#yes i am writing this in a frenzy before i run out the door... finishing up the aforementioned non-kosher veggie lasagna. lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beyondspaceandstars · 4 years ago

Text

A Simple Housewife

Relationship: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader AU Warnings: non-graphic violence, angst Summary: Mob!AU - A new member starts getting too friendly with you one night, forcing Bucky to show a side of himself you’ve never seen before. And possibly never want to see again. A/N: in my list of favorite AUs right under soulmate!au is mob!au........idk why i can’t explain it but I love it it’s such good content. and i realized well i can contribute to it as a genre so here I am lmao. (also, for reference, the work contains college-age peter parker - i aged him up fyi)

Masterlist

You liked how you two worked as a team. Bucky liked to hold meetings at your home, and you liked to host them. It was an unspoken agreement every time he’d come home and rattle off who was going to be around the next night.

These instances always sent you into a frenzy, but a good kind of frenzy. It gave you something to do. While a simple housewife per your husband’s request, these events meant you could fill your days planning menus, table settings, wine pairings, grocery shopping… It was therapeutic in some ways and even nicer knowing it would be appreciated.

His men loved to fawn over your perfectly cooked food or premium hand-picked wine and you simply adored it. While it sometimes rubbed Bucky the wrong way seeing you all giggly over compliments from other men, he typically let it slide. It was never very serious and certainly never went beyond sweet comments. You embraced your hosting duties while pretending to ignore the conversations that would go on in the next room after the meal, much to Bucky’s content.

The night had started like any other. Bucky came home the previous day and told you there was going to be a meeting tomorrow night and to expect to host ten of his men. That seemed like such a smaller crowd than he normally had over, so you inquired, curious.

"Only ten?" You asked, already rushing to grab your pen and paper for the planning.

Bucky nodded, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, we’ve got someone new coming on and I don’t want to overwhelm him."

"A new guy?" Your eyes lit up. "You mean someone who hasn’t tasted my lasagna?"

Your husband couldn’t hold back the chuckle at your innocent awe. Moments like these made him wonder how someone so warm could ever deal with someone like him.

You weren’t totally clueless about his career, you knew at least a general description of what he did for a living, but, on the other hand, you hadn’t ever seen it. You roughly knew there were… multiple sides to him but those all seemed so distant, so pointless, at the time. In this home, with you, he was just Bucky. Your Bucky. Your husband. The one who showered you with love and appreciation.

"Yes, doll," your husband confirmed. "There’s someone who hasn’t had your famous lasagna."

"Wonderful!" You clapped and started writing out the menu. "Are there any requests? I certainly don’t want to mess anything up. God forbid the new guy thinks I’m a bad host or something."

You heard Bucky sigh as you continued making your notes. A hand came to your shoulder softly, halting your actions. You turned to face your husband, who was looking down at you with a soft smile, easing your worries nearly completely.

"Everything is going to be just fine," he said, placing a loving kiss on your forehead. You helplessly melted into the touch. "There’s nothing to worry about."

***

You were running around the kitchen like a mad man when Bucky came home the next night with a couple of men already following behind. He called out to greet you like some cheesy sitcom entrance. You force yourself to halt your panic, knowing it was in your best interest to go greet him and the first guests. Smoothing out your apron, you double-checked nothing would explode in flames upon your absence and made your way to the foyer.

"Hi, honey," you smiled as your eyes landed on your well-dressed, sophisticated-looking husband. For all the time spent together, he never did fail to make you swoon simply by just standing there.

"Hey, doll." Bucky matched your smile and gave you a kiss on the cheek knowing you would stress even more if he dared to smudge your lipstick.

When you two parted, your eyes wandered over your husband’s shoulder to the two men standing in front of the door. The one staring at you two exchanging welcomes you recognized right away as your husband’s right-hand-man Steve. Ever so strong and important looking.

But the boy standing next to Steve was a mystery. He was a bit smaller than them both but still had some height on you. This didn’t take away, though, from this timid look. He gazed around your home seeming so in awe of it all. He didn’t realize you were staring at him until Steve nudged him.

Bucky picked up on your curiosity and immediately jumped into introductions. Motioning towards the boy, "This is Peter. He’s the new member I was telling you about."

"Oh, of course," You smiled, outstretching your hand. Peter accepted the shake, a little on the enthusiastic side. "Very nice to meet you."

"It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Barnes." The boy responded, holding slightly too much eye-contact, but you couldn’t blame him.

Your hands disconnected and you chuckled at the formalities, waving a hand in dismissal. You told him to call you by your first name. "The whole misses thing feels so serious," you insisted.

Peter just smiled, a twinkle in his eyes almost. He seemed to relax at your casualness. After the introductions, you led the men into the front room, offering up drinks and hors d’oeuvres. They helped themselves as you started to make your way back to the kitchen. For some reason, you decided to look back at the group. Your eyes met Peter’s immediately. The other men didn’t seem to notice, engrossed in some conversation as they poured their beverages. You simply smiled at the boy and headed back to the food.

It wasn’t too long after the first arrivals that the rest of the members started arriving. You didn’t have time to personally greet them all but Bucky assured you that was never necessary. You two had your own things to run, he liked to joke.

With everything places — food, silverware, centerpieces — you called the men into the dining room. They oohed and awed at the spread of lasagna, bread, veggies… All food groups were represented, you thought. As predicted, they began praising you for the meal as if it was the first time in their life that they’d ever eaten and it made you giggle. These were some of the toughest people you’d ever known and yet a simple baking dish of pasta and sauce could amaze them.

Once everyone was seated and digging in, you took your seat at the other end of the table, directly across from Bucky. As you began passing around the bread, you surprisingly found Peter sitting next to you.

"They made you sit down at this end?" You asked, handing him the breadbasket. Usually, the members dreaded sitting near the wife. While they were all so kind, in moments like these, they’d rather be at the other end looking so important.

"New guy," Peter shrugged, taking a piece of bread and moving it along.

"I thought this meeting was, like, for you," you said, cutting into the slice of lasagna one of the other men were so kind to serve you.

"No," he shook his head, beginning to eat. "At least that’s not how Mr. Barnes described it. Doesn’t matter, though. It’s just nice to be here."

You smiled, delighted by his optimism, having not seen many new members in your time with Bucky. "I hope the foods okay. I got nervous when Bucky said there’d be someone new coming around."

Peter scoffed as if finding your worry crazy which eased your mind a little. He took another bite of food. "This is easily one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time."

"Thank you, Peter," you said, taking a sip of your wine. Peter copied your motion, looking at you above the wine glass rim as he sipped.

"You did everything, yeah?" He asked, holding his wine while motioning towards the tables and surroundings. "Foods, plates, all of it?"

You nodded, probably coming off a bit more eager than you should’ve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Sure, Bucky’s guests loved to compliment your cooking but no one ever acknowledged the other pieces put into the meal.

"I try to change the table setting every season," you said, "and I like the food to be seasonal, too. There are some lovely markets around and I just adore browsing them… Oh! And the centerpieces, I got the flowers there, too…"

Your rambling died down as you caught Bucky staring at you from the other end of the table. One guy was trying to talk his ear off but he seemed interested in your conversation. Curiously, you started eying your husband back as you picked at your food. His face held an unreadable expression but, eventually, his eyes left yours and were now more focused on the one sitting next to you.

Appearing oblivious, Peter continued the conversation. "Well, I think the flowers are a nice touch," he said. "Pretty flowers picked by a pretty girl."

Your heart skipped a little at that comment. You couldn’t ignore the fact it was quite bold. While you were away of the gazes you got sometimes and the possibility you were talked about behind the scenes but to say it here? At the dinner table? With your husband just in earshot?

But at the same time, you had to consider, he was nice and probably just trying to butter you up hoping for a good word put in with the bossman. There was no doubt people thought they could get to Bucky through you but, in reality, you didn’t stick your hands in any of it. Nope, you just married into it.

Not completely sure how to respond, you simply accepted the compliment, "Well, thank you. That’s very sweet."

Peter smiled at your words, looking a bit proud of himself. You turned back to your plate and tried to eat your meal in silence.

Once everyone was finished, the group started making their way out of the dining room. You shooed them, promising to be out with coffee in a bit.

You were deep into cleaning, having finally carried all the dishes from the dining room to the kitchen when someone entered.

At first, you didn’t explicitly hear them as the faucet was running heavy from your battle of scrubbing dishes. Suddenly, you could sense a presence right behind you at the sink. Turning around, you nearly jumped out of your skin as you came face-to-face with Peter, looking almost amused at scaring you. You were surprised and also… not surprised.

"Sorry," you let out a breathy chuckle. "I didn’t hear you come in."

"That’s okay," he said and motioned towards the dirty plates lining the counter. "Do you need any help?"

"Oh," you frowned. "Shouldn’t you be in the meeting with everyone else?

He shook his head, "Mr. Barnes doesn’t want to start until he’s had coffee."

"Well, you can let him know it’s brewing away," you said, trying to keep your tone serious as you could. You turned back to the sink, praying he got the hint.

He hadn’t, you realized, as Peter came around to stand at your side, leaning against the counter. He stood, arms crossed, watching you.

It was weird — actually, this entire situation was weird. You didn’t think anyone but you or your husband had been in this kitchen before let alone actually know where it was in your home.

Despite how odd you found it, the last thing you wanted to be was rude. You didn’t want to think about what could ensue from your husband losing a guy.

"It’s kind of sad, Mrs. Barnes," Peter crossed his arms, seemingly ignoring your previous request to call you by your first name. You glanced at him, confused. "You’re so kind to do all this and none of them even offer to help you clean up."

"Oh, no, It’s okay-,"

"It’s really sad," He repeated, completely cutting off your attempt at a defense. You frowned and went back to cleaning the plates, praying your attempt to ignore him would encourage him to walk out. There was a weird feeling growing in your gut.

"Such a pretty girl shouldn’t have to do so much," Peter said, softly. "It’s not fair to you."

And that’s when you felt it. His hand slowly came up to rest on your lower back. You immediately tensed under his touch, mind spinning. What the hell had you ended up in? Should you have tried harder to get him out? Gosh, but he seemed so harmless-

His hand started inching upward and then back down, creeping a little lower each time with the motion. With your stance frozen, all you could do was focus on the soapy water in the sink, unsure of your next move. He took the hesitance as a chance to close the gap between you two. A few more shifts and he could have you fully pressed against the sink.

But before you could even ponder about his next move, the swinging kitchen door busted open. You both flinched at the sudden noise but Peter didn’t seem to move. You looked over to find it was Bucky in the doorway, gun drawn and pointed directly at Peter.

Your heart sank when you saw the weapon. Sure, you knew there was weaponry stored in the home but you had never definitely seen it. You could sometimes make out outlines of guns in suit pockets but now you were on the other end of one. While it wasn’t meant for you, with your poor positioning, a single shot and you could be taken down. And by your husband-

"What the fuck are you doing?" Bucky finally spoke, never taking his eyes off the person nearly towering over you. The gun was very steady, just like his words. But everything else about him was unlike anything you’d ever witnessed before. His eyes were dark, his features so harsh. This felt like a man you had never seen before.

"We were just talking," Peter answered. His voice was casual but you could feel a slight tremor in his hand. Or maybe that was just your body shaking uncontrollably. You couldn’t tell. "I offered to help her clean up."

Bucky cocked the gun. "Get your hands off her."

"Honey," you spoke softly, your voice slightly cracking from the tears that were beginning to form. "Please put the gun down."

"Not until he gets his hands off you, doll."

"Bucky, please." He wouldn’t look at you. He was determined to look beyond you and it scared you to death.

"You have five seconds to back away from her," Bucky took a step closer. "Or I’ll be forced to mess up my girl’s lovely kitchen."

You gasped at the sharpness in his voice, the entire darkness of it all. You started begging under your breath, hoping whoever or whatever heard the helpless prayers.

Finally, after what felt like hours to you, Peter stepped away from you. You turned to look back at the copy water where your hands were still submerged. They shook as you removed them and you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

Regaining some composure, you backed away from the sink and turned to your husband. Bucky still had the gun pointed at Peter, completely focused on him. Slowly, you approached him, your hands raised as if surrendering. You just needed to get the gun put away and then you could run to your room for some solitude. Fuck the other people probably oblivious, just relaxing and joking in your front room. This was typical business for them, they probably encountered your husband’s dark demeanor day in and day out, but this was going to take a toll on you.

"Honey, his hands are off of me," you whispered, slowly tiptoeing closer. "Put down the gun."

"He put his hands on you, doll," Bucky was answering you but he somehow sounded so distant, so consumed. "I let someone into this house that was going to do God knows what to you."

"No, no," you shook your head and you meant it. You didn’t think Peter was totally malicious. Just someone with a crush, high off excitement in a new place. "I really don’t think he meant harm."

"You’re too kind," Bucky scoffed. "You’re too kind, too innocent, too naive-,"

He held the gun stronger, seemingly preparing to shoot any second now. You were at the end of your rope with the realization. The waterworks were flowering uncontrollably now.

"James," you said, anger breaking through the tears. He seemed to freeze ever so slightly at your usage of his first name. "You really want to do this in front of your wife?"

Something clicked. You could feel it, you knew it. He didn’t answer and instead slowly lowered the weapon, placing it on the counter. Your husband turned to you. Seeing his opportunity, Peter sped past you two out of the kitchen. Neither of you really registered it. You were staring at one another, watching each other even begin to realize what had happened.

Now you were actually clueless. Were you meant to talk about this? Or did you just deal with it in time? The silence was killer but all your mind could focus on was the coffee machine that had gone silent, telling you it was done brewing. It was such a stupid, random thing to even focus on but you felt like your brain would explode if gave anything else the time of day.

"The coffee is ready for your meeting," you said, pulling off your apron and throwing it on the counter. Bucky watched you as stormed out of the kitchen, looking completely stunned and equally clueless.

You sat at your vanity in the bedroom. Thankfully you were able to avoid the front room, having no desire for anyone to see you in with mascara running down your cheeks.

You furiously scrubbed off your make-up despite it already almost off from the tears. Your emotions were just all over the place at this point. You didn’t know if you were angry, surprised, sad…

Mostly, you realized, you felt dumb. You could parade around being a little housewife, pretending she lived a normal life with a normal husband who had a normal job but that just wasn’t it. That wasn’t your reality in this moment. As much as you knew what his career entailed, seeing it up close like that was a whole new level. You thought you knew. You thought you knew so much.

You were just finishing changing out of your dress when the bedroom door opened. In the mirror, your angry eyes met Bucky’s worried ones. He entered slowly, shutting the door behind him. Part of you was pleased with this situation. He chose to check on you, pausing his meeting, but at the same time, you didn’t know if you could deal with anyone right now.

"How are you doing?" He finally spoke up, voice cutting through the tension.

You scoffed, "I just saw my husband pull a gun on a person in our fucking home."

Bucky shook his head and made his way over to the bed, where he sat at the edge, facing you. He wanted to get at you for swearing but much worse things had happened tonight that he didn’t know the point in it. Bucky never wanted to bring anything like that home.

He didn’t take care of that kind of "business" in this house. The meetings were routine, typically check-ins, but any deals or assignments were handled off the premises in fear of something turning ugly. He just wanted to keep you from that ugly. His sweet, soft wife who got excited over making lasagna and picking apples at the farmer’s market was never meant to be thrown into any of this. Especially not in the kind of way that just went down.

"I didn’t mean for that to happen," Bucky said. You rolled your eyes and turned quickly in your chair to face him. He ignored your attitude. "He had his hands on you. He was practically on top of you. Do you understand that? Please tell me you understand how that would make me angry."

"God, Bucky, you pulled a gun on an unarmed person!" You exclaimed. "I understand you were upset, I completely get that, but what… What was that? Who was that?"

His head tilted, confused, questioning. You shook your head in disbelief. Did he not even realize the mode he went into? The whole other person he seemed to encompass in those few minutes?

"You… you weren’t yourself," you mumbled and averted your gaze to your fingers which were fidgeting, restless. "You were scary. Disconnected. I didn’t know that person."

Bucky didn’t say anything at first. He got up from the bed and walked over to where you were seated at your vanity. He crouched down, trying to get you to look at him. Your heart pounded furiously at his close presence.

"You shouldn’t have seen that," He said. "You shouldn’t have seen any of that, doll."

His hands came to grasp yours. You wanted to pull away but you weren’t fast enough. He gripped your hands firmly as if scared you were going to vanish. Your head was swimming with even more confusion as he avoided your questioning.

"Can you even explain yourself?" You asked, finally looking up at him. Bucky’s worry seemed to have melted away and was replaced by something you once again couldn’t put your finger on.

He shook his head. The grip on your hands got tighter. "You have to understand when things come up I must act accordingly."

You didn’t understand but you had to understand. You knew you did. He was right. While jarring, that other side of Bucky did exist out there and he was probably the reason he could be so successful. And while that was something you could work on accepting, you didn’t want to see it in your home.

But for now, you didn’t want to deal with it. Emotions for you both were running high and there was no telling what could come out of your mouth anymore. You’d come back to it and work it out. There was no way you could avoid it. You didn’t think you could ever be scrubbed clean of what you saw.

"Okay," you mumbled and felt his hold on your hands loosen. "Just… Please don’t bring your work home for the time being. We can discuss this in the morning."

Bucky nodded, running his hand from your hands to your shoulder, lovingly. He mumbled okay and you sighed in relief.

For a second you wanted to just sit there, engrossed in the comfort his touch was bringing, completely and fully enjoy that you had your Bucky back, but then your brain remembered the people downstairs.

"Oh, honey," you said, "the guys are probably waiting for you."

"No," Bucky’s head shook. "I sent them home. You’re more important."

You melted at the words. Yes. Confirmed. Your Bucky was back to you. The man you loved and gave everything. He was putting you first.

"You didn’t need to do that," you mumbled, bashfully. Bucky chuckled at your reaction.

"Of course I did," he insisted. "I was worried. I never wanted you to see that. You didn’t sign up for that."

"No, Bucky, I really didn’t," you shook your head.

He sighed, "And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

You looked down again, suddenly worried you were putting too much guilt on him but at the same time, that felt silly to even consider. You weren’t sure anymore. The day was overwhelming as the minutes continued.

"Could we just go to bed now?"

Bucky removed his hands from your shoulders and stood, allowing you to get out of the chair and make your way to the bed, under the fluffy comforter. Your husband watched, waiting until you were comfortable.

"I’ve got a few phone calls to make but then I’ll come to bed, okay?"

You nodded, eyes shut already halfway into your dream world. You heard Bucky chuckle as he turned out the lights and shut the door quietly.

You lulled yourself to sleep, head still spinning from the earlier acts. The whiplash your husband gave you was starting to catch up but how much more could you think about it? It’d come back and you’d have to deal but for now, you could pretend. At least while you slept, you could go back to putting that distance between yourself and any side of Bucky that wasn’t husband Bucky. For just a bit, you could pretend you didn’t know so much.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

taglist note: i chose not to tag in this work b/c it is an AU and was unsure if people were comfortable with being tagged in such.

961 notes · View notes

p-antomime · 4 years ago

Text

dawn addiction.

— minors don't interact.

— wc: 3,3K

content + warnings: 18+, including: car sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, public sex (kinda of), unprotected sex, tummy bulge, pet names (dabi actually calls the reader "princess"), virginity loss (only mentioned), i bit of fluff bye

pairings: no quirk!dabi x fem!reader

— song: Press Your Number; by TAEMIN

After waking up alone one dark night without you sleeping next to him in the spacious bed placed in the middle of his room, Dabi catches himself thinking about you and feeling strange without having your warm body next to his in the bed. Thinking about Y/N was becoming a vicious habit for him and it was the kind of addiction that the more he fed, the more it seemed to swallow his sanity. However, he didn't blame you for not wanting to be seen or related to him, in a small town like the two of you Touya was the delinquent that people avoided interacting with lest they be excluded from that closed society.

He stretches to the side in order to get his own phone from the small table placed on the side of his bed and finds himself standing there for a few seconds feeling the smell of your body that permeated the pillow next to him. After taking a deep inhale, Dabi unlocks his cell phone to try to call you, but there is no answer, after all, it was past 1:00 AM in the dawn and Y/N was now probably lying in her own bed in her house trying to sleep.

The dark haired man lets out an impatient grunt before dropping the cell phone on the bed. He was deeply rooted in you and, because of that, feeling like an insane madman who was insisting on something that couldn't be his. But what could he do but fall in love with you after kissing your lips countless times and spreading your legs dangerously wide for him before claiming your virginity as his?

And the end of that night, just like all the others where you would finish fucking and you would shamefully put on your clothes to go home, would be filled by him masturbating with the thought of your naked body running through his mind.

Touya could feel the warm temperature of yours with little mental effort with his own fingers and would cling to the fading memories of the few non-sexual moments you had shared over the past few months.

That night, Dabi slept when the sun was already up, but Y/N, on the other hand, didn't even sleep a wink. She couldn't even take a lousy nap, because her eyes were glued to her cell phone screen waiting to see if he would call her again because on the first call of the night she wasn't brave enough to answer knowing that her parents were half a wall away. A coward? Yes, that's what she was. But there was a perfect daughter demeanor that she needed to maintain, especially if she wanted to continue to nurture her father's idea of letting her start studying at a university in the metropolitan area of the country.

Y/N would turn twenty a week from today — and if her father's promise to give you a car came true, her plan was already halfway done — and she didn't want to be stuck in that small, rural town forever. She had big dreams, and, ironically, in most of them the fulminating image of Dabi was present beside her. What if she was the only one there who wanted to leave that life? What if he didn't want to leave with her? But more importantly, at what point had their relationship become so deep?

It was now 7 o'clock in the morning, which meant that in about two hours your parents would wake up to go to work. You took a deep breath and reached out to grab the cell phone lying next to you on the bed, and then began to type a message as brief and vague as possible to your lover:

"Pack up all your stuff by next Friday. Take everything that you think is important or of value to you, pack it up, and meet me on the other side of the bridge that leads to the avenue out of town, the side that has the rusty 'Welcome to our town' sign. At two o'clock in the morning. No delays. And please try not to draw too much attention, wear the most decent, neutral clothes you have in your closet. Oh, and bring documents."

And all week long you could barely look your parents in the face without feeling guilty for wanting to break free from their protective arms, but you just couldn't take it anymore. You hated that small town, and you also hated being forced to go to church every Thursday and Sunday with your mother because she said that God would "bless you with all your dreams come true," so why didn't he just indirectly help you leave that town behind? Literally, the only thing holding you back in that town was Touya and you wanted to take him with you outside the boundaries of that town that looked more like a village forgotten by the rest of the world.

Y/N's favorite place to be was Dabi's lips, and even then, the girl's replies to him by messages and short calls that didn't last more than 5 minutes started to decrease drastically. The useless monologues continue to increase inside her mind. Until the Thursday before her birthday when Y/N was about to fall asleep after standing for almost 2 hours listening to the local church mass hoping that her mother would not notice her slouching and irritable posture, suddenly a sound of something banging against her bedroom window was heard. And initially she didn't bother to get up to find out what had caused the noise, until she heard it twice more and frowned as she got out of bed after seeing that it was almost two o'clock in the dawn.

You drew the curtains in front of the window, opened it and stuck your head out, looking down and suddenly feeling your cheeks heat up violently. And there was Touya looking at you with a look of sorrow and animosity. He pointed in the direction of the hidden backyard behind your house where the two of you in the beginning of your relationship used to hide just to spend some time together or have a make-out session that ended up leaving both of you sexually frustrated because neither of you had the courage to have sex in that place where anyone could see you if you made too much noise. However, Dabi was the devil in your life worth sinning for.

— What the fuck are you doing here? — Y/N asked almost desperately as she felt Touya wrap one of his arms around her waist to glue their bodies together.

— What? Can't a man miss his beloved and want to go see her? — He asked, holding her face with his free hand. — You barely answer my messages.

— I told you we were going to meet tomorrow, on Friday. — You rested your hands on his chest to move away just enough to look him in the face.

— And about that, you're killing me with curiosity, princess. What are you thinking of doing tomorrow? It's your birthday. — Dabi commented, running his thumb along her bottom lip affectionately.

— I-I know. — You replied, looking away. — I was planning on... going out... with you. — You just didn't say it was going to be an out-of-town trip with no intention of coming back.

— What are you hiding? — He asked, leaning down to place a simple, tender kiss on her lips.

— Would you follow me wherever I went?

— I would follow you to the ends of hell if you asked me to. — Dabi answered, and instinctively you grabbed his face to place your lips back on theirs in a kiss deeper than the one before in a frenzy of feeling.

— Then do it. — Y/N whispered against his lips staring into his beautiful turquoise eyes. — For my birthday the only thing I ask from you is to always be by my side, I don't need material gifts.

Seconds after you finished speaking, the sound of footsteps inside your house could be heard, and a shiver ran down your back as your hands desperately pushed Dabi away in the direction of the very door through which the two of you had entered the yard.

— Damn, not even at dawn I... — Touya began to complain as he walked briskly away from you and disappeared into the darkness of the night to return to his house.

— Shhh, shut up. I'll see you at dawn. Two o'clock, don't forget. — You whispered loud enough for him to hear you as you turned back and faced the back door of your house slowly opening to reveal to you the sleepy figure of your father.

— Honey? — He asked, and you gasped as if you were distracted by something while you could hear your heart beating rapidly. — What are you doing out here? It's late? and cold, you might catch cold.

— I... — Y/N looked around just to make sure there was no more sign of Dabi. — I heard a noise here when I went down to get some water and just wanted to come down and see if it wasn't an animal or something. But it was nothing, I guess it was just my mind playing with me. — It was a good enough lie considering that it wasn't hard to wake up during the night to go to the bathroom or eat something from the fridge.

And then your father called you inside and you promptly went. As the day went on, not even your father's birthday present with the car seemed to quell the anxiety inside you of going to see Dabi in the middle of the night with no intention of coming home. Y/N packed three backpacks and after watching your parents go to sleep, put them all on the back seats of the car after grabbing the keys that your father had left on top of the coffee table in the living room, and also grabbing some money from your father's safe that was in a secluded room in the residence.

After writing a short, albeit long, letter explaining to her mother that she was going to the metropolitan city — but without saying with whom — to try a new life there and that you would be fine because "there were friends waiting for you there" — which was a big lie, but she didn't need to know that — Y/N put on a sweatshirt and ran out of her now former home. Remembering all the various driving lessons her mother had made her take last year, you put the key in the ignition and made sure that your license and other documents were in one of the pockets of the three backpacks on the back seats. And you set off across town to reach the end of the bridge that served as both a gateway into and out of the city, parking exactly beside the welcome sign.

After about fifteen minutes, you watched a silhouette approach through the darkness, and if you didn't recognize the blue-toned sweatshirt with white details that Dabi usually wore when he didn't want to attract attention, you would surely lock yourself inside your car for fear that it was some sexual predator. Before he could finish approaching you at the agreed upon spot and open his mouth to vocalize something, you ran toward him to jump into his arms and kiss him fervently like you hadn't done in almost two weeks. He didn't fight your grip and responded to your display of affection instantly, he missed your touch more than he would admit.

— Where are we going? — He asked, analyzing her new car as he watched you open the back seat door and gestured for him to put his own belongings inside.

— To the big city. — You answered unlocking the door next to the driver's seat after hearing Dabi choke on his own saliva looking at you as if he hadn't heard you correctly. — Come in. — Your head swiveled inward.

— What do you mean we're going to the city? What about your parents? You have a loving family here, I have nothing to lose, but you? — Dabi put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

— I want to go to the city. I want to live with you. — Y/N replied feeling her cheeks heat up and looking at him expectantly. — You said you would go anywhere with me, to the ends of hell.

— And I will, but this decision... — You interrupted him.

— Please. For once in my life I want to do things my way. Without having to hide you from anyone, without having anyone judge me for being with you. Let's go to another city, live together, we'll figure it out when we get there. — You put one hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently.

Touya took a few seconds to process the information and after looking from you to the car, he said:

— Where are the keys? — You waved them in front of him, flashing an amused smile. — So get in the car, doll face. I'll drive. — He gave you a light slap on the butt before pushing you toward the driver's seat, getting into the car and putting the key in the ignition. — How long until we reach the city?

— About six hours, we can get there in the morning.

— Great. — Dabi started the car and began to drive along the deserted road while resting one hand on Y/N’s covered thigh and occasionally giving the area a gentle squeeze.

After about an hour of driving, you became distracted by fiddling with your cell phone until you noticed his long fingers sneaking up and over your thighs until they came dangerously close to Dabi's real intended destination. Her eyes cast a serious countenance at him as if she were silently saying: "Don't you dare" and in response his lips parted in a defiant smile as his hand on the steering wheel slowed and eventually brought the car to a full stop.

— C'mon. It's been almost two weeks since we had sex. — He said, lowering the two seats you were sitting on and pulling you to sit on his lap with your back against the steering wheel.

— And the best place you could find to have sex was inside my new car? — Despite your complaint, you didn't try to restrain his hands from reaching into your sweatshirt to grab and squeeze your breasts, nor did you object to the feeling of his knee pressing against the middle of your legs.

Touya lifts your arms and pulls up your sweatshirt and then concentrates on removing the simple tank top and lacy bra you were wearing, shortly after which he leans over your body to take one of your nipples between his lips to begin stimulating it. In response, you rub your hips against his leg as your hands grip his dark hair as a way to relieve the growing tension settling through your body. His hands slowly slid down your back, past your waist and into your pants, while his right hand also invaded your panties to run his fingers over your pussy lips and his left was busy opening the buttons of that garment.

Y/N put her hands on the hem of his sweatshirt, pulled it up, and was not surprised to see him with nothing underneath. Strangely enough, his skin was naturally too warm and it was not hard to believe that even with the low temperature outside the car he would only need a casual sweatshirt to not feel cold. And that was exactly why you liked so much to run your hands along his body exploring him calmly to make your touches last longer.

Dabi turned his body so that you were lying on the passenger seat and stood over you with a smug smile as his hands dug in and squeezed the skin of your legs after he finished getting rid of your pants with some difficulty because of the tight space.

— Keep your legs open for me or I won't let you cum, princess. — He whispered, sliding his mouth down her torso to her pelvis and pulling her hips up as high as possible before burying his fingers inside her pussy and enveloping her clit with his lips.

Y/N's hands gripped Touya's now messy hair and pushed his face against her hip in search of more of that mind-blowing pleasure she had missed for the few days she had been avoiding him. Suddenly the car became extremely hot, almost to the point where you both felt suffocated and ironically neither of you cared about that, not when Dabi was curving his fingers and sucking your clit in the way that always made your vision cloud and too loud moans escape your mouth. But, you didn't want to cum in his mouth, so your hands moved his face away from your hips and pulled his body up.

— Please, Touya, I need you inside me. — Her voice was slurred by her rapid breathing.

Dabi didn't need you to say anything else, he just stepped back briefly to get rid of the clothes that were still covering his lower body, adjusted your hips to his, leaned on the car door behind your body and guided his cock to the entrance of your pussy. As you felt him fill and enlarge you completely with his tip rubbing against your cervix, you groaned, leaning on his shoulders to face him and watching the small rise against your belly that was always present when that black haired man penetrated you.

Touya slid one hand down your neck and closed his fingers around your neck applying just the right amount of pressure to make waves of pleasure run through your body and not to hurt you. He began to move and Y/N passed her legs around his waist moving her body downward every time Dabi moved upward, occasionally he would take her lips on his just because he liked to feel her moans against his mouth and the rhythm of his hips gradually began to get harder and faster.

— I should cum inside you, hmm? — Touya asked, keeping eye contact with you every moment he thrust inside you again and making you clench your walls around his length without you even realizing it. — Damn, I love you so much, you have no idea what I would do for you.

— So show me. — You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was still resting on your neck and squeezed it without too much force. — Make me your girl.

With a smug and satisfied smile, he continued thrusting himself against her insides to the point where her hips began to ache just seconds before she reached her own orgasm with her nails digging into the skin of Touya's arm and her back arching as spasms coursed through her entire body at a high rate of speed. He gave a few thrusts against your pussy until the white streaks of cum painted your insides and slowly pulled out of you, wanting to prolong the feeling of having you squeeze him some more.

Dabi let his tired body fall back against the driver's seat and concentrated on stabilizing his breathing while you did the same as you looked up at him with the following thought running through your mind: "This is definitely the man I want to be with forever". The thought made your cheeks burn and it didn't go unnoticed by him:

— What? — One of his eyebrows arched.

— Nothing, I was just thinking... about you, about us. — You answered, starting to look around the car for your clothes, and an amused laugh came from Touya's mouth, who looked at you tenderly.

— So I'm always on your mind?

— More than you think, yes. — Y/N answered, leaning over to place a tender kiss at the corner of his lips. — Now get ready, get your clothes, let's get back on the road.

— Can we fuck again before we get to the city again? — Her eyes narrowed in disapproval.

— Shut up, you idiot.

#dabi smut #bnha smut #mha smut #my hero acadamy #boku no hero academia #bnha touya #touya smut #bnha dabi #mha dabi #i4nanami #bnha toya #touya todoroki #dabi x oc #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #bnha

208 notes · View notes

harrylilies · 4 years ago

Text

The Royal Series | Pt. I

The Royal Series Masterlist

I posted this series in 2018 but in late 2019, my blog got hacked and I lost all my work. This is me reposting the written chapters of The Royal Series after crying to my husband after I lost it along with all my writing on here. Enjoy. x

It had been long since you had let your hair down for a night.

You longed for a lowkey life, although you knew that the royal protocols you had been following since you were a child were far too embedded in you – yet, you knew how to have your fun.

You found fun in your trips to get milk and cheese yourself, in the strolls you went on in the early morning, when you attended a friend’s wedding, when your oldest brother wasn’t Prince William who was close in line, but a protective brother whom you teased for being old, when your ginger brother, Harry, patted you on the back and helped you with the plans that would make your grandma, the Queen, not necessarily pleased, when you danced with your best friend, and,

when you listened to music; which explained where you were that moment.

The arena was lit, some people who passed by you walking past you without a care, probably thinking that a princess in a Harry Styles concert in Los Angeles was too far-fetched, while others stood stunned.

In your defence, you looked unsuspicious in your black merch hoodie and black jeans, your best friend, Farrah – whom you met at university –, beside you in a casual attire as well, but the two bulky men walking behind you and close in black suits and wireless earbuds did little to conceal you.

Reaching your seats, you grinned at your best friend as you sat. From your peripheral, you saw your two private guards looking around, standing in the aisle beside Farrah’s seat.

“Hey,” you grabbed their attention, pointing with your thumb behind your back at the empty seats, “Would you please sit?”

“Your Highness w-”

"Please, it's a command. Sit here, enjoy the show." You told the two guards who intently looked at you before giving a reluctant nod.

In your balcony seat, your eyes then fell on the stage in anticipation.

"Your Highness," You heard someone beside you, making you look.

A brunet man, no older than 32, stood with a polite and kind smile.

You smiled. "Are you Jeffery?" He nodded, beginning to politely bow his head a tad. You offered your hand with a wide grin, "Thank you for giving me seats in such a short notice, I’m really sorry for any inconvenience."

"Oh no, it really is a pleasure, your Highness." Jeff tipped is head.

"Just Y/N." You smiled, glancing at the stage as the opening act were saying their goodbyes. "He's coming out now, isn't he?"

"Yeah, yeah, he is. Have you been a fan for long?" Jeff asked as you both stood alongside each other, looking at the stage.

"Quite long actually. Since One Direction," You giggled, shrugging, "Always wanted to attend one of their concerts but only now have I been able to do so. Harry has a lovely voice. I have the album on a lot." You laughed, letting Jeff in on your secret, “But hey, keep that between us.” You joked.

Jeff chuckled, "Who would've guessed that the Princess of the United Kingdom is a Harry Styles fan?"

“Trust me, you’d be surprised.” Farrah said, joining in as the three of you laughed.

“I’ll be right there with the rest of the crew,” Jeff pointed at a different place where people from the crew stood, almost all of them looking at you. At you looking at them, they all turned in embarrassment which made you chuckle to yourself before looking at Jeff who had a bashful smile, “Sorry about that. It’s exciting.”

“It’s exciting for me, too.” You assured him.

“Well, please call me or have anyone to do so if you need anything, your H-” you gave him a look, “Y/N.”

“Thank you, Jeffrey.”

“No problem, Y/N.”

The lights flickered off, your heart fluttering in excitement as you stood up, beginning to cheer with the fans.

The notes of Ever Since New York started playing before the lights were on, making you finally see the man you had flown out to see.

In a blue floral suit, Harry stood with his guitar before he began singing, Farrah recording you as you dramatically sang along.

With every song, you and Farrah let loose; dancing together and screaming the lyrics, vibing with Harry and his band. Hell, you caught one of your guards bob his head to Only Angel before his colleague swatted his arm.

It didn't take long for more people to notice the presence of the English Princess and her famous best friend, some phones and flashes being directed your way but experiencing the excitement and utter euphoria of it all, you chose to ignore the attention.

You were captivated to say the least by his performance, posting stories to your private Instagram account, isthataladybug, of a 102 follower.

You knew that he was a cheeky person who enjoyed a nice chat, so him walking around with his mic and talking to fans wasn’t of any surprise, yet, you didn’t predict him addressing you.

"I would just like to greet someone incredibly special here tonight," Harry said through the mic as he wandered on stage before looking your way, "Hi!" He grinned, waving at you. "All well?"

With a grin and flushed cheeks, you nodded and gave him thumbs up.

With a dimpled smile, Harry tipped his head and gave you a curtesy which sent everyone in a frenzy and you and Farrah to laugh.

Farrah nudged you, making you turn to look at her. "We're meeting him, right?"

You shrugged, "Jeff said we will. Said Harry would have his head if we didn’t.”

To say you were disappointed when Harry said his goodbyes after finishing the setlist would be an understatement, although the fact that you were meeting him seemed to brighten you up a tad.

Backstage was chaotic.

Everyone was running around, wanting to be on their best behaviours and look like it for when the Princess came in, every person telling the other that Jeff was on his way to get you and your best friend and that in just a few, they would be seeing the Princess of the United Kingdom in the flesh.

Harry was no better, pacing around the room, making sure he looked decent and collected. Running his fingers through his hair, he turned to look at his band, “How do I look?”

“Like you’re not going to pass out in any second.” Sarah said sarcastically.

"Fuck, I'm so nervous." Harry laughed, wiping his sweaty palms on his suit trousers.

"So am I. Who would've thought that I'm going to meet the Princess of the United Kingdom? Someone better film this." Clare said before letting out a breath as the band stood in the dressing room.

"I-" Adam was cut off by a knock on the door.

They looked at each other with wide eyes before Harry cleared his throat, standing straighter. "Come in!"

Jeff came inside first, his figure hiding yours before he walked further inside and you and Farrah were then seen. The grin on your face was contagious.

Lined, with Harry at the end, you began to shake hands with the band.

"You were absolutely amazing!" You said as you shook their hands, one by one before reaching Harry.

Neither of you knew that the other was about to pass out from the nerves and excitement as you both smiled at each other.

"Thank you for the show. You're as good live as the studio version, if not better." You said.

Blushing at the comment, Harry softly shook your hand. "It's my honour, your Highness."

"Y/N," you corrected him, your hand still in his. "Just Y/N."

"Y/N," Harry repeated with a charming smile. "An honour, Y/N."

Being this close to him, you noticed how emerald Harry's eyes were. Raspberry pink lips and blushing cheeks, he was a sight for sore eyes.

It was cliché, anyone from the outside would say so, but have a 23-year-old Princess meet a 23-year-old artist whom she had been listening to for years and try not to make it cliché; hell, cliché or not, it was a meeting for the stories.

Farrah clearing her throat was what brought you out of your trance, making you remove your hand from Harry's.

"Well, we were actually going out for a drink if you want to join? Is that okay for you?" Sarah asked, “Oh my God, I just asked the Princess to grab a drink with us, I’m so sorry, your Highness.”

“Hey, no, no,” you quickly shook your head, “It’s fine,” you glanced at the guards and your best friend who gave you a nod, "I’d love to join if you’re all okay with Farrah and I joining. We wouldn’t want to interrupt any band-bonding time."

"Of course!" Harry grinned. "We're more than okay."

Telling you the lowkey bar – that served “amazing fries and boneless chicken wings” as Adam said – they were driving to, you exchanged “see you later’s” before you separated ways.

Right as you sat in the car, Farrah turned to face you, “What was that?”

In confusion, you looked at her, “What was what?”

“You and Harry fucking Styles! What was that?” She laughed excitedly, “Please make it happen.”

“Make what happen? You’re a lunatic!”

“You just pulled a Nicholas Sparks back there; ogling at each other, holding hands like yes, Mr. Darcy, I’d let you wed me.” She said dramatically, putting the back of her hand against her forehead.

“First of all, never do this again,” you cringed jokingly, “Second of all, what’s wrong with you? I have a conversation with a lad and suddenly I should get married to him?”

“He’s not just any lad, don’t discredit him like that.”

“Why don’t you go out with him then, Miss Farrah?” You teased her.

“Because I’m Muslim and it won’t work out, you know with our fa-”

“I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t when I said you pulled a Nicholas Sparks.”

“I should’ve brought Emma instead of you.” You let out a sigh.

“Imagine if she could’ve joined though. It would’ve been Emma and I against you.” Farrah poked your arm.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Arriving at the bar, you and Farrah entered, finding that it wasn’t at all crowded but quite the opposite. Very few people were inside, all seeming to mind their business as they ate and drank, a jukebox playing music to add to the atmosphere of the place.

Among the people, your eyes fell on the band you were meeting, Harry instantly standing and waving at you with a grin.

They had left you seats, although you knew your guards were going to stand as your shadows.

Sitting on the opposite seat from Harry, you were seated beside Sarah, the “discreet” excited expression she gave to Mitch not going unnoticed but you only smiled to yourself instead of commenting.

“This was your second show, wasn’t it?” You asked, all of them nodding and replying with confirmation, “Any idea what this tour will have for you?”

“So many headaches,” Hélène replied in her French accent with a chuckle, “So, so many headaches.”

“Brighten up,” Clare nudged the photographer jokingly, “It’s only the second night.”

“I feel like this tour would be a milestone in all of our lives,” Adam replied, seeming to avoid eye contact with you before he looked at his bandmates, “Literally all of us.”

“A-Are you okay?” Farrah asked him, causing Adam’s posture to relax as he laughed.

“I just don’t know if I should look at you,” he said as he looked at you, “What if it’s disrespectful? Illegal?”

“Oh my God, no,” you laughed as you shook your head, “I’m sitting at a bar in Los Angeles with you, Adam, that’s not exactly a Trooping the Colour.”

“When we first heard you were attending,” Harry began, “We all just sort of,” his eyes widened before he laughed, “You know what?” He turned to look at Adam, “That’s a milestone right there.”

“You speak too highly of me,” you rolled your eyes jokingly, “What about all of you? That album, tonight, you should give yourself more credit.”

“Makes sense that people love you so much.” Mitch said with a small smile.

“Not everyone loves her, excuse you,” Farrah joked, raising her hand up.

“Ah, bullshit.” You rolled your eyes, “You love me the most.”

“No?”

“That’s denial.”

Conversations seemed to flow naturally among everyone at the table, laughter being heard as well as a few claps from how hard one of you would be laughing.

It wasn’t until you realised that you hadn’t drank anything that you stood up, “I’m going to grab something to drink. Does anyone want anything?”

A chorus of “thank you’s” was heard, you fully knowing that they probably hadn’t bothered to even ask you to get them anything because of your title.

“I’ll bring these fries and wings for all of us you told me about.” You pointed at Adam.

“I’ll join you.” Harry said, standing from his place and approaching you before the both of you walked towards the bar.

“Sorry if they make you uncomfortable.” You mumbled to Harry as you both sat on stools.

“Who?”

“Sid and Andrew, the guards,” you replied, “They’re the sweetest actually.” You smiled at the men who stood at a safe distance away from you but nearby, both of them tipping their heads at you before they began looking around.

“No, of course not,” Harry shook his head, “I thought you’d have more with you honestly.”

You waved off, “No, two are enough. Daddy wanted me to walk around with 6 but,” you laughed, “God, no.”

Harry smiled before his smile turned into a smirk, “Did you just say Daddy?”

“Ye-Gross, stop! That’s my father!” You groaned, stuffing your face in your hands as Harry laughed, “How old are you, Styles? 14?”

“And a half actually.”

“Ha, ha.” You tried to stifle your smile as you looked up at him, “It’s Mummy and Daddy for us, excuse you.”

“It’s cute.” Harry smiled timidly.

“It was until you commented.” You teased him, giving him a shrug.

“I apologise, your Highness. Please, don’t behead me.” Dramatically, Harry put a hand to his heart.

“I’ll think about it.” You put both hands on the counter gracefully, placing one above the other as you turned away from him before the both of you laughed.

Neither of you had noticed that you hadn’t ordered yet, only remembering when the bartender came over to take your order.

After ordering, you were both quiet, listening to the music that sounded in the place, you swaying slightly in your seat as you looked around.

"Are you not scared?"

You turned to look at Harry, “Excuse me?”

“Are you not scared?” He repeated.

"Of what?” You asked.

"Being seen in here. The rumours. I mean my rumours I can take care of but royal rumours?" Harry shrugged.

“Why? Are you scared?” The tiny smirk that was your lips were drawn into didn’t go unnoticed by Harry, feeling his lips lift into one of his own just at the sight of yours.

Harry took a moment to drink you up; the vibe you gave off was nothing he imagined. The dainty, soft princess he saw on the screen ever since he was young wasn't who sat in front of him.

In front of him was a confident woman, fearless and ready to seize whatever risk thrown at her. A woman who refused to have her identity shaped up and formed by her family and what the world was trying to limit her to, all for a title.

That's why with a thumping heart and an amused smile, Harry replied; "No, Princess. I'm not scared."

#harrylilies #I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING #The Royal Series #my babies #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fake au #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles series #harry styles fluff series #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff fanfic #harry styles au

619 notes · View notes

jungxk · 5 years ago

Text

crush

filed under. i totally forgot i wrote this. also i like the name eunmi sue me

notes. thank you to @lonelyending for reading thru this crusty story and making me feel good enough about it again to post it. also @suga-kookiemonster bc im pretty sure i sent u this like a year ago and u told me to post it it but....i forgot abt it shdgjsgd. writing/life in general has been hard recently so pls accept this kookfic to hold yous over until i update just one

genre. fluff, light comedy, light angst, smut

warnings. smut (oral sex: f receiving, penetrative unprotected sex)

length. 5.1k

the first thing jungkook thinks when he sees you is wow.

he hasn't been up for very long, and you don't even know he's looking at you through the window. yoongi-hyung has wrapped you up in his arms as you sob and sob, muted behind the protective hospital glass. even with messy hair and wet eyes he's starstruck. it's why he recoils slightly when jimin and namjoon explain to him that you're his wife.

"my," he can't even say the word. "my..."

"your wife," namjoon repeats. "you know what a wife is, right? marriage?"

"yes," jungkook huffs, digging his nails into his scalp. "i lost my memory, hyung, not my fucking brain cells."

he suddenly registers the gold band glistening on his left hand, simple and heavy. he has to take a second to collect himself. "but...but i'm twenty-three. right? i am twenty-three, yeah?"

"yeah. you are," jimin says softly.

"then how the fuck am i already married? not that i'm complaining i just," he suddenly turns pink at the thought of you in a wedding dress, clinging onto his arm, breakfast dates, late night ramen runs at the convenience store, painting the living room in a house you probably share, naked in bed on top of him. jungkook clears his throat. "it just seems a little out of character for me. i can't commit to a pair of shoes for a week let alone-"

"i think it's best if you just spoke with ____," jimin finishes before jungkook can work himself into a frenzy, a comforting hand laying on his shoulder. "you two need to talk anyway and it's best if all these answers came from her."

jungkook gulps at the thought of speaking to you, seeing you face to face. suddenly he's a cripplingly shy fourteen year old again.

"okay." he croaks. "okay."

you were even more beautiful up close.

your tear stained cheeks are glowing and blotchy when you perch on the chair beside his bed, big eyes fluttering up at him nervously. you're soft and plush and shorter than he thought and jungkook has to fist his hands in the sheets and play a counting game with the heart rate monitor in order to maintain eye contact. he feels himself start to sweat when you smile sadly at him. "sorry, i just...i don't know how to be around you normally without making you uncomfortable," you say quietly, wringing your hands together to avoid touching him.

"uncomfortable?" he queries, gaze latching onto the ring on your hand. seeing it on you gives him a nice feeling.

you nod into your lap. "yeah, um..." you look at your scuffed shoes, searching for the word. "we're usually very...touchy."

he can feel himself turning red again. "t-touchy?"

you meet his eyes and a pretty smile breaks over your face at how bashful he looks, making jungkook's cheeks tinge even pinker than they already are. you nod cutely so your earrings tinkle, eyes shining, and suddenly he understands without any context why he fell in love with you, why he married you so young. you let a comfortable silence settle over the room before taking a deep breath, bracing yourself. "how much do you remember, jungkook?"

he tries not to cave under the weight of his guilt. "not a lot about...you, that is," he finishes with a wince, your sad eyes immediately making him wilt with shame. "i remember everything up until a couple of years ago. we had a show at the japanese dome, debuted in america, and then...nothing. and now..."

"and now," you echo softly. your eyes look distant, staring at the floor.

"i'm sorry," jungkook whispers, chin touching his chest. "hyung told me...they all told me how much i loved you and...and i'm sorry i don't remember any of it. i'm so sorry."

you shake your head gently. "don't be sorry, jungkook-ah," the pet name makes his ears perk up. its a familiar, calming sound. "none of this is your fault. you didn't ask to get hit by that car." your expression turns remorseful, tugging at his heart. "if anything, this is because of me. the only reason you were out was because i asked you to go and get eggs and formula even though i should've remembered to pick some up on the way home and-"

"no, no! please don't blame yourself," jungkook tries, wishing he was close enough or even brave enough to take your hand. you look up at him and he catches a glimpse of the endless pool of love you harbour for him, like a punch to the chest. "i don't ever want you thinking this was your fault. so ple-" he pauses. "wait, formula?"

the door bursts open before he can finish, pitter patter steps rounding his bed until it reaches the other side, where you sit. a little girl with big dark eyes and curls of dark hair stares at him in wonder and elation, her cheeks dimpling just like yours before she screeches, "appa!"

jungkook's mouth goes dry. appa?

you're quick to intervene, putting yourself in the toddlers path to scoop her up in your arms. her grabby little hands struggle over your shoulder, fingers wriggling in attempt to get as close to jungkook as possible. he only stares with wide eyes and an open mouth, heart hammering in his chest when he sees the uncanny resemblances: his round nose. your brown skin but just a twinge fairer. his hooded eyes. and his stomach lurches.

"shhh, eunmi," you coo as you carry her away even with her squirming. "remember what i said before? appa is sick. appa is sick, baby-"

"we have a child?" jungkook wheezes, eyes starting to glaze over. there's a bout of silence when you look back at him guiltily, the baby's fumbling grinding to a halt when she registers the tension in the air. jungkook's breath is barely a whisper. "is that my daughter?"

your face crumples with a fresh bout of tears and eunmi looks on worriedly. she pushes her little lips into your cheek in a baby's kiss, like she's seen her father do so many times to get your attention. the word "amma," is muffled into your skin until you get yourself together and press a short kiss to her head.

yoongi rushes in, face twisted in apology. "i swear to god i turned around for one minute and-"

"it's okay, yoongi," you say quietly, stroking the baby's head. "eunmi, stay with uncle just a bit longer, okay? amma will be back in a minute..."

"appa," she whines over your shoulder, reaching for jungkook who sits helplessly in his bed. he watches with tears wetting his eyelashes, heart twisting in agony at the sight of his child he doesn't remember stretching her arms out for him. she begins to cry when he doesn't react or coo her. like he used to.

"take her, yoongi," you say shakily, passing the baby to him. the sound of eunmi's crying makes your heart shatter all over again, yoongi's quiet hushing doing nothing to qualm her sobbing as the heavy door closes behind them.

the silence that falls between the two of you is nothing short of excruciating. jungkook's head spins, completely overwhelmed: is that why you both got married so young? because of a child? was this why jimin and namjoon wouldn't say a damn thing about his life until he spoke to you first?

and then all the other questions that followed: was he a good father? when was his daughter's birthday? did she like kimchi and banana milk too? did he sing to her? read to her often?

would she ever forgive him for not being able to remember her?

"her name is eunmi," you say, looking down at the floor when jungkook starts to cry.

jungkook doesn't understand how his baby could be so pretty. she's golden brown like those sandy beaches on postcards, with chubby cheeks and twinkling dark eyes that resemble yours to a t, and that's when he realises of course she's beautiful. she's yours. you balance eunmi on your hip while you make coffee - decaf, since you're still weaning - and despite the amnesia jungkook feels like he's been here before, in this warm, happy place that is the kitchen.

"she got your nose though," you remind him, dumping the baby in his lap upon her fussing. she always seemed to wind down under his touch, and although nervous about the sudden responsibility of fatherhood, jungkook is compelled to give it. eunmi doesn't understand anything's changed so he doesn't see why he should act like it. "she's whiny before her milk too. like you."

"hey!" he retorts, but can't exactly defend himself. he twirls his fingers around her curly pigtails until she catches on and tries to stand on his thighs, reaching for his hair to yank. jungkook lets her. he's barely known his daughter a week and he's already so smitten he'd let her gut him open with a butter knife.

"she missed you, you know. when you were in hospital all this time," you say, making him look up to watch you stare into your drink. the fear still lingers in your eyes, faint and persistent. he can see it every time you look at him and it makes his body yearn to touch you like he once did, like he once would have before his brain unlearned everything his heart didn't. you laugh while watching eunmi pull his hair again, making him hiss. "even yoongi tried but no one coddles her as much as you."

"really?" he asks, face lighting up. he's so happy to hear that. jungkook hates the way the question bubbles up in the back of his throat, like it'd make a difference or it'd change how he felt. but he has to ask it. "is that why...is that why we got married so early, then?" he says, trying to sound as offhand as possible. "because of eunmi?"

you chew your lip. "yeah. i mean, you said it wasn't a big deal. because you were going to marry me eventually so it didn't make a difference, but...it doesn't really matter i guess, because that's not what everyone else thinks," you pause, tracing the rim of your mug again. "that's certainly not what your fans think."

jungkook doesn't even want to think about it. the backlash, the gossip, the name calling and dehumanisation. for the first time in his life jungkook couldn't give less of a shit about his reputation. "i'm sorry," he says, feeling like the word has lost meaning by now with how much he's said it. "i'm so sorry. not for this, for us or for eunmi. i don't regret any of that i just," he shifts the baby in his lap, still getting used to her weight. "i can only imagine what you went through."

you look a bit bewildered. "...you said that last time too." you smile again reassuringly. "please don't feel solely responsible, kook-ah. you didn't exactly get me pregnant on your own."

he flushes tomato red and you giggle at him until eunmi joins in too.

jungkook can't keep his eyes off you while you play with the baby, comb out her hair, sing her lullabies while you bathe her together. he'd always wanted a whirlwind romance as a teen and it looks like he finally got it, because he can feel himself fall head first in love with you (all over again). it didn’t make sense for someone to be so collected and easygoing after having motherhood forced onto you so abruptly. you tell him often that he's a picture-perfect dad, but jungkook still doubts he compares.

"does she need a change?" he asks, struggling to keep all of eunmi's wriggling limbs in his grip.

"nope, just hungry," you say, reaching out when he passes the baby to you. you're about to stand up and go to the guest room to feed her, but jungkook is already arranging the pillows next to him for you, grabbing a baby cloth on the side too.

"do you need another pillow?" he muses aloud, but he's already grabbing the ones on his side of the bed before you can answer, forming a wedge for you to sit nicely beside him. he looks up at you when you fail to move. "are you okay?"

"yeah i, um," you chew your lip nervously. "you don't...mind me feeding here?"

you immediately regret the question once it leaves your mouth. jungkook's crestfallen expression hits you right in the stomach, round eyes glittering up at you. he hasn't looked this upset since he woke up nearly a month ago. "why would i ever mind?”

"oh jungkook," you sniff, sitting beside him. he pulls you into the nest of pillows beside him, arm winding protectively around your shoulders. your eyes brim with sympathy tears, tired and angry and upset with treating him like a stranger.

"if i make you feel uncomfortable, i can go," he offers quietly. "if it makes you feel weird i understand..."

"no, not at all," you rush to stop him, suddenly realising how close you are. you could kiss his pink little lips if you just tilted your head up. "i just didn't want to make you feel weird. all this new stuff is happening to you, you're suddenly a husband and a father with no recollection of signing up or it and i just...i don't know how much you want to invest the second time around," you scramble to finish your sentence when he pins you with a concerned expression. “as in, i understand if you don’t want to make the same choice twice. it’s a big decision.”

he shakes his head dismissively. there wasn't a thing in the world that could make him turn his back on his family but it looked like you still needed convincing. he peers at you curiously when you position the baby. "so i can stay?"

you smile at him eagerly. "of course," you undo the nursing strap of your bra before the baby finally latches. "i actually prefer it when you're here. it makes me feel safe."

jungkook watches quietly while you hum for the baby, playing with her little hand while she drinks. the adoration seeps out of him in waves, how serene you look while you rock her, how angelic eunmi looks while she blinks her big doll eyes up at you both. she won't stay this little forever. he feels so overwhelmed by it, gathering you further in his arms with the urge to hold his family in his hands like a diamond. you don't question the little sniffles jungkook buries into your hair, resting your head on his shoulder wordlessly. you missed being held by him, missed his cotton scent and gentle breath.

"i love her so much," he whispers into the shell of your ear, entranced by the baby's little gurgles and gulps. he reaches out to run his knuckle over the velvet of her cheek, round and stuffed with milk. "i feel like i'll die, i love her so much."

"me too," you smile. "it was scary and hard for a long time but...i'm so glad we had her. i wouldn't trade her for anything."

you feel jungkook's lips trace your temple, heart stuttering upon the sudden contact. you hear what he doesn’t say: i wouldn't trade either of you.

"why are you so sweaty?" jimin scowls, noting the dark patches under jungkook's t-shirt when he tries to take the baby from his arms. "it's not even humid today."

jungkook doesn't do anything but gulp and cuddle a sleeping eunmi closer to his chest. she's become somewhat of a security blanket for him; even if she wasn't awake to play, he was always itching to hold her and nuzzle into her head when he's tense or embarrassed. like now.

"leave him alone, you know he sweats when he's shy," yoongi grins.

"stop it," jungkook mumbles.

"shy? what for?"

"because he's got a crush on his wife," namjoon snickers, knowing jungkook would whack him one if his arms weren't around his kid. "why are you looking at me like that? it's true!"

"but you can't just say it! she'll hear!" he hisses.

"you're married," jimin deadpans but it only makes the younger boy curl in on his baby more. "god, this reminds of when you two met. remember how he used to hide behind manager hyung every time ____ came in? and then i had to listen to them fuck in the next room for a year only to end up back here all over again-"

"jungkook," you call. "where did these come from?" you walk into the sitting room with a bouquet of yellow roses nestled in your arms. "did a fan send them? i didn't see a note they were just on the worktop-"

"th-those are for you," he mumbles. "i got those for you."

you look so pretty when you stare it makes him sweat harder and the three older boys all but burst a vein in their head trying not to laugh when leaving the room. there's an awkward silence where you clutch the flowers and he clutches the baby. "thank you," you say finally. "they're beautiful, i love the colour yellow..."

his big doe eyes round up to look at you even though the lower half of his face is smushed into pigtails. "you're welcome."

"can i kiss you?" you blurt out, too fast to stop it. your cheeks are still stinging and you're pretty sure you have baby powder in your hair but jungkook looks at you with awe as he nods so vigorously his earrings shake.

so you do, leaning over the arm of the sofa to press your mouth over his long enough for both your breaths to catch. you pull away, moving to sit next to him so his free arm can wind around your shoulders when you kiss him again. "please," he mumbles when you part. "please don't ask to kiss me. just do it," he leans for another long, warm kiss that leaves you light headed. "stop tip-toeing around me, okay? we're married. i know i scare easy, but not that easy."

you feel giddy, finally feeling the weight being lifted piece by piece. "okay," you peck his mole endearingly before scooting up for another kiss. "i missed this."

"me too," he hums into your mouth. "it feels like the first time but also...not the first time, you know? not just because i don't remember but like," he doesn't know how to say it, wetting his lips thoughtfully. your chapstick is cherry flavoured, his favourite. "like we've been doing this for longer than both of us even realise. longer than this life."

"i know," you nod. "i know."

after a while, you forgot about jungkook's amnesia altogether. even though the chances of him making a full recovery were slim, it all felt so normal and back to routine, all the kissing and the cuddling and the playing with eunmi. there was almost no room for trepidation anymore. until now.

you moan into jungkook's mouth when he pulls you onto his thighs, big hands palming your ass when you grind into him. he's only mildly concerned that he'll cum in his pants at this rate but he doesn't fret too much: that was secondary to undressing you and touching you and pleasing you and making you scream as loud as he could make you without waking the baby. he has nearly three years of re-learning your body to catch up on and he's eager to start.

he's quickly reminded during this process that you are a master. you know exactly where to kiss him, exactly how much pressure to kneed into his cock with your hips, exactly how much tongue he wants in his mouth until he's whining and damp for you. of course you know his body like the back of your hand - your child wasn't conceived from thin air. it makes him all the more desperate to learn, almost antsy to get his mouth and hands on you until you're writhing and breathless beneath him.

you gasp when you feel his hand slip between your legs, rubbing his fingers over your shorts. you automatically rock your covered wetness into his touch, the long whimper you muffle into his neck sending jungkook soaring through the clouds with pride. you're so lost in the feeling, having missed it so much, you're barely able to squeak a stop! when he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your panties.

his eyes shoot open. "what's wrong?"

"j-jungkook," you shuffle in his grip, feeling so embarrassed under his scrutiny you don't know where to look. "it's not that i want you to stop but. listen, just," you cling to his shoulders, shivering when his hands drag reassuringly up to your waist. "just remember that...i've had a kid, okay? i'm not gonna look like before."

he blinks. "i don't remember what you looked like before."

"no, i mean like," you lick your lips, tasting him there. "it's still something to keep in mind. i'm not gonna be as smooth and perky in places like all those idol girls you perform next to, so just-" he watches you fumble nervously in his lap, the growing disbelief making him blink. "don't expect too much okay? things might not look the way you imagine them to and i don't want you to feel-"

"stop," he cuts off, tugging you so you're seated over his erection again. the look jungkook pins you with is so intense you can feel your pulse thrum in your ears, the harsh rise and fall of his chest making him appear that much more passionate. "this body," he slips his hands up your top, palming your skin. "made my child. i take offence to it being spoken about with anything less than admiration, even by you."

"kook-ah," you say nervously, but still let him remove your pj top over your head before you laying you under him on the bed. you don't know why your eyes suddenly prick with tears when he traces over your stretch marks and discoloured skin with his smooth lips. "this kept my daughter warm," he kisses under your navel, sliding up to your heavy breasts. he kisses each darkened nipple, swollen from the baby's mouth. "these feed her." he rises further still, before planting his mouth on your forehead in a short peck. "and this raises her. so how can i be anything but proud to touch you?"

"jungkook, stop," you sniff, tears wetting your lashes. your eyes fall shut when he wipes them away with his thumb, lips ghosting over your cheeks and nose.

"what did i say about tip-toeing around me?" he whispers, forcing you to look him in the eye. only then do you see the tears there, all the ardour and respect he holds for you pooling in those brown depths. "i'm your husband. let me be your husband."

you kiss him before you can start crying again, letting him part your mouth and taste you long and hard before finally undressing himself and slipping your shorts off. this is all a first for him, and it's been so long since you've done this it's almost like a first for you too, frantic and messy and desperate to feel jungkook lodged inside you where he belongs. you know he must share the sentiment when he splits your thighs over the narrow of his hips, hooking them there while he gets a good look of his erection rubbing through your slick.

no wonder i knocked her up, jungkook muses faintly. i don't think i can ever stop doing this.

"jungkook, please," you run a hand through his hair, grinding against his cock in encouragement but he still won't take the plunge. instead, your voice reminds him of his initial objective, causing him to saunter down between your legs faster than you can process. he's licking into you before you can have a second thought about it, mouth falling open with a loud moan when he traces around your clit in firm circles.

he has your knees over his shoulders and his arms wound around your hips so you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but buck into his attentive mouth, jungkook's groans vibrating against you until you can barely keep yourself together - he's always enjoyed this as much as you have. which is why he takes his time, explores every crevice and subsequent response, relishing in the gush of wetness when he does something right. he even goes as far as holding his tongue stagnant against your folds so you have no choice but to rub yourself into him for friction, so entranced he is by your invigorating reactions. only when you're squirming and whimpering with deliriousness does he finally give in and resume a steady pace over your swollen clit, two fingers sliding in home so you have something to come around. and you do.

messy and wet and shrieking into the pillow by your head so that you're muffled enough to not wake the baby down the hall, your orgasm drawing out longer than normal as you do your best to ride it out. jungkook carries you through it, gulping down as much of your arousal as he can manage until your hips finally drop back into the bed in post-climax exhaustion. on the contrary, the only reason he stops lapping at you is because you tug him away by the hair, bringing him up to you and between your legs again before he can do anything about it.

he splutters with a moan at the sudden contact of your wetness against his cock again, eyes fluttering shut and allowing you to bring him in, arms and legs winding securely around him so that you're flush against each other, hips rocking in tandem. jungkook is so caught up in the feeling - not the sex but the safety of being held, being connected like this - that you're the one to reach down and position his tip against your hot center, before finally running your hands down your husband's back to cup his ass and shove him into you.

jungkook gasps, breath shaking at how tight you are. you're so hot, so snug around him his eyes shut upon instinct, letting your hands guide his hips and showing him how to move in that perfect rolling motion that you're only familiar with after years of practice. and jungkook, of course, is a fast learner. it doesn't take long for him to take the reigns and fuck you just how you like it, adding in a sharp snap of his hips every now and again just to listen to you squeak in surprise. the wet sounds of your joined arousal coupled with you moaning under him is near cathartic, sending him hurtling to his finish line.

but before he can get there you shift him over, thick thighs helping you roll and pin him under you on the bed. jungkook grapples at your waist when you resume a slower but harder rock of your hips that has his length grinding against your clenching walls, his head thrown back at the intensity of it. you ride him through it, peppering the moles on his pretty neck with kisses and sucks, mouth finding his stiff little nipple to give it a swirl too. it's exactly what he needs to finish off, fingers digging into your flesh as he bucks wildly, filling you full of his seed while he calls your name. you slow to a stop when his hands finally fall limp on your thighs, his chest heaving under you and covered in sweat. you giggle. he always got so sweaty.

"you did so well, kookie," you whisper, kissing his damp neck and collar bones. his arms are suddenly around you again for comfort. "you were so good for me...always so good to me..."

"you," he croaks finally, eyes half lidded and a little delirious. "you didn't finish?"

you giggle at his genuine concern, pecking his wet lips. "i got mine, remember?"

"how many times?" jungkook is suddenly alert, tugging your wrist to get your attention before you can climb off him. his other hand is still around your middle so moving was out of the question until he allowed it. he was still inside you. "how many times do i usually make you come?"

you blink in embarrassment. you never really thought about it, let alone counted. "um...i don't know..." he waits for an answer, awfully serious about it. "a-at least two or three, i guess."

you yelp when he flips you back over, fingers immediately prying your cum soaked folds apart to nestle inside. "then don't act like we're done."

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #myfic #dont we all love a memory loss au

5K notes · View notes

jinkicake · 4 years ago

Text

Nice Hickey

Goshiki, Daichi with a s/o who loves to leave hickeys on them.

Goshiki Tsutomu x Reader

Sawamura Daichi x Reader

For Anon who requested this~ I seriously love Goshiki like he is my sweet future-ace!! Goshiki, Kindaichi, and Kunumi are my first-year babies. I’ll fight Ushiwaka and Kageyama for their honor. Sorry, this isn’t that smutty, I was feeling oddly soft today... I’ve been itching to write angst so maybe that’s it....

Semi-Smutty // NSFW

WC- 1,140

~~~

Goshiki Tsutomu

Please, I love Goshiki so much,,,, he is my sweet angel,,,, I think him and Sakunami and Shibayama are some of my favorite first years…. They really have my heart

This boy is so precious, please the moment you even get inches from his face he will pass out and get all flustered. Even if you guys have been dating for a while I think it’ll take time for him to get used to your attention, even if that is what he craves,,,,

He’d be so tense when you kiss his neck like baby boy doesn’t know what to do TT His hands would hover over your hips and he’d be stiff under you

Goshiki would still love it nonetheless like he loves getting pampered with your kisses

He’d rather kiss you though, I think he would become so overwhelmed with emotions he would just want to grab your face and kiss you so hard

If he’s at practice and someone points out the hickey on his neck, Goshiki would pass away on the spot

Shibaru would be looking at him with his eyes filled with disgust as he points at the mark, muttering to himself about how no one has any decency these days

Then Tendou will jump in to save Goshiki while poking fun at everyone else, ‘Tsutomu, they’re just jealous they don’t have their own s/o and you do!’ Tendou really does fuel Goshiki’s ego through the roof

Goshiki will get that familiar fire in his eyes and be so proud like ‘yes! I have the best s/o, that’s something Ushijima doesn’t have!’ It’s one of the steps to beating Ushijima

If Goshiki ever noticed that you left hickeys in a pattern, like a smiley face, he would seriously coo so loud. He would be so lovestruck that he’d race straight to your dorm after practice and tackle you into a hug

“It’s almost ten o’clock at night, are you guys really still practicing?” You sulk, crossing your arms over your chest as you stand in the door of the gym. Goshiki stares down at your frowning face, the big pout that takes over your lips sends his heart into a frenzy. He is already a flustered mess because you came to get him from practice and now his entire team is staring at the two of you. “Tsutomu, I’m tired.”

Goshiki stiffens at your whine and immediately tries to calm you down, not noticing the teasing glances from the third years.

“We are just finishing up.” Ushijima speaks up from behind your boyfriend and you glance at him, staring blankly at him just as he is staring at you.

“Ah so this is the little (Y/N) you always talk about, Tsutomu?” Tendou pears from behind the first year, clasping his hands on the outsite hitter’s shoulders as he stares down at you curiously. “Are they the one who also gave you this!” Tendou points at the hickey on Goshiki’s neck with a shocked look, his red taunting eyes glance at you and you shrug.

“What do you think?” You snap, grabbing Goshiki’s wrist and bringing him to your side. Usually, you love his team and appreciate all they do for him but right now, you are cranky and tired. Reon and Semi try to hide the smiles off their faces at the appalled look on Tendou’s face, the two of you currently in a power struggle as you glare at the other. You eventually dip your head apologetically at the middle blocker. “Sorry, I’m really tired.”

“(Y/N), l-let’s just go and we can go to sleep!” Goshiki suggests and quickly grabs his bag, he quite literally drags you out of the gym so that you won’t fight with his teammates anymore.

“Sleeping in the same bed together before marriage? How scandalous.” Tendou mocks and Semi rolls his eyes at him. “Our little Tsutomu has grown up!”

Sawamura Daichi

Daichi is such a smooth ass, he will let you do whatever you want to him

Literally, he will sit there with his strong hands on your hips and hold you as you paint a masterpiece on his neck and shoulders

It’s hot, you’re hot, why wouldn’t he like it?

Daichi will always let you give him hickeys, he has no shame, though he does prefer that it be in a place that it can’t be seen

His neck is pretty much off-limits unless it is a tiny tiny hickey. Basically, his chest and thighs are your canvas

Though that does make for some awkward conversations in the locker room when he has to change

Sugawara is staring at him like…. ‘uhhh this you?’ He can’t believe Daichi lets his s/o mark him up like that?!

Asahi would notice the little heart on his ribs and would point it out, saying that he thinks it is cute

Daichi ends up ignores them, mentally rolling his eyes, while throwing his shirt on as quickly as he can

He refuses to let them tease him, Daichi will not be teased. Unless it is by you~

“Babe,” Daichi warns as your lips hover over his neck, you slightly pull back to pout at him. “don’t.” The warning makes your eyes narrow in frustration, you refuse to listen to him. Instead, you kiss along his neck while placing gentle pecks wherever you see fit. You slowly take your time and work along his throat, poking your tongue out to lap at his warm skin. When Daich feels your teeth gently nipping at his skin, he squeezes your hips as another warning.

You really don’t want to listen.

You continue your conquest and latch your lips on a sensitive spot, right where his neck and shoulder meet. Daichi can’t even get you to stop, not when it feels so good. Your lips are so sinful, it make his knees weak, underneath you Daichi bucks his hips into yours.

When you finally pull away your boyfriend takes the opportunity to flip you onto your back, his dark eyes stare down at you disappointingly.

“I told you not to leave marks on my neck.” Daichi scolds, his number one rule flying over your head. You can take all the scolding he gives you, especially when he punishes you afterward.

“You don’t like it when I leave little kisses everywhere?” You frown and drag your finger along his throat, smirking when you notice how his arms tense beside you. “I love leaving my marks,” The way you jut your lip out momentarily distracts Daichi, he can’t tear his eyes away from your mouth.

Maybe, he will try something else.

Without warning Daichi claims your neck with his mouth, he runs his tongue all over your skin until he hears your breath hitch. Everywhere he can, he leaves bruises in his wake. In no time at all, you’ve become a melted mess underneath him.

It’s time he gave you a taste of your own medicine.

~ Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah @littleshopoflove @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin @buzzybeebee

#Goshiki Tsutomu x reader #sawamura daichi x reader #goshiki x reader #daichi x reader #daichi smut #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

1K notes · View notes

jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss Me More

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word count: 6.1K

Genre: Very fluffy smut

Warning: Some sexy time in there nothing too extreme (hehehe...or is there?)

Summary: You were confident in the fact that your sex life with Mark was very exciting, wild and fun to say the least. In more or less words, it was perfect. Just your relationship in general was the kind that many people around you would be the envy of. It’s been four years since you began dating and you could honestly say it has been the best four years of your life so far because of him. He was the best boyfriend you could possibly ask for; kind, funny, gentle, considerate, soft-spoken, generous and extremely handsome. He took really good care of you and it was obvious by both his actions and his words that he was madly in love with you. As the two of you are coming down from your sex highs, you grow curious as to why once your love making sessions were over, so is the intimacy. Surely, your boyfriend has his reasons for not kissing you for too much longer as you’re about to go to bed. Right?

A/N: Based on the song “Kiss Me More” by Doja Cat and Sza. I am obsessed with this song and I knew I had to write something based on it so I hope you all enjoy! (I don’t really care for how the ending turned out but whatever).

We hug and yes, we make love And always just say "Goodnight" (la-la-la-la-la) And we cuddle, sure I do love it But I need your lips on mine

Can you kiss me more? We're so young, boy We ain't got nothin' to lose, oh, oh It's just principle Baby, hold me 'Cause I like the way you groove, oh, oh

Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it (la-la-la-la) Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it

“Ah—shit, shit—baby, I’m going to need you to slow down. Please—we have the whole night, I just—y/n—fuck. You’re so fucking sexy—“ Against your boyfriend’s pleas, you only sped up your pace to rile him more than he already was.

“The whole night? We’ve been at this for three hours baby. I think I’m gonna tap out here soon. Aren’t you tired?”

The devilish grin that immediately rose on his face at your confession confirmed that no—he was not tired or if he was, he still had enough energy to keep pumping in to you. You were currently bouncing on his cock; sinking up and down on him like it was your life duty to do so.

Your walls were clenched around him deliciously; his hardened length filled you up to the hilt with every thrust. The tip grazed along your nub; flicking it with every pump and it was quickly driving you to the brink of insanity. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d find yourself in this position tonight.

The two of you were exhausted beyond belief; you were at school since six in the morning up until four in the afternoon earlier today. You had finished two midterms and one very important exam you’ve been studying almost an entire month for. Tired wasn’t even a good enough word to describe your current state.

Your boyfriend was just as much in bad shape as you were. His boss had him doing multiple errands today on top of completing his own assigned work. He only arrived home a little over an hour ago. When you heard the front door of your shared apartment gently open, you had to prevent yourself from running towards him and embracing him with all the power you had in your tiny body.

You were confident that he was probably worn out and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. From previous experiences, sometimes your boyfriend would go straight to bed upon arrival—being too fatigued to care about eating or taking a shower even.

Although you were just as tired and in more or less words; overworked to the bone, seeing your boyfriend slumped while his dark circles grew more and more prominent every day, you mustered up enough energy to iron his clothes for the next day, prepare the clothes he’d wear to sleep, pack him a lunch and even get some of his toiletries ready if he felt like wanting to rinse off just a bit.

To your surprise, as soon as he made his way towards you—before you could even open your mouth to ask your boyfriend how his day was, his pretty, heart-shaped lips that you loved so much were fervently smashed against yours. He gave you no time in preparing yourself for what was to come next before he roughly grabbed you at your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist.

His mouth never left yours as he led the two of you to your shared bedroom. It boggled your mind that he was giving you his full attention; gnawing and sucking on your lips while he carried you to the room without bumping in to anything or tripping on the rug. Maybe he’s gotten used to doing so since the two of you have been in this exact same scenario more times than you can count on both hands.

There were so many thoughts running through your mind and questions on the tip of your tongue—concerning the sudden affection and lust he was currently showing you, but whatever you wanted to ask him no longer mattered the second he shoved his tongue down your throat and squeezed both your ass cheeks before slapping them hard.

“Mark—babe is everything okay—“

“Work was shit—complete and utter shit. I missed you so fucking much like I do every single day I’m at that shithole and so I logged on to Snapchat and to my surprise—and delight, my beautiful girlfriend sent me a few snaps of her pretty outfit today. Don’t play innocent baby, you knew exactly what you were doing as soon as you hit send. You are well aware of the fact that I was seconds away from calling in sick this morning and fucking you in to oblivion right against the kitchen counter when you walked out in to the living room. Ah—there was so many things I wanted to say. Don’t get me wrong, you look breathtakingly beautiful in every single thing that you wear, but my dress shirt and that pencil skirt that hugs you in all the right places and leaves little to the imagination? Tsk tsk—it’s like you wanted me to rearrange your guts tonight.”

You looked at him in curiosity; it took you a few moments to pin point exactly what photos he was referring to. Since you were so busy today, you completely forgot about sneaking to the bathroom and taking a few pictures of yourself. This last week has been extremely busy for both you and your boyfriend—and so the thought of being intimate with him felt like a fever dream.

Sex with Mark had to be one of your favorite activities not only as a couple, but just in general. One thing about the older boy that you admired was the fact that he was very talented in each and every single thing he put his mind in to. Baseball, volleyball, football, golf, tennis, soccer, martial arts—it wasn’t even only sports.

Mark was exceptionally intelligent; he was one of the only people you knew that was good at both reading and math. He also could finish a Rubik’s cube in under two minutes which was quite the impossible task. Every single thing your boyfriend did never failed to impress you. However, you felt as though he was the best at blowing your mind in more ways than one.

The older boy was extremely generous; he always bought you cute little gifts that reminded him of you, he’d pay for every single date against your pleas no matter where the two of you would go, he’d sacrifice his time and work his schedule around yours so he could pick you up and drop you off wherever you needed to go. When it came to the bedroom, he always put you and your needs first. Mark always made it his main priority to make sure you came first, that you were genuinely having a good time and overall he wanted to do whatever he possibly could to make you comfortable.

Some days, he’d be so focused on eating you out that he found pleasure and got his full strictly by sucking on your pussy. If you were having a rough day, he’d prepare you a bath and get you all your favorite snacks in attempts of cheering you up but not before finding his place in between your thighs and dragging his tongue along your slit faster than you could actually handle. Mark was the king of overstimulation; one of his kinks was driving you crazy and not giving you a chance to do anything about it.

He was extremely good at sex— and his body was handcrafted by God. Every single thing about him was annoyingly perfect; he wasn’t the most muscular man but he wasn’t exactly skinny either. He had just the right amount of muscle, a six pack and he was well endowed. Although you considered penises very unattractive before you met Mark, something about his was so pretty and it always made your mouth water.

You weren’t sure if you preferred having it buried deep inside of your cunt, or filling up your throat—both felt so phenomenal. Out of all the positions you and Mark experimented in during your four year relationship, your favorites had to be doggy, missionary and the one you were currently in right now. In most of your love making sessions, Mark took the lead and dominated you—not that you ever objected.

A dominant Mark—degrading, rough, animalistic was the sexiest Mark—well, next to jealous and overprotective which usually led to the passionate and extremely freaky sex the two of you’d have. But there were times where you would take control because Mark was the definition of a switch; and something about him submitting to you and whatever you told him to always sent your mind in a frenzy.

Mark was very vocal about how he came faster whenever you would find yourself riding him specifically because watching your breasts bounce, getting to see your gorgeous face and observing your pussy swallow his cock whole—your juices coating his entire length, the sensation was lethal. His hands gripped on your waist all but gently; you might have been the one on top but your boyfriend was a powerbottom. He never allowed you to do things on your own, especially during sex.

“Nope. I’m like the energizer bunny whenever we make love. In fact, I could probably fuck you for a solid four more hours. I know sex isn’t everything in a relationship and there are so many other things I love to do with you—but damn, you’re a fucking dream y/n. We have sex almost every single day and it always feels like the first time. If you’re exhausted baby, you can get off. As much as I particularly enjoy and get off on the feeling of your ass clapping against my balls, I’m sure it’s pretty tiring.”

You had to stifle back a laugh at his choice of words; when the two of you first became intimate with one another, there was a lot of laughter and playful banter in the duration of your sexy time to which you didn’t think was normal. Then again, your relationship with Mark was never normal from the start. Your relationship was the envy of a lot of the people around you.

It’s been over four years yet somehow—maybe it was the deep, passionate love you held for one another, but you were still surprisingly in the honeymoon stage. Neither you or Mark could get enough of each other. Sometimes, whenever the two of you would tumble in to bed together, some jokes, corny pickup lines and even riddles would be thrown in while Mark would be railing you and on some occasions, he’d say things at the wrong time, but you still had so much fun nonetheless.

“I’m not too tired, I just don’t want to be immobile for the next week. My thighs are jelly and I have work in the morning. I’ve called out three times already in the last month because you fulfill your promises of wrecking me and I’m sure my boss is aware of the fact that it’s not possible for me to get food poisoning that many times within days of each other—“

“I mean, I have no regrets honestly and if I remember correctly, you’re always the one telling me to “go faster” and to “fuck me harder daddy”—ow! What? I’m just stating the facts—“

“I know, but it sounds weird when you say it.”

He playfully rolled his eyes before stealing a sloppy kiss from the corner of your mouth and motioned for you to get off of him. As much as you were reveling in his many wanton noises and lustful facial expressions, you could feel your legs giving out and you were in no position to be calling out sick again. At least not for another week or two. You let out a whine at the feeling of him slowly pulling out of you; you weren’t ashamed to say you were a huge fan of how it felt to be full of your boyfriend’s cock.

Cock warming was another favorite kink of yours. Mark on the other hand, would have to mentally prepare a few minutes prior to staying inside of you. It was hard for him to stay idle—he’s told you this many times. As much as he wanted to do whatever you asked of him and wanted to please you no matter what it was you desired, the feeling of your tight, wet and warm walls clenching around him was too much. He allowed it to happen, but not for too long. He could be the one to tap out, but a couple minutes of cockwarming could lead to another round of sex and in many cases; it did.

“What a baby, can’t even go a couple of seconds without my dick inside of her—“

“Shut up, I can go in to the bathroom and finish myself off if I wanted to—“

“We all know your fingers aren’t enough to get you seeing stars princess. And that stupid dildo you bought when I was away in Taiwan last year can’t do shit for you either.”

Thankfully, he didn’t take too long in throwing you against the bed and lining himself back at your entrance. You were seeping of your essence at this point and he swiped himself along your folds so that it would be easier for him to slip back inside. He brought his face up to your ear and his breath was hot against your jaw as he leaned in to whisper naughty words that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure.

“Only I can bring you to sheer ecstasy. Only I can get you to see white—only I can get your head spinning. My fingers; we both know how much my fingers are one of your favorite body parts of mine.” He wrapped one hand around your neck gently, making sure to glide his thumb along your pressure point while swiping some of your juices with his index finger and bringing it up to your mouth.

“Taste yourself baby. I want you to experience the euphoria I go through whenever I eat out this pretty cunt of yours. Well—back to what I was saying, my tongue, I know exactly how to use it as we make out, when I suck on this pretty little neck of yours or when I suck the life out of your pussy—so even if you were to finger yourself like the dirty girl you are, you’ll never reach the mind blowing orgasm only I can give to you. Now, I think it’s time I teach you a lesson for speaking out against me.”

You bit your lip in anticipation for the excitement that was to come; whenever Mark would get jealous or whenever you were bratty and went against whatever he commanded you to do, that’s when he would fuck your brains out. How the two of you were still going at it with such a rapid and forceful pace had yet to really process completely in your mind, but you didn’t question it. A muttered groan fell from both your lips and his as soon as he found his place back inside of you.

Immediately, he placed his face in the crook of your neck for what you were accustomed to him trying his best not to moan loudly. He dragged his teeth along the juncture of your nape before sinking his teeth in and leaving a dark love bite in its wake.

“Mark!”

You swatted his arm once you felt the spot begin to throb. Sure, you found it extremely sexy whenever he’d mark his territory because it proved just how possessive and overprotective he was over you but at the same time, hickeys were difficult to cover up and you were confident the purple mark would be on display for your professors, classmates, coworkers, boss and clients to see.

“Sorry baby, I couldn’t help myself—I’ll help you put some makeup on it tomorrow. It’s just that—ugh, how the fuck are you always so damn tight? We have sex on a daily basis, you should be stretched out by now.”

“You men obviously don’t understand the anatomy of a woman. You’re lucky you’re attractive and very sweet, you’re lacking intelligence—“

“Hey—“

“Just fuck me already asshole.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice. He went straight in to ramming his cock in and out of you. There was no time to be soft or gentle; the two of you were just moments away from your releases. You preferred the softness and romanticism that came with making love, but right now all you could think about was how amazing it felt when the tip of his cock reached your cervix.

“Feels—“

“So fucking good.”

Your breasts were bouncing up and down with every thrust and to your delight, your boyfriend cupped one of your mounds in his hand; flicking your nipple all but gently and earning himself the sexiest growl he’s ever heard in his life. He wrapped his lips around your other breast and swirled his tongue around your nipple—bringing the nub in between his teeth and nibbling on it.

“Such pretty titties—so soft, so big—your body belongs in an art museum. You’re a masterpiece. Everything about you—I can’t even wrap my head around your beauty. You’re really a sight for sore eyes you know that?”

Slowly, you shaking my brought your palm up to his face and cupped his cheek feather lightly. You brought your free hand in to his hair and softly tugged at his curly, brown locks.

“I—I love you Mark—“

“Mmm—I love you more baby girl. So much more. Every time you say those three words, I feel like a little kid who’s crush complimented his outfit. You do wonders on my heart. What did I do to deserve you?”

Out of no where, he lifted up one of your legs and placed it on his shoulder. This position allowed him to reach deeper inside of you which you didn’t even know there was more of you for him to reach.

“Shit—shit, just like that Mark—“

“You like that baby?”

You nodded in agreement fervently; he needed to know the effect that this position was having on you. Something about having him on top of you, even if missionary was a position that most people considered boring and ordinary—you felt like you were going to burst in to flames at any moment. The sound of his pelvis clapping against your ass cheeks sounded off throughout the room. It only heightened the sexual desire that already filled up the atmosphere. His grip on your lower waist tightened as the two of you grew closer and closer to your ends.

“So tight—so wet—so perfect and all mine.”

He brought your other leg up on to his shoulder and you could fill your orgasm right at the edge. A loud moan fell from his lips and he tried to conceal it by smashing his mouth against yours, but you only felt the vibration on your tongue as he hummed in contentment.

“Mark—I can’t—it’s too much—“

“I know baby, I know. I’m almost there too. Can you hold on for just a little longer?”

With all the energy you could muster, you nodded against his chest and allowed him to reconnect your lips together; his speed was relentless and with the way the bed was creaking, you knew that there was a huge chance it would break soon and you would get yet another noise complaint. Probably the seventh one in the last month. You were secretly hoping that he was closer than you were and that he was only holding on as long as possible so you both could continue your late night romp.

Your boyfriend was a nymphomaniac; sex might not have been the most important part of your relationship, but after a long, stressful day at work, he found relief in releasing his anger and frustration on your body. Making love was even better—but it didn’t matter how the two of you were intimate, just having your skin against his and your tongue battling for dominance with his, the sensation never failed to turn his sour mood in to a much happier and lighter one.

He was happiest being one with you. Just by the way he let go of your hips to intertwine your hands together, you were confident that he was about to cum. Whenever he was at his end, he’d stop whatever he was doing to hold your hands and leaned back so that he could get a better look at you. Seeing your fucked out state; sweat dripping down your neck and chest, cheeks flushed with warmth, hair sticking to your forehead, mouth gasping for air—knowing that he was the cause behind your beautiful glow, it brought him confidence and glee.

Soon, you were being filled with his warm creamy liquid in spurts—the sensation of being full of his sperm was one that you still haven’t gotten used to. It was just that mind blowing. Your orgasm followed in suit just seconds after. It felt like a tidal wave swallowing you whole, you were drowning but in the best way. It was hard to describe; but it was a high you never wanted to come down from. You were speechless; there were no words to describe just how on top of the world you were currently feeling.

Mark called it a sex high. Whenever you and your boyfriend would find yourselves tangled in the sheets, you felt like you were in another world. Maybe it was just a high off of Mark himself. He was hot; there was no doubt about it and honestly you could stare at him all day if time permitted you to. For a couple of minutes, there was a peaceful silence.

All you wanted to do was calm your rapid heartbeat and to get your breathing under control. Mark’s heart pounded against your chest and his dick that was once hard as a rock was now soft and limp inside of your cavern—neither of you moved; he was pressed up against your breasts and his head was smashed up along your collarbone. Your mind was too hazy to really feel the stickiness of his sweaty body, but if this were under different circumstances you probably would’ve pushed him off.

Less than five minutes later, Mark leaned back enough so that he had a better view to look at you. He gently brushed back some of your hair and glided his thumb along your cheek—bringing it down to your bottom lip. The soft smile he was giving you as you placed a kiss amongst the calloused digit sent electricity through your veins. In times like these; where you were bare, not just physically but spiritually and mentally and in the comfort of your boyfriends arms, you always felt so safe—so at ease, so serene, so loved.

You might have just did something so naughty, yet you couldn’t help but blush timidly. No matter how many times the two of you relished in your love for one another, you always felt so shy with his wandering eyes gazing all along your body. Even if he’s seen you naked at least a hundred times, you still found yourself turning red under his stare.

A few sweet kisses were placed against your mouth as what you assumed was a distraction because as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, he slowly pulled himself out from your slick walls. The two of you groaned at the feeling of emptiness; you gave him a glare—upset that he pulled out so soon especially since you told him earlier that you were in the mood for cockwarming.

“Mark—“

“I know, I’m sorry baby. I just want to clean you up and get us ready for bed. I think your pussy puts me to sleep a lot more often now. But if you want to take a bath, I can go prepare one for you—“

Something about the thought of fucking Mark to exhaustion made you giggle. Especially because moments ago, he was wanting to continue having sex for much longer. “No, I don’t think I can walk you asshole. I’ll just take one in the morning before my shift. But thank you. Am I wearing you out Tuan?”

“Yes and I’m not afraid to admit it. I think five orgasms in less than two hours would do that to someone. You’re so fucking sexy and so damn good to me there’s no point in trying to conceal my feelings for the sake of my pride. I’d shout it at the top of my lungs if I had to—I’m completely whipped for you and I have every intention on keeping it that way for the rest of our lives. Now, I’ll be right back okay?”

With a couple of kisses against the corner of your mouth, he disappeared in to your bathroom. It was only natural for you to snicker to yourself at the sight of his cute little butt as he quickly walked over to get a warm wash cloth and a bottle of water. You decided to take that time to reminisce on tonight’s escapade.

Every time you thought about your love making sessions with Mark, your stomach would swarm with butterflies. In the beginning of your relationship when you were just beginning to learn more and more about each other, the sex the two of you would experiment in was exciting, fun and intoxicating—not that it wasn’t like that anymore.

But now that you were both so madly in love with one another, it was more passionate, more meaningful and a lot more desirable. You always had to be touching him and without even having to ask him, he’d always have his hands on you too. The bed sank and before you could even comprehend what was going on, a wet towel was gently being brushed along your lower body.

He first got in between your thighs, making sure to wipe up any excess cum that might have dripped from your entrance. Then he brought it up to your navel, making sure to rid visible sweat—then finally he cleaned your folds and with the way a tingling sensation began to develop, you knew he was purposely taking his time to mess around with and to get a rise out of you.

Right as you were about to whine in attempts to get him to stop, he got another washcloth and wiped your face. Mark was well aware of how your skincare was very important to you. He’d watch you take the time to put on moisturizer, toner and sunscreen on in the mornings and right before bed.

It was the little things that he recognized that made your heart swell; no matter how many times a day he’d tell you that he loved you, he professed his love just a little bit more through his actions. Once he was done, he helped you put on a clean pair of underwear and one of his t-shirts—a reoccurring act of affection he did not too long after you came down from your highs.

With a sweet kiss on your forehead, he went back in to the bathroom to prepare for bed; brushing his teeth and putting on a pair of sweatpants before taking his spot next to you under the covers. By instinct, you were pulled up against his chest and his arms snaked around your hips. He left wet kisses all along your face; making sure to steal a few pecks from your lips as he smiled against your mouth.

“That was mind blowing as always. My pretty—pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect. What did I do to deserve you? God, I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve made love—“

“It’s been three days Mark—“

“Exactly. That’s a long time baby. Especially because I crave you every second of the day. I can’t get over how wonderful you are. Literally flawless. Rest up baby, once you come home tomorrow I’m having you again and again and again—“

“Oh God, how I’m not pregnant at this point is still a mystery to me. Horndog.”

He let out the most adorable little giggle while turning your body so that he was spooning you. He’s told you many times that as much as he loved being able to see your face, he was more comfortable in this position. You were confident it was because he’d get to feel your ass pressed up against his length, but you didn’t want him feeling embarrassed if that was the real reason behind. Besides, you felt so safe and protected in this position.

However, you’ve been contemplating on voicing your feelings about how nights would end right after you and your boyfriend would tap out from either exhaustion or overstimulation. Sure, you loved the cuddling and being held by him, but that was pretty much it. He’d kiss you a couple of times and then he’d say good night. If you both had even the tiniest amount of energy, you’d stay up and talk about whatever it was that your hearts desired.

You wanted to kiss him for much longer than the fleeting kisses—you fantasized about spending a little more time with his soft lips on yours. Maybe he saved the makeout sessions for the bedroom. But even during sex, the kisses were hot and wild—in the heat of the moment, but you were too busy focusing on being penetrated to really enjoy kissing him.

“Well, I mean my pullout game is the best—“

“You literally just came inside of me that’s a joke right?”

He let out a scoff of disbelief and although you couldn’t see him, he playfully rolled his eyes. “I mean, well, you know—yeah whatever. The thought of impregnating you is a huge kink of mine. You’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives. You’re going to be the best mother one day and the cutest little pregnant lady. I can’t wait to see you swollen with my baby and I’m even more impatient in finally starting a family with you. You really are the love of my life. Look at how sappy you’ve made me. Mmm, I love you, I love you, I love you. Sweet dreams my love.”

Hearing him confess all that he did about his love for you and the future the two of you had together—you couldn’t stop the smile from taking over the entirety of your face. Almost every single thing Mark said—no matter how naughty or straight up cheesy it was never failed to make your heartbeat increase. You were soon feeling silly for worrying about such a minuscule thing and you wished it could have been enough for you. Yet, the question was on the tip of your tongue; you were mentally battling with yourself.

There had to be a reason why the kissing stopped once you both reached your fill. You didn’t want to seem too clingy or overdramatic—maybe you were overthinking things. Your mind kept telling you to leave it alone and that he had his reasons, yet you couldn’t stop the tiny voice in your head that begged you to continue to pry at him. Mark looked down at you in curiosity when you turned around to face him. He lifted up your chin and furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Everything alright y/n?”

“Why don’t you kiss me more?” Your question was muffled since you were too shy to ask him out right and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you—“

“I want you to kiss me more.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean? Where is this coming from baby?”

An exasperated sigh fell from your lips and you were soon regretting actually asking him the question that’s been weighing heavy on your mind for months now. It was extremely silly now that the question was actually out there but the reason why your relationship with your boyfriend had been so healthy all these years is because conversation was one of the most important keys to making sure you were both on the same page.

The last thing Mark wanted was for you to be uncomfortable or to feel as though you had to hide your feelings for his sake. Which is why you weren’t surprised to see him looking at you worriedly, waiting patently for you to go in to further detail.

“Right before we go to bed, whether it’s after sex or just once we’re done doing whatever it is after we both come home from work, you give me a few kisses and then we cuddle and fall asleep. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy doing those things. I just—I want more. I love kissing you if you didn’t already know that by now. Kissing you is one of my favorite activities that we do because your lips are so addicting. But we only ever passionately kiss during sex and when we make out it usually leads to love making and theres really nothing wrong with that. I just wish we could kiss without having it end up or only be during sex.”

Although the lights were off and you could barely see him, you could tell he was wearing a blank expression on his face. He continued his ministrations of gliding his fingers along your sides but he stayed silent for a few moments. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole; you were so embarrassed but this was your boyfriend.

He needed to know how you felt if your relationship was going to continue as beautifully as it currently was. To your surprise, he lifted up your chin and reconnected your lips together in a very passionate kiss. His hands cupped either sides of your face and he roughly nipped and sucked on your lips; leaving you breathless as he deepened the kiss further.

It was only natural for you to smile against his mouth; you were hoping you didn’t upset him and that he was only kissing you like this to please you. You were hoping he too was finding some enjoyment in kissing you right now. As his lips continued to attack yours, he took that chance to flip you on top of your back and stole a couple more kisses before sucking on your sweet spot right below your ear. This was what you wanted; it felt so wonderful and you felt even more closer to him than you felt a little over half an hour ago with his cock buried deep inside of you.

“How was that? By that gorgeous smile of yours and the way your lips are swollen I’m assuming you quite liked that.” You nodded in agreement and stole a few kisses from the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel as though I’m not interested in continuing our intimacy once we’re about to go to bed. Trust me, kissing you is my favorite thing to do with you too. You drive me fucking crazy. I’ve actually questioned myself about this numerous times too but I just assumed you were tired and I didn’t want to press you in to doing something just because I wanted to do it. Plus—“

He led your hand down to his sweatpants and your cheeks grew warm at the feeling of his hardened cock. It never failed to make you laugh seeing as how easy it was for him to grow horny at just the simplest touch. “This is why our make out sessions lead to sex and why I was hesitant about telling you that I wanted to be more intimate with you rather than the small pecks and holding you before falling asleep myself. It’s just going to lead in to another round. God, I sound like such a nymphomaniac but I’m proud to say that I am. I got a very sexy girlfriend, who could blame me for wanting to relish in our love at least once a day? Well, now that I know how you feel y/n, I would love to kiss you more. A lot more. why don’t we experiment a little tonight and see where it leads tomorrow?” You beamed up with him and with all the energy you still had left inside of you, flipped your bodies so you were on top. It obviously riled him up and the cheeky grin he was giving you sent warmth to your core.

“That sounds like a plan. Now kiss me.”

“With pleasure.”

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 mark #got7 #got7 scenarios

122 notes · View notes

spiltscribbles · 3 years ago

Note

Hi love!! I just took a look at the prompt lists u have linked and the prompt “you said what to your teacher?” sounds like it could be absolutely hilarious if u wanna write something for that!! <33333

Notes: OMFG HIYA DAN BABEYYYY!!!! Thank you SO SO much you absolute angel face!!! This was the first thing I tried writing and actually enjoyed and just wrote it all at once in the middle of the night dlkfsajlkgjasdofiewghklsdgj THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU!!!!

You Said What To Your Teacher? | Send Me A Prompt💜

“Do you remember when we were nine and I gave you my last sparkler because Regulus was crying that he wanted your purple smoke bomb and I was left with only my shitty poppers to throw when the ball dropped on New Year’s.”

Sub half way to his mouth and mobile lodged between his shoulder and ear, Sirius gently sets down his sandwich and dabs off the splatter of mayonnaise on his cupids bow as he tries to parse out what in bloody hell his best friend is blabbering on about.

“Oh, hi, Jem. Yeah I’m doing well, mate, thanks for asking. Works the typical grind but I think Minnie is about to give me that promotion any day now.”

“It’s a simple yes, or no answer, arse.” James retorts haughtily, sounding somehow frenzied and buoyant all at once.

“Pardon me, I thought we would just have a normal conversation like typical blokes,” Sirius sniffs, tilting back on his chair and clicking around on his desktop to look at the revised dimensions of a new building his firm was employed to begin constructing in south London. “Now remind me, my sweet. Was this the same New Year’s that you stuffed that stink bomb in the back of my shirt after stomping on it so it’d explode on me?”

“That is neither here, nor there.”

“I still feel the debris on my poor back on especially rough days.”

“You’re a twat.”

“And you’re acting dodgy.”

“I need a favor, and I thought a transactional proposition would be the sort of thing that you corporate types would appreciate.” James jabs, laughter in his words. Sirius just hopes he could picture the middle finger he’s emulating through the line.

“Just because you’ve completed residency doesn’t make you a special snowflake, you do realize this, correct?” Sirius tells him, already shooting a message to Minerva and his team that he’ll be jetting off a bit earlier so he could do whatever it is that James needs.

“Slander! It makes me the most special snowflake, Black. And it eats you up inside.” James retorts, moving away from the receiver to yell something towards one of his interns about a patient or the other.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, gorgeous. Now are you going to ever tell me what it is you need from me, or keep trying to get in my trousers, because listen either option is aces on my end. I’ll just add it to the document I send Lily every week about how I’m so obviously your dream partner.”

“It always just comes back to your burning jealousy that I chose her over you, doesn’t it?” James pretends to sigh forlornly. “Listen, my love. It’s not my fault that some birds are just born prettier than others.”

“Psha, I’m the prettiest fucker you know, Potter.”

“It’s the attitude for me, just absolutely no decorum about you.”

“Is this about that snag with me teaching Haz how to properly curse at a United fan?” Sirius asks, moving to collect his satchel and jacket. “Because I stand by that. We’re a fucking Arsenal family, damn it.”

“We were at brunch when he called that poor woman a weasel faced toad, Sirius.”

“Good man,” Sirius insists, waving goodbye to the secretary who always gives him the most devoted heart eyes.

“Well, speaking of the sprog. I’m stuck here with a new bout of paperwork to get someone transported to us from a hospital in the states, and Lily’s stuck in the maternity ward till at least nine.”

“Ooo, a bit of God father/God son time then??”

“With great power, comes great responsibility,” James says gravely.

“What have I told you about your shitty nerd references and how they give me a rash.”

“Spider-man isn’t simply for nerds you absolute pleb! There’s been three bloody franchisements for him in the past two decades!”

“Imma let Harry eat ice cream for dessert, I reckon.”

“Then you’ll have Lily to answer to,” James warns, still seething from the jibe. “And if you’re taking the bike, can you at least park a block away. This new school we’ve enrolled him into this year is well and proper, and I’d not want them to think that our son’s God father is some sort of ne’er-do-well.”

“You put respect on Rosco’s name, or so help me!”

“Right, right, the only constant love in your life.”

“She’s the only one who understands me.”

“ Whatever, just try and behave decently, will you?”

“Hah, and why wouldn’t I?” Sirius asks as he tosses his helmet into the air, patting Rosco in apology for James’s impertinence.

“Hmm, we’ll see, won’t we.” James says in an irritatingly ominous tone before clicking off the line.

There are a lot of reasons why Sirius could hate James. He could hate him for forcing Sirius to join him on his morning runs, or hate him for his intensely perky attitude about every sodding thing. Hell he could probably hate him for his complete disregard of the mad sport that is American football. But all that withstanding, Sirius reasons that for today he’ll hate him for his cryptic fucking warning and how he knew this would happen and is probably cackling over it as he fills out a new set of discharge papers.

That absolute, unceasing, weasel faced, toad.

The ‘this’ that Sirius is referring to of course is the fact that Sirius is left dumbstruck and gawping as he strolls leisurely into Harry’s third year class, eyes roaming over the small cluster of children who had stayed after hours for extra tutoring and who are now just lounging around, waiting for a guardian to come and pick them up. But instead of first spotting the dark head that belongs to his God son, Sirius’s gaze focusses on a man… A very fit, very golden, very beautiful man. A man that’s all lithe limbs and honey eyes, and a small, quietly encouraging smile as he kneels down to chat with a blonde girl who’s got on a blue tutu and rainbow poncho.

“Fuck you James Potter,” Sirius hisses lowly to himself as he tries to collect his wits about him, and remind himself that flirting with his God son’s actual, fucking professor is not a thing that is approved of.

“Uncle Pads!”

Sirius starts, feeling suddenly grounded as Harry bounds towards him and hugs his torso with a tight squeeze. “Hiya Prongslet,” he says, grinning indulgently as he ruffles a hand through Harry’s wild mop of curls.

“Am I coming to yours then?”

“If you’ll have me,” Sirius winks, tapping the bridge of his specs fondly.

“Brilliant! I’ll just tell Professor Lupin.”

Oh, that’s a very sexy name if Sirius does say so himself, though he tries not to marinate on the fact as he waits patiently while Harry leads that absolutely delicious looking man towards him. And God, the way he’s tipping back his head only slightly to meet Sirius’s gaze— It’s lewd.

“You’re Harry’s God father, yes?” Is the first thing Professor Lupin says to him, stretching out a hand that’s all long fingers stained by ink, and knobby knuckles that Sirius suddenly has the insane craving to nip at.

Jesus, he needs to get himself the fuck together.

“Ahem, yes, yes. I’m that. I’m Sirius I mean— Oh, my name, and erm— I’m also serious that I am his God father, that is a thing.” Sirius rambles, feeling like a complete idiot as he takes hold of Remus’s slender hand into his own, and shakes it with two, awkward pumps— holding onto it for a beat too long.

Sirius repeats, fuck James Potter.

“Right,” Professor Lupin says with something akin to amused. “Well he’s only got his maths to finish tonight, and a bit more reading for history.”

“Oh, good. I’ll definitely help with that. I’m great with numbers.”

“Wonderful,” Professor Lupin nods at him before peering down at Harry and grinning widely. “You did great today, just keep up with your novel for Professor Meadows and you’re splendid. Yeah?”

“Thank you Professor Lupin,” Harry preens, chest puffed out not unlike how James had used to do back in their school days every time they won a footie match.

“Nice meeting you Mr— ah?”

“Black!” Sirius quickly offers, straightening up immediately like a rose bud stretching towards the sun. “Sirius Black.”

The corner of Professor Lupin’s mouth twitches up, and Sirius is struck with the searing need to see the full force of his smile directed towards him— and also to snog it right off. “Remus Lupin, just to make things even.”

And fuck.

Sirius swears— hand on his chest and face to God— that it was a flirtatious inflection that Professor Lupin— Remus— used right then, but before he can even have the chance to toy around with the development, a mother in yoga pants and Starbucks strolls in and Remus walks over to greet her hello, and before Sirius knows it, Harry’s tugging on his hand and dragging him out the room.

Damn it.

Despite his total and complete fail of a first meeting with Harry’s sickeningly attractive professor, the rest of the night turns out to go as perfectly as planned. Otherwise known as them stuffing themselves with greasy pizza, and heaps of ice cream, and staying up an hour past Harry’s typical bed time to play Far Cry instead. And if Sirius contemplates asking him more about this elusive Remus Lupin, he bites down the urge and concentrates on sticking his spoon onto his nose before Harry could beat him in their match.

It’s totally fine.

That is until it’s six o’clock in the ruddy morning and he’s woken up by the loud knocking of his front door, only to be met by the grossly chipper faces of Lily and James— that sort of glow is only a thing that happens after a good shag, and Sirius knows that for fact.

“We brought pasties,” Lily tells him as she sashays indoors, red main of hair billowing in the late autumnal breeze and her voice ringing out like she’s some sort of radio show host.

“How was last night?” James asks him as he toes off his boots and follows Lily to the kitchen.

“Fine,” Sirius gripes, still pissy from James’s cruel joke. “Haz is always great.”

“Mmm, I hope Remus didn’t give you any trouble picking him up, you’re on the paperwork and everything but it’s the first time he ever met you and all.” Lily says, faux lightly as she picks out the plates and turns on the electric kettle.

“You knew!” Sirius accuses emphatically, pointing a heated finger her way and then directing it towards James.

“Knew that he is exactly your type?”

“And that you’d look like a tosser talking to him for the first time,” Lily tacks on, giggling.

“Fuck you, and fuck your weird, married telepathy!”

“Nah, not telepathy mate,” James assures, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re just incredibly predictable.”

“We’d have to be thick not to know that you’d be a total idiot around him— You’re the worst whenever you have to talk to pretty people who you actually want to do more than just screw.”

Sirius feels himself go scarlet. “That is an attack on my person, Evans!”

“Yes, dear. I know.” Lily croons, patting him on the cheek like a doting grandmother. “But does it help that I think you should totally go for it.”

“Lily! He’s our son’s teacher!”

“Only for this year,” Lily shrugs, sitting on a stool that lines the island. “Besides, I really like Remus. We have the same cycling class and he taught me how to make my face into an emoji like I’m a Kardashian.”

“You guys talk about’m like he’s the second coming of Christ,” James harrumphs, doling out their mugs with a scowl.

“He’s just so pretty,” Sirius sighs, beyond dejected. “Did you see that little birthmark on his cheek that looks like a butterfly! And Jesus, his eyes are like a third of his face!”

“Don’t forget how well he fills out those trousers for such a skinny bloke,” Lily adds, mixing the honey into the tea that James had just poured her.

“I alas did not get a chance to give his ass the appraisal it warrants,” Sirius bemoans.

“I very much do not like the idea that my best friend and wife are thirsting over the same bloke.” James sniffs.

“Jealous, lover,” Lily leers, laughing at how James wrinkles his nose at them and kisses his cheek in reassurance. But Sirius doesn’t pay them any of his attention, is too distracted by painting the picture of Remus in his mind’s eye, and how he really does need a second look if he loves himself at all.

“He’s like those caramel lollypops from when we were kids,” he tells them unceremoniously. “But instead of that tart middle, he’s just sweetness through the center.”

“You want to lick him, huh?” Lily asks, smirking at him with a lecherous air.

“I want to lick him until he goes mad and begs me to just flip’m over and—“

“Enough!” James quickly cuts in with a smack of the hand against the countertop. “This man is Harry’s professor, I can’t have these sort of images of him while I go to pick him up after class.”

Sirius jerks forwards, beyond excited. “Then let me pick up Haz from school today, yeah? It’ll give me a chance to speak with Remus!”

“Why do you want to talk to Mr Lupin?”

The three adults turn around at once, met by the image of Harry in the spare uniform he keeps at Sirius’s house— hair sleep rumpled and specs askew.

“Hallo my beautiful boy,” Lily grins, her and James each kissing his cheek and giving his shoulders a squeeze as he sits between them.

“Why do you want to talk to Professor Lupin, Uncle Sirius.” Harry asks again, earnestly as he tares apart his cheese and veggie pasty. “Do you like him?”

“Oh, erm—“ Sirius feels his insides squirm, not sure where to step, afraid that his God son might not appreciate the fact that Sirius’s already planning out a reception party for his impending nuptials with Remus.

“I think it’d be cool if you did.”

And in an instant, Sirius feels his shoulders loosen and his smile go elastic. God he loves this kid. “yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Harry nods, taking a sip of his water to clear his throat. “Ron told me that Professor Lupin use to be married to his Uncle Fabs and then they broke up last year, so I bet he’s sad now. And you’re the best person on the planet and you always have fun! You should make him happy again.”

Sirius’s heart seizes, suddenly needing to be the person to help Remus with anything he could ever need.

“You’re a diamond kiddo, you know that?” Sirius says, standing up to lift his eight year old God son into the air and blowing a raspberry to his cheek. “Shove it to your dad, you’ll be my best man at the wedding, yeah?”

“Imma need to start smoking if he’s gonna be this much of a prat all the time now,” James mutters lowly, making it so Lily crows with laughter.

That afternoon finds Sirius parked back outside Harry’s school, straightening the collar of his jacket and combing a hand through his hair. Though once he steps into the nearly emptied classroom, he’s still slack jawed when Remus looks over his shoulder towards the door and grins at him in such a glimmering sort of way, that it punches Sirius in the fucking solar plexus!

“Mr Black, twice in one week?”

“Hah— Yeah.” Sirius hopes his smile comes out more gentle than a grimace. “It’s not far from my work, actually. So I guess I’ll be around more often.” In fact, the drive is a good twenty minutes from his office, but Sirius doesn’t think that’s really relevant.

“Lucky us.” Remus retorts, looking up and down his frame with a slow, languid sort of gaze that makes Sirius feel filleted right open. “Well I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“You can know whatever you want,” Sirius practically sputters, wonders if he should try and act cool, especially now that Harry’s wandered over towards them.

“Is that an open offer?” Remus asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and lying back leisurely against his desk.

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

Remus’s beautiful face goes absolutely incandescent right then. “Good.”

“Good,” Sirius repeats, completely devout.

“Oh, before you go,” Remus says, pointer finger raised to freeze them while his other hand fishes into a drawer of his desk. “It’s not a caramel pop, but at least the Tutsi ones are sweet all the way through.”

Sirius feels his jaw completely drop while Remus gently places the stick of the treat into his open hand, tossing him a quick wink before walking off to chat with a new parent who had wandered in.

“Harry— You said what to your teacher.”

“That you said he looked like a caramel pop,” Harry answers, totally owlish and unconcerned.

Sirius contemplates drowning into the lake, but then decides that this is a game he will not lose against Remus.

“All right, Prongslet. Let’s grab us some chocolate eggs and you can tell me everything you know about your dear Professor.”

“Okay, Uncle Pads,” Harry beams.

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist💜

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #spilt ink

57 notes · View notes

freakingbellam · 4 years ago

Text

Timeless (HP & HOO crossover x reader)

Synopsis: What would you say if I told you that Hogwarts and Camp Half-Blood are not so far apart? Yeah, Gale and Y/n would also say this is crazy. But these two girls are about to discover that even though they are far apart, the magic that surrounds them is the same. After all, what do a time travel, a fearful prophecy and a Titan about to resurrect, have in common? Certainly more than you can imagine.

Paring: Apollo x reader

Warnings: None, I guess.

Reader: Percy's step sister! reader

Word count: 1.7k

A / N: escreve o que quiser (notas da autora)

September 2010, New York - USA

Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t cry like a baby when she saw Argo II return to Camp Half-Blood. She had been forbidden to help in the battle against the giants, but she was nevertheless not full at Camp. After the near invasion of Camp Jupiter and Reyna's visit, things got messed up there.

But the best part of the return of the other demigods was seeing Percy again. He looked extremely exhausted, but happy to be back in one piece. Y/n hugged him for so long that Percy almost fell asleep in her arms.

The boy was welcomed with all the frenzy he deserved, entitled to a hearty banquet and a visit from his father, along with a very tearful Sally and a relieved Paul.

Tyson had been absolutely thrilled to see his older brother talking to his friends by the fire, which glowed high and yellow, mirroring the emotion of the half-bloods.

Despite being as happy as the others, and maybe even more so, Y/n retired a little earlier that night. She didn't walk long before her absence was noticed.

‘Mingling with the shadows? I thought this was my own thing.” The girl smiled at Nico di Angelo, who walked over to her with his hands in the pockets of his aviator jacket, which was still too big for him.

“I'm going to sleep, Nico.” She explained, continuing her way to Cabin 3. “It was a day full of emotions, I'm tired.”

Nico nodded, walking beside her. Y/n always found it fun to be the same size as Nico, but now she realized that he was a few inches taller than she was.

“Are you okay?” she asked, bringing up the subject.

“I think so.” Nico replied, looking surprised by his own conclusion. “Maybe things get better for me from now on.”

“I'm sure it will.” Y/n opened an encouraging smile. Because he was the son of Hades, Nico suffered more than all the other demigods, which worried the girl. She hadn't seen him since the war of the Titans, but she talked to Percy during her mission and discovered things she didn't want to discover.

She looked at Nico. For the first time in his life, his face looked serene, as if his problems were gone. Y/n realized that it would be better not to go into details about the problems he went through. She did not want to end his joy.

“Di Angelo!” someone called, running up to them. Y/n turned to find Will Solace smiling like a ray of sunshine. “Hi Y/n!”

“Will.” She smiled. When looking at Nico, she noticed a pink tint on his cheeks and held her laugh. “Can you take care of Nico for me? I need to go to sleep but he doesn't want to leave.”

Will smiled, realizing what she meant. Nico looked at her with anger and indignation, but he didn't seem against the idea.

“Certainly.” The blonde took a step forward. “Have a good night!”

“You too.” She raised an eyebrow at Nico and walked back to her cabin.

She was still smiling when she passed Hecate's cabin, which looked darker than ever. Her smile wilted. She had always been a little afraid of the goddess's children since she found herself a half-blood and moved to camp. But that night, something seemed comforting in the hideous darkness of the cabin. Unable to contain the impulse that occurred to her, Y/n went up on the porch and went through the open door. None of the goddess's children were there, they were probably still at the stake celebrating, they always loved a good party.

Y/n didn't know exactly what she expected to find inside, but she certainly wasn't ready for what she saw. She had never entered the cabin since she had never been invited and it didn't feel right to enter without an invitation like she did now. But what she found was an absolute void. No bunk beds, bathroom, closet or chest. Nothing for the basic comfort of teenagers. All that was inside was a torch on the floor with a brown leather-bound notebook beside it.

“Take it” A whisper said, and Y/n knelt down to better analyze the notebook.

“Who...?” She started the question, but knew at the time that she had no need to finish it. Hecate was there. “Are you hiding in the shadows?”

There was a harsh laugh, but Y/n couldn't tell where it came from. It was as if the goddess moved in every particle of air around her.

“I heard that Poseidon's children were mocking, but seeing that feat face to face is much more fun. Ares definitely didn't say enough about it.”

“I don't think he has any reason to boast about it.” She commented, but her body was tense. Something about the goddess made her feel that bad things would happen any second.

“Take the notebook.” She asked, seeming to feel the girl's tension. “Take it and bring my girl back.”

“What does that mean?” Y/n asked, but never got an answer.

After several minutes, she finally let herself be overcome by curiosity, put the notebook under her arm and ran out of the cabin.

Y/n spent a few days without touching the notebook, which was comfortably resting on the small table in her cabin. Percy asked several times what the notebook was and why Y/n didn't move it, but the girl always answered the same thing. "It's just a silly notebook." She was afraid to open it and end up triggering something she couldn't control.

Percy and the others had just returned from a massacre battle with irreparable losses, she didn't want to leave anyone alarmed by something as stupid as a leather notebook.

Y/n tried to distract herself. She would swim in the lake, duel with Percy in the arena, ask Tyson to teach her something in the forges, help Chiron with pending camp, talk about the biggest zucchinis with Rachel, encourage Annabeth to talk nonstop about architecture, sometimes make her repeat everything he had said in Greek, but nothing seemed to get her thoughts out of the notebook. Instead of being distracted, she got some scars from the duels, burns from the forges and throbbing ears, but nothing erased the notebook.

Tired of trying, Y/n returned to the cabin and spent several minutes looking at the problem. She would get up a few times, making a move to pick it up, but soon she would go back to sitting on bed. When she finally thought she would be brave enough to end the trip, someone knocked on the door.

Changing her course, Y/n opened the door to the blond, smug figure.

Y/n and Apollo had spent a lot of time together a few months before, not that any of them had a chance to do the opposite. He had helped her save the Camp when everyone seemed too busy saving the world. Now she was no longer able to get rid of the sun god, who suddenly appeared in her cabin. At least now he had learned to knock on the door before entering.

“Good afternoon, beautiful lady.” He smiled, breaking into the cottage before Y/n had a chance to expel him. “What do you do locked in that cabin?”

“Apollo, seriously, now is not the best time.”

“Every hour is the best time for Apollo!” He smiled at her and Y/n found herself unable to say no to him. The god had that effect on her, but she couldn't explain why. She just went back to bed and sighed.

“What happened, Sunshine?” he asked, now more serious.

Y/n pointed to the notebook, like a child pointing out the bully who was mistreating her. Pausing to think, it was almost the same.

Apollo's gaze followed Y/n 's finger until it stopped at the Hecate symbol on the cover of the notebook, and he froze.

“What's it?”

“That notebook.” He got up and picked up it, playing with it in his hands. “I saw Hecate with another of his once many years ago. I asked her what they were, but she cast a spell on me that prevented me from speaking for two months. Where did you find it?”

“I found him at her cabin.” The girl admitted, unable to lie to the closest friend she had at the camp until that moment. “I heard Hecate ask me to take him away. I didn't understand what she expects me to do.”

“Write.” He suggested, after long minutes of silence.

“I’m sorry?” Y/n looked at him, confused. “What if something bad happens, Apollo? I don't know if I want to find out.”

The god smiled gently, taking the book to the girl and handing it over, along with a blue ballpoint pen. Y/n hesitated for a few seconds before picking up the pen and opening the notebook. But she didn't do much more than that, as the words “Owned by G. J. W.” they magically appeared on the first leaf, in a strange black ink.

Y/n looked at Apollo for help, but he just shrugged and encouraged her to write something below. "G. J. W.? This notebook is mine, and my name has none of those letters!”

Before she had a chance to tell Apollo how ridiculous it was, the notebook replied.

G: "Who are you?"

Y: “Y/n Y/l/n, are you?”

G: "Gale Wright"

Y: “How the hell am I talking to you through my notebook? Where you are from?"

G: “England. I'm a student at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, how about you? What school of magic do you belong to? ”

Y: "I'm not going to any magic school, I'm from New York, there's no such thing here!"

G: "I thought the United States school of magic was Ilvermorny"

Y: "I am not a witch!"

G: "Oh by Merlin, are you a muggle?"

Y: "Look, I may not be a witch but you don't have to curse me!"

G: “Muggle is a term for non-wizards ... But if you are not a witch, how can you talk to me? This notebook is bewitched, only those who have contact with magic could see it ”

Y: "I didn't know that the notebook was enchanted until now ... I didn't even know about the existence of a school of magic, wizards, yes, now schools? No, things are very different here"

G: "Different how?"

Y: "I am a camper at Camp Half-Blood"

G: "And what would that be?"

Y: "Well, a camp for demigods, of course!"

Y/n waited, but nothing else happened. She looked up at Apollo, who looked as upset as she was.

“School of Magic and Witchcraft of... Hogwarts?” She asked, hoping that Apollo would say something to her.

“I've heard of that school. Hecate loves to talk about how she has an entire chain of schools that teach children to do what she does. She is very proud of it.” He explained, taking the notebook from Y/n and examining the last conversation. “I just didn't think it was real at all. All the gods think it's Hecate's invention, but no one has ever tried to prove it.”

“Well, I think we just did that.” Y/n joked, but was far from feeling the fun of the situation, because, there in front of her, there was a problem. Perhaps a much bigger problem than she imagined.

#harry potter #percy jackson #fanfic #apollo x reader #harry potter imagine #percy jackson imagine #apollo #nico di angelo #will solace #tyson the cyclops #camp half blood #hogwarts

55 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 4 years ago

Note

hi i’d like max x reader where he’s having very stressful day at work like everything that can go wrong does go wrong and the reader is his gf and bc of all this stuff going wrong he forgets that she’s supposed to visit him at work so she comes in and starts talking about her day and how great it was and then he just shoots up and goes to hug her and starts kissing her and playing with her hair and she’s like ??? cause this never happens and he just lays his head on her lap and he rants about his day and she listens and she tries to comfort him as best she can thank u 🥺

Rough Day At Work [Maxwell Lord x Reader]

Author's note: Oh. my god. This is a long one. I write a lot of Maxwell fluff but this one is by far one of my favourites. It's a journey of pure, unadulterated sweetness with a sliver of comedy. And it's set at Christmas— perfect to get you in the festive mood! Reblogs appreciated because this isn't showing up in tags.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: food mention, drink mention, brief allusions to sex, Maxwell is ~stressed~.

Rating: PG-13

Masterlist in pinned! Requests open x

Maxwell Lord had his fair share of bad days. Things almost always went wrong in his line of work, but it was almost never his fault. He could always squander up an excuse or find someone else to blame. But today it was one thing after another.

He was late. He had a meeting with the board team first thing but as the Christmas traffic filled the bustling roads of DC, he had already missed the first twenty five minutes of the conference. He practically fell out of the black limo that drove him to work every morning, plodging his feet through the thick layers of snow. It was so deep this morning, the ice cold water seeped through his leather Armani shoes and even through his favourite cashmere socks. The ones with little purple polka dots. He shivered uncomfortably as the clumps of ice sat in between his toes, melting, and so every footstep made an obscene squelching noise. He didn't have the time to fuss around and change his shoes. The bottoms of his tailored pants were dripping. He bolted through the glass revolving doors of Black Gold Cooperative, trailing a pool of water behind him. His receptionist Anna, and his assistant Raquel, stood up abruptly, their eyes widening as they saw their boss in such a hurried frenzy.

"Mr Lord! You have your nine o’ clock meeting and it’s now nine twenty-” Raquel raised her hand and called for him, but he didn't bother to stop in his tracks.

"Yes Raquel, I know!" Maxwell yelled after her, already tapping his feet impatiently as he waited for the elevator. "Cmon, cmon…" he grumbled as it slowly made its way down from the 25th floor to the ground floor.

When Maxwell entered the board meeting, his cheeks were a rosy pink from the cold winter weather. His eyes were glazed and the waves in his dark blonde hair were falling out of place. He had styled it perfectly this morning, the same way he did it every morning. You had even helped him, brushing through his locks when he had hopped out the shower. But now he looked as though he had just run a marathon, breaking out in a cold sweat. He swore if he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, he'd have a heart attack. But surely, the day couldn't get any worse. Right? Maxwell had made it to the meeting, albeit late. At least he was there.

Wrong.

"I am so sorry." he scrambled, plopping his briefcase down on the table and slipping past the many occupied chairs. He slumped down in one eventually, pulling out in a notepad and pen. "Bad traffic," he huffed. "Can someone give me the lowdown?"

He eventually looked up to see his company. Twelve older ladies in pink button down dresses and white frilly aprons, their hair tied back into matching low buns. Maxwell froze up, his gaze wandering from woman to woman as it slowly began to sink in.

"Mr Lord…" the woman at the head of the table said cautiously. She looked just as baffled. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've worked for Black Gold Cooperative for five years now but never did I expect to see you in person."

Maxwell looked back at the other girls who were all nodding in agreement, beaming with excitement. "Uh." He didn't know what to say, but instead, he placed his pen and notepad back into the inside of his suit jacket pocket and stood up. "I think- I think I'm in the wrong meeting." he announced.

"We are the body of staff who are responsible for the cleanliness and hygiene of your company sir. We spend ten hours a day washing and tidying every surface, every inch of this building. We take great care of it." one of the ladies spoke up and Maxwell became even more confused. Although clearly, on a day like this, it didn't take much to confuse him.

"The cleaning staff have meetings in here?" He wondered out loud, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left his lips. He didn't want to come off as rude. "I mean, I'm your employer. Pft, of course I know that you have meetings. And I'm glad you do so. It's good to take direction!" he was doing that motivational voice he used on television, making the 60 year old cleaners swoon with admiration. "I- I should get going but. Uh, yes. Lovely to meet you all."

"Mr Lord!" A lady with ebony hair and crinkles by her eyes stood up, handing Maxwell his briefcase. He nodded appreciatvely and walked to the door where her hand met his arm and stopped him in his tracks. "Could I get your autograph, please? I'm just a huge fan of your infomercials."

Maxwell checked the time on his wristwatch. Almost half an hour late, but he couldn't deny one of his cleaners. Once upon a time he wouldn't have bothered giving them a second glance yet he leaned over the table and signed his name on a sticky note. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Pamela," she beamed brightly.

"Nice to meet you Pamela, have a good day." he pat her shoulder and went open the door when another voice yelled his name.

"Mr Lord!" a woman with white hair stood up, a grin pinned on her face. "I'm Doris," she introduced confidently, but her voice was shaky with her old age. "I remember when your father was on the television. I used to clean for him too, you know? Oh, he was such a lovely gentleman. And you look more and more like him every day. Such a handsome man, you are."

Maxwell stiffened up, his hand grabbing the door handle so hard he was sure his knuckles might've turned white. "Oh," was the only thing that could really leave his lips. He wanted to leave.

"Mr Lord, your father I mean-, every Christmas he'd give little old me a kiss," she recalled, her heart blooming at the memory. "Of course I wasn't old then. I was young. And beautiful."

Maxwell exhaled and nodded his head, unsure of really what to say or where this conversation was going. All he could think about was the board meeting that he was already extremely late for. Maxwell pushed down on the door handle and Doris let out a long dramatic sigh, making Maxwell pause once again to hear what she had to say. "I haven't been kissed like that, by a man as attractive as your father, in years." she sighed longingly, fluttering her eyelashes.

That was when Maxwell realised. He sighed quietly, his eyes scanning the room. All the cleaners were staring at him, expecting him to make his move on poor old Doris. Then, he turned back to Doris and offered her that familiar Hollywood smile. The same smile that the whole world was used to seeing on five o'clock television. He took her hand and brushed a soft kiss over her wrinkled knuckles before gently dropping her hand again. There was no denying the pink blush that coloured her cheeks. The action earned a few squeaks and squeals around the room and while they were all babbling with excitement about what they'd just witnessed happen to their friend Doris, Maxwell took the opportunity to run.

He did finally make it to the meeting. He squeezed past his business associates, trying to locate his chair around the table. In the process, he knocked over a cup of coffee. It spilled all over Maxwell, and one of his colleagues. Maxwell's pale blue suit jacket was now stained with brown espresso, and he knew it would take more than just a few washes to get the stain out. He muttered a small 'sorry' before finding his seat and taking out his notepad and pen. Just as he finished writing the date at the top of his piece of paper, the director of the meeting called it quits and everyone flustered out of the room.

All this had happened and it was only ten in the morning.

Luckily, that was the only meeting of the day and he knew he was going to be spending the rest of the day in his office doing paperwork. That was easy enough. Maxwell padded into his enormous office which took up the entirety of the top floor at Black Gold Cooperative headquarters. He shut the double doors, finding peace in knowing that there was no need for anyone to come in and distract him. Maxwell tugged off his blazer and hung it on the back of a chair. He unclipped his suspenders that held his tailored pants up, and threw them to one side, along with his shoes and soaked socks. He padded into the closet at the back of his office and shuffled out of his pants, changing into some grey sweatpants.

He smiled, beginning to feel warm again. Wearing the sweatpants reminded him of you and it made him feel like he was at home. He remembered a few weeks into your relationship; your surprise when you caught a glimpse of his wardrobe. Not a single piece of casual wear in sight. You wondered if Maxwell Lord had ever known the comfort of sweatpants and so, that afternoon, you went out and bought him a pair. They changed his life. Maxwell would always favour his suits, that's just who he was, but he would love to wear the sweats when he wanted to lounge about in the house.

He was tired. His hair was still damp, the dark blonde waves curling at the nape of his neck and falling out of place every time he tried to remedy it. He still smelled vaguely of espresso, and was still haunted by the interaction of Doris the cleaner. He pursed his lips together into a thin line at the memory of kissing her hand.

Maxwell walked over to his desk and sunk into his chair, holding his head in his hands. Finally some peace.

Until there was a loud knock at the door. Maxwell swung his head back and groaned. "Come in!" he shouted, quickly composing himself for whoever wished to see him. It was his blonde assistant, Raquel.

"Hi sir!" she beamed, waving her free hand and placing a glossy catalogue on the table.

"Raquel." Maxwell nodded politely, sitting up and looking at the catalogue she had positioned before him.

"For the Christmas gala," she explained, flicking open the pages and pointing out different things. She'd carefully highlighted and labelled everything she wanted to show him, making it easier for his conveience. "I was thinking huge black and gold balloons with the company name on. Gold confetti. Banners and streamers hanging from every corner. A buffet, and every table cloth will also have the company's name on, printed in small, glitter ink." Her loud and chatty voice was giving Maxwell a headache.

"Yeah, balloons with Black Gold Cooperative written on really scream ‘Have a Very Merry Capitalist Christmas’." he sighed, slowly looking up at her. She blinked a few times. "Well Raquel?" he quizzed, growing irritable. It wasn't her fault, it's just everything was beginning to build up. She blinked again, dumbfounded by his comment. "Is that what Christmas is about to you?"

"W-what do you mean?" she asked nervously, removing her hand from the catalogue and taking a step back from his desk.

"What about red and green balloons? We'll have a Christmas tree in the ballroom. We could even make it family friendly and hire a Santa Claus for the kids to meet." Maxwell suggested. "And no weird company merchandise."

Raquel blinked, not saying a word. It had never really dawned on Maxwell how much you had changed him. His staff realised practically instantly— from the moment he came into work after the first time you had spent the night, it was like he was a changed man. He held the door open for people, he wished people a good morning. And as your relationship with him developed, you opened up a brand new side to him. He became more affectionate and caring for those around him, a feeling he had shut off from the world for his entire life.

He had never cared for Christmas, never cared as much to host a Christmas gala either. His father died during the festive season and it hadn't been the same without him. His mother didn't do much to celebrate. Maxwell had everything he always wanted; all the new toys and fanciest designer clothes. But it meant nothing to him without his father. Christmas meant nothing to him without love. That's why it all changed when he met you. You finally brought love back into his life, and everything felt whole again. You completed him. You taught him how to enjoy events and celebrate. You taught him happiness but most importantly, you taught a cold and broken man how to love and be loved in return.

The Christmas gala was your idea. One night, around a month ago, you and Maxwell were both lying in bed together. Maxwell had expressed to you that he wanted to do something special for his staff at work. Over the past few years since he had met you, he'd slowly been softening with the people around him. Christmas time was no different and his staff were always jolly to receive a hefty bonus from him. But they didn't expect anything more.

You came up with the idea of a gala, and Maxwell couldn't help but smirk a little when you mentioned it. He knew that your suggestion was deeply rooted into the fact you had always wanted to attend a gala, wear a beautiful dress and have your hair and makeup done. More importantly, you wanted to go to a gala with Maxwell and have him by your side looking as handsome as ever. The prospect excited you so much. With Maxwell, you knew that you wanted for nothing. That he could give you anything and everything. But you would never ask. You wanted him to know that for as long as he was with you, you had everything you needed.

Normally for Maxwell, gala’s were a place for adults only. Bars that served the best alcohol and a place where men who were just as rich as him would meet and schmooze. Before you, gala’s were a fine opportunity for Maxwell to meet a lady and take her home. That's all he enjoyed them for. But you had taught Maxwell that there was more to life than wealth, women and good champagne. He was so sure you'd love the idea of turning the gala into a family friendly party, and he was certain that his employees (the likes of the cleaning staff, for example) would love the ability to bring their families to such a high class event.

"Don't worry Raquel," Maxwell smiled. "Forget about the party planning for now. I know someone who would love to organise the Christmas gala." Today was tough, but everytime he thought about you, he couldn't wipe the grin from his face. He was one lovesick puppy. "Could you bring me a coffee?"

Raquel nodded and picked the catalogue back up, padding out his office without saying another word.

At around twelve o’clock, Maxwell was about to take his lunch break- but the phone on his desk began to ring. "Maxwell Lord." he introduced himself, holding the phone to his ear. It was the CEO of Powergrid Electrics, an electrical company in Rome. Rude and unhinged, the boss man reminded Maxwell of a version of himself that he had left in the past.

Maxwell had almost sealed an amazing deal with the company, but it had seemed that the CEO hadn't received a vital part of the contract. Trying to regulate the anger that was building up inside of him, Maxwell shakily put the phone back on the hook and called his second assistant, Emmerson, into his office.

"It's impossible," Maxwell furrowed his eyebrows together in bewilderment, after explaining the situation. He scrambled amongst the papers that were stacked mountain high on his desk. "I put it in the envelope and had Raquel send it off to Rome last week. I remember… I know I didn't forget. I never forget." he said, trying to sound as composed and confident as possible. There was no mistake in the worried little warble in his voice, though.

Emmerson, Maxwell's second assistant, wasn't sure if he was going to regret his next move. "Sir," his voice was timid and small. Maxwell's eyes snapped up to meet Emmerson's and Emmerson felt his heart rate increase rapidly. Emmerson reached over Maxwell's desk, picking up a folded piece of paper with a sticky note on top that read 'For Raquel: give to Rome'. "Is it possible that this is the missing part of the contract? That maybe, you might have just, forgotten to give it to Raquel?" he said slowly, trying to beat around the bush as much as possible.

Maxwell slowly reached over to the slip of paper, unravelling it like he was scared to see what the contents would reveal. He sighed out loud when he realised he had, in fact, forgotten to give Raquel the document, and there was no one to blame but himself. He ran his fingers through his hair, contemplating what to do next. He didn't want to believe he was out of options. He wasn't one to give up, especially when it came to the sanctity of his business.

"I need you to go to Rome." He said immediately and Emmerson's jaw dropped.

"I- I'm sorry?" Emmerson quizzed, confused and still slightly afraid of how impulsive Maxwell was being. "With all due respect, can't you just call Rome and ask for an extension on the deadline?"

Maxwell scoffed. "Call Rome? I can't just call a country," Emmerson was about to interject to explain that wasn't exactly what he meant but Maxwell didn't allow it. There was something about the way Maxwell's brain worked… he didn't get where he was today from taking the advice of his assistants. "You will go to Rome and give Powergrid Electrics the remaining part of the contract yourself. I trust you."

"But sir-" Emmerson raised a shaky hand.

"Oh, I see, you're worried about accomodation," Maxwell assumed, chuckling lightly. "I'll get you a five star hotel and give you a spending allowance of three hundred euros a day, how does that sound? No need to fret. Hurry along now."

"Mr Lord," Emmerson deadpanned finally, causing Maxwell to look up at his assistant in bewilderment. Emmerson was still afraid of his boss, of course, but he knew he had to stand his ground. "I can't go to Italy."

There were a few beats of silence. "What?" Maxwell questioned. "Don't be ridiculous. It's a free trip of a lifetime. You have an easy job to do. You can spend the rest of the day souvenir shopping. I don't care. Just get the contract delivered." He ordered.

"No." Emmerson put his foot down.

"No?" Maxwell repeated, raising his eyebrows like he was due an explanation.

"Mr Lord, I didn't want to say anything because it seems… you've had a lot going on today. But my girlfriend, Katherine, she's due our baby. See, we're having a son. I'm not sure if you knew… I mean, you probably didn't know. But, I promised Katie- uh, Katherine, that I'd meet her at the hospital after my shift. I wish I could help you sir, I really do. But I love my girlfriend and I've been waiting nine months to meet our son so if you please-"

The old Maxwell Lord would've burned red with rage, firing poor Emmerson on the spot, right then and there. How dare he question Maxwell. How dare he deny Maxwell. How dare he choose his love life, his family over his job. But right now, Maxwell couldn't help the small smile creep upon his lips. He was overjoyed, just wishing Emmerson had told him of the amazing news before now.

"Congratulations," Maxwell said, his voice quiet but his eyes gleaming. "On the addition of your family. That's really great."

Emmerson stood as still as ever, blinking a few times. He waited for Maxwell to snap and finally lose it. He was waiting to get the sack. But nothing. "Uh, thank you, sir." Emmerson replied hesitantly, like he wasn't sure what to expect from Maxwell.

The following few moments of silence, Maxwell spent thinking about you. He thought about how radiant you glowed this morning and how he wished he didn't have to leave your side. You were the love of his life and quite frankly, since meeting you, he understood the priority of choosing love over wealth. He finally had someone he could hold onto during the dead of night, someone to ramble to about his feelings, someone he could kiss and love and cherish forever.

Maxwell Lord finally loved something more than his business and that was you. Emmerson coughed awkwardly, breaking the silence and Maxwell flicked his wrist up, checking the time on his gold Rolex. It was almost twelve thirty.

"Why are you still here?" Maxwell grinned, swinging his hand to point a finger towards the door. "Go! You have a son to meet!"

"Sir, I don't finish until five o’ clock." Emmerson replied, stiffening up.

"No no no! Go home, go see your girlfriend, please." Maxwell stood up and shook his assistants hand. "I have no doubt you'll be an amazing father," he said genuinely. "And I'll have Y/N send over some flowers and a donation after the birth."

"You- you're really letting me off work early?" Emmerson beamed and Maxwell nodded his head enthusiastically. "Oh how can I ever thank you?"

"I hear Maxwell is a popular choice of name for baby boys right now," the CEO charmed and Emmerson let out a small but genuine laugh. "Now go! Tell Katherine I send my love."

"I will do, thank you sir." Emmerson grinned, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack and merrily running out of the office.

Maxwell sunk into the plushness of his leather chair, still unable to escape the smile that played on his lips. He imagined the possibility of you, the love of his life, carrying his child. He thought about how beautiful you would look, how you'd glow, and how he'd simply give up everything to take care of you. Make sure you had everything you needed during your pregnancy. He imagined building the nursery with you and picking out some books on parenting, studying with you so he could ensure that he'd be the best father ever. He'd never wanted kids. In fact he hated the idea of having little mini Maxwell’s running around and causing fuss and torment, but the idea of you raising them alongside him made his heart flutter. He was certain of the unconditional love you’d have for them. Similar to the unconditional love he had for you.

His eyes darted back to the unsent report on his desk and he sighed. Guess I have to call Rome after all. He thought.

Maxwell was counting the minutes until he could go home and see you. He wanted nothing more than to curl up on the sofa with you, the fire on, and watch one of those cheesy Christmas movies you liked so much. He heard the doors to his office open, frustration racing through him as he prepared himself for the next bout of 'things going wrong'. He'd normally yell at someone if they entered his office without knocking but he was so tired. So so tired.

When he saw you, he swore his heart stopped. There you were, his blessing in disguise. His angel. You were wearing your red winter coat and knee high brown boots, and you plopped your purse and a bag on one of the many side tables in his office. You took off your gloves and pulled off your wooly bobble hat, stuffing them lazily in your pocket and offered him a happy smile. He scrambled to his feet, not taking his eyes off you for a second and ran up to you, sweeping you off your feet and spinning you around. You squealed, grabbing onto him for your life and he put you down, pulling you into a tight warm hug.

"You're freezing cold." he grimaced, pulling your hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants in hope they'd warm up.

"It's snowing again." you whispered happily, smiling into his neck. He was delighted, having you in his arms and being able to smell the familiarity of your shampoo and perfume. He knew for sure now, he was going to be okay.

"I can see." he replied, moving one of his hands up to your face and padding out the pearly snowdrops that were balanced in your hair. "I am so glad to see you sweetheart." he hummed, sending vibrations through your body. You felt your heart blossom in your chest at his sentiment.

"I told you I was coming this morning," you giggled, eventually pulling away from him and taking your arms out of his pockets. You cupped his face and ran your fingers through his dark blonde hair, fixing it as best as you could. "I brought us lunch." you told him, fishing into the bag and bringing out boxes of pastries and cakes. "From that bakery we like."

Maxwell gasped and you looked up at him confused. "Baby, I completely forgot you were coming."

"I hate to say Max but you do look a little disheveled," you folded your arms across your chest and checked out your boyfriend's appearance. "What's with the sweats and… where is your tie and suspenders?" Your eyes met his feet on the floor and they widened almost comically. "Max! Where are your socks and shoes?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "Long story." he took your hand and pulled you over to the couch, pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around him and he placed a hand on your thigh, pushing under your skirt and rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

"Tell me everything." you replied and he looked up at you with nothing but adoration in his brown eyes.

"Traffic jam on the way to work because of the snowstorm last night, and the streets were so busy with it being so close to Christmas. We couldn't get parked out front so I had to get out of the car and walk through five inches of snow to get into work. I was already late for my meeting. Soaking wet and uncomfortable," you let him ramble on, watching intently at the way his expression would change as he recalled different events in his day. You began to play with his hair, seeing that he was getting flustered at the memory of it all. "I was late for the meeting, I ended up in a whole different meeting. I didn't know the cleaners in this building even had meetings!"

"The cleaners?" you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. "You sat in on a meeting with the cleaners?" Maxwell nodded sollemnley and you nudged him playfully. "I love that."

"Well, I didn't. They're all lovely women. But this one cleaner, Doris…" he fumbled around with his fingers. "I ended up kissing her." you pulled away quickly, knotting your eyebrows together. "No! No not like that," Maxwell said quickly, pulling you back onto his lap and wrapping his arm around you. "She's like 90, said she used to work for my father and every Christmas he'd give her a kiss. She'd start talking about how she's never had a kiss from someone as handsome as my father in years. So I gave her a polite one, on her hand. And baby, I ran. As fast as I could, I had to get outta there."

You smiled. "Max, you probably made her day. That was really sweet of you."

He brushed off your comment, taking a dramatic exhale and continuing his story. "Finally got to the meeting, spilled coffee over myself and one of my associates. But by the time I had finally settled, the meeting was over. So I went back to my office and changed out of my wet, cold, coffee stained clothes and sat down. Raquel came in. She was planning the Christmas gala but it all sounded so… corporate. Not what Christmas is about at all," he explained and you nodded in agreement. "Anyways I suggested that we change the gala this year so it's family friendly. In the spirit of Christmas."

"Oh Max!" you beamed, snuggling into his chest. He smiled to himself proudly, knowing that he had made you happy.

"You good with that?" he chuckled, running his fingers through your hair.

"Yes!" you squeaked, pushing yourself back up and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "I have so many ideas."

"That's great honey," he laughed. "Because I told Raquel to forget about the gala. I figured you could plan it. You're great at stuff like that, and I know how much it means to you. I want the gala to be perfect for my staff and their families, and I trust you more than anyone else in the world."

"I can't wait," you smiled merrily, already weighing up the different ideas you had in your head. "Was Raquel okay with you taking the party planning duty away from her?"

"I think so," Maxwell replied. "She has a lot on her plate, being my assistant and all. It's a busy time of year and I think she'd appreciate having less to do."

"Well, it really does sound like you've had an eventful morning."

"Oh, I'm not finished," Maxwell grimaced and you braved yourself for the impending chaos. "Rome called and told me that the CEO of Powergrid Electrics only received half of the binding contract. So I was going to send Emmerson to Rome because I needed that contract in the hands of the CEO by midnight tonight. But Emmerson told me he couldn't. His girlfriend is having his baby today. A little boy. So I let him go home early."

"Emmerson's going to be a father?" you gasped and Maxwell nodded. "That's so wonderful! I should send him some flowers."

"I already told Emmerson you would." Maxwell grinned.

"Oh a baby boy too! How lovely. We have to go meet the baby when he's born. Please please please." you whined, fluttering your eyelashes.

"Okay darling." Maxwell pressed a kiss into your cheek.

You stood up and brought the bag over to the couch, taking out the little boxes and handing them to Maxwell. You opened them up and started to eat, as you told him how your morning had gone.

"After you went to work, I cleared up and did the dishes that you had left from breakfast. Max, I was soooo tired from last night," you blushed and his mouth twisted into a proud smile. "So I went back to bed and slept for another hour. Then I got up and took a bubble bath. Oh!" you scrambled around in your purse, taking out a fresh Polaroid and showed him it. It was a photograph of his white long haired cat, Lady, with bubbles balancing on her head. "She kept me company while I was in the bath." you smiled and Maxwell laughed.

"She looks so funny with the bubbles on her head." Maxwell took the Polaroid from your fingers and admired the cat. He was never particularly fond about animals, or having pets, but you loved them. In the first year of your relationship, Maxwell asked what you wanted for your birthday. As always, you told him that you didn't want anything materialistic, that he was all you needed. But you did tell him about an animal charity that you were so passionate about. He remembered leaving you at home and telling you that he was simply 'heading out'. He had planned on visiting the charity and making a donation in your name, as part of your birthday present. But he didn't leave the shelter empty handed.

A white fluffy cat with long whiskers and big blue eyes. Her eyes reminded him of sapphires. She mewled and padded towards him, her tail waving happily as she rubbed her cheek on his leg, circling around him. "Ah, she's a darling," the lady who was showing Maxwell around told him. "Unfortunately, she's been here with us longer than any of the other cats. She's not that good around people. But I must admit, she likes you a lot. In fact, I've never seen her so confident around another person before."

Maxwell dropped to his knees and tickled her head. She began purring erratically, rubbing her face along the edges of the rings on his fingers. "Nobody wants her?" Maxwell asked, not taking his eyes from the happy kitty. He picked her up, ignoring the white cat hair that malted onto his suit. She rubbed her soft face against his cheek and sniffed his cologne.

"No." the lady replied sadly. Maxwell smiled.

"I'll take her."

And that night, Maxwell came home with a new addition to the family. You were overjoyed, but no one was happier than little Lady Lord who had found her fur-ever home.

He placed the Polaroid on one of the side tables, promising you he would find a frame for it. "How was your bath darling?" he cooed, pressing his lips along your jaw.

You giggled, nuzzling your head into his shoulder. "Relaxing, lit some candles, done a little reading. After my bath I got dressed and tidied up the bedroom. I turned on the radio and they were playing Christmas songs. Oh! WHAM have just brought out a new one, it's really good. Hmm, me and Lady played for a little while and she let me brush her hair. Jeeves offered to drive me to the bakery but I really wanted to walk in the snow. Get some fresh air. And now I'm here! With you!"

It was safe to say Maxwell's morning was a lot more chaotic, but he was comforted knowing that you had been relaxed while he was going through all the antics.

"Your morning sounded amazing, darling." he kissed your forehead and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You let his lips brush over your skin, fall down to your nose, and eventually take place on your own lips as he leaned his forehead against yours. You giggled, his hair falling out of place again slightly and tickling you as he kissed you. You pulled him closer, encouraging him to deepen the kiss and laced your fingers in his hair. He pulled away to catch his breath but peppered small yet passionate kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“You’re being so affectionate,” you smiled, eyes sparkling with love.

“What can I say? I like to kiss you.” Maxwell exhorted and leaned in again, pressing another kiss into your lips. This time he swiped his tongue along the plumpness of your bottom lip, begging for entry. You pulled off him and he moaned. “Whaaat?” He pouted playfully and you rolled your eyes, earnestly laughing at how cute your boyfriend was.

“We shouldn’t do this at work,” you giggled.

“Baby we’ve done a lot worse than just kissing on this sofa, if you remember.” Maxwell charmed and you felt your cheeks heat up as you nodded slowly.

"The highlight of my day though, is being here, with you." you promised.

"Yeah," Maxwell hummed. "Me too."

"I'm proud of you." you said out of the blue, putting your sandwich down and wiping your mouth. Maxwell looked at you, confused. "You've had a bad morning. But you acted so selflessly today. Everything from signing autographs in your office to kissing that old maids hand, giving Raquel less work to do and letting Emmerson be with his girlfriend. You… you surprise me everyday Max. And I fall in love with you more and more everyday."

"I remember when we first met… I would've never dreamed of doing any of this." Maxwell admitted sheepishly.

"I know, I remember," you recalled. "I fell in love with the man you were then, but I somehow think I love you even more now."

And with that, Maxwell pulled you into a kiss. The curve of his nose nudged against yours and his hands pulled you into his lap, knocking the boxes of food onto the floor as you straddled him. "I love you so much." he announced.

Maxwell rarely said I love you's. But that was okay because you knew he loved you from his actions. You knew he loved you from the small kisses he'd give you on a morning, and the way he'd pull you into a hug every evening after work. You knew he loved you from the way he'd shelter you from paparazzi and squeeze your hand tight whenever you felt overwhelmed. Actions spoke louder than words. But coming from Maxwell Lord, hearing those three words struck you like a bolt of lightning. They were just words, but they meant everything to you.

He meant everything to you.

Permanent taglist~let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first

#max lord x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

165 notes · View notes

citydreamgrls · 4 years ago

Text

yule ball

george weasley x fem!reader

words: 3,629

a/n: the growing love I’m getting on all my weasley fanfics is amazing, I cannot thank everyone enough so here’s a yule ball one shot instead hope u enjoy !! :))

warnings: mentions of alcohol (?)

George had decided he wanted to go to the yule ball with her the second they announced it, unable to miss the excitement light up in her eyes as the girls around her squealed.

With the fear that someone else could beat him to it, he raced to catch her, Fred mumbling something about how they had a class with her first thing as he left. But he just ignored him, weaving through hoards of people filing out of the great hall.

“Woah steady,” Y/n had laughed, seeing the redhead running towards her in the hallway like a madman. “Who’s died?”

“You wanna go to the ball with me?” He asked, eyes wide and waiting, but still she giggled at him and nodded.

She had presumed he’d asked her because it was an easy choice, they were all friends for a long time, so it would make sense for him that she’d say yes. On the other hand, there was a part of her that was excited to be his date to the ball. As much as she loved Fred equally, something about his brother’s gaze made her heart warm just a little and the idea of spending more time alone with him made her blush to herself.

“He has to have a thing for you,” Angelina pressed, having thought the same thing for years on end. This was just adding fuel to her argument. The twins were messing about across the classroom, unbothered by the dark haired teacher sending them daggers.

“We’re going as friends,” Y/n laughed, trying to finish her potion before Snape came round to check them. Her friend was no help as usual, just flicking through the textbook and gossiping about her day.

“Did he say that?” She asked. “Well, no bu-” “No buts, it’s a date y/n.” “Stop it. He sees me as a friend, that’s all.” She scoffed, finally completing the task and sighing with relief as Snape got nearer.

Deep down she hoped Angelina was right, that her talk of his glances and lingering smiles when they were together was true. Y/n wanted more than anything to not make a fool of herself though, which had held back her feelings all these years in fear of rejection.

That evening she sat with the twins at dinner, as she had done since the first night she arrived at Hogwarts. Fred was doing his best to turn his water into wine, with no luck and George was grilling her about the ball as she tried to eat.

“No I haven’t picked a dress George, I only found out today.” She scoffed, slapping Fred’s hand away from her plate as he tried to steal another roll. “Stop it,”

“Well I just heard some of Ginny’s friends talking about it,”

“They’re probably just over-excited,”

“Aren’t you?” “I’m looking forward to it, but it’s not my wedding day. I have more time to plan.” George nearly choked on his food at the mention of weddings, hoping his half-wit brother hadn’t mentioned anything. But Fred was too busy eating to care about their conversation, so it’s possible he had actually managed to keep his mouth shut this time.

As the week passed slowly, most people flew into the frenzy of finding a date for the ball, or picking out a dress last minute. But y/n was grateful that she had organized it all earlier on, as Angelina’s constant need for an opinion was becoming more and more distracting.

“What about this one?” She pushed the magazine into the sleeping girl’s face.

“I’m not awake,” Y/n grumbled.

“You are now, so look!”

“It’s very nice.”

Angelina groaned and fell back onto her own bed.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“They’re all very good choices, you’ll look great regardless. And I'm sure Fred will think the same.” It was nice to not be on the receiving end of the teasing as Angelina had been asked to the ball by the remaining twin, it gave y/n all the ammunition to joke around with her friend.

“Yeah but your dress is gorgeous, everyone will be looking at you.” She huffed, making the other girl snort herself awake with amusement.

“My dress is black, that’s it.”

“Yeah well it looks really good on you, and I’m sure George would think the same.” The girl groaned, knowing better than to let her guards down with her best friend around.

“Go to bed already!”

“I need to choose one y/n,”

Y/n got up out of bed, grabbing a blanket and heading for the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping in the common room,” She glared and huffed off, her friend still calling after her.

“But the dress!” It called for a big eye roll as she reached the bottom of the stairs, spotting one of the twins with her back to her near the fire. He turned round after hearing Angelina’s voice booming.

George laughed at the sight of her wrapped in a blanket, a scowl plastered on her face.

“Can’t sleep?” He teased.

“Don’t. I’m very sensitive.”

“Oh don’t I know it, remember when Fred and I tried to prank you with that faulty alarm clock.”

“I almost cut both your heads off.” She laughed, only now able to see the funny side of it, and sat beside the boy as he finished writing a letter.

“Good thing you didn’t, or else you’d have no date for the ball.” He smiled at her like he always had done, but paired with those words it felt so much more different.

She couldn’t hide her own smile if she wanted to, turning away a bit as she did.

“Angelina won’t shut up about it.” Y/n pulled the blanket over herself as George let her lay down on him, staring into the fire as it burned brightly.

“I’m sure she’s just over-excited.” He teased her.

“I got my dress by the way, so you don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

“What’s it like?”

“You’ll find out at the ball nosey.” He nudged her shoulder, making her laugh ever so slightly. It made his heart swell, he loved being the one to make her smile.

They stayed like that as y/n began to drift off, George not wanting to move her, so he just stroked her hair lightly and let the fire burn out into the night.

When they woke up, it was morning and neither of them had moved from the common room sofa. Fred was shaking his brother awake with a yawn.

“Get her up, it’s late.” He grumbled and the boy just nodded, shaking y/n until she rose quietly.

A few days later, when y/n was coming back from the bathrooms with her hair freshly washed but still wet, she heard the true commotion of the Gryffindor girls preparing for the ball the next day. It was a flurry of face masks, nail varnish and teeth whitening strips.

“It came!!” Angelina screamed in joy, bursting into the dorm with a package almost as big as her. She had been worrying about whether or not her dress would arrive before the ball, after spending days trying to decide which one was perfect, but it had done so just in time.

She had barely had a chance to hang out with the twins lately, being too busy studying for her classes and helping Angelina sort out everything. Not having time to sit down for a meal when her homework had begun to pile up, so she sacrificed that time to make sure all her essays were completed in time.

Angelina had gathered a whole group of girls into their dorm to hang out, so y/n excused herself to the common room to paint her nails, not wanting to gas them all out with the fumes. To her relief it was empty, giving her some time to relax. It had struck her how nervous she actually felt about the ball now that it was close, she worried whether she could go the whole night with George before her feelings got the best of her.

She sighed and pulled a foot up to the sofa, reaching down to gently swipe the colour across her nails. The heat of the ever-burning fire helped to dry them off after each coat.

“Can’t sleep?” A voice from behind her teased.

Y/n turned around, smiling when she saw Fred and George coming from the hallways.

“There’s a slumber party going on up there, I’m staying well away!” She sighed, going back to her nails.

The boys took a seat nearby, still in their uniform. She squinted at them both for a second, only George cracking a small smile as she observed them.

“What have you been up to?” The girl accused.

“Nothing at all,” Fred blatantly lied.

“Tell me now.”

“We set off stink bombs in the Ravenclaw bathrooms,” George scoffed, unable to keep their classic prank a secret.

“You’re weak.” Fred complained, slumping further into the armchair.

“You two are like kids”

They stayed with her for a while, Fred quickly getting bored and going off to get changed. But George was a little longer, not wanting her to be on her own all night. He stayed silent as not to distract her, instead he just watched her concentrate. Maybe he had seen it the other night, maybe it had slipped his mind then, but he realised how much he appreciated her face.

How it lit up so much when she was happy, how it glowed in the sunlight. George also adored her without makeup on, not that he’d ever tell his brother that, but she was truly a natural beauty at its best. Wet hair, pyjamas and no makeup on. Yet he was suddenly realising how incredibly lucky he was that she even agreed to go to the ball with him.

“You okay?” Y/n asked, not looking up but now noticing his silence. Something he never did.

“Uh yeah fine,” He laughed it off. “I’m going up to bed.” She looked up, surprised but still sporting a smile as he stood up.

“Sleep well.” He nodded in response and fixed his hair slightly. “Oh and George.” He turned, now behind her on the sofa. She twisted around just a bit, not wanting to smudge her work. “Come here.” She grinned and he leant down, hesitantly.

The girl reached a hand up and ruffled his hair, a laugh spilling past her lips perfectly. George almost blushed like a little boy as she did it, quickly laughing it off and hurrying up to bed before y/n could notice just how flustered she made him.

If y/n had thought the previous night had been manic, then the night of the yule ball was an apocalypse. She’d heard every girl’s problems circulate through her dorm as she tried to do her makeup, a new one arising with every passing minute. She didn’t mind too much, not having to fix them she focused on herself and getting ready in time.

George was sitting in the common room, with a lot of the other Gryffindor boys who were waiting for their dates, fixing each other's robes and checking their hair in the few mirrors. He wasn’t focusing much, just watching his feet as people around him talked about something stupid. He was nervous now, just doing nothing. The footsteps were light, and he hadn’t noticed them until Fred nudged him.

“Look,” He whispered to his brother, nodding to the archway beneath the dorm room steps.

Y/n stood there, surprised to see so many faces staring back at her. All the boys in the room were shocked at her change of appearance, used to her being in the school’s uniform or just comfy clothes.

Now she had her hair perfectly curled past her shoulders, and that black dress fitted her perfectly. George thanked god silently in that moment that she had kept it a secret from him, because it was incredible.

She laughed lightly as her date stood up amongst the small crowd, quickly going over to take her hand. The noise resumed, conversation finally returning but the looks not stopping until they left the common room. Y/n’s heels sounded as she passed by them all, hand in hand with George who couldn’t have felt luckier in that moment.

“You look amazing by the way,” He beamed as they walked through the castle together towards the great hall, where already most of the school was dancing.

They danced for hours, the boy spinning her round over and over just to see that smile across her face when he did. Not that she could stop smiling, being with George made it so easy to forget about everything else in the world. She never wanted it to end.

“I like being with you y/n,” The tall boy had whispered to her while they danced slowly amongst other couples, she had rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed. Her throat froze up as she tried to reply calmly.

“I’m glad you asked me,” She answered, after a painstaking few seconds. Letting the boy release the breath he’d held since he’d uttered those words.

They danced in silence, a mutual understanding of their feelings spreading between the two. Fred and Angelina smiled over at them, both of them now knowing the truth as they saw their friends finally doing what had been hinted at over the years.

Once the dance was over, neith y/n nor George wanted to part ways. So the redhead snuck her out of the great hall, out of the castle and down to the black lake where they could spend just a little more time alone. It was late now, and the girl hoped that everyone would be too tired to come looking for them, maybe then she could stay with the Weasley boy all night.

Her dress was short and the night was cold, especially by the lulling water.

“Take this,” George took his dress robes off and wrapped them around the girl, his hands slowing as her face shone in the moonlight. She blushed at his gaze, making him laugh lightly. They sat by the water, the boy with his arms close around her as she still shivered only slightly. “We can go back if you’re too cold?” He offered, not sure why he was still whispering, but it calmed her.

“No, it’s fine.” Y/n reassured him. “I don’t want to go back yet,”

“Me neither.”

Hours passed as if they were fleeting seconds, ticking by without their knowledge until the sun began to rise and they laughed together. It peeked over the surrounding mountains, hitting them both with a blanket of warmth. She smiled up at George, her eyes glimmering perfectly. No matter how hard he tried, the boy couldn’t help but fall in love with her every time their eyes met.

She made him so brilliantly nervous, so much so that he longed for that moment she would smile or laugh because of him, and he’d forget how to breathe. That feeling in theory would scare George, but in practice it was the best thing he had ever felt.

Until y/n took that jump and reached up for him, her hands going to his face gently. That feeling of her undivided attention made him want to run into the lake with glee, as the girl's gentle lips hit his hard. He could feel that built up tension in her kiss, that she too had been wanting this as badly as himself.

George would later tell his brother that he could’ve died happy in that kiss, he would have let the girl stab him in the back if it meant she would press her lips to his just one last time. Which of course made Fred tease him endlessly, but he was in a daze over her.

But in the moment he took his chance, with the knowledge that it could be his only one, he kissed her with all the passion his body had. His arms wrapping tight around her waist as she ran her hands through his long hair, making him fight back a desperate whimper. The sweet taste of her felt like a drug upon George’s tongue as he held her closer by the second.

A cough from behind startled the pair, causing them to pull away, but the boy wouldn’t let go of y/n. Scared that she wouldn’t come back.

“Thought I’d find you sluts here,” Fred laughed, obviously drunk from whatever he’d been hiding in his robes all night. He squinted at the sun as he stumbled down the hill towards his brother and friend.

Y/n stood, her hand quickly slipping into George’s as she too didn’t want to let go just yet. His heart leaping bounds as she squeezed tight.

“Have you two been here all night?” Fred slurred, wobbling into his brother’s side. George propped him up and they walked up the hill towards the castle.

“Uh yeah sort of… have you been looking for us all night?” Y/n laughed as they reached the courtyard, letting the twins have a much needed rest on the stone wall.

“Angelina went off to bed so I went to find Dean and Lee for some drinks. The last thing I remember is Mcgonagall waking me up outside her classroom.”

“You slept outside transfigurations?” George scoffed, slightly out of breath.

“Must have,”

It seemed that more people had started waking up now, as Angelina appeared from the castle, running across the courtyard to see her friend.

“Darling!” Fred cried out, almost falling over his own feet. The girl just laughed and ignored him, George quickly telling y/n he’d see her later before dragging his brother away.

“So… you obviously never came back last night.” Angelina grinned, seeing her friend watch the redheaded boy she’d been with leave. She was still in her dress and heels with George’s robe over her shoulders.

“I’ll tell you about it once I’ve slept,”

“I bet you haven’t gotten any sleep you naughty thing!” “Lina! It wasn’t like that.” Y/n laughed, taking her best friend’s arm and heading up to their dorm.

After sleeping most of the day, she then found Angelina waiting excitedly on her bed for the girl to tell her every detail of the night. Once she was satisfied with the story the girl went downstairs, leaving y/n to wash up and wake up properly.

It was a sunday, and people were either still hungover like she had been or having to do last minute homework in the library. Luckily she’d prepared well and had the whole day to do as she pleased.

“Fred’s out like a light,” George laughed, making the girl look up from her book. She’d come down to the common room to sit by the fire, still cold from spending the night in a short dress and the boy’s thin robes, which she had yet to give back to him.

He came and sat beside her, smiling as she pushed her book away and gave him her full attention once again. The boy put an arm around her, letting her snuggle into his side as he had done all those nights ago.

“About this morning,” George started, feeling the girl in his arms tense a little “I’m sorry I didn’t make the first move.” Y/n went loose again, smiling up at him and shaking her head.

“I don’t care about that, I’m just glad you didn’t shove me away.” She joked.

“Are you kidding? I’ve had the biggest thing for you, for what feels like forever now?”

“Really?” She squinted, watching his face for any falters.

“Oh ask Fred, if he ever wakes up from his coma, I’ve told him more than I can trust him with. All of it to do with you.”

The girl blushed again, just urging him to hold her closer.

“I’m glad that you kissed me y/n, I wish I had done it sooner but really… it was all perfect.”

“Thank you for taking me to the ball, and being my date, and for feeling the same way about me.”

The two kissed once again, their faces illuminated by the fire’s glow as it crackled lightly. Everything around them faded away as both George and y/n wandered whether it was just them left in the world. At least that’s what it felt like.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Fred came sloping down the stairs wrapped in a thick blanket. He had been calling for his brother for about ten minutes now, with no response. That was because the slightly older twin had put a silencing spell on the room, not wanting the sweaty creature he had once known as family to ruin any moment he could spare with y/n.

“I think i’m gonna vomit.” Fred announced from the bottom of the steps. His face pale and gaunt. George didn’t look over before he spoke.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” He laughed, presuming the twin was just poking fun. Y/n’s gasp at the sight before her, however, led him to believe differently.

“Oh he’s gonna puke alright.” She grimaced, getting up and rushing off before she witnessed anything more. “I’ll see you at dinner George!” She called back making him smile, even as she was escaping the grim sight of Fred she still wanted to see him later.

He would have remained blissfully ignorant in his thoughts of y/n, if it wasn’t for the sound of belching beside him that ripped him away from that happy moment.

120 notes · View notes

nalgenewhore · 4 years ago

Text

storm

essar x lorcan, alternate canon au, domestic fluff, word count: 1556

Outside, the storm rages. The windows and cupboard doors rattle, the noise forcing tension to crawl up her spine. Essar sighs softly and turns over again, just as a clap of thunder erupts in the skies above. The female startles, immediately reaching for her bedmate.

As she stretches towards him, she hesitates, her eyes tracking over his slumbering face. He’s been so tired lately, what with all their preparations for the winter. She shouldn’t bother him, she thinks. With another sigh, Essar returns to her spot and tucks her hands beneath her pillow. She closes her eyes, but the flash of lightning is bright and they open a moment later.

She curses into her pillow, frowning in annoyance. Essar peeks out at her mate, who has hardly moved, except to rub the tip of his nose and wrinkle his brow. She turns her head and watches him, silent. Something in her chest calms as she continues staring at Lorcan, but she knows that sleep will still evade her. Carefully, the Fae gets up from her bed and pads across the mat-covered floor to the door of their bedroom.

Essar slips through the door and walks down the hall, Lorcan’s shirt falling to her mid-thighs. Her bright eyes trail over their cosy cabin, seeing the fire that glows in the coals of their fireplace. Before it, on a soft wolf pelt rug, her clothes are still laying rumpled from their… frenzy. A smirk pulls at her plump lips and Essar scurries into the kitchen, her body recalling his warmth. After her tea, she’ll curl up next to him and his presence will soothe her back to sleep.

The storm attempts to shake the house, but it doesn’t bother her as much anymore. Essar feeds kindling and larger pieces of wood into the oven, summoning her flame to set it alight. The heavy kettle is still halfway full, so she won’t need to fetch water for it. She puts it down on the metal surface and takes a mug down from the shelf.

She spins to the island counter, where they keep a collection of various everyday dried herbs to make their drinks. There’s a hand-sized mortar and pestle next to the collection. Essars plucks a small jar from the neat row and pries the cork off with an audible ‘pop’. She tilts it to the side, trying to determine how much of the tea blend is left.

A week or so ago, they traveled to the nearest village to stock up on supplies that were hard to come by, like specialty dried flowers and roots, dairy products like butter and a dozen pints of goat milk, eggs, flour, and sugar too. Their pantry is well stocked and Essar knows they don’t need to worry about starving over the colder months.

She takes a small linen bag and shakes some of the blend into it, then ties the drawstring closing shut and puts it in her cup. While she waits for the kettle to boil, Essar keeps her eye on the weather outside, watching it whip at their sheet-covered crops. A slight frown graces her brow. She doesn’t like to see their plants so abused.

It doesn’t take long for the kettle to boil. When its steam billows in the air, Essar lifts it off of the stove and carefully fills her cup a few centimetres beneath the rim. Then she lets it steep for a few moments as she hunts for the honey. She knows her love has hidden it somewhere. It’s a joking habit of theirs, wanting to keep the sticky-sweet treat all for themselves.

Essar finds the jar quickly and takes the teabag out. As she stirs in some honey, she hears steady footsteps tracking across the wood floor, made audible so that she isn’t scared moments later. Two big, tattoo-covered arms circle around her waist and his head comes down to rest his face in the crook of her shoulder. “Essar,” Lorcan grumbles, clearly displeased from waking up to an empty bed. He sniffs and presses his lips to the curve of her neck, his lips brushing against her, “S’matter, love?”

“Nothing,” she murmurs back, resting her free hand on his forearm. “Just can’t sleep. The storm.” Essar stirs in her honey and turns to look at him. Lorcan’s eyes are shut and she grins, leaning back against him. She loves the way his shoulders curl around her, protecting her.

He hums, “Why didn’t’cha wake me?”

“You… you were sleeping. And you’ve been working so hard lately.” Heat blooms across her crescent-shaped cheeks, knowing that he’ll think her reasons ridiculous. The male leaps at chances to comfort her and fuss over her. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Lorcan gently nips at her soft brown skin, his elongated canines scratching harder than the others. “You could never bother me, Tangaroa.”

She smiles and turns her head to kiss his temple, “Alright, darling. Would you like some tea?”

He sighs through his nose and lifts his head, humming lowly. “No, s’alright. Just wondered where ya were.” Lorcan taps Essar’s hip so she’ll turn and she does, her tea cupped between both hands. Lovingly, with such care, he brushes her wavy hair back and kisses her forehead, “Is it the storm?” His mate has never taken well to them. Storms don’t frighten her, per se, they simply disrupt her sleep and are a tiresome, stress-inducing nuisance.

Essar nods, “Yes. Come sit with me.” She reaches behind her to take one of his hands and neatly spins out of his arms, leading him to their living room. They bypass the large couch in favour of the armchair. It’s a snug fit, what with Lorcan’s towering stature. Essar is not a small being either – the top of her head comes just past his chin. Her legs are across his lap, her backside on the cushion beside his left thigh. Lorcan rests a hand on her thigh and eases his other arm around her waist, his fingers splayed across her ribcage.

She laughs when she sees his eyelids drooping and kisses the bridge of his nose, “Tired, are we?”

He smiles softly and nods. Blinking hard a few times, Lorcan sits up straight and strokes his thumb over her side as Essar sips on her sweetened tea. “Gimme a sip,” he implores her, nudging his chin towards her mug.

Essar smirks and arches a brow up while she moves her drink away from him. “Thought you said you didn’t want any.”

His grin widens, showing her those dishy dimples that they both know she’s weak for. “Just a wee bit, my love.” She rolls her eyes and concedes, letting him have a taste. In thanks, Lorcan kisses the curve of her shoulder before resting his chin atop her head.

She nestles into him and clicks her tongue, “Ya big thug. Stealing your mate’s tea. How shameful.”

Lorcan huffs a laugh through his nose and winds his fingers through her hair, his neat nails scratching her scalp. Essar melts instantly, near purring as her eyes become hooded and gently slip shut. Unseen by her, the male smiles a pleased smile, pride sparking in his chest at the sight of the female he adores happy under his care. Her lashes flutter as she opens her eyes, staying curled where she is, and finishes her tea slowly.

He takes her empty mug and puts it on the end table, right next to a stack of books. “Feeling ready to sleep now?” Lorcan asks her softly, petting her hair gently. Essar hums and kisses the underside of his jaw.

“Yes, but… only if you… carry me,” she whispers, voice drowsy and sweet.

“Of course,” Lorcan tells her, hooking his arm beneath her knees and the other across her shoulders. He cradles her against his chest and stands smoothly, walking across the cabin. The storm seems to have lessened in its intensity, the strikes of lightning softer, the rolling of thunder gentler.

He bumps the door open with his hip and kicks it shut, remembering to not use full force. Essar is seconds away from true slumber, he can feel it as she becomes heavier and heavier in his arms, relaxing into him. He won’t do anything to jeopardise her rest.

The layered blankets and quilts on their bed are rumpled, pushed to the foot of the mattress. Lorcan sets Essar down and eases himself beside her. She makes a noise in the back of her throat and shifts closer to him as he pulls the covers over them.

Essar fits herself against him, stretching her arm across his waist and hitching her leg over his hip. Her head is rested against his chest. Lorcan runs his hand down her side and fits his hand in cradle above her hip, making the shirt she’s wearing bunch up. He rubs his thumb over her waist and she hums again, shifting so that her chest is cushioned against his.

He buries his face in her hair, smelling her gentle sea salt and tiare blossom scent. “I love you, Ess.”

More asleep than not, his mate mumbles an incomprehensible jumble of words, but he smiles all the same, knowing exactly what she’s saying. With all that I am, and with all that I ever will be.

<3<3<3

an: i realise i dont have a taglist for this so......im going to tag a couple people who i know appreciate essar n lorcan <3 let me know if u want to b added for future writings !

@sassyhobbits @hellasblessed @ladyverena

#essar x lorcan #essar #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore #also essar is tall because ! it's ! what ! she ! deserves !

41 notes · View notes

whack-ed · 4 years ago

Text

TIMELESS (INTERACTIVE HP & HOO CROSSOVER)

Synopsis: Alex finds Hecate's notebook and discovers about the wizarding world and about Y/n.

Paring: In the beginning it's platonic!fred & george x reader, but I promise that in the end it is fred x reader.

Warnings: None, I guess.

Reader: Slytherin!Female

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: In this chapter, Y/n appears little, but it is extremely important.

September 2010, New York - USA

Alexa would be lying if she said she didn’t cry like a baby when she saw Argo II return to Camp Half-Blood. She had been forbidden to help in the battle against the giants, but she was nevertheless not full at Camp. After the near invasion of Camp Jupiter and Reyna's visit, things got messed up there.

But the best part of the return of the other demigods was seeing Percy again. He looked extremely exhausted, but happy to be back in one piece. Alex hugged him for so long that Percy almost fell asleep in her arms.

The boy was welcomed with all the frenzy he deserved, entitled to a hearty banquet and a visit from his father, along with a very tearful Sally and a relieved Paul. Tyson had been absolutely thrilled to see his older brother talking to his friends by the fire, which glowed high and yellow, mirroring the emotion of the half-bloods.

Despite being as happy as the others, and maybe even more so, Alex retired a little earlier that night. She didn't walk long before her absence was noticed.

“I'm going to sleep, Nico.” She explained, continuing her way to Cabin 3. “It was a day full of emotions, I'm tired.”

Nico nodded, walking beside her. Alex always found it fun to be the same size as Nico, but now she realized that he was a few inches taller than she was.

“Are you okay?” she asked, bringing up the subject.

“I think so.” Nico replied, looking surprised by his own conclusion. “Maybe things get better for me from now on.

“I'm sure it will.” Alexa opened an encouraging smile. Because he was the son of Hades, Nico suffered more than all the other demigods, which worried the girl. She hadn't seen him since the war of the Titans, but she talked to Percy during her mission and discovered things she didn't want to discover.

She looked at Nico. For the first time in his life, his face looked serene, as if his problems were gone. Alex realized that it would be better not to go into details about the problems he went through. She did not want to end his joy.

“Di Angelo!” someone called, running up to them. Alex turned to find Will Solace smiling like a ray of sunshine. “Hi Alex!”

“Will.” She smiled. When looking at Nico, she noticed a pink tint on his cheeks and held her laugh. “Can you take care of Nico for me? I need to go to sleep but he doesn't want to leave.”

Will smiled, realizing what she meant. Nico looked at her with anger and indignation, but he didn't seem against the idea.

“Certainly.” The blonde took a step forward. “Have a good night!”

“You too.” She raised an eyebrow at Nico and walked back to her cabin.

She was still smiling when she passed Hecate's cabin, which looked darker than ever. Her smile wilted. She had always been a little afraid of the goddess's children since she found herself a half-blood and moved to camp. But that night, something seemed comforting in the hideous darkness of the cabin. Unable to contain the impulse that occurred to her, Alexa went up on the porch and went through the open door. None of the goddess's children were there, they were probably still at the stake celebrating, they always loved a good party.

Alexa didn't know exactly what she expected to find inside, but she certainly wasn't ready for what she saw. She had never entered the cabin since she had never been invited and it didn't feel right to enter without an invitation like she did now. But what she found was an absolute void. No bunk beds, bathroom, closet or chest. Nothing for the basic comfort of teenagers. All that was inside was a torch on the floor with a brown leather-bound notebook beside it.

“Take it” A whisper said, and Alex knelt down to better analyze the notebook.

“Who...?” She started the question, but knew at the time that she had no need to finish it. Hecate was there. “Are you hiding in the shadows?”

There was a harsh laugh, but Alex couldn't tell where it came from. It was as if the goddess moved in every particle of air around her.

“I heard that Poseidon's children were mocking, but seeing that feat face to face is much more fun. Ares definitely didn't say enough about it.”

“I don't think he has any reason to boast about it.” She commented, but her body was tense. Something about the goddess made her feel that bad things would happen any second.

“Take the notebook.” She asked, seeming to feel the girl's tension. “Take it and bring my girl back.”

“What does that mean?” Alex asked, but never got an answer.

After several minutes, she finally let herself be overcome by curiosity, put the notebook under her arm and ran out of the cabin.

Alexa spent a few days without touching the notebook, which was comfortably resting on the small table in her cabin. Percy asked several times what the notebook was and why Alex didn't move it, but the girl always answered the same thing. "It's just a silly notebook." She was afraid to open it and end up triggering something she couldn't control.

Percy and the others had just returned from a massacre battle with irreparable losses, she didn't want to leave anyone alarmed by something as stupid as a leather notebook.

Alex tried to distract herself. She would swim in the lake, duel with Percy in the arena, ask Tyson to teach her something in the forges, help Chiron with pending camp, talk about the biggest zucchinis with Rachel, encourage Annabeth to talk nonstop about architecture, sometimes make her repeat everything he had said in Greek, but nothing seemed to get her thoughts out of the notebook. Instead of being distracted, she got some scars from the duels, burns from the forges and throbbing ears, but nothing erased the notebook.

Tired of trying, Alex returned to the cabin and spent several minutes looking at the problem. She would get up a few times, making a move to pick it up, but soon she would go back to sitting on bed. When she finally thought she would be brave enough to end the trip, someone knocked on the door.

Changing her course, Alex opened the door to the blond, smug figure.

Alexa and Apollo had spent a lot of time together a few months before, not that any of them had a chance to do the opposite. He had helped her save the Camp when everyone seemed too busy saving the world. Now she was no longer able to get rid of the sun god, who suddenly appeared in her cabin. At least now he had learned to knock on the door before entering.

“Good afternoon, beautiful lady.” He smiled, breaking into the cottage before Alex had a chance to expel him. “What do you do locked in that cabin?”

“Apollo, seriously, now is not the best time.”

“Every hour is the best time for Apollo!” He smiled at her and Alex found herself unable to say no to him. The god had that effect on her, but she couldn't explain why. She just went back to bed and sighed.

“What happened, Sunshine?” he asked, now more serious.

Alexa pointed to the notebook, like a child pointing out the bully who was mistreating her. Pausing to think, it was almost the same.

Apollo's gaze followed Alexa's finger until it stopped at the Hecate symbol on the cover of the notebook, and he froze.

“What's it?”

“Write.” He suggested, after long minutes of silence.

“I’m sorry?” Alex looked at him, confused. “What if something bad happens, Apollo? I don't know if I want to find out.”

The god smiled gently, taking the book to the girl and handing it over, along with a blue ballpoint pen. Alexa hesitated for a few seconds before picking up the pen and opening the notebook. But she didn't do much more than that, as the words “Owned by (your initials) ” they magically appeared on the first leaf, in a strange black ink.

Alex looked at Apollo for help, but he just shrugged and encouraged her to write something below. "(your initials)? This notebook is mine, and my name has none of those letters!”

Before she had a chance to tell Apollo how ridiculous it was, the notebook replied.

Y: "Who are you?"

A: “Alexa Pearson, you?”

Y: "Y/n Y/L/N"

A: “How the hell am I talking to you through my notebook? Where you are from?"

Y: “England. I'm a student at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, how about you? What school of magic do you belong to? ”

A: "I'm not going to any magic school, I'm from New York, there's no such thing here!"

Y: "I thought the United States school of magic was Ilvermorny"

A: "I am not a witch!"

Y: "Oh by Merlin, are you a muggle?"

A: "Look, I may not be a witch but you don't have to curse me!"

Y: “Muggle is a term for non-wizards ... But if you are not a witch, how can you talk to me? This notebook is bewitched, only those who have contact with magic could see it ”

A: "I didn't know that the notebook was enchanted until now ... I didn't even know about the existence of a school of magic, wizards, yes, now schools? No, things are very different here"

Y: "Different how?"

A: "I am a camper at Camp Half-Blood"

Y: "And what would that be?"

A: "A camp for demigods of course!"

Alexa waited, but nothing else happened. She looked up at Apollo, who looked as upset as she was.

“School of Magic and Witchcraft of... Hogwarts?” She asked, hoping that Apollo would say something to her.

“I've heard of that school. Hecate loves to talk about how she has an entire chain of schools that teach children to do what she does. She is very proud of it.” He explained, taking the notebook from Alex and examining the last conversation. “I just didn't think it was real at all. All the gods think it's Hecate's invention, but no one has ever tried to prove it.”

“Well, I think we just did that.” Alex joked, but was far from feeling the fun of the situation, because, there in front of her, there was a problem. Perhaps a much bigger problem than she imagined.

tagging mutuals: @nebulablakemurphy @jamilelucato @inglourious-imagines @clarissaxpearce @beiahadid @idontknowwhatthisisfam @kpopgirlbtssvt @shinydragoness @snitches-at-dawn @freddieweasleyswife

20 notes · View notes

nonsensical-twistedriddles · 5 years ago

Note

Ooh! If asks are open, can I ask you for a mermaid reader x dorm leaders+ octanivelle? Like, its canon that the mc is from another world, so what if she is a mermaid from a world where magic barely exists? Like, she can freely turn human at will but that's about it. Assuming that everyone has a crush on her, but hasn't confessed, how would they react to the reveal?

hello hello ! asks are usually open since i don’t have request limits and i write down all the ones i wanna do in my notebooks (or save them as drafts)ヾ(＠^∇^＠)ノ i get this strange sense of happiness when writing them all down with their categories and specific highlights. i hope you enjoy ! unrelated but someone said that lilia was like rei sakuma and hshshsh ive pulled out all my undead albums and started jamming to all the songs again,, call name, call name, we are undead!

📝to note: (1) i couldn’t write anything about vil ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚ (2) length (and possibly comprehensibility) varies because i ran out of coffee at home and was half-asleep for most of these.

riddle rosehearts

Riddle had been reluctant to even participate in today’s swimming lesson but begrudgingly put on his attire and stood at the edge of the pool, glaring at the water as if it were an old enemy. It wasn’t a total loss, you were there-- nervously fidgeting beside him. He’s been crushing on you hard, to the point that his ears turn red and his stomach flutters with butterflies just with your presence.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see you anxiously eyeing the pool. “Are you feeling alright?” he asks you, voice laced with worry. Your reply came out garbled, like you were trying to say something but somehow forgotten how to speak. He leaves you alone then but would occasionally glance at you, concerned.

When it was time for you to showcase your swimming capabilities, all the worry Riddle had for you simply washed away the instant your legs transformed into a mermaid’s tail fin.

He tries to be nonchalant about it but couldn’t help gawking at you as you did your laps. When you finish and settle to prop yourself up on the edge of the pool in front of him, you catch him staring at you. “It’s strange, isn’t it,” you say, sheepishly smiling to yourself as you collect your wet hair into your hands then wring all the water out of the strands.

“N-No!” he shakes his head with raised hands. “You don’t look strange at all, if anything you’re probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen-!” he blurts out, before bringing his hands up to silence his traitorous mouth. You stare at him with wide eyes. “O-Oh, I-,” you fumbled for words as your cheeks tinge red like blooming roses. “I see.”

After that, a silence settles itself in the air, rendering the two of you into amiable discomfiture.

“Rosehearts, it’s your turn!”

Ashton’s booming voice makes you both jolt, ruining the moment. Reluctantly, he smiles at you and heads off.

leona kingscholar

You always had a weird fishy smell to you.

At first, he thought nothing of this and continued to hang around you from time to time. “You know what her scent reminds me of?” Ruggie had told him once while handing him a sandwich from the cafeteria. “She kind of smells like the Leech brothers.”

“What do you mean?”

Ruggie scratches the back of his head. “They’ve got that sea smell to them, you know? Like how most merfolk do.”

Since that day, he’s been trying to find out why you smelled that way. You were magicless so he wasn’t about to jump into conclusions but after doing a little digging and investigating on it for weeks, all evidence pointed to one thing. He didn’t want to pry anything out of you so he kept his mouth shut until the day you revealed it to him.

It was during PE class. You had told Leona that you wanted to tell him something before going over to the school’s swimming pool. He had played it cool and quietly waited on you to say what you wanted to tell him.

“Leona, I’m actually a mermaid,” you say with downcast eyes while twiddling your thumbs.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I know it’s hard to believe but— wait what? You know? How?”

The surprised look on your face makes him chuckle. He gives you a moment to take it all in before going into full detail on how he found out; “You honestly reek of fish.”

azul ashengrotto

Azul thought he knew everything that there is to you. From your hobbies to your favourite music genre to your secret comfort place inside Night Raven College. You happily indulged all of his impudent questions. Yes, you preferred ice cream over cake. Yes, you were losing sleep because of Grim’s snoring. No, you don’t hate him and never thought any less of him after his overblot episode.

He liked your transparency-- admired it even. Around you, he felt like he was underwater but instead of having the constant sense of dread, he was at ease in the waters of your presence. There was never any need to worry over being judged.

Now when you had asked him to show you around his hometown and he had told you to wear something casual, he hadn’t exactly expected you to show up as a mermaid. You were so stunning that he lost his composure just from the sight of you.

“Did you-,” he clears his voice, “Did you drink a potion?”

Laughing, you reply, “No, this is what I really am.”

What you really were. Azul shamelessly examined you for a while as he took you to see boutiques and cafes, envious of your tail’s pale rounded scales and stylish web-like dorsal fins but all the while swooning over how breathtakingly beautiful you looked. When you had asked him if he was comfortable enough to change forms, he lets out a nervous laugh then hides his flustered face.

“I’d rather not embarrass you.”

floyd leech

Floyd had always found you interesting, it’s why he liked to keep close to you.

Whenever you were around, his heart would thump so fast in his chest that he’d grin and run up to you. “Little shrimp~!” was his usual greeting, his voice jingly as he takes you into his arms. He’d never tell you but he liked having you in his arms, as much as it terrified you to even be enveloped in them.

“That’s what you do when you hunt down people!” you complained, “I’m never sure if you’d just like to greet me or if I’ve done something wrong every time I see you.”

“Ah~ That’s the fun in it though!” he said, flashing his sharp teeth at you.

When you transformed in front of him, his eyes widened in delighted surprise. He takes your mermaid form in, ooh-ing and aah-ing at “-how pretty you looked!” before taking you around Octavinelle’s waters and making you participate in make-up competitions just so that he could get to see how fast you swam or strong you were.

jade leech

Jade always had his suspicions.

He wasn’t sure when it started but subconsciously he kept note of the things you did and said before coming into the realization that you have become someone very dear to him. You always spoke about the sea with a fondness that made it seem as if it were your home and frequently asked him to tag along with you to swim around and explore his dorm despite having already done so before. When you had asked him to wait then transformed in front of him before taking him out around Octavinelle, he couldn’t help but feel comforted at the fact that you trusted him enough to reveal this long held secret.

“You’re not mad?” you asked him, shyly peering at him from behind a bed of seaweed. He gives you his signature Jade Leech smile, one that made it seem like he was laughing at your very notion and finding you amusingly silly.

“No, not all,” he says, his eyes crinkling, “in fact, I feel very honored that you’ve told me.”

kalim al-asim

Kalim grew up in the land of Hot Sands where, instead of water, the waves were made of gold shimmering grains and that “swimming” in it would leave you parched and drenched in sweat (he would know, he learned that the hard way!). Now swimming always brought a smile to his face. Partying in pools and sharing laughs with your friends, those were certainly fun!

Though today’s visit to the pool was more of an academic requirement than a time for leisure, Kalim still beamed brighter than any star because he was taking his PE swimming class with the light of his heart: you!

Like a toddler, he swung his feet over the edge of the pool and dipped them into the water beside you. “Aaahhh~ Today’s going to be a really great day!” he twitters on, making you chuckle at his childlike enthusiasm. “Really? Why’s that?” you ask him, sinking your own two legs into the pool and looking at him intently. Kalim, suddenly growing self conscious because of your gaze, looks away and rubs the back of his neck. “Well-” he starts, letting his confidence ease back into him as he meets your eyes, “because I’ll be swimming with you!”

You blink at his words. For a second, you stare at him in surprise but his smile gets to you and makes you laugh. “Yeah, it does feel kinda great.”

When Ashton calls you up to the platform, Kalim positions himself at the other end of the pool and cheers you on. “Go Y/N! Go~!”

Ashton’s whistle blows a second later, making you jump. Kalim eyes widen as he watches you transform mid-air before plunging into the pool. When you surfaced, his heart was sent into a frenzy. Your hair and scales twinkled and your eyes, bright and demure-- you looked like a goddess, emerging from the sea to claim his soul.

The second you change back and dried off, he pops up beside you with gleaming eyes and bombards you with countless praises and questions: “You looked so cool!” “Can you control your shift?” “Your scales were such a pretty bright colour!” “Do you think we can go to sea adventures together?”

idia shroud

Idia didn’t really want to be here.

The only reason he was was because his brother insisted on it and managed to drag him to class before he could properly lock the door. If he knew that PE today was going to be a swimming class, he would’ve persisted to not come at all.

“Ah, this sucks,”Idia mutters under his breath as thoughts of what could have happened if he weren’t here swarmed his mind, feeding into his growing bitterness. Clicking his tongue, he folds his legs into his chest and frowns into his knees then stares at the clear shimmering surface of the pool water.

“What sucks?”

Idia jolts at the sound of your voice in his ear. He moves his head a fraction to the right and somehow almost kisses you with how close your face was to his. Instead your noses touch, surprising you both. “Y-Y-N?” your name sputters out of his lips as his face flushes at the sight of your smile. He squirms to get away from you but only manages to get a few breaths in before slipping.

As he lays on the ground, feeling completely defeated, he brings a forearm over to cover his eyes from the sun’s mocking glare. Ah, the gods are so cruel.

“Idia, are you okay?”

“Aghhhhhhhhhh...”

You helped him up and, though he kept his head low while quietly cursing the gods, he seemed okay. Idia knew you wanted to stay with him out of kindness but when Ashton signaled your group to the platforms, you gave him a small smile and reluctantly headed over to the other end of the pool.

Without you near him anymore, Idia found the strength to breathe again. Quietly, he makes his way over to a secluded corner to rest while keeping his eyes trained on you in the distance. He watches as your complexion changes and thin colourful appendages grow out of your arms and intertwined legs. Along with the heated gaze of the sun, all the shimmering lights that bounced off your scales and illuminated the tiles into a frenzy of dancing colours dizzied him to the point of passing out. As he slips into the depths of his consciousness, a thought echoes in his mind that was far too overwhelming for him to even continue to think about.

My crush is a mermaid.

malleus draconia

You and “Tsuno tarou” were running away from a couple of students that he claims to be after him and somehow managed to to end up hiding behind a rock formation in the outskirts of the Octavinelle dorm. He had used some kind of magic of the two of you to prevent drowning and getting wet and though you were impressed by his incredible magic capabilities, you had no time to express your amazement as he quietly drags you away to hide.

“Why on earth are they after you anyways?” you asked Tsuno tarou, who shrugs from behind you. “They like to keep me under close surveillance.” he replies curtly before peering over your shoulder to watch your two chasers bicker and look around the area. You puckered out your lips at his complete lack of explanation, turning to face him with folded arms, “What do you mean by that? Just-,”

“There! I see someone!” one of them exclaims from behind you, causing you to turn back around and catch a pair of blue eyes staring right at you.

You internally groan as the two of them start swimming towards your hiding place. “Well, I suppose there’s no way out of this. It’s a shame that I’ll have to stop seeing you every night,” Tsuno tarou says from behind you, disappointed. Huffing at his gutted attitude, you face him and take hold of his forearm.

“You and I both know that it’d just be the gargoyles you’d miss because you think that the moonlight ‘encapsulates their pulchritude’,” you tell him before taking in a deep breath and closing off all of your thoughts. “You better start talking about all this later, Tsuno tarou.”

He gives you a confused look then opens his mouth as if to tell you something but you look away and concentrate on transforming. When bands of scales erupted to replace the soft surface of your skin and your legs coiled into each other, you pulled on his weight and began swimming away as fast as you could.

To Malleus, you looked mystical. He didn’t know that you were a mermaid but wasn’t all too shocked to see you transform and gracefully dart across the ocean floor with him in tow. “I meant what I said about missing you Y/N,” he says, catching your attention. You let yourself look back at him for a brief moment before averting your gaze from the intensity of his stare; he told you the truth. Your cheeks grow warm despite the coolness of the water.

“Oh…”

703 notes · View notes

missaudreyhorney · 4 years ago

Text

Afterschool Special

Again, I am shocked and delighted that people are enjoying the beginning of this series as much as I’m enjoying writing it. I cannot thank you all enough for your kind words and encouragement. In this third installment, Hopper and Reader get to spend some “alone time” together. That’s all I’m going to say about it 😊

Content warnings: Rated M for more age gap, Daddy kink, physical intimidation, over the clothes touching, and a new addition of under the clothes kissing. Female Reader, modern AU, 2.5k words.

You call Jim Hopper on Monday afternoon in between classes. His voice is even deeper and sexier over the phone than you remember it sounding the night before. He seems happy to hear from you and you try to hide how giddy you are about it. Sensing that the attraction between you two is very mutual, you don’t hesitate to set up a meeting. He tells you that he has Wednesday off from work, and for a second, you seriously consider ditching all your classes to spend the entire day with him. Instead, you agree to meet up at his house at four o’clock, which gives you enough time to go home and change after school.

Normally on a date, you would prefer to wear a dress but the winter chill in the February air sadly prevents that. Hopefully you won’t feel out of place wearing a heavy sweater and a pair of jeans to wherever it is he wants to take you.

The address he gave seems to be out in the middle of nowhere and multiple times you wonder if the GPS navigation is telling you to go in the wrong direction. Eventually, you find the place and it’s not so much a house as it is a cabin in the woods. It almost looks abandoned except for his car parked out front.

Any misgivings you have about the place are dispelled when you see Hopper standing on the porch and smoking as he waits for you. All your friends complain about guys who smoke, and that they hate the smell, but not you. You think it’s sexy and you even enjoy the smell.

A smile spreads across his handsome face when he sees you and it gets wider when you step out of the car. “Come on in, sweetheart,” he greets you with a white cloud billowing out from his mouth.

Anticipation rushes through your veins. When you last saw each other, and when you spoke on the phone, there seemed to be a promise of more, a promise to finish what he started when he came up to your room. You know that something will happen today, you’re just not sure how or when.

Once you reach the top of the steps, he says “It’s open. I’ll be in in a minute” as the unfiltered cigarette dangles between his lips.

Opening the door slowly, you let yourself in then put your purse down and look around. The cabin is…rustic. None of the furniture matches. Some of it looks to be as old as you are. There’s a decent red sofa but it’s covered in a patchwork quilt. There’s a plaid chair against the wall and it too has a blanket draped across the top, one that’s knitted or perhaps crocheted. The only things to indicate that you haven’t arrived here in a time machine are the flat screen tv on the wall and a new Apple computer on an old wooden desk.

Hopper steps into the room a moment later. “Why don’t you take your coat off and stay awhile?” He touches your back as he walks past you to go into the kitchen.

“Oh, um, okay.” You suppose he wants to talk a little bit or perhaps finish something up before you leave. Hanging your coat up on the rack, you notice a small pair of tennis shoes on the floor. “Do you live here alone?”

“No, my daughter lives here with me.”

His daughter? Gosh, Hopper really is a DILF. You follow him into the kitchen and your brain starts to connect some dots. “Is she the reason why you left so suddenly on Sunday night?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says as he takes an ice tray out of the freezer.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad it wasn’t your wife.”

“Oh no, I’ve been divorced for a long time now,” he assures you.

Your eyes roam over Hopper’s large frame while you watch him pop the cubes out of the tray and fill it back up again. He’s wearing jeans and a blue flannel shirt, with the top two buttons undone, and a navy henley underneath. His scent of cigarettes and soap makes it seem as if he must have smoked immediately after getting out of the shower.

For a brief moment, you entertain the idea of ripping his clothes off right here and now, forgoing any previous plans you might have for your date. That’s where you’re hoping this will all lead anyway so what’s wrong with cutting to the chase?

In an attempt to restrain yourself, you bring up the one subject that will take your mind out of the gutter. “How did you meet my parents?”

“They brought one of their cars to my shop. I’m a mechanic.”

The attempt proves feeble as your mouth instantly begins to water at the mental image of Jim Hopper bending over the engine of a car, sticking out his cute butt in his Wrangler jeans, his hands and his face getting all dirty and sweaty.

“Can I make you a drink?” he offers, getting a glass off the shelf. “You are old enough to drink, right?”

You playfully roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m old enough.”

“I don’t have to check your ID, do I?” He winks at you and it’s as charming as it is corny.

“You can if you want to,” you respond.

“No, I believe you.” He opens a bottle of Jack Daniels and lifts it above his glass.

“Wait, you’re making a drink now? When are we gonna go?”

He puts the bottle on the counter. “Go where?”

“Is this it?” you ask, slightly stunned.

“Is what it?” Deep ridges form on Hopper’s forehead as he raises his eyebrows in irritation.

“I thought we were going to go on a date,” you explain.

His features soften as he chuckles at you. “We’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.” He gleefully pours the whiskey into his glass.

“So we’re just going to stay here and…?”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a smug grin. “We are.”

Suddenly your idea of tearing his clothes off seems like it would be more welcomed than you had anticipated.

“What’ll it be?” he asks, getting himself a can of Coke out of the refrigerator.

“I’ll have a water.”

Hopper pulls out a bottle of water and hands it to you. “You know this was your idea, right? You didn’t mention anything on the phone about a date.”

“I know, I guess I...assumed we’d go out.” You take a much-needed sip.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” he offers in a considerably softer tone than you’ve heard from him thus far.

“No,” you smile at him. “I want to stay.”

He smiles back at you then takes a drink.

“It just would have been nice if you took me out somewhere,” you remark before raising the bottle to your lips again.

“Why beat around the bush? We both already know what we want.” He takes another drink then sets his glass down. “Unless of course, you want us to be seen together,” he adds, moving directly in front of you, with mere centimeters between your bodies.

Your heart starts racing as Hopper glares down at you with a storm churning in his deep blue eyes.

”Maybe you want people to look at us and know that I’m twice your age.” He leans in closer, backing you into the corner of the wooden counter. “Maybe you want to hear them say ‘what’s that dirty old man doing with that beautiful young girl?’” He enunciates every word in a biting tone as if he’s scolding you.

Your bodies are so close together that you can actually feel the heat radiating off of him.

“If that’s what you want, I can take you anywhere. We can leave right now,” he offers in a slightly more casual voice. “I just don’t see any point in wasting time when it’s so obvious what you came here for.”

“What’s that?” you accidentally say in a whisper.

Hopper takes a step back from you. “Go in the bedroom and I’ll show you.”

With a deep inhalation, you slip away from him and run out of the kitchen then immediately run back. “Which one is your bedroom?” you almost shout.

“The one on the left,” he answers, trying not to laugh at your over the top enthusiasm.

You pull the curtain in the doorway so hard that it feels like it might rip away from the rod. Yanking your sweater above your head, you kick off your shoes at the same time.

Lying back on the bed, you can feel how wet he’s already made you. Your body is practically vibrating with excitement as you hear the heavy steps of his boots as he approaches. A shiver runs through you when he enters the room.

“Where were we?” Hopper asks, kneeling onto the foot of the bed.

“You were on top of me,” you recall.

“Uh-huh,” he nods, positioning himself between your open legs.

“And I think you were going to unhook my bra?”

He runs his hands under your t-shirt and up the sides of your body. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

“I thought we could skip that part.”

He pulls your shirt up over your chest. “Good thinking.”

Without missing a beat, his lips are on your breasts, kissing both of them with his warm, wet, open mouth. Your left nipple hardens as Hopper swirls his tongue around it, making you push your hips into him. His lips close around the bud and begin to suck.

“Oh, Daddy,” you moan, using the title with no regret this time.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he pauses long to speak then immediately begins sucking on your other nipple.

Just like on Sunday, his mouth is rough. Not solely the texture of his scruffy beard against your soft skin, but the ferocity with which he sucks on you and teases you with his teeth. Also just like Sunday, he moves his hand in between your thighs and pushes his palm against the center seam of your jeans.

You hiss when he bites down hard into your flesh, clearly not holding back this time. It’s an exquisite pain that you could easily become addicted to. Your fingernails claw at his shirt when he rolls your nipple between his teeth.

Hopper is working you into a frenzy with the way his hand presses into your jeans, rubbing your pussy through the denim. All the different sensations he’s causing in your body are starting to become too much and you need a release.

“Daddy, please,” you beg breathlessly.

Your nipple pops out from between his lips with a vulgar sound. “Please what?”

You’re unable to answer him as your mouth is too busy moaning while his hand brings back that familiar ache.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he instructs between licks.

“Your f-” you interrupt yourself with another moan. “Your fin-”

“You want my fingers inside you, is that it?” Hopper asks as you grind your crotch into his palm, desperate for all the friction you can get.

“Yes, Daddy!” you finally manage to force out two coherent words.

He unbuttons your jeans and you hear a noise coming from the living room. You both ignore it while he ever so slowly starts to pull down your zipper. Until you hear another noise. Not a noise actually. A voice. Two voices.

Hopper’s hands fall from the zipper, landing on your sides, while his head sinks down in defeat. Your body tenses with worry that whoever it is might come into the room as there’s no door to keep them out.

The two young voices are arguing about something but your brain is far too preoccupied to be able to comprehend the subject of the argument. The only thing you can manage to infer in your current state is that it must be his daughter and one of her friends from school.

Hopper gets up from the bed, leaving your chest fully exposed, and you tug your shirt back down. He has you throbbing with need, and exactly like the last time, your hopes for satisfaction have been quickly dashed by an intrusive family member.

When he goes into the living room to mediate the situation, you sit up and see something on his nightstand that you were in too much of a rush to notice before. Magnum XL condoms, not one but three, the edges of the gold foil still attached to each other.

“For Pete's sake, what’s going on out here?” Hopper demands above the sound of their bickering.

“Mike was staring at Stacey Albright,” his daughter explains.

“No, I wasn’t!” the boy interjects.

“Who’s Stacey Albright?” Hopper asks.

“A girl at our school who stuffs her bra,” she answers.

“She does not stuff her bra,” the boy disputes.

“How do you know that if you weren’t staring?” she raises her voice.

“I was not staring!” the boy yells back.

“Both of you calm down, alright? Jesus.”

Hopper opens the curtain, walks in, and closes it behind him. “Listen, I’m sorry but I gotta-” he begins to apologize in a dejected tone.

“No, I understand,” you reply, cutting him off as you stand up from the bed before pulling on your sweater and shoes. “I should go.”

When you turn to walk out of the room, he grabs onto your upper arms. He doesn’t mean to startle you, it happens solely by accident because he’s so strong. “Look at me,” he suggests, trying to get you to make eye contact.

You gaze up into his gorgeous blue eyes and he starts to smile.

“I still want to see you again,” he says warmly.

“Me too,” you agree, reciprocating his smile.

The kids resume their argument and Hopper rolls his eyes. “Please call me,” he adds before letting go of you.

“I will,” you confirm.

You open the curtain and both of the kids’ mouths fall silent as they watch you emerge from the bedroom. They look to be about fourteen or fifteen-years-old. The girl has brown eyes, long brown hair, and the most perfect skin you’ve ever seen on a teenager. She forces an awkward smile to be polite. The boy is tall and pale, with sharp cheekbones and curly black hair like a rockstar from the ’70s. He glances back and forth between you and Hopper with a confused expression on his face.

“This is my daughter, Elle,” Hopper introduces.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi,” you say back, your voice sounding squeaky with nerves.

“And her boyfriend, Mike,” Hopper continues.

“Ex-boyfriend,” Elle corrects.

“What? That’s not fair!” Mike exclaims.

They start bickering once more and you shoot Hopper a sympathetic look as you grab your coat and purse then slip out the front door. It feels like the universe is conspiring against the two of you, trying to keep you from having sex with each other, like a cosmic cockblock. As you drive away from the cabin, you silently pray that the next time will provide the relief you’re yet again so desperate for.

Tagging: @t-u-m-s @girlwiththenegantattoo @ottosuricato @im-not-great-at-making-up-names @misshawkins1993 @emilyyblackkk @hopperlover @kingphillipblake @kate110199 @david-harbour-arg @manawhaat @helena-mrs-murder @zombiesnips-blog @chiefharbour @flamehairedwritings @s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s @strawberry-fields-f0rever @mrs-geuse

Let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged.

Image credit: HarbourSource on Instagram

#jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #Hopper x Reader #Hopper x You #WTW #female reader #I did it

374 notes · View notes