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sungvrhs · 4 months

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Rile Me Up ; Lee Heeseung

Genre; Explicit | Heeseung x Female!reader word count; 6.1k

note: It's my first time writing an explicit content, I don't really know how it turned out😭. This took a slight turn ISTG TT.

dedicated to my bestie @heelvsted HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!

It hasn't been long since you both were tied to the knots of marriage and Heeseung was typically an introverted and a reserved person; always letting pass the situations that could have led to any sort of argument. You couldn’t remember even if you guys had any sort of argument or if Heeseung had ever lost his temper. He usually remained calm and poise which just made you even more curious of his intimidating nature that you heard from his friends but never got to see. There was merely, according to Beomgyu, his very close mate, a chance to aggravate that side of him, which was quite upsetting to you as you were like an open book to your man as she could easily read through the slightest expressions worn upon your face, whilst you here were still not exposed to the different natures he possessed.

But one thing that Heeseung’s sister slipped to you was how he would easily get jealous over the people he loved. “What do you mean by him getting jealous over you guys?” You remember the conversation that you had over the tea as Lee Iseul spoke, “Like a typical man, Heeseung gets jealous when he gets undivided attention, or the lack of interest when he is out conversing with the former person. And since you’re his woman, I bet this trait of his would be much more polished than before.” She spoke while nudging onto your shoulder. It was amusing how you and Iseul had grown closer after your marriage and that now you both were like each other’s ride or die; whether it be lending ears to each other’s rant or taking relationship advice, it was always the both of you slipping in each other’s direct messages.

“Oh you’re totally going to the party on the weekend Y/n. Come on! Don’t be a party pooper.” Iseul whined, not liking how introverted you had grown due to the sudden change in your ‘MBTI,’ as you labeled it. She didn’t buy it as an excuse from your end as she dragged you back to your room. “Now this is what I call a ‘gathering to gossip girl’ outfit. And your gaze went to what she was holding; a sleek, all black dress. “Oh I won’t buy the simplicity of the dress cause you’re wearing it exactly the way I want.” You heard Iseul speak as she pointed a finger at you whilst you tried to fight back, letting a sigh escape your lips. “But Iseul, you know Heeseung hates such attire.” Iseul made her way towards your jewelry, as she found a matching choker to compliment the pair of dangling earrings and a 3 inch heel. “Oh come on, when did you exactly wear any outfit like that in front of my brother?” You opened your mouth to speak a few words but closed them back as you pressed your lips in a thin line. ‘Right, when did I actually ever wear an outfit like that in front of him.’ “You’re married to him, Y/n. Not kept as a captive that you can’t wear what you want.” It was extremely new coming from her end but you did agree to what she said. You wanted to try it for once and she gave you the slightest hunch of courage. “Besides, who knows what would awaken in Mr.Lee for the day after you dress like a three course meal.” You turned at her comment, feeling your cheeks burning just at the mere thought of it. “ISEUL!” You spoke, hiding your face in your hands as she laughed at your reaction. “You both are a freaking match made in heaven.” And she knew exactly what she meant.

“Iseul, I don’t know if I look decent enough-” You got cut off by Iseul, “You look absolutely gorgeous darling. What a riveting sight for my brother. How did he dare not to acknowledge such beauty?” Your cheeks flushed at her words. Well, it wasn’t that you weren’t used to compliments, but the mere mention of your husband just made it hard for you to accept as a lump formed in your throat. He never exactly spoke it out in words, or maybe you were just a little bad at picking up on hints. You were a little expressive and quite shy type at the same time while he reflected a strange cold demeanor; keeping the conversations to a minimum, not at all a party person, letting his soft smile elicit when he was surrounded by his friends, family, including you.

You took one glance at the mirror as you heard the honking of the car, catching both of yours attention as Iseul speaks. “I'll get it.” You nodded as you followed her a little later after you heard slight giggles of the Lee siblings. “Nah it’s always you who takes the most time to dress up!” You heard Heeseung speak as you made your way out of the room, your heels clicking as they caught the attention of the both of them, leaving Heeseung awestruck at the breathless beauty that stood in front of him, the thin layer of blush lightening up with the natural one as you broke apart the eye contact with him. “Come on love birds, you both can have a staring contest later.” You heard Iseul speak as Heeseung scratched his nape. “After you ladies.”

Reaching the destination felt like a gust of wind as you had almost started to drown in the starry night above your head but it all came to a halt when the car came to rest. Iseul made her way out first as she went to greet her friends as you made your way out of the car, taking a minute to adjust your hair as you felt Heeseung snaking his hand around your waist, making you hault your movements for a bit as you turned to face him, only to find him looking up at you already. His blueberry hair complimented the shades of moonlight as he had that soft smile on his face. “Are we good to go?” You took a quick glance down your dress as you nodded, interlocking your hands with his.

“Y/n! Over here!” You both made way towards the center of the whole but your attention was averted when you heard your name being called out. You turned around as your mouth parted due to the amusement. “Jay! Oh my god!” You made your way towards your cousin, more like your half brother as you left Heeseung behind, letting alone the man confused at what caught your eye. He followed your fading steps, only to be met by slight giggles eliciting from your ends as he raised his eyebrows in perplexity.

“Y/n! My god you changed within a few years. Thank god, otherwise you were so unbearable.” Jay joked, making a face of disgust as you slapped his arm, earning a chuckle from his end. “At least better than you, cousin.” He had his mouth agape dramatically as he spoke. “Oh, you didn't just cousin-zoned me did you?” He had his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he spoke, earning an eye roll from you. Why of course he was your cousin, not until his father and your mother got married after your father passed away, so now you both were practically step siblings. But the thing that kept the boundaries straight was that you both had platonic love for each other. Whilst you both were the single child of your families, you both helped to fill the void of having a sibling to each other. He never turned down any of your childish requests and so didn’t you. But it was about time that after he turned 19, he got a scholarship acceptance to the States and had moved there, applying for the better opportunities to continue his studies and later planned and accomplished on setting his own firm. It was later the following year that you had applied for an online remote job which ended up being from his very own firm. And that is how you both were able to connect back after ages.

Before you had the chance to answer him, you felt a hand softly pulling you away from his embrace as you looked up to find Heeseung, completely void of any sort of cheerful expression. That facade of bliss and joy that he had on his charming face a few minutes ago vanished into thin air. "Hi I assume you're, Mr.Park? The one Y/n talks about the most." You hear Heeseung speak, getting the slight hint of sarcasm dropping down his words as he makes eye contact with you, wearing that facade of an adoring smile on his face, proving that he was, indeed, amused to have met him. You mentally scoff at his actions but you're slightly pleased at finding something that could rile him up. You heard Jay softly chuckling as he was embarrassed at Heeseung's words, yet he nodded, extending a handshake to him as Heeseung returned it politely. It was sure that he didn't have beefs with him for the start but they could turn into one if the conversation made a U-turn.

"I'm delighted to know that I'm familiar to someone as respectable as you Mr.Lee. It's an honor to have her in our company. The walls of this firm are built with the chunks of effort she has put in for the past years." The sincerity of his words had your eyes sparkled with delight, accompanying the warmth that was filled in your heart for him. It was always these small gestures that made you feel like home whenever you were with Jay. And the way he was addressing Heeseung so formally almost had you holding back your laughter.

"Thank you Jay, or should I say, Mr.Park?" You spoke with a slight grin as Jay laughed at your words, slightly embarrassed on how casual he was being with you in front of your husband. “Anything for you cousin sister.” He turned to face Heeseung who had a slight smile on his face as he addressed a handshake to him, to which he gladly returned. “It was an honor meeting you Mr.Lee. I’m glad that Y/n is in good hands.” Jay let a small smile linger on his lips as the older returned it with a warm one. Guess the interaction wasn’t that bad afterall. The younger’s phone rang as he fished his phone out of his pocket, excusing himself from the conversation, leaving the two of you facing each other. The loud music that rang in your ears slowly faded upon the sight of your man right in front of you. It was confirmed that you were a swoon for him, but it just wasn’t the time to let it be evident to him.

You heard the latter letting out a soft chuckle as he tugged one of his hands in his pocket whilst the other made way around your waist pulling you closer as his actions left you flustered. You surely didn’t know what got this new side of him out all of a sudden but all your thoughts were shattered as you heard his breath lingering on your ears, with a soft whisper melting through your ears. "That smile was supposed to be exclusively for me Mrs.Lee. I presume you forgot your dear promise." He pulled back slightly as he tucked a loose hair strand behind your ear, taking your breath away just by a single gesture as you held onto your racing heartbeats, facing flushing to a deeper shade of red. “I met him after a long time.” You spoke softly, letting your hand reach his shoulder in a delicate grip as you tugged your lips in a thin line. Surely it was evident how you had kept yourself from practically getting into a playful fight with Jay because you were in a formal gathering, but something about Heeseung’s sudden shift in moods didn’t go unnoticed by you. Just as Heeseung was about to say something, you heard Iseul speak, “Oh get a room you lovebirds. Singles would not like you to experience a whole showcase.” You turned to face her, eyes widened at her words as she shrugged her shoulders. With that Heeseung let loose his embrace as you awkwardly fixed your hair, feeling slightly embarrassed at the attention that Iseul had gathered on the both of you.

“Girl what was that?” Iseul dragged you in a far corner as Heeseung interacted with his ‘elite 01’s’ as they cheered for the newly wedded couple. “What?” You questioned her, seeming confused at how everything was turning a little different than before, but was it worth to be questioned or to be just experienced? “Did you not see how my brother was all riled up when you met Jay?” You pondered over his words, remembering how he was sly enough to pull you close to him as to which you spoke, “Yeah he was actually indifferent as if he didn’t know who Jay was? Like Jay is one of the most important family members to me and I might have spoken about him a dozen of times-""Well, maybe this is why he felt all jealous, girl, don’t you get it?” you got cut off by Iseul as she raised her eyebrows. You were about to speak but paused midway, taking note of what she said. And then it clicked you. “No way, he was jealous? Of Jay?” You kept a hand on your mouth, slightly shocked at the new discovery as you whispered to her, to which she acknowledged. “No way.” You kept your face in your hands, not letting this opportunity slip by. “Now that you scratched it out…” Iseul had a mischievous smile on her face, as to which you nodded sideways. “You’re not doing anything stupid are you?” You said, as to which she disagreed. “No no, absolutely not my dear sister-in-law.” And now that she said that, you knew something was up in her mind.

The ride back home was nothing but silence; Iseul decided to stay a bit longer with her friends as to which neither of you minded, and Jay, well he wasn’t quite seen around after that last encounter before you guys headed. You could see how Heeseung had his gaze traveling to Jay as hugged you by the side, ruffling your hair as to which you were taken by surprise, a soft chuckle leaving your lips. “Let’s meet again soon, both of you.” Jay spoke as he embraced the elder in a warm hug, as to which he reciprocated the energy. “We will surely. It was nice meeting you.” Heeseung spoke, as you nodded, bidding him farewell as you both took the ride back home. Neither of you had an exchange of words as Heeseung drove whilst you stared outside at the starry night. Nothing seemed to have changed; not a single star as it felt like it was exactly the same moment that you were reliving for the moment. You almost felt like dozing off to sleep as the light brushed of the wind was reliving, until you felt a message pop up on your phone, gaining your attention as you went to receive it, only to find Iseul dropping one of the longest texts that you had ever seen, letting you eyes widen as it didn’t fail to catch Heeseung’s attention.

“What was with Jay, or should I say, Mr.Park.” Heeseung spoke, taking off his coat as you had your eyes fixed on the phone. Not hearing a reply from your end he turned to face you, only to find you engrossed into texting as he poked his inner cheek. You were testing his patience for the day and he was at the edge of losing it. He waited for a few more seconds until you responded. “Well, what about him?” You spoke, looking up to him only to be slightly taken aback by the way he had his one hand in his pocket and the other holding his coat. ‘Oh he looks so fine.’ You didn’t want to make it evident that you were drooling over him so you turned your attention back to your phone. “The mere amount of closeness between the two of you was uncomfortable to me.” Well one thing you appreciated about him was that he was outspoken; he would always let the former person know if any of his or her acts was bothering him in any way.

“Well, it has always been this way Hee, don’t make a big deal about it.” Oh now that you said it, you could feel his gaze practically pinning down on you as you continued to use your phone, letting it slip aside that what you just spoke was nowhere close to how you usually speak to him.

‘Gosh Iseul I swear I'm going to kill you with my very own hands.’ You thought to yourself, mentally cursing her for making you do this. “‘Will you keep that phone down for a mere second Y/n?” He spoke, throwing his coat on the couch as he turned to face you, pissed off at how you had your undivided attention on him. “Mhm I am listening to you Hee-” You got cut off by him as he took pacing steps towards you, grasping your attention as he swiftly took your phone away, leaving you startled as you stood up in front of him. “Hee, give it back.” You reached out for the phone as he moved back, sneaking through what you were doing as you noticed a small smirk appearing on his face, as to which you took a step back, heels clicking the floor. He lifted his gaze from the phone as he locked contact with you, turning to face you completely. “So Mrs.lee certainly wanted me to expose a hidden side of mine?” He let out a husky chuckle, not failing to awaken butterflies in your stomach as you spoke, “No, it was just a literary device that Iseul used.” Well that was one pathetic excuse but you prayed it was enough to convince him that this was not what you intended.

“He let out another chuckle at your words as his free hand went to undo his tie, tensing up the atmosphere all of a sudden as a lump formed in your throat. He tossed the phone down on the couch as your gaze went to it, getting distracted as you failed to notice how he was now standing only a few inches close to you as you moved back a bit, causing him to take one step forth; one step backwards, two steps forward. That is how it was following, only the clicking of the heels of yours and his shoes echoing in the cozy lounge as your back eventually hit the wall, letting your eyes slightly widen as you wished to be fast enough to move to the side, failing miserably as he kept his hands on either side of you, trapping you in between as your gaze went up to look through his mischievous one. ‘This was not what I was expecting.’ Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt him leaning towards your ear, slipping another sentence for the day that almost made you weak on your knees.

“I'm giving you 20 seconds to run, Y/n. Only 20. If I catch you, I’ll fuck you.”

__________________________________________________________

“I'm giving you 20 seconds to run, Y/n. Only 20. If I catch you, I’ll fuck you.” A husky chuckle left his lips as his hand slipped back to his pockets as he pulled back, eyeing you from top to bottom as your breath hitched at his words. “W-What?” You managed to gain back your long lost voice as he took a step back, amused at your flustered reaction. “I said what I said. 20 seconds Y/n. I am starting the countdown. 1…2…” “W-Wait wait! Hee! What the heck do I do?” You panicked as he started his manual countdown as he shrugged his shoulders. “5…6…7…” You turned around to take off your heels but it seemed like luck wasn’t helping. “8…9…10…11” ‘Oh fuck.’ You left what you were doing as you made way to your bedroom, sprinting through the stairs as you were risking your life with the 3 inch heel and the narrow staircase. “12…13…Oh, be careful dear wife, I don’t want you to fall.” You turned to look at him as he took slight steps towards the path you followed, causing you to enter your room as you turned the doorknob lock, taking a deep breath. “What did I get myself into?” You took a few steps towards your bed, still hearing him count for god knows how long before he finally stopped. You took off your heels, thankfully they weren’t a problem this time as your attention turned to the silence that engulfed the atmosphere.

“Hee?” You heard no voice from the door as you turned open the doorknob, stepping out to not find him downstairs. “Heeseung, this is nowhere close to being funny.” You spoke in an annoyed tone as you closed the door behind you, making your way towards the staircase. “Hee-” You got cut off as you felt a hand tugging on your wrist as you turned around and slammed back on the door, a gasp leaving your lips as you were met by his siren gaze. “What the heck Heeseung?” A low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. “I’m obliged to my words but it seems like you weren’t?” his behavior made it seem like he might have been high on drugs, because this was definitely new coming from his end. “Heeseung what is up with you-” “You wanted me to be like an open book to you right? You wanted to discover all of my personalities.” Your breath hitched at the close proximity while his cinnamon breath fanned on your lips, his orbs capturing yours in a ravishing contact. “H-Hee.” His name left as a whisper as you kept your hands on his chest, causing a short distance to develop between the two of you as you almost held back to your breath. “You invoked the element of jealousy in me, love. And now I won’t be holding it back.”

Before you had a chance to fight back, you felt him pulling you in a messy lip-lock, his hand sliding down to pull you closer by the waist as the other took hold of your jaw, fingers softly rubbing down the back of your neck as he took you by surprise. The heart fluttering radiance made way to spread through your veins like a blazing wildfire as you reciprocated the feeling, throwing your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer. Time and tide waits for none, and that is exactly what Heeseung was holding onto as he took his own time to savour the sweetness plattered on your lips, seeming like he would never get enough of it as he took the opportunity to tuck on your bottom lip, letting a gasp elicit from you end as he slipped his tongue, enjoying every inch of the hot chambers as an excited moan escapes his lips. Whilst you were running breathless, you softly tapped his shoulders, causing him to slow down his movements as he broke apart the lip-lock, a string of saliva keeping both of you connected after the slight intimacy. Panting for air as he opened his eyes, finding your amused ones as he slightly frowned. “What?” He spoke, pushing his hand away from your neck as he took his support by the wall next to the door, feeling his own cheeks heating up at the flashbacks of the past few moments you both shared. “I didn’t know you would act all riled up because of mere jealousy.” You spoke softly, finding it witty how the man who was all jealous was now flushing in embarrassment. He had a slight grin on his face as he spoke, “Well you unravelled it after all, there was no point in hiding it.” He looked away scratching his nape on how he got carried away.

“I’ll be more careful in bringing it out more often.” You spoke, placing your arm on his shoulders as you fondly gazed at him, eyes never leaving his as his hands held your arms in an agile grip. “I’d be more than glad to serve you each time.” A low chuckle leaves his lips as he speaks. “But for now…” with a sparkle in his eyes and a hint of mischievousness ligering in his words, you tilted your head in confusion as he lifted you in his arms, taking you by surprise as a loud chuckle escapes your lips, pushing through the unlocked door as he softly placed you on the the spongy mattress. “Do I have your consent for the night, Lee Y/n?” He spoke, seeking your consent whilst it fluttered your heart, welling up tears in our orbs as you nodded. Hovering over you as he planted a fragile kiss on your forehead, sealing the promise of compassion and devotion under the shimmering moonlight. “You had no option to deny it either way, love.” He whispered whilst sitting up, undoing his tie as he unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, letting it loose as he crawled up to settle between your thighs as he looked at you, smirking at your flustered state. “Oh don’t look at me like that, help me take this off.” He spoke, pulling you up with his grip as you slightly gasped, with his hands guiding you to the buttons of his shirt. “You are so incorrigible.” Taking your own time to tease him as your fingers traced down his chest, his muscles tensing up as you undid the buttons, letting it fall apart as he got rid of it, revealing the chiseled body underneath, the sculpted abs and the muscles that lined his biceps and shoulders, with his pecs were smooth and well-defined, the veins in his arms pulsated as he moved them around.

His dark gaze lingering over yours as he ducked down, pressing his lips against yours as you returned the feverish sensation back with the same will, draping your hands around his neck to pull him closer, leaving no space for air to creep up in between. His hand fumbled through the hem of your dress, sliding through it as the dress crept up, letting the cold air make contact with your bare skin underneath as it sent shivers down your spine. "You're mine, all mine." He whispered against your lips, the words sending another spark through your veins as youI nodded, "I know." He pulled apart, his hands still caressing your waist as he sat up. "Take it off."

His demanding tone might have caught you off guard as he was never this demanding before. Going along with the word play as you retorted back playfully. "What?" It was bold of you to assume that you could do a foreplay, whilst being under him. as a low chuckle escaped his lips whilst he spoke, his hands resting on my thighs. "Take that fancy little dress off you or should I get the job done?" I smirked at his words. "Why don't you do it yourself, Mr.Lee." You spoke, fumbling with his belt as he scoffed, pulling up the dress as he threw it aside, leaving you in your inners. "Oh, you're way too bold." He teased as he ran his hands over your thighs. Whilst his gaze followed the trace of his fingers on your skin, he spoke, “Just remember my love, the night is still young.” He turns his gaze back to you, flashing you that one troublesome gaze which you despised the most. He won’t be letting you go this easily.

His rousing tone rushed like a never-ending stream as you could feel yourself getting drenched just by his mere touches. But you chose not to give in as you gulped, trying to shove off the shakiness in your tone. It was evident how you pulled apart from the intense eye contact, as his gaze softened, coming forth to place a soft kiss on your nose as he tucked a loose hair strand behind your ear. “I promise to be gentle, my love. If you don’t want this we can stop-” “Hey, it’s okay I know you won’t hurt me.” You cut him off in between as you took a deep sigh. He seeked for any traces of lies hiding behind your hazel orbs as he spoke. “Are you sure Y/n? I have never rushed things with you so I don’t want our first to be an uncomfortable experience.” The switch from the heated atmosphere to a more admiring, concerning and light hearted made your heart at a little ease. You thought for a while as you looked up to his bambi orbs. “I…I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you.” Just as these words left your mouth you heard slight laughter from his end. “W-whats so funny?” You spoke, a questionable frown appearing on your face as he turned his head sideways, a small grin on his face. “Now where did the ‘all bold Y/n’ go huh? Weren’t you the one determined to encounter these moments more often? To be in this position 24/7” He spoke, rubbing his nose against yours as he looked down at you, eyeing you from top to bottom as the actions made the blood rush up against your cheeks. “HEESEUNG!” You spoke, reaching out for the bed sheet, as he held your hands gently, pinning them sideways as he spoke, “Don’t shy away from me, love.” his hands tracing behind your back as his fingers rested on the strap of your bandeau, seeking your permission with his eyes whilst you nodded, letting him take it off, revealing your chest. “You’re insanely beautiful.” He placed a soft kiss on one of your bosoms, letting your heart flutter at his words as a soft moan escaped your lips as he continued, “The most heavenly sight to my eyes.” placing another kiss on your collarbone. “My glamorous beauty.” trailing kisses up to our jaws as you intertwined your fingers with his. “My woman.” he spoke, placing a tender kiss on your lips, full of love and compassion as he pulled apart, admiring the view underneath him. The past few moments that resided with jealousy and lust were now engulfed with words of appreciation and compassion.

He paused for a moment, letting you take a breather before he left another trail of tender kiss down through your body as his hands rested on your inner thighs, parting them slightly as your heartbeats paced up. Letting his fingers hover around your cervix as he let an airy chuckle escape his lips. “Relax love, close your eyes.” You obliged to his words, gripping onto the bed sheets as you felt his fingers encircling, letting your lips fall apart whilst another moan escaped your lips. “Feels good?” He questions, lifting up to see your parted lips as he chuckles, finding it adorable how they were simply falling apart just by his fingers. You simply nodded, too engrossed in the feeling to form words to express it out to him. Before you had the chance to savour the feeling, you felt his pushing one of his fingers inside you, letting a yelp escape your lips as he pushes it in and out, slowly yet pacing with every passing second as you moan a mess for him “Hee-eseung ahh, i-it f-feels too g-good o-oh fuck” You exclaim, eyes rolling back at the feeling as you feel your organism progressing forth. “Yeah? It feels cherishing?” You could pick up the hints of mischievousness in his tone yet again but you were high enough on your organism to let out any words to agree with him. “Let go of it, my love.” Those words were enough for you to untie the knot in your stomach, welcoming your arousal on the tip of his fingers as he pulls out, relishing the taste as he licks his fingers clean, hips lips falling apart as he speaks, “Sweet and devouring, just like you.” Your face flushes at his words, letting your grip loosen on the sheets as you hear the unbuckling of his belt, causing you to lift up your head as your eyes traced down to his fingers fumbling with his lowers, getting rid of each and every one of the clothing.

“Lift your hips up for me, love.” he whispered close to your ears, sending butterflies through your body as you granted him the favor as his hands gripped on your legs, pulling them over his shoulders to get a better access. “Let me know when it hurts okay?” He spoke, his tender gaze meeting yours as you nodded. With a single swift motion, he dunked his shaft deep inside you, causing a moan to escape your lips as you held onto his shoulders, thrusting slowly as he held onto your hips, placing soft kisses near your orbs. “My beautiful woman, taking me in so perfectly.” A low moan escapes his lips as he tugs on his bottom lip, throwing his head back on how graceful you look underneath him; with the moonlights cascading down to on you, reflecting against your brimming hazel orbs as the beads of sweat drip down from your forehead, your messy locks spread wild whilst your milky skin contrasted the monochrome shades of plum bedsheet. With every thrust he gives, he kisses away your tears, his fingers rubbing circles against your hips, whispering nothing but appreciation in your ears as loud moans continue to escape your lips, with him taking in each and every one of them in a gentle kiss. “Hee, I-I’m c-close.” You whimper, with your words almost leaving as a whisper as you hear him speak. “I am too, just let go when you can.” And with those words he continues to let slow thrusts, letting your arousal hit your peak once again as you let go, your expressions relieving as he his muscles contract. “F-Fuck Y/n, I’m coming too.” He throws his head back, pulling out as he lets go of his organism, his body faltering as he lets his head lose, both of you panting after the intercourse.

“You…you did so well my love.” He spoke, taking deep breaths as he looked up to meet your eyes, a smile lingering on your lips as you chuckle. “You were good enough to make me feel like on cloud nine.” You spoke, causing him to chuckle as he drops next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “No, you were the one to take in so well my angel.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. You both stayed in each other’s embrace for a few good minutes, residing in each other’s comfort as his hands caressed your shoulders. His eyes never left yours as you broke in a laughter. “What are you staring at?” you spoke, captivating each and every one of his features as your fingers traced his jawline. “I’m staring at someone who reflects my whole universe.” He spoke cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes playfully at him. “You’re so cheesy, Hee. You hype me up for no reason.” You spoke, causing him to let out a dramatic gasp as he spoke. “For no reason?” His eyes widened at your words as he spoke. “You complete my life. If I were to pick that one best thing that happened in my life, it would be getting married to you.” He spoke as he peppered kisses on your face, starting with your cheeks as he spoke, “You,” then your forehead, “complete,” followed by your nose, “my,” and then your lips, “whole life.” letting small giggles escape your lips as you hugged his torso. “You’re mine too.” you spoke, letting the silence engulf the two of you again as he once again broke it. “Shower?” You turned to face him as you spoke, “Only if you don’t go for something else.” He laughed at your words. “No no I promise. It’s just the aftercare.” His eyes sparkled under the moonlight as his fingers grazed through your locks.

note#2: T T I tried my best, I never had an experience of writing these type of contents. If there are any grammatical errors, please ignore because English is not my first language. Feel free to leave comments and re-blog <3

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f1goat · 25 days

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more than friends ; lando norris + part ten

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine

“You’re insane,” Oscar tells his teammate when he sees you walking towards Lando and him. “Actually insane,” he mutters when he gets an even closer look on you. When you feel Oscar his eyes on you, you know for sure what he’s looking at. He looks at the same thing that everyone else is looking at when they see you. Lando his love bites. Why did he even leave them so out in the open? You tried to cover them up with make up, but it didn’t work. If you brought a turtle neck with you, you would have worn it for sure right now. But since you’re in another hot country, you only have summer clothes with low necklines. Which means that everyone can see the marks on your skin that Lando made two days earlier. You curse him for leaving them on this place, but you continue to walk closer to him.

“Insane?” Lando asks Oscar. He notices the way his teammate looks at you.

“Is this to show Pierre that she’s taken or something stupid like that?” Oscar continues to scold Lando. He didn’t even think about it like that, but now that he does… The hickeys might help with Pierre backing off a bit. “You can’t claim something you don’t own,” Oscar sighs, “just remember that before you do more stupid shit.”

Before Lando can say anything to Oscar, you’re already standing in front of them. He notices the way you try to cover the hickeys with you hair, but he stills sees the red love bites. Now that he thinks about it, let everyone see them - maybe then everyone will figure out that you belong to him.

“Hey baby,” Lando greets you.

“Don’t baby me, I’m mad at you,” you sigh, “I should have brought a turtleneck with me. Everyone is looking at me.”

“Sorry,” Lando jokes. He watches around you and notices the way people are watching at you. You’re right. Everyone is paying attention to you. He notices some press workers as well. Normally the track isn’t busy on Wednesdays, but today seems different. He hears cameras clicking. Are people taking pictures of you? He starts to stress a bit. Lando pulls you closer to himself and drapes his arm around your shoulder, using it to hide your hickeys a bit more.

“I might have a crewneck sweater laying here somewhere,” Lando tells you.

You nod at Lando. Together you walk inside the McLaren motorhome. You notice the way even some mechanics are watching you. You’re going to kill Lando. This is all his fault. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them, he takes your hand and pulls you with him the his drivers room. There you finally get his sweater. You’re quick to put it on. Happily you watch in the mirror, almost no love bite is still visible now. The sweater is way too hot, but you rather become sweaty then have people look at you for the whole day. You can only hope they’ll fade away quickly. In silence the two of you walk back to the track.

Together with Lando you’re strolling on the track. It’s relaxing to walk around with him like this. Lando is holding your hand. You like the peaceful silence between you two right now. It feels comfortable and relaxing. You realize that you don’t feel like this around other people. Lando has always been your safe place. It reminds you about how special things are between Lando and you, but it reminds you most about how you can’t fuck things up between you two.

Your feelings are already coming in the way. They have always done, but since you have been experiencing the sexual stuff with him it has become worse. Maybe it’s because you have a tiny bit of hope that Lando also feels something for you. It’s the first time you have ever had that hope. Partly because of his jealousy, that must mean something right? But still, you wonder if it’s worth it if it can also ruin your friendship? What if you’re wrong and Lando doesn’t feel the same?

When Lando grabs your hand, he pulls you out of your thoughts. “Don’t look to fast,” he says, “but I think Pierre is coming this way.” Fuck. You’re not in the mood for that. Slowly you watch around you, it doesn’t take you long to see that Lando is right. Pierre is walking towards the two of you. In only a couple seconds he’s standing in front of you.

“You could have told me,” Pierre says to Lando without any context.

“Told you what?” Lando asks confused.

“Come on,” Pierre sighs, “All the gossip accounts are full with it. The two of you are dating.”

“Sorry?” You ask confused, “Are gossip accounts stating that we’re dating?”

“Yes!”

You let out a sigh. Gossip accounts have always been a thing. They always suspect that there’s something going on between Lando and you, but they never had any proof. You drop Lando his hand. This is a mess. You don’t even want to see your socials right now, they’re probably full with hate. Fuck.

“Since when do you believe gossip accounts?” Lando asks Pierre.

“Since she has been spotted with hickeys all over her and she’s now wearing one of your crewneck sweaters,” Pierre answers annoyed, “I don’t get it why you didn’t tell me. I made a fool of myself by asking her on a date. You could have said something.”

“I told you that you weren’t her type.”

Lando continues to argue with Pierre. You on the other hand can only wonder when the gossip accounts are going to share the pictures of your love bites. Fuck, what are ‘fans’ going to do then? You grab your phone and look at the way your notifications are already blowing up. Reactions keep coming, you read a couple of them. Most of them are calling you a slut. Whenever you see a nice one, there are more negative ones beneath them. You search on a gossip page, wondering what they already posted. Then you see one of the pictures.

It’s you in your former outfit. The hickeys on your neck and collar are hard to miss. Suddenly you start to feel watched. It feels like everyone around you is looking at you.

“You should have told me that you two are dating,” Pierre scoffs angrily.

“We’re not,” you sigh. It’s the first time that you’re saying something again. “And even if we were, it’s none of your business. Can you take me back to the motorhome Lando?”

When you’re finally back in Lando his drivers room, you grab your phone again. Your notifications are blowing up. It seems like everyone is talking about Lando and you dating. You have never gotten this many comments under a Instagram post, you’re above a thousand now on your most recent post. You try to read as many as you can, but a lot of them are the same. People are calling you a slut for “parading” around the track with the hickeys. Others are saying that Lando deserves better, that you’re only with him for the fame. As if you weren’t with him before he even started in Formula One. Sometimes you read a positive comment. Some people seem to like it that Lando and you are “finally” together, not that it’s true. Some people are even reacting about the true love between you two. All of it makes you sad. You don’t even notice the tears that are falling down on your cheeks, until Lando wipes a couple of them away.

Lando doesn’t know how to act. He takes you into his arms and tries to comfort you as much as he can manage. He doesn’t know what is wrong, but he can guess. When Pierre said something about the gossip accounts, he didn’t even think about the consequences for you from those accounts, but now he remembers. Every time they post about you, your notifications are blowing up. People know how to find your Instagram and how to leave horrible comments. He doesn’t even want to read it.

“Nothing of what they’re saying is true babygirl,” Lando shushes. You let out a soft sob. “Everyone thinks I’m a slut,” you tell him, “or a gold digger or just an awful person.”

“You’re not.” He presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most wonderful person I know,” he continues, “So stop letting this get to you babygirl, they’re not worth it.”

“Lan?” You ask softly. He nods and waits for you to continue. “This is all your fault,” you softly joke, “fucking hickeys.” Lando lets out a soft laugh.

+++

“Fuck, babygirl,” Lando grunts when you lower your body onto his. He feels himself enter you. “You feel so fucking good.”

You’re sitting on top of Lando. He’s not even more then ten minutes back from the second free practice. It didn’t went like he wanted to. When he got out of the car, he let everyone know about that. The moment he started to scold multiple mechanics you were quick to intervene. Normally you don’t, but Lando kept going on and on. It was getting too much. He really lost his temper this time. You wonder why, normally he’s rather patient.

Slowly you move your body on top of Lando. This position makes you feel more fulled up then the first time. With slow movements you fuck him. When you let out a soft moan, Lando shows you a small smile. His hands are all over your body. He kneads your boobs while pressing his lips against your collarbone. Softly placing kisses all over it.

You didn’t know what got into you when you grabbed Lando his hand while he acted rude to his team. He gave you a surprised look and even shut his mouth for a bit. When you stood on your toes to reach his ear, he turned all of his attention to you. “If you stop whining,” you whisper, “I’ll have sex with you in your drivers room.” Lando shut in within seconds. He even apologized to his crew before taking your hand and almost running towards his drivers room with you. Undressing you as soon as he turned the door behind him. When your dress was all up and his pants were down and he was ready to enter you, you surprised him one more time. “I want to be on top.”

Lando can’t stop himself from letting out multiple moans when you increase your pace. Faster then before you move yourself on top of him. He grabs your neck and moves your face closer towards himself so he can kiss you properly. His hands are still busy kneading your boobs. He gives your nipples a bit more attention by softly pulling on them.

“Fuck Lan,” you whine when he pulls back from the kiss. He chuckles and let his hands slide down on your body. His lips are attached to your neck. “No more visible marks,” you instruct half jokingly, half serous. Lando grunts but moves his mouth a bit lower, making sure his new marks can be covered with summer clothes.

You’re surprised when you feel Lando put his finger on your clitoris. He shows you a small smile when he notices your surprised look. Slowly he traces circles on the sensitive bud, making you feel all kind of things. You let out a loud moan. Lando adds a bit more pressure. You try to increase your pace as well, but you start to feel worn out. Lando helps you, effortless he moves himself inside of you. Picking up a fast pace. It causes you to let out more moans.

“Fucking insane how good you feel,” Lando groans. He feels himself coming close to his orgasm, but he wants to feel you cum on his dick first. He increases his pace on both fucking you as on playing with your sensitive bud. Stimulating you as much as he can.

“Are you going to cum for me?” Lando asks you, “Let me feel how good it feels to have your pussy clenching around my cock.” You don’t react verbally. Lando keeps talking dirty to you. “So fucking tight.” “Such a good girl.”

“I’m close Lan,” you suddenly tell him, “Can I cum?”

Lando increases his pace as much as he can. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you. When he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, he lets go as well. When his cum enters your body, Lando tells you one more thing. “My good girl.” It makes you all flustered.

+++

Days are going by quickly. Before you know it, it’s already Sunday - meaning it’s race day again. This is the last race of the triple header, meaning that after this Lando and you will go back home. You don’t know how to feel about that. Last weeks you have spent al your time with Lando, sleeping in his hotel rooms and being together almost every moment of the day. It has been extremely nice. You like living with Lando like this. That’s maybe why you don’t like going back home tomorrow. Then you’ll be alone in your own apartment again, without Lando laying next to you in the bed every night.

“Good luck kiss?” Lando asks you. He holds his helmet. He’s almost ready to get into his car and to start with the race. You show him a small nod and press the standard ‘good luck kiss’ against his cheek. Like you always do when you’re with him at races. “Don’t know if that will bring me enough luck,” Lando jokes.

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean? Before you can ask about it, Lando presses his lips on your for a small moment of time. It can’t have lasted longer then a second, but it was long enough to wake up the butterflies in your stomach. You look around you. Did anyone see it? It can’t be. You don’t more negative comments on your socials. Now that you think about it, what did just happen? Since when is Lando kissing you in public places?

Lando doesn’t say anything else, he walks off to his car. He can only think about what he just did. He realizes that if anyone saw, it will mean that you’ll get more hate. Maybe he should say something about it on his socials? He needs some help from his PR team. He wonders what’s going on with him. He just kissed you in a public place, practically on his work, where everyone could see. Since when are you doing that? If someone saw and shares it, the madhouse will be complete. He wonders what would happen if he would date you and share it online. People have been shipping the two of you for a long time, so some of them might be happy. But there are always so many haters. When he takes place in his car, he looks at the Alpine motorhome. He remembers Pierre his statements from earlier this week. Finally someone who understands that you’re not for him to take.

He really should solve this problem and make you his.

Then he remembers something else. Didn’t you have a date planned with some guy for after the triple header? He tries to forgot about it and focus on the upcoming race, but that seems to be hard form him right now. He can’t stop thinking about the guy who’s taking you on a date. Who is it? Will you fall in love with him? When he lines up to the start, he’s still thinking about the guy you’re going on a date with.

You watch Lando race. All of your focus is on him, nothing new now that you think about it. Only this time it doesn’t feel like it normally does. It’s because of some weird feeling that you can’t seem to shake off. It almost feels like something is going to happen. Something bad. It feels off. You don’t know why you’re thinking like this right now, but you can’t seem to stop. You can’t take your eyes off the screen which shows Lando his car all the time. Multiple mechanics are watching the fight for second place, but you can only focus on Lando. Even the way he races feels off. It’s hard to say without any knowledge about it, but he almost seems unfocused.

Then you see the reason behind your feeling. Lando misses his braking point. Within seconds he’s spinning into the wall. You let out a loud scream when it happens. Quickly you stand up and walk closer to the screen. All the attention of everyone in the motorhome is on the screen as well now. Everyone is waiting for Lando to say something. To let them know he’s okay.

You need to hear Lando say something. You need to know if he’s okay. The crash didn’t look massive, but still bad. It doesn’t take long for a safety car to show up on the grid, leading the drivers. Many drivers are coming into the pit to change their tires. You don’t notice any of it, you just keep waiting for Lando to say something. The stress doesn’t leave your body.

“I’m ok.”

You feel how you let out a lot of air at once with a relieved sigh. Thank god, Lando is okay. You watch how he climbs out of his car. It seems like he has no trouble with walking away from the track to get back to the motorhome. Within a couple minutes you see Lando showing up at the motorhome. The medical team is following him inside, you hear some talks about medical checks but you don’t follow it. All of your attention is on Lando.

While walking to Lando you almost trip over your own feet. “Fuck Lan,” you stammer while rushing yourself into his arms. Lando doesn’t react verbally, he just wraps his arms around your body and holds you closely to himself. You don’t even notice that you’re making his race suit wet with your tears. “Are you hurt?” You ask him.

“We would have known if he joined us for his medical checks,” someone tells you with an annoyed tone in her voice. You let go of Lando and look around you, only to see that the whole medical team is gathered around you.

“You didn’t have your check up yet?” You ask Lando confused. “No,” he replies. “Fucking hell Lan,” you mutter, “Go with them you idiot.” Lando shows you a boyish grin, “Sorry babygirl, I wanted to see you first.”

Lando and you are rejoined only a small hour later. He is still laying in a hospital bed. The medical team decided that he needed some rest before getting back out of there. The crash wasn’t hard and didn’t left much damage across for a few bruises and painful spots on his body. They gave him some pain medication, which causes him to feel a bit loopy. You’re sitting next to him, waiting until he wakes up. You have seen him on medication like this before, the Grand Prix in Las Vegas showed you how loopy and careless Lando can act with medication like this. You wonder how he will act this time.

When Lando wakes up, he’s happy to see sitting right next to him. He is quick to remember the way he crashed during the race. He feels ashamed when he realizes why he lost his concentration and how it ended his race, such a rookie mistake. And probably easy to fix if he finally gets the nerve to tell you about his feelings. He feels himself getting mad at himself. Before he can think about it any longer you’re already taking to him.

“How are you feeling Lan?” You ask him.

“Not great,” Lando sighs honestly.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you confess, “what happened?”

He can’t exactly tell you that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the date you’re going on as soon you’re back in Monaco. That would be stupid. Although it is the real reason. Lando wants to make up some sort of excuse, but he is already talking again. Those fucking pain meds.

“Couldn’t focus,” he confesses, “I kept thinking about something.” He can barely stop himself on time from telling you that he was thinking about you and your date.

“About what?” You ask confused.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lando quickly says before he can say anything stupid again. He needs to stop himself from confessing even more. “Okay Lan,” you softly say. You grab his hand and draw some figures on it. There’s a comfortable silence between you two. Lando enjoys your soft touches on your hand. He feels himself getting calm and almost falling asleep again. But right before he falls asleep, he can’t stop himself from saying something stupid again. He cam blame the pain meds, but he knows that he means every word.

“Babygirl?” He asks. “Yeah Lan?”

“Please don’t get a boyfriend,” he says. “And please don’t go on a date when you’re back in Monaco with anyone else then me.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that? How on earth will he fix this? Lando closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep instead of thinking what he just did. Lando doesn’t notice the way you have a small smile laying on your lips and how good you feel because of his words.

“I already cancelled that date,” you confess to Lando, “After we fucked I decided that it might be a better idea to practice a bit more.”

Lando opens his eyes and shows you a happy grin. “I don’t think you need a lot of practice,” he says, “but I’m happy to help.”

“That’s a deal.”

“My good girl,” Lando mutters before falling asleep.

part eleven

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

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guardarecheluna · 2 months

Text

You know, i’ve been your baby since the day that we met. (CEO!H)

Words: 8k

Warnings: Pathetic Fluff, Smut (Praise, P in V, Oral, slight daddy kink)

Summary: Harry is bewitched by her, and he would do absolutely anything to make her happy, even though she sometimes doesn’t want him to.

READ THE FIRST CEO ONE SHOT HERE!

A/N: Hellooo my loves! It's been a little while, but now i'm here with a lil CEO update since you all seemed to enjoy him last time. Please let me know what you think of it, it always makes my day to hear from you!

elle x

It was almost like Harry couldn’t remember a life before her. She had filled the bottomless hole in his heart with her warmth, humour, cleverness and love like it was the most simple thing in the world. Harry had never been so happy.

It’s been just 5 months since that night in Harry’s lounge, where his clammy hands were shaking, searching for hers. Where he bared his heart before her, and hoped, hoped that she’d at least tell him she didn’t hate him. Y/N could never hate Harry. Sometimes, when she comes to think about it, she feels absolutely crazy when it comes to him. Like she can’t believe that he is hers. Like maybe she was made just for him. Like maybe they were meant to meet when she started working for Pleasing.

Harry had kept telling her how hard he fell, that he felt like he was jumping from a plane without a parachute, blindly falling and hoping to be caught in his lover’s arms. Harry fell hard, but Y/N fell first.

Y/N’s interview had went better than she ever could’ve expected. It was just the day before that she was asked to Pleasing’s office to do an interview for a position as a senior creative. She left the interview happy and pleased with herself, but honestly?

She couldn’t tell if it was because she had actually done well for the interview, or if it was the Harry-shaped opening in her heart that was slowly cracking her open. The tall brunette had been so kind to her throughout the interview, even offering her a coffee beforehand.

As her first day a Pleasing came and went, Y/N tried to gather up her things from her new office to head home. It had been a wild day, introductions to new people, online courses to help her with their IT systems and endless and absolutely endless pining for her new boss. She could swear that she had never met anyone like him, and especially not a CEO who acted like he did with his colleagues. Harry had this softness to him, almost feminine at times, but with a strong masculine cologne, broad shoulders and deep, gravely voice. He emitted a light and kindness that was difficult to describe if you hadn’t met him. He was like a magnet.

Y/N was sure that if you were to google the definition of kindness, a picture of Harry Styles would pop up on the first page. Don’t quote her on that, though.

Harry had checked on her multiple times during the day, taken her and a few other colleagues out for lunch as a “celebration” he said. He really didn’t act like any other CEO she had met.

“Hey, are you still here? Thought your day ended at five, you must be exhausted.” Harry was doing a final round in the offices. Y/N was the last one left, just wanting to land back on her feet and feel her surroundings after a long first day. She thought she’d be the last one out, but Harry was there as well. Of course he was. Y/N snapped her head up, looking at him. He had almost scared her with his quiet steps into her office space. “Jesus, Harry, you scared me!” Y/N scrunched her eyes shut, putting her hand over her pumping heart. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t resist, I didn’t mean to scare ye’ though.” Harry said with a smirk. Y/N raised her eyebrow at him. “Didn’t mean to, huh? Don’t believe it for a second.” She said, throwing him a suspicious look, but with a smile; she just couldn’t help it. Harry chuckled. “You’ll just have to believe that I’m a kind enough person to not scare away the new employee on the first day, I don’t know what to tell you.” Harry hit back, slight ironic cockiness in his voice.

Y/N just smiled and continued packing up her laptop and the pamphlets she’d gotten from HR, along with a few papers that needed to be signed.

Y/N almost couldn’t look at him without having butterflies erupting in her stomach. Call her stupid, insane, mentally weak, but she could feel a serious crush coming on. Scratch that, it isn’t coming on, it’s already there, burning in her belly and begging to seen and heard.

Or another time, around a month into working for Pleasing when Y/N had knocked on Harry’s office door, almost in tears.

Maybe it sounded dramatic, but getting used to a new workplace, new routines and IT systems; Y/N would find herself frustrated and she hated bothering her colleagues with her questions every 5 minutes.

Y/N knocked on the glass door, her jaw strained and aching with how much she was trying to keep it together.

Harry opened the door, stepping aside. “Hey there, darling. You alright?” He said as he nodded his head to give her a cue to step inside.

He looked so good that day, in one of pristine, ironed suits. The first few buttons were undone, and a fine dusting of hair was peeking out of the shirt as well as the tattoos on his chest that Y/N hadn’t gotten to see the full version of. His lips were chapped, like he had picked on the skin in his anxious thoughts. Y/N swallowed harshly, stepping inside and plopping down on the sofa in his office. “I need your help.” She just said, looking up at him, holding on to her frustrated tears.

Harry could tell she wasn’t her chirpy, flirty and smug self, his heart suddenly feeling gooey and yelling at him to sit down and embrace her.

“Anything, I’m glad you came. What do you need, pet?” Harry said as he closed the door and sat opposite her on another sofa. He was leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I just…I feel frustrated because there’s so many things I don’t have the hang of yet and I hate being a bother to everyone and asking questions all the time. It’s either that I don’t fucking get it or it’s because there’s suddenly new things and I can’t seem to keep up.” She said, her eyes stuck on the cushions Harry was sitting on, afraid that she’d break if she looked right at him.

Harry was quiet for a good while, anxiety washing over Y/N when he wouldn’t answer. She braced herself for some kind of lashing out. She knew he wasn’t like any other boss, but maybe coming to him with this was a mistake, a showcasing of her weakness that would be the end of her time at Pleasing.

“Sorry…I-“ She started before Harry spoke up.

“Darling, don’t ever apologise. You need to go easy on yourself, you’ve been here for just a month and there’s a lot to learn, you don’t have to do everything at once, that’s impossible. I’m really glad you came to me, of course I’ll help you with anything I can.” Harry said softly. Y/N relaxed into her seat, feeling almost dumb for thinking he’d lash out at her. She nodded, finally looking up at him, to find him searching her eyes and smiling kindly. “Thank you, H, I just, I know it’s a competitive business, and I don’t want to ever let you down just because I can’t figure out fucking excel.” She chuckled.

Harry laughed and shook his head. “As if you could ever let me down.” He said under his breath, almost like she wasn’t meant to hear it. “Let’s get to it, then, come sit down next t’me and pull out your laptop.”

Harry had arranged a small get away weekend for the two of them. Coming up on almost 6 months, they were yet to go on a trip together, and Harry wanted nothing more than some quality time with his girl. His girl.

He had spent two weeks trying to plan everything down to the food they were going to cook, to what activities they could do to keep them occupied.

Harry had booked them a cabin in the woods, by a small lake. It was around a three-hour drive from London, which was perfect for going away for a weekend.

A weekend where it would be just the two of them, no distractions of phones or other people, just them. Harry was so excited, struggling to keep it a secret when all he wanted was to spill all the details and spoil Y/N with insight into all his plans, but he kept his mouth shut.

They had already agreed to spend the weekend together at Harry’s, so naturally, they’d drive home together after work on Friday. Harry was driving, one hand on the wheel, and the other finding Y/N’s over the centre consol. Fingers lightly tracing knuckles and palms while Harry had their playlist on in the background.

Y/N sat up slightly and her eyebrows furrowed when she realized that they were going towards her apartment instead, and not his.

“I thought we were staying at yours this weekend?”

Harry laughed, the plan in his head was turning out just the way he wanted it to. He parked the car outside of her building. “Get out with me.” He said, meeting her when he rounded the car. His hands reached out and gripped her jaw, placing a few small pecks on her pink lips. Confusion was still prominent on her face. “We’re going to go upstairs, and you’re going to pack a bag for a weekend away. I didn’t want to say anything, ‘cause I wanted it to be a surprise.” He smiled. Y/N melted into his touch. “Are you serious, where are we going?” Her eyes lit up with excitement at his words. “Not telling you yet, you’ll find out.” She shook her head at his words.

“You’re so sneaky. And here I was thinking that you couldn’t keep a secret if your life depended on it.” Y/N teased as she turned on her heel towards her apartment to pack a weekend bag.

The pair had stopped early in their trip to get some snacks at a gas station, just something to keep them awake after a long day at the office. Y/N had taken off her shoes and cozied up in the passenger seat, manipulating her seatbelt so that her back was leaning against the car door. Her feet was propped up on the centre consol as she observed Harry from her seat. Every little hair on his head, his eyes on the road that sometimes glanced over at her, a smile spreading on his face when he caught her looking at him. One of his hands reached for her, hand spreading out over her knee and squeezing it slightly. “What’s on your mind, pet?” Y/N tilted her head. “Like you don’t know.” She laughed and leant back against the door. “Just thinking about how the hell I landed you.” She continued, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks with the words, but still confident. Harry sighed. “You’ve got it all backwards, I’m afraid. You’re so out of my league it’s insane, I’m surprised I didn’t have to beg on my knees for you to date me.” He replied to her, once again squeezing her knee. “Well, let’s be real, you kind of did.” Y/N said as a comeback, clearly remembering the anxious, thinly spread Harry that night almost 6 months ago. “Alright, that’s enough or I’ll drop you off on the side of the road.” Harry replied, faking a threat as he felt the embarrassment of that evening come over him. “You wouldn’t, think you love me a little too much to leave on the side of the road.” She continued to tease.

Of course she was right.

“Harry. Is this all for us, have you gone completely insane?” Y/N looked at him without a hint of amusement behind her eyes as she stepped out of the car to look at the so called “cabin” that Harry had rented out. Thing is, it wasn’t just a cabin. It was a huge, sprawling estate, hidden away from neighbours and curious gazes. It had to have cost him thousands of punds just for a weekend getaway, and even though Y/N appreciated his act of love, they had had this conversation before; the one about money.

Y/N didn’t grow up with wealth, and neither did Harry. But as the years had passed, Harry had gotten ridiculously rich. No prize on either cars or estates phased him, he barely looked at the cost of things, which Y/N had thought was completely insane, even though she didn’t exactly know the extent of his wealth.

The first argument about money that they had, was early on in their relationship, just a month after they’d become official.

It had been Y/N’s birthday.

They were newly in love. It had been a month. They spent all their awake time together, at work, at home, in bed and weekends. Their hearts were blooming, still with that wondrous love in their hearts each time they looked at each other. Everything was easy, bright and happy.

Y/N’s birthday was coming up, and since she didn’t want to make a big deal of it, she had told Harry that they’d spend it with some of their friends. She had also warned him, to not get her anything as a gift. Y/N wasn’t really aware of what the code was when it’s your partners birthday, but you’re a new couple, so to avoid any awkward feelings, she straight up told him not to get her anything.

Harry wasn’t like that though. He knew her birthday was coming up long before she’d warned him. It might’ve even been one of the first things he’d memorized about her after she left her initial interview at Pleasing. His nosey ass couldn’t keep his nose out of her application papers that was clearly stating her date of birth and age.

He had been a little bit taken aback when Y/N told him not to get her anything, because he had already gotten her something. Something that, in his eyes it wasn’t a big present of any sort, just an appreciation for his girlfriend that he loved more than the number of stars in the sky.

“Can I just get you something small? Please, I know you don’t want anything, but it doesn’t feel right, I just want to celebrate you, you deserve it.” Harry had mentioned over the breakfast they were sharing. Y/N shook her head at him adoringly. “Does it really mean that much to you? A get together with you and my friends is more than enough for me.” Y/N reached out over the table and entwined her fingers through his. He was warm.

“It does, I like giving gifts, and it can be something small, I just want to get you something. If you really don’t want to I won’t but I can’t lie and say it won’t break my heart a little.” He admitted to her. So, she agreed. It was just something small, and she found his urge to care for her so badly very sweet.

And Harry didn’t necessarily lie, the gift was indeed small, but it was expensive. Harry had barely blinked at the prize when he’d went to the jeweller’s and picked out a piece that would suit her perfectly. And maybe that was the problem in all of this. Harry had spent so much of his life by now, bathing in money, and it didn’t really matter to him anymore what things cost him, because at this point, he had made more money than he’ll ever be able to spend.

Y/N didn’t have that, she wasn’t, nor had she ever bathed in money. She was like everyone else, budgeting her money to see what she could spend and save, and she quite enjoyed it, she didn’t have too much or too little of anything.

So when she opened his “small gift” on his sofa, amongst his friend on her birthday evening, she could feel her blood burning when she pulled out a beautiful, white gold bracelet with tiny charms linked to it. Amongst the charms was an “H” initial and amongst a few others that she could recognize meant something to the both of them. A collective gasp was spread through the room, and Y/N knows she should be happy, but right she felt almost embarrassed. Here she was, sat with her regular friends and millionaire boyfriend, while he gifted her jewellery worth thousands of pounds. Harry sat beside her, smiling widely and awaiting a reaction to his gift. Y/N couldn’t find it in herself to be ungrateful, she wasn’t, but she needed to talk to Harry about the way her stomach twisted and turned, how her cheeks turned red and how she felt guilty to receive something like this. But now wasn’t the time. Instead, she turned to him with a weak smile and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, my love.” She simply said before turning back to her friends and picking up another gift. It hurt her. She could see the slight disappointment in Harry’s eyes as she put his gift to the side.

It had all turned into something much bigger. Y/N wasn’t handling his apparent wealth and need to spoil her very well, and Harry was just confused. He couldn’t understand in his wildest mind how she didn’t want him to spoil her. He couldn’t understand her anger, her guilt, and her refusal to let him love her in this way. Because that was it. Plain and simple he loved her. He hadn’t dared to stutter those words since their first night together, and she hadn’t either, but he sure felt it. He felt in his his whole body, and he had for an embarrassing amount of time.

They made up, at last, and she accepted his gift after a few persuasive kisses and promises of no more gifts like these. She made it clear to him that she did appreciate his effort, and the thoughtfulness, but she didn’t appreciate the huge amount of money he had spent. Harry listened and took it to heart. He wanted to make her happy, of course, and gift giving was part of his love language, he just had to learn to tone it down slightly.

That same feeling in Y/N’s stomach that she had on her birthday had returned as she stepped out of the car and looked at the huge house in front of her. It wasn’t like he had bought her a whole house, it was just a weekend away, but it’s the principle of him spending that much money on her that made her uneasy.

“Darling.” Harry just said as he looked over to her. He knew from the look on her face that the same as the one she wore on her birthday. Harry rounded the car to stand right in front of her.

“This isn’t a cabin Harry. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, you know I appreciate when you plan things like this but…” her fingers played nervously with her rings, tears feeling like they could escape from her eyes at any moment. “Look at me.” Harry said, his hand coming up to her cheek, thumb grazing softly over her jaw. “It’s not just a cabin, ‘m sorry. And I know how you feel about this but you also have to know how I feel. I feel like I could never give you enough, you deserve everything I have pet, and sometimes that shows with money. I don’t want it to bother you like this, because I love y- …doing this for you. You must accept that I want to do this and that I’ve got no bad intentions, just want to show you how much you mean to me.” He almost let it slip from his lips. It felt so easy. Y/N swallowed hard. She didn’t want to fight about money, but being taken care of like this was still so foreign to her that she didn’t know how to handle it. She nodded, and looked up at him with watery eyes. “No more.” She just said as she melted into his body, arms wrapping around his middle and her nose searching for his scent lathered in the neckline of his shirt. “There will be more, I want to give you all of it, pet.” Harry replied. She just nodded into the warmth of his chest.

Overwhelmed was the right word. She didn’t know what to do with all these new feelings of guilt that was put in her, where did they come from? Why couldn’t she just accept that he only did this out of pure adoration for her heart?

They got their bags out of the car and stepped inside the house. From the foyer, she could see straight through the house, with a beautiful lake spread out just a few meters from the house. The water on the lake was shimmering in on the roof, which made the whole house look absolutely magical, like something out of a movie.

The house was massive, white walls and high ceilings with an open kitchen carrying dark wooden details and stone countertops. It was the house of Y/N’s dreams.

They spent the afternoon getting settled in, and going down to the lake to have a splash around. Y/N had discovered a porch swing sitting under the balcony, facing the lake and greenery around it, and if she wasn’t already in love with this place, it only intensified when she saw the swing.

But it wasn’t any old, creaky porch swing, it looked almost like a suspended sofa, blankets draped over it and pillows in the corners.

It was her turn to plan something small for Harry.

As they stood in the burning hot shower after their dip in the lake, Y/N hurriedly scrubbed herself down from the dirt and grime and turned to Harry who looked slightly confused at her erratic behaviour. “You got somewhere to be, pet?” Harry chuckled as she hung up her loofah. Y/N had a mischievous look on her face as she wrapped her arms around his middle. “It’s my turn for a little surprise now. I want you to meet my out the back in 40 minutes, and not a minute earlier, alright?” She said as she reached up and placed a single peck on Harry’s chin. Harry nodded, both his hands coming up to her head, carding through her wet hair and pushing it away from the gentle features of her face, then leaning down and connecting their lips. “I’ll be out in 40 minutes.”

Y/N scrambled to put on her comfortable, yet pretty new pyjamas, and dug out what she needed for her little surprise. She pulled out some candles from the depth of a cabinet in the kitchen, a bottle of wine and her speaker, some fruit for them to snack on and finally, a little gift that she had prepared.

The sun had started to set, a few rays still on the porch swing as she got out. She put the candles in the little lanterns and set up a little table for them, wanting to just have some down-time in the porch swing before their evening ended.

Harry stuck his head out the back door exactly 40 minutes later, a big smile on his face, and his freshly washed curls in a mess on top of his head.

Y/N snapped her head around. “Come sit.” Y/N smiled at him and reached out her hand for him, leading him over to the swing. “You’ve made it so lovely out here, pet. So nice to me, always.” Harry whispered to Y/N’s cheek as he pulled her closer to him. Harry was also wearing some cozy clothes, and through her thin pyjamas, she could feel the heat of his body and ripple of his muscle under his skin. He was home.

They sat down and cozied up with a blanked as Y/N poured them wine. “For you, my good sir.” She said teasingly, reaching him the glass of red wine. As she poured herself a glass, she leaned back into the soft cushion of the swing and into his arms. She was curled up, while Harry had his legs on the ground beneath, softly swinging them back and forth.

“I’m really sorry I was acting like I was earlier. I just have a hard time with you spoiling me like this, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate it, I do, I really do, H.” Y/N admitted as she looked up at Harry. He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes studying the lake that was still catching the last few sunrays. Then he shook his head as he caught her eyes. “You don’t have to apologize t’me, pet. I know you appreciate it. I just…I need you to know that this isn’t a one-off thing. I want to be able to spoil you. I also know that I’ve told you all of my intentions with you, I want always with you. I want us to enjoy our life, I want us to explore, I want to…I want to be with you, and sometimes I want to spend money on you. I can’t say that it doesn’t hurt me a little when you reject me like that, but I also understand where you’re coming from.” Harry laid out. Y/N felt her insides twist at his mention of her rejecting him, cause in her head, it wasn’t like that; not at all. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m rejecting you. I want the same thing as you, I just…that I don’t want to…bother you, I think. I don’t make nearly as much money as you do and sometimes it makes me feel like shit because I can’t bring the same thing to this relationship as you can. I guess it’s just something that’s always going to stick with me, but I want to be better.”

Y/N said, trying her best to be vulnerable and let him see her side of things. Harry snapped his head to look at her. “Is that really how you feel? Like you’re a bother to me?” He asked her, genuinely, not accusing her of her feelings, but sounding like he was genuinely concerned and interested in what her answer might be. “I do sometimes. I work for you, and I’m your girlfriend, it’s a bit hard to navigate sometimes, because we see each other so constantly, and I just don’t want you to get tired of me.” Harry nodded at her words, and stayed quiet for a moment. Y/N could see the wheels spinning in his head, trying to put the right words into his mouth. “You don’t ever have to feel like you’re a bother. Ever. I want to spend every moment with you, and I know I am so lucky to get to see you every single day at work. I do all of these things because I care about you, and in a world where money is everywhere and everything, I sometimes don’t think about the value of some things. You say that you bring nothing to this relationship, but I wish I could put into words how wrong you are.” Harry said honestly, his thumb stroking gentle circles over her cheek as he leaned in to connect them in a kiss. “I’m in love with you. I haven’t told you since that first night, but I don’t think I can keep it in me anymore, I need to tell you, all the time. I need you to know that you’re it, f’me. I love you so much, and you’ll never bother me the way you think you are.” He said against her lips, breaths switching between them because they’re close, so close. Y/N feels like her whole body is on fire, she’s blushing, her lower stomach filling with arousal and all the love she feels for him is just waiting to explode out of her like a fountain. So she does the first thing that comes to her mind. She kisses him again, again and again, until they’re out of breath and panting. “I love you, thank you for loving me like you do.” Is all she says, and she can feel him smiling into their kiss. Y/N moves around on the swing, and gently places their glasses back on the tiny table in front of them before pushing harry down to lay on his back. “Need to show you.” She murmurs against his mouth, as he welcomes her wet kisses trailing down his neck, making the hairs on his body stand up. “Yeah? You’re going to show me how much you love me?” He teased, as he let himself be pushed around to her liking. There was just something about Harr’s dirty talk that got her going even more, his velvety, low voice, combined with those forbidden, almost taboo words, mixed with his high praises and promise of pleasure. It was her favourite thing.

Y/N straddled his hips, looking down at him with a blown out pupils and slight smile as she tugged on her top to discard it on the floor. Harry’s hands instantly came up to touch. First smoothing over her belly and ribs until he reached her fleshy breasts, pinching her nipples and gauging her reaction. Her body caved into Harry’s as he touched her, leaning over him, with her breasts right in front of his face. Harry seized the moment, sticking out his tongue to tease her nipples, nipping them and working his tongue over them. A frustrated, pleasured moan came from Y/N as she started grinding her hips on his warm, plumping cock. Harry could feel her warmth through her bottoms, opting to grab onto her hips with his hands to pull her closer to him. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me, pet? Feel how much I love you?” Harry breathed into her hair, kissing her pulse point right under her ear, slightly biting on the earlobe.

“Mmmh” Was all she was able to get out before Harry pushed her away from him, grabbing her hand and rushing off to their bedroom for the weekend.

They barely made it through the door before Harry’s lips were on hers again, hands over any skin he could get to as they got rid of the remains of clothes that they still had on.

“Wanna taste…wanna bite.” Harry said to her skin, moving down the bed as he placed wet kisses down her sternum, belly, until he reached her mound. Y/N panted heavily with just the feel of his hands and kisses on her skin as she tangled her fingers through his locks to see his face properly. “Please.” She mewled when he teasingly places feather-light licks and kisses on her inner thighs and mound. “Be good, you’re going to get it, but you have to be my good girl, okay?” He said in reply to her mewl and her hands trying to steer her towards where she wanted him. “I’m good, I want to be good.” Y/N replied absentmindedly. And just as she was about to complain again, she felt his hot tongue inside of her, licking broad licks from her opening to her clit. Shivers of pleasure rippled through her body as he pleased her with his mouth, sucking, nipping, licking, and massaging wherever he could get to.

“You taste like heaven baby, so sweet for me, always.” Harry said as he came up for air. “More, please, H” Y/N said the moment his lips left her. She could feel herself getting closer to her that cliff of pleasure, just about to fall off when he detached. “I know, pet, you’re so close yeah? Could feel it on my tongue. Want my fingers too?” All she could do was nod, frustrated and writhing around in the crispy sheets. “You know I need your wor-“ “Yes, yes please, please do anything” She interrupted him in desperation, her hazy mind not caring about her manners at all. “Good girl.” Was all Harry said before diving back in with his mouth and fingers, instantly feeling her clench around his fingers as he curved them, poking the squishy island of pleasure with the tips of his fingers. Y/N moaned out as she got close, closer to the edge of her orgasm, raising to her elbows so she could see him. His eyes were closed as he worked his magic on her.

“I’m coming” Y/N airily moaned as her whole body tightened and she let herself fall over the cliff. Harry continued to work her through the waved of pleasure, prolonging her orgasm for as long as he possibly could.

Y/N in her post orgasm haze shot up from the sheets, pulling Harry up to her as she kissed him. She could taste herself on his lips, residual wetness around his mouth and chin transferring onto her skin. It was so hot. Without another word, she rolled him over, straddling him once again, like out on the swing. She sat right over his hard length, not yet putting him in as Harry had a lazy, smile on his face, pupils blown out in arousal and pleasure. Y/N put her hands on Harry’s chest, feeling up his muscles and dragging down to his toned stomach as she started moving over his cock, wetting him with her own arousal.

“Pet, Shhi- I’m not going to last if you grind on me like that.” Harry said as he fixed his eyes on hers, a little wrinkle of strain between his dark brows. Y/N said nothing to him, continuing to slick his cock with her wetness with a playful smile and moans of pleasure leaving her lips every time the head bumped her clit. Harry’s hands took a firm grip around her wrists as he sat up.

“You’re just asking for it, aren’t you? Thought you’d want it slow and sweet tonight, but I guess I was wrong.” Harry said in a harsh tone, although Y/N could see straight through him. “Doesn’t matter, just want you to fuck me. You always tease me so I thought you’d have a taste of your own medicine.” Y/N replied sassily with a scowl on her face, but a sparkle in her eye that gave her away immediately. “You…” Harry chuckled as he pinned her down on the bed, giving himself a few cursory strokes before lining himself up with her. “Tell me, pet. Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll give it to you” Harry mumbled into her neck, kissing and sucking on her salty skin. “Mhh, I love you, please get in me” Y/N whimpered out as she reached down in between them, trying any and everything to get him inside of her. “I love you too, pet, tell me again” He spluttered out, kissing her lips as he finally sank in to her, groaning int her mouth. A wave of relief flooded over Y/N, her desperation for him finally calming down as he poked and prodded at her insides with his cock. Harry picked up his pace, giving her deep, long strokes with his hips as Y/Ns legs wrapped around his body.

Missionary was a classic for the two of them, people found it boring and plain, but for Harry and Y/N, it was their preferred position. Easy access to one another, being able to touch, look, and swallow the other’s moans as they chased their highs. Few things were as romantic for them as missionary. And don’t get this wrong, they are the couple to explore new positions and find other ways to pleasure, but they always returned to this. There was something so raw and pure about it, and they couldn’t get enough.

Their foreheads were stuck together, panting into each other’s mouths as Harry hooked her legs into the crease of his elbows, allowing him to hit her at a new angle. “Baby” Y/N moaned out from the change in angle, his cock hitting her spot head on as he continued to work into her. A layer of sweat was building on his chest and shoulders from the strain of chasing their pleasure, and Y/N wanted to lick it off. He looked so good like this.

“I know, I know it feels so good, pet, I feel it too. You’re the best I’ve ever had, should never let you leave my bed.” Harry praised her in response as he kissed the sides of her face, looking at her blissed out expression. Y/N could feel her orgasm approaching again, and Harry could tell, letting go of one of her legs and reaching down between them to touch her. “H, I’m going to come, please, keep going” She mewled underneath him, trying to chase his movements with her hips as she threw her head to the side and into the pillow. “I’m coming pet, so fucking weak for you. Want it inside, want me to fill you up, baby?” Harry replied with a raspy groan, and that, that made Y/N tip over yes. Her orgasm wracked through her body, her nails digging into Harry’s biceps as she let out sounds of her pleasure. “Inside, please, Daddy, I want it inside.” She encouraged as her eyes glazed over, fixing her eyes on his as she knew he was right after her, wanting the most out of his orgasm, just as he did to her. “Shit- pet you’re playing dirty, Daddy’s gonna come for you, I-“ Harry groaned as he let out pathetic little whimpers. His hips stuttered, burying himself deeper inside of her and catching her lips in a messy kiss, warm tongue sliding over hers. She could feel her lower stomach, warm with him, chuckling and pushing the hair out of his face as he collapsed on top of her completely.

Her nails started raking through his hair and down his back as they basked in the afterglow of their intense sex. Harry placed a gentle kiss on her collarbone and put his head on her shoulder, looking up at her. “I wish I had more words in my vocabulary to tell you how much I love you, I feel like I love you isn’t enough.” Harry spoke genuinely in a low tone. “Write me a book, yeah?” She chuckled as she tried to settle into the moment and enjoy it before having to detangle from each other. “Don’t joke about that, might as well happen, you know.” Harry laughed as he detached their sticky bodies rising from the bed. “C’mon, my love, quick wash up and then sleep.”

Y/N laid there looking at his outstretched arm, completely bare for each other as her heart pumped with pure love and adoration for the man in front of her. She took his hand, and they stumbled into the shower together.

Y/N was awoken by a harsh light in her face, and Harry sitting up on the edge of the bed. He put his phone to his ear, and she could hear him talking lowly on his phone. Casting her a glance and then leaving through the door as to not disturb her sleep.

She could hear him out in the hall.

“I don’t know what to tell you, I can’t….i can’t do anything from here, I’m away for the weekend…No…Well you’re going to have to fix It in some way, call Niall, I’m not available. All I ask is one weekend in quiet and you idiots can’t even do that. Fine. Call Niall and head of security at IT and figure it out, yeah? Bye.”

Y/N listened curiously in her cocoon of blankets, what time was it, why did they need him now?

Harry stepped inside once again and lifted the blankets. Y/N couldn’t really tell if it was anger or worry on his face. “I’m sorry I woke you up, pet. Some idiots at the office don’t know how to handle their job. Let’s go back to sleep.” She could tell he tried his best not to let anger spill out on their conversation, and she felt bad for him, always having to be available and never catching a break. This job would be the death of him some day.

“You’re alright, baby. It’s not your fault. What did they need you for?” She tried with a gentle voice, welcoming him into her arms as he settled in bed and turned off the bedside lamp. “There’s been some kind of security breach in one department, and someone is trying to leak personal data and now they want a ransom to not leak the data and get out of our systems.” Harry sighed. Jesus. “There’s nothing I can do, but they’re calling in head of IT and security to have a look at it, it’s happened before, but hopefully it’s just a scare. Didn’t want to wake you up though, I’m sorry,” He continued, obviously feeling defeated and helpless in the situation.

“I’m sure there’s a way to make it up to me.” Y/N tried as she placed gentle kisses on his jaw and neck, and she could feel Harry instantly relaxing and smiling at her wording. “Yeah? Tell me and I’ll make it up to you.” He let her lead him on, feeling her hands playing with the elastic of his boxer briefs. “Guess.” Harry shook his head in adoration as he pulled down his boxers and took her underwear off in the same movement, getting in behind her and pushing inside of her. No preparation was needed. Nothing got him harder when he knew she wanted him.

“Fuck, it hasn’t even been two hours and I’ve already missed being inside of you.” Harry admitted with a sigh as he entered her again.

It was lazy, raw and desperate sex, in the middle of the night. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about her, having her in every way imaginable. And he kept thinking about his life from over a year ago, when he had no idea that she, the love of his life, was about to enter into her life. And even if it was just something small, like having sex to take the edge off from the day, Harry couldn’t imagine anything else for his life as they fell asleep cuddled up to each other, leaving no room for work or security breaches to enter his mind. It was just them.

Back at work, a few days later, Lydia, Y/N’s co-worker and close friend smiled suspiciously at Y/N as she prepared her desk for the workday,

“There’s something up with you, and I can’t tell what it is.” Lydia wiggled her eyebrows with an interrogating look on her face. Y/N blushed slightly, but tries to keep a straight face through the conversation, having a sip of her morning coffee. “I’m an open book.” Y/N tried to play, but she could tell that Lydia wasn’t buying it. “You. Me. Meeting in Atlas in 5 minutes. We need to have a MEETING.” Lydia pressed, gathering her things and rushing off to the free meeting room to have a pretend meeting with her best friend. Y/N rolled her eyes and went after her. She could never keep anything from Lydia. She just knew stuff without knowing. Of course, the whole office knew about Harry and Y/N getting involved, but they kept in on the low.

“Alright. Spill the beans, all of them, right now.” Lydia said immediately when she closed the door and plopped down in a chair opposite of Y/N. Just as she was about to answer her, Harry walked by on the other side of the glass. He glanced inside, smiling his brilliant smile and sending her a quick wink before he was off. Y/N looked up with a smile spreading over her face, just from that small interaction. Lydia didn’t even have to turn around. “It’s him, yeah?” Y/N nodded, eyes stuck on the glass where he had just walked by. “I think I’m going to marry him.” Y/N said as she kept looking through the glass. Her heart grew every time she looked at him. If this wasn’t love, then she didn’t know what was.

And Lydia just burst out laughing, a true belly laugh, like she hadn’t heard anything funnier in her whole lifetime. “Babe, tell me something I don’t know. I’ve never seen two people as dumb in love with each other as you two. I’m sure there’s going to be a ring on your finger in the next year, but probably tomorrow if Harry got to have it his way. Plus, you two wreaked of “I just had the best sex of my life” the minute you stepped into the building”

Y/N just blinked at Lydia, blushing at her comment. She hadn’t heard anyone talking about them like that before, and it made her heart grow three sizes. Was it that obvious to everyone? Even Harry?

“Really, you think so?” Y/N replied with a watery smile. Lydia looked at her with a smile. “I know so. There’s absolutely no doubt. I’ve known Harry for about three years, and he’s never been like this, ever. It’s like a different person, I’m telling you- “. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, both Lydia’s and Y/N’s eyes flying up to see Harry at the door. “Hello ladies, I was just wanting to borrow Y/N for a quick second.” He tried to be professional, bless him, but the smile overtaking his features revealed him. Lydia smiled at him. “Of course. No funny business, Mr. Styles.” She teased him with a smack on his arm as she left the room, turning around when she was behind him and staring at her intensely, “I TOLD YOU” She mouthed to her.

Y/N chuckled, rising from her chair and meeting Harry halfway around the conference table. “What a pleasure, Mr. Styles, what could you want me for, huh?” Y/N teasingly smiled as she stepped into his embrace. Harry looked down at her with nothing but love in his eyes, his thumb grazing her cheek as she leaned into his touch, “Just wanted to ask the lady if she would like to have dinner with me, tonight. Was thinking about making my famous curry, and I’d like for you to be there.” Harry continued with his little act. “Well, my good sir, I would really like that. I’ll see you later, then.” Y/N replied courteously as she began walking out; but not before Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her back into him. Both his hand on her face, gently passing his fingers through her hair and picking at stray pieces of hair, lovingly. “I love you, be good, yeah?” He said in a way that made her lower stomach flutter with arousal. “I’ll be good. I love you.” She replied before he attached his lips to hers in a long, soft kiss. A few more pecks for good measure, and then she turned around and left, a glimmer in her eye.

Harry stood glued in his spot, completely besotted with her and everything that was her. “I think I need to marry her.” He whispered to himself as he shook out of his daydream, to continue his workday.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles masterlist #ceo!harry #ceo harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months

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Practice On Me — Part Thirteen — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Backstreet’s back, ALRIGHT! Or rather, the Bat Boys™️ sort their issues out. Tathaln’s ball is officially announced. Azriel gives Kaeda a piece of his mind. Fin has no business being the sexy dad he is. Roza’s worried about reader.

Word count: 6.3k.

Warnings: None for this part.

All is silent, save for the rhythmic tick-tick-ticking of the clock. Cassian has always hated that clock. Finds it fucking annoying.

But it fills the vacant hole that exists in the absence of conversation. That hole is open and gaping between Cassian and Azriel. It’s not a table that sits between them — it’s a dangerous, yawning chasm.

Az stares at Cass, and Cass feels uncomfortable. He’s seen that cold gaze be levelled on people hundreds of times, thousands. To be on the receiving end feels a little like staring death in the face. He actually kind of wishes that Kaeda hadn’t been sent off to the dorms to sleep off her drunken state, because at least then he wouldn’t be the only one here, being subjected to…this.

So, he stands up, so abruptly that his chair almost topples over, and asks, “Want me to make you some tea?” The question feels stupid the second it leaves his lips.

Azriel’s eyes track him, drink in every uneasy shift and twitch. It’s not that Cass is afraid of Az — though anybody with half a brain cell would be — just that he’s not good in these situations. Situations where he has to be serious and…and listen.

“Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s cold voice stops him before he can move. “When, in our years of friendship, have you ever once made me tea?”

Cass peers over a broad shoulder and shrugs half-heartedly. “First time for everything…”

“Sit.”

The word brooks no room for argument. Cassian does, indeed, sit.

It’s then that Azriel heaves a deep sigh, his entire body taut as a bowstring, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Cass blinks. “What?”

“I’m sorry—for what I did in the mead hall. I…had no right.”

“…But Y/N and I…”

“It’s not for me to dictate whether the two of you should or shouldn’t lie together. My…jealousy…is my problem, and mine alone.”

This is hard, Cassian realises — for Az to say this. For him to face it. And Cass can relate to that. Not everyone can be as silver-tongued as Rhysand. The Mother knows, Cass himself isn’t.

But he also isn’t an idiot. Some people may believe him to be, and that’s their mistake, because being proved wrong is usually the last thing they remember before waking up to a healer standing over them. He’s aware enough of his surroundings to know that something was brewing between Azriel and Y/N for years before Cass took her to bed…or kitchen counter, or…whatever.

“I need to be better,” Cassian offers, “at thinking before I act. Thinking about who I might hurt with my decisions. I’m working on it.”

Az studies his friend, and he feels no anger. If anything, it’s guilt that claws at the shadowsinger. He gave poor Cass a pretty good hiding over something that was, essentially, none of his business. And it could have all been different if Az simply wasn’t a coward, afraid of his feelings.

Something he needs to work on.

And perhaps he’s doing that as, rather than burying the topic, he asks, “What…what actually happened? How did you end up sleeping together? I mean…do you have feelings—”

“No.” Cassian cuts him off, blinking. “Gods, no. I love Y/N, you know that. But not romantically. I just…I felt so damn useless that night, Az. If you’d seen the way Y/N was…the self-loathing. I didn’t know how to help.”

Immediately, Azriel’s brow pinches. “Self-loathing?”

“Because of what her father did to her. When we were flying to Fenlaros, and she was the only one being carried in…”

Azriel slumps back in his chair, feeling like a godsdamned idiot.

He blinks forward and wonders what the fuck the point is in being born a shadowsinger when he obviously can’t read situations very well. Within seconds, it’s clicking into place.

“And then you started that fight with that Fenlarion male,” Cass continued. “and Kaeda just declared that it was her you were fighting over…and everyone has a limit, you know? I think that night was just all too much for Y/N. And she was so upset, so downtrodden…talking about how she hated herself. And I’m not good with words like Rhys is, and I’m not as observant as you are, but I am good at physical touch. Physical comfort. And it seemed like the only thing I could offer in that moment to take that bleakness away from her. But I should have thought about how you would feel—”

“I’m glad you were there for her.” Azriel blurts, realising, with every word, how much he means them. “I wasn’t. I failed her that night.”

“I really didn’t know that the two of you had been exploring things. If I did, I wouldn’t have done it. I mean…that fight you started wasn’t over Kaeda at all, was it?”

Az’s eyes shutter. And it goes against every natural instinct of his to strip himself bare and just…be honest. Every steel wall he’s ever built up is screeching in its effort to stand strong and not be caved in. And those walls were necessary in a life of darkness and hate…but that life is long gone.

What good do those walls do him in an environment where he has love, has people who genuinely care for him? As much as he wants to run and hide from his feelings as he always has…he thinks that the key to happiness may be on the other side of those walls. That a new bravery lays in letting some light filter through the cracks and warm a guarded heart.

His voice is quiet, laced with a self-preserving fear, as he admits, “No. It was not.”

Before Cassian can offer an encouraging response, the front door is swinging open, and Rhysand is kicking snow from his boots and trudging in. Azriel tenses like a threatened animal — but there is no threat here. Only safety, only love. He forces his shoulders to relax.

The violet-eyed male takes in the sight before him. Goes still as he looks between his two friends. “Please tell me this is a positive conversation.”

Cassian inclines his head. “Work in progress. Why don’t you make some tea?”

“Fuck you, make your own tea—”

“Make me some tea—”

“Kiss my ass, dickhole—”

“I’m in love with Y/N.” Azriel blurts.

It promptly shuts the other two males up.

They turn away from their bickering to look at the shadowsinger. He looks…shocked, by his own confession.

“I’m in love with her,” he breathes.

Cass and Rhys share a glance, and then Rhys is slowly approaching the table, carefully taking a seat like he doesn’t want to startle Azriel out of the moment.

“We know, Az.” Rhys tells him gently. “I mean…I think we always suspected…”

“I started that fight in Fenlaros because I was jealous of that damn male having his hands all over her. Saying the things he was saying. It was nothing to do with Kaeda.”

“You should really tell her — Y/N, I mean. Tell her how you feel.”

Azriel’s eyes trace a mark in the table as he admits, “Kind of already have. When she came to speak to me earlier today.”

Another glance is shared between Cassian and Rhys. And both are equally surprised — figure they would have heard something about it. Unless…unless it hadn’t gone down well.

And now that Rhys thinks about it, Y/N had been tense whilst he’d flown her back to Velaris. Taut in his arms and barely uttering a few words. Perhaps this was why.

“Did she…not take it well?” Rhys hedges. He wants to be delicate, not go blasting in at full-force. So rarely do they get to see such a vulnerable side to Az.

Azriel shakes his head once. “It’s not that, it’s…” He clears his throat. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“How?” Cass pushes, and Rhys shoots him a warning glance.

But Azriel doesn’t balk from it, doesn’t slink back in his seat. Instead, he lifts his head, and he levels his friends with a desperate look.

“There’s more that I haven’t told you.” He says.

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A short while later, Az thinks that maybe talking through his feelings is a good thing. Just saying the words has a little bit of weight easing from his chest, his shoulders.

But Cass and Rhys aren’t saying anything at all. Cass and Rhys are staring at him like he has two damn heads.

And then Cassian sits up, barking, “Tathaln Baralas wants what?”

“Exactly what I told you.” Azriel shakes his head. “He wants me to move to Fenlaros and work alongside him. Has some sort of backing from the High Lord, though I’m not sure how much. In a nutshell, Kaeda’s interest in me has always been driven by her father.”

“I knew that little wasp was up to something. You know she tried to kiss me tonight?”

Az shrugs. Really could not give a fuck. “I figured something had happened from the look on your face.”

“I never liked her. Nor her father—”

“Her father,” Rhys cuts in, “walks a very fine line in presuming to exceed in his role as a Camp Lord. His ego and title are going to his head a little, it would seem, if he believes he has the authority to scheme such ideas.”

“It’s a terrible idea.” Cass says. Neither of the other two noticed him get up, but he’s returning to his seat, speaking around a mouthful of food. “All Illyrians in one big camp? They’ll kill each other.”

Rhys is inclined to agree. But he turns a neutral — maybe gentle — expression on Az and asks him, “Do you want to go to Fenlaros?”

It would kill him if Az said yes. Would kill Cass, too. These recent days of being torn apart by tension has been bad enough. Being in different camps and not seeing each other is an almost unbearable thought.

But they would find a way to live with it, if Az decided he wanted to go. They’d find a way to be okay with it.

Such thick silence fills the room that the thudding of all three of their hearts is audible.

But then Azriel replies quietly, “No.”

Neither Rhys nor Cassian bother to hide their relief.

“I told Kaeda I would think about it.” Azriel goes on. “And I told Y/N that I’d promised Kaeda that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really intended to think about it — or needed to. I think…I think I was just using it to bide my time. To create space for myself and…avoid everything else.”

“By everything else,” Cassian chomps into a loaf of bread, “do you mean facing your feelings for Y/N?”

Azriel can’t deny it. He nods. “It’s not an easy thing to face…to be vulnerable. Hiding behind this Fenlaros situation has just been easier. Cowardly, yes, but…easier.”

“You can’t keep pushing her away, though, Az.” Rhys says. “You can’t let her think that you might be leaving if you have no intention of doing so.”

The shadowsinger’s eyes flutter shut, thick, dark lashes grazing his cheekbones. “Do you think I’ve fucked it beyond repair?”

“No.” Cassian offers. “But you will, if you don’t start handling this the right way. Tell Kaeda and Tathaln to fuck off. Tell Y/N you’re in love with her and want to see her naked—”

“Watch it.” Azriel warns quietly, but Cass continues, unperturbed.

“Just start letting more people in. And I’ll stop letting so many people in, because it gets me into trouble. I think…I think we all need to grow up a little. Do better.”

Rhysand’s brow pinches. “What do you mean, we all do? I’ve done nothing other than put my own pleasure aside to advise you idiots. What could I possibly need to do better?”

Cassian shrugs. “That haircut, for one. It’s annoying.”

“And when was the last time your hair saw a comb, Cassian?”

“When was the last time you were generous and made tea for your good, long-suffering friend?”

“So this is about the tea.”

“Of course it’s about the tea, jackass. Zakai clearly isn’t with you for your observational skills…”

Azriel sits back, allowing their bickering to become background noise. There’s a warmth to the sight, the sound, that makes him realise he never again wants a repeat of this situation — of being apart from his friends for days, tension thick between them.

He loves Rhys and Cassian. Loves them dearly.

Another reason why he could never, ever turn his back on this place.

And he finds himself actually being…grateful…that Cass was there for Y/N that night. That she didn’t have to suffer her self-loathing alone.

There’s still a lot to get through, of course. Daunting emotions and truths to face head-on. But as he watches the two loveable idiots in front of him take verbal swipes at each other, it’s the first time in a while that he wonders if things might actually be okay.

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The news is announced the next day, when Lord Devlon gathers a rather colourful bunch of his soldiers in the mead hall and stands at the front, silencing them all with a single shout. Rhys, Cassian and Azriel stand against the far back wall, their arms folded over their chests.

Gods, they hope it’s not another training exercise. Not so soon. Az has things he wants to resolve before he saunters off and possibly gets himself killed.

But Devlon reads the roll of parchment in his hands, a frown contorting his features. He looks up, his eyes very deliberately finding Rhysand as he announces to the room, “A message from the High Lord.”

And every other gaze is then swivelling to turn on Rhys, too. There’s something accusatory about it, like they’re assuming he’s privy to whatever it is their asses have been dragged out of bed to hear.

He isn’t. He wants to be in bed, too.

“Looks like you pricks better get your dancing shoes ready.” Devlon raises his eyebrows. “The High Lord is calling for a ball. Legions from all camps invited.”

This — this is exciting news for the brutish males who could fill the mead hall with their egos alone. Not because they have a particular affinity for dancing, but because amongst themselves, they’re already murmuring about which particular camps they dislike for some reason or other, and what they plan to do about it. So many bloodthirsty streaks are painted in those males’ eyes, stamping out the tiredness that lay there only moments before.

Nothing pricks an Illyrian male’s ears up quite like the prospect of a fight.

“The legions from each camp have been carefully selected, and you lucky fuckers will be representing Windhaven.” The Camp Lord continues, disdain dripping from his voice. He wants his men out there training in the cold, not prancing around a dance floor. “Plus-ones are allowed, also, so it might be time to splash out on a pretty gown for whoever is warming your bed these days. The ball is to be held on Starfall, at a neutral venue of the High Lord’s choosing, and I expect you all to make Windhaven — and me — look good. Any questions?”

“Do we actually have to dance?” One male asks, while another one pipes up with, “Will those pricks from Camp Steelshore be there?”

Rhys shuts out the litany of battling voices as he turns a concerned look on Az and Cass. Their expressions mirror his own. Something about this feels…off.

So while he looks like he’s merely lounging against the wall, hands in his pockets, he sends his inner claws spearing straight for Devlon’s mind. He doesn’t give away what he’s doing, not even slightly, as he roots around in the Camp Lord’s thoughts and grabs for his glimpse of the letter. Rhys scans it, drops the thought, and he’s out of Devlon’s mind and straightening himself up before the male can so much as flinch.

“Let’s go.” He tells his friends, and not Devlon nor the males around them seem to care as Azriel and Cassian follow him, the formidable trio traipsing out into the thawing snow, regardless of whether the meeting is over or not.

They’re halfway back to the house, safely out of earshot, when Cassian finally barks, “A ball? What the fuck?”

“At the request of Tathaln Baralas.” Rhys reveals. “That’s what the letter said. He took the idea to my father, and the asshole is humouring him. This has all got to be part of Tathaln’s plan.”

Cassian scowls and spits his disdain at the ground. “Someone needs to drive a poison arrow through that prick’s heart already. I don’t like this one bit.”

“It’s my father’s intentions I’m worried about.” Rhys shakes his head. “Tathaln only has the power that my father gives him. One word from him and this idea could be snuffed out and never mentioned again. And I expected that to be the case. Arrogant as fuck he may be, but my father isn’t stupid. He’ll know what a terrible idea this is, and I would have predicted that he’d laugh in Tathaln’s face for mentioning it. I didn’t think he’d actually entertain it…which means—”

“There’s something in it for him.” Azriel finishes.

Rhysand nods. “Every single move and choice my father makes is, ultimately, for his own gain. He would never agree to anything if he weren’t getting something out of it himself. Whatever Tathaln has proposed to him…my father will be using it for his own gain.”

Cassian opens the door to the cottage and strides in, forgetting — as always — to kick the snow from his boots. “What, though?” He asks. “What could Tathaln have that your father could want?”

Rhys shrugs and waves a hand, magic promptly mopping up the wet, melting trail left in Cassian’s wake. “That, I don’t know.”

“So what do we do?” Az watches him closely, trying to read the thoughts on the male’s face. His shadows reach out to him, too. “Are you going to talk to your father? Make him see how ridiculous this idea is?”

“No,” Rhys shakes his head. “There would be no point. I could lay a whole host of truths out to my father, and he’d go against them on ego alone. He must want something badly enough for him to be throwing money into it. This ball won’t be cheap.”

“And it won’t be a ball, either.” Cassian cocks an eyebrow. Roots through the kitchen cupboards for food. “Blood will be spilled. And you can’t dance on blood. I’ve tried. Too slippy.”

Rhys chooses to ignore that little scrap of information. Mostly because he doesn’t doubt it for a second. “I don’t want us to pre-empt anything.” He says. “If I go straight to my father with concerns about any of this, it could blow up in our faces, instead. For the time being, I think we should just…go along with it. Watch it play out, and see what happens. My father is unpredictable. Even I can’t tell you what goes on in his head.”

“I can speak with Kaeda.” Az clears his throat. “See if she’ll tell me anything.”

“You have fun with that.” Cassian mumbles, biting into something. “I’d sooner chop my balls off and nail them to the front door.”

“Such a way with words. It’s no wonder, really, that females fall at your feet.”

Cass shoots him a wicked grin. And this…this is nice. What they’ve both missed. This is normal.

“I’ll keep an eye and ear out for anything.” Rhys drags them back to the subject at hand. “But my father’s good at not letting anyone know things until he wants them to know them. And he’s clearly serious about this.”

Cassian swallows. Takes another bite. “And until then? Until we know what he’s even serious about?”

Violet eyes sparkle with mischief, and one side of Rhysand’s lips tips up. “Until then, boys,” he says, “you’d better practice your dancing.”

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Azriel really hopes she’s not there, but sure enough, when he enters his room at the dorms, Kaeda is sitting up in his bed.

It gives him a little bit of satisfaction to see her look…less than perfect, for once. Her hair is knotted, and even the vibrancy of the red shade seems a little dulled. Her skin is sallow, her eyes bleary. He wonders if she’s as miserable as she currently looks.

She beholds him with a strangely coy look, like she’s waiting for him to rip into her. But if she really knew the shadowsinger, she’d know that that is not his style. He does not shout. He rarely fights physically. His danger lies in his quiet voice and icy stare.

Kaeda’s tired eyes fall to the blanket pooled around her waist, and she murmurs, “You’re angry with me.” Her throat bobs with a swallow. “I understand. But I appreciate you putting me to sleep in here when I was in a vulnerable state.”

“I would have done it for anyone.” Az presses his back against the wall, folding his arms. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

The female merely bows her head. Doesn’t bother to argue.

“I have a question.” Azriel then says. “I’d like an answer.”

“I know that Cassian has probably told you about last night, and all I can say is I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I was drunk and upset and I—”

“I don’t care about that.” He really doesn’t, and it shows on his face. “I want to know what your father is playing at by organising an Illyrian ball. I don’t believe for a second that the gesture is an innocent one.”

She glances down again, but Azriel doesn’t buy the coy act for one moment.

“Kaeda.” His voice is laced with warning. “Tell me.”

“It’s just…a ball. A ball to have all camps in one place, so he can get a good look at what each one has to offer. It’s nothing sinister.”

“So, a chance for him to scout more supporters for his cause.”

“He’s trying to make a change, Azriel. A good one—”

“He’s interfering with lives. Tearing families apart.”

“Good results require difficult choices.” Her voice hardens.

The shadowsinger bites out a cold, brusque laugh, turning away from her. “Mother above, he has you trained well.”

There’s movement behind him. Kaeda is kicking the sheets away and pushing to her feet. And she’s…seething.

“You would laugh in the face of somebody trying to make a positive change?” She snaps. “What reason have you to be so arrogant? At least my father is trying to make a difference. All you’re doing is clinging to a miserable life in a miserable place where you don’t even have a family or home of your own—”

“Except that I do.” Azriel rounds on her so quickly that his wing knocks a fragrance bottle off a shelf. “I may not have your riches, and that’s fine, because I have a group of people — a family I made — who love me enough to care whether or not I come home at night. Who want nothing less for me than happiness and contentedness, and not just to use me as a pawn in some convoluted plan that will do more harm than good. I have reason to be in Windhaven, whether it’s miserable or not. I have love here. So much of it. And there’s nothing — not a damn thing — that would make me turn my back on it.”

Something in his impassioned speech clearly hits a nerve with Kaeda. She goes still.

And she looks…small, despite being fairly tall. She looks…insignificant.

Her eyes fill with tears. One spills over and rolls down her cheek as she whispers, “Please, Azriel.”

Azriel says nothing. Stares at her.

“Please.” She takes a step closer. “I’m not above begging. I…” Her voice cracks. “I need this. I need you to say yes—”

“Your father,” he interrupts quietly, “is playing a very dangerous game. And he’s using you to do it.”

“You don’t understand. I…if I can’t give him what he wants, I’m finished. I’ll have no home to go to, nobody on my side.”

“You already have nobody on your side. You’re his daughter and he’s dangling your livelihood over your head and ready to snatch it away if he doesn’t get what he wants. You’re already finished.”

“Please.” She says again. Tears are streaming, now, and she tries fruitlessly to wipe them away. “Please, just…if this is about Y/N—”

“Do not,” he grits out, “bring her into this.”

“She’s already in this. I know that you want her and not me…that you always have…and that’s fine. Bring her to Fenlaros with you, if you must. I’m sure my father could be persuaded on that. But just…please—”

“You’re not listening, Kaeda. This isn’t just about my family. It’s about all the other families that would be separated, ripped apart by your father’s scheming. He’s power hungry. This is just the beginning of a whole host of self-serving plans that will bring him glory — do not doubt that for a second. People like him are never satisfied, and he needs to be stopped. Not encouraged.”

“You’re wrong.” Her voice is so weak, Az isn’t convinced she believes her own words. “He just wants a better future for Illyria—”

“No.” Az levels her with a pointed look. “He wants a better future for himself. I will not play a part in that, and neither will my loved ones.”

“Azriel, please—”

“I will attend your father’s ball, just as Lord Devlon has ordered me to do.” He breezes to the door, not caring that this is his room he’s leaving her behind in. He stops, palm poised on the handle. “But as for delivering a male straight into your father’s den? You better start trying that seduction on somebody else. Because there is nothing that would make me follow you into that camp.”

He leaves without a glance back. And while it sits uncomfortably inside him that he made a female cry…he can’t help feeling like he’s finally doing the right thing.

About time, too.

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This — this is the last thing you ever would have expected of coming to Velaris.

The tonic you’d needed was an extended amount of girl time with Roza. And yet here you are…in the High Lord’s arms.

“This is useless.” You murmur, aware of every single place your body brushes against his. One of his hands is a firm weight on the small of your back, the other clasping yours. “I’m not a natural dancer. Fuck, I’ve never even been to a dance.”

Fin’s mouth tips up at the corners. “There’s that filthy mouth.” His hand lets go of yours, opting to move up to the cut of your jaw, where he allows his thumb to rest on your lower lip. “You,” the pad of it swipes slowly over your mouth, “are going to be exquisite.”

You square your shoulders. Cock a challenging eyebrow. “Is that genuine encouragement, High Lord? Or an order?”

A deep chuckle. Slowly — reluctantly —he lets his hand drop. “Both.”

Flirting with him like this, playing the part of the High Lord’s pet, is a necessary evil. You’re just so surprisingly good at it that you can’t discern whether it’s an affront to him, or to Roza. Or both.

But you can’t deny that you’ve been flattered by his undivided attention this past week. And perhaps he’s been flattered by yours, too.

Mother bless Roza for her undying support. The best you can do for her, right now, is to keep her in the loop. She merely tells you to be careful.

But a week — a week of cosying up to Fin, of breaking through his exterior and appealing yourself to him. You humour him with these dance lessons, with the preposterously expensive shopping trips and dinners, the late night fireside conversations. Anything, everything, to get him to tell you what truth lies behind the excited glint in his eyes whenever he speaks of the ball. To tell you what it is he’s planning.

Perhaps you’re not appealing enough. You are no more aware than anyone else. And that’s really fucking frustrating.

At least your hard work has kept you from thinking about Azriel every five minutes.

Your breath still heaving from your dance efforts, you make your way over to the table of refreshments by the huge, arcing windows that overlook the city. The High Lord’s palace, you have to admit, is a place you might miss once you’re back in Windhaven. You’ve never been one for luxury, never had more than a few things to your name — but the views are what makes you feel like the richest person in all of Prythian. These are not the cold, barren views of your camp, but a place of such vibrancy, it sometimes makes you want to cry. It’s like the setting of a storybook, laid out right before you.

From behind, slow, graceful footsteps sweep across the wooden floor. Fin comes to a stop so closely behind you that his body heat encases you.

Fingertips make contact with your skin, the back of your neck. The sleeveless tunic you wore for your practice now feels like nothing more than a paper towel.

“You have such beautiful skin.” Fin says roughly, and you tense. So far, this week, he’s kept a respectful distance away. Hasn’t put you in any awkward positions.

You pivot under his touch, pressing your back up against the table enough that his hand drops. It’s not entirely for show as you smile apologetically and tell him, “Sorry — scars.”

Such genuine, slicing rage fills his face. The intensity of it almost knocks you breathless.

“I will kill him.” He says the words like a lover’s promise. “With my bare hands, I will kill him for taking your wings.”

He had the power to stop the practice before you were even born. He is very old — over nine-hundred-years — and very powerful. What he says, goes.

And yet…he means it. You can see it. And perhaps you have seen so much unkindness, such brutality, that little scraps of ferocity, of passion, in your defence, make you a blinded fool.

But a part of him — however small — actually cares about you. Enough to mark your abuser for death.

But your father’s blood will soak your hands, and yours only.

You smile up at him, wickedly, cunningly, prettily. “No, you won’t.” You reply. “Because I will do it first.”

And the fury in his stare simmers immediately to a different sort of heat. Your words are a flirtation to him — a cut of raw meat dangled above a hungry, waiting animal. They make him feel something.

“Such a murderous little thing.” His soft laugh caresses your skin. He sounds pleased — impressed. “I like that. I like it a lot.”

“I would hope so. I am to be your special guest at the ball, after all.” A small voice in your head wants to coax him; tell me what you’re planning, tell me what to expect.

But, as always, he steers the conversation away, a vague, mysterious smile on his face. “Do you like it here in Velaris, my murderess?”

“I do, very much so.”

“I can’t help pondering how much you would thrive here. You were made for so much more than Windhaven. Illyria, even.”

A soft, coy smile — one that comes from deep within that part of you that wants the praise, the compliments — that needs them. “Many would disagree with you.”

“Show them to me, and I will twist their minds until they see in you what I do.”

“And what is it you see in me?” A disingenuous little liar. A good actress. A traitor.

Fin leans down, and for one startling, heart-stopping, stomach-lurching moment, you think his mouth might meet yours.

But his lips brush over your cheek in a tender, barely-there caress. He presses a kiss to the skin before retracting. Straightening himself out. The way he slides his hands into his pockets with casual arrogance reminds you so much of Rhys that you miss your friend instantaneously.

“I see beauty that is unappreciated, and intelligence that is underestimated.” Fin says. “And I see a female that I wouldn’t mind having at my side.” His eyes trace you from head to toe. “I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

No response sits on your tongue. You think you might be too surprised by the genuine praise. The fact that the High Lord actually feels some level of affection towards you.

Maybe you’re not so bad at these games.

He turns without waiting for your response, and only when he’s at the door does he make eye contact with you over his shoulder.

“Keep practicing the dancing, my murderess.” He says. “We’ll make a fine pair at that ball.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

If Roza weren’t so worried, she might laugh at the three expressions of outrage that meet her when she strolls into the cottage.

Rhysand jumps up immediately and demands, “Did you fly here? You’re supposed to be resting.”

Roza merely rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind her. “Don’t get your undergarments in a bunch, Rhysand. I’m pregnant — not on my death bed. The babe is fine.”

Her son does not look convinced. Neither do Azriel or Cassian. As if they’re, like, experts on pregnancy, or something.

“What are you doing here, mother?” Rhys stalks straight to the fire and stokes it. Then straight over to the kitchen to make a hot drink. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Mostly.” Roza pauses. “I hope.”

Azriel sits up at that. “Is Y/N alright?”

“She’s fine.” If playing games with the High Lord of the Night Court can be considered fine. Roza eases herself into a seat, and Cassian is promptly propping cushions behind her back. “I want to talk to you about the ball.”

Cass’s lips turn up into a half-smile. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, Roz. Promise.”

“You’d better be. Because I want all three of you looking out for Y/N at that ball, do you hear me?”

The command is a firm one, and yet the three males don’t straighten up at her matriarchal tone like they usually do. Instead, they share a puzzled glance, frowns pinching their features.

“It’s a ball for Illyrian soldiers and their guests of choice.” Rhys explains, carrying a steaming mug over to her. “None of us are bringing her along. Not to that.”

“You may not be.” Roza slides a protective hand over her bump. “But your father is.”

All three males go so preternaturally still, it’s almost frightening.

Rhys bites out, quietly, “What?”

“Your father is taking Y/N to the ball as his special guest. He’s bought her a gown, taught her to dance — he’s serious about this.”

“He can’t.” The shadowsinger’s face is like rolling thunder. “He cannot take her there. All those males—”

“That’s precisely why I’m not attending. He needs someone in my place, and he’s taking Y/N.”

“He can choose someone else.” Azriel’s clipped tone, his panic, is not at all personal to Roza. Usually, he would never speak to her in such a way, but—

But this is Y/N they’re talking about. Y/N in the High Lord’s hands, at a ball with so many Illyrian males, too many Illyrian males.

“Watch your tone, Azriel.” Rhys warns, but Roza is holding up a hand. Because she gets it — the panic.

“I’ve tried telling him to take somebody, anybody, else.” She says. “He’s insistent — absolutely adamant that he wants Y/N.”

“But why?” Cassian frowns.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if his kindness to her is genuine or not.” She shakes her head, absentmindedly stroking her bump. “All I know is that he’s taking Y/N to that ball, and I’m not going to be there. You know, Rhysand, that there is no changing your father’s mind once it’s set. I need the three of you to look out for her.”

Because Y/N is just as much a daughter to Roza as the little girl growing in her belly. They know that.

Rhys inclines his head, reaching out to place a hand over Roza’s. “We will, mother.” He promises. “Whatever game he’s playing…we’ll look after Y/N.”

Roza’s eyes dart to Azriel, to Cassian. “Do you promise?”

“We promise.” Cassian, unfazed as always, grins. “You just focus on the little one, Roz.”

Azriel’s face is grave, but he nods once. “We won’t let her out of our sight.”

Y/N is in good hands with them, Roza knows. She may even be in good hands with Fin, depending on what his true intentions are. Perhaps being at the High Lord’s side is the safest place she can be. It’s an unknown.

But one thing Azriel does know, as he wishes and wishes for this damn ball to just be over already, is that he’s wracked with guilt.

He can’t help feeling like it’s his fault — that his actions, his behaviour, chased Y/N right into a viper’s den.

That he’ll stop at nothing to get her out of it.

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

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gay-dorito-dust · 15 days

Note

Could I request headcanons of Jason Todd with a reader who is a talented chef and baker?

Jason loves, loves, loves to eat but he loves to eat whatever you make especially.

It’s just so damn good and enticing that he can’t help but want to steal a bite while you were working your magic on some cookie dough in the kitchen.

Jason likes to claim he’s helping you when in actuality he was just being a little shit.

You still remembered the time where you had caught Jason red hand eating something he shouldn’t have, and still have the audacity to look at you with his attempt at puppy dog eyes.

He should be lucky you like him enough to make him whatever he wanted in bulk, seeing as how he had quite the appetite as you’ve once watched him wolf down four homemade burgers, chips and still found room in his stomach to indulge in something sweet.

You couldn’t count how many times you had to swat him away with your spatula when you saw his hand creeping towards a cooling tray of gooey double chocolate chip cookies.

‘Jason!’ You exclaimed. ‘Stop trying to eat the cookie before they’ve had time to cool down!’

‘But sweetheart it’s not my fault that your cookies are so good! They even maintain that gooey chocolate chip goodness that you know I like.’ Jason says as he hugs you from behind, pressing kisses into your shoulder, neck and head.

‘You’re just buttering me up so that I’d give you an early taste.’ You pouted, looking away from him as you feigned hurt. ‘Admit it, you’re only with me for the fact that I can cook and bake your favourite things.’

Jason, feeling a little bad for making you think that, was quick in having you look at him as he apologised. ‘I’m sorry chipmunk, you know I love you beyond your ability to cook food and sweet treats and make it look like an art form. How about I help you cook tonight or let me took for you instead to make up for it?’ He asks as he kept you close to him and planting kisses across your face.

His lips tasted very much like the chocolate chip cookies and after a while you just couldn’t keep up pretending to be mad at him and smile into his lips as you kissed him back before inevitably pulling away. ‘That sounds perfect jay bird but let me cook and you just stand there and look pretty.’ You cheeked as Jason gasped.

‘You only like me because I’m pretty? How shallow of you chipmunk.’ Jason joked and you couldn’t help but kiss his lips once more. ‘I like you because you’ve got a bottomless stomach.’ You then playfully prodded at his tummy and Jason jolted at the touch, which made you laugh as you went back to what you were previously doing before Jason interrupted.

‘Can I at least have a nibble?’ Jason asked after a moment of silence against your neck.

‘No, I think you’ve already had enough nibbles don’t you?’ You asked with a smile as you felt Jason pout.

‘Mean.’ He muttered childishly.

‘Mean is you eating the cookie dough and saying oops after I caught you.’ You replied and Jason stayed silent after that.

Jason hyped up your cooking and baking simultaneously and would praise your natural talent for it to anyone with ears to hear him, which had lead to one or many instances where his friend Roy or his family came over to see what all the hype was about.

Needless to say you’ve gotten more people who were obsessed with your baking/cooking and as for Alfred? You were sharing recipes and what techniques you use when prepping food, the usage of spices and herbs and so on in hopes of enhancing the flavour of the dish.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagines #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood imagines

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alleiwentcrazy · 1 year

Text

Eddie hates it when people don’t answer his calls. He hates it with passion.

It reminds him of too many things. It reminds him of manhunts and abandoned sheds, and no one on the other side of the line. It reminds him of cold, clammy hands, of hunger, of fear. Breaking bones and eldritch horrors he’d thought existed solely in cheap movies, not in real life, until he was brutally made aware of the fact that when people say everything’s possible, everything is possible.

Every time someone doesn’t answer the phone when he calls, panic starts to boil inside his veins and his brain immediately makes at least a dozen painful scenarios for him to dwell on. He knows that technically, they just don’t know that it’s him. But it doesn’t make him worry any less, so everyone’s learned to respect the rule. They just have to pick up. No matter what. Or he’ll freak out, drop everything he’s doing and come unexpectedly to check if everything’s alright.

There hasn’t been a single situation when things were actually bad—people go get groceries, take solid, deep naps, or they’re simply too lazy to pick up sometimes—but he always does that. Always.

Especially if it’s Steve who doesn’t answer. What if he fell? Or someone mugged him? Or he got into a fight? This brain can’t take any more damage. What if he’s in the hospital now, waiting to be anesthetized before surgery, and no one’s called Eddie yet, because to society they’re just some dudes living together?

There are too many options. Eddie doesn’t like taking chances anymore, so he slaps the “I’ll be back in a few” sign on the door, closes the shop and speeds through the town like he has nothing to lose. (And it’s quite stupid, because he has too many things to lose now—but he’s allowed to freak out once in a while.)

When he gets there and sees Steve pacing and gesturing animatedly in front of the window of their tiny but awfully cluttered kitchen, he finds out exactly what it means to have the whole world on your shoulders. Or, rather, to be finally freed from the pressure it creates.

It’s okay. It’s just a stupid phone call. It wasn’t even important, anyway.

Despite that, he takes his helmet off. Won’t hurt to remind Steve of the rule. And maybe kiss his pretty face a little while he’s here.

He doesn’t even have to enter their apartment to know that Steve’s not alone. First off – if Steve’s pacing and rambling, an anxious trait he’s picked up from Robin, wasn’t a hint enough – it’s loud. Their paper walls can barely hold back a normal conversation, let alone something resemblant of a heated discussion. Honestly, Eddie has no idea how their neighbors can stand them sometimes, with his metal, their late-night conversations and non-conversations alike, with the kids visiting so often. Although Steve is optimistic (they have some lovely neighbors, like sweet Gran Fran, but don’t ever let Eddie express his opinions about that old hag from across the hallway, Miss Hermans), he’s still waiting for that complaint to be filed.

Second, he smells coffee. Steve never makes coffee for just himself.

Eddie opens the door gingerly, remembering how easy it is to completely unhinge them by accident, and is about to scream something about getting home, when none other than Dustin Henderson cuts him off with a shriek.

“—because it’s actually pathetic, that’s why! Get a grip, man, just do it!”

“Oh, it’s so easy for you to say, because you’ve never actually tried—”

“And maybe I never will! If you won’t do it, how can I learn how to do it myself? You know that you guys are the closest thing to father figures!”

“Hey, don’t make it about yourself for once, maybe? Some humility?”

Dustin’s quiet for a second, but Eddie knows he’s not about to admit full defeat. “Yes, sorry,” he chokes out, finally. “But you’ve tried so many times, you should know that it doesn’t get any easier on another try. Just do it, it doesn’t matter how.”

“It does, though! To me, it—it does. It matters,” Steve mumbles back, and Eddie can picture his face in perfect detail. It’s Steve’s small voice, which means he’s worried about something, even though his worry doesn’t make any sense in everyone else’s eyes. He’s unsure: his brows are pinched, lips pursed, stare skittering around the room, never focusing on anything. Dustin knows this face too, because his tone gets softer.

“Okay, then walk me through it.”

“What?”

“Walk me through it. You’ll know what you want, how you want it, when and where, and it’ll be easier when you try it next time.”

“Dustin, I really don’t—I’m not sure it can get easier, ever.”

“Because you’re scared.”

Steve sighs deeply before he responds. “Yes. Because I’m scared.”

“It’s been eight years, Steve. What are you scared of?” Dustin’s voice is gentle, curious. He’s not judging, he genuinely wants to know the reasons, and so does Eddie. He leans against the wall, trying to sneak a peek of the kitchen unsuccessfully, and listens. A while passes before Steve speaks again.

“I think—There are so many things I’m afraid of. But the main one… It’s still rejection. Not being enough. Because it’s not like it’s anything formal, right? It’s only a promise, and if it ends up turned down…”

Chair legs scrape the floor and Eddie can hear two soft slaps – hands on shoulders, probably.

“Steve Harrington. Calm down. You know it’s not going to happen—no, don’t argue. I know it, and this alone should be enough. You are an amazing person. You’re great with people, you’re bright, you’re sweet, caring, you have so many talents. I love you, Steve,” the pause that follows is filled with something so heavy there’s a shift in the air. It has a different smell now. A little salty, a little warm. “And he loves you. More than you can imagine, probably. So just pop the question, Steve. And don’t back out with some stupid excuse like this morning.”

“Pop the question,” Steve says, his voice firm, only a little timid. “Yes, I think—I think I can do that.”

Eddie bounces off the wall and takes quiet, slow steps backwards. He can’t hear anything else, even though the conversation continues. He bites his tongue hard enough to make it bleed a little. A coppery taste floods his mouth as he closes the door.

Oh, it’s just so, so stupid. He would have said yes. Each and every time, he would have said yes.

Later that day, when they’re lying in bed together, with the sheets rumpled, their bodies warm and mushy from the nap, with Eddie’s lips on Steve’s and Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair, Eddie remembers the overheard conversation.

Well, no. That’s a lie. Because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.

Every single second of what, at first, seemed to be yet another annoying Monday, has been filled with reverie and anticipation. Dustin’s right – Eddie loves Steve. He loves him enough to risk hell for him, enough to argue with anyone who’s in any way mean to him. Enough to take his hand and say “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m with you”, even though Eddie’s the biggest coward in the whole wide world.

Eddie loves him. Loves his goofy smiles and scrunched happy faces, loves his moles and the uneven mustache he grows out sometimes when he’s bored. Eddie loves how gentle Steve is, how thoughtful and kind-hearted he is. How he helps Gran Fran replant her flowers each month with more enthusiasm than Eddie’s ever shown to anyone. How he talks to children, how much respect he has for those undermined by everyone else.

Eddie loves how he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s proud of Steve, of how much he’s grown, of how he knows how to express what he needs and what he wants now. Eddie’s loved him for ages, maybe even longer than he’s aware of, but every single significant and insignificant change in Steve’s behavior and point of view makes him fall a little bit harder, every time. In any shape, in any form, there’s one constant in Eddie’s life: his love for Steve.

He likes to think that they do that to each other, both of them. That they help each other through inevitable changes, painful regressions and euphoric victories alike. He likes to think that together, they make one, healthy, living being – and apart they’re good, because they’ve grown to be good people thanks to the connections they’ve made overall. He likes this idea of just being good, together and apart. And he loves Steve for giving him the opportunity to be just that.

Eddie wants it to last. Desperately, intensely, madly. He wants it to last and he needs it to keep happening – he knows that, and he knows he has the capacity to do that. To be there, to stay. His hands touch Steve’s thigh, not in the slightest covered by those silly Hawkins Tigers shorts he’s kept, then they touch Steve’s soft, scarred belly, then they touch his chest, where his heart is beating steadily and peacefully, and he keeps kissing him and Steve keeps clingling back to him, and Eddie’s so sure.

He wants this. He wants to experience growing old together, he wants them to get all wrinkly and bald together, he wants the fights over who gets the most comfortable chair in their grandkids’ living room. He wants them to experience the highs and the lows of the family that they already have, and the one they’re going to build someday.

Eddie wants this. He wants Steve. The whole deal; the promised forever. And he doesn’t want to wait another second.

“Steve,” Eddie says, cutting the kiss short so suddenly Steve actually pulls him closer, chasing after the warmth of his lips. “I’m saying yes.”

“Mm. Okay,” he mumbles back, too kiss- and sleep-hazy to catch Eddie’s intention right away. He tries to bump their noses together—which is adorable, really, but Eddie can’t let him hijack and self-sabotage this proposal too.

“No, Steve,” he squeezes Steve’s side until he looks at him properly. “I love you. I’m saying yes.”

In awe, Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through confusion, true bewilderment, a bit of fear and fleeting exhilaration, to finally settle on disbelief.

“How did you—”

Eddie laughs a little at that. “I called and you didn’t pick up.” Steve makes a little oh sound, already looking like a kicked puppy. “But it’s okay, doesn’t matter, not the point,” Eddie jumps in, anticipating an unnecessary apology. “The point is, I love you, and I’m saying yes.”

Steve stares at him for a long second, his eyes wide and earnest. His fingers slide from Eddie’s hair to finally settle on both of his cheeks, cradling them lovingly. Eddie kinda wants to cry.

“You’ll marry me?” Steve asks, incredulous, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper. The way he accentuates the word “marry” gives yet another layer of meaning to such a simple question. You’ll love me? Forever?

“I’ll marry you,” he replies without hesitation. “You’ll marry me?” You’ll love me? With my flaws?

“I’ll marry you,” Steve says back. Then he grins with his eyes glistening in the bedside light, and squishes Eddie’s cheeks so hard it squeezes the unshed tear right from his eye. “We’ll get married!”

Steve giggles happily, and Eddie laughs with him. There’s so much joy inside him—them, the whole room seems to get bigger. “We will,” he adds through a smile, already peppering his fiancé’s face with kisses.

“Oh gosh, I have to call Robin,” Steve manages through his giggles and Eddie loves him so much. “And Dustin!”

So, so much.

#steve harrignton #eddie munson #steddie #dustin henderson #stranger things #st4 fanfic #i've had SUCH a shit and busy month. i'm using them to heal myself lol #i wanted to make them so pathetically in love i accidentally made my eyes fall out of my skull bc of the cheesiness #proposal au #hehe #short and sweet #excuse me if i got too silly. my hand slipped

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axelsagewrites · 3 months

Text

Felix Catton*Period Pains

Pairing: Felix Catton x afab! reader

Word count: 1322

Warnings: periods, period pain, mentions of drinking, pure fluff

Masterlist Here

There were few things worse than waking up at 7am for a lecture, rolling out of bed and seeing the blood stain on the sheets. The brief relief of getting your period was quickly swept away when the first cramp hit. You managed to get through your classes with a few pills and the promise of your hot water bottle in your dorm.

During your lecture you felt your phone buzz and sneaked a glance only to see Felix had messaged the group chat with plans to go out for the night. You weren’t exactly sure how you managed to join his and Farleigh’s drinking gang, but you were always down to have a pint with them at the end of a long day.

But today even just reading the text made you tired. Instead of replying you slipped your phone back into your pocket and tried your best not to fall out your seat and writhe in pain.

You’d seen in the chats they’d planned on meeting at seven. When the time ticked around and your friends were all out downing their first drinks you were laying in bed instead with 2 hot water bottles, a jumbo bar of chocolate. At 7. 15 your phone buzzed again with a text from Felix.

Felix – You running late?

You – sorry I can’t make it. I don’t feel great

You really thought that was that and unpaused mean girls so you could see who had been personally victimised by Regina George. However just as Regina got hit by the bus there was a knock on your door.

You shut your laptop and paused for a second to see if they’d walk away but another knock came, and you were forced to drag yourself out of bed with a loud groan. “What-oh” you paused as you opened the door to a concerned looking Felix, “Hi? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just worried about you. You never miss a night out, so I thought I’d come check on you. I’m sorry I can go if this is weird,” he said, his voice trailing off with a flush growing on his cheeks.

You’d never seen Felix nervous before, but it was an oddly cute sight. “No don’t be sorry. Its sweet really,”

“You don’t look sick,” he said, and it was at that moment you actually remembered how you looked.

Yes, the well-dressed incredibly cute aristocrat was now seeing you in your baggy pyjamas, bare faced, messy haired, with cow slippers on. It didn’t help that he was dressed up in a shirt and everything. “I’m not sick,”

“Then what’s wrong?” You paused, an awkward look accidentally washing over your face. Felix quirked an eyebrow before looking behind you and seeing your snack pile and hot water bottles on the bed, plus the one you still held in your hand. “Oh,” he said, realisation dawning on his face, “Do you need me to go pick you anything up?”

“Um no I’m alright,” you laughed though still feeling slightly awkward about it all, but Felix seemed completely unfazed by it all.

“Okay,” he said, before suddenly walking straight past you and into the room. “What were you doing before I came?”

“Just watching movies,” you said, voice trailing off as you followed him across your own room to where he sat on your bed.

“Oh, movie night!” he grinned, his charm turned back on. He moved to half lay on your bed and put the laptop on his lap, “What are we watching?”

Your eyes scrunched together in confusion as you looked at him, “I thought you were going out with the guys?”

Felix snorted, “Nah mate. They’re boring without you there,” he smiled in his adorable accent that made it even harder for you to wrap your head around this. “You, okay?”

“Yeah just- “you shook your head with a slight smile, “Never mind its nothing,” Felix nodded, seemingly accepting your answer as you moved to sit beside him on the bed.

“I like the outfit by the way. The slippers are a nice touch,” he grinned making you shove him away.

“Shut up,”

Felix laughed as he moved to put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you back to lay beside him as he looked at the movies you had on your list, “10 things I hate about you?” he asked, turning his head to look at you.

You could feel his breath fanning your face making it near impossible not to blush. “Its actually really good. It was inspired by The Taming of the Shrew but its okay if you don’t wanna watch it. Its just some dumb chick flick,” you said, pulling your hot water bottle onto your stomach.

“I trust your judgement don’t worry,” he grinned before starting the movie. “Oh popcorn! May I?” he asked, nodding towards the bag you had at the bottom of the bed. You nodded and quickly grabbed it to pass to him. when you moved to sit back his arm ended up around your waist, “Thanks love,” he smiled as he took the bag and settled in to watch the movie.

It was 1am when pretty woman wrapped up. All your snacks were now long gone and at some point, you had both ended up spooning on the single bed with your laptop on a chair beside the bed. Felix had stolen one of your hot water bottles for his back, stating it was the best invention ever.

At first the feeling of Felix’s arms around you and his breath tickling your ear made your skin red hot however now it was like a laying in a hot bath. “I can’t believe you’d never watched it before,” Felix said as the screen went black.

“I can’t believe you have,” you laughed making him roll his eyes with a dopey grin. “But I’ll admit it’s a good film,”

“What can I say? I have great taste,” he said, gently pulling your hip so you moved to lay on your back with him looking down at you, “I know a pretty woman when I see one,”

“Stop, that’s so cheesy,” you giggled making Felix do the same.

The laughter stopped but there was still a dopey grin on his face, “Its true though. This was fun though. We should do it again sometime,”

“You don’t regret ditching your pals?” you asked.

He shook his head, moving his arm to rest his head on his fist, “I can honestly say this is one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time,”

“Me too,”

A thick silence hung over the room as Felix glanced down at your lips, “Is it bad that I want to kiss you right now?” he whispered, his eyes gazing into yours and putting you in a trance.

“I think it would be worse if you didn’t,” was all you could whisper back.

You felt your heart racing in your chest as his head dipped down, his soft lips pressing gently against yours. the kiss was brief, but all the air was knocked out your lungs as he pulled away, “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages,”

“Then maybe you should do it again,” you said, your hand moving to rest gently on the back of his soft waves.

Felix smiled down at you as his head dipped down for another kiss, “Maybe I will,” he teased.

Nothing happened that night, but you did wake up with Felix still in your bed the next morning, your head resting on his chest. “Morning pet” he murmured as you woke up.

“Morning,”

“You’re cute when you sleep you know,” he said, your skin instantly heating up. His arm tightened across your waist though with a devious grin on his face, “Even cuter when you’re all shy though,” one thing was for sure, Felix and his cuteness would be the death of you.

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adonis-koo · 5 months

Text

wicked • 17

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 8k

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Note: it’s actually difficult to believe it’s been eight months since I’ve updated, went through two jobs, a friend group and a boyfriend who gaslit the absolute fuck out of me and made me experience female hysteria 😍 I wrote this chapter the night he broke up with me so it just has that nice little extra touch of ✨ intensity ✨ enjoy lovies and I will be back hopefully sooner then last time with another update

It felt wrong, packing a small case of clothes while so many things at the castle had yet to play out, and Wheein’s life was hanging in the balance of it.

You had no intentions to trudge your way to the barracks but here you were; early morning where all of the guards were training and the person you were looking for was watching them, hands on his hips as he called out to one of them to tighten their guard.

You hadn’t planned on talking to him today, but leaving without so much as saying a word felt wrong, and perhaps after everything that had happened you were searching for sober reassurance.

“Jungkook.”

Everybody froze at the sound of your voice, you ignored all the eyes on you, after having lived in Penumbra for almost a year, you had somewhere along the way gotten used to all of the eyes that constantly followed you.

The guards exchanged awkward glances with one another, Jungkook looked surprised by your appearance, eyes glancing over you as if you were a hallucination, but after a moment it was evident you weren’t going to disappear upon blinking.

He glanced between you and the guards before he waved them off, “Keep going.”

You couldn’t stand the hopeful look in his eyes, almost a bit bashful as you walked in line with him further away from the barracks, “How can you expect me to leave the castle when Wheein is in a dungeon? And furthermore sending your aunt to try and reconcile with me?”

Jungkook frowned, “Well I doubted you wanted to see me after my drunk display- which truth be told I hardly remember anything I said, and It’s probably for the best that I don’t, Y/n…” He sighed as he stopped, “It was only a suggestion, it crossed my mind about the estate because truthfully I think you would like it there, and it would be safe,” His hands tenderly grabbed your shoulders as your lips curled in anger but you said nothing, “And I think it would be good for you to put all of this out of your head for a few days. I’ll continue to handle things here and if things change with Wheein trust that I’ll be able to take care of it.”

Your expression didn’t change as Jungkook frowned, “I would also like to remind you that she’s been one of my closest friends since I was a child. You’re not the only one who cares for her.”

You begrudgingly looked away from him but your expression softened, a stab of guilt surging through your stomach at the realization that he was very much right, “I know, I’m sorry I just-”

“Don’t be,” Jungkook replied, “You have a mean bite but I can appreciate your loyalty. I can’t undo the past but I want to make things right. I…” Jungkook paused, looking hesitant his eyes darting away from you and then back to you once more.

You offered no words forcing him to sigh, as if it was difficult for him to admit, “I want to be with you Y/n, not as two people amicable due to marriage or friends on uneasy terms…” He bit down on his cheek, unable to hold your steely gaze as his hand hesitantly reached out, tenderly stroking along your jawline, “I want more than that with you, I want all of the fire and all of the rage, I want the pain, the hardships. I want you, all of you, every flaw that makes you, you.”

You hadn’t even realized your eyes had blurred until his thumbs were tenderly pushing your tears away, “Is this a declaration?”

“It’s a promise.” Jungkook’s eyes held such a softness in them filled with something you still felt uncertain to assume, “You told me that you wanted to bear the deepest parts of yourself to me, all of your insecurities, the parts you don’t like about yourself, the parts you may even hate, so I am standing here to tell you to show me, show me all of it, and I will still take you as you are.”

He was saying many overwhelming words to you, but you knew he was dancing around the most important word, you could see it in his eyes, how it lingered on the tip of his tongue.

But something was stopping him from truly confessing it.

Perhaps even after all of these months, it was still too soon.

Evidently so given your circumstances.

“I don’t want you away from me,” Jungkook admitted, a frown slowly forming on his lips, “But if that’s what it takes, I would wait a lifetime if it meant your forgiveness, if it meant a second chance to be with you.”

“Is that why you’re willing to send me away?” You sniffled, “Otherwise you’ll continue to drink and wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“It wasn’t my finest moment,” Jungkook gave a weak smile, “But you can’t deny it got my point across didn’t it?”

Just his smile made something in you crumble, a vast desire to embrace him here and to forgive him, surely you could put this all behind you…?

But a bigger part of you didn’t want to rush this, you didn’t want to be complacent anymore, that was how you got into this situation, how you immediately jumped to Claudin’s offer rather than confide in the person you were married to.

It was such a raw feeling, you could feel it licking at your very soul, trying to tame your desire to throw all caution to the wind once more.

And for a brief moment you could feel Jungkook have the same reaction as you, as if it took every fiber in his being to not beg you to stay, you don’t know if you could stand your ground against him again if he came on as strong as he had last night.

“Just for a few days.” You whispered out as he frowned, giving you an understanding nod.

“You’ll love it there.” His hands finally let go of you, somewhat reluctantly.

And then it was silent for a long moment, tension still lingering in the air and both of you clearly hesitant.

“Then…I’ll see you in a few days.” You mumbled and Jungkook nodded once more. It felt like the ground was trying to engulf your feet as you turned around, feeling oddly empty at your goodbye, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

What was it you had hoped for? A hug…?

Maybe a kiss…?

But then again, it felt as though you were no longer deserving of those things, Jungkook may have done things to hurt you but you had also done things to hurt him, how could you both love one another if you couldn’t trust one another first?

You wished Jungkook had reached out for you, to at least give you some form of affection before leaving, but he also knew this was true, and let you leave with no grief.

It left you feeling empty inside, but this was for the best.

You journeyed over horseback for the day, trying to leave your fretting heart behind as you nervously glanced back at the far away sight of the castle, what if something developed with Wheein?

You felt as though you were betraying her just by leaving, more than anything you were desperate to get her back, perhaps that was why Jungkook was sending you away, as if he sensed your desperation would only heighten the longer this went on.

Dare you say, he feared the worst might happen if you stayed.

Your grip tightened on your reigns, once more trying to put it out of your mind, taking a deep breath you took in the heady scent of the pine tree’s the surrounded you, the Estate was much closer to the mountains then you had anticipated, by midday you had journeyed far enough that snow had already reached the ground.

“Are you nervous?” Yoongi had slowed his horse down to ride next to you, his eyes however still scoured ahead for possible danger.

“What do you mean?” You frowned as you glanced at his back, hearing a branch snap as your eyes darted towards the left of him.

Your faithful companion Fenrir having accidentally broke the branch he had been carrying in his mouth the past hour he had grown fond of, a whine leaving him in disappointment as he picked up the bigger side.

“Journeying away from the castle during these trying times…” Yoongi glanced back at you, a frown of his own, “It can’t be easy leaving with everything that’s happened.”

You didn’t reply for a long moment, Yoongi slowed down to ride beside you as he curiously took in your expression.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally relented, “It is difficult, but…After a long night, I figured this was probably best. It seems like my involvement in things only tends to make them worse. And truthfully there's no telling what lengths I’d go to at this point to get Wheein back.”

“Oh?” Yoongi looked curiosity once more, “I didn’t realize you had such a taste for danger.”

His joke made a smile finally tug on your lips, “Neither did I before coming to Penumbra. It seems this kingdom has a way of bringing out the primitive nature in me. But then again, it seems people have always looked down on me when I think of it.”

“On you?” Yoongi scoffed in amusement, “Dryad Matron of Eunoia? It’s difficult to believe, you’re like a pillar of light to the commonwealth of Penumbra, it used to drive the Prince nuts during your engagement.”

“It did…?” You peered somewhat hesitantly at him.

This made Yoongi grin, “Oh yes, when news of your engagement first broke out it had the people ecstatic, it had him gagging every second he heard good things of you.”

“This is hardly making me feel better…” You winced, though a small part of you was amused to hear this, though you wish you could say the same.

It always seemed to you that people in Penumbra didn’t fully grasp just how much people feared them on the outside world, instead poking fun at the titles they had earned as if it was a little joke.

The whole two years of your engagement are two years you’d rather die then live through again, the anxiety that kept you up at night, the endless amounts of tears you cried, the emptiness it left inside you how no one even tried to comfort you.

Looking back you understood, nobody wanted to feed you lies to comfort you, but at the time, you didn’t understand, it felt cruel.

“Not everyone feels that way about me, evidently from what I saw in the Underside.” You replied, somewhat reminiscing on the horrendous memory of the mock version of you.

“You shouldn’t pay that any mind,” Yoongi scoffed, “The humor is juvenile there, everything it stands for is juvenile, even it’s name; the Underside was a joke, a mockery meant for every royal that has to say it’s name with seriousness, point being- they don’t respect anyone who won’t give them money.”

You only shook your head, “It’s not just that though, there has always been a small part of people and court alike who haven’t liked me, even long before I was engaged to Jungkook. I was known for having a temper,” It made you smile wryly, “-The Bitch of Eunoia, that’s what they ran around calling me behind my back. It was horrendous in Kimhae.”

“Was it now?” Yoongi looked amused by this, “That in some ways does, and doesn’t surprise me.”

“The court ladies in Eunoia often liked to call me that as well. But it was very pronounced by Kimhae court men. When I was younger, I used to wear traditional Eunoian attire when i’d visit. Apparently shoulders and knee’s used to drive them crazy. I had one of the aristocrats boldly ask me if I was an exotic woman of the night, willing to pay for me.”

Yoongi’s jaw had dropped making you laugh as he gestured you on, “What did you say?”

“Something along the lines of calling him a perverted old man whom ought to have his loins cut off for making such a comment to a women- let alone a Princess.” The memory made you smile as you shook your head, “The Bitch of Eunoia…why is it men are allowed to be angry Yoongi? Why is it women are shamed so?”

Yoongi let out a hum, “This is indeed a good question, but perhap it’s because they know a woman's scorn could even bring heaven out of the sky. I’m not all too surprised about Kimhae- but you said Eunoians called you this as well?”

Your smile became saddened, “By many court ladies yes,” You scratched your cheek in thought, “I was always lonely as a child…the war took a toll on me, I was temperamental and childish. But the court ladies as children, also liked to mock me and egg me on. As we grew older they grew closer and I still stayed a distance away. They’d find any reason to pick me apart or give me more work to do. They were practically leaping for joy when the news broke that I was engaged.”

“Why do you think that was though?” Yoongi asked, “That they didn’t like you?”

You shrugged, you had never really thought about it much, rather you preferred to keep the past where it was rather then dwell on it, “I suppose it had a lot to do with the fact that while we were all training to be healers I excelled more at it, it came naturally to me and they ended up putting me in the tents before the others. They all assumed it was from favoritism…Maybe it was,” You pondered on this briefly, “I just remember thinking it wasn’t fair.”

“Fair?”

You didn’t elaborate on the word for a long moment, feeling something akin to guilt bubble in your stomach.

You glanced off into the distance where the mountains towered high, it made you feel so tiny in comparison to its greatness, and briefly you felt awe.

You always admired nature, how vast it was compared to you and all your humanly troubles, you turned to it and it’s kin when you needed comfort and in these moments you could turn to it when you were also troubled with words.

It was difficult to adequately explain to people the rage you had felt since you were a child, anger had always been in your bones, from the moment you were born. Your mother used to tell you, that when she gave birth, you had come out of her womb with a roaring cry.

You craved to be vulnerable, to be soft and tender, to be all the things you were not, and you were many things, just not those.

Many people people heard you, they just never listened, didn’t understand.

“I had a lot of resentment as a child, to everything, the war, my parents, our country. I didn’t want to be a healer, I didn’t want to have to watch people in my care die, I didn’t want to attend the burnings or hear the whales of agony and pain, the cries of mourning, the people who blamed me for not being able to save their loved ones.”

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel haunted by those memories, watching the lifeforce leave someone's body as you tried to stop the bleeding, the maimed limbs and mangled bodies that were beyond your skill or help.

“I didn’t want to be made to go past our lesson times to keep studying, or made to go back in to practice when all the other girls were allowed to play. Or put in a tent over night while they all slept. It wasn’t fair.”You mumbled, perhaps still a lingering tone of resentment.

The past was the past, it couldn’t be changed, you had come to terms with this, but if you stopped and really thought about it, old feelings old eventually begin to resurface, it was why you tried so desperately to just forget about it.

At one time you blamed Penumbra, you hated it’s people for what they did, what they caused.

But then you married Jungkook and you journeyed here yourself, and saw with your own eyes, that these people, were simply people, who were also victims of their own royalty.

You felt the soft grip of a hand on your shoulder, “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” Yoongi held a face of sympathy, “We all felt the same, or…I suppose a mutual feeling on the opposite side of things. Children being forced to enlist into a war we didn’t want to wage with little choice…”

You gently grabbed his hand giving it a small squeeze, a weak smile on your face, “It wasn’t fair for any of us. We’re all a bi-product of our parents' sins. It’s up to us now to break that cycle.”

You had arrived to the estate by nightfall and it was shrouded in tall pine and fir trees, the aroma had you closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, just as Jungkook said, it truly was beautiful.

Snow covered the ground in a few inches, and a chill was left in your bones, but you settled in rather nicely, Yoongi had managed to get a fire going rather quickly and it was quiet in the solitude of the estate.

For once, it was nice to be able to breathe without being watched.

The first two days had went by surprisingly quick, but you had found a natural rhythm in nature, you went on long peaceful walks, kept yourself wrapped in a blanket while sitting on the terrace taking in the crisp cool air.

You had even spent the evening watching the snowfall outside, enchanted at how it came in big fluttering puffy balls, you had heard of snow before, but you had never actually seen it fall from the sky, like a thousand little gifts from the heavens.

It was dull and gray out today, the same as it had been for the last week now, at the estate was unsurprisingly no different.

Today however you had Yoongi set up some haybales in the pit area where guards would typically be trained, it was run down now, old boxes used as storage had been broken down and were hazardously strewn everywhere, long nine inch rusty nails sticking out of wooden pieces at razor sharp jagged angles.

But with Yoongi’s help you both had piled it up safely away and got a decent bit of space ready for training.

“Too stiff-”

“Ah!”

It was a second too late, you had already released the string, sending the arrow flying, it had veered off target as the string slapped your forearm with a sharp snap causing you to drop it.

Fenrir suddenly popped up from the ground where he had been laid out the last half hour, head cocked in concern at the noise that escaped you.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Yoongi groaned, “You can’t hold it with a stiff arm! Look at this!” He got up from his spot as he held up your arm by the wrist, “It looks like somebody gave you a lashing! Jungkook will have my head if it isn’t heal by tomorrow.”

Your lips twisted into a sulky pout, “I am trying!”

“Not hard enough that’s the fifth time within the hour,” Yoongi whistled out as he let you go, Fenrir walking up to you as he sniffed your hand, giving it a lick before nudging it.

You rubbed your forearm, that was undeniably sore and throbbing with pain before placing your hand on Fenrir’s head to give it a nice long rub.

He had grown remarkably big in the last month, almost as big as you now, just a five or six inches shorter, it made you give a sad frown, at how big he was and soon he’d become a monstrous size…

You’d simply have to build a bigger stable you supposed.

“Aim comes naturally but holding a weapon does not,” You sighed as you placed both your hands on Fenrir’s head, now giving him generous rubs and pats that had him giving a toothy puppy grin that made you smile, “I’ve practiced here and there with a bow but with everything going on, I just haven’t made it a priority.”

Yoongi sighed, “Natural ability will only get you so far, discipline if a far greater advantage Princess, thankfully we can start working on this daily, I think it’d be good for you to have a hobby.”

“I have hobbies.” You frowned as crossed your arms.

“Such as…?” Yoongi gestured.

“Well…” You could think of several as a matter of fact, but you had given them all up once you had moved to Penumbra, the thought made you frown in realization, you had been so caught up in all the highs and lows of your new life that it was true.

You had hobbies, you just never participated in any of them.

“I suppose it would do me some good to work on it,” You sighed as you relented, “I still feel a tad guilty though, shouldn’t I be honing my skill in swordsmanship? Jungkook once told me that it’s expected the Crowned Prince and Princess are supposed to be the best at it.”

“Well…” Yoongi stretched the word, “This is true but, I don’t think somebody is going to fault you for not being the best at it. I’d like to think it’s an expectation from those born in Penumbra, not those who marry in. Not only this but if you are inclined to another form of weaponry, then it’s as simple as that.

“As long as you have some form of sword training then it’ll do,” Yoongi shrugged, “What matters is personal protection, some training is better then none, but having a form of training you’re good at is even better.”

“You Penumbrian’s certainly like taking precautions.” You sighed wistfully as you picked up your bow once more.

“The more the better,” Yoongi said, “Guards are great, but what happens when you’re caught without any? Learning to defend yourself is vital.”

You glanced down at your bow, “I understand but…”

“But?” Yoongi asked.

“Well, I suppose a part of me just feels odd,” You replied, “I grew up being taught to save lives, not take them,” You rubbed your neck in uncertainty, “When I took the Dryad’s oath, it was a promise to myself and my ancestors that I would abstain from our carnal nature. That I would never take a life nor would I consume its flesh. Animal or human. Even though the chances of me having to defend myself in such a way are so low, it’s odd to train for it, after taking that oath and living by it my whole life.”

Yoongi let out a small smile, “Then don’t view it as such.”

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head.

“Sword play is considered an art form in Penumbra, you can view a bow in the same light. It’s quite a beautiful thing really, it’s not just aiming and shooting, it’s how you hold it, the type of arrow you use, the weight of your feet. A lot goes into it.”

You thought on this for a while before nodding, “I suppose you are right.”

“Min Yoongi! I’m looking for a Min Yoongi?”

A voice called out that had you both glancing around the courtyard before seeing the courier at the gates glancing around before meeting his gaze.

“Yes?” Yoongi called out, walking up to meet him.

“I have a letter for you sire! It was urgent from the court” The courier dug through his bag before handing it to him, giving a short bow to you and then departing.

You glanced at it anxiously as you exchanged a look with Yoongi, was this about Wheein?

Yoongi opened the letter, reading it before he sighed,

“What, what is it?” You asked, anxiety in your voice.

“It’s not about Wheein,” You let out a breath in relief as Yoongi continued, “But it is a request for help.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Yoongi sighed, “There’s a watchtower just east of here, about an hour away give or take on horseback, apparently they’ve been dealing with a gang of bandits up there. Supposedly they’re going to siege the tower.”

“They can do that?” You asked in surprise.

Yoongi shrugged, “I suppose so, I don’t know what they think I can do about it.”

“Well you said you were an assassin before you became a knight? So surely that counts for something.” You said, setting down your bow on a lonely bale of hay.

Yoongi sighed as he folded the letter back up, “Even so, I won’t just leave you here by yourself.”

You frowned, “It’s only us here, and it’s secluded so I won’t be in any real danger, and you said it was only an hour away. I doubt you’d take long in taking them down.”

“Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Yoongi asked in mild amusement.

“I would never!” You said, “But I’d hate to see something unfortunate happen that could be prevented, you’re far closer then someone is to the castle. It would make the most sense for you to go.”

Yoongi sighed, “Even if I’m over cautious, it doesn’t sit right leaving you here all by yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be alone!” You replied, grinning as you gave Fenrir a solid pat, “Fenrir will defend me! Jungkook and I have been working on commands. Sit!”

Fenrir immediately complied.

“Very fierce.” Yoongi said dryly.

You held up a finger, grabbing a piece of wooden box that was free of any nails off the ground, “Fenrir,” He perked up at his name, “Attack!” You threw it causing his gaze to follow it with a loud snarling howl, his jaws crunching the board in half immediately grabbing the smaller end.

Running back to you before dropping down on his front paws, tail wagging as he tried to get you to chase him.

Yoongi looked a bit more startled at the thick board of wood that had been crushed as he nodded, “Okay, a little more fierce than before…” Yoongi thought about it for a long moment, “I suppose if I left now I would make it back by supper….Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You gave him a small smile, “It’s only a few hours, I think I’ll be able to manage.”

Yoongi still seemed hesitant but he nodded, “I’ll go gather a few things then and be off. The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back.”

“It’s one night,” You smiled, “And then we’ll be back at the castle tomorrow.”

You had waved Yoongi off before you continued on with your day.

Spending another few hours training with your bow you had eventually given up once the string of your bow hit a particularly sensitive spot on your forearm.

The rest of your day had been spent taking walks along the trail’s with Fenrir before eventually settling inside, roaming the halls and exploring empty rooms.

And eventually the afternoon came.

But slowly the sun began to set and a vague feeling of dread followed along with it.

Yoongi…would’ve been back by now, right?

Or perhaps it took him longer to clear out the bandits.

You nodded at this as you stayed curled up in your large chair, Fenrir curled up beneath your feet as he let out a sigh, as if sensing your discomfort and unsatisfied with it.

Continuing to read, time went on and soon the sun had set.

You had managed to get a fire going on your own and had lit the candles in the hall, making the estate feel less consuming then it had before but it didn’t quell your anxiousness as the hour went on later.

Yoongi would certainly be back by now…

You were certain you’d manage the commute back to the castle if you had too but…You wouldn’t feel right just leaving without him, but you also had no way of sending a message to the castle for help without going back yourself.

You felt at a loss for what to do, as you roamed the main hall, pausing at the sound of the gate opening. Opening the doorway you hurried out to the courtyard.

“Yoongi, I’ve been waiting all day, you worried me sick!” You stopped short at the sight ahead of you.

“Not who you were expecting?”

Di Jin’s smug smile was the last thing you saw before the sudden blow to your head caused your vision to go dark.

“You look lost.” Jimin commented as he plopped in a seat right next to his dearest friend, both sat out for breakfast on the terrace.

“Was it a good idea sending her to the Estate?” Jungkook stared down in hard contemplation, his food untouched, “If something happens I won’t be able too…!”

He inhaled sharply as he forced himself to lean back in his chair, but despite the motion his body refused to relax.

You had left two days ago and he felt a void ever since.

Jungkook didn’t realize how much your presence had filled every inch of the castle until you had left, and now, he felt utterly useless, it was one thing for you to be mad at him, it was another for you to be gone.

Jimin looked amused but felt bad for him nonetheless, “Nothing is going to happen to her, the estate is nice and tucked away, the entire court has forgotten about it anyways, it hasn’t been used in years. You did a good thing.”

“Did I?” Jungkook finally slumped.

He had been constantly replaying his last memory of you, the conversation you both had before you left, the memory of you looking up at him for a long moment as if silently yearning for some form of affection.

It left Jungkook’s hands twitching and an unfamiliar ache in his chest, he couldn’t even describe how it felt. And he was honest when he spoke with you the night before, true he didn’t remember much, but what he did remember was straight from his heart, he thought he knew many things.

But after meeting you he found out quickly that he knew nothing at all.

Tomorrow, surely you’d be back tomorrow. You hadn’t given him an exact timeframe, but surely when you said a few days, you had meant no more then three?

“What if I-”

“No.” Jimin cut him off, “The whole point of her going was to get out of the castle and by default away from you. Not only that but what if something happened to Wheein while you were gone?”

Jungkook sunk back in his chair, that was right…He had promised you he would take care of anything that might possibly happen.

He wouldn’t let you down.

“Have you found any evidence yet?” Jungkook lowered his voice, his gaze lingering on the far side of the table where Claudin had been dining with a group of court ladies.

Jimin frowned, “Yes but the problem is getting it open,” He huffed, “I was able to slip into his room last night, it was empty but he has a lock box beneath a hollowed broken floorboard piece, seems he was in a hurry when he left, otherwise it wouldn’t have been left afar.

“Regardless I haven’t been able to crack the lock. Whatever is in there, it has a master’s lock on it. I’ll need at least another dozen picks before I even come close to cracking it.”

Jungkook sighed as he shook his head in disdain, “Of course when we need Yoongi he’s gone.”

Their elder would be able to open it within the hour if he was here.

Jimin frowned as well, “I’ll try again this afternoon.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, “That’s early for you.”

“We’re running out of time Jungkook,” Jimin sighed, sinking back into his chair as well, eyeing Claudin with a certain wryness, “I keep hearing stirrings from the guards about how they’ve narrowed their search, but they’re hellbent on saying it was Wheein.”

“Sire,”

They both paused at the sight of Taehyun, a frown on his face as he glanced between them both, an anxious look as he bowed slightly, “It’s the council…they’ve summoned you. It doesn’t sound good, you should come as well Jimin.”

Jungkook glanced at his friend but said nothing as he stood up, not liking this one bit.

The walk to the throne room was swift and Jungkook wasted no time in arriving, the other council members had just arrived as well.

Clearly he wasn’t the only one uncertain of what was going on, other members had started hushing whispers to one another, all glancing in Jungkook’s direction occasionally as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he glanced at the empty throne the seats on its left occupied by his aunt and uncle whispering to one another.

They both glanced at him once before quickly looking away.

The tension felt suffocating and the longer it lasted the more anxious Jungkook felt, seconds turned into minutes and the whispers began to get louder.

And all within a moment, the doors open and a sweepingly silence took over the room save for the sound of boots against the ground. Dae Seong walked with confience in every step before standing before everyone on the throne.

“It is with confidence I have come to announce something of the utmost importance,” His voice boomed, “The attempted assassination on our Crowned Princess, was indeed committed by her maid Jung Wheein, we have reason enough to believe it was her as all the evidence points as such. Her form of punishment will be burning at the stake, tonight at the height of the moon. I ask you all join me on this divine distribution of punishment,”

Groaning softly your vision was blurry at first, and the first person to appear in your vision was not who you expected.

“Not so quick witted now are you Eunoian Bitch,” Seohyun sneered, her smirking figure beneath you as your vision of her doubled.

Your mind was confused as you only remembered Di Jin being here, your eyes closed briefly only for a sharp pain to spread through your side that you recognized as being kicked in the side by her.

Groaning your eyes opened and her eyes beaded, sneering at you as another voice spoke, “Come along now Seohyun, why don’t you go see if that insufferable knight has managed to come back yet, I will finish our business here.”

She eyed you warily but said no more as she left and soon Di Jin stood in front of you, “You have truly been a pain in my ass since I was enlisted to kill you, I only hope you realize that.”

There was no remorse in his eyes as he pulled the wickedly curved knife from it’s sheath and a sadistic smile curled on his face, “Don’t worry Princess, i’ll make sure you have a slow miserable death.”

Despite your sluggish movements, adrenaline had shot in your veins as you realized you were about to die, you had too much to live for still. You needed to see what would come of Eunoia, you needed to make sure Wheein was okay, that you would keep your promise to Jungkook.

You couldn’t die, and you would fight if it meant living to see it.

Your mind was slowly coming out of it’s haze as Di Jin stepped closer to you, realizing you were in the courtyard near the hay bales, the pile you had cleaned early next to you, your arm reached over to grab one of the planks, three long rusted nails sticking out of it.

You swung it with as much force as you could towards his legs, it made contact, the nail piercing his skin with a wet noise as he cried out in pain, falling back on the ground as he growled out. “You dumb bitch, a pain until the end!”

You attempted to crawl away, heart pounding in your ears as you scurried but he was still too mobile, yanking the plank out of his leg with a growl of pain as he managed to get on top of you, you caught his wrists as he attempted to plunge the knife in your throat, “I’ll enjoy watching the life leave your eyes. I’ll be sure to bring your head back for your little husband to see one last time.”

Your strength was already failing as you winced out, the knife slowly coming closer to your skin as you whimpered out as it pierced the first layer of your flesh.

It was an indescrible pain that had you yelping in pain,

“I’ll make these last few moments the most excruciating and perhaps if you beg me enough, I might just end your pathetic little life girl,” Di Jin grinned leaning in closer, “Maybe if you beg me more i’ll give you a little more than just a long death.”

He pushed the knife a little deeper as blood spilled from your skin making you cry out, his body weighing heavier on yours and his lips suddenly pressing to your ear, “Something tells me you’d prefer that over this.”

Something about his lips pressing against your skin lit something primal inside of you, every sense heightened inside you as your lips parted taking a wide bite into his neck, you could taste it first, the metallic flavor of blood running across your tongue and dripping down your throat and then his skin was next, uncomfortably soft and tender and next was the cartilage, it was rubbery and had hard bits in it, next was the sensation of something warm and wet against your face.

Di Jin could no longer properly speak, his grip suddenly loosened on the knife as you yanked the large chunk of flesh straight from his neck, grabbing the knife as you yanked it away shoving him down as you managed to get on top of him.

The chunk missing from his neck was ghastly, blood pooling on the ground, oozing everywhere and squirting from various places and he was gagging loudly, choking on his own blood.

Anger trembled in your body, it wasn’t enough, even with chunks of flesh missing and blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible it still wasn’t enough, before you could even think you plunged the knife into his neck, eyes blurring as you watched him gurgle, choking on his own blood as the life left his eyes.

Your hands were shaking as you waited for him to jump back to life to kill you, and then you slowly realized your vision was blurred from tears, your heart pounding as you took a shaky breath yanking the knife out of his neck before you let out blood curdling scream slamming it back in his neck again.

Jungkook’s betrayal.

Wheein being taken.

Exiled from your own kingdom.

Being forced to wed.

Made into a healer as a child.

Bone.

Blood.

Ash.

The mourning bells rang in your head and you could vividly taste the metallic on your tongue stronger than ever as the taste of raw flesh lingered in your throat.

Blood splattered upward as you stabbed the spot over again, all of the rage searing in your veins as Di Jin’s form became disfigured, his neck nearly separating his head from his body as you shoved the knife in deeper.

Hearing the wet gurgling noise as you heaved a breath, staring at his cold dead eyes staring back at you, the next scream was not your own, but it came closer within seconds before the door to the estate opened.

Seohyun was heavily bleeding from her left thigh, sporting a large bite as a loud snarl came from inside the door, shakily you stood up, “Fenrir, wait.”

The large wolf paused, and that's when you noticed the large gash on his leg, causing him to limp, rage quelled in your veins again as you limped over, Seohyun looked pale a ghost at the sight of you.

From the moment this woman met you, she had given you nothing but grief, attempted to humiliate you, belittle you, try to win a lost battle, attempt to kill you, and now she had hurt your precious companion.

Even with a mangled body behind you, it still wasn’t enough.

Tripping over her own two feet she fell down as you walked over, “We can talk about this Y/n!” Her eyes were as big as saucers, “Please! I’ll leave Penumbra and- and never come back.”

You felt nothing for her as you stood above her, watching pathetic tears drip down her face for a long moment, finally you knelt down, “If Penumbra has taught me anything Seohyun, It’s that some people do not deserve my forgiveness, nor my kindness.”

Her lips parted rapidly, her throat scratchy, and for the first time, you saw genuine fear in her eyes, “B-but you’re a Eunoian,”

Her words were pointed, bargaining, pleading even- if you listened close enough, “Eunoian’s don’t kill.”

Your lips slowly lifted into a joyless smile as you let out an uneasy laugh, “Well,” Your smile dropped, your hands were still shaky, unbridled rage still taunt in your veins.

The primal urge of need to prove her wrong, prove all of them wrong, that you would never again be looked down upon as weak or underestimated.

Your hand grabbed her neck, causing her to let out a choked sob as you squeezed it tight enough to choke her airway, yanking her nearly nose to nose with you.

“We’re not in Eunoia, are we?” Your nails dug into her neck, not stopping until you felt the blood from her skin oozing, you shoved her back before you stood up, ignoring her blubbering, tears trickling down her face as you walked away, “Fenrir.”

“Please!”

He let out a growl, “Attack.”

Her cries of agony were left of deaf ears as you walked back over to the corpse of Di Jin grabbing the knife from his neck and yanking it out before taking the sheath that went with it, adjusting it on your waist.

Collapsing on the ground away from him you noticed your hands for the first time, shaking, trembling as your vision blurred once more, scarred and covered in blood, just what had you done?

Fenrir’s mouth was covered in blood, but the whine didn’t escape your ears as he tenderly tried to sit down in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You ushered, grief strong in your voice though uncertain of who it was for, yourself, your country, your companion, you reached out for him, gently rubbing your hand down his neck, “But we have a long journey ahead of us Fenrir.”

The bells were ringing and a somber air had taken over, Jungkook had nearly lost his entire wits, his father had banished him from the room, not wanting to hear another word from him about this.

Being told he was too sentimental fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care, it was his friend, it was injustice, it was corrupt. He hated it, he hated that despite being the crowned prince, his son, his father simply didn’t care.

All Jungkook could do was wait for Jimin to unlock this damn box. But it felt as though it was too late, he was banned from so much as leaving his room, guards at his door there to keep him boxed in but this wouldn’t stop him.

pulling the cloak over his head, he opened the window, the bricks were jagged and uneven enough that he could easily climb down, he did it often when he was younger, much to the blindness of his father.

Scaling the wall, Jungkook got down, feet planted firmly on the ground as he kept the hood over his head tight as he made his way to the courtyard. A crowd had gathered, all wanting to witness the supposed assassin.

Nobody paid mind to him with his identity concealed, it would be soon now. If he couldn’t get evidence to get Wheein out, then Jungkook would take matters into his own hand. He didn’t want to have Wheein leave Penumbra, but if this is what it took to keep her safe until her innocence was proven, this is what he would do.

He owed so much of his existence to her, he couldn’t let this happen.

He wasn’t going to let this happen.

The bells stopped as Dae Seong stood up from his throne on the wooden stage they had set up, “We have all gathered here to see the execution of the assassin who tried to kill our crowned princess! Her very own handmaid, this is the killer, our own flesh and blood, and the punishment for a traitorous woman is fitting, burning of the steak!”

Wheein was brought out, her hands tied behind her back, her eyes had dark circles and she was crying as she shook her head, “Please! I would never do that to Penumbra! To Y/n! Please you have to believe me!”

But her cries were in vein as the crowd boo’d her, all shouting vile words her way as they dragged her down to the large wooden steak pyre that had been set up.

Jungkook shifted in his spot as he watched them begin to tie her up.

“Are there any last words you would like to impart to us traitor?” Dae Seong looked at her with pure disgust.

Wheein’s lips quivered as she parted them.

A loud bloodcurdling scream interrupted her before she could speak, the crowd tensed and everyone seemed alert, Jungkook was towards the front, having intended on getting her off there the right moment, but he quickly turned around to see people quickly departing and creating a path.

And the next thing he saw was hardly comprehensible.

You, covered in blood, your face was a horrific sight with it’s dried crimson color covering your mouth all the way down your neck, but what was even more horrifying was what was next to you, Fenrir limping beside you, a corpse held in his mouth.

Women screamed and men gasped in horror as they all moved.

The looks on the royals faces were indescribable, Dae Seong most of all, “What is the meaning of this?”

You stopped in front of the throne, Fenrir as if knowing this was the destination, dropped the body from his jaws, it smacked the ground with a wet echo, the head finally detaching from the body as it rolled towards Dae Seong.

You don’t think you had ever seen an expression quite like what Dae Seong had, and you were sure this would be the only time.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally spoke, your throat raw and scratchy, “That’s your assassin, he tried to kill me again just hours ago.”

Dae Seong’s look of shock slowly twisted into one of rage, “Where is your proof of this!” He stood up from his throne towering over you with a growl, “What does a girl like you have meddling in business you don’t understand and taking the lives of those who were helping!”

“Am I standing in front of you not proof enough?” You snarled back, “From the moment I have come to this kingdom I have been nothing but disrespected, disregarded, used, and seen as nothing more than a tool to further someone’s agenda. And i’m sick of it.”

“Even when it comes to my own life, you stand in front of me questioning it!”

“Why I ought too!-”

“I have it!” A voice cried out, Jimin was running from the side entrance of the courtyard, a notebook in his hand as he panted, his eyes widening when they set on you, ‘Y/n!? Are you okay? I have it, I have proof that Di Jin was the assassin! Here, your majesty.”

Dae Seong snatched it with a certain level of venom as he looked through the book, but slowly as his eyes read through, an unreadable look took over his face.

Exhaustion began to take over, your body beginning to sway.

Dae Seong closed the book with a sense of finality, “Very well,” He aid with gritted teeth, anger still simmering in his eyes, “Perhaps, you do have the grit to survive here princess.”

You didn’t hear his words though, your gaze had went down to the body of Di Jin, and swaying backwards you collapsed into an abyss of darkness, nothing more then multiple people calling your name.

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #prince!jungkook #bts au #Jungkook imagine

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 2 months

Note

hi!! this is the same anon from earlier and i saw you wanted to write for james potter. and i’m so sorry if you’ve done something similar. so maybe after a quidditch match, win or loss, all james wants to do is lie and bed with reader and hug her. but they’re not dating and he ends up confessing too, still tired, he doesn’t even realize he’s admitted his feelings

thank you again for your time:))

-can i be ‘🎀 anon’? lolol

hi lovely 🎀! thanks for your sweet words and adorable requests 😊 i hope you like it!

pairing: James Potter x reader tags: fluffy fluff, some angst, gn reader if you want word count: 1.9k

Cuddles and Confessions

So close. So bloody close. And to bloody Slytherin to top it off? The defeat stung worse than any other James could remember.

As he lumbers back up toward the castle after the match, frustrated and furious, some Slytherin fans jeer at him from across the lawns. It pushes him over an edge, and he turns to — well, he’s not sure to what; berate them? beat them up? — a strong hand grabs his shoulder and turns him back around.

“Easy, mate. They’re idiots but they’re not worth it,” Sirius says easily. Sirius of all people being the voice of reason has James realizing maybe he needs to calm down.

James falling into step with Sirius without a word, the two make their way back up to the castle.

When they get to the common room, it’s packed with mad and sad-looking Gryffindors consoling each other, complaining about bad calls, bad-mouthing the Slytherins: a typical post-match defeat.

“Thank Godric,” Sirius sighs, heading immediately to a small table stacked with firewhisky. He grabs two glasses, but James stops him before he fills the second one.

“No thanks, mate. Don’t really feel like the company,” he says, scanning the room. He admits to himself there is one face that would have made him stay, one person whose company was actually the only thing he wanted right now. But he doesn’t see you. So he stalks off, bounding up the stairs to his currently empty dormitory.

He’s lying on his bed, tossing a ball up and down when he hears a soft knock.

“What?” he yells, the harshness of his voice even surprising him a bit. Surprise shifts to horror when your beautiful, blushing face peeks around the door.

“Hi, Jamie,” you say shyly. “I’m sorry. Sirius said you wanted to be alone. I should’ve listened. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I’ll just —”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he rushes, going over to you and pulling you into his room. “I’m so sorry, love. Please don’t go.”

You smile a bit at this, looking down at your feet before nodding slightly.

“Ugh, I’m a prick. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His voice is soft now, warm and enveloping as you look into his pleading eyes.

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I get it. Rough night, huh?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, smiling for the first time all day. You had a way of bringing that out in him.

“Want a hug?” you offer. He nods immediately, internally cringing for being so uncool in front of you.

“Yes please,” he half laughs.

You step close to him, and even this increased proximity has him reeling. He can’t wait to feel your warmth around him, to smell your hair as he nuzzles into you.

He’d been hoping to win tonight’s match for more reasons than one. He hated Slytherin for starters. He loved winning for seconds. But also, he had been hoping a Gryffindor victory party could be the perfect place to finally tell you how he feels about you. Firewhisky flowing, adrenaline pumping, maybe he’d finally have the courage he was supposed to have as a Gryffindor and tell you the truth.

You bring your arms up around his shoulders, pulling him close to you, bringing one hand to his messy hair and scratching comfortingly. James’s large body immediately melts into yours. He hums into the crook of your neck, and you giggle.

“Thanks for coming to check on me,” he whispers into your shoulder, holding you close.

“Why would I want to be downstairs wallowing with everyone else when I could wallow with you?” you tease, pulling back slightly to be face to face again. He hates how much he just wants to pull you back into him.

“Oh, I’m much better company than those wankers,” he plays along.

“Yes, I’m sure. Seems you’re quite chipper from your greeting.”

He cringes and whispers “sorry” again. You shake your head quickly, wanting him to know you’re only teasing.

The silence stretches a bit too long, neither of you knowing what to say. It’s especially awkward because your hands are still on his shoulders, his on your hips.

“So what were you doing?” you ask, coming up with nothing better.

“Just lying in bed, wallowing,” he confesses.

“Sounds fun,” you chuckle. You break apart from him, the tension becoming too much and head over to his bed, plopping down onto it. He laughs and follows, sitting close next to you. “What do you want to do?” you ask, your voice low. “I came to cheer you up, but I think I’m doing a bang up job so far,” you chuckle, scrunching your nose.

Before thinking about it, James brings his hand up to your face, lightly tracing his finger down your nose for you to relax it.

“You’re not,” he says earnestly. “I’m already better, just having you here.” He thinks he feels your face warm where his hand still caresses it but pushes the idea down, not wanting it to be wishful thinking.

“So what do you want to do?” you ask again gently.

“Honestly?” he asks shyly. Nervous was a weird look on him, usually so cocky.

“Of course,” you giggle in your warmest tones, wanting him to be open with you, relishing in the intimacy you seemed to be building.

“I want to keep lying in bed wallowing.”

You stiffen immediately, chiding yourself for misreading his nerves. He wanted you to leave; that’s why he seemed shy.

James sees — and feels — you tense at his words, and luckily for him, he realizes right away what you’re probably thinking. He continues before he can stop himself, dreading your leaving more than dreading saying something stupid.

“With you,” he adds hastily. He feels himself blush, hates it, but pushes on. “I want to lie in bed and wallow… with you,” he repeats more softly.

“Oh,” is all you can think to respond.

“I mean, just hang out, you know. I just… you just… I just like hanging out with you. And even just your hug made me feel better,” he rambles sweetly.

You smile and pull away from him a bit. Before he can be disappointed, though, you’re pulling him with you as you shuffle further back onto the bed, lying down and bringing him horizontal with you by the shoulder.

You’re lying next to each other, both tense, facing the ceiling, your sides grazing but nothing more. You look over at him, and he looks at you, and you both look away like idiots.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself he literally just told you he wanted to be here with you, clinging to that to give you the courage for what you were about to do. You turn toward him and bring your hand up to his hair. His eyes snap to yours. First they show shock but that quickly melts to adoration. Then they show nothing at all as they close in comforted bliss. You chuckle softly and see the corners of his mouth tug up at the sound.

“Feels nice,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you whisper too. He just nods.

You shuffle closer to him, and he turns his body towards yours. Your arm is cramped now between your two close bodies, so you do the reasonable thing for comfort, you tell yourself, and wrap your arm under his shoulders. His face coming to the crook of your neck, you miss the huge smile that breaks out on it at the contact.

He’s lying on your shoulder now, the rest of his body flush with yours. Your arm is around him, your hand coming up to continue playing with his hair. James brings his arm over you, hugging you close, and you place your arm on top of his.

It crosses James’s mind that friends don’t cuddle. But he stops his internal monologue in time to savour the moment rather than over-analyse it, which he’s bound to do later.

You just lie there in silence for a bit, the tension having eased considerably.

In your warm, comfortable cocoon, you bring your face closer to the top of his head on your shoulder and nuzzle him a bit. He just hums in response.

“You’re comfy,” he says. It sounds muffled, his mouth squished against your shoulder. You laugh, and it shakes him up and down the slightest bit.

James loves the feeling of your vibrating chest just below him. He can’t help himself and tickles you where his hand rests near your ribcage. You laugh louder. You hold down his arm to stop him and playfully shake him off a bit to protect yourself from more tickling. His grip tightens in response, and he’s almost on top of you by the time he’s done adjusting himself.

“No, no, don’t go,” he chuckles. “I’ll stop.”

Your laughter has mostly subsided, but your voice is raspy as you respond, “Promise?” He nods into your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay if you behave.”

He laughs, squeezes you, whispers, “Promise.”

Any tension that had been left has dissipated completely, and you fall into easy chat as you hold each other close. Your hand continues playing with his hair, tugging it when he says something stupid. His arm draped over you occasionally squeezing you more tightly whenever either of you says something nice. You go over the highlights of the match, lamenting the result. Without realizing it, you start talking about any and everything else, and by the time the conversation lulls for the first time, both of you chuckling lightly, James wonder how much time has gone by. Not enough, he thinks to himself, wishing this would go on forever.

The quiet, your hand in his hair, your warmth radiating around his body, it all soothes him into a half slumber. It washes over him how exhausted his body is from the match, how tense it had been from the fury at its result.

“This is nice,” he slurs.

“Mmhmm,” you hum.

“I’m not even mad anymore.” He sounds astounded even in his sleepy tones. You chuckle.

“Good.”

“Mmmm. We’ll prank the Slytherins tomorrow. And I’ll think of another time to tell you how I feel.” Your hand halts its motions. James is still completely relaxed, and you realize he’s pretty much half asleep, not truly realizing what he’s saying.

You don’t want to take advantage of him in this state, but you want to be honest with him too, and he clearly wanted to talk to you about whatever this was.

So, you warmly whisper, “How do you feel, Jamie?”

“I love you,” he mumbles. You’re melting at his words, and you can’t wait till tomorrow to say them back. You shift your weight so you’re more facing James than under him, and this rattles him a bit more awake. His drowsy eyes are heavy initially but then they startle slightly. Before he can worry or regret, you hold his face gently in both your hands, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.

“James…” He just looks deeply into your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, not saying anything. “I love you, too.”

His face shifts as if in slow motion. His eyebrows rise; his lips smile widely; his eyes crinkle.

“You love me?” He sounds equal parts giddy and disbelieving.

“Yeah, I love you, you grump.” He chuckles. “You love me?” you echo.

He takes his time responding. Scanning your features adoringly. Eventually, finally, calmly and assuredly he says again, “I love you,” nodding as he closes the little distance between you.

Your kiss is slightly awkward at first, your lips smiling automatically at his words before realizing they’re being called on to take on new, intoxicating shapes.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fanfic #marauders #marauder x reader #marauders fanfic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #sirius black

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gtgbabie0 · 11 months

Text

A cold heart

{After distancing yourself from Cregan the truth finally comes out}

Hope you enjoy as always lovelies! 💕

CW// reader is pregnant

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Cregan grew up in the North, he became acclimatised to the cold weather as he grew, but yet he’s never felt so cold then he does right now in your shared bedchambers, despite the warmth of the fire. It’s a type of feeling that completely renders him numb. An aching feeling that sits heavy against his chest, it’s almost as if he can’t breathe.

He watches you climb into bed slipping underneath the many furs. His heart freezes as the realisation slowly sets in, he’s in for another night of silence, and like every other night for the past few weeks you’ll sleep as far away as possible, shrugging off his touch.

It's not that you didn't want him to touch you, quite the opposite actually. You just couldn't risk his wandering hands grazing against your tiny bump, you wouldn't let him find out, not that way.

He doesn’t think he can go another night of isolation. So he reaches out to you in hopes you’ll reopen your caged heart to him once again, just as you did all those moons ago when he confessed his feelings to you.

“Love, will you please tell me what’s bothering you? I can’t stand this silence” he says, a gentle hand against your shoulder and he winces when he feels you go rigid under his palm.

He retreats his hand not wanting to be the cause of your discomfort. You don’t look at him, far too afraid of the pain that will stain his face.

It’s not that you don’t want to tell him, in all honesty, you so desperately wanted to share the news, but you’ve heard so my awful stories from other ladies about their husbands seeking pleasure through other means, how they are completely abandoned by them simply because they were ‘undesirable’ it hurt to hear. You couldn’t imagine going through that.

So maybe that’s why you push Cregan away, because if you do it first it’ll hurt less when does inevitably happen.

“Nothing is wrong Cregan, I’m tired,” you say, wrapping your arms around yourself in search of comfort.

He likes to think that he is a calm man, never quick to anger but right now in this moment, anger is quick to warm his heart.

“Do not lie to me” he says, tone firm. You have only ever heard that when some lord made the mistake of insulting you in front of him, you remember thinking how you never wanted to be on the receiving end of that, yet here you are.

You sigh, biting back the tears that sting the back of your throat. “I just want to sleep Cregan” you whisper and he doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers.

You hear him let out a deep breath, then the bed shifts and he’s getting ready. The sudden change in the atmosphere makes you sit up, bringing the furs up with you, protecting yourself from the bitter cold.

“Where are you going?” You ask, watching as he laces up his boots, his eyes flicker to yours for a moment but they don’t linger long.

“I have work to do. Don’t wait up for me” he tells you and before you even have time to try and even think of what to say he’s gone.

You don’t bother stopping the tears that fall so effortlessly from your eyes. A regretful sob broke through your lips as you feel yourself engulfed by unwavering guilt, the type that pinches at your heart leaving bruises in its wake.

You can’t find solace in sleep, not without Cregan beside you. So you wait, and wait a book in your lap but you pay it no mind as your eyes stay fixed on the door.

You questioned whether or not he had already found another woman. Filthy thoughts tainting your mind, and you know it’s silly. Cregan would never break your trust or heart like that, never.

The hours seem to drag, and you contemplate if you should go out and find him yourself to say your sorries and give him a well-earned explanation, but the Maesters told you rest is the best thing for the babe.

Then the heavy wooden door opens, and there he is. “I told you not to wait up,” he says, and you watch him intently as he takes off his furs and leather.

You want to speak but you haven’t the slightest idea of where to even begin, there are so many words that rattle around in your brain but none of them seem good enough.

He looks over at you, and if it weren’t for the anger that still tingles his skin he would’ve felt sorry for the way you seemed to go in on yourself.

“Have I done something? Offended you somehow?— hurt you?” He wonders, wincing at the way his voice trembles, and the sound brings tears to your eyes.

You shake your head, trying to string a sentence together but the only thing that comes out is a pitiful sob. Emotions collide in your chest.

“Then what is it y/n? Why are you treating me as if I’m a stranger?” He asks, sitting at the end of the bed.

You study the scars that litter his chest, the one that travels across his ribcage that you love to you trace with gentle fingers, and you yearn to be held by him once again.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, your hand splayed against your collarbones. You can’t stop the cries that escape you. You shuffle down to where he’s sitting, a careful hand against his shoulder. “I’m sorry Cregan- I can explain” you gasp.

His slightly calloused hand soothes the expanse of your back, he hates seeing you so upset. The painful expression that paints your face, how your eyebrows furrow together. He promised himself that he’d do anything in his power to prevent this.

He wants to be mad, but he can't not when your shoulders shake as you try to stifle your cries behind a shaky hand.

“Love, breathe,” he says, taking your hand in his as he guides you through deep breaths. He’s always been so good at that.

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently and you sigh at the feeling of his beard against your skin.

“Cregan, I-” you look up at him as he urges you to continue, worry laced through his eyes, “I am with child” you whisper, your eyes flickering down to where your hands lay against his lap entwined with his own.

“The ladies have said- told stories of how their bodies change, how they no longer look the same as before- their husbands, they-” you sob, not being able to finish the sentence, a desperate need to get him to understand. And he does, he knows what you’re trying to say, and it hurts him beyond words that you would ever even consider the possibility.

His hands gently cup your tearful face, and he gives you the most endearing look he could muster. “My precious wife” he starts, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You are the light of my life, my heart is yours entirely,” he tells you, a sense of relief washing over him as you fling yourself into his arms.

It was silly of you to doubt his love, especially for you. “I know- I’m sorry,” you tell him, kissing his shoulder.

“How long have you known?” He asks, his hands grasping at your hips.

“I had a suspicion for a while” you confess, bringing his hands to your belly. You let out a breathy giggle at the way his eyes light up with excitement as his hand soothe the expanse of your stomach.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before wiping away the stray tears that fall from your lashes, “A pup of our own eh?” He says, a teasing look flashing through his eyes as he urges you to lay against the pillows.

His hand dips underneath your nightdress grazing along your thigh travelling to rest at the curve of your stomach, your bump was barely there but yet he knows the difference. He smiles at you softly, enjoying the way your breath hitches at his touch.

“I promise I’ll take such good care of you, and our little one” he says, love bleeding into his tone as he peppers your neck with kisses. Your fingers thread through his hair as you urge him closer to you, you had missed him more than you thought.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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inkdrinkerworld · 3 months

Text

Dealer!remus and autistic!reader’s relationship starts off so rocky guys let me tell you!!! Angst to fluff

Remus doesn’t fully get that he can’t just say things- like he’s got to be deliberate and conscious of the words he uses and his tone.

He’s never had to do that before so it’s weird and it’s hard to learn and he slips up sometimes.

One of your biggest arguments happens when he’s frustrated and you’re just trying to help.

You’d seen him so sullen and moody on James’ story so you decided to do for him, what you do for yourself.

You baked.

But then you realized you’re not at the stage where you know his absolute favourite type of cookie so you go a little all out.

You bake chocolate chip biscoff cookies. Chocolate chip toffee cookies, regular chocolate chip and brown butter chocolate chip.

You set them in a cute box and you text Remus that you’re coming to see him. You’re thinking everything’s going to go well, you’re gonna drop the cookies off for him, maybe he’s going to tell you what’s bugging him- maybe not; either way he won’t be alone.

Except you get there and immediately you feel like you’re inconveniencing him.

Try as you might not to take it personally, it’s really hard because he seems particularly peeved at you.

“Why are you here?” His tone is sharp and jagged and it winds you a little.

“I brought you cookies to cheer you up. Saw that you weren’t yourself on James’ story,” you keep your tone even, light- a practiced thing from your days of dealing with people that didn’t quite get you.

“Why would that cheer me up?” At this point everything’s going downhill fast and you try to salvage what little is left of your deflated cheeriness and open up the box to display the array of cookies.

Remus at the same time waves his hand and the box goes pitching across his living room floor and he explodes.

You can’t remember the last time someone had yelled at you like that and honestly, it hurt more coming from Remus who was so normally relaxed and chilled.

You don’t even tell him goodbye, you just clean up all the mess while he’s cursing and yelling and then leave.

What’s twists the bloodied blade in the wound is that he doesn’t even try to stop you or reach out to you for three days.

By which point you’ve already gone mostly nonverbal and you’re in no mood to entertain or fake a personality for the sake of your friends when you do see them.

Remus stops at your house after you ignore three invitations to his place.

“Dove, I know you’re at home. Can you open the door please?” His voice is muffled through the hard wood of the door and you have half a kind to leave it shut- he’d been mean, he’d said things that were very hurtful now that you’ve actually processed what he’s said fully.

You don’t know if you can stand to see him. Then he knocks again, “I want to look at you when I apologise, sweet girl. Please open the door.” And the wholesale remorse in his tone shakes your core and you cave.

He steps inside with a box and three tulips. “I figured I’d have had to do it face to face for it to really mean anything and because I realized I was an absolute prick to you when you just came over to help.”

You don’t even hum. Usually, when he was nice Remus- as you’ve differentiated in your head - you’d be able to look him in the eyes every couple of words, but right now you just look over his shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have yelled or sworn at you like that. It wasn’t cool and I never want to speak to you like that- ever. I was an idiot and I just want to make up for it.”

There’s about a minute where Remus thinks he’s just fucked every single bit of progress you’ve both made with each other and then you let out a big breath.

“You can’t say things that you don’t mean just because you’re upset. What you said really hurt my feelings and I don’t like feeling the way you made me feel when you were that angry. If we continue to be friends you can’t do that because it makes it hard for me to trust you and find what you’re saying believable.”

Your voice is hoarse and crackly from lack of use and Remus feels even worse. “I’ll do better, I swear. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you- it’ll never be, but I am sorry that I did.”

You nod once, succinct and definitive. Remus holds out the box to you, showing a puzzle you’d been eyeing for a while.

“Can we build it together?” He asks softly, an ebb of vulnerability given away as you catch his eyes.

“Okay, but we have to do corners first, then work our way in.” Remus nods, his other hand holding the flowers for you. The tulips are a pristine white.

“The lady at the shop said they’re good for conveying apologies.”

You smile a little, “These ones are also for condolences.” Remus shakes his head,

“Not this time,” he watches you put them in a vase of water. “Also, ‘if we continue to be friends’, thought we were a little closer than friends, sweet girl?”

He relishes in the way you bite your lip to hide your grin as you take the puzzle box from him and set it up on your coffee table.

“Well I wasn’t sure if you wanted to acknowledge it or not.”

Remus says very seriously as he sits opposite you at the coffee table, ducking down so he can catch your eyes as you take out the numbered bags. “I’m always acknowledging it, we’re more than friends dove. When everything’s not so fucked, I’ll take you out and do it with pink and red lilies.”

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin angst #dealer!remus lupin #dealer!remus #tism🤝

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j0eyj0rdis0n · 7 months

Note

Wait hear me out , pls do sm about EJ , like him being a soft dom and some overstimulation with CNC pussy eating and creampie (ik cnc is often written as rough but could you make it more soft , like boyfriend EJ Just not caring about your struggling, instead he just softly pets you and shush's you while he takes advantage of you, lovingly ofc)

ABSOLUTELY!! I always love your requests btw 🖤

SOFT DOM EYELESS JACK

Fandom: Creepypasta

Plot: Jack takes you when he wants, but that doesn’t mean he’s mean about it

Warnings: noncon/dubcon (i honestly can’t really tell so I leave it to you), oral briefly, unprotected sex, creampie

It had been a busy day running around on missions, the last thing you wanted was to get down and dirty with Jack… But when he has his mind made, well… He knows what he wants. And tonight he wanted you. He wasn’t big with words and you knew that. But when you tried to reason him off of you, he wasn’t having it at all.

He worked your pants off, gently pushing you back on his heavily blanketed bed. The only sounds that came from him were soft purrs as he took off your underwear, moving his mask to the side so he could get a taste.

“Jack off! I don’t want this right now…” You groaned, half from annoyance and half from pleasure as his tongue delved its way into you.

Your words still didn’t change his mind and you could see this wasn’t going to go your way. He gently ran his hands down your thighs leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. His warm tongue worked magic on your folds, getting you to whine and push him away just like he liked. He loved knowing you were too weak to get away from him even if you put effort behind it. He loved how small your hands were against his shoulders as you push harder, not making him budge one single inch from your sweet core.

He looked up at you with an evil grin, putting his razor teeth on full display for you. “Oh darling, you can’t get away from me. It’s useless trying. Now let me take care of you.” He left gentle kisses up your thighs, giving small nips here and there to mix a little pleasure with pain.

You don’t stop your futile fight as he pulls off his pants, letting his erect cock spring free. “See dear? This will stretch you out just perfectly! Remember last time?” He mumbled against your thigh before standing up so you could see him in his full glory.

Oh you remembered last time… All 8 inches of it… And the worry was evident on your face. You watched as Jacks cock twitched at your expression.

“Don’t be worried darling, I’ll take good care of you~”

He ran the tip of his throbbing dick against your slit, making sure to collect as much of your slick as he possibly could. After all, he doesn’t want to hurt you too bad. Your nervous whimpers brought out the monster in him that he tried so hard to keep at bay. He would ruin you if you kept up those sweet noises. You’re lucky he didn’t tear you apart right now!

“J-Jack please… I don’t wanna hurt…”

He only shushed you with a smile, slowly entering you with a hiss. You were the closest to heaven he’d ever get to and he was feeling it now. He prayed you wouldn’t bleed, oh god would that drive him absolutely feral. Your scent of arousal was already so strong it made his head dizzy, he didn’t know if he could take the scent of your sweet blood. The mix might actually make him sick.

He watched as small tears rolled down your plump cheeks. How delicious. He starts off slow, nice and soft for you. He does care after all. But as your slick begins to build up, your whines grow louder, your hole squeezes his cock in just the right way, he can’t hold himself back. He hits the spots you didn’t even know could be reached. It made your toes curl as you desperately clung to him, panting over and over again how it’s “too much” or you “couldn’t take it”. He didn’t take a single word you said seriously. In one ear and out the other. You weren’t done until he said so.

Jack let out a low growl as he saw the bulge reappear in your core with each loving thrust.

“I want to eat you up so bad. All to myself. All for me.” He hissed desperately, feeling his orgasm building along with yours. He could always tell by the look in your pretty eyes that your orgasm was dangerously close. The pleading look they gave him, the salty tears that he loved to lick up. You were close, oh so close.

With a few circles around your clit with his precise fingers and a couple deep thrusts you came undone. Your pretty pants filling the room along with the sloppy wet sounds that continued as Jack chased after his orgasm. He loved the feeling of filling you up, knowing that you, his mate, could possibly have his babies. His hot seed filled you up with one final thrust. The demon kissed your neck greedily, pulling out slowly, watching the way your hole throbbed around nothing.

“My darling did so well~” he cooed, cleaning you up slowly but surely, making sure to get every drop that could get your pretty self all sticky. “I’m so proud of you love.” He laid next to you, stroking your hair and kissing your tears away, making sure to lick his lips to taste how sweet you are.

#creepypasta #creepypasta requests #creepypasta smut #eyeless jack creepypasta #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #jack nyras #request #asks open

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bensolosbluesaber · 11 months

Text

Nowhere to Run: Part 2 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Read Part 1 Here

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Miguel helps reader through a panic attack (descriptions based on my own experiences but not necessarily perfectly written down), mentions of isolation and isolation-related trauma, references to child loss, scars

Summary: Living in Nueva York and working with the Spider Society is pretty great... except for Miguel O’Hara, the man who injured you, saved your life, and now refuses to speak to you. Luckily, Peter B. Parker loves interfering in Miguel’s life, so when you’re at your lowest, it’s Miguel who is there to help you through it. ~ 2,200 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending

A/N: This is still dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok as well as the people leaving the comments. There are light spoilers for AtSV (I made up an ending for BtSV since this is set after that).

Two Months Later…

Miguel O’Hara kept his promise. His Spider Society ran all kinds of tests, searching for an explanation for the rapid evolution that provided your the ability to travel the multiverse. Best they could guess, you had been close to the epicenter of your world’s implosion, close enough to absorb some of the energy leaking from what was essentially a black hole devouring the universe.

Another Spider-Woman had given you a more advanced goober - no, gizmo - to keep you from glitching and destabilizing the place they called Nueva York. It was Miguel’s home, she’d explained, and the home base of the Spider Society that kept watch over the multiverse. You’d started volunteering for missions with them, happy to be doing some good. It made you feel like a hero again, like there was a point to all the sacrifices that led you here.

But you hadn't seen Spider-Man 2099 since he dropped you off at a Nueva York hospital and huffed an order to “make sure she gets stitched up, and for god’s sake, get her some food.” That was two months ago.

“I can’t believe you bring a kid here.” You waved to Mayday who was sitting on her dad’s lap and trying to steal his food with her webs. For some reason, Peter had given her a web-shooter… as if toddlers weren’t difficult enough.

“Neither can I, honestly. But she loves these guys. Especially Miguel.” He frowned and took a bite of empanada. “She’s borderline obsessed with Miguel actually. I think it’s because he has such climbable shoulders. It’s good for him to see her too.”

“Meaning?”

“Ah nothing.” Peter waved off your question.

An awkward pause filled the space between you and Peter B. Parker. Just ask him, you told yourself.

“Is Miguel avoiding me?” Blunt. Right to the point.

“Ummmmm…” He drug out the word for far too long, looked to his daughter for help, seemed to remember she couldn’t do more than babble random sounds, and then sighed heavily. “Yes. He feels bad about…” Peter gestured broadly to you. “About a year ago we had a little situation with this kid - I mentored him. Good kid. Smart,” Peter added proudly. “This kid, Miles, made Miguel rethink a lot of things. We started handling anomalies... differently, a bit more gently.”

“He calls this gently?” You touched your scarred shoulder.

“Ummmmm… no.” Peter scooped Mayday out of the air where she was now dangling from the ceiling. “You freaked him out pretty bad. I mean you are a huge anomaly. Dangerous. He sort of, uh, how would those kids say it? Oh, yeah, he ‘went off the deep end.’ You should hear him tell the story.”

Mayday babbled incoherently.

“Yes ma’am, it does all seem a bit romantic when he tells it doesn’t it?” Peter cooed to Mayday then grinned at you.

You blinked once. Twice. Romantic?

Mayday went zipping away. Peter stood and sighed.

“Gotta get this kid, but I’m sending him to see you.” He took off after his daughter who was expertly navigating a minefield of other Spider-People (and animals). “Promise!” Peter tossed over his shoulder.

You seriously doubted Peter B. Parker would be able to convince Miguel to talk to you. And that was just as well because by the time you made it back to your room, it was turning into one of your bad nights. It was illogical. How could you could be fine for and suddenly a panic-stricken nightmare-ridden mess one random night? But then, the human mind is an enigma even to itself, the traumatized mind even more so.

It happened when you walked into your room and found yourself suspended in complete darkness. You followed the same routine every night, but today was different. Blackness surrounded you and closed in. You could see nothing, not even the hand in front of your face, and something tightened in your chest, clamped down on your lungs. For a second, you had control of the thing, were reaching for the light switch. Then you were spiraling.

Your mind was no longer in your safe room in Nueva York surrounded by the Spider Society who had taken you in and protected you and even become your friends. No. It was trapped in the silent and endless darkness of a collapsed universe, utterly alone, smothered in deafening silence. Your breath came in rapid, shallow pants, and you stumbled back until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You sat down on the soft mattress, drew up your knees, wrapped your arms around yourself, bowed your head, and tried to breath through it.

Caught in your panic attack, you didn’t even hear two familiar voices arguing, or see the light from the hallway fall across the room as the door was pushed open, or notice the shadows that loomed in the doorway.

“I know what you’re doing, Peter,” Miguel snarled.

“I’m not doing- why’s the door open?”

Miguel noticed you first. The dim room was the perfect environment for his sensitive eyes to make out your hunched form and trembling shoulders. In an instant, he was kneeling in front of you, an act that confirmed every one of Peter B. Parker’s suspicions. He watched for a moment from the doorway before taking a step back and closing the door with a click. Miguel had this under control. He was sure of it.

A deep voice, gravelly as if it were being drug over stones whispered your name. It wrapped around you, held you tight, and pulled you above the thrashing waves. That crushing feeling in your chest relaxed ever so slightly, and finally, you managed a deep breath. Then a second. It’s okay now. The worst is over.

After the third breath, you looked up and searched the dark room in a search of the voice’s owner.

Two dimly glowing red orbs shone in the darkness. You knew exactly one person with red eyes. Slowly, your own eyes adjusted, and the broad outline of Miguel O’Hara materialized. He wasn’t wearing his usual vibrant suit, just a dark colored sweater. Even kneeling on the ground he was still tall enough to be eye level with you. The two of you stared at each other for a long second before Miguel slowly raised a hand and... and brushed his thumb across your cheek?

What was happening? All you could do was blink stupidly at him, but when you didn't shy away he brought his other hand to your face. He smoothed his thumbs over your cheeks. He was wiping away your tears so gently and with such concern it seemed impossible. His hands were soft, softer than they had any right to be, and those dangerous claws that had done so much damage to you earlier were nowhere to be seen.

“You’re safe. You’re here with me.” Miguel’s voice was so commanding; he was obviously accustomed to giving order, but that actually made it more reassuring. “I’m here.”

I’m here. For some unexplainable reason those words reassured you more than anything. You didn't even think, just did. You slid forward on the bed and buried your face in the broad muscles of Miguel’s shoulder. His sweater was as soft as anything you could have imagined, and his warmth seeped through the fabric. He smelled like fresh laundry and something more woody and musky.

Miguel haltingly wrapped his arms around you, awkward at first, before he pulled you in closer. He held you like that for several long minutes, running his hands across your back and drawing small circles with fingers until your breathing synced with his.

Since coming to this place, the most physical contact you had with anyone was the occasional hug or handshake or Mayday crawling up your arm. Before that it was Miguel holding you in the rain while he sucked his venom - you had confirmed that it was venom - from your body. Before that you had been trapped in a collapsed universe or on the run. Before that... well, being Spider-Woman was a lonely job.

To be held like this was the most comforting experience you had in longer than you cared to remember. You didn’t want to let go. Even when you realized that in this position Miguel was kneeling between your legs you didn’t let go.

Eventually, he shifted with a quiet huff. You pulled back immediately. What were you doing? Miguel definitely didn’t want you all over him. What could you have possibly been thinking, using the man who actively avoided you for comfort?

Miguel stood and stretched. You looked away, suddenly self-conscious.

“Thank you. I’m okay now,” you muttered.

That was an obvious lie. The man tilted his head as he gazed down at you. He knew what this loneliness was like, how it felt to have wallowed in solitude for so long that you forget how to feel anything but alone. His eyes shifted to your shoulder where a tank top did nothing to hide the four long scars he had left in your skin. You tracked his gaze and immediately tried to cover them with your hand.

“I’m okay,” you repeated, hinting that he could go even though part of you - an insane, irrational, needy part of you - wanted him to stay.

Miguel ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair with a sigh before sitting down, uninvited, on your bed. Next to you. He sat down next to you. On your bed.

Miguel O’Hara was handsome. You never denied that, especially now while he was inches from you smelling the way he smelled and radiating much needed warmth. The temptation to lean into him was strong, but not strong enough to override your embarrassment that he, of all the Spider-People, had seen you at your lowest point.

“I thought you were jumping through the Arach- the Spider-Verse with bad intentions. I had no idea you were running… from me.” The explanation came out of nowhere. Miguel turned to look down at you. “You had the potential to cause a lot of damage, and I panicked. I forgot you’re one of us, and I hurt you, and I’m sorry.” Another long pause. “My claws have never poisoned anyone before.”

The apology was genuine, you could hear it in his voice. Some invisible barrier between the two of you shattered then.

“Are you saying you didn’t mean to kill me with your venomous talons, you only meant to seriously maim me with your regular talons?” You could feel a smile growing as you tried joking with him.

Miguel looked back at the bed spread. Should you? Was this a good idea? You threw caution to the wind and leaned over to bump your shoulder against Miguel’s.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ve all made mistakes. Glad I was threatening enough to scare you like that.”

“That’s not what- okay.”

“You can look at them. If you want, I mean.” You nodded to your scarred shoulder.

Slowly, as if afraid to scare you off, Miguel smoothed a finger over the scars. They were deep and jagged, but had healed rather well all things considered. His hand on your neck startled you for a moment before you realized what he was doing. Four tiny scars from his fangs still decorated your skin, and he was tracing his thumb over each one.

Miguel felt you swallow, realized what he was doing, and then froze. A single second stretched into an eternity during which you could confront every thought racing through your head. He’d chased you for months, but he had a good reason. He’d hurt you. Then he saved your life. There was that thing Peter said about Mayday being good for him. And Miguel’s sad eyes and ever-present frown. And how warm he’d felt while he held you. And the ripples of muscle across his entire body.

He’d kept his promise not to send you back. And he was handsome. Handsome and sad. So instead of pulling away and kicking him out and going back to avoiding each other, you leaned into him.

There was nothing awkward about Miguel’s movements this time. He wrapped an arm around you and maneuver you both until you were laying down, curled up against his side, head on his shoulder, his arm around your waist.

“What is going on?” You whispered.

“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Miguel whispered back.

“Okay, but why?”

“Because... because I know how it feels to lose everyone and have no one to hold you.”

You looked up at him then. He was staring at the ceiling, some memory you couldn’t see dancing across his eyes. Peter said Mayday was good for Miguel then refused to answer any more questions. The frown lines. How ferociously he protected the multiverse. Mayday was good for Miguel. Mayday. The kid.

It hit you then, and it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Miguel had lost his family, probably in circumstances not too different from your own. You wanted to know everything about the Spider-Man with the fangs and venom and the saddest eyes you had ever seen. Not now though.

Already, you felt sleep tugging at the edge of your consciousness, a sense of safety and comfort brought on by Miguel’s presence.

“You could stay until I wake up,” you offered drowsily and splayed a hand across his chest. “If you want.”

Miguel ran his fingers lightly over the back of your hand.

“I think I might.”

A/N: There is a teeny tiny potential for an 18+ Part 3. No solid plan yet, but possible. Thanks for all the love on this fic!

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fxrmuladaydreams · 5 months

Text

drunken bets (cs55)

carlos x mclaren social media!reader

summary: carlos makes a bet with a few other drivers, claiming that he can get you, a new (introverted) mclaren employee, to fall for him

notes: what can i say? i love writing driver x mclaren worker apparently 😂 i think it’s because she can be bffs with lando and oscar and that makes me soft. someone had to be the villian/bad influence so i’m sorry drunk pierre/lance. i hope you guys like the “she fell first, he fell harder” trope

next part

The music in the club blasts through the speakers. Drinks are thrown back as warm bodies dance, or more so grind, against each other to the beat.

Carlos feels the buzz from the alcohol coursing through him. He takes drink after drink. He deserves to relax after this race weekend, hangover be damned. He’s approached countless times by girls looking to spend some time with him, all to which he brushes off, choosing to go home alone at the end of the night.

“C’mon man, what’s up?” Lance asks as Carlos sends another breathtaking girl away. “You’re just not in the mood?”

“I don’t think he can do it. I think he needs his “smooth operator” title revoked.” Pierre drunkenly laughs.

Carlos scoffs, pushing Pierre away by his shoulder. “I could get any girl I wanted. Try me.”

Pierre grins and nods. “Alright,” he looks around the club and nods to a blonde at the bar. “How about her?”

Lance shakes his head. “No, that’s too easy. She’s been staring at him all night.”

Pierre points out a few more girls, all of whom have already expressed some kind of interest in the Spanish driver, until an idea pops into his head.

“What about that new McLaren girl?”

Carlos knew who he was talking about almost instantly. You were a newer part of McLaren’s marketing team. While most others from the team could be found creating content with the boys, you tended to keep yourself behind a computer. Lando said you were hired to do things like edit videos or photos, more behind the scenes stuff.

Others had taken an interest in you when you had shown up. A few engineers or pit crew from other teams attempted to get closer with you, all while you turned them down with a quick no. Hell, even Pierre tried to shoot his shot, but you very quickly shut him down.

You tended to stick closer to Lando and Oscar, both boys somehow able to get you to open up to them.

“You mean Y/n? She won’t date anyone.” Lance shrugs.

“Yeah, so I don’t think Mr. Smooth Operator could get her to date him.” Pierre smirks.

“I could.” Carlos is quick to defend. “Easy.”

“Alright then, let’s make this interesting. You get Y/n to have actual romantic feelings for you, and I’ll give you one hundred euros.”

Carlos reaches his hand out for Pierre to shake. “Deal.”

Carlos wakes up with a pounding headache the next morning, the sun streaming in way too bright through his hotel window. He drags himself out of bed and into the shower, attempting to feel a little more like a human before he actually has to go outside and face the world.

He eats a simple breakfast, something that doesn’t make him feel like he’s about to puke his guts all over his plate. Then he finally starts to pack his suitcase for his trip back home.

He checks his phone before pushing it into his pocket. He sees a few message notifications from Pierre and Lance.

From Lance

Insane night last night. I never want to drink again.

From Pierre

I honestly don’t remember much from last night, but I do remember a bet, and I can’t wait to be 100 euros richer

Carlos groans as he remembers the bet he made the previous night. There’s no way they’re going to let this go, they’ll make sure it hangs over his head until the end of time.

A selfish part of him wants to go on with the bet, to prove that even though he’s had some time being single for a while, he’s still a hot ticket item in the dating world. It wouldn’t hurt his image either, he thinks. If he’s seen pursuing and dating someone who isn’t a model it could make him look like he’s matured, like he’s ready to settle down instead of spending his nights in different beds wherever they travel.

From Carlos

I think you mean 100 euros poorer

The next race weekend he makes it a point to hang around the McLaren garage. No one’s surprised to see him there, given his close friendship with Lando, so the striking Ferrari red practically goes unnoticed in the sea of papaya.

He keeps an eye out for you as he sits with Lando, excusing himself when he spots you making your way towards them. You’ve got a set of headphones on over your ears, clearly enthralled by whatever you’ve got playing on the tablet you’re holding.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts walking in your direction, scrolling through whatever social media app he happened to quickly open. He walks until his shoulder bumps into yours, a little too rough, nearly knocking the tablet out of your hands.

Carlos wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you upright, and manages to catch the tablet with his other hand.

“Are you alright?” He asks, flashing you a smile.

You nod and take a step back from him. “I’m okay, are you?”

He swipes a hand through his hair, then holds your tablet out for you to take. “I’m good. It’s Y/n, right?”

“Yeah, I’m at McLaren.” You tilt your head towards the McLaren garage.

“Yeah, I can see that.” He laughs, glancing down at your papaya team kit.

“Right, sorry.” You laugh. “I should probably go, filming and editing to do and what not.”

Carlos gives you a smile and a nod followed by a quick goodbye. He brushes his arm against yours as he walks away. He has to keep himself from looking back at you to see your reaction, but gets a text from Lando later in the day that gives him the satisfaction he was looking for.

From Lando

What did you do to my editor?

The next time Carlos sees you, he recreates your first meeting, bumping into you just so he can wrap his arms around you again.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” He laughs, holding you.

You laugh with him and shake your head. Your hands rest against his chest from attempting to catch yourself. “We really do.”

He smiles as he lets go of you, but keeps himself planted where he’s standing, giving you his undivided attention.

“I saw the recent McLaren video, it was really good. It kind of makes me wish you worked here when I was with McLaren.” He says tilting his head up teasingly.

“It’s mostly my coworkers, I pretty much just make it look good after it’s filmed.” You tell him, you duck your head down to avoid his gaze.

“Still.” He shrugs.

He’s pulled away by Charles after that, who gives you a quick hello before dragging Carlos back to Ferrari’s garage.

You see Carlos a lot more now around McLaren. You chalk it up to his friendship with Lando, but you begin to notice his seeking you out. He shares meals with you now, even if he ends up sitting with you while you’re focus is locked on your laptop.

Carlos is surprised to find that he’s started to genuinely enjoy your company, that he actually looks forward to seeing you every race weekend. He shakes away the feeling that blossoms in his chest whenever he sees you, afraid of becoming too attached.

That all flies out the window when he’s headed back to his hotel one day though. Dark clouds covered the sky, turning it almost black as rain poured down. You could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, likely headed towards the track.

Carlos sees you standing under the awning of McLaren hospitality, looking up at the sky. You’ve got your phone in your hand and a disgruntled look on your face.

He lifts his bright red umbrella up over his head and dashes over to the McLaren building. He puts his umbrella back down once he’s standing next to you, shaking the drops of water off.

“Did you forget an umbrella?” He asks.

You turn away from your phone to look up at him. He’s got a teasing smile on his face. The humidity in the air has made his hair impossibly fluffier, but somehow still picture perfect. He’s bundled up in a Ferrari windbreaker, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah. And I walked here from the hotel today, so I can either try to get a taxi or I can wait until the weather clears up.” Just as you finish explaining your problem thunder booms above you.

Carlos shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I’m not letting you walk out in this.” He gestures to the sky.

“Well the other option is find a taxi.”

“I’ll drive you.” He says it as if it’s an obvious solution. Before you can respond he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him so that you’re both under his umbrella, then starts walking towards the parking lot.

You try to keep up with his pace, occasionally bumping into him, but he makes sure to hold the umbrella over the both of you. He leads you to his car, and holds the umbrella over you as you climb into the passenger side.

You notice how water clings to his hair, drops falling down his coat on his right side, evidence of him prioritizing keeping you dry over himself.

“Carlos, you could get sick, and it’d be my fault.” You scold him.

He shrugs and gives you a smile. “Then you’ll just have to nurse me back to health.”

He parks at the entrance to the hotel McLaren had booked, and walks you into the building. When you expect him to leave, he places a hand on your lower back guiding you to the elevator. He walks you all the way to your door, and leaves you with a “goodnight” and a soft squeeze of your hand.

You get a text from him later that night.

From Carlos

Lando gave me your number. What time should I pick you up tomorrow?

From Y/n

You don’t have to, that’s okay

From Carlos

That’s not an answer cariño

You feel yourself start to smile at the message on your screen and text him what time you usually leave.

He picks you up the next morning, driving you to the track with him. You make conversation about little things like how you slept and what you had for breakfast. He’s quick to run over to your side of the car to open the door for you, and keeps himself close to you as you enter the paddock.

He meets you at the end of the day as well to drive you back to the hotel. He keeps up this new routine each race weekend following. He enjoys your company, and you seem to enjoy his. After a few weekends you could say you have a new chauffeur in the form of a Ferrari driver.

With this new closeness to Carlos comes a wave of media attention you should have expected. Photos are posted over social media of the two of you walking together, you looking up at Carlos with bright eyes, or him looking down at you with his doe eyes.

It’s easy to tell that all of the new attention makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t want to lose your friendship with Carlos so you stick it out. You’re grateful when you see a clip of an interview with Carlos where he’s asked about you, and he sets the record straight.

“There’s nothing going on, we just like to hang out together. We’re just friends.” He smiles.

Although you’re glad he’s put an end to the speculation, you can’t help but feel like your recent hangouts have been only barely platonic. After the nights you’ve claimed are “movie nights” that have turned into falling asleep in each other’s arms, it’s hard to put a platonic label on your relationship.

The first time it happens, it’s you who wakes up first. His chest is warm beneath your head, and his arms lock you against his body. You tilt your head up to look at him. His hair is unkempt, yet still looks effortlessly good. You reach up and brush a few strands away from his face. You watch him for a few minutes, wondering how you were so lucky to be spending your time with someone so beautiful. You rest your head back on his chest and let sleep wash over you again, listening to the soft beats of his heart.

Carlos wakes up not long after you’ve gone back to sleep, lifting an arm to run a hand through his hair. He can feel the little puffs of air from your breathing against his chest, his heart melts when you subconsciously nuzzle your face deeper into him to get more comfortable. You look so sweet, so soft, and a part of him hates himself for it. He let himself accept that stupid bet, and he let himself fall for you. He wishes he’d never let his friends talk him into making that bet, but he also decides he’d never trade the time he’s spent with you for anything.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when you slowly lift yourself up off of him. He misses your warmth as soon as he can’t feel it anymore.

The two of you continue spending your evenings together, wanting nothing more than to keep falling asleep wrapped up in one another.

He finds himself searching for you in the crowd at parties and events, even those he knows you won’t be at, just so he can spend more time with you. He texts you everyday you’re apart to make sure that you’ve eaten and gotten enough sleep.

Carlos can’t bear the thought of being away from you for more than a week between races. He casually mentions that he’s going back to Spain for the small break, and asks if you want to join him.

You laugh and scoff shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious, it could be fun. You could relax a little bit. I could take you on my boat. C’mon.” He persuades you.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time off.”

“You’re not. I want you there, I promise. Please?” He takes your hands in his, swinging them back and forth. He gives you his best puppy dog eyes and bats his eyelashes at you.

“Alright, I’ll go with you.” You sigh, but can’t stop the smile from spreading over your face.

It’s different, sharing a space with Carlos outside of the four-walled hotel rooms you’ve stayed in for work. It feels intimate being with him in his home country. He books a private villa to stay in on the beach.

The trip quickly feels more romantic than friendly, what with him cooking your dinner for you, and your evenings in either the hot tub or curled up together on the couch.

You spend your days with Carlos on his boat. You reading a book you brought with you, and Carlos laying out in the sun to tan.

It’s hard not to stare at him, his tanned toned chest on display, while his swim trunks hang low on his hips. He has just as much trouble keeping his eyes away from you as well, he can’t help but watch you as you scamper around the boat in a different little bikini everyday.

Occasionally he convinces you to hop in the water with him, to which you reluctantly agree. You keep your arms locked around him when you feel something brush against your leg in the water. Carlos keeps a firm hold on your waist as he can’t stop laughing at your distress.

Eventually you get back on his boat and sit side by side on the edge, with your feet dangling in the water. You stare down at the crystal blue sea, looking for any creatures swimming around.

Carlos looks back out to the shore. The smile that’s been plastered on his face for the last few days falls when he sees a figure on the beach. They’re far enough away that he can’t really tell who it is, but close enough that he can see the camera in their hands.

He leans back and grabs a towel, laying it over your shoulders, covering up the skin you had on display. He wraps a protective arm around you and pulls you closer to his chest, in hopes that the photos he knows will be everywhere in a few days won’t be clear enough to reveal you in them.

That night he decides to cook on the boat, which turns out to be a little more chaotic than he’d originally planned. He struggles to keep everything straight, but finds it all worth it in the end when he gets to see you surrounded by the sunset. You look breathtaking, looking out into the sea. The soft breezes wisps your hair away from your face. The sinking sun casts a gold light to wash over you.

He wants to tell you how he feels, but he knows he needs to come clean. Maybe you’ll forgive him, he hopes you will. He needs to put this in the past so that he can love you publicly and wholeheartedly.

You quietly share your meal, then break the silence simultaneously.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

“Carlos-”

“You first.” He nods.

You take a deep breath. “Carlos, I want to thank you for bringing me here, and really for spending all this time with me. I’m glad you bumped into me at the paddock because I’ve gained a new friend from it. You’re one of the best men I know, and I really appreciate you taking care of me.”

“Thank you.” He feels his chest tighten at your words.

“The truth is, I’ve come to care about you a lot more than I thought I would. A few of the other drivers tried to ask me out when I was first hired, but I told them no. I was happy when you didn’t try to make a move on me, and instead wanted to pursue a friendship with me.” You look down at your hands, and fiddle with your fingers. “But if you did try to make a move on me now… I don’t think I’d mind it…” Your last sentence comes out quieter than the others.

“Really?” Carlos asks, a soft smile growing on his face.

You clear your throat. “What were you going to say?”

He can’t tell you now. He can’t poison this perfect moment, after you’ve confessed your feelings to him.

“I was going to say that I feel the same way.”

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #formula one x reader #cs55 x reader

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