moved to where?” He questioned, relaxing his posture.

“Missoula, Montana.” She picked at a loose string on her shorts, listening to a group of guys behind her egging each other on to chug their drinks.

“Welcome back, I guess.” This clearly wasn’t the greatest welcoming committee for her, but that’s what life was like out here. Before JJ could say anything else, he was interrupted by the sound of John B’s voice calling out for him in the distance. John B walked towards the pair, his hand laced with Sarah’s, stopping a few feet from where they sat on the log. His eyes moved back and forth between the two, a confused expression on his face as he took in the site of JJ.

“Uh, I was just about to ask you if you wanted to get out of here, Sarah’s Uncle Matt will kill me if I don’t get her home by at least midnight, since it’s a school night.” The aftermath of the past few years had Sarah living with her Aunt Linda, her Uncle Matt, her cousin Elizabeth, and her sister Wheezie. JJ had been living with John B for the past year, and the trio had arrived together at the Boneyard in John’s van.

“Yeah man, I’ll be right there.” JJ stood up, offering y/n back her bandana ice pack, but y/n protested.

“You keep it.” She gave him a warm smile, resting her thumb against her lip bottom lip.

“I’ll wash it and give it back.” He announced, backing up in the direction that John B and Sarah had headed. “I’ll see you at school then?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure thing. Thanks again, JJ.”

JJ didn’t respond, instead giving her a one-handed salute before doing a 180 spin towards John B and Sarah. He jogged up after them, flanking John’s right side as they walked towards his van.

“What’s with the shiner?” John B asked.

“And the cut that’s bleeding above your eyebrow.” Sarah added, squeezing John B’s hand in hers.

“Kelce was bothering that new girl. It was an excuse to beat the shit out of that Kook.” He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Whatever you say man, let’s hurry up before Sarah’s Uncle sprays me with the hose for making her late again.”

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf, @bucksmotel, @blackwiddows, @sokovianheadtilt, @astrydis, @moniamaybank, @matbarzalschain

#doubleleoenergyseries: The Princess and the Pogue #series: the princess and the pogue #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #outer banks

91 notes · View notes

shiftynightshade · 3 years ago

Text

“He’s so young. Too young to be in a suit like that.”

Tony glanced at Steve and Natasha’s expressions, faces scrunched up in some mixture of discomfort and anger. It was understandable, really. The kid was on the younger side, though they could not tell much considering under his helmet was a yellow domino mask.

The kid was shifting in his seat, hands cuffed to the metal table in front of him and super-power inhibitor collar clasped around his neck. They had gathered on the other side of the glass, uneasily staring at the child who happened to be decked out in a very high-tech suit. Nat uncrossed her arms to run one hand through her hair. “Why is a kid with superpowers and a suit that advanced doing trapezing around New York?”

Steve shrugged helplessly, eyeing the teen through the glass as if it held all the answers. It kinda did, in a way.

“Fury’s on his way.”

Clint shuffled to stand between Tony and Nat, face drawn with the same discomfort whenever he dealt with kids in bad situations. Steve gave a small huff, setting his shield down and striding through the door into the interrogation room. The kid looked up when Steve entered the room, eyeing him as if he was an unknown variant on a battlefield; an enemy.

Steve settled in the metal chair opposite the kid, leaning forward in his seat to stare directly into his masked eyes. “Hey son, can I get you anything? Water perhaps?” He didn’t respond, opting to stare Steve down. After a small bout of tense silence, he shook his head. “No thanks.”

God this kid was young.

His voice was smoother than expected, but still held the hint of youth to it that Tony often heard from Peter. Tony couldn’t see Steve’s face, but based on Nat’s pinched expression, his was probably similar.

“So, what were you doing running around New York like that?”

The kid smirked. “Like what? Sir.”

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his short hair, clearly caught off guard. “You know,” He waved a hand helplessly in the air. “In armour that very few places make, and I highly doubt someone of your age could afford such equipment.”

The kid mere shrugged with that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “But here we are.” He said carelessly. “Cuffed to a table in the Avengers Tower for no discernible reason, one might say that this was a biased arrest.”

Steve spluttered, leaning back in his seat as if the Hulk had slapped him. “I beg your pardon!?”

“Well, I wasn’t disturbing the peace, I wasn’t attacking anyone. So I don’t see the reason for my detainment.”

“We had determined you as a possible threat because of your super powers and the fact that you were participating in vigilante acts, which is illegal son.”

Tony had expected the kids smirk to slip, for him to collapse into a mess of tears and discomfort, which was definitely overdue. The kid hadn’t even looked at them like they had saved the world, no hero worship, no stumbling in his words. It was like he didn’t care that they were heroes!

The kid hummed. “Well you are right about me being a vigilante.”

Steve leaned forward again. “Son, vigilantism and trying to be a hero is extremely dangerous. This is no world for someone as young and inexperienced as you.” He said gently.

The kid snorted. “Look here Mr. Rogers. I don’t think you lot know this, but I know what I’m doing, believe it or not. Frankly, I’ve been doing this whole business longer than you Avengers have been together as a single team.”

Steve stared for a moment before sighing in defeat. He turned slightly in his seat to look at them with a pleading expression. Tony looked at Bruce and the two SHIELD agents before shrugging and walking over to the door, his suit whirring with every movement. He opened the door and stepped into the bright room, eyes immediately locking onto the kids suit; it was such high quality that Tony wanted to steal it and pick it apart until he knew about ever Knut and bolt within the metal.

Tony put on his suavest voice and sauntered over to stand next to Steve.

“Hey kid, this is what’s gonna happen. You are gonna give us your name, age and we will let you go. How about that?”

Tony expected that that would make the kid cave. Whenever he used that voice, he got whatever he wanted. It would obviously work on a wannabe Avenger. Right?

The kid tilted his head to the side for a moment. “Mmm, you can call me Signal.” He settled on, leaning back in his chair ever so slightly. Tony huffed. This was getting old. “One, you didn’t give us your age and two, I really doubt that your real name is Signal.”

‘Signal’ smiled serenely, smugness rolling off him in waves with an air of superiority that pissed Tony off. “Sorry, no names in the field and I’m turning seventeen in a few months.”

Tony blinked. This kid was sixteen. What the fuck.

Steve threw his hands up. “That’s beside the point! You’re not an adult, so you shouldn’t be running around playing hero!”

Signal scowled, his easy-going expression melting into something colder, more dangerous. “Oh? And what is the definition of hero, Mr Rogers? Someone who does everything they can to protect those who cannot protect themselves? Or someone who only saves the world and doesn’t bother with the daily crime that litters the streets?”

He leaned forward in his seat. “Tell me then, what is your definition of hero? Because last time I checked, which was this morning mind you, the Avengers are very diverse when it comes to their backgrounds.” He tilted his head briefly at Tony. “A former weapons manufacturer who now works to better the earth.”

“Maybe a hero is someone like Natasha Romanoff, a redeemed Black Widow from the Red Room, who joined SHIELD after encountering Clint Barton who was sent to kill her for being a Russian spy, only to instead become friends with her. Is that it? Two assassin’s, one from the Red room and one from the circus?”

Signals voice and gaze didn’t waver once.

Tony and Bruce shared a glance before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him firmly. The lock buzzed. Natasha looked pale, her face was blank and she had rested her weight against the wall with Clint beside her. Tony opened his mouth, only for Banner to open the door and motion them out into the hall. “Fury’s here.”

Tony groaned but followed the doctor anyways. Director Pirate himself was exiting the elevator when they followed Bruce, his dark coat fluttering with every movement. “Who the hell did you capture off the streets?” Was his greeting.

Clint shrugged. “No idea, some kind of vigilante with super-powers. He definitely needs to be in SHIELDS systems though.” At Fury’s questioning look, Clint frowned. “He knows about the Red Room and how I met Nat.”

Fury scowled. “How the fuck would they know that!?”

They all piled back into the room, Signal still perched calmly in his seat, staring right back at them through the glass. Fury frowned and looked the the ‘vigilante’, only for his eye to widen and whirl on the spot to glare at them.

“You captured one of the Bats! Are you lot crazy!?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Bats?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes! The Bats! His name is Signal isn’t it?”

At Steve’s nod, Fury groaned. “Great…. just great. “You lot managed to nab the Bat’s favourite.”

Tony slapped a hand to his forehead, wincing when the metal hit his skin. “Can you please tell us what the hell you’re yabbering on about Fury?”

Fury planted a hand on his hip. “The Bats are Gotham’s protectors. Simply put they’re a clan of vigilante’s that stop crime and deal with corruption. That person right there. Signal?” He pointed to Signal. “Is Gotham’s daytime guardian. You see Bat’s doesn’t like Meta humans in his city, bar Signal. The other work in the shadows, Signal works in the light.”

Fury pursed his lips. “Signal is considered the Bat clan’s guiding light, he’s the cities beacon of hope.”

The sound of metal clinking against metal drew their attention back to Signal, only to see an empty chair and a set of cuffs next to the repression collar. “What the-“

Then there were alarms blaring, Jarvis’s voice nearly swallowed by the noise. “Sir there are three confirmed intruders in the entertainment room, two unknown, one identified as the prisoner.”

That had them flying from the room, into the common area with their weapons at the ready, only for a sharp ninja star shaped like a god-dammed bat fly past and imbed itself in the wall beside them.

“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you.”

Tony stared at the the figure standing in front of them with a gaping expression. He had a full bodysuit of Kevlar equipped and a bo staff pointed threateningly at them. Another on dressed in traffic light colours of all things was standing protectively in front of Signal with a katana in hand.

“H-how the hell did you guys get here? Who are you guys?”

The small kid scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Amateurs.” He muttered. The kid with the staff narrowed his eyes briefly. “I’m Red Robin.” He said curtly.

“We’ll be taking our leave now. Director Fury.” He nodded at Fury. “Please be careful with your heroes, if something like this happens again Batman will not be pleased.” At Fury’s nod, Red Robin slammed a pellet into the ground causing smoke to erupt and fill the room.

They all coughed when they inhaled the smoke, and when it cleared after a few seconds, the three were nowhere, no evidence indicating they existed.

“Soooooo, guess we’re avoiding Gotham now?”

Extra: Damian kicked his legs back and forth and he sipped his milkshake, the familiar smog of Gotham's nightlife sitting heavily in the air. "So," he began. "How'd you end up tangling with the Avengers?"

Duke snorted from beside him. "They saw me use my powers alone and pegged me for an amateur hero." He made a face that made Tim giggle.

Damian scoffed. "Please, you? an amateur? That's like saying my Grandfather doesn't have a school-girl crush on Drake over there." Tim gagged. "Really Robin? Did you have to make me think of that?" Duke laughed. "If we have to live with that fact so do you."

131 notes · View notes

uhgood-dooghu · 4 years ago

Text

Dichotomy [M]

Author uhgood-dooghu

Pairing Underground Fighter!Namjoon x Reader

Summary He doesn’t want this life. But it’s the hand he’s been dealt. He is falling, but you are his safety net.

Genre Smut, angst, fluff, marriage!au, very loosely inspired by the film Southpaw, porn with a splash of plot

Warnings Unprotected marital sex, nipple play, nipple orgasm, oral (male and brief female), consensual possessiveness, Namjoon has tattoos, mentions of violence, lots of love, lots of angst, some cracky fluff if you squint, they’re very in love, they have a kid, they’re dealing with a lot of shit

Word Count 4.1k

a/n Banner by @xjoonchildx who singlehandedly gave me more confidence in my writing in 10 minutes than anyone has given me in like...10 years (so yeah, not to be dramatic but I kind of love you 🙈)

Dichotomy . . Trouvaille . . Redemancy

Cross-posted to AO3

“You still up for me, tiger?”

From his spot reclined against the pillows, Namjoon cocks his head, tired eyes narrowing into a smirk when he finds you leaning against the closet door frame. Sky blue silk hangs loosely off your shoulder, revealing the sheer bodysuit gracing your curves. You quirk an eyebrow and grin as your husband’s darkened eyes roam your body and linger on the deep v between your breasts, cream tulle contoured seamlessly to your hardened nipples. With a lick of his lips, he folds his arms behind his head.

“I don’t know, baby. Why don’t you come find out?”

His smirk never wavers as you push off the frame and saunter towards him, a quick shrug pooling your robe around your elbows.

You pause at the edge of the bed to admire the sight of him laid out in nothing but his ink and black boxer-briefs. Unable to resist, your eyes wander, tracing the swell of his biceps, the cut of his chest, the sharp lines of his hips, before you drop your robe to the floor. Namjoon’s lips nearly twitch into a snarl when you throw a leg over his lap, sitting back on his taut thighs with a sigh.

Your hands run over his chiseled torso to feel the uneven flesh beneath your fingertips. Years of training, of fights both won and lost, of facing opponents with a lust for blood, have hardened him, left a mosaic of scars in their wake to mark and maim the bronze canvas. He hides them behind a mural of art. Blots out the ever-present reminders of the choices he’s made in a storm of black and grey.

He is ashamed.

But to you, he is beautiful.

His hands find your thighs, the cool metal of his wedding band digging into your skin as you bend and press your lips to a line of raised flesh blanketed by the curves of a whale below his collarbone. You kiss the length of the scar, his body a map you’ve long since memorized. When you flick over his nipples, he hums, and you trail the column of his throat with your nose before nipping the underside of his jaw.

He is tense beneath your lips, but he always is, carrying his burdens on broken bones.

Cupping his face, you capture his lips with yours, tongues falling into a seamless dance as his hands begin to wander. They slip to your ass, palming the flesh, and you break away with a hum as he rocks you against his semi-hard cock.

“You feeling ok?” Your eyes lock on the deep cut slowly healing on his brow bone. A parting gift from his most recent opponent.

The sight isn’t foreign, but you always ask.

Leaning in, he drags his lips over your pulse. “Never better.”

With a click of your tongue, you tug him back and frown. He grunts in displeasure, but allows you to thumb over the faded bruise on his cheekbone and the fresh scar on his lip, his eyes following yours as they take in his slightly crooked nose and sunken dark circles.

He’s not ok, a fact you both know. He hasn’t slept much since his last match, a brutal victory against a vengeful competitor. That night, you had nursed his wounds with steady hands, whispered words of reassurance into his ear, stripped his emotions bare until he was sobbing into your chest.

He’s not a monster. He’s not evil. He’s just surviving. But barely. And that’s why you always ask.

“I’ll be alright, baby,” he mutters, gripping your wrist and gently pulling it from his face. He laces your fingers together and kisses the back of your hand softly. “Don’t worry about me.”

Your lips twist into a thin smile. “I always worry about you.”

For a moment, his eyes flood with sadness.

They flood with his hatred of the underground. His weariness of breaking himself and others to provide for you and your son sleeping soundly in the next room. His ache to do something–anything–else that will put an end to the dead-eyed reflection he sees in the mirror.

But the underground is lawless, and you know he doesn’t have a choice. Debts, loyalties, threats… all cruel dictators of the life Namjoon’s been forced to lead. And lead it he will, as long as you are living and breathing beside him. As long as you are there to rebuild him when he crumbles.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, and you shake your head, smoothing out the lines between his eyebrows.

“No,” you murmur, fingertips tracing his face. “It’s just my job as your wife.”

A wry smile twists on his lips, one you quickly seek to remove with several soft pecks to the flesh.

“And as your wife,” you muse between kisses, voice turning playful, “I wanna see what damage you can do.”

His smirk returns with full force, and he resumes his exploration of your ass. “Oh yeah?”

Arms looping over his shoulders, you catch your tongue between your teeth. “Mhmm, think you can handle me, big guy?”

“What, you think I can’t go a couple rounds with you?”

With a matching smirk, you lean forward, rocking against his growing erection as you slant your lips to his.

“I think you can try,” you breathe.

He growls deep in his throat before reaching up and threading his fingers in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your neck. Your gasp melts into a moan as he marks his way across your skin, flesh turning crimson in his wake. When he closes his lips over your most sensitive spot, just below your pulse, you shudder.

In your years with Namjoon, you’ve discovered the bridging dichotomy between the fighter and the man you love. It’s in the way he claims you, paints you into a galaxy with his teeth and lips, etches his signature into your skin, as if bruising you with his love will erase the bruises he’s left in the ring.

You wear each one proudly, a constant reminder of the choice you made to call him yours.

“Joon,” you gasp, eyelids fluttering.

“Yeah, baby?” He nibbles at your collarbone before laving it with his tongue.

You don’t reply, instead shifting so your barely covered clit presses directly onto his cock, thick and defined beneath soft fabric. A small rut of your hips sparks an inferno in your veins, vocalized through a quivering whimper. His chuckles melt into groans as you grind against him, and he ducks to pull a nipple between his lips.

The sensation shudders through your bones, arousal flooding your cunt when he swirls his tongue over your bud through the barely-there fabric. A moment later, he has your bodysuit pooled at your waist and pauses to hiss a curse at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers, chest heaving slightly, before diving back in.

“Baby.” You are clutching the nape of his neck, shivering helplessly as he traces the pebbled skin in relentless circles, teeth coming out to tug and release over and over until your head spins. A hand leaves your ass, and you feel his fingers pinching and twisting, palm cupping your breast with a tantalizing pressure.

He works you up, teases you breathless, pools the slickness soaking your body suit with each passing minute, and the pleasure is relentless. A constant vibration pulsing between your legs, through your fingers, down to your toes, rendering you a shuddering, whimpering mess in arms that flex to hold you upright.

Through the delirium, you realize he will have you falling apart just like this.

He confirms this when he purses his lips over your swollen bud, sucking with the right amount of force to have you riding that edge with a wanton moan. The sensation crescendos as he switches rapidly between your nipples, kissing and nibbling until it becomes too much, too fast, and you writhe above him.

“Oh fuck! Namjoon, I–oh shit shit shit, I’m gonna come,” you wail, and he growls against your chest.

Stomach clenching, hips rocking, hands vice-like around his bulging biceps, you surrender to your climax, babbling incoherently as it shudders through your body in pulsing waves.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you whimper, aftershocks drumming up your bones, leaving you winded and feverish.

Namjoon pulls away with a triumphant grin, eyes locked on where your thighs meet. “You made a mess, baby,” he purrs, and you follow his gaze to see your arousal has leaked through the fabric of your bodysuit and hopelessly stained the outline of his cock.

Another whimper leaves you as he growls, “I fucking love your tits,” punctuating the statement with a kiss to each nipple.

Still panting, you reach down and snap the waistband of his Calvins. “Off. Now.”

Ignoring the amusement in his eye, you rise to your knees so he can slide them off, not even bothering to hide the needy breath that slips out when his cock springs free, slapping heavily against his stomach.

As soon as his underwear hits the floor, you shift between his legs to press wet kisses around his navel.

On nights after a winning match, Namjoon often takes his adrenaline home, releasing it in a tight grip of your hair and deep thrusts down your throat. After a loss, he lets you take the lead, drowning in the warmth of your tongue, cunt, whatever you want to give him, as long as he can cum.

But on nights like tonight, between matches, in the wake of training, he likes to be teased. Likes you to drag out his pleasure, because it reminds him he is still alive. Still capable of feeling something good. Still worthy of something good, even with a line of broken bodies trailing his own battered soul.

He’s told you as much in hushed words breathed into the darkness of your bedroom when he cannot sleep.

And, god, do you want to remind him he is worthy.

Your tongue dips into the curves of his abs, hands caressing the tops of his thighs as you trace over the v of his hips. He brushes your hair back and you catch his eye, heart blooming at the unfiltered desire pouring from his parted lips in bated breaths.

You don’t look away as you explore him with your mouth, nibbling a mark into his hipbone. His gaze is heavy, searing straight to your core, as you wrap your hand around him, swiping his precum off the tip with your thumb. It smears down his cock with each drawn out pump of your fist, and he grunts when you lick a slow stripe up the prominent vein framing the underside.

“Y/n…” His voice strains in his throat, fingers threading firmly in your hair, but you refuse to take him fully, instead running your tongue over every inch of his length, kissing from the base to the tip before sucking firmly on the head.

Swirling over the sensitive flesh, you dip lower, only to pull back immediately, teasing him with the warmth you know he craves but refuses to take. He needs the chase, and you’re all too willing to provide.

When you finally grant him a brief thrust into your throat, he moans with a buck of his hips, stuttering out pleas and words of praise, his fingers shaky against your cheek.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he pants, leg jerking when you swirl your tongue around his balls, drawing one into your mouth.

You drink in the way his chest rises and falls, flush visible even under his tan and tattoos, nipples pebbled, abs flexing with each labored breath. You love when he loses himself. When he allows the world to fade to black, until all he can feel, see, and breathe is you.

When he lets you in to gather the pieces of himself he’s chipped away.

You smile when he whimpers, thighs quivering around your shoulders, and pull back.

“What?” He groans, bumping his head against the headboard as you thumb over his slit.

With a kiss to his pelvis, you sigh. “You sound so pretty when you’re needy.”

Gently twisting your hair into a ponytail, he guides you up and drags your lower lip through his teeth. “I’m always needy for you.”

A contented hum fills the space between you as he moves you back into his lap. “I like that.” Hand still wrapped loosely around his cock, you give him another agonizingly slow stroke.

“Mmm, I know you do.” Namjoon palms over your ass and thighs, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your bodysuit. “Get naked, please?”

You tilt your head back, neck going limp as you slump forward and kiss his lips. “Mkay.”

Dropping his cock against his abs, you rise to stand over him on the mattress and spin around under his dark gaze. He gets a front row seat to the wetness stringing from your nether-lips, glistening as it is revealed in the muted lamp lighting. His groan makes you giggle, and you have barely stepped out of the bodysuit before he shifts.

You feel his tongue latch onto your cunt with a delayed jolt of pleasure, nearly falling forward as you gasp. His strong arms hold you still, lips descending to close around your clit, suckling the bud, and your knees tremble.

“J-j-joon, w-what–” you stutter, breaking off with a whine and a strained rock of your hips.

His grunt is muffled against your wetness, tongue dipping into your entrance. “Can’t help myself.” He slurps obscenely, and you blush with an involuntary clench. The motion sends another drop of arousal onto Namjoon’s tongue, and he moans, lapping it up, but you need more.

“Joon,” you beg and tap urgently at his hands. “Namjoon, baby. Fuck me. Please, I need you to fuck me.”

Your wanton plea sees you twirled around and jerked roughly over his cock. He presses the tip between your folds to tease your entrance and drag over your slippery clit in tight circles.

“How do you want it,” he whispers.

Gripping his shoulders, you gasp when he dips an inch into your cunt. “Like this,” you breathe, desperate to trap him in your warmth.

The stretch is sinful, delicious and wet, your soft walls squeezing and fluttering around him as he lowers you onto his cock. When you press your ass to his thighs, he groans, head falling back, and you snag the opportunity to kiss at his Adam’s Apple, enjoying the vibrations of his voice beneath your lips.

“Shit, y/n, you’ll be the death of me.”

You exhale a breathy laugh and rock back only to snap forward, much to his enjoyment.

“Better me than anyone else.”

You let him take the lead, let him drag you up by your hips until he nearly slips out, then slam you back down, beginning a damning rhythm that shocks your spine with pleasure. The mattress squeaks softly beneath your knees, the air between your bodies steamy and thick. Only the knowledge of two sets of doors and your son’s deep slumber allows you to vocalize your need for your husband with reckless abandon.

“Oh, right there, Joon, right there,” you whine, when he adjusts the angle to pound directly up into your most sensitive bundle of nerves. His blunt head kisses your cervix with each drop.

“Yeah? That feel good?” He growls, running his lips over the column of your throat, and you whimper an affirmative.

“S-so so good, mmmm.” Sinking onto his pelvis, you circle your hips, grinding out a fresh wave of arousal that soaks the base of his cock with an arch to your back. Your cunt clenches around him, and his fingers tighten over your thighs, face buried in your neck.

“F-uck,” he heaves, “you’re unbelievable.” Beads of sweat trail his temples, and he pulls back to lock eyes with you, chocolate irises heavy with something deeper than lust.

“I don’t deserve you.”

His words send a sharp pang to your heart, bringing you to a halt.

You let the pleasure in your veins simmer to a dull throb as you steady your pulse, shaking your head with a determined glint in your gaze. Encased fully in your cunt, his cock throbs against your walls, and you quiver at the sensation.

Wrapping an arm his shoulders, you press your palm over his racing heart, feeling it skip a beat when you squeeze around him.

“You feel that,” you ask, breathless, clenching again, and he moans brokenly. “You fill me up so well, baby. So perfectly. I was made for you.”

You drag yourself up and down, grinding your clit against the dark hairs on his pelvis. Your own breath hitches, forehead falling against his, chasing the twinges of pleasure with tiny ruts of your hips.

“You deserve me, Namjoon. You deserve the whole world.”

His eyes flutter shut, jaw clenching, and you know he doesn’t believe you. But you’ll keep telling him every day, every minute, until he does.

For now, though, you cup his face and draw him in, kissing him with as much love and devotion as you can pour into his lungs.

“I love you.” Another press of your lips. “I need you.” A breathless tangle of tongues. “Make me come. Please.”

You barely register the change in position before he is hovering above you, hooking your legs over his shoulders and entering you again with a single, powerful thrust.

“Oh–“ You nearly choke, gripping his wrist where his fingers wrap around your calf. “Oh fuck.”

He reaches deep within you, filling a gap in your heart that aches without him. As his cock drags against your most sensitive spots, tears pool in your eyes from the pleasure, but it’s the knowledge that only he can unravel you, break you apart and piece you back together–just as you do for him–that has you gasping out his name.

He was made for you.

“I love you so fucking much,” he growls, groping your breast. “You’re fucking perfect.” His voice shakes with exertion, fierce eyes boring into your glazed ones, possessive and utterly consumed with you.

“Mine.”

Your eyes roll back, and you nod helplessly, the pressure reaching a peak as you beg him to take you. Moans escalating, your fingers grapple for purchase, clawing at his biceps, his shoulders, anything you can reach. Your head rocks back and forth against the pillow as you ride along the precipice of ecstasy, tears spilling as you chase after the final push.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you cry, and he grunts, rearing back to slip his hand between your bodies.

The presence of his thumb on your clit sends you careening into your orgasm, cunt pulsing around him wildly, your entire body vibrating, writhing under his weight as you sob out for him, barely registering the groans of praise he showers over you.

It seems to go for an eternity, wave after wave rolling through you, leaving you heavy-limbed and dizzy, a buzz settling in your eardrums.

A moment passes, and through your daze, you hear his voice, low and heavy, against your lips.

“I’m not finished with you, baby.”

You’ve barely caught your breath before he is flipping you over, manhandling your limp form with an ease that sends a leftover wash of warmth through you. Falling against the sheets, you stretch your arms over your head and let gravity arch your back.

He presses into the base of your spine, smoothing soft circles into your skin, before asking, “You good?”

You flinch when he grazes his cock over your folds, still sensitive and swollen, but nod, ready and willing. “Take what you want, baby.” Finding his hand, you intertwine your fingers. “I’m yours.”

It’s hard to think after that.

The slapping of skin on skin mingled with breathy whimpers and throaty groans grounds you as you surrender to Namjoon’s hold, bending to his strength. He chases his high with an iron grip on your thighs, ensuring a mosaic of bruises for the morning, and you know he won’t last much longer.

“Gonna come,” he grits out, hauling your ass higher, readjusting to slam you back onto his cock. “Fuck. You ready for me?”

“Mmmm, yeah, fill me up,” you moan, voice pitching as you cling to the sheets, reveling in the oversensitivity.

His hand leaves your hip to travel up your spine, weaving and fisting through your locks, pushing your face further into the mattress as his body bows over you, hips losing their rhythm. His breaths are ragged, grunts deep and feral in your ear, and you reach back to clutch at his thigh.

“Come for me, baby,” you pant, swirling your hips as he grinds into you, and then he is releasing with a choked groan, his warmth flooding you so deliciously that you sigh softly.

Chests rising and falling in tandem, you hold each other as the lust settles into a thrum of contentment.

“You think Wooyoung woke up?” The question is a whisper against your skin.

“No,” you huff, eyes closed heavily. “You can’t wake him up with the fire alarm.”

Namjoon’s laugh vibrates against your spine, and you smile. You feel his fingers detangle from you hair, and a kiss is pressed into the space between your shoulder blades as he slips his softening cock out, allowing you to roll to the side and stretch your legs. A drop of his cum trails the inside of your thigh, and you nudge his leg with your foot.

“Clean me up,” you chide.

He chuckles on his way to the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth that he runs over your body, rough hands a stark contrast to the gentleness of his touch. When he’s done, he passes it to you, letting you pull him in for a kiss.

“Thanks, baby.” The cloth finds the hamper as you go to pee, and stepping back into the bedroom, you find Namjoon already dozing off beneath the covers, one arm hooked behind his head.

You pause by the bedside with a smirk. “Wore you out, did I?”

He smiles, eyes still closed, and you climb in next to him, pecking his dimple before nuzzling into his side. His free arm wraps around you tightly, as you rest your cheek on his chest. “You’re my strongest opponent,” he mutters into your hair, making you laugh.

You settle into silence, but your fingers think for themselves, absentmindedly tracing over the intricately detailed moon inked across his ribs. Textured scar flesh hidden beneath swirls of black and grey bring back memories of cage fights you no longer attend, of nights spent beside dingy hospital beds yelling at your husband for pushing too far, of each and every time your son has run into your arms, crying and asking why his daddy looks like that.

It boils your blood to know there’s nothing you can do. You are powerless, unable to protect Namjoon from the world that claims him, unable to protect your son from the reality that ages him beyond his five years. Unable to protect yourself from the fear that, one day, Namjoon might not come home.

He feels you tense and drums his fingertips over your waist. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” A beat of silence passes, and Namjoon’s thumb presses into your hipbone with a little more force. “…just…“ Rising on your elbow, you reach up to brush over the cut above his eye. “…wishing some things were different.”

He remains expressionless, but you can see through the mask. Can see the guilt, frustration, and anger accumulated behind a fragile wall of self-preservation. Years of relentless searching allowed you to find the fracture, poking and prodding until it shattered for only your eyes to see. In its wake you found him broken and alone, consumed by the self-hatred and shame suffocating him at every turn.

You pulled him out of the rubble, gave him a light to follow, a reason to fight his way out of the ring. You stood by him, gave him everything he never thought he deserved, gathered the pieces of his soul he ripped away himself. You stitched him back together, wove your love into the seams, made him smile for the first time since his long lost childhood.

You found the boy beneath the man, and you want to give him the world.

You wish some things were different. But not him.

“Do you regret it? Marrying me?”

He knows the answer, and you know why he asks.

You saved me from myself.

“Never.”

770 notes · View notes

river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years ago

Text

The Nightwing Suit

There are some absolutely incredible artists out here on tumblr, and seeing their fanart makes me cry tears of joy. Dick Grayson, one of my personal favs, is always a wonderful contender for fanart. His innate grace and agility and flexibility translate beautifully on the artistic spectrum. Bottom line: I love all the Nightwing fanart. However, there is something I want to address with his suit. I’ve been an aerialist ever since I was 7 years old, and I’ve taken gymnastics since I was 3. Now, I specialize in Lyra, while Dick obviously specializes in Trapeze, but when it comes to costume, we’ve got many very important similarities.

DON’TS

When it comes to aerial, we want as much mobility and flexibility as possible. So here are some things that absolutely will not be on his suit.

1. Shoulder Pads. I will scream it from the rooftops if I have to. The Nightwing suit WILL NOT have shoulder pads!! Red Hood? Definitely. Red Robin? Those shoulder pads are important for bo staff strength and support. Robin? Damian probably doesn’t need them, but they won’t hurt. Nightwing? No way. To me, one of the most important parts of my body when practicing and performing are my shoulders. They pull me into hangs and holds, let me rotate myself around, and basically support the rest of my body. This is partially due to user preference: I prefer arm-based stunts and hangs rather than leg based. But it honestly doesn’t matter that much. Nightwing will absolutely need 100% use of his shoulders. Him being able to freely rotate them can be the difference between life and death with his style of fighting. Shoulder pads will just hamper that flexibility. I will admit that shoulder pads look badass, but in this one hero’s scenario? Shouldr pads are a no-go.

2. Sleek Arm Braces. Nightwing, while being well recognized as a solo hero, does often work with a team. And on a team, he isn’t the type to huff angrily and say he can do this by himself. Emotionally? Yes, of course. Physically, and in a fight? He takes all the help he can get, with absolutely no would to his pride. When performing his flips and tricks and such, the other partner will grab hold of him by usually his hands or his arms. I’m just going to straight up say: catching someone by their hands is a Bad Idea. You will not believe the speed we travel when we go through the air, and catching by the hands will lead to dislocations and pain. For a few stunts it’s okay, mainly for the visual aspect of a performance. But when it’s life and death combat? Hands are a last ditch effort if you can’t catch someone by the arms. Because that’s what really counts. The forearms. When Dick is fighting with someone, and that other person has the strength to catch him/throw him from a drop or a flip, they will catch him by the forearms. If Dick’s wearing sleek ‘n sexy arm braces, he’s going to slip right out of their grip. I prefer to keep my forearms bare, but in regards to protective armor, the fabric around the arms better have a grip.

3. Extra Fabric. This one is a given. However, I want to get into the specifics. When you’re in the air, momentum is your most powerful ally, and if there’s anything opposing or hindering that momentum, that spells trouble. Extra fabric can sometimes be good, such as around the legs. Not too much, obviously, but wearing loose or baggy pants while fighting with Nightwing’s fighting style works (as long as you can, you know, actually fight in them and not trip over the extra cloth). Around the middle? Nuh-uh, nope. Anything looping around your waist, hips, or rib cage is a liability if it’s not skin tight. The belt that Robin often wears is okay, as long as it’s wrapped pretty tight around him and doesn’t move. For the kind of stunts that Dick pulls off on a daily basis? I don’t think anything but a skintight bodysuit will help. For arms, extra fabric is ~okay~ but not preferable. And anything strapped to his back, as long as it’s securely in place, will actually help his momentum (so his escrima sticks or any other weapon/item you want to put in there is fine). Nothing around the neck, at ALL. That one issue in Batman where Dick wears a scarf is hot as hell, and sort of makes sense because they’re in the desert. But on missions, at the speed Nightwing fights and flies through the air, anything around his neck will choke him. This entire section definitely wasn’t an excuse to say you should just keep Dick in a skintight outfit, nope, not at all.

4. Spandex. While we’re on the subject of skintight outfits, I just want to point something out that isn’t necessarily important or anything. It’s just a general preference for me. I prefer costumes with a little weight on them. The adrenaline rush is intense for some of my more advanced stunts, and those are things that I bet Dick would consider basic. I prefer something with a little substance/weight/texture to it. Nothing too serious, and nothing too restricting, just something to keep me grounded and focused. We all know how much Dick likes being in the air, but I’m willing to bet he also needs a little extra touch to keep his head in the game. So if you’re designing a serious Nightwing suit, not for crack or fun headcanons or anything, I would steer clear from the spandex, gauze, and showy-light-gossamer fabrics. They do provide extra mobility and flexibility, but that’s because they’re one drop away from naked.

5. Joints. Okay this may seem a little contradictory based on the last point, but around the joints, especially hips and shoulders, the protective padding needs to ease up. It’s one of the hardest areas on the body to injure, after all, even for a professional. And second, I know I’m sounding like I’m repeating the obvious, but flexibility is of utmost importance. If the fabric doesn’t bend with Nightwing, then there’s no point. It can’t chafe, it can’t grind against itself, it can’t break. The material around major joints needs to be malleable.

Dos

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s talk about what you can absolutely add to Nightwing’s costume to give it either a little pizzazz, or just your own personal touch.

1. Boots. Yes yes yes, boots are an absolute must! And it’s not just me thinking thigh-high boots are cool. Coming out of a big drop and other major stunts requires rolling on your back and then onto your feet. But Nightwing doesn’t fight with the one-hit-and-done style. (That’s more Jason’s thing. He plants himself like a tree and puts power behind a punch, kinda like Bruce, which is why boots-especially boot soles- are important for them.) Nightwing gets in a punch and flips away, then bounces back and gets in a kick and flips away, then bounces back and gets in another kick and flips away. You see where I’m going with this. Dick is constantly on the move, constantly on the verge of flipping back. The main way he does this is with his feet: landing lightly on the balls of his feet to absorb momentum before using that to hit back. Boots with fricion-specific soles are important, he cannot slide or skid. Also, ones that go higher up aren’t bad either: extra support is always welcome. As long as they don’t cover his knees and allow for ankle flexibility, they’re good to go. They may even help stop ankle dislocation. Anything you want to add to the boots? Go ahead. As long as it’s not gauzy ribbon or something too extra, or something that can easily get caught in something else, it’s good to go. In my performances, I like to cover my shins with something, it can range from simple high socks or performance boots to go with my costume. I particularly like Damian’s long lace up boots, especially in Super Sons. It’s a cute outfit, and it won’t hinder his fighting at all. As long as Dick double knots, he can wear those, and any other variants of boots.

2. Gloves. I’m not actually sure if Dick has ever been called “Fingerstripes” in canon, but I’ve seen it in fanon plenty of times. Regardless, it’s one of my favorite nicknames for him, and it does have a basis. The stripes on his gloves are an awesome artistic choice, and useful too. Assuming they have a different texture than the rest of his gloves, those fingerstripes could help with grip. Grip is one of the most important tools an aerialist can have. I have had grown men look at me with shock when they shake my hand because of my firm grip (and the calluses, ugh). I firmly believe that Dick Grayson has one of the strongest grips in the DC non-meta world, and I bet you he surpasses even a good amount of metas. Having a good, no-slip grip is essential, even if you’re just swinging from the surface for a second, or if the surface is another partner’s hand. Gloves, once again as long as they’re not too restricting, would be awesome with helping with that.

3. Wrist Braces. I said before that Dick can’t have arm braces because of the whole partner-grip thing. But with the amount of force and pressure Dick exerts on his hands on a daily basis, dislocations and sprains should be as common as a bruise. Hell, I’m sitting here typing this and my left wrist is sprained. Fanfic writers, here’s a helpful tip: you can write Dick with a sprained or dislocated or just a plain sore wrist anytime at all, and having him rub his hands with a grimace, rubbing lotion onto them, or doing wrist exercises in his free time is a go-to for if you need anything filler. Or, you know, it could even be part of the plot. Wrist braces help with this, they keep the joints in place and add a little extra stability to his movements. As long as they’re not interfering with wrist mobility, wrist braces are a very very good idea. When you think how long, think about the length of Peter Parker’s handmade web shooters. Long enough to be there, but not immediately noticeable. Also, make sure the material is something cloth, wrap, or gauze based. Anything too hard could scrape against the skin, cause cuts and bruises, and even cut off circulation. Unless it’s armor, it’s not comfortable or easy to do aerial maneuvers with.

4. Back Harness. To be honest, I have no idea what the official name for this piece of equipment even is. But the thing that holds Nightwing’s escrima sticks to his back. The thing that holds Deadpool’s katanas (in the movies, not the comics). The back-strap-harness thingy. That’s a go-for-it when it comes to costumes. Not only does it look badass and hot when it’s on your costume and you draw your weapons from it seamlessly like a boss, it’s practical and doesn’t interfere with your fighting at all. As I said, a majority of Nightwing’s moves rely on momentum. The back harness thingy won’t harm that at all. As long as it’s strapped to your back, unmoving and steady, it stays out of the way and may actually help you with your momentum. Drawing weapons from it is easy and seamless, and one of the quickest moves you can perfect, aside from drawing your weapon from thigh/calf holsters. But as I said before, Dick would probably stick to the back because, once again, momentum.

Okay this got much longer than I thought it would. But regardless, I hope this helps if you’re ever drawing or writing about the Nightwing suit and need specifics. Or hell, if you’re a cosplayer and need some information on how to make an accurate costume, here you go. Now I need to take a breather and chill, because while I considered myself a pretty recreational comic reader and not much of an analyzer, I had no idea how much I picked up about Dick’s individual fighting style and how that fits in with my own aerial experiences.

#i have no idea what to tag this #suit analysis???#superhero costume dos and dont's??#nightwing #dick grayson #meta #dc #nightwing meta #dick grayson meta #dc meta #nightwing suit #river thinks too hard

1K notes · View notes

seiyasabi · 4 years ago

Text

Ugly Bastard

(This is a Yandere Milluki Zoldyck x Rabbit Female Darling :))

I’m really sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted, but this is my interpretation of his character, and my interpretation is that he’s considered the ugly bastard and a neckbeard :/ I hope you enjoy this.

TW: Aged up!!, Forced heat!, !technically noncon!, !dubcon!, He’s rlly gross!, daddy kink!, objectification!!, breeding kink!, typical neckbeard behaviour, mate literally doesn’t wash himself (I’m so sorry) or clean his room!, he fucks you while you hold a comfort object, etc..

I don’t normally say this, but please, please proceed with caution! This got really dark and disgusting :/)

Giggling to himself, the short haired man holds a glass vial up to the light, the amber liquid inside sloshing violently. A grotesque smile paints his chubby face, thick fingers holding it so tightly that his knuckles are turning white, “Thank you, Illu-nii! She surely can’t resist me now!”

The oldest Zoldyck looks down at his younger brother with disgust, wondering how exactly he became this way, “Of course… But, if she was giving you so much trouble, why not take her-?”

Milluki shakes his head, holding the vial close to his breast, “No! I can’t do that, are you crazy?” Illumi raises a perfectly shaped brow, unimpressed by his grease ball of a brother, “I’m not the ugly bastard in this story! I’m her handsome prince-”

Illumi tunes him out, rolling his eyes. Of course his brother doesn’t have morals, he just wants you to bow to his every whim.

Although the eldest brother couldn’t critique the younger too much, he still couldn’t shake the overwhelming repugnance he feels towards him.

He’s seen the room you’re trapped in, seen the harsh way Milluki tugs on your ears and tail, seen the- he shivers at the memory of the short haired man forcing you to feed him. The excessive way he chews with his mouth open, trying to get a reaction out of you, makes the tall man’s blood boil. He has no idea how you’re able to keep calm, but he can applaud you for it.

“-So this is my last resort! Thanks to you, Illu-nii, we can now continue to Zoldyck like!” Illumi can’t help but shiver in disgust at the idea of Milluki reproducing.

“Yes, yes, of course. You go do that,” With quick feet, the slim man hurries away, hoping to escape this conversation as quickly as possible.

Glancing at the vial in his hand, Milluki squeals in delight, a gross smile on his greasy face.

Tonight is going to be a night to remember.

Hearing the door open, you immediately look up from your clean spot on the bed. In your arms you hold your stuffed rabbit, cradling it to your black bodysuit clad breast.

Seeing your captor waddling into the room, you jump to your feet to greet him. Putting on a fake happy smile, lifting your ears, and shaking your tail, you start to gush over him, “Daddy, welcome back! I’m so happy to see you!” You hop over empty Mountain Dew Liters filled with piss, wrappers of empty food containers, broken games that disappointed Milluki, and his dirty clothes. You try to clean up, you really do, but Milluki is one of the sloppiest people to ever live.

His ugly face grins at your beautiful form, your pretty face, and cute voice, “What a good bunny, coming to greet her Daddy!” He opens his arms for a hug, making you breathe through your mouth. Landing on his large stomach, you lay your head against his breast, trying your best to block out his grease, musk, and food stains.

This bastard fills you with so much disgust and anger. He tells you that you need to lose weight, dress up pretty, put on a lot of makeup, keep clean, and be well shaven. Yet, here he is, looking like a goddamn catastrophe.

“I missed you so much! Me and Hoppy,” You raise their stuffed animal, “Were waiting for you all day!”

He rubs a sweaty hand over your exposed shoulders, “You’re so cute, Bun. Daddy has a special present for you today,” He uses the hand that once rubbed your shoulders to reach into his pocket, withdrawing a certain amber filled vial, “Be a good girl, and drink this all. You’ll do that for me, right?”

You pull away from him to look at what he’s offering, feeling dread weigh down on your heart, “What is it, Daddy?”

He tuts condescendingly at your question, releasing you from the awkward side hug you were in. His thumb and forefinger grip your chin, a suddenly serious look on his face. Fuck, you forgot that rule, “Bun, you know how Daddy feels when you question him! Good girls don’t question their Daddies, we always know what’s best for them.”

You want to scream ‘no’ at him, but unfortunately, you’d rather not receive a brutal punishment tonight. Nodding your head, you smile up at him, “Okay! I’m sorry for questioning you, Daddy.”

He squeezes your tail, before grabbing your hand, and forcefully placing the vial into it, “Good, Bun Bun! Now, drink this!”

Rolling the warm glass in your hand, you scrunch your nose slightly at the weird smell of the contents inside. But, feeling his warning glare on your figure, you quickly uncap it, and throw it back like a shot.

It tastes horrible!

You can’t help but gag at its vomit esque taste. Covering your mouth with a hand, you stare down at the vial in both shock and disgust. Luckily, you’re able to choke it down, but you’re only barely able to.

“Good Bunny, I’m proud of you,” He runs a moist hand through your hair, making your stomach lurch.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Milluki drags you to his bed, disregarding the trash you have to step on with your bare feet. Once at the bed, he tries to push you onto his side. You don’t allow yourself to fall forward, instead opting for your designated sliver of the bed. No matter what you try, no matter how many times you change your sheets, Milluki’s side always ends up absolutely filthy! His grease, food stains and…… unspecified stains discolour any colour of sheets, even black ones! So, you only stay on your side, trying not to get a skin infection.

He makes a noise of disapproval behind you, but quickly flops down on his side, his arms squeezing your middle tightly. His right hand lays over your tummy, squeezing slightly. Thinking that he was going to critique your looks, you whimper slightly, “I’m sorry, Daddy, am I gaining weight? I can go on another diet-“

“No! No! You’re doing great, Bun! If anything, I think you’ll need to be a little bigger…” He trails off, increasing your nerves. Is that why you’re sweating? It’s suddenly very hot in here.

“Daddy, is the heater on?” You lay your free hand on your forehead, the other gripping Hoppy in an ironclad grip. Are you getting sick? That could be a problem. Your diet since getting here has changed drastically, along with your sleeping pattern, cleanliness or your environment, and your stress level. Hopefully he’ll cast you into a separate room, leaving you to your own devices.

“No, why?” He removed your hand from your forehead, and replaced it with his own. Is this supposed to happen? He isn’t too sure how heats are supposed to happen.

“I-I think I’m getting sick, Daddy. Should I go take a cold bath?”

“No! I mean, uhm, no, that won’t be necessary. Just stay right here,” He tightens his hold even more, you can feel your ribs creak underneath his fingertips.

You say nothing, starting to curl into yourself at the feeling of cramps in your abdomen. Could you be starting your period?

“I think I started my period,” You don’t see him look at you in disgust, but you can feel it.

“Then get up, I don’t want you dirtying the sheets,” You had to stop yourself from laughing. You? Dirtying the sheets? Says the man who has turned them rancid! You set your bunny stuffie on your clean pillow, trying to keep it away from any dirt.

Hurrying to your feet, you move quickly towards the bathroom. Once inside, you flick on the light, showing its pristine condition. He almost never comes in here, leaving it clean.

Unzipping your outfit, you pull your tail out of its hold, and shuck it down your legs. Once bare to the room, you open the toilet seat lid, and sit.

Once done with your business, you wipe, expecting something to be different, but not what you see. The piece of toilet paper is absolutely drenched, and not in what you think.

You slick is practically drenching your entire hand, scaring the shit out of you. What on Earth is happening to you?! And why did the feeling of your wiping feel so good?!

Grabbing baby wipes, you wipe down your pussy and ass, cleaning yourself up as much as possible. You stand up on shaky legs, closing the lid, flushing the toilet, washing your hands, but the pain becomes too much. Tears bead your eyes as your fear and pain take over, causing you to curl into a ball on the marble floor.

A burning feeling of arousal pools in your belly, making the urge to touch yourself grow exponentially. What the hell did Milluki give you? And aphrodisiac? You’ve never had a heat in your life!

Milluki knocks on the door after a long period of silence, the only thing he hears is your crying, “What’s wrong, Bunny? Is everything alright in there?”

You whimper in response, prompting him to open the door. The sight of your naked body made him do a double take. And, upon seeing a growing puddle of arousal around your hips, he can’t help but salivate.

“Is my little one in heat? How precious! Cute little bunnies need their Daddy, and if you ask nicely, I’ll be happy to assist you!” Milluki bends down to grab you, but finds difficulty when his large stomach stops him halfway. Grunting slightly, he crouched down, finally able to grab one of your arms and heft you into his own. Once secure, he stands to his feet, stumbling to your bed.

He tosses you in the middle, much to your disgust, and flips you onto your back. He gazes down at your perfect body, practically salivating at the sight of you.

Your pussy is drooling onto the dirty sheets, cleaning away his dirt in its midst. Perfect teats are pebbled, chest heaving in deep breaths. Your ears hang high above your head, curling slightly, looking adorable. Your little tail above your cute butt looks so nice to pull. A thin sheen of sweat is present on your skin, and as much as he wants to be disgusted, he can’t. You’re just too perfect like this.

“Do you need Daddy’s help? Come on, you need to beg for him,” Your body locks up in revulsion. You don’t want his nasty cock anywhere near you! For all you know, he’ll give you a bacterial infection!

“Nu-no, Daddy. I just-I just need to sleep, I think!” Looking over your shoulder, you see a dark present on his face.

“Are you disgusted by me?” His voice comes out deeper than normal, anger slowly starting to become apparent.

“No! No! Nothing like that, Daddy!” You force your aching body up, crawling towards him. You’re on your knees before him, holding onto his dress shirt pathetically within your pretty hands, “I just-you know I want to wait until we’re married,” You look down in an attempt to be bashful. Telling him that lie at the beginning really saved your ass, but right now, it seems that he’s tired of waiting, “I promise that that’s all! Because what if I get pregnant? I want to ensure my baby is taken care of-“

He grabs your hands, yanking you towards him, your naked chest smashing into his fat. He cups your face with gross hands, gaging your reaction. When all he sees is anxiety, he sighs overdramatically, “There’s no need to worry about all of that. Mama said I can marry you, so we can make a baby now!” His words make you gush with unwanted arousal, the last thing you want is him to fuck you, “See?” He releases your face with one hand, using the other to scoop up some of your arousal, “Why are you stopping yourself? Daddy’s cock is more than sufficient to fill you up.”

Try as you might, the smell of his arousal and your heat clouded mind are starting to drive you wild. He’s the closest fertile male, making your instincts go into overdrive to mate.

A pathetic whine leaves your throat, making him giggle horribly, “Even all teary eyed, you still look so cute. Good thing all of your makeup is water-proof, because if they weren’t, you’d look so ugly right now.”

You’re so aroused, that his words don’t make you furious like you usually would be.

“Now, take out my cock, Bunny. Suck me well, and I’ll breed your pretty pussy well,” In your mind, you don’t want to. You don’t even want to touch him with a ten foot pole. But, instinctually, you’re ready to jump his bones.

With shaking hands, you grab his belt, unlooping it with ease. Sliding it off, you move to his button and fly. Unbuttoning his pants is a bit difficult, due to it barely containing his large body, but you manage. Once done, you move on to his drawers, gross, white stains cover the front of them in a crusty topcoat.

Shivering in disgust, you pull them down, revealing his decent sized cock. Milluki smiles down at you, and grabs your ears in a makeshift ponytail, egging you on.

Deciding not to look to close at his repulsively unwashed cock, you close your eyes, and suck on his precum coated tip. It tastes awful. If you thought that heat inducing elixir was awful, this is 100 times worse.

Withholding your gags, you take him further down your throat, praying you don’t get strep throat. Using your tongue, you rub the vein on the bottom of his shaft. Hollowing out your cheeks, you suck him hard, bobbing your head quickly in the hopes of him finishing.

Gripping your ears even harder, he groans and pants as he bucks into your mouth. Milluki can’t believe it! His waifu is sucking his cock willingly!

That thought has him busting a fat, chunky load down your throat, causing you to almost throw up for real this time. He quickly pulls you off by your ears, looking down at you in awe.

The puddle around your cunt only grew bigger, and your fucked out expression is so endearing!

“Good girl for making Daddy cum! Do you want him to cum in that cunny? To make the hurt go away?” You nod eagerly, making a piggish smirk cross his features, “Beg for me, Bun Bun, beg for me nicely, and I’ll do it.”

You grasp his cloth covered hips in a tight grip, resting your chin on his large stomach, “Please, Daddy! Please make it stop! Please fill me!”

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I’m convinced,” Whining at his words, you turn around in his hold, pressing your slick cunt against his already hardening cock. Rubbing lightly, you keen at the pressure.

“Please, Daddy, I’m begging you! Please fuck me!” Milluki can’t hold back anymore, immediately forcing his cock inside your soaked pussy. Screaming in pleasure, you push yourself harder against him, tail tickling the underside of his tummy.

“Shit, you feel amazing,” He bucks his hips into yours hard and fast, not caring about your pleasure, “Don’t you see? This is your purpose; a little Bun like you is meant to be my cock sleeve, my little baby maker.”

You can’t bring yourself to respond, only pathetically fucking yourelf into his thrusts. He groans at your tight and wet walls, loving the way your cute, bunny body clings to him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” He lifts one of your ears to whisper into it, “You want my babies? You want me to cum inside?”

You nod your head rapidly, disregarding the slight pain of his tugging, “Uh-huh, please fill me up, Daddy! Make me your house wife! Make me have your baby!”

Your words send him over the edge. Slamming himself deep inside you, he releases his disgusting cum inside your womb, bloating your tummy slightly.

The large man leans on your smaller form, smushing your face into the dirty sheets. Within moments, the burning feeling and pain is gone, leaving you disturbed and revolted.

“Wha-what do good girls say to their Daddies?” You wanted to throw yourself out of a thirty floor window.

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for giving me a baby,” He pets your head with a moist hand, rolling out and off of you, in favour of lying behind you. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close to his soft body.

Milluki falls asleep quickly, allowing you to cry quietly to yourself.

Outside the door, Illumi stands motionless. He can hear your crying, and for the first time in his life, he truly pities someone.

He can only hope his father will reject you as Milluki’s spouse.

Otherwise, you’ll be stuck with the ugly bastard for life.

Requester: @milluki-simp--i-guess

#yandere hxh #yandere milluki #milluki hxh #milluki x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #tw: noncon

229 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years ago

Text

Office Neighbors - Part Eight

a/n: a very Andy heavy part, not proofread (reblogs and feedback are super helpful!)

warnings: slight angst, fluff, and smut

words: 15K

masterpost

“I’m not gonna let you talk to her until you both settle down!” Harry shouts at his mother and sister.

“We’re settled, just dial the number!” Anne shouts back.

“Yeah, the TV can only occupy all the kids for so long.” Gemma says. “She’s probably waiting as it is.”

Harry was ready to throw up. He couldn’t remember the last time he introduced a woman to his family, and it wouldn’t even be a proper introduction since it was over FaceTime.

“Okay, okay, Christ.” He swipes your contact. “Just let me say hi to her first before you two jump in.”

You answer after a moment, you were sitting up on your bed at Phil and Julian’s. You made sure your hair and makeup were done, and your headphones were in, just in case there were wandering ears.

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry smiles warmly.

“Hey! How’s everything going?”

“Good! Everyone’s good. We all decorated my sister’s tree last night.”

“Oh, fun! Phil made sweet potato pancakes they were so good.”

“That’s great.” He smiles.

“Yeah.” You smile.

You see a hand smack Harry’s shoulder and you suck your lips into your mouth to keep from laughing.

“Right, well, my mum and sister are here…” He side eyes Gemma. “Would you like to say hello?”

“I would.” You nod. It was the whole point of the FaceTime, but you thought it was sweet he was being so formal. Both Anne and Gemma come into view and smile. “Hello! It’s nice to sort of meet you both.” You chuckle.

“Same to you, dear!” Anne says brightly. “Oh, Harry, she’s lovely.” She whispers, but you hear her.

“Yeah, I know it’s not the same as in person, but this works.” Gemma says. “Hope we didn’t wake you up too early for this…”

“Not at all! I was up anyways getting some work done. How’s the weather over there? It flurried a bit, but it hasn’t been too bad.”

“Freezing rain here, I’m afraid.” Harry says.

“Is that Y/N? Hi, Y/N!” Andy says as he comes into the kitchen where the meeting was occurring.

“Andy.” Harry sighs. “You’re supposed to be-“

“Oh, just give the damn phone to me. You know her plenty, Mum and I don’t, so shoo!” Gemma snatches the phone from Harry, and Anne follows her into the adjacent room.

“Well…isn’t that just perfect.” Harry says to Andy.

“Auntie Gem told me to do it, sorry.” Andy giggles and runs out of the room while Harry chases him.

“Sorry about that, things can get a little hectic around here.” Anne laughs.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” You chuckle.

“So, where are you this week?” Gemma asks.

“I’m staying at my brother’s place in Boston. I’ll be here until the day after New Year’s. My friends and I usually get together for the fireworks and all that.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun!” Anne says. “I can’t remember the last time I actually stayed up late enough to watch the ball drop.” She laughs. “I’m usually home watching all the kids while Harry and Gemma go out.”

“Yeah, we have a couple of parties of our own to go to. Lots of friends for Harry to see. He’s quite popular amongst our group.”

“That’s nice, you share a lot of the same friends?”

“Oh, sure.” Gemma shrugs. “We’re only a couple of years apart in age, and we worked at the same bakery growing up, sort of attached at the hip.”

“You two were awfully cute. They’d even willingly wear matching Halloween costumes.” Anne says. “Remember the year you were Mario and he was Princess Peach?”

“Now that’s something I’d love to see.” You say.

“Okay!” Harry bolts into the room and snatches his phone. “Think you’ve all chatted long enough.”

“You got an entire meal with her family, I think it’s only fair-“

“Mum! Lizzy won’t stop touching me!”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Seems like your kids need you.” Harry sneers.

“Wonderful, three brats.” She rolls her eyes. “It was nice chatting, Y/N.” Gemma says as she leaves the room the scope out the scene.

“I better go help her.” Anne chuckles as follows out as well.

“So…Princess Peach, huh? You don’t still happen to have that costume do you? I bet you look lovely in a dress.”

“I was five.” Harry rolls his eyes. “And you’re right, I look exceptional in a dress.”

“They’re very nice, your mum and sister. Um…is Gemma not married, or…?”

“She’s widowed, unfortunately.” Harry whispers. “That’s why my mum lives with her, she needed help with her kids and I obviously wasn’t around. It sucked, he had cancer.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s been a few years, she’s doing much better, but she doesn’t date. She’s tried, but it’s too much.”

“I don’t blame her.”

“Did you have a nice Hanukkah with your family?”

“I did! I refereed a game of dreidel for my younger cousins, it was pretty funny.”

“You really like kids, don’t you?”

“I love kids.” You blush.

“Suppose that’s why you’re so good with them then, huh?” He was blushing too, but he was giving you that toothy smile you loved so much.

“I miss you, Harry.”

“I miss you too.”

“Dad…you better get in there…Lizzy and Ritchie have started to wrestle.”

“Better go pry them apart.” Harry chuckles. “I’ll talk to you soon, love you.”

“Love you too, bye Andy!”

You sigh as you hang up. You knew you’d physically get meet everyone someday so it would be less chaotic, but it was nice to meet them nonetheless.

On New Year’s Eve you throw on a black turtleneck bodysuit and a pair of jeans with some booties. You head out with Phil and Julian once they’re both home from work to meet your other friends at the bar. You send Harry a quick selfie, wanting to still look cute before you inevitably got sweaty and drunk. It was already the New Year in London, and Harry had sent you a selfie before he went out. It was sweet.

“Y/N!” Your best friend Nora squeals as soon as you see her.

“Hey!” You squeal back and hug her.

“It’s so good to see you, I’m so glad we could get together for this.”

“Same here, I know hard it is for you to get away…”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Wouldn’t miss a New Year’s in Boston. Hi Phil, hi, Julian.”

“Hi, Nora.” Phil smiles. “Y/N, we’re gonna go get a booth.”

“Okay, I think I’ll hang by the bar for bit with the crew.”

You say hello to your other friends: Claudia, Mark, and Darcy.

“Okay, so, where’s your man? We’ve been dying to meet him.” Mark says.

“He’s in London with his family.” You shrug. “You’ll meet him eventually, I promise.”

“Too bad, Nora says he’s quite the hunk.” Claudia says.

You side eye your friend as she laughs.

“You send me the best pictures, how could I not share?”

“His tattoos are really interesting.” Darcy says. “Never thought you’d be into a guy so inked up.”

“Neither did I, but I like them a lot.” You bite the rim of your cup and smile.

“I feel like it’s been forever since you’ve been serious with someone.” Mark says. “What’s it about this one?”

“Yeah, doesn’t he have a kid?” Claudia asks.

“He does…and I care a lot about him. His name is Andy, and he’ll be twelve in May.”

“Twelve?!” They all exclaim.

“How old is this guy?” Darcy asks.

“He’ll be thirty-three at the beginning of February. Would you all calm down? He had his son young, it is what it is.” You shrug.

“I knew you wanted to be a mom, but shit.” Nora laughs. “Whatever, you’re happy, right?”

“Very.”

“Then that’s all that matters. Now, I’m much more interested to hear how your love life is going, Mark.”

“Single and ready to find some New Year’s dick tonight.”

You all burst into laughter and clink your glasses. You all end up bar hopping a bit, saying goodbye to your brother and letting him know you’ll be back whenever, which he has no problem with. You get pretty sloshed with your friends, and you ended up at a dance club. You were having an incredible time. The club had plenty of TV’s going so a little before midnight, you all huddle together to watch the ball drop. You all kiss each other’s cheeks, it was cute. You feel your phone buzzing, and it’s a FaceTime request from Harry.

“Hello?!” You shout.

“Happy New Year!” He smiles. You nearly melt. He was still in bed, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses yet, and his hair was all floppy. “Where are you?”

“At a club, and-“

“Is that him?!” Nora shouts and goes behind your shoulder. “Oooo, look at him! Hiya hot stuff!”

“Isn’t it, like, really early in London?” Claudia slurs to Darcy.

“Yeah, babe, isn’t it, like, six in the morning?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I was getting up anyways, and I wanted to call.”

“Aww.” You and your friends swoon.

“Well…I can see you’re busy, so I’ll let you go.”

“Okay! Happy New Year, love you!” You hang up before he can say it back.

“Damn, Y/N, he’s handsome.” Mark says.

“Mhm, and he’s allll mine.” You giggle with your friends.

“There’s my baby!” Paige exclaims as Andy gets off the plane. She throws her arms around him and kisses him. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah! Grammy and Auntie Gem say hi.” He holds her hand as they make their way to baggage.

“Oh, that’s nice of them. You had fin with Lizzy and Ritchie?”

“Yeah, we got to play the new game Y/N got me.”

“What game is that?”

“What Do You Meme, it’s a lot of fun.”

“Well, that was very nice of her to get that for you. Seemed like you got a lot of other nice gifts from when we spoke on Christmas.”

“Mhm, and Grammy got me a ton of new clothes. She got me those sneakers I’ve been wanting.”

“She sure has an eye for fashion, huh?” She chuckles. “So, we’re going to grab your bag and then Noah and Rachel are waiting in the car. Are you too tired for lunch?”

“No, I slept pretty well on the plane. One of the attendants sat with me and held my hand when we took off.”

“I love it when they do that for you, that’s so nice.”

“Gram’s not coming for lunch?”

“No, she ended up going to New York with Auntie Allie for New Year’s…she’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Alright, it’ll be nice then, just the four of us.”

“Yeah, it will. Everyone missed you, honey.”

Andy actually enjoys his lunch with everyone. He and Rachel talk about their new gifts. It warmed Paige’s heart to being having some real family time. The few days Andy is home is wonderful, and come Sunday, you show up to pick Andy up. You’d be having brunch with Paige before taking Andy back to Harry’s. You made sure to stock the fridge with all his favorites already. You take a deep breath, and ring the bell. After a couple of moment, Paige answers the door.

“Y/N!” She says brightly. “Come on in, you must be freezing.”

“Hi, thanks.” You smile and enter the home. She takes your coat and hangs it up. It was oddly quiet. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, well, my sister came back with my mom late last night, so they’re out with Andy now having a brunch of their own, and Rachel has Hebrew school on Sunday mornings, and they usually get lunch together after that. So it’s just us two, I’ve got quite the spread for us, come into the kitchen.”

She really did have quite the spread. Bagels, cream cheese, eggs, juice, and fruit.

“Wow, you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Oh, sure I did. Would you like some coffee?”

“That’d be great, thank you.”

She nods and gestures for you to sit while she gets the coffee.

“I’m so glad we could finally get together to do this. I feel like I know you, but don’t at the same time.” She sips her coffee and makes up a plate, as do you. “Did you have a nice holiday?”

“I did, yeah, thank you. Did you?”

“As good as it could have been, I suppose.” She nods. “It was weird without my dad, but that’s life.” She shrugs.

“I’m so sorry, it must have been difficult.”

“It was weird, all of the fun helped distract us, but I know it was really hard for my mother. The first holidays without them are always the hardest.” You nod at her. “Anyways, I…oh, that’s a lovely necklace.” She points to your palm tree, and you clutch at it.

“Thank you, um, Harry got it for me.” You swallow.

“This doesn’t need to be weird, Y/N.” She smirks. “You’re in his life, which means you’re in my son’s life, and I just wanna know more about you, that’s all. This isn’t a one way street either, if there’s anything you’d like to know about me I’d be happy to answer.”

“I know…I have to admit, I was a little nervous to be one on one with you. I hope you know, I care a lot about Andy.”

“No need to be nervous. Harry trusts you, so I do too.” She shrugs. “He’s always been such a great judge in character.”

“Can I ask…how did you two meet?”

“Oh, god, years ago when we were in college. He came to our school when he was a sophomore, and joined our group. I was dating this other guy at the time, but we became fast friends. He was always so sweet. The other guy and I broke up eventually, and then I can’t quite recall what it was, but long story short Harry and I got together. I graduated a year ahead of him, but we made it work.”

“And Andy was an accident?”

“He certainly wasn’t planned.” She laughs. “I’ll spare you the details, but we were shocked to say the least when we found out. I was already working at the law office, thank god, so I had some decent benefits and maternity leave and all that.”

“Were you scared being so young?”

“A little…I was more so worried at the time about being so far away from Harry. I had started working in this area, so we were long distance. I was grateful he found a grad program in the area that worked for him. I sort of felt guilty for making him grow up so fast, but I got over it. He really stepped up.”

“He’s a great dad.”

“He really is! He was a natural right away.”

“And…it just didn’t work out between you two?”

“I was sort of stubborn, and a little resentful. He was getting to work on his career, and I felt like I was in a rut. My parents were getting to me…and…one morning I woke up and looked at him and realized I just wasn’t in love. When we were dating in school it was just fun, you know? I hadn’t really been given the chance to see if I wanted something future wise with him. For all I knew, he could have decided to go back to London, you know? It was awful because we were living together, and we had Andy, and I just couldn’t figure out how to end it, and then…well, he asked me to marry him, and that was when I knew it had to be over, so I told him no and we broke up. I felt sick over it because I knew I hurt him.”

You blink as you take all of the information in. Sometimes people just weren’t compatible, and that was okay, and maybe Harry had been looking at things with rose colored glasses.

“His parents were divorced growing up, so I think he thought getting married would make everything better. We fought a lot, things just stopped being fun.” She shrugs. “But that was all a long time ago, and we worked on things for Andy’s sake, and I’d like to think we’re doing right by him now. He raves about you, they both do, and it makes me so happy to hear it.”

“You really want what’s best for Harry, huh?”

“I do.” She nods. “And for my son, obviously. I know at times it may seem weird that Harry and I are sort of close…especially after my father died, but it’s really not always like that. It’s not like we text or talk every day. We only meet up when we absolutely have to. I think sometimes when we see each other more we fall into that old patter of friendship, but it doesn’t go further than that, I hope you can see that. I love Noah, I really feel like he’s the person I’m supposed to be with.”

“I…feel that way about Harry.” You mutter and sip your coffee, but you don’t miss her smile.

“That makes me so happy to hear, you have no idea.” She gives your hand a squeeze. “So, tell me, you’re working on your PhD, and then what?”

“Hopefully become a full professor at some point. I really like working at the university, so I won’t be going anywhere once I finish.”

“I just hope they give you a pay bump afterwards. Harry had to fight for his, he honestly almost left when they said no, but they didn’t want to lose him.”

“Right.”

“You’re just on a yearly contract, right?”

“Yeah, I can’t go for tenure until I have my doctorate.”

“Do you have anything planned for while you’re with Andy?”

“I have a couple of craft ideas, yeah. You’re not mad he wanted to stay with me?”

“No, I get it. He was so annoyed last year when he had to get up earlier for school and all that. Plus…right now he still enjoys seeing my mother, my biggest fear is that if he’s here a lot he may not like the visits as much. She’s sweet on him now, but she has this way of saying these little things that eventually just get under your skin.”

“God, I’m so sorry, that must be so difficult.”

“I’m just glad she has her own section of the house to putter around in.”

“Would she ever go back to living in a condo or anything? Maybe there’s some type of old folks community she could go to.”

“They were living in one before, but she really doesn’t want to live alone, and I don’t blame her. As shrill as she can be, I know she likes being around people.” She sighs. “Look, I guess I just wanted to say that I’m glad Harry has you, and I’m glad Andy has you too. Becoming a blended family isn’t easy, and I’m sure Harry having to watch me move on wasn’t easy either. He had started talking about you here and there, his new office neighbor, and how funny she was.” Paige grins. “I knew right away he had a little crush on you. I’d never seen him play it so cool because I’ve only ever known him as a flirt, but I know it’s different when you work with someone.”

“Andy told me something similar. God, how embarrassing for him to be gushing about me.” You chuckle.

“No, it was so sweet! I remember when he asked if he could bring a friend to Andy’s party, as if he needed my permission. We were very excited to meet you. I’m glad things have been going so well for you two.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.”

“You and I don’t need to be best friends or anything, but I definitely want us to be friendly, you know? I look at Noah and Harry, and I know there are times they have their own squabbles, but it’s nice they get along so well. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

“That’s very kind of you, thank you. I definitely don’t feel nervous around you anymore. Um, so, is there anything I should know about taking care of Andy for longer than just a few hours?”

“He’ll try to get more TV time, and he loves talking on the phone with his friends, if you don’t cap it at an hour, he’ll wrack up the phone bill. He won’t admit it, but he still likes the crust cut off his sandwiches. Oh! You’ll need to help him with his hair after he showers.”

“What does he need help with?”

“Well, there’s this special mousse he uses to help his curls really come out. Harry uses it, so he likes using it. You need to dry his hair with a t-shirt, and then comb through it. Then you have to get the mousse in your hands and run it through his hair. It’s best if he doesn’t shower right before bed because then you have to let it air dry.”

“Okay, very good to know. I don’t think I’ve been over when Harry’s helped him with that.”

“Other than that, it’s just helping him with homework and packing lunches. He’s not one of those kids that needs to sleep with you if he has a scary dream or anything like that. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me, alright?”

“Alright.” You smile at her and she smiles back. You’re able to finish the rest of your meal in peace.

A little while later Andy comes in with his Gram and Auntie Allie.

“Y/N!” He shoots over to you and gives you a hug.

“Hi, did you have a good flight and all that?”

“Yeah! I’ll go up and get my stuff.”

“Okay.” You chuckle as he races upstairs.

“You both remember Y/N from Andy’s birthday party, right?” Paige says to her sister and mother.

“Yes, hi.” Allie smiles and shakes your hand. “Good to see you again.”

“You too.” You smile. “Hello Lydia.” You shake her hand and you watch as she sizes you up.

“Hello, so, you’re taking my grandson from me?”

“Mom, please.” Paige says. “Andy wants to be able to stay at home easier with Harry gone.”

“This is home too.”

“It is, but he goes to school in another town, so it’ll be easier for him to stay with Y/N.”

“You’re always giving in so easily, Paige, you should have never let-“

“Pardon me, but what are you doing?” You say.

“Excuse me?” Lydia says.

“No, I don’t think I will. Were you seriously just about to start an argument with your daughter about her son in front me? What is wrong with you? She’s his mother, I think she knows what she’s doing. You may have zero clue about what it’s like to raise a child with someone you’re not with, but she’s doing her best. I think it takes a lot of strength and courage to change up a living arrangement the way she did. It may not be my place to say because I’m just the girlfriend of the guy who she used to be with, and I know you just lost your husband, but you need to check yourself lady.”

Allie sucks her lips in to keep from laughing, and Paige has to do the same. This was prime entertainment.

“Maybe she feels like she can’t stand up to you because she’s trying to keep the peace, but she shouldn’t have to do that in her own home. You should be grateful she didn’t ship you off to a retirement home. I’m sure you have a lot of things to be angry about, but let it go. Your daughter’s made a wonderful life for herself, and I think you should recognize that before it’s too late.”

Andy comes down with his things, and goes over to give everyone a hug.

“Thanks again for lunch Gram.”

“You’re, um, more than welcome sweetheart.” She was in shock.

“See on Friday, Mum.” Andy says as he hugs his mother. “Bye, Auntie Allie, love you.”

“Love you too.”

“It was nice seeing everyone. Thanks again for brunch, Paige, it was wonderful.” You and Andy head out and leave them all stunned.

“Oh, I like her.” Allie says with a laugh.

“Who speaks to a stranger that way?!” Lydia says.

“She had a point.” Paige says. “Who starts an argument in front of a stranger? And, fuck it, she’s not a stranger! She’s Harry’s girlfriend, his serious girlfriend, who I happen to like, and Andy adores her. She was right mom, you need to check yourself. Take some time to figure out your priorities because I can’t live like this! I’m walking on eggshells in my own home. My home, not yours.”

“Okay, can everyone just take a deep breath?” Allie says. “Let’s just sit down and have a conversation without this becoming a screaming match.”

As you drive Andy to Harry’s, you hear him trying to bite back a laugh.

“What’s so funny back there?”

“Nothing, it’s just…I’ve heard my dad raise his voice at Gram before, and hearing you do the same thing just proves you two are a good couple.”

“Oh god, you heard me?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Thanks for standing up for my mom.”

“Of course! She’s a really nice person, she doesn’t deserve to be talked down to in her own home like that. I couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.” You scoff. “Anyways, what do you say when we get back we get you unpacked and then we talk lunches for the week?”

“Sounds good to me. Thanks again for wanting to stay with me.”

“I’m happy to do it. It’ll be fun.”

“Do you think…um, if it goes well, that you’ll move in?”

Your eyes grow wide and your heart skips a beat.

“That’s a conversation I’d need to have with your dad, Andy. It’s sort of a big deal for two people to move in together. I’ll be honest with you, I don’t think I’m ready for that, but I really do enjoy staying over when I do.”

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” He shrugs.

You turn up the music and take a deep breath. Once you get Andy inside, and he unpacks his things you go into the kitchen with him to discuss lunches for the week.

“Just pb and j’s are fine, it doesn’t need to be fancy.”

“I know, but I wanna make sure you’re not hungry. I could cut up some carrots for you and put some chips in there too. Would you like that?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He shrugs. “Are you gonna make baked ziti tomorrow? Dad usually gets up early on Monday mornings to get it all together and then he just throws it in the oven when we get home.”

“Sure, I can make that. I don’t know if it’ll come out as good though.”

“I’ll get up early to help you, hold on a second.” Andy goes down to the basement where Harry has another freezer and comes back up with a container of sauce. “This needs to thaw overnight in the fridge.”

“Thank god you remembered, I wouldn’t have even thought about it. So it’s pretty much just boil the pasta and get it together with the sauce?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright, I shouldn’t need your help then. What time should I wake you up in the morning?”

“6:30.”

“Okay.” You nod. “Well, I know you had a big lunch, so just let me know when you feel hungry and I’ll whip up something for dinner.”

“Sounds good, I’m gonna go hang out in my room.”

“I’ll be up in the loft working if you need me.” You smile.

You: hey baby, I’m at your place with Andy. I’m gonna make him pb and j’s for lunch this week :)

Harry: that sounds great! Just make sure to cut the crust off, he won’t tell you to do it, but that’s how he likes it

You: so I’ve heard…I had a nice time with Paige today

Harry: not too awkward?

You: not really no, although, I did tell off her mom

Harry: you did?!

You: yeah, she was about to start some argument with Paige in front of me and I was like uhhh I think the fuck not!

Harry: lmao good for you, like I said, Lydia can be a bitch

You: for real

Harry: what are you up to now?

You: I’m gonna get some work done, wbu

Harry: just reading, the house is finally a little quieter…got my big meeting tomorrow

You: I know! I can’t wait to hear all about it

Harry: maybe we could FaceTime after??

You: definitely!

Harry: maybe we could plan it for when I’m getting ready for bed 😈 😈 😈

You: you’re an idiot

Harry: come on! Could be fun

You: normally I’d be game for phone sex, but at the time you’d be going to bed, I’d be eating dinner with your son, not exactly appropriate

Harry: maybe you could just send me a sexy pic then

You: a sexy pic?! How old are you???

Harry: 32, you’ve got a shit memory babe

You: you’re not helping your case

Harry: just teasing!

You: mhm, I’m going to do some work now

Harry: okay, okay I’m sorry

You: don’t be I just blah because I got my period this morning…so no sexy pics, but maybe when Andy goes back to Paige’s we could get a little frisky over the phone

Harry: sounds like an excellent compromise to me darling

You get up early the next morning to put the baked ziti together, and then you get Andy’s lunch box all set. You take a quick shower, and get dressed before going to wake up Andy. You gently open his door and peep your head in.

“Andy?” You coo. “It’s time to get up.” You hear him groan. “I’ve been told not to leave until you actually get up.”

“Ugh, fine.” He rips his blanket off and puts his feet on the floor. “Happy?”

“Very.” You smile. “Any requests for breakfast?”

“Oatmeal, please.” He yawns and you nod.

You drop Andy off at school on time, and wave to him as he walks inside. Morning one is done, you can do this.

Andy goes to his locker and puts what he doesn’t need away, and grabs his things for his first few classes.

“Andy!” Brandon exclaims and hugs him.

“Oof!” He giggles. “Almost knocked me over.”

“Sorry.” Brandon steps back and clears his throat. “How was London?”

“It was great, I had so much fun. How was your holiday?”

“It was good. Connecticut isn’t as exciting as London though.” He laughs and they both head to homeroom.

They sit in their seats and talk with their other friends. Their teacher comes in speaking with another student. Andy does a double take and his eyes grow wide. It was a girl with long, flowing brown hair. She had it up in a ponytail on the top of her head, held with a blue scrunchie.

“Hey, who’s that?” He asks his friends.

“Never seen her before.” Brandon says.

“Everyone!” The teacher says after the second bell rings. “Let’s settle down. I hope you all had a wonderful break. Today I’m excited to introduce a new student, Caroline Stearn, I hope you all will give her a warm welcome. Caroline, would you like to say a few things about yourself?”

“Um…sure? Hi, I’m Caroline, I just moved here from Maine…my mom just got a teaching job at the university down the road and my dad also just started working at the university, but he works in IT. I have three older sisters, they’re all in high school.”

“Thank you Caroline, why don’t you have a seat in front of Andy over there?”

She nods and does as told. She smiles at Andy and he smiles back. The teacher starts talking about whatever news the students need before homeroom is over.

“I’m Andy.” He whispers, and she turns around almost surprised.

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles.

“I was new here last year…but I came from a school a couple towns over.” He smirks. “You can sit with us at lunch if you want.”

“Really?” She sounds relieved. “That’d be great, thanks.”

He nods and she faces back front. He looks over at Brandon who was making a face at him. Andy mouths ‘what’ at him, and Brandon rolls his eyes. Andy felt nervous, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Carline, how’s your first day going so far?” Tyler asks her during lunch.

“It’s okay. “ She shrugs. “Everyone seems nice so far.”

“Do you miss living in Maine at all?” Andy asks. She was sitting next to him.

“Honestly, not really.” She giggles. “We were from a really small town with nothing to do.” Everyone at the table bursts out laughing. “What?” Her face was red now.

“And this town doesn’t scream small town to you?” Brandon says. “The closest arcade is thirty minutes away, same with the movie theater. There’s literally nothing to do.”

“My class sizes back home were ten people max. There’s like twenty of us here.” She says shyly and takes a bite of her sandwich. She sees Andy’s and smiles. “You don’t like the crust either?”

“No.” He smiles at her. “You know what’s funny? My dad’s girlfriend made this for me, and I didn’t even have to ask her to cut it off. She’s like, psychic or something.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s staying with you, right?” Brandon chimes in.

“Mhm, she told off my Gram yesterday. It was so funny. She’s so cool, I’m really glad my dad’s with her. He can be so lame sometimes.” He rolls his eyes, and then looks at Caroline. “Sorry, that must all sound confusing.”

“It’s okay. Maybe we could get together some time and you could explain it to me.”

Andy nearly chokes on his sandwich. He takes a sip of his water, and starts nodding.

“Yeah, um, we could definitely do that.”

“Cool.” She smiles.

“Cool.” He smiles back, and then look up at Brandon who just rolls his eyes.

Since you had time before classes started back up in a couple of more weeks, you decide to go to the library to get some work done, rather than go to your office. It would almost be too quiet. Normally you’d just sleep in, but it was almost good you needed to be up for Andy, it would keep you in a routine. Lisa was hoping to see a very rough draft of your work once the second semester started.

You get a fuck ton done before needing to pick Andy up at 2:30. You decide to stop off at Dunkin beforehand to surprise him with a hot chocolate as a treat. The first day back to school after a break always felt long as a kid, so you thought you’d do something to potentially perk him up. As you pull up you see Andy walking out with Brandon, but also with a young girl. He waves goodbye to Brandon and hangs back with the girl.

“Thanks for being so nice to me today.”

“It’s not like you made it hard…” He blushes. “Um, so, you were thinking maybe Thursday after school?”

“Yeah! It would have to be your house, though, we’re still unpacking.”

“I’ll ask my dad’s girlfriend, I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“Okay…I’m excited.”

“Me too.”

“Oh! There’s my mom’s car, I better go. Bye, Andy.”

“Bye, Caroline.”

Andy sees your car and races over, getting into the back seat.

“Hi, how was school?”

“It was…really great actually.”

“Oh, good. Here, I got you a hot chocolate.”

“You’re the best, Y/N! Thanks.”

“You’re welcome…um, who was that girl you were just talking to?” You ask as you start to drive away.

“Oh, that was Caroline. She’s new, I helped her out a little bit today. I was actually sort of hoping she could come over after school Thursday.” He mutters.

“I’ll have to ask your dad if girls are allowed over.” You smirk. “You might have to hang out in a more open area.”

“Brandon and I don’t have to do that…”

“Very true, but even still, you and Brandon don’t keep the door closed when he’s over.”

“You got me there.” He shrugs. “I’m sure Dad will say yes.”

“When do your basketball practices start?”

“Next Tuesday.”

“Do you have everything you need for that?”

“Yup, I got a ton of new stuff for Christmas.”

“Okay, cool, just wanted to make sure. So…Caroline’s nice?”

“Super nice, and…her smile is pretty, so are her eyes. They’re like…the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh!”

“She…she gave me the butterflies, Y/N.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Already?”

“Yeah, and now I’m confused because I thought Brandon gave me butterflies.”

“Well…sometimes two people can give you butterflies, that’s okay.”

“But she’s a girl and he’s a boy…why am I so weird?” He groans.

“Oh, Andy, you’re not weird at all. A lot of people feel like you about boys and girls.”

“They do?”

“Sure! One of my really good friends Darcy likes boys and girls.”

“How does she decide which one she likes better?”

“Well, she doesn’t.” You shrug as you pull into the driveway. You both get into the house and sit on the couch to continue your conversation. Andy holds a throw pillow to his stomach. “I’ve been around her when she’s had a boyfriend, and when she’s had a girlfriend, both make her equally happy. I think for her, at the end of the day, she’s attracted to the type of person they are, so the gender doesn’t really matter.”

“My dad said something like that once, he says he just likes the person and the rest doesn’t really matter. And then I asked him if he liked boys like that and he said no, so I was just more confused.”

“Sexuality is an ever evolving thing, Andy. You may decide you like one thing now, but in a few years you could like something else. I know it all feels stressful and confusing, but remember you’re eleven. You have so much time to figure it all out.”

“So…you only like boys?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“How did you know?”

“I don’t know exactly. I’m just not attracted to women in a way that would make me want to date one.”

“Caroline is, like, really pretty. I’ve never really thought girls were pretty before.”

“Could just be a sign you’re growing up.” You give him a soft smile. “Can I ask…if you think Caroline is pretty, what do you think of Brandon?”

“Brandon’s…ugh, Brandon’s cute, Y/N.” Andy runs a hand over his face. “I like his smile too, and I mean, look the bracelet he made me. I made him one too, but he’s not as artsy as I am, and it’s literally perfect.” He holds his wrist out so you can get a better look at the bracelet.

“It’s a beautiful bracelet.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“When you ask my dad if Caroline can come over, can you please not mention anything else to him? I don’t want him to know about any of this.”

“Andy, he just wants to be there for you…”

“I know, but…he’ll just be so, like, after school special about it. Then he’ll tell my mom about it, and I really don’t want her knowing.”

“I don’t know if I can keep a secret from your dad, Andy.”

“You wouldn’t be! Please, Y/N?”

“Okay…I’ll keep this stuff between us.”

“Thank you.” He sighs with relief and leans forward to hug you.

After dinner you end up FaceTiming with Harry. He speaks with Andy for a bit first, and then it’s your turn. You take the phone into the bedroom for some privacy while Andy takes a shower.

“Hi.” You smile at him.

“Hey, baby.”

“How was your meeting?”

“Could not have gone better.”

“Really? That’s great!”

“They loved what I had, and signed me write another piece for the journal!”

“Harry, that’s incredible. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks. So, how was your first real day with him?”

“It was good.” You bite your bottom lip. “Can he have a friend over Thursday?”

“Sure, I don’t care if Brandon comes over.”

“It’s not Brandon…”

“Oh, Tyler then?”

“No, this is a new friend…a girl named Caroline.”

“A girl?! Wow, yeah, that’s fine. Did he tell you anything about her?”

“We actually had a long conversation about a lot of things today, but he asked me not to tell you and I don’t wanna betray his trust.”

“He…doesn’t want me to know something?”

“He doesn’t want an after school special lecture or whatever.”

“I do not do that.” He scoffs. “You really won’t tell me anything?”

“All I’m going to say is that he’s extremely confused, and I validated his feelings, and then he hugged me.”

“Does he like this girl?”

“He thinks she’s pretty.”

“And what about Brandon?”

“Can’t say.”

“Come on, Y/N.”

“Harry, I’m stuck here. I really wanna respect him. He’s not in any danger or anything so I think it’s okay that the conversation stayed between he and I.”

“I don’t like it.” He pouts.

“I’m sorry, baby doll.” You pout back.

“Y/N?! I need some help with my hair!”

“Welp, duty calls.” You giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Thanks for being there for him. I’m happy he has you to talk to.”

“Me too.”

You end the call and meet Andy in the living room. He looked incredibly cute with the t-shirt wrapped around his head. He sits down on the floor in front of the couch and you sit down. You comb through his hair as carefully as you can, and then you apply the mousse. You hear him sigh and it makes you smile.

“Wanna watch TV before you go read?” You ask him when you’re done.

“Yeah, can I put my show on?”

“Of course.” You smile. He gets cozy next to you, and you smirk when you see he selects Family Guy. “Andy…are you old enough to be watching this?”

“Dad lets me watch this all the time, it’s funny.” He shrugs.

“Do you even get half of the jokes?”

“Not really, but it’s still funny.”

“Okay.” You shake your head.

“Would you play with my hair?”

“Sure, do you wanna rest your head on my lap?”

“Yeah.” He smiles and grabs a pillow to get comfortable. “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You’d make a good mom.” He says with a yawn as he keeps his eyes on the TV.

“Oh, um, thank you, Andy.”

When Thursday rolls around, you pick Andy up, and you’re also met with Caroline getting into the backseat of your car.

“Hello, you must be Caroline, it’s nice to meet you.” You smile.

“Nice to meet you too.” She smiles.

“I’m Andy’s dad’s girlfriend. I hear your mom works at the university? So do I.”

“Oh, really? She works in the Psychology department…my dad works there too, but he’s in IT.”

“Well, feel free to tell your mom to look out for me and Harry. We teach in the Communication department.”

“Okay.” Caroline smiles.

You get the two of them home and fix them with a snack. You tell them you’ll be up in the loft and you remind Andy to keep his door open.

“She’s really nice.” Caroline says as she sits down on Andy’s bed.

“Yeah, she’s the first girlfriend my dad’s had in a long time. I like her a lot.”

“How long have they been together for?”

“I don’t know…seven months I think.”

“Wow, that’s a long time!”

“Super long. They were friends for a while before they got together too, so they knew each other really well.”

“That’s so sweet! My parents met on a blind date.” She giggles. “How did your mom and dad meet?”

“In college I guess.” He shrugs. “She lives about thirty minutes from here, I see her every other weekend.”

“Does she date anyone?”

“She’s engaged actually. His name is Noah and he has a daughter, Rachel. She’s a year younger than us.”

“Wow, it’s like that movie Blended.”

“Yeah! They’re nice enough, and Noah makes my mum happy, so that’s all I care about.”

“That’s, like, really grown up of you.” Caroline was in awe of Andy. He blushes slightly and clears his throat.

“Enough about me, what’s it like having three older sisters?”

“It can be fun and annoying. Like, they help me with my hair and clothes, but other times it feels like we’re always fighting. I feel bad for dad.”

“Why?”

“Because they all get their…monthly visits at the same time.”

“Oh! That video they showed us in health class was gross.”

“Did they show you the one about the girl who gets it for the first time, and then they talk about a girl’s insides?”

“Yeah! And then we had to watch the same one, but about boys, and then we had to watch a video about giving birth…”

“Ew, and they actually show the baby coming out, right?”

“Yeah…nasty.” They both shiver and then they both laugh.

“I know you guys said there wasn’t much to do around here, but what do you do for fun?”

“I play basketball with Brandon, his dad is our coach. Winter program on Fridays is fun. Do you ski?”

“I do! I can’t wait for tomorrow. Would you wanna sit with me on the bus?”

“Well…I would, but…I sit with Brandon.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can just sit near you, maybe? Are you two best friends?”

“Yeah, we are.” Andy blushes. “And yeah, you can definitely sit near me.”

“Cool.” She smiles and grabs her books out of her bag, and Andy does the same. “You’d been so great to me all week. I’m really glad that seat was open in front of you in homeroom.”

“Me too.”

Later that night, after Caroline’s mom picked her up, you and Andy watch a little TV on couch. He had been quiet.

“So, do you have everything together for winter program tomorrow?”

“Yup, got my ski bag ready to go.”

“Make sure to pack what you need for your mum’s, she’s gonna get you after school tomorrow.”

“And then I’ll see you Monday after school, right?”

“That’s right.”

“I had a lot of fun with you this week. You make me not miss my dad as much.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. It’s okay to miss him, though, I miss him a lot too.”

“You forgot to say that you had a lot of fun with me too.” He rolls his eyes.

“Oh, did I?” Andy likes praise too, it seems. “Well, I had loads of fun with you this week, and we’ll have loads more next week.”

“I hope we get a snow day or something. Brandon’s dad usually takes us sledding.”

“Maybe you could bring Caroline with you too. She’s very nice.”

“Yeah, I like her a lot. She asked if she could sit with me tomorrow, but I had to tell her no because I sit on the bus with Brandon.”

“That’s good you didn’t flake on Brandon.”

“He’d kill me if I did, although, I feel like he’s getting a taste of his own medicine.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember when he was with Molly? Everything was about her, now he knows how it feels.”

“Right, he’d talk about her a lot.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you talk about Caroline a lot?”

“Pretty much, it’s hard not to. She’s funny, and she always smells like cherries.” He swoons.

“And to think you’ve only known her for four days.” You chuckle.

“I wonder if she’ll go on the lift with me tomorrow, shoot, I should have asked her while she was here.”

“Do you have her number?”

“Yeah…”

“So text her and ask. Tell her you had a nice time hanging out, and then ask her if she’ll save a run for you tomorrow.”

“You’re brilliant, Y/N! I’m gonna go do that now and then get ready for bed. Goodnight!”

“Night.” You smile and watch him run off to his room.

You felt like a full on basketball-mom sitting at Andy’s practice. Watching all the boys was pretty fun, you never got to see Andy be sporty other than going on hikes. There were some other parents and older siblings in the gym watching as well. You got some funny looks from some, and others were quite friendly. You brought your laptop with you to get some work done, but you ended up taking pictures for Harry to see. You knew it killed him to miss Andy’s first week back in action.

Brandon’s dad had the boys running drills, back and forth, sprinting up and down the court. He had them all working on their dribbling, and at the end he had them scrimmage a bit. You noticed how when the boys had to stand and listen to directions that Brandon and Andy were often leaning on each other mindlessly, or touching in some fashion. When practice ends, Brandon chats with Andy quick.

“Did you wanna do homework over the phone later?” Brandon asks.

“I can’t. I need to shower and eat, and then I told Caroline I’d call her.”

“Oh…”

“Sorry, maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure, yeah, maybe you could just come over after school?”

“Well, Y/N is watching me for a reason, you know? You could come to place, though.”

“Yeah! I’ll ask my parents.”

“Great, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Andy comes over to you. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hey, you looked great out there.”

“Thanks, can Brandon come over tomorrow?”

“Sure.” You shrug. “Come on, I ordered a pizza for dinner and I need to go pick it up. Thought it would be a nice break from my cooking.”

“I like the way you cook, but pizza sounds great.”

Brandon was fuming, and you could feel it. Andy had accidentally invited Caroline over too, and you were just trying to keep them all happy. They were all playing video games in the living room, and you popped them some popcorn. They had all done their homework together, but you could feel the tension when you gave them dinner. Luckily they’d be getting picked up soon so you could chat with Andy about it. Caroline’s phone goes off.

“Oh! My dad’s here.” Andy pauses the game to walk her to the door. “Thanks for having me.” She gives Andy a hug goodbye after she gets her coat on, and heads out.

“Isn’t she cool, B? She knows how to play Smash Brothers.” Andy says as he sits back down with Brandon.

“It’s not rocket science.” He mumbles.

“Are you okay? You were sort of quiet…”

“Well, I thought just you and I were hanging out today.”

“I told you at school, when she and talked last night I just sort of told her she could come by. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. You used to do it with Molly all the time.”

“Yeah, but Molly was my girlfriend, that’s different.”

“How is that any different?”

“Because she’d let me kiss her after. You wouldn’t say no to someone who lets them kiss you.”

“Maybe you should go back to kissing her then.” Andy rolls his eyes. “I like hanging out with Caroline…”

“More than me?”

“No…it’s just different.”

“Well, it sort of feels like you have a new best friend.”

“Don’t be like that, she’s not my new best friend, she’s just a new friend. She’s really pretty. Who knows, maybe I’ll kiss her.”

“You like her enough to kiss her?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “She’s really pretty, don’t you think?”

“She’s okay.” Brandon shrugs, and he sees his phone light up. “My mom’s here, I have to go.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.”

“See you.” They both hug before Brandon leaves.

“Andy…um…”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” He huffs and goes to his room. You follow after him and stand in his doorway.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted some ice cream.”

“No, thank you.” He sighs. “I feel Brandon was upset with me. I really didn’t think he’d mind it if she came.”

“Well, now you know. Maybe don’t make it a group thing.”

“He’s the only one of our friends that seems to mind her. I don’t get it.”

“Maybe he’s jealous that you’re suddenly not as available.”

“Then that makes him a hippo because he did the same thing with Molly.”

“I think you mean hypocrite.” You chuckle.

“Whatever it is, you know what I mean. This is so annoying, I acted supportive when he told me he was dating her.”

“Are you saying you want to date Caroline?”

“Maybe! It shouldn’t matter, he should be there for me. I should be able to talk about girls and stuff with him.”

“Andy did you ever stop to think that maybe Brandon is confused in the way that you’re confused?” His eyes widen at that.

“You mean…Brandon could think that I’m cute?”

“He could, yeah.”

“Oh my god.” He looks around like he’s searching for an answer. “But what if Caroline thinks I’m cute too?”

“Do you think that she thinks you’re cute?”

“There are rumors going around that she does!”

“Okay, so what do you want to do?!”

“I have no idea!” He flops onto his bed. He mumbles something into his pillow.

“What?!”

“I think I wanna ask her out!”

“Are you even allowed to date yet?!”

“I don’t know! I didn’t think I’d be feeling this way so soon so I haven’t asked!”

“Well, now I have to tell your dad what’s been going on!”

“No, you can’t!”

“I have to!”

“Okay, everybody just be cool.” Andy stands back up. “Screaming won’t get us anywhere.”

“Andy, you can’t ask her out unless your dad says it’s okay. I don’t know how he feels about you dating. You’re only eleven!”

“But I like her…”

“Then you need to wait until Harry gets home, and you need to talk to him about all of this. I won’t say a word, but you sure as hell will.” You cross your arms and so does he.

“I don’t wanna talk to him about this. He’s too romantic about everything, and then he’s gonna be like ‘my baby has a crush’.”

“Well, his baby does have a crush. It’s adorable when you think about it.”

“God, not you too.” He runs his hands over his face. “Fine, I’ll talk to him when he gets back and I won’t make a move beforehand.”

“Good.” You nod and stick your hand out for him to shake. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

You went to bed exhausted as fuck that night. You needed Harry home, now.

The next morning at school Andy takes a deep breath before going over to Brandon at his locker.

“Hi.” He says shyly.

“Morning.” Brandon says without looking at him.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” Brandon closes his locker and looks at Andy. “I should have asked first before just inviting someone else over with us.”

“It’s okay.” Brandon sighs. “I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, Caroline is really pretty. Do you, um, think you like like her?”

“I might…I think so, but I’m a little confused. It doesn’t matter anyways, she probably doesn’t like me like that.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Brandon smirks and throws his arm around Andy’s shoulders as they walk to homeroom. “You’re a great catch.”

“Shut up.” Andy chuckles and nudges Brandon.

Things seemed fine between the boys as basketball practice. You could just tell by their body language. You and Andy share a dinner of pasta and veggies after he showers.

“Did you stay here all weekend while I was at my mum’s? I didn’t even think to ask.”

“No, I went back to my place. I’ll do the same when you go back on Friday. I had water my plants and all that.”

“What’s your place like?”

“It’s just a simple two bedroom.” You shrug. “I like it a lot cause it’s all mine. I love decorating and interior design, so I’ve had fun really making it my own.”

“If you could redecorate here, what do you think you’d change?”

“Hmm…” You look around. “First off, I’d paint…everywhere. It’s dark too dark in the living room. I’d paint it a light grey, and then find some curtains with some color to make it pop. I’d also get blinds for the sliding door, I hate that there’s nothing covering it. In here I’d probably get a round table to save some space. It’s a great size dining area and kitchen, but a round table would just make more sense, I think. I’d also put a glass coffee table in the living room to make it seem like there was more space, not that it’s cramped. It’s a wonderful sized home. More spacious than most ranches I’ve seen.”

“I literally agree with everything. Dad said we could do some painting over his spring break. I think he focused a lot on getting the outside to look nice.”

“Oh, you can tell he loves landscaping. This home has a beautiful curb appeal.”

“Do you think after dinner we could watch House Hunters together again? It was a lot of fun the other night.”

“Definitely!” You smile. “How were things with Brandon today?”

“Good, I apologized for just inviting Caroline over, and he said it was okay.”

“And how was Caroline today?”

“God she…she shared her cosmic brownie with me.” Andy rests his chin his palm and pouts. “I didn’t even ask, she just offered. She’s so nice, Y/N.”

“That was very nice of her.” You chuckle. “Those are the best brownies.”

“Dad never buys them because he says they’re overly processed, so we’ll make them here. It was a real treat.”

Andy helps you clean up dinner, and then you both get settled on the couch. He had gotten into a rhythm of resting his head on a pillow in your lap and wanting you to play with his hair. He had murmured that your nails felt nice like at the hairdresser. He loved listening to your commentary while watching the extremely staged show.

“Oh good, it’s House Hunters: Renovation! I love when they show what they did with the house after they bought it.” You say.

“Me too, I always like seeing if they make it worse or better.”

“I crack up when a lot of them try to do these intricate home projects by themselves. Hire someone for fuck’s sake.” You scoff and then blush. “Sorry.”

“Mum swears all the time.” Andy giggles. “If I tell her about someone that’s bother me, or something she just says fuck ‘em, it’s her…uh…what’s what word that starts with a ph?”

“Philosophy?”

“Yeah! It’s her philosophy.”

“Not a bad one to live by.” You smirk.

After two episodes, you send Andy off to bed, and get ready for bed yourself. You setting into one of Harry’s tee shirts, and decide to listen to one of those mediation bed time stories he’s always suggesting. You plug your headphones into your phone, turn the lights off and settle in. Just as you’re beginning to relax, the story stops, and Harry’s contact photo pops up on the screen, surprising you.

“Hello?” You whisper.

“Hi, baby.”

“Harry, it must be the middle of the night over there, why are you awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“My body pillow just isn’t doing it for me tonight, I miss you.”

“Aw, babe, I miss you too…only a few more days. You’re back Saturday, yeah?”

“Mhm...are you gonna be at my place or yours?”

“I’ll probably be at mine since Andy will be at Paige’s. We’re having loads of fun. His basketball practices are going well. You got the pictures I sent?”

“I did, thank you for sending them along. Any other news to report, or are you still holding out on me?” You could practically hear the smirk that was sure to be on his face.

“All I can say is that Andy is going to have an important question to ask you when you get back.”

“Can you give me any hints?”

“He…may want to start dating…”

“Brandon?!”

“No, actually, someone else, but I’ve said too much already. I told him he had to ask you if he even was allowed to date.”

“Oh, it’s so meaningless at this age, I don’t care, but thanks for telling him that.”

“It’s not totally meaningless. There was a boy that asked me out when I was in seventh grade, and I said yes because I thought I had a crush on him, and then I realized I wasn’t ready to date, so the next day I told him I didn’t want to. It was so awkward.”

“And…you remember all this?”

“Of course, a girl never forgets.”

“Changing subject a bit…um…are you still, uh, on the rag?”

“On the rag?!” You nearly cackle. “No, you idiot.”

“I didn’t know how else to phrase it!”

“Just ask me if I’m on my period or not.”

“It’s an awkward question to ask.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem fucking me when I’m ‘on the rag’.”

“Not at all. Makes me a real man if I say so myself.” You hum your response, not having the energy to say something sarcastic. “Are you in bed already?”

“I am, I was even listening to one of those bed time stories you’re always talking about.”

“Is it alright that I’m interrupting?”

“Mhm.”

“What are you wearing, Y/N?”

“One of your shirts, your Rolling Stones tee.”

“Ah, that’s a good one.”

“What about you?”

“Just my boxers.”

Harry’s voice was low, and gravely. It was sort of nice listening to it with your headphones in. Heating him in surround sound was raising goosebumps on your body. If you closed your eyes it would be like he was there next to you, talking into your ear.

“Harry, did you call to have phone sex with me?”

“Would you me mad if I did?”

“No…just wish I had one of my items here to help me along.”

“Guess you’ll have to do it the old fashioned way and use your hand.”

“What are we in medieval times?”

“Alas, fair maiden, it seems we are.” You giggle softly at him. God, he was so cute. “So, you’re okay with this?”

“Very okay with it.” You bite your bottom lip.

“Are you biting your lip?”

“Yes.” You hear him hum in understanding.

“Wish it was me doing it. I’d bite your lip and then nip across your jaw to your neck.”

“Oh, I like it when you do that. I’d like you bite every inch of me.” You smile. “You know what else I really like?”

“Tell me.”

“I like when you kiss on my tits, and then when you blow on my nipples once they’re all wet.”

“Yeah? Gets your nipples pretty hard, huh?”

“Mhm.” You lift your shirt up over your chest so you could rub your palm over one of your breasts.

“Please tell me you’re touching them.”

“I am.”

“I love your tits, Y/N. Love touching and kneading.”

“I like feeling your big hands on them, and then I like when one of your hands slides between my legs while you’re still kissing on them.”

“And you’re always so wet for me once I get there.”

“M’wet now, Harry.”

“Fuck.”

“How hard his your dick right now?”

“Very, it’s throbbing for you.”

“Why don’t you lick your palm and wrap your hand around yourself like I would. Want you to touch yourself while I am.” You hear some rustling, and then a grunt from him. “Love when you listen to me.”

“Love when you tell me what to do.” He grunts again. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m just moving my fingers around myself, feeling myself get more wet.”

“Put a finger inside and then drag it up to your clit.” He hears a soft moan come from you. “Good girl.” He breathes.

Your eyes snap open. He had never said that to you before. You kind of liked it.

“What’s that? I’m your good girl?”

“My very good girl.”

“Christ, Harry.” You groan as your fingers press circles into your clit. “Fuck, I wish you were here, want your mouth on me.”

“Where?”

“Right on my clit so you can suck on it.”

Harry’s tip was leaking so much now that he was able to spread his precome all over his length. It felt incredible, but it was nowhere near as good as being squeezed by your walls.

“I’d do that, and slip my fingers inside, pet that special spot.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Your back arches slightly as you imagine it. “Harry.” You whine.

“That’s it baby, say my name while you make yourself come.”

“Want you to come too.”

“I will once you do. Gotta hear you do it first.”

“Fuck, Harry.” You groan as you rub yourself faster. You were so drenched you had to kick all of the blankets off yourself. You plant your feet into the bed as you bend your legs at the knee. Your arch your back up to get a better angle, and god does it feel good.

“Bet you’re squeezing around nothing, just wishing I was there.” All he could hear was you grunting and moaning.

“Harry.” You grit your teeth. “I, I’m, oh fuck!” You press your face into the pillow so you can moan out, but keep it muffled.

“God.” He breathes. “Blew my load just listening to you, Y/N.”

“Harry.” You whimper. “I’m a mess now and you’re not even here to clean it up.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He chuckles slightly. “I’m a mess here too if that makes you feel better.”

“It does a little.” You giggle. “I really can’t wait to see you.”

“Me neither, my love.”

His words make you feel all warm and fuzzy.

“Well, unless you wanna listen to me pee, which I really hope you don’t because that’s just one kink I would have to shame you for, I think I should go.”

“Nope, no pee kink here, baby.” He laughs. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Sweet dreams.”

“Back at you.” You sigh and hang up the phone. There was something strangely erotic about getting yourself off alone in Harry’s bed. Calling you like that was sneaky, but you knew you’d sleep better, and he would too.

“Mm, hello?” You groan at 5AM when your phone goes off.

“Due to weather and road conditions, school is cancelled today.”

You sit up right away. You had no idea it was supposed to snow last night, and you also had no idea how to use Harry’s snow blower. You get up and throw your robe on, you needed to tell Andy there was no school. You quietly go into his room, and put your hand on his shoulder.

“Andy, sweetie, you have a snow day today.” You coo.

“M’kay.” He whispers sleepily.

You smile and leave his room so he can go back to sleep. You look outside and see it’s still dark. You figure you should go back to sleep as well. Yours and Harry’s cars were in the garage, so it wasn’t like you need to worry about digging them out. You could tackle the shoveling in a few hours.

You end up starting your day around eight, deciding that sweats would be most comfortable. You think Andy would enjoy some waffles for breakfast, so you get the batter going in the waffle maker. He appears from his room shortly after, the aroma being too intoxicating for him to stay in bed any longer.

“Morning.” He says, knuckling at his eyes.

“Morning, you hungry?”

“Mhm.” He smiles as she places a stack of waffles in front of him at the table. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome.”

“What kind of snow is it?”

“The powdery kind. I need to get out there soon to clean up the driveway. You don’t happen to know how to use the snow blower do you?”

“No idea. I usually stick to shoveling the walkways and the stairs.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out. How hard could it be?”

After twenty minutes of tinkering, you Googled how to start a snow blower, and found a video to watch. Once you got it going, it was pretty simple. You cleared the driveway of all the snow as Andy worked to clear the walkway to the front door.

“We make a pretty good team!” You say as you get the snow blower back in the garage.

“Yeah!”

You both head in through the garage and go into the basement to shed yourselves of your wet jackets, snow-pants, and boots.

Caroline: hey Andy! My sisters are taking me sledding since the roads aren’t too bad, do you wanna come?

Brandon: My dad’s gonna take me skiing today, do you wanna come?

“Shit.” Andy says to himself as he checks his phone.

“What’s up?” You ask him as you hand him a mug of hot chocolate.

“Both Caroline and Brandon invited me to do stuff with them…what should I do?”

“Who asked you first?”

“Caroline did…”

“Which activity would you rather do?”

“I’d rather go skiing, but I’d also like to hang out with Caroline…”

“Well, maybe you could go skiing with Brandon, and then meet up with Caroline later.” You shrug. “She could come over here and I could set a movie up for you in the living room, and I could sit up in the loft while you hang out.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t mind me being out all day with my friends?”

“Not at all, snow days are supposed to be fun, and the roads aren’t that bad right now.”

“You’re the best, Y/N!” Andy hugs you, and goes to text his friends.

Andy: Sure! I just need to a few minutes to get my gear together.

Brandon: Awesome! I’ll let my dad know, see you soon! Did Y/N want to come?

Andy: I’ll ask

“Y/N!”

“Yeah!”

“Did you want to come skiing?”

“Oh god.” You laugh. “No, I think I’ll save that for your dad, but thank you.”

Andy: she said thanks but no thanks lol

Brandon: okay lmao

Andy smiles and then goes to text Caroline.

Andy: Thanks for thinking of me, I’m actually going skiing with Brandon, but Y/N said you could come over for a movie later if you want???

Caroline: of course! Totally don’t blame you for wanting to go skiing. I’d love to come over later, I’ll ask my parents. Wanna just text me when you get home and we can figure it out from there?

Andy: sounds good to me ☺️

Caroline: ☺️☺️

“Okay, this should all work out.” Andy says to you. “I’m gonna get my stuff together.”

“Alright, will you just let me know once you’re there and all that. Text me updates so I know you didn’t split your head open. I don’t think your dad would like me very much anymore if that happened.”

“Yeah.” Andy laughs. “I think he’d take some brownie points away for sure.”

Andy was having a great time skiing with Brandon and his dad. After a couple of hours they all go into the lodge to get a quick lunch. Mr. Stewart goes up to order all the food while the boys sit at the table.

“Did you want to come back my house after? My mom’s making beef stew for dinner.”

“Aw man, I love your mom’s beef stew.” Andy pouts. “But I can’t, I have plans later.”

“Oh yeah? What are you up to?”

“Um…I invited Caroline over for a movie.”

“Oh.” Brandon’s face falls.

“But only because she invited me to go sledding today, and I said no I could ski with you.”

“Oh.” He perks back up. “What movie do you think you’ll watch?”

“I have no idea, I’ll probably let her decide. Any time me, my dad, and Y/N all watch a movie he always lets her decide.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes her happy.” He shrugs. “And then she’ll kiss him, and he likes that.”

“Right.” Brandon swallows. Before he can say anything else his dad comes over with the food.

You got a fuck ton of work done today, you were really proud of yourself. Harry’s loft was a perfect working space, even if you did miss your office at home. You hear Andy come in the door, and he shouts hello and that he’ll be in the shower. You chuckle to yourself and save what you’re working on for now.

Andy comes out a little while later just as you’re rifling through take out menus.

“I was thinking you could get something yummy for dinner. What do you think she’d like?”

“Pizza and mozzarella sticks sound safe.” He says.

“Alright, I’ll order it in a bit so it’s here when she is. I’m sure a lot of people are doing delivery tonight.”

“And you’ll just be upstairs?”

“Mhm, I don’t need to hover…just… you know, don’t sit on top of each other.”

He makes a face at you like he’s grossed out and then walks away from you. Not too long after the food arrives, so does Caroline.

“Thanks for getting all this, Y/N.” She says to you.

“Oh, you’re more than welcome. Did you two settle on a movie?”

“Cars.” Andy says. “Right, you wanna watch Cars?”

“Mhm.” She smiles.

“Okay, Cars it is.” You smile and set the movie up on Disney+. They both settle on the couch. “I’ll be right upstairs working if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” Andy says and watches you go upstairs. “I like this movie a lot, Brandon and I watch it all the time.”

“It’s one of my favorites. I don’t really like the sequels though.”

“Me either!”

“They suck.”

“Yeah.” Andy smiles.

“I really like Wall-E, too.”

“My dad and I watched that together for the first time a couple years ago and he cried.” Andy laughs.

“He did?!”

“Yeah! I have no idea why. He cries a lot when we watch movies, though.”

“He sounds funny, I can’t wait to meet him.” She smiles and turns her attention to the TV.

About halfway through the movie, once they were done eating, you noticed it had gotten a little quite, so you peer over the banister to see what was going on. They were simply entranced by the film, giggling occasionally. You smile and sit back down.

There was the part in the movie where the town comes back to life, and the cars all pair of to cruise together. Caroline sighs softly, and he hand brushes Andy’s. They both look down at their hands, and Andy makes a bold move in holding her, fingers intertwined and all. She smiles at him and blushes.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” She nods with a brighter smile.

“Cool.” He sighs with relief, and they continue the movie like that, holding hands.

You stand in the kitchen while Caroline gets her coat on after the movie ended and her oldest sister was in the car outside.

“Thanks again for having me, it was fun.”

“Anytime.”

She throws her arms around his neck to give him a hug, and out the door she goes. Andy sighs contently and walks into the kitchen with a huge smile on his face. He gives you a surprising hug.

“What was that for?”

“For being so cool to let us chill alone. Knowing my dad, he would have walked by every two seconds, or if I were at Mum’s she would have had Rachel watch the movie with us. We…we held hands, Y/N.”

“Oh my.” You smile. “Big step.”

“No kidding.” He agrees. “I…I need to go call Brandon.” He races into his room and closes the door.

Andy was so innocently sweet, and it warmed your heart like nothing else ever could.

“He was a perfect angel, honestly.” You say over the phone to Janette as you stuff your face with the ice cream you had in your freezer. “He’s very popular, and is always busy. No wonder Harry didn’t make time to date before, I’m exhausted.”

“Doing it alone is tough, but now he’s got a great partner to help him out.”

“I love helping. He and I didn’t have one single disagreement, and he listened to me the whole time.”

“Well, of course he did. You’re his dad’s girlfriend.”

“True, but I was really expecting him to try to get away with something.”

“He probably knew he couldn’t test you. Smart kid.”

You chuckle and talk with her more about her break is going. You survived two weeks with Andy. You kept him alive and well.

Later on, you were snuggled up on your couch in some sweats of Harry’s, and a blanket, watching TV. Your heart skips a beat when you hear the jingle of keys and you front door unlocking. Harry said he’d text you when he landed, and he hadn’t. You stand up and shuffle around, grabbing a fry pan and getting into a batting stance.

“Baby?! I’m back!” He stops short when he sees you ready to attack and then he bursts out laughing.

“Stop it! I thought you were a burglar!”

“So you stood there frozen?!”

“You can go home if you want, I’m not longer happy to see you.” You pout and put the pan on the counter.

“Don’t be like that, I missed you so much, come here.”

Your smile slowly grows on your face, and you jump into his arms. He picks you up and you wrap your legs around him, tucking your face into his neck, getting a good whiff of his cologne.

“How was your flight?” You mumble into him as he holds you close.

“Little bit of turbulence, but it was good.” He says as he starts walking you into your bedroom. “Couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Slept plenty on the plane and bus.”

He gets you on the bed, and kicks his shoes off before getting on with you. You both lay on your sides facing each other. He grabs your leg and puts it over his hip so he can slot his leg between yours, and then he pulls you close so you’re chest to chest. He moves some hair behind your ear.

“Hi.” He says with a big smile.

“Hi.” You smile back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He leans in and slots his mouth over yours, and your eyes flutter closed. You tug at his shirt to pull him even closer as you rock against the leg that’s between yours. His tongue drags along your bottom lip and you moan softly. He licks into your mouth and you’re met with his familiar minty taste. You tug him completely on top of you as you turn onto your back. You wanted his weight to just crush you.

“Baby.” He coos as he kisses from your jaw to your neck. He sucks on your soft skin and your hips buck up again. His leg moves further between yours and you gasp.

Your fingers lace through his hair and you tug as you grind against his thigh. You were feeling incredibly needy now that he was here with you, and not just a voice through the phone. You could feel him getting hard against her hip, so you reach into his joggers and start pumping him, getting a heft groan from him.

“Need you.” You breathe.

“Need to taste you first.” He says as shifts to tug your sweatpants off.

“No, please just fuck me, we can do all that afterwards.”

“I need to prep you first or it’ll hurt.”

“Harry, I’ve been fucking you for seven months, I’m perfectly adjusted.” He raises his eyebrows at you. “Okay, maybe not perfectly, but I’m feeling impatient so please.” She pouts at him and he physically can’t say no.

He doesn’t bother with your shirt, or his, he just gets his pants off, and you get yours off. He goes to get up in search for a condom, but you grab him and shake your head.

“Wanna feel you, just pull out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

His lips crash to yours as your legs open up for him. He lines himself up with you and rubs his tip along your clit. You were plenty wet for him. You both groan from the feeling. He slowly pushes inside you, and your head falls back from the stretch. Your mouth was hanging open trying to breathe to help yourself relax.

“Holy shit.” You say as he’s about halfway in.

“Three weeks in a long time, babe, let me take some time to just-“ He starts to pull out but your sink your nails into his ass.

“Just go for it.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, it’ll feel good. Just give it one good thrust.”

He bites his bottom lip and does as you say, bottoming out immediately. You choke out a gasp. It hurt a little, but it quickly turned to pleasure as you felt full for the first time in weeks. You tighten around him and he grits his teeth.

“I’ll come if you do that.”

“Sorry, go ahead, move, fuck me, Harry.”

He rocks in and out of you, and you pull him closer so his head is buried in your neck. You wrap your legs around his lower back, and get your hands up under his shirt so you can scratch and squeeze at him.

“You feel so fucking good.” He growls into your ear, and it makes your eyes roll back.

“So, so do you, fuck.”

He sits up slightly to get a better angle. He pushes one of your legs back, and lets the other lay flat, and your mouth falls open as he thrusts in and out of you.

“Oh my god, Harry!”

“Hold your leg up f’me.”

You do as he says immediately and hook your arm under your leg as he continues to fuck in and out of you. He was hitting your g-spot perfectly. You reach to rub your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Oh my fucking god, Harry, don’t stop.” You were panting already. “Fuck, fuck, please, don’t stop.”

You knew he wouldn’t dare, but you couldn’t think of what else to say. Tears were starting to form in your eyes because it just felt so fucking good.

“Oh, oh! Fuck!” Your back arches as you come to your release. You squeeze impossibly tight around him.

“Shit, Y/N!” Harry pulls out of you just in time and comes on your stomach, getting a little on your shirt, but your head was so fuzzy you didn’t care.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-oh!”

You look down and see Harry’s head between your legs. He really did want to taste you. He sucks on your clit and your hands go right back into his hair. You tug and squeeze with each stroke. He was moaning into you, and it was driving you crazy. You moan along with him as he gets both of your legs over his shoulders, your heels digging into his back.

“Harry.” You groan.

He was just focusing solely on your clit because he knew you’d be too sensitive for anything else, but he didn’t mind. You could tell he really just wanted to be close with you like this. The tip of his tongue makes circles on your clit and you feel like you go cross-eyed.

“That’s it, Harry, fuck, oh my god, that’s fucking it!” You cry out as you come and press his face further against you.

“Ride me.” He breathes. “Ride my face, I wanna keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

You nod and wait for him to get adjusted. You rip your shirt off so you can be fully naked for him. You center yourself on him, and gasp when you feel his tongue on your again. His fingers sink into the plushy skin of your ass, and you essentially move so you’re twerking on him, which you know he loves. He loves when you really just use him, he was like your person scratching post.

He had you screaming again in no time, he was pretty proud of himself. You inch down his body, and get his shirt off so you can kiss down his chest. You suck marks into his skin, lower and lower, leaving a nasty trail of love bites behind. He was hard again, so you lick up and down his shaft before taking him into your mouth. You suckle his tip with vigor, making nasty noises that was music to his ears. One of your hands massages his balls while the other scratches up and down his stomach.

“Fuck.” He groans as you take him deep, bobbing up and down. You look up at him as best you can and he runs a caring hand through your hair. “Let me come on your tits, Y/N.”

You smirk with him still in your mouth and then you let him go with a pop. You get in a better position between his legs and pump his wet dick furiously.

“Jesus Christ! Just like that, baby. I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!”

His come shoots in ribbons onto your chest, and you bask in the warmth it has at first. You kiss back up his body, smearing your chest onto his. You both giggle as your mouth reaches his again. He rolls you both back over so he’s on top again.

“Can’t get enough of you right now.” He says as he kisses the corner of your mouth. “Let me use one of your-“

“Harry, baby, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but let’s take a break, yeah?” You chuckle. “You’ve tuckered me out.”

“Mm, guess I’m a little tired too.” He kisses your cheek. “Could we go shower?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” You nod with a sigh.

You wobbled into the bathroom with him, and he gets the water going. Once it’s warm enough you both stand under the water, just holding each other for a bit. He kisses your neck and shoulder occasionally, and you run your hands through his hair. You take turns washing each other up before you get out and towel off.

You cuddle up in bed with your head on his chest, just listening to his heart beat for bit with his fingers lightly stroking your back. You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him.

“Yes?”

“You sure got excited earlier, huh?”

“Couldn’t help it, just missed you so much. Do you feel okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m sure I’ll be a little sore, but it’s alright.” You smile. “Did you have a good time with your family?”

“I did, I feel really recharged. It’s always nice being home. Maybe, um, maybe next year you’d like to try coming with me?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You grin. He sit up a little and so do you. He puts his arm around you and kisses your temple.

“So, you really won’t tell me much about your two weeks with Andy?”

“I told you everything I could. What we ate for meals, how his basketball practices went…oh! We had a snow day and he went skiing with Brandon. I even used the snow blower.”

“You did?!”

“I did.”

“Bet you looked pretty hot.”

“Oh, stop.” You swat at his chest.

“But seriously…”

“You’ll have to talk with him tomorrow when you pick him up.” You bite your bottom lip. “He held hands with the girl, Caroline.”

“Wow.” He blinks a few times. “I wonder if he still might like Brandon.”

“He’s very confused, but I think it’s important to let him sort of test the waters. He said he never really thought girls were pretty before, but he thinks she’s really pretty.”

“God, I’m gonna have to have the talk with him.” He groans. “It was awkward enough when I got him that puberty book.”

“It’s not like you have to go in depth, you just need to remind him to be respectful.”

“You don’t understand…when boys start going through all this…things can get sticky.”

“Ew, enough said.” You both laugh. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too.”

Sunday morning, you drop Harry off at his place so he can unpack and get himself settled before going to pick Andy up. He exchanges pleasantries with Paige, and then on the road he goes.

“How come we’re taking the long way home?”

“Because we need to chat about some things.”

“What did Y/N tell you?” He rolls his eyes.

“Not much, honestly. Apparently you have a new friend, though.”

“Yeah, her name’s Caroline. She’s new to the school, her and her family just moved here from Maine. She came over to watch a movie the other day and we held hands…she even shared her cosmic brownie with me, Dad, I think we like each other, but…I feel guilty about Brandon.”

“Andy…how do you feel about Brandon, exactly?”

“I don’t know.” He mumbles. “It’s like…it’s like Brandon’s like an oo, and Caroline’s like an ah. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense.” He sighs.

“It does?”

“Yeah…so…you held hands with Caroline?”

“Yeah, it was really nice. Would it be alright if I asked her out?”

“Didn’t you already do that by asking her over for a movie?” Harry chuckles.

“No, I mean…I think I wanna date her. I wanna see if she’ll be my girlfriend.”

“Do you think you’re ready for a girlfriend? It’s a lot of responsibility.”

“It is?”

“Sure! Gotta treat whoever you date really nice, give them a lot of respect.”

“I do respect her. I asked her if it was okay while we were holding hands.”

“Thatta boy.” Harry says proudly. “Always ask before you touch, and if they say no, that means no.”

“I know, Dad.”

“Andy, that’s something I’m gonna say over and over to you for the rest of my life, so get used to it.”

“Did you date a lot of people when you were younger?”

“Um…not really. I mean, I had a couple of girlfriends in secondary school, and I dated a girl at uni in London before I came here and met Mum. So…you’d rather go for it with a girl you barely know rather than with Brandon?”

“I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Brandon, Dad…and I’m scared. Caroline doesn’t make me feel scared.”

“Well…if you’d really like to ask her out, I suppose it’s alright.”

“Really?!”

“Sure, we could go on a double date even. Ice skating, maybe?”

“Dad, you’re the coolest! I can’t wait to call her later.”

“You’re gonna ask her out over the phone? Don’t you wanna do it in person?”

“Get with it, Dad.” Andy scoffs. “Everything’s done over the phone now.”

“Well, excuse me.”

“I think you’ll like her, she’s so nice.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“She always smells like cherries too.” Andy sighs.

“You’ve got it bad for her, huh?”

“I’ve never felt this way about a girl before. I think I’m finally catching up with everyone.”

“It’s not a race, son.”

“Sometimes it feels like it is. Whatever, I just feel good about it, about her.”

“Alright.”

“I really liked staying with Y/N.”

“She said she had a great time with you.”

“Do you think you’ll ask her to move in with us?”

“Would like me to?”

“Yeah…I want her around more.”

“Me too.” Harry smiles. “I think I’ll ask her soon, maybe when the weather gets a little warmer.”

“She still needs to learn to ski. You should ask her to come with us to the cabin for February break.”

“I think Mum was hoping to do another family trip…”

“So, Y/N’s family now.”

“I’m happy you feel that way, but I don’t know how comfortable she’d feel doing something like that for an entire week.”

“You won’t know unless you ask.”

#harry styles #office neighbors #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

618 notes · View notes