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shedobewritingalittle · 3 years

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Golden

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader and Bucky go through different stages of the Reader’s pregnancy.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, giving birth

Two Months

Y/N had been mulling over how she was going to tell him since she found out a week ago. She had thought her anxiousness and worries would have faded away after she saw those two little lines on the test. No, they had only increased ten-fold, only worsening when she went to her doctor and got an official test. Her stomach tossing and turning when the doctor told her that she's been pregnant for eight weeks. Y/N was now stuck with the most important and difficult part of this whole thing-telling Bucky Barnes that she was pregnant with his baby.

How does one tell an over one hundred year old super soldier that they're going to be a father? Getting a tiny Brooklyn Dodgers onesie made? Too cliché. Make some awful pun themed dinner that might include "buns in the oven"? Might go over his head. Hand him the sonogram that she had gotten after the pregnancy test just to be sure? He's from the forties, what the fuck is he going to know about a sonogram?

Y/N was terrified over he was going to react. Bucky was barely getting used to the world, barely getting used to having control of his own mind. And while he had been doing a lot better and he makes sure to take care of himself, Y/N didn't know how he would handle the stress of a baby. Did he even want to be a dad? Y/N didn't even know if she wanted to be a mom, but she know that somehow it felt right. They've never even talked about having children and now-well they were sort of past the point of thinking about having kids.

The whole situation made her want to vomit, and she was pretty sure it wasn't just from the morning sickness.

Y/N eventually landed on telling him over dinner. Nothing too fancy, just the usual place they always go to so that Bucky wouldn't think anything was up. All day long as she sat through meeting after meeting, her date got closer and closer, and that dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach grew with every second. Y/N felt like she was going to vomit by the time she met up with her boyfriend back at their apartment. Luckily, Bucky talks the entire car ride to the restaurant, complaining about something Sam did that day. She uses her training for good, covering up her nervousness with a neutral face.

They made their regular small talk as they sit in the back of the restaurant at their usual table. Y/N orders her usual lemonade while Bucky orders a Coke. They share a basket of bread and Y/N hopes that the carbs soak up the acid that keeps threatening to rise up her throat. Each time she wants to bring up her news, their waitress would come up with refills, an E.T.A on their food, or just to ask how they were doing. And each time, Y/N would glare daggers at her back once she was turned around to walk away.

Then their respective plates of pasta were placed in front of them. Bolognese for Bucky, arrabbiata for Y/N. While usually she immediately dives into her plate, the way her stomach is twisting and turning, she's unable to eat. Y/N pushes her pasta around with her fork as she works up the courage to talk to him. She just didn't know how to say it. All she knew is that she had to say it. Y/N puts down her fork, moving to wipe her now sweaty hands on the cloth napkin on her lap as she looks up at him. Bucky was raising a pasta laden fork up to his mouth as she opened hers.

"I'm pregnant." She finally blurts out. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, barely audible over the noise of the other guests at the restaurant. She was afraid that he couldn't hear her, afraid that she was going to have to say it again. But by the way Bucky's eyes widen, she knew that he had heard her loud and clear. He lowers his fork, mouth opening and shutting.

"I-What? You're-What?" The super soldier asks, looking from her face to her stomach and back to her face. Y/N felt like she was going to be sick to her stomach, the blood draining from her face.

"I-I'm pregnant. I found out last week." Y/N manages to get out, still looking down at her plate. Her eyes started to sting and she tried to blink her eyes rapidly in order to keep her tears at bay. Bucky's silence is deafening and Y/N wishes she could run out of the restaurant, but it's like she's glued to the chair. She wants him to say something-anything, but he is silent. Y/N is about to say something when he holds his hands up, almost in defense.

"Wait. I-I don't want you to be upset. I'm not mad-I just don't know how to put my feelings into words. I'm happy. I'm really happy. I just-You know I'm not good with words." Bucky finally speaks, stumbling over his words. Her eyes widen and she quickly looks up at him.

"I-Really?" Y/N asks, the knot her stomach slowly unraveling. Bucky nods, a small smile appearing on his face. This time the tears that are filling her eyes from happiness.

"I'm not going to pretend that I know anything about babies or raising a child, but I'm sure I can figure it out." Bucky jokes, his metal hand fiddling with his utensils on the table. Y/N feels a million times better, a huge weight being lifted off of her shoulders. He looks up at her again, "I'm happy, Y/N. I am."

"Me too. Me too."

Four Months

As Y/N walked into her apartment, the only thing on her mind was kicking her shoes off, taking off her bra that was digging into her sides, and taking a much deserved nap. Her meeting had ended early and with Rhodey not needing help with anything, she had decided to return to her apartment. Yet, with not even a foot inside of the apartment, she was immediately greeted with an argument.

"No, what I am saying is you're painting wrong." Bucky snaps, which makes Y/N's eyebrow raise. Her boyfriend wasn't in sight, but he certainly was in the apartment somewhere. She sets her things down, walking over to where the arguing is coming from.

"How the hell can I be painting wrong? I'm putting paint on the wall. The wall is getting painted." Sam fires back and Y/N has to force herself to not laugh, covering her mouth. She stands in the doorway of the guest room, taking in the sight in front of her. The floor and furniture was covered in plastic tarp, blue painting tape lining the white molding and outlets. Painting supplies littered the room and standing in the middle of all of it were two idiots, both of them holding paint rollers covered in a light sage green paint.

"I'm sorry-what's going on here?" Y/N questions, motioning to the two of them and the mess in the room. Their heads snapped towards her, nervous smiles spreading across their faces. They looked like two kids that have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Hey doll-uh fuck-surprise." Bucky announces a little defeatedly while Sam gives a one handed jazz hand. Y/N laughs, carefully stepping into the room as the 106 year old man tries to explain, "I-We were going to surprise you by painting the room. Why are you home so early?"

"My meetings ended early and I am extremely surprised. Thank you and thank you too, Sammy." Y/N says sweetly, smiling at the two of them. Bucky lets out a sigh of relief and Sam chuckles. While the men may not see eye to eye all of the time, Sam has been a great help to both of them. The man had some knowledge about babies and children, being the proud uncle to two little boys, and he had been trying his best to put some of Bucky's worries at ease.

"I'm just trying to be a really great uncle." Sam teases, which makes the super soldier roll his eyes. Bucky didn't have any living siblings and Y/N's teammates were the closest thing she had to family so it was going to be Uncle Sam, Uncle Rhodey, Auntie Pepper, Auntie Wanda, and so on and so forth. Their little patchwork support system that they were incredibly grateful for.

"Do you two need any help? I can't because I am pretty sure I'm not supposed to be inhaling paint fumes. But I can give Peter a call, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Y/N offers, grinning from ear to ear. She knows that both men weren't exactly best friends with Peter Parker, both of them having gotten their asses handed to them by a teenager. Y/N didn't have any issues with the kid, hell she talked to him on a weekly basis. He reported to her every Friday, filling Y/N on his week. While it had first started as him telling her what Spider-Man did, it soon turned into a three hour long meeting that included take out while he filled her in the weekly drama and tales of him and his two friends. And every Friday when she would return to the apartment, Sam and Bucky would greet her by calling her traitor.

"Jesus-No, we are okay doll. I think we can manage, right Sam?" Bucky asks, looking at the other man. Sam just nods, holding his paint covered roller a little higher.

"Yeah yeah I think we will be okay. This room will be done in no time."

Seven Months

Y/N watched from her seat at the kitchen island as Bucky moved around the kitchen, attempting to make dinner.

Y/N had been put on bed rest due to the fact that the Super Serum that had affected Bucky's DNA was causing the baby to grow at an accelerated rate. Seeing that this is going to be the first baby born with the serum (that they know of), the doctor wanted Y/N to be cautious.

Bucky, had taken the doctor's words incredibly seriously, going so far as to not even let make any food, like he is doing now.

"Bucky, baby, I can help you, y'know." Y/N tells him as Bucky attempted to follow a fairly simple recipe for marinara sauce. It was already going south pretty fast. He hadn't bought the right type of tomatoes and hadn't chopped nearly enough garlic. She kept herself from micromanaging the whole thing, but it was getting harder and harder to do so.

"Doll, I used to make dinner for me and my sister. I think I can handle this." He replies, setting the knife he was using to chop up the yellow onion aside. He scoops up the onion in his hands, moving to toss it into the big pan on the stove. The onions sizzle as soon as it hits the olive oil covered surface of the pan.

When Y/N had told Bucky she was craving pasta, she had kind of meant that they would just pick something up. Bucky had decided that he would make the meal himself and Y/N, once she saw how excited he was, didn't have the heart to tell him that she had wanted take-out.

It was actually sort of sweet, seeing him trying to hard to make this meal for her. All he wanted to do is take care of her, take care of their baby. She loved cooking for him for the same reason. It was a way to show her love, to show how much she cared about him and he just wanted to do the same.

"Alright, Barnes. I believe in you." Y/N responds, smiling at him. She just watched as he cooked (and occasionally danced to the jazz music that was playing on the record player). It didn't matter if the meal sucked, Bucky was just trying his best to take care of his girlfriend and their child.

But for the record, the meal did suck.

Eight Months

It was a sight, seeing them together.

Bucky held their daughter close to his chest, bouncing her carefully as the light started to filter through the blinds of her hospital room. A smile was stretched across his tired face as he moved from side to side, cooing to her softly. His hair was a mess, his clothes incredibly wrinkled. The morning light surrounded the two like a halo and if Y/N could, she'd take a picture of them. A picture of her family.

Their daughter had been born a month early, which wasn't too surprising considering with how fast she had been growing. Although it was a shock when Y/N's water broke the night before while they were sleeping. Then Y/N had spent most of yesterday in labor, finally giving birth to their sweet baby girl-Rebecca Natalia Barnes, named after Bucky's little sister and Y/N's best friend-in the evening. Bucky had started crying when Y/N had told him that she had wanted to name their daughter after his sister, not thinking that Y/N would have wanted to pay tribute to his long dead sister.

"Look Rebecca, mommy's awake." Bucky says softly, looking over to where Y/N was laying in her bed. The Super Soldier grinned at her, still rocking their child. Y/N smiled at the two of them, shifting on the bed so she can sit up a bit more as her boyfriend walked over. She looks up at the two, her heart swelling with the way Bucky looks holding their daughter.

"Hi baby." Y/N says hoarsely, the bundle of pink shifting and squirming in Bucky's arms. She holds her arms out, silently asking if she can hold Rebecca. Bucky carefully places the newborn into her arms before he pulls the plastic chair closer to the bed, not wanting to be too far from either of them.

"I can't believe she's actually here." Y/N announces softly, taking in every detail of her daughter's face in the early morning light. She had Bucky's blue-gray eyes and his nose, but her hair. It felt weird to see her, felt weird to be holding her. Y/N felt like she was dreaming, but the pain she had gone through the night before-the pain she was still feeling now-had made it real.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Bucky asks, looking at mother and child interacting. Y/N nods, tears filling her eyes as she looks down at her daughter. She presses her lips against Rebecca's forehead, taking in that baby smell that every parenting book seemed to mention. Bucky is still smiling, looking at the two, "My two beautiful girls."

Hours from now, the hospital room would be filled with friends what were more likely family, wanting to share this incredibly special moment with the Y/L/N-Barnes family. Rebecca would be introduced with her aunts and uncles, each one of them getting a chance to hold and introduce themselves to the newborn.

But for now, for now, the three of them were alone. The three of them sat together in this room, all getting used to each other. Nothing else existed outside of this room, nothing else mattered outside of this room. All that mattered was that they were together.

#bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #tfatws

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 3 years

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Soft Pretzel

A request by @ittoehurt in which the reader has been feeling sick lately and finds out they are pregnant with Peter’s kid. But she isn't sure if he would even want to have a kid with her. I put my own little twist on it, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: None really, mostly pure fluff, a little angst

Word count: 1780

You were currently huddled over a toilet throwing your soft pretzel up. Jubilee was with you holding your hair back. “I’m so sorry Jubilee.” You choked out in between your sickness. You laid your head against the toilet bowl, much to her protests.

“No honey it’s okay.” She reassured you by moving your head from the public toilet to lay on her shoulder. You wrapped your arms around your stomach as if willing it to keep down your food.

“You can leave me here, go have fun with Kurt and the gang.” You smiled weakly and she just softly shook her head at you. You guys were supposed to be having a fun day at the carnival, when you suddenly felt sick and rushed off to the bathroom. Peter had wanted to go with you but Jubilee insisted that he couldn't just go into a woman’ bathroom like that.

“I am not leaving you here. You know that.” She brushed your hair away from your face. “I told you not to eat that carnival food, it always makes me sick.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought of even eating anything at the pop up carnival. Especially when she saw the buckets of grease that everything was marinating in. Peter had eaten something from every stand as you guys had walked around together and he was in no mindset to stop soon. But for once he felt his appetite disappear as he waited for you outside of the bathroom. His foot anxiously tapping against the pavement.

Truth be told you knew it wasn’t the pretzel was what had made you so sick. You had woken up on many occasions recently hurling into a toilet, you were always careful to never wake Peter up when you slipped out of bed to spill your guts. It had been a while since your last period as well. Your suspicions were confirmed when you took a pregnancy test a couple days ago. You had driven to the store to buy one after your morning classes. Peter wasn't home in your shared apartment when you took it, and when you saw those two lines appear you knew you were screwed. You had sat in the bathroom for god knows how long crying a mix of tears.

You and Peter had been together for a while now. You had met him in high school in your science class, he was your lab partner. He cracked some dumb chemistry joke and you fell in love with him right then and there. You guys started dating and at homecoming he admitted that he was a mutant, he had been so nervous on how you would react. He loved you so much and he hated the idea of ruining it because he was different. But you could care less, you told him that it didn't change the way you felt about him and when you said you thought his superspeed was really cool he was whipped. You guys had been together a couple years now, you had even taken the next step and moved in together, not wanting to spend the rest of your days making out in his mom’s basement. He had become a member of the x-men and you took classes at the local university. Everything seemed so perfect. And now there was a chance of ruining it all. You and Peter were in your early 20’s you two hadn’t even talked about having children, heck you hadn't even thought about it yourself. You didn't even know if he would want a kid with you, he was so young and this was both of yours first relationship. You felt as if you were going to tie him down to something he never even wanted.

You bit your lip debating on telling Jubilee what had been bugging you for the past few weeks. She saw your brow furrowed and turned to face you. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again.” She got up to leave. “I’ll go get you some water.” You grabbed her hand before she could leave.

“The pretzel isn't what made me sick.” You admitted quietly, curling into yourself even more. She silently urged you to go on, sitting back down and taking your hands in hers.

“I’m pregnant,” You admitted, staring at your lap, not wanting to meet her eyes, in fear that you would see disappointment in them.

The bathroom was eerily quiet until Jubilee let out a happy squeal and tackled you in a hug. You nearly fell over onto the floor.

“Omg (y/n)!!! You and Peter are going to have a kid together!! They’re going to be so cute! Especially if they look like you, I don’t know how they’ll look if they get Peter’s genes.” She rambled happily. You let out a little laugh at her excitement, but your heart was still heavy.

She calmed herself down and her tone turned serious. “Have you told Peter yet?’

You fiddled with your hands. “No I haven’t.”

“How come?’ It wasn’t a judgmental question that Jubilee asked and you could sense the question was more for your benefit than for his.

“I just don't know he would even want a kid with me. We’re both so young and I don’t want to trap him into a relationship he never wanted.” You admitted, tears threatening to form.

“Oh Honey.” Jubilee pulled you into a tight hug. “Peter loves you so much, I just know he would want a kid with you. It might be a shock but he’s talked about spending his life with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes really, that boy is so whipped for you it’s so funny.” She joked as she pulled away. She wiped your tears away gently and helped you off the floor. “You should tell him though, it's only fair.” You nodded your head in agreement and you excited the stall together.

“Can you give me a minute to fix myself? I look like a mess.” You laughed.

“Sure.” Jubilee left you alone to tidy yourself in the mirror. The minute she stepped out of the bathroom Peter bombarded her with questions.

“How is she? Is she okay? Does she wanna go home?”

“Chill out she’s fine.” Jubilee replied, trying her best to hide her smile. She turned to Kurt and the rest of the gang. “Let’s go get a spot to watch the fireworks, (y/n) and Peter will catch up later.”

They left Peter to his thoughts and he began to wonder why she wanted to leave you two all alone. The longer he sat there the more his thoughts drifted to negative ones. You came out a couple minutes later and Peter was immediately by your side. “Hey I missed you, are you okay?” You smiled at him nervously and took his hand in yours. “We need to talk.” Peter felt his heart stop at those words, but squeezed your hand in response.

You led him over to an empty bench that was at some distance from the rest of the crowd. “Peter I-”

Before you could even continue Peter interrupted you. “Are you breaking up with me?” He asked in a small voice.

“What no.” You cupped his face with both your hands. “No, nothing like that I could never break up with you. I love you too much.” You kissed him softly and he returned it. You pulled away running your thumb absentmindedly across his cheek. He moved his hand to cup yours.

“What is it then?” You felt your heart pounding in your chest, drowning out all the noise around you.

You wet your lips before meeting his gaze. “I’m pregnant Peter.” You were met with silence and immediately you took it as a rejection and started to ramble. “It’s yours but don't worry I’m not asking for anything and if you don’t want to have the kid I can raise them on my own. I can go back with my parents and I-”

“You're pregnant?” Peter repeated softly a smile starting to form on his lips. “I’m going to be a dad.” You nodded your head silently. “I’m going to be a dad!” He screamed lunging towards you and picking you up. He spun you around in circles, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

“Peter!” You squealed. He gently set you back down and held your face in his hands.

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? (y/n) I couldn't be happier!” Your face broke out in a smile. “I love you so much, we’re going to be amazing parents!” He took you back in his arms, holding you tight and pressing kisses to the top of your head. You felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulder. “We have to tell the gang!”

Peter wanted to get there as fast as possible but settled for walking when he realized that the sudden speed might upset your stomach. “Peter I’m not that delicate.” You protested.

“Not taking any chances babe! You’re carrying very precious cargo!” He rubbed your stomach slightly as if there was a bump there already. You let out a light laugh and he pulled you even closer. When you met up with the rest of the gang the fireworks had already started. Peter scared everybody by shouting at the top of his lunges that he was going to be a dad. He slapped Scott on the back with a hearty laugh nearly knocking his sunglasses off.

“Watch it, Maximoff.” Jean stifled a laugh next to him. “Good luck spending the rest of your life with that idiot.”

You laughed and and Peter whined. “Babeeee.”

Jubilee pulled you into a side hug, watching as Peter told random strangers that he was going to be a Dad, they just awkwardly congratulated him and he smiled proudly. “I see he took the news well.”

“What!” Peter exclaimed as he sped back to your side. “You told Jubilee before me!” He proclaimed with mock hurt. You just rolled our eyes and nudged him playfully.

“Yeah cause she likes me better!” Jubilee joked pulling you closer to her.

Peter yanked you back to his side. “Not in a million years Lee.” He kissed the top of your head. You guys settled onto the grass with the rest of the group, you leaned back into Peter’s chest. He rested his head in the cook of your neck inhaling your scent. “Thank you.” He whispered.

You closed your eyes at his soft touch. “For what?”

You felt him smile and hug you closer, hands resting gently on your stomach. “For giving me everything I could have ever wanted.”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver #quicksilver xmen #xmen x reader #quicksilver xmen x reader #xmen fanfiction #xmen #fanfic #peter maximoff fanfiction #request #oneshot #headcanon #peter maximoff headcanon

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cloudy-minded-idiot · 3 years

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closing time - part 2

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader

warning: none that I can think of

word count: 2,700-ish

a/n: just wanted to thank everyone who took the time to comment, reblog or like the first part 💕 your support truly means a lot to me. everyone who has asked to be tagged or requested a second part has been @-ed below.

previous part

"Who are you talking to?”

The question came seemingly out of nowhere, making you jump so hard you almost dropped the phone in your hand.

“Jesus, woman!” you swore, putting your free hand over your rapidly beating heart, “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Natasha was fresh out of the shower, her wet hair twisted in a towel. The redhead was wearing an oversized grey hoodie and some sweatpants that you had found somewhere deep inside your closet. She looked adorable, you had to admit, like a kid wearing their parent's clothes. The sight strangely made your stomach flip.

“Force of habit, I'm afraid,” she smiled apologetically, carefully sitting down on the couch. Her face was finally clean, no more mud, blood, or grime sticking to her features. Except for the blue-ish bruise on her left cheekbone, and a small cut near her eyebrow, her skin was unfairly flawless.

“So, are you gonna answer my question?”, she plopped her feet up on your coffee table, shaking you out of your thoughts. With a shrug, you pocketed your phone, hoping she hadn’t noticed your staring.

“Just work. Called in sick until Tuesday. After all, I can’t let you roam around my apartment unsupervised. For one, you’re injured, for another, you’re still a stranger.”

On your way to the couch, you picked up the first aid kit from your kitchen counter.

“A stranger?” she repeated with mock hurt, putting a hand over her heart, “ You wound me. After everything we’ve been through, I really thought we were getting closer.”

Shaking your heart amusedly, you sat down next to her. Balancing the first aid kit on your thigh, you pulled on a pair of rubber gloves with a snap. You could feel her gaze on you, watching your every move. Nervously, you cleared your throat, a little uncomfortable with her attention.

“Let’s have a look,” you nod to her and she complied with your unspoken request, pulling the hoodie up just enough for you to access her injury. Gingerly, you removed the bandage, dumping it into the trash can and inspecting the stitched wound, quietly humming in concentration as you did.

“I think you strained it a bit with your morning escapades today but I don’t think you pulled any of the stitches,” you concluded after a moment. Your voice sounded more sure than you actually felt about your assessment, considering all your expertise came from the internet. But, apparently, your word was good enough for your patient.

“See, I told you. You worried for nothing,” she slapped your shoulder jestingly and you rolled your eyes, taking out a new bandage to re-wrap the wound.

“I wouldn’t say for nothing. After all, you have been stabbed and only received medical attention from an amateur,” you pointed out, giving her a chastising look when she tried to dismiss your troubles with a languid hand motion.

“I think you should be concerned by the fact that I seem to be more worried about your health than you are," you continued, undeterred, "How's the pain, by the way?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, waving away your concerns, “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I'll be fine”, Natasha insisted with emphasis, “Besides, I don’t like taking painkillers. Dulls the senses.”

If you weren’t as tired as you were, you might have argued a little more. Instead, all you did was sigh and give a curt nod to signal your understanding. You didn’t really get her at all. If she was just going to hang around your apartment for the next couple of days, then who cares if her senses are dulled? It wasn't like anyone knew she would be here.

You finished wrapping her wound, leaning back to observe it from afar. You were admittedly getting better at bandaging. So that was a plus point.

“Alright, that’s it,” you nodded pleased, starting to clean up. Natasha inspected your work as well, pulling her hoodie back down once she was satisfied.

“You’re surprisingly good. Have you ever done this before?”

Chuckling, you shook your head, closing the little dark green box on your lap.

“You mean have I ever stitched someone together before and let them take refuge in my home? No. Can’t say I have.”

She smiled at your sarcastic tone, rolling her eyes playfully, before smirking mischievously.

“Ah, I'm your first. I'm honoured.”

You flushed at the implication of her statement, trying to hide your embarrassment by fiddling with the first aid kit. Don’t overthink it. You do not want these kinds of thoughts right now. Not about her. Sure, she is beautiful and it is kind of fun to banter with her and she has probably the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen and her lips…

“So, what’s your verdict doc?” she nudged you back to reality, amusement in her voice. You cleared your throat, shaking your head to clear your previous thoughts away.

“You need rest. Lots of it. No putting unnecessary strain on your injury,” you explained distractedly, pulling the gloves from your hands and letting them drop into the trash can, “So, I forbid you from leaving the couch for anything other than using the bathroom. Like I said before, if you need something, ask me.”

“You forbid me? My, my, how bossy of you. Then again, your home, your rules.”

“I just don’t want you to make anything worse,” you replied earnestly, ignoring her teasing tone.

Natasha grinned, eyes sparkling, leaning dangerously close to you.

“It's cute how concerned you are,” she almost whispered, her breath ghosting over your face. You felt your heart speed up.

“Don’t tell me you care about this lil old stranger here.”

Needing to remove yourself from this situation, you practically jumped off the couch, trying to play your reaction off with an annoyed eye-roll and a huff.

“Don’t be so full of yourself. I just don’t want you to start bleeding again. Might end up ruining my carpet,” you explained, the words leaving your mouth so quickly, it was a wonder you didn’t stumble over them. You resolved to change the topic entirely.

“Want anything to eat? Drink?”

Without sparing a second, you walked over to the kitchen, idly opening the fridge and looking through it just to keep your mind busy and eyes away from her. The frigid air definitely helped cool down your heated face as well. So that was a nice side effect.

“Vodka on the rocks would be nice,” she quipped. You shook your head, well-aware that she couldn’t see you, hidden away behind the fridge door. Apparently, your silence was answer enough though, because only a few seconds later, she let out a concessive sigh.

“Fine. Water will do.”

Preparing her a glass, you carried it over to the living room area, nudging her foot with your leg to get her to take them off your coffee table. She complied begrudgingly, accepting the glass and draining most of it in one gulp. It was only when you noticed a single droplet running down her chin that you realized you were staring. Again. Very obviously. Immediately you averted your gaze, opting to eyeball the wall in the far distance.

“So, what are you gonna do today? Anything planned?”

What a terrible question.

“Not really,” you saw her shrug out of the corner of your eye, “But I do need to use your radio again. Would you mind grabbing it for me?”

“Uh, sure.”

You spotted the device on the tv cabinet. Handing it over, you made certain that it was plugged in for her, watching the red digits on the small display light up. For a moment you remained in place, observing her as she fumble with it, her forehead creased in concentration. Feeling awkward just standing around, you approached, anxiously rubbing at the back of your neck in search for something to say.

“Can I ask, what exactly is it that you do with it?”

She seemed to mull your question over, before patting the couch cushion next to her.

“Sit. I’ll show you.”

You do, making sure to keep a decent amount of distance between you while still being able to see what she was doing. Natasha showed you how to switch to a shortwave radio station and how to input messages to be transmitted. The static sound filled your apartment again, changing to a couple of high-pitched sounds once in a while when she enters a new code. It was fascinating, something that seemed entirely taken out of an old spy movie.

“So, you’re sending encoded messages to someone?” you summarised her explanation, intrigued, “Do you use morse code for the encryption?”

“Morse code. That’s cute,” Natasha let out a short laugh, shaking her head in amusement. The towel her hair was wrapped somehow stayed in place. She looked up at you with a cocky smile, her eyes meeting yours and taking your breath away for a moment.

“If I wanted all the other agencies in the world to know my location, then yes, I'd use morse code. No, this is my very own code. Only a handful of people know it.”

“Impressive. So this means you’re a spy, right?”, you asked as she continued working on her transmission, “Because this is textbook spy behaviour.”

Natasha didn’t reply. Not that you had expected her to. Yep, definitely a spy. That would also explain her injury and need to lay low for a few days.

“So, do all secret spies have their own encryption codes, or are you just special?”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that I’m very special,” she quipped seriously, not looking up from her task, “Once I'm recovered, I’ll gladly show you my special set of skills up close.”

You blinked, perplexed, cocking your head to the side.

“I’m not sure whether you’re trying to threaten or flirt with me,” you remarked, a frown settling on your face. The redhead turned the radio off, putting it down next to her and looking up at you with a big grin.

“And isn’t that just part of the fun?”

--------

Natasha, it turned out, had quite the talent for coming up with pick-up lines that could double as thinly veiled threats. You did your best not to show how flustered she made you, either changing the subject, feigning ignorance, or trying to come across as exasperated or annoyed instead. To be honest, you did rather enjoy her flirtatious remarks. After all, it wasn’t every day that such a beautiful and quick-witted woman hit on you, even if it was just in jest. She also had something rather mysterious about her that intrigued you. It was probably a spy thing.

She, in turn, seemed to grow more comfortable around you as time passed. Daring to express her emotions more openly without always relying on sarcasm or flirtation. The memory of making her laugh out loud for the first time - a real laugh that had her throwing her head back and crinkling her eyes - was practically ingrained into your mind. Even now, just thinking about it, brought a fond smile to your face and made your heart flutter.

You weren’t stupid. At least you liked to think you weren’t. No, you were fully aware of the fact that you were developing feelings for the secretive redhead. And you knew that it was a terrible idea, that you should fight it. After all, she would be leaving soon and you weren't likely to see her again. But resisting her charms was a lot harder than you had anticipated. Especially, when you had to share your small apartment.

So, instead, you decided to treasure whatever short time you did have with her. You cooked her your favourite dish, blushing when she complimented your skills in the kitchen. The two of you watched several movies huddled together on your couch. You had seen them all before but enjoyed watching her point out all the unrealistic plot points and inconsistencies, only to end up grinning like an idiot at the cheesy happy ending. You also came up with several bad and dorky jokes just to hear her laugh out loud again. It felt nice. Almost domestic and natural.

But in the end, Tuesday came sooner than you had hoped. All night long, you had laid tossing and turning in your bed, dreading what would happen.

The sun was not yet out when you heard the now-familiar sound of radio static coming from your living room. Suddenly very awake, you practically shot out of your bed and hurried out the door.

Natasha was already dressed to leave, hair pulled back into a braid. A few locks had escaped and framed her lovely face. She looked up when she heard you enter, putting the radio aside.

“Morning,” she greeted with a small smile, “You’re up uncharacteristically early. Did I wake you up?"

“It’s fine. Didn't sleep well anyways,” you assured her, brushing a hand through your hair. A moment of silence.

“So. It’s Tuesday, huh?”

“Observant as always. My colleague will be picking me up shortly if that is what you’re asking.”

Dread filled you. While you knew this moment was coming, you suddenly found yourself wholly unprepared for it.

“Then the air is clear again, right? Successfully laid low?”, you asked, fumbling with your hands as you rambled on, “That’s good. Great.”

The redhead quirked an eyebrow at you, shouldering a small duffel bag as she approached you.

“It is indeed great. Means I won’t be targeted the moment I step outside your door,” she commented casually. As if possibly being assassinated wasn’t a big deal.

“Right. Good,” you nodded in agreement, unsure what else to say to that. She stopped directly in front of you, regarding you curiously. Your pulse spiked.

“Need me to check out your wound again? One final examination before you’re dismissed from the hospital?” you offered. Natasha shook her head.

“I’m fine. You did a great job, doc,” she flashed you a big smile, “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me these past few days.”

Face growing warm, you make a throw-away motion with your arm.

“No need to thank me. I really enjoyed spending time with you,” you tell her genuinely, meeting her green gaze. Her expression softened. she took another step closer. Your breath hitched at her close proximity.

“Me, too. But I’d still like to express my deep gratitude."

Something mischievous flashed in her eyes. Before you could ask her what she meant, she had already cupped your face and pulled your face to hers.

The moment your lips met, every other thought you had vanished from your mind. Electricity shot through your veins, your skin tingled where she touched you. After a moment you caught yourself and returned the kiss, pressing back against her, your hands carefully settling on her waist.

For a while, nothing else seemed to matter. Breathing, thinking, everything appeared rather trivial in comparison to this feeling of her lips on yours. It wasn't until a loud knock sounded on the door, that you broke apart. You were both breathing hard. Your eyes met and the smile she gave you had to be the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

“My colleague’s here", she whispered, somehow breaking through the fog in your mind. Right. She was about to leave. You swallow against the lump that formed in your throat. Still unable to find words, you just nod, taking a small step back. You tried to keep the sadness off your face and most likely failed miserably.

To your surprise, she laughed, shaking her head.

“Don’t look so glum. This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“It doesn’t?” you asked hopefully. Natasha gave you a look full of adoration, pulling a small slip of paper from her pocket.

“I'll probably be busy for a few days, but I have nothing planned next week,” she pressed the paper into your palm. Unfolding it, you saw a phone number scribbled on it in blue ink. A big grin overtook your face as she continued.

“I'm sure we can work something out. I'd love to take you out.”

You meet her eyes, butterflies going wild in your stomach.

“Take me out as in on a date, or…?” you asked jokingly.

Wordlessly, she pressed a small kiss to your cheek.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

___________________________________________

taglist: @blackxwidowsxwife @fishlikestuff @madamevirgo @chickenhavewisdom

#natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fanfiction #black widow x reader

357 notes · View notes

prfctethereal · 3 years

Text

no body, no crime. | marauders

pairing: platonic!james potter x reader, platonic!sirius black x reader, platonic!remus lupin x reader, platonic!peter pettigrew x reader

wordcount: 3,608

warnings: this whole thing is about murder, blood, swearing, alcohol use

a/n: so i accidentally listen to no body, no crime all afternoon and felt inspired to write this. it was supposed to be shorter but oh well. let me know if i should write a part two - kennedy

***

I need your help. Come quick.

I scrawled the message onto three different spare pieces of parchment and hurried into the kitchen, opening the nearest window. The rush of fresh air could’ve been clarity for me but what was done was done. There was no changing the past, but changing the future was still on my plate.

Waving my arm in the night sky, I signalled my owl, Stefan, calling him over to the window. He hooted excitedly, eager to be put to use in the cold winter season. As he landed on my arm, a dusting of snow ruffled from his feather, onto my blood splattered torso, bouncing onto the kitchen counter. Looking down at my appearance, the severity of the situation settled in. There was a dead body in my living room and I had no idea what to do.

“Stefan, I need you to send these letters to the marauders. Go to James and Lily’s house first; it’s the closest, but whatever you do, don’t let Lily see it. Then, go to Remus’ house. Sirius is staying with him as well. They can both see the letter. Lastly, go to Peter’s house and make sure he comes. Keep pecking him on his hand if he chickens out. Can you do that for me?”

Stefan hooted loudly, which I instantly shushed, taking note of the time of day. I didn’t want to wake any of the neighbours. Once Stefan understood the instructions, I let him fly away. A comfortable silence was left in my house as I paced through the kitchen, not even thinking about what to do next.

“I need a drink.” I hummed softly for myself, swinging open the cupboard and taking out a bottle of red wine. After pouring a glass, I waited, sipping to calm my nerves.

It wasn’t long before I heard the distinguished snap of someone apparating, followed by a small squeal. James had arrived first, right into the crime scene. He called out my name, which I responded to, and he trudged into the kitchen, unable to make a coherent sentence.

What he saw was one of his best friends sitting on the ground, blood staining their shirt, a glass of wine firm in their grips, eyes glassy and dazed over.

“Are you going to explain this or…?” James trailed off, realising that he wasn’t going to get an answer quite yet.

“Wait until the others get here.” I responded monotonously, finishing the glass of wine with a single gulp. Mindlessly, I reached upwards to the kitchen counter, patting around for the bottle, before it was snatched away by none other than James Potter himself.

“Darling, if we’re going to be covering up a murder tonight, I think it would be best for you to be as sober as possible.” He cheeked, a cocky smirk on his face. It was soon wiped away by the sound of someone else crashing into the living room, followed by a high pitch yelp; a similar reaction to James’.

“[Y/N]? Did you kill someone?” It was the distinct voice of Peter Pettigrew who followed the quiet murmurings of James and I into the kitchen. When he walked through the door, he seemed to be nursing his right hand, which looked like it had been pecked over and over by an owl, most likely Stefan.

“Take a guess.” I muttered, unusually grumping as I desperately wanted to refill my glass of wine and drown out the sorrows and voices in my head. Oh no, I didn’t feel guilty for killing the man in the living room. I felt guilty for not even having any sort of conscience.

Peter joined us, sitting down on the other side of me. His eyes lit up as he noticed the bottle of wine in James’ hand, muttering a quick “thank you” before taking a swig of the burning liquid.

“The other two should be here by now.” I deadpanned. James and Peter hummed in agreement but it wasn’t long before the rest of them arrived. A knock at the front door signified that Remus and Sirius had arrived, as Remus always felt it was much more polite to apparate outside of someone’s home, instead of directly inside it.

Begrudgingly, I went to stand up, before toppling over into Peter’s lap. I hadn’t realised that the alcohol had already affected me so much, my fist clenching to my temples as I moaned in frustration. It was common knowledge that I was a lightweight. I should’ve thought of that before I let my gluttony become me.

“How about I get the door?” James suggested, standing up instead. “Besides, what if it’s not the other two? What if it’s the police? Can’t have someone covered in blood answer the door.”

As James walked off to the front door, I stayed curled up in Peter’s lap, his hand slowly stroking my shaking arm in an attempt to sooth me. New flash: it wasn’t working.

Two more screeches emerged from the living room which meant that Remus and Sirius had finally showed up. Still shaking, I finally rose from my seating position, with the help of Peter, and made my way into the living room.

It was the first time I had seen the mess I had made with a clear head, or a head that wasn’t plagued with wrath and hatred. Blood was all up the walls, coating too many surfaces to count. The body was lying face down on the carpet, fresh blood still leaking out of his corpse. A putrid smell filled the room, coming from the gas build up in the man’s body. Gagging at the sight, I held my ground, fighting the need to run away and throw up in my bathroom.

“Okay, Remus and Sirius are here now. Can you please tell us what happened?” James begged, his eyes filled with fear. I couldn’t blame him. Finding out one of his best friends had murdered someone must have been horrifying, but it was no time to ponder about the drastic change in our relationship. I needed to explain.

“Do you remember Este, the hufflepuff in our year? She was in our herbology class year seven. She was also in our potions class up until year six.” I started, looking at my friend’s around me, who were all listening intently. “Well, we’ve been friends since year one I guess. We were friends for many years. Even after we left Hogwarts, I still caught up with her. Every Tuesday night, we’d have dinner together and chat, you know, gossip about what’s going on. Anyway, one night, she was talking about her husband-”

“Husband?” Sirius interjected, completely confused. “Este never dated anyone during the entirety of Hogwarts. We’ve only been out for less than a year. How did she find someone to date and marry in that timeframe?”

“Well, they met the day after graduation, at a ministry party. Este was starting in the Magical Accidents and Catastrophes department and met Jason Bulstrode. They must’ve hit it off because a month later they were married. I went to their wedding in August; it was quite pleasant.”

“Okay, continue with the story.” Remus hurried me along, getting quite fidgety with the body behind him. He was anxiously looking behind him, as if the body was going to start moving.

“Oh right, anyway, one night, she was talking about Jason. She was getting nervous because she thought he was cheating on her. She kept talking about how Jason had been spending money on jewellery that wasn’t hers and how he has been coming home from work later and later, smelling like cheap perfume and merlot. I convinced her to confront him about it. A week later, we were supposed to meet for our weekly dinner but she never showed up. I went down to this bar that Jason always went to to see if he knew anything. He was drunk, going on about how she went missing. I didn’t believe it for one second.”

I paused, taking a deep breath. Peter had started drinking out of the wine bottle once more. Remus was fiddling nervously with his digits, as Sirius tried to calm him down, while listening in to every word I was saying.

“Another week goes by and a woman moves into Este and Jason’s house. You’ll never guess who. It was Lucinda Greengrass. I thought it was strange to see Jason move on so quickly because Este could’ve still shown up, but then it hit me. Este was never going to show up. Jason had murdered her. So, I did the only logical thing I could think of. I confronted him once again at the bar. He seemed a lot more sober though this time. When I brought up the fact that he killed his wife, he lunged at me. I thought I could apparate away to protect myself but he had already grabbed onto me. He was trying to kill me first, so technically it was self defence. I grabbed a framed picture from my mantle and smashed it on the ground. I used one of the broken pieces of glass and used it to protect myself. Then, I wrote a letter to you four and got you to come over. I think we’ve caught up.”

I was out of breath by the time I had finished talking, expecting to be bombarded with hundreds of questions. Except, they all seemed quite silent, their own plans formulating over in their heads. I stayed quiet, letting them think, biting my own nails at what was going on. Remus was the one who spoke up first.

“Did anyone see you leave the bar with Jason?” Remus asked, hurrying out of the kitchen into the living room. He seemed to be looking for something, but what?

“No.” I put simply, watching as Sirius’ face lit up, understanding what Remus was getting at. James and Peter made eye contact and with that, it seemed like everyone was on the same page except me.

“Then his last known location was the bar. He could’ve gone missing at the bar.” James muttered, following Remus. Except, James headed for the laundry, hurriedly looking for cleaning supplies.

“Missing?” I called, frantically trying to follow them, but they all seemed to be in a mind of their own, understanding what had to be done. James emerged from the laundry with a mop and a bucket of bleach. Peter came from the direction of the kitchen holding a massive black garbage back, gloves decorating his hands.

“No one knows you killed him, [Y/N], and we intend on keeping it that way. He’ll stay a missing man.” Peter finished off the thought, carefully trodding over to Jason’s bloody corpse on the ground. “Besides, Este is also classified as missing. It could be played off that they ran off together or something.”

I was rooted to the spot as I watched what was going on around me. Peter had put Jason’s body in a weird contortion to fit in the garbage bag and tied a knot. Quickly, he grabbed another to double line the bag, making sure there were no leakages. Once it was secure, Peter placed the bag outside to air out, making sure the smell wouldn’t linger much longer in the house.

Sirius was quick to clean the linen. He picked up the rug from the ground and hurried it off into the laundry so it could clean itself the muggle way. The next task was trying to remember the cleaning spells from year three and being able to execute them at such a high quality that it can get rid of even the strongest of stains, like blood.

“Can you help me with this, love?” Sirius cooed, motioning for me to help him with the stains on the couches. Muttering the incantation, we watched the stain fade ever so slightly. Cursing under his breath, Sirius tried again, whispering the spell once more. The blood splotch faded once more but only slightly. “At this rate, we’ll be here for hours.”

At this moment, Remus came back into the room, holding up what he was looking for before. My old boat keys. Being a half blood with a muggle father meant that he had taught me a few things about the muggle world. He had also taught me how to drive a boat, helping me get my boating license at only fifteen years old. It was perplexing though; why would Remus care about my boat? It wasn’t going to help us now.

“Where do you dock your boat?” Remus said calmly, spinning the keys around in his fingers effortlessly. By now, he had caught the attention of the rest of the marauders. Sirius poked his head out from behind the couch, James looked up from where he was mopping the floors, and Peter walked back into the living room from checking on the bag in the backyard.

“Uh, all the way back in my hometown, miles away from here. Old Muster Lake.” I stuttered out. With that, Remus opened up more of my drawers, searching for a map. When he had found it, he motioned for me to follow him into the dining room where he splayed the map out on the table.

“Show me.” Remus stated firmly, brushing his fingers over the dirty map. Hesitantly, I pointed my fingers about a hundred miles north of here. Remus bit his lip, thinking about what to do next. His breathing was shallow and I could feel his nervousness from here. All I hoped was that his plan would work out.

“Can you still drive the boat?” Remus said after a while, looking me in the eyes. I nodded slowly and Remus looked content, grabbing the map from the table and motioned for Peter to come to him. “We’re going to the lake to dump the body. You’re coming.”

“What? No.” Peter spluttered, his heart racing quickening. “I get terrible motion sickness. Oi! James!” Peter called James over who was focused on his task at hand, scrubbing the floor with the mop. “I’ll take over your job and you can go to the lake with these two.”

“Alright.” James huffed, passing the mop over to Peter. When they were ready, Remus, James and I walked outside into the night, walking over to the garbage bag where Jason’s body was already rotting. Even in the darkness of the night, I could tell that the bag hadn’t leaked, which was a good sign. With a nod of Remus and James’ head, I knew they were ready, so I held onto the bag while they held onto my arms and I apparated away into the night.

As we arrived at Old Muster Lake, a wave of post apparition nausea washed over me, nearly toppling me over if it hadn’t been for James holding me up. When I got myself sorted, I looked out onto the lake where I hadn’t been for years.

The whole lake looked deserted at this time of year. A faint mist was rising off of the lake, reflecting in the moonlight of the crescent moon. Big trees breathed in the like breeze, swaying softly in the wind. A hooting owl and the rustle of tree branches were the only noises that could be heard between the three of them.

Remus was the first to break the silence, stepping forward, his feet crunching onto the leafy ground. The dead leaves cracked underneath his shoes, giving away his position. He paused, listening out for anyone, sniffing the air slightly, before continuing to walk up to the docks. Thinking it was safe, James and I followed after him until we reached the end of the dock. The planks of the dock were old and unkempt, seeming like they might break underneath our feet. Carefully, we walked across the together, before the dock finished beneath us. I could see my boat a bit away from the dock, but it was too far away. There was no way of reaching the boat, until I had an idea.

“Remus, give me my key.”

“What?”

“I can swim over to the boat and bring it around. Give me my keys.” I repeated, holding my hand out to him. Obliging, he placed the keys on my palm and watched as I looped my digits around the key ring tight so it wouldn’t escape me.

I hadn’t swam in years. As I dived off the dock and into the freezing water, I remembered the rush of it. Resurfacing, I gasped for air, shivering in the winter water. My clothes hung uncomfortably by my side, sticking to my cold figure. My teeth chattered unconsciously, reminding me to get a move on before I froze in the temperature. We didn’t want two dead bodies in the lake now, did we?

Free styling in the lake, I stroked my arms by my side, swimming towards my boat in the ocean. It was about a seventy meter swim which was an okay length, but the warmth of the water made it feel like an eternity. When I finally reached the boat, I climbed up the ladder at the back and clambered into the boat. A chilly gush of wind hit my skin, sending goosebumps up my spine. I was too cold but I persisted, fumbling with the key in my hand and struggling to put it in the key hole. When it finally went in, I turned the engine on, letting a roar come out of the exhaust. Luckily, there was still half a tank of fuel in the tank from the summers ago when my family had come to the lake. Back then, it brought such happy memories. Now, not at all.

I brought the boat around to the dock, letting James and Remus pile in, pulling the heavy bag over the side of the ship. When we were ready, I sped off into the middle of the lake, where it was deepest, the perfect spot to dump a body.

“The next open season will be summer. By the time it comes, the body should’ve decomposed a lot more.” I spluttered out, my cold body shivering, making the words come out of my mouth in an unsteady stream.

“Here. Take this. You look freezing.” Remus said quietly, placing his jacket over my shoulders, which I gratefully accepted. Immediately, I started feeling much warmer, continuing on with our mission.

Once we reached the middle of the lake, there weren’t a lot of words said between the three of us. Instantly, James started untying the knot on the garbage bag, opening it up to the world. It reeked worse than before but there was nothing we could do about it now. With all three of our strengths combined, we managed to hold onto the bag and tip the corpse into the lake with a splash. Wordlessly, we headed back to the dock, as I dropped the two boys back off.

Again, I turned the engine off, tying the boat back up at the buoy. Holding onto the keys, I dived back into the chilling lake, though the cold didn’t affect as much as last time. Swimming back to the dock, I relished in everything we had done, remembering the body that was now decomposing in the lake. I felt dirty as I swam through the contaminated water.

Reaching the dock, I pulled myself out via the ladder and laid down on the planks, catching my breath. That’s when everything caught up to me. Tears were ebbing in the corners of my eyes, spilling onto my reddening cheeks. My lip quivered as quiet sobs spilled past my lips. Closing my eyes, I let the darkness consume me for a few moments, until I felt two strong arms hoisting me back up into a standing position. Stroking my arms, they both tried to soothe me from my breakdown. Minutes ticked by as I let my tears run down my cheeks. I was openly sobbing now. All I needed was a sleep.

“You wanna go now?” James muttered to which I nodded. Holding onto the deflated bag, James apparated us away, back into my unrecognisable house.

Peter and Sirius had done a fantastic job. There wasn’t a speck of blood anywhere in the living room; everything looked spotless. The rug that was drenched with blood had gone through the washing machine and was now back in its usual spot. The couches looked brand new, meaning that Sirius must have figured out how to do the spell properly. An aroma of fresh flowers flooded the room, overpowering the smell of rotting flesh. It was perfect.

“How did it go?” Sirius asked, appearing from the kitchen with Peter.

“It’s been taken care of.” I mustered up the courage to say. “Now, if anyone asks, and I doubt they will, but just in case, we had a dinner party tonight.”

The four of them nodded in agreement, heading for the doorway to leave, but I stopped them.

“And you stayed the night. Everyone had had a little too much to drink. That means no one would have slipped off to kill anyone, okay?”

With that, they all followed me up the staircase into the hallway of spare rooms for them to sleep in. I thought I was alone as I stayed out in the hallway, turning the lights out. I cried again.

I cried for a while.

Until I felt a reassuring hand on my back, calming me down. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t worry, love. No body, no crime, right?”

138 notes · View notes

justahopelessssromantic · 4 years

Text

Father’s Day

So girl I know u already posted Daddy angel again, but since next month is Father’s Day, I was wondering if u can do another request of Daddy angel, where you and the him and the kids go hang out at felipes house with EZ of course to honor Father’s Day? But the twist is your going to tell angel that your pregnant again! @briannab1234

A/N: Thank you so much for the request and fueling me with Daddy Angel ideas 😍 I might be a little late but I’m going to pretend that I’m not lol so Happy Father’s Day everyone! I hope you all had a good day whether you celebrated or not ❤️. Here’s a little Daddy Angel for you all! Thank you for reading and like always I hope you enjoy! 🥰

*gif not mine*

Warnings: A little Angst and Fluff

On the edge of your king size bed you sat in Angel’s lap rapping your fingers anxiously across your thighs. Angel massaged your shoulders soothingly, running his rough hands down your smooth skin and resting them on top of your hands as he held on to them, ceasing your anxious tick. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck placing sweet kisses to your exposed flesh as he murmured to you. “This is the one, amor. I can feel it.”

You listened to his words trying to believe them in your heart as you repeated to yourself in your mind over and over again that this was the one. This would finally be the one and all the disappointments of the past year would be worth it.

This was the one and you would finally be pregnant again.

You closed your eyes taking a deep breath trying but failing to settle the fluttering nerves from within. “How much longer?” You whined. This was always the worst part, the waiting.

Angel glanced at his phone lying face up on the bed beside you, the digital timer counting down across the screen. “About four and a half more minutes.” He said as you groaned at his response. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you closer, bringing you some comfort. Neither one of you could have imagined it would be this difficult to conceive again with your two other children being conceived without even trying. They were your happy little accident miracles.

After the longest four minutes of silence in your life the tiny alarm on the phone beeped rapidly signaling the wait was finally over. Reaching over Angel canceled the alarm setting his phone back down as you remained seated. “Time’s up, babe.” He said looking over at you.

"I can't." You said looking back at him, eyes pleading.

Angel nodded, slipping you off his lap and onto the bed beside him. Standing up he gave you a smile. "This is the one." He repeated trying to keep positive thoughts. Leaving you there waiting he walked into the large master bathroom connected to your bedroom. Across the room sat the tiny stick on the marble countertop. He stood in the doorway a moment trying to get up the nerve to go look, his hands trembling.

The two of you were so excited when you first decided to try for another. It was a lazy day as you sat outside on your porch swing watching your daughter Penelope splash and play with her younger brother Mateo. She was so good after he was born taking on the role of big sister effortlessly. The two of you were incredibly proud of her. And little Mateo was the sweetest little boy, a Mama's boy through and through. He was always watching Angel though, wanting to be just like his daddy.

"We made some pretty fantastic kids, didn't we?" You said smiling as you snuggled in close resting your head against Angel's shoulder.

Angel pulled you closer as he watched his children. "We should have another." He said looking down at you.

You looked up at him getting lost in his eyes. Your heart rate sped up as the excitement set in at what he was saying. "We should." You agreed.

You began trying that night. It started off as fun and exciting. The sex was great and the two of you were so ecstatic at the prospect of expanding your family some more. But with every negative test, all the high hopes that just kept getting crushed, it became more of a chore than an act of love, a means to an end.

Gathering his courage Angel took a deep breath and trudged further into the bathroom stopping just before the counter. He wasn’t ready but his eyes betrayed him looking dead on the little screen. He lifted it off the counter, eyes filling with tears as his heart sank. The dreaded single line stared back at him. Another negative test and he didn’t know how to break it to you. He didn’t want to watch as your eyes lit up in anticipation as he entered your bedroom only for him to witness that light, the sparkle dull away to nothing like it did everytime he had to break your heart.

Running his hand over his eyes he wiped his tears away as he took a couple of deep breaths shaking his head in hopes of pushing back his own emotions. Turning back around he walked out of the bathroom stopping at the doorway. You had been fiddling with your hands in your lap as you waited. As soon as you heard him in the doorway you picked your head up the rush of adrenaline rushing through you in anticipation until you saw his face, that's when your own heart sank. You could tell he was trying to put on a brave face but you knew him so well you could see right through him. He didn't have to say anything, you knew.

Standing up you padded over to him wrapping your arms around his torso and laying your head against his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you holding you close as you listened to his heartbeat. Angel leaned down kissing the top of your head. "Next time." He murmured although he didn't believe it in his heart. It felt like the two of you were just not destined to have another no matter how badly you wanted.

You brought your face back looking up at him. "That's what we said last time, and the time before, and the time before that." You whispered afraid of what your voice might sound like. "I'm so tired," you said defeatedly, "I don't think I can do this anymore, Angel."

He understood, he wasn't sure he himself could either. There was only so much heartbreak he could stand himself let alone having to witness yours. "That's okay," he said running the back of his fingertips down the side of your face. "Maybe we should take a step back, just stop trying for now. It's not worth all this pain and stress, mi dulce. As much as I'd love to have a thousand children with you,"

You giggled lightly at his words, "Now I think that's a little excessive," you teased earning a light chuckle from him as well.

"The two we have will do just fine. Our family is beautiful and special. I wouldn't ask to have it any other way. I love you, and I love them, you're all I need." Leaning down he titled your chin up bringing his lips to yours.

"I love us too," you murmured into his kiss.

Summer was here now and you were just finishing dressing Mateo after your children’s nightly bath.

"When's Daddy going to be home?" Penelope asked you. She was sitting in the middle of your large bed trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. The three of you could manage fine when Angel was out late or on runs but it didn't mean it wasn't hard.

Picking Mateo up you walked over to the bed and set him down beside his sister. "Dada?" He asked wondering the same thing as his sister.

You sighed, pulling them close for a hug. "Daddy will be home later tonight.” You said holding them close. “How about just for tonight we can watch a movie on Mommy and Daddy's big TV." You offered widening your eyes in excitement.

Your two children perked up at the idea, the offer being a good distraction.

"I'm going to go get ready for bed and pick up some. How about you two get the movie started and I will be right in." You handed P the remote kissing her forehead once and running your hand down the side of your son's face before heading back into the bathroom.

You washed your face quickly dabbing some moisturizer on your skin and then brushed your teeth. Slipping into one of Angel's shirts you threw your clothes into the hamper, picking up the discarded ones of your children from the floor and tossing them in as well. You then scooped the toys out of the bottom of the tub and setting them into the little basket you stored them in. You yawned after another exhausting day chasing after your children. It was summer finally so both kids were home full time and you were really starting to feel it. Angel was always good about helping out but the club had been busier recently so he had not been home as often. Still you didn't think you should be this tired, you used to be able to keep up with no problem but then again you were getting older. To top things off the heat had been terribly high already only adding to your discomfort, causing you to feel overheated and nauseous most days.

You stood up stretching your back out from being hunched over the tub. Turning around you opened the cupboard door under the sink setting the basket of toys inside and pulling out the one next to it full of hair supplies. Slipping it out there was a small thud and rush of movement from the corner of your eye catching your attention. You set the basket on the counter and bent back over to pick the thing up stopping just as your hand reached it. It was a box of pregnancy tests you had left over from when you and Angel were trying for another baby. Your heart clenched a little as you pulled the box out and looked at it. You stared at the box a while before tearing the cardboard box and taking one of the tests out of its packaging.

You don't know why you were doing it, maybe boredom or curiosity and the fact you had to pee anyways. Without overthinking too much about it or second guessing yourself you made your way to the toilet taking the test quickly before sticking the cap back on and setting it down while you washed your hands.

"Mamma you're gonna miss it!" You heard your daughter call out from the bedroom.

Drying off your hands you smiled to yourself grabbing the comb, detangler spray and hair ties from the basked. You made your way back to the room situating yourself behind your daughter as Mateo cuddled up close laying his head on your thigh. You began combing out Penelope's hair. "What are we watching this time?"

"Moana," Penelope said, wiggling a little in excitement before you stilled her gently and got to work on detangling her hair.

You mostly just listened to the movie as it played your children’s attentions intently on the screen. Humming along to the song you now knew by heart you tied off Penelope’s braid patting her back gently letting her know you were done. You gently removed Mateo’s head from your leg slipping out and off the bed from behind your two kids. Mateo snuggled into his sister instead now the two of them holding each other as they continued watching the movie. You would never get over little moments like this.

Bringing the comb and detangler to your bathroom you set them back in the basket, the test catching your attention again. You mentally scolded yourself for even taking the damn thing, picking it up and taking it to the trash bin. You tossed it into the bin, your eyes comprehending the results on the screen just as it landed in the bottom of the empty bin. Your heart stopped as you stared down your eyes filling instantly with tears. You brought your hand up to your mouth stifling the joyful sob that escaped your lips.

There on the screen were the two most beautiful lines you had ever seen, the lines you so desperately wanted all those times before.

You almost couldn’t contain your excitement. Your initial reaction was to call Angel right away and share the glorious news but then you decided to wait. You wanted the moment you told him to be special, and in person.

You bent down picking the test up and stared at it a little longer wiping the tears from your eyes. You tucked the test in the back of a drawer and exited your bathroom once more shutting the light off on your way out.

Mateo and Penelope were now tucked under the covers and you slipped into bed with them Mateo instantly snuggling into you. Penelope snuggled her brother and you wrapped your arm around the two of them silently watching the rest of the movie. As the credits rolled you couldn’t keep it in any longer. You looked over at your two wide awake children beside you.

“Mama has a surprise,” you said smiling. Penelope sat up anticipating your next words eagerly with Mateo copying his sister. “How would you guys feel about having a baby brother or sister?”

Penelope’s eyes lit up as she gasped with the biggest smile. She loved being a big sissy more than anything. Mateo again copied his sister even though he didn’t really fully understand what you were talking about. He could just feel the excitement joining in with the two of yours. “I want a baby sister more than anything!” Penelope squealed.

You giggled running your hand down the side of her face. “Well you might just get that but we won’t know for a little while longer.” You said placing your hand gently on your stomach. “We have to keep this a secret though. Can you do that for me?”

Penelope nodded rapidly. “Of course Mama! I’m great at secrets!” She boasted.

“Good.” You smiled over at her. “We’re gonna surprise Daddy tomorrow, okay?”

She nodded some more before jumping into your arms giving you a big hug. Mateo piled on top of her filing your heart with love from your children.

“Mama’s going to have a baby!” Penelope told Mateo trying to explain to her baby brother.

“Baby?” He asked, smiling.

“That’s right Baby,” you ran your hand across his hair. “Mama has a baby in her belly.” You tried to explain pointing to your stomach.

“Baby,” he repeated patting your belly. Then he pointed to his own repeating, “baby.” He giggled.

You and your daughter laughed at the cute response from your son. “No silly,” Penelope said, pulling him closer to her, “You don’t have a baby, Mama does!” She tried to explain but the little boy just kept pointing to his own belly repeating the word baby over and over.

“Alright,” you chuckled. “Now it’s getting late and way past your bedtime. It’s time to sleep, my little loves.”

“Can we watch Moana just once more? Please.” Penelope begged.

You gave in starting the movie over again knowing it wouldn’t be long until the two tuckered out and fell asleep beside you. You were right and soon Mateo was sleeping first, his head snuggled on your chest and his legs sprawled out to his sister with Penelope sleeping all sprawled out across Angel’s side of the bed. You didn’t make it halfway through yourself before you dozed off along with them.

It was past midnight when Angel got home. He was exhausted after a long day. The only thing he wanted was just to be able to be with his family. He kicked his boots off and hung his cut up by the door like he always did. The front hall light was left on for him like you always did and he made his way to the kitchen smiling as he saw the cookie left out for him with a little drawing from his children. He ate the cookie washing it down with some milk and then followed the faint sound and light of the tv down the hall and to the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway smiling as he looked on at his family snuggled up together and fast asleep with just the light of the tv illuminating their features.

You didn’t have trouble sleeping often but were a much lighter sleeper when Angel was not home. It was as if you could feel his comforting presence as you opened your eyes and looked over to where he was standing in the entrance to your bedroom.

“Hey,” he said softly smiling when he saw you looking at him.

“Hey,” you smiled, one hand resting lovingly on your stomach under the covers and the other wrapped around Mateo. “Happy Father’s Day.” You said softly as well.

Stepping over to your side of the bed he leaned down kissing you slowly. “Thank you, mi vida.”

You smiled getting lost in his eyes. You itched to tell him the good news but it wouldn’t be long until you did, so you willed yourself to be patient.

He leaned over you giving his son a kiss to the forehead. The little guy wiggled and smiled in his sleep as he snuggled closer. Then he walked over to his side of the bed and undressed, slipping on some shorts before crawling in beside Penelope. He lifted her arm and pushed her left over as he situated himself into the bed with his family. She snuggled against his chest and he wrapped his arm around her, settling it on her back. With his other arm he reached out running his hand through Mateo’s soft curls before finding yours hand and entwining his finger with yours.

You looked at one another, your children safe between you until you both drifted off into a deep sleep you could only get with the comfort of the other being near.

Morning came quickly and you were all rushing to get ready and head to Felipe’s for the day. You were helping Penelope get dressed as Angel was working on getting Mateo ready.

“Baby,” Mateo said grinning down at his belly as he pointed to it.

“No you’re a big boy now.” Angel said as he snapped his son's matching plaid shirt up. “Not a baby anymore little man. And soon you’re gonna be using the big boy potty too.” The two of you had been working on potty training the you f boy which was going slowly but Angel was certain he’d get the hang of it soon.

“Baby.” Mateo repeated and Angel just shook his head picking the boy up and into his arms.

“Alright little man, let’s go check on our girls.”

After many times back and forth from the house to the car with forgetting the gifts and then Penelope deciding she did in fact have to use the bathroom after you asked her twice resulting in you almost having a meltdown you were finally at Felipe’s to celebrate Father’s Day with your family.

You swore it was like herding cats. You could forget about ever being early to anything ever again since you had children but you could live with that.

“Happy Father’s Day.” You sang pulling Felipe in for a hug followed by your children.

“Happy Father’s Day!” Penelope shouted squeezing her abuelo tightly.

“Thank you Penelope." Felipe chuckled holding her tight before taking Mateo into his arms from Angel.

"Happy Father's Day, Pops." Angel said, giving him a quick hug with Felipe saying the same and set Mateo down to go play with his sister before he went to find a seat.

EZ entered the backyard bringing with him some beers for the occasion. Grinning he pulled his brother into a tight hug smacking his back a few times with his free hand. "Happy Father's Day old man." He said, still grinning. "Getting gray and everything," he teased his older brother.

"Blow me." Angel grinned, shoving his brother lightly.

“Wouldn’t you rather have your wife do that?” EZ smirked, pushing his brother's buttons some more.

“Ezekiel Reyes!” You scolded walking by and smacking him upside the back of the head playfully, “There are children here!”

Angel wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you close. “I mean he’s not wrong and it is Father’s Day,” Angel smirked down at you wiggling his eyebrows. “I’m sure no one will miss us if we’re gone for a few. EZ will watch the kids.”

“Yeah?” You smirked up at him and bit your bottom lip. He leaned down closer to you for a kiss and you took the opportunity to smack him across the back of the head too.

“Ow,” he whined, rubbing the back of his head, EZ laughing beside you.

“That’s what you get for saying such vulgar things at a family gathering.” You teased.

Angel licked his lips as he looked at you thinking of the many vulgar things the two of you had snuck away from gatherings of all sorts of natures to do. “Alright, I guess I can wait until we’re home and then you can give me your special surprise.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him lightly. “Have a beer and cool down before you bust your pants or some shit. I’m gonna go get the gifts from the car.” Your stomach began filling with nerves again as you walked away from the two and back towards the house. You glanced back once blushing as you caught Angel watching you.

Angel and EZ made their way over to their Pops handing him a beer and sitting beside him, cracking them open. Mateo ran over practically jumping into Felipe’s lap.

“Hey little man?” EZ asked looking over at the small boy who was almost an exact copy of Angel. He was a chunky little thing just like Angel had been. “Where’s your sister?”

“Mama!” Mateo squealed excitedly.

“She’s with Mama getting the gifts?” Angel asked, looking at his boy.

He nodded happily wiggling in Felipe’s lap. “Mama,” he giggled snuggling in close to his abuelo and then started pointing to his belly again, “baby!”

EZ looked at Angel’s questioningly. “What’s that about?” He chuckled.

“Like I would know?” Angel replied shaking his head snickering as he took a swig of his beer, “I guess it’s his new thing.” He turned his attention back to Mateo who was looking back at him with those big brown eyes of his. “Maybe we’re pushing the potty training too hard.”

“He’ll get there,” Felipe spoke up drinking his own beer. “You have a beautiful family, Angel.” He said looking at his eldest. He knew he didn’t say it enough but he was proud of the man Angel had become and the life he had made for himself with his family. “I’m proud of you, son.”

Angel’s heart clenched at those words. He cleared his throat holding his beer up. “Thanks Pops.” The men heard the giggles of Penelope coming around the house and their attention turned to the two of you walking their way. “Couldn’t have done it without her.” He said as he made eye contact with you, his heart rate picking up everytime he saw you even after all these years.

Penelope ran ahead of you jumping into EZ’s lap nearly knocking him down, her giggles never ending. “How are you so energetic without even having cake yet?” EZ asked her.

“It’s a secret.” She sang wrapping her arms around his large arm.

“What?” EZ mocked hurt, “You never keep secrets from me P!”

“Hey, secrets aren’t allowed young lady.” Angel spoke up looking at his daughter who giggled more burying her face in EZ’s chest.

You finally caught up and handed the men their gifts. Taking a seat in front of them you smiled at Mateo as he crawled off Felipe’s lap and onto yours. Felipe opened his gift first smiling as he unfolded the apron that Angel helped the kids decorate. He smiled thanking you all for the wonderful gift.

Next it was Angel’s turn. He held the box in his hand getting ready to open it without a clue as to what wonderful news it held inside. Penelope sat up straight in her tio’s lap giggling harder now as she shook in excitement. Angel looked at you and then his daughter suspiciously. “I swear to God if something pops out at me,” Angel said.

“Don’t you trust me, baby?” You asked, smiling at him.

Angel looked at you melting under your gaze, “Of course I trust you, amor. It’s our mischievous little girl and her trouble causing tio I don’t trust.” He added, looking between his brother and daughter. His younger brother had recently been teaching her the art of pranking and where it was fun at first, recently Angel had become her sole victim.

“Don’t look at me,” EZ said, holding his free hand up in defense. “Whatever it is I had no part in.”

“Just open it Daddy!” She encouraged him. She was about ready to burst with all the excitement and couldn’t wait for him to find out.

“Alright,” Angel gave in. He untied the bow carefully glancing up at you once more looking so beautiful across from him holding Mateo on his lap. Returning his attention back to the box he smiled removing the ribbon completely and opening the lid. Setting the lid aside he took in the note written in your best handwriting.

'Guess who is finally outnumbered? We did it! Happy Father's Day!'

He read it once and then again processing the message in his mind. His heart beat faster as he looked up at you, the tears already threatening to spill from his eyes. You met his gaze, your own eyes filling and you smiled softly. “Is this for real?” He asked in disbelief. “You’re not fucking with me?”

“I would never,” you replied, voice breaking slightly.

Angel looked back down pulling the note out and finding the test beneath it. Those two little lines were the best thing he had ever seen. He handed the box over to his brother standing up quickly and making his way to you. Leaning over he cupped your face in his kissing you before resting his forehead against yours, your son between you. He blinked a few times, the tears falling to your face as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve never been happier.” He mumbled, “This is the best fucking Father’s Day ever.”

“Baby!” Mateo shouted between you and now Angel got it.

Angel scooped Mateo into his arms holding him tight. “That’s right little man. You’re gonna be a big brother.”

Penelope was ecstatic for the news to finally be shared and jumped out of EZ’s lap who was looking at the note and test with a grin on his face now. She ran to Angel wrapping her arms around his leg and he caressed her head.

You stood up joining your family. Wrapping your arm around Angel you leaned your head against his shoulder. “Happy Father’s Day Daddy.” You cooed.

Angel smiled at you and then his two beautiful children. It was going to be a ride being outnumbered but wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle with you by his side. “Best fucking Father’s Day ever.” He repeated. Angel was very thankful to be surrounded by family who loved him and who he loved more than anything.

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funkyhanji · 3 years

Text

Ain't Enough, Baby [English | BNHA]

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia (@Horikoshi Kohei) Character(s): Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Masaru Pairing(s): MitsuKatsuMasa Rating: E Word count: 2715 CWs: Pre-Canon, Shota, Mildly Dubious Consent, Consensual Incest, Incest, Parent/Child Incest, Dom/sub, Femdom, Pet Play, Handcuffs, Punishment, Spanking, Begging, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Piss Drinking, Aftercare, Rare Pairings, Threesome - F/M/M, Mommy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Summary: - He hadn't meant to break the window! He knew he couldn't use his quirk inside, and he hadn't; he'd bragged to his friends and Deku about his new move, promising to show them outside in the yard during lunch break. He'd just miscalculated the distance. He didn't explode the glass pane on purpose. -

The grip on the back of Katsuki's neck tightens a little when he and his mom step out of the school grounds.

He doesn't try to defend himself or even to catch her attention, but he does glance sideways up at her as they approach the car, trying to gouge how bad he messed up. Mitsuki doesn't meet his eyes, only staring straight ahead with the clacking of her high heels on the pavement being the background noise. She doesn't say anything either, not even when she opens the passenger door and points at him to get in.

The whole ride home is silent. The heavy kind, the one which makes his skin feel tight around his knuckles, makes him chew on his lip in anxiousness. That would be a dead give away of how angry she is, because the only times his mom is so quiet are when she's seriously pissed — and it's Katsuki's fault now.

He hadn't meant to break the window! He knew he couldn't use his quirk inside, and he hadn't; he'd bragged to his friends and Deku about his new move, promising to show them outside in the yard during lunch break. He'd just miscalculated the distance. He didn't explode the glass pane on purpose.

He'd already explained it to the principal and his teachers, Deku backing him up even, and they'd told his mom, so there's nothing more he can do.

Katsuki sits in the car, hands clutching his knees and a frown wrinkling his brows, sweat gathering at his nape.

[*]

Once at home, he gets out without prompting, following his mom to the front door. Inside he sets down his backpack, takes off both his shoes and his jacket alongside her, then they walk into the living room.

Katsuki stops when he sees his dad curled up on the couch, wearing nothing but a familiar collar, fake paws, knee pads and a tail — he remembers the first time he'd seen the set, Mitsuki calling it 'Daddy's doggie costume' —. Oh, he thinks, understanding and dismay dawning on him. His mom isn't angry just because of the broken window, but also because the call had interrupted their play time.

He watches his mom approach Masaru.

She pets his hair, scratches him behind the ears; she lets him nuzzle her face, press his nose into her neck as she coos and kisses him on the lips. She whispers an apology for leaving so suddenly. She sits next to his dad, reaching forward to gently trace the lines of his ribs, his stomach. She tells him «Good doggie, patiently waiting for me», her fingers caressing Masaru's stiff, red cock from base to leaking tip. He whines, hips pushing upward, searching for more friction.

«Ah, ah, not yet Masa,» his mom says, chiding. «I've got something to take care of first.» She turns to stare daggers right at Katsuki. Her red eyes burn a hole through his forehead.

Oh. Oh shit. He'd hoped she might have forgotten about him, but of course she hasn't.

«Come here, Katsuki.» Her voice is cold and commanding, in a way he only hears when she gets really upset with him, or her clients.

He has no choice but to obey.

He swallows down the lump in his throat, walking forward on slightly shaky legs. He looks over at his dad — calmly sitting on his haunches, his paws on his thighs while he ignores his neglected erection thanks to years of practice —, wordlessly asking for help yet knowing he won't get any. Not while he's playing dog.

His heart beats fast in his chest. He knows what's coming. He's been in this situation a lot, especially after his mom had given him the custom-made crimson leather bands he wears around his wrists; a gift for pulling off his first future, special hero move.

He fiddles with the wristbands, nervously thumbing the metal ring jutting out even as he halts in front of his mom. «Mo—»

«Shut up.»

Katsuki's teeth clack shut. She grabs him by the arm, yanking him onto her lap in a quick movement; he yelps, sprawled across her legs with his head near his dad's knees.

«Hands,» Mitsuki says and again, he can do nothing but follow the command.

He bites his lips but folds his arms behind his back, shaking fists resting at his waist. He knows better than to try to climb off, so he waits.

He sees his mom fish out a small lock from her pants' pockets; she hooks it into the hoops of his cuffs before closing it, sealing his hands in that position. Already, the tenseness in his muscles doubles and he has to make a conscious effort to try to relax. It's a pointless attempt, though, because his body goes rigid and his breath catches in his throat when his shorts are pulled down and off along with his underwear.

Katsuki feels his mom's hand settle on his bare ass. Her fingers lightly dig into his soft skin, squeezing his right butt cheek and massaging it, inching downward. She wriggles in-between, her palm now a bit damp, she probes along the cleft until she's tickling his balls with a manicured nail.

He sighs, can't help the way he melts under her ministrations — it's warm, tender, almost comforting in how it reminds him of all the times she touches him when he's been good, when she rewards him.

Mitsuki groans, shifting on her seat so she can bend down to lick and bite at his ass. «Count, Katsuki. To thirty,» she says. He doesn't need to look over to know she's licking her lips in anticipation.

It's the only warning he gets.

His mom's hand raises and descends on his ass with a resounding smack!, the stinging breaks out from the point of impact immediately. He cries out, jolting forward while his spine arches.

«O-one,» he says, voice quivering.

Mitsuki starts punishing him in earnest, rhythmically and repeatedly, the swishing of her hand cutting through the air as loud as the slap descending on Katsuki's soft cheeks. She's unrelenting. He can feel her anger radiate from her piercing stare; if he hesitates too long before calling the number, she grabs his hair and lifts his head up at an uncomfortable angle until he wheezes it out.

«How— many times— did I tell you,» Mitsuki snarls, uttering words that aren't orders for the first time since showing up at school earlier. «To be careful— how you use— your quirk— you fuckin' runt!»

Each short pause is accompanied by a sharp hit, each targeting one cheek, then the other.

Katsuki's body recoils, but he can't move; he doesn't even dare to think to do it—he doesn't want to think what the consequences would be. So he lays there on her lap and takes it, trembling and trying to keep his noises down and counting. His voice is nasal, strained; his face feels hot just like his ass and the pressure of tears on the verge of spilling prickle his eyes.

At the twelfth spank he can't hold back the sobs anymore. «P-pleaseee! N-no more...!»

Smack! «Count, ya ungrateful brat!»

Katsuki wails. «T-t-twen'-on-one…!»

His fists clench tighter, his shoulders are cramping up. Sweat gathers on his palms, between his shoulder-blades, behind his knees, between his thighs. «Mo… Mommy, pleeease!» His breath hitches on a wheeze.

Mitsuki doesn't stop or slow down. She expertly moves her legs just so, prompting Katsuki's own to part; she starts hitting his upper thighs, dangerously close to his balls and he can swear she lingers there for a second before bringing her hand up and down again.

«God,» Katsuki hears her moan through the furious pounding of his heart. «You make— such a— beautiful sight…! Fuck, I'm all wet!»

«Ple-please Mommy— AH! AH! T-t-t-wen'-four!» he pleads, hiding his face into the couch cushions.

He feels something brush his hair and finds his dad nosing at his flushed face in silence, Masaru looking at him with understanding. He lowers himself to Katsuki's level, licks up the tears streaming down his eyes, bumps their foreheads together. «D… Daddy…»

«Tch! Didn't say you could— comfort him Masa,» his mom grunts as she keeps smacking his ass. «This mutt— deserves a good— spanking!»

«Won't... do— do it a-a-again…! P-pr-promise!» Katsuki sobs. His hair is yanked on forcefully in warning and he inhales. «T-twenty… s-s-s-seven!»

��Damn— right— you won't!» Mitsuki growls, delivering the last three strikes in rapid succession, harsh and aimed right at the center of his ass.

The living room goes quiet for the next several minutes.

Katsuki's whimpers and hiccups the only sounds loud enough to be heard.

He squirms on his mom's lap. His ass and thighs burn but are also numb, his face is no better; his body feels feverish and cold and kind of agitated, but in a good way. His dick is embarrassedly hard and tingly where it's trapped between his stomach and Mitsuki's pants. His mom slowly pulls him up and helps him straddle her legs, when he's regained control of his breathing, careful not to agitate his smarting ass.

She stares at him, her eyes dark with a certain kind of hunger he's become familiar with, but which softens somewhat as she takes in Katsuki's puffy eyes and reddened, wet cheeks.

Katsuki sniffs, bashful and wishing his hands were free to wipe at the snot leaking from his nose. «'M s-sorry, Mommy...»

She cradles his face in her hands, thumbs brushing away the stray tears escaping him. She leans in, kissing him square on the mouth. «I know, baby,» she whispers, sucking on his wobbling lip. «But you were a bad boy, and what do bad boys get?»

«… Punishment.»

«That's right,» Mitsuki says, honey sweet, petting his hair away from his sweaty forehead.

She kisses him again, laps at his bite-swollen lips and Katsuki opens up for her without coaxing, used to it, craving the touch after enduring her discipling. His breath still catches when her tongue slips inside. He does his best to reciprocate the kiss; he's rewarded with a gentle caress down his back.

He lets his eyes fall closed, quickly relaxing in her hold despite his bound hands and aching ass. He doesn't like the punishments, but this — the attention, the blissful feeling of calm that being cradled in Mommy's arms gives him, the pleasant buzzing in his veins —, he relishes in this.

It's incredibly reassuring.

«Here, baby.» Mitsuki whispers, pulling back and smiling at him, the pad of a finger tracing his spit-shiny mouth.

She unbuttons her dress shirt, pulls down her lacy bra and lets her breasts spill out.

Katsuki whines, falling toward her chest immediately; he latches onto a nipple, sucking and nipping it until it's stiff and swollen. Then switches to the other, repeating the process encouraged by Mitsuki's impassioned sighs of «good boy». He's too lost in pleasing his mom, in her warm skin against his and the weight of her tits on his tongue.

He barely notices her hands traveling down along his back, settle on his ass.

He whimpers around a pert nipple when she massages him gingerly, jolts of pain mixed with pleasure shoot up his body through her soothing touches and the fierce stinging. She pets his cheeks, squeezes them and runs her thumbs across the sensitive skin; she pulls them apart, her pointer fingers grazing his hole, lightly prodding as he shudders and whines.

«Such cute sounds you make, baby,» Mitsuki praises, her fingers sliding downward to skim at his balls and back up his taint.

«M-Mo— nnh— Mommy...» he moans, drunk on the addicting, syrupy taste of her sweat.

She indulges him, craning her neck downward to kiss him, to fill his mouth with her tongue over and over, stealing all of his breath and his needy mewls.

«Masa,» he hears her say to his dad when they separate. One of Mitsuki's hands leave him, the other still kneading his spank-red cheeks. «You've been such a good doggie today… you wanna cum?» Masaru grumbles a little, an affirmative. «You can hump our runt's ass.»

Through the haze in his mind, Katsuki hears his dad move, the couch shifting.

His mom shoves two fingers in his mouth, tells him to suck, keeps him busy while his dad crawls behind him. He jumps as he feels paws on his ass and a wet tongue lick a broad strip from below his sac all the way up his cleft.

«AH! Da-Da— nngghhh!» Katsuki moans, shivering.

Masaru sweeps his tongue over his hole again and again; he slobbers over it, the tip tracing his fluttering entrance before pressing on it tenderly, the warm wetness loosening the tight ring of muscles.

Katsuki arches his hips back, wanting more.

His dad pulls off for a moment — the muted sound of something falling on the carpet going unnoticed — only to mold himself flush to Katsuki soon after, panting loud in his ear. Masaru's hot, hard cock settles in between his ass cheeks, his paws at his sides. He starts rocking his hips back and forth, his leaking length gliding over his hole in quick, desperate thrusts. They both whine and moan, rocking together.

Mitsuki's hands are all over him; nails scratching his flushed skin, twisting his nipples, caressing his bound arms and hands. They sneak between their bodies and he feels her fumble with her pants, moans something nasty against his neck.

Katsuki's dick rubs against his mom's stomach, overstimulated and close to bursting. «AH! G-gotta p-pee…! I-I— M-mommy!»

His mom's free hand comes up to Katsuki's front, fingers closing around his twitching length. «Not on the couch you don't, mutt,» she says, her sharp tone ruined by the tremble of arousal in her voice.

He sobs. «Pl-pleaseee!! Mo… mmy!»

Mitsuki groans and pulls Katsuki to a stand in front of her, still preventing him from releasing. She sloppily shoves her pants down one-handed before barking out an order to Masaru. «Shit Masa… just fuck me, hurry up!»

The couch squeaks a bit when they shift to accommodate the new positions.

Katsuki feels his dad's hair prickle the back of his thighs; he sighs deep and long at the same time as his mom groans, her damp breath tickling his groin.

«Ah! Fuck— yes, God— faster, doggie!!»

«Momm— OH! Mmghn—!!» Katsuki's plea cuts into a cry.

Mitsuki's lips wrap around his dick, taking it all in with no effort and flicking the hard erection with an expert and teasing tongue. She sighs and mewls, sucking on him as his dad fucks her into the cushions—if he had a clearer mind, he'd be curious about how that is like—; he knows she feels good, he's heard her say it a lot all the times he'd caught them or he'd been made to watch.

His mom's hands are on his ass again, two fingers easily slipping inside him one at a time. They scissor his walls, curl downward and poke at his sweet spot — his prostate, a part of his brain supplies —, making him quake on unsteady legs and keen. He doesn't know whether to buck into her mouth or her fingers. He feels too good, too hot, too sensitive.

His dick is so hard it hurts. «Mom— nnh!— c-c-can I p— AH!— pee…? M-Mommy pl'ssee!!»

Mitsuki pops off of him, moaning and looking up at him with a flushed, lustful stare. «Yeah, pup— shit! Ah, Masa!— piss down your— ffuuck!— Mommy's throat…!»

She seals her mouth around him again while tormenting his sweet spot, and Katsuki can't hold back anymore.

«M-Mommmmy…!!»

His stomach muscles tense, then relax and he's releasing all the pent up piss on his mom's tongue with a garbled whine. Her hands squeeze his ass and keep him firmly planted against her face as she drinks and drinks and drinks.

Mitsuki's still bucking her hips up to meet his dad's thrusts until she stiffens, a breathy sigh puffing over Katsuki's stomach. Behind him, Masaru growls immediately after, halting all movement as well.

Katsuki's asleep before his mom frees his hands; he's only vaguely aware of the tender touches massaging his wrists, or the light kisses pressed to his temples, or the blanket draped over his shoulders.

«You did well, baby.»

#bakucest #mitsukatsu #masamitsu #Masakatsu #bakugou mitsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou masaru #GMiC!verse #rarepair #funkys fics

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter Twenty-Seven

A/N So many variables and such little time

It had been six days of Loretta living in a Los Angeles without Daniel. Eleven since they had even spoken. The first few days were easy – as easy as it could be with your soulmate always on your tastebuds – and Loretta distracted herself with Corbyn as often as she could. Corbyn had been fired from the car shop due to Christian ratting his violent outburst out to the manager but it didn’t seem to phase him; it only meant more time with his girlfriend. Corbyn attended a local Los Angeles community college so he didn’t have to move which also allowed for Loretta to never have to leave his side. Loretta was riding this bit of a high at first as she spent day in and day out with her long-term boyfriend and they went on various dates throughout the week but as the days passed on, her mood started dropping. Right around the day Daniel left for upstate.

With Daniel gone, Corbyn permitted Loretta to visit the diner again – although he always went with her anyway – so she was back to her 3:00 strawberry shakes although they didn’t seem to taste as good as she once remembered. This Friday was no different.

Corbyn and Loretta sat at a booth in the diner for a late lunch, waiting for their meals with a shake in front of her and a Coca-Cola in front of him. Corbyn was talking about something to do with his car and what he had planned to do in regard to aesthetic improvements on it, but Loretta was hardly listening. She was staring right past him to the jukebox on the far wall, expressionless, milkshake almost completely untouched in front of her. Corbyn didn’t ask her if she was okay.

Her own boyfriend didn’t seem to see her melancholies but Jack and Zach sure did. They had taken their food orders – Corbyn ordering for her again – and brought over their drinks without much additional conversation. Loretta still thanked them quietly by name but without looking at them at all costs. Jack and Zach stood at their usual spots behind the front counter, watching the couple from a distance as Corbyn rambled on and Loretta sat in perfect silence.

“That’s sad.” Zach mumbled, rolling some cutlery into the paper napkins.

“Sure is.” Jack sighed, looking over at his best friend. “I wonder how Daniel’s doing.”

“No better probably.”

“Yeah, well…he did all he could.”

Jack and Zach stared back across the restaurant to the couple.

“-Hopefully I can finish her up by next summer. We’re going to be driving in style before you know it, doll.” Corbyn smiled, lifting his glass bottle of pop to take a sip from the pink and white striped straw.

Loretta didn’t answer.

“Hey, doll. What’s going on?” Corbyn glanced over his shoulder as if to see what she was staring at. “Are you sulking just because I didn’t give you a nickel for the jukebox?”

Loretta shifted her eyes to his face blankly, “No. Sorry. I’m just not feeling myself recently.”

“Time of the month?”

Loretta audibly scoffed at him and leaned down to sip her milkshake; the whipped cream already almost melted into the pink ice cream with how long it had been sitting untouched on the table.

“It’s not my time of the month, Corbyn.” she grumbled.

“So then what’s your issue?” he leaned back in the booth and pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his leather jacket. He waited for her to answer while he set one past his lips and flicked on his lighter. She watched him silently, flatly, as he took a long drag, letting the smoke tumble from his lips as he tucked the lighter back in his pocket and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth by two fingers.

The couple stared at each other as if waiting for the other to speak first.

They didn’t need to as Jack and Zach brought over their plates and set them in front of each of them.

“Can we get you anything else?” Zach asked.

Corbyn waved his hand to get him to leave but Loretta replied with a gentle, “No, we’re fine, Zach. Thank you.”

Jack and Zach shuffled back off to let them eat in peace. Or what was as peaceful as it seemed it was going to get.

“Dammit. I just lit this.” Corbyn grumbled as he stamped out his cigarette in the ash tray on the table. He then grabbed his fork and knife and dug in right away.

Loretta picked up her fork but let it hover in the air for a moment as she watched her boyfriend take his first bite. He chewed, humming contentedly at the flavour. Loretta didn’t taste anything.

She looked down to her roast beef and suddenly didn’t feel hungry. She set her fork back on the table and folded her hands in her lap.

Corbyn glanced up at her mid bite and flicked his eyes between her flat expression and her untouched lunch, “You better eat that or I’ll have you pay for it yourself.”

Loretta ignored him, staring down at her lap as she fiddled with the ribbon of her dress around her waist.

Corbyn sighed, taking a drink of his pop to washdown his mouthful before speaking, “What’s with your attitude, Loretta?”

She answered before she could think it through, “Why are we lying to each other, Corbs? Why are we making each other miserable?”

Corbyn frowned for a moment and rested his elbows on the table to lean towards her, “What are you talking about?”

His grey eyes were narrowed in her direction, his jaw clenched.

Loretta wasn’t scared of him or his intense stare; she only laughed humourlessly, shaking her head slightly, “I think you know just as well as I do what I’m talking about.”

“No. I don’t.”

Loretta pushed her plate away from her to rest her folded hands on the tabletop, “We’re not soulmates, Corbyn, and we both know it but we’re too scared to admit that to each other.”

Corbyn’s eyebrows furrowed and he sat back a little, clearing his throat, “What…why…why are you saying that?”

“When I turned eighteen, I realized you weren’t my soulmate but I was too crazy about you to tell you the truth. It’s been a few months now and I tried to ignore it but I cannot anymore. I want you to tell me the truth. Am I your soulmate?”

Corbyn dropped his gaze to the table.

“Corbyn. Tell me the truth.” Loretta said sternly.

He licked his lips slowly in thought, raising his eyes up to hers again and he tapped his fingertips on the top of the table anxiously for a second. He took a shaking breath, “No…you’re…you’re not.”

Loretta knew it was coming but she still felt like it was a stab to her heart and she stumbled over her next breath.

The two fell into silence for a moment. Corbyn set his elbows back on the table and held his face in his hands through a deep exhale. The let the news rest heavy over their diner table.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Loretta breathed.

“Because I loved you.” Corbyn admitted softly. “I wanted to wait until you turned eighteen because maybe it wouldn’t work properly until we were both of age. Then you told me that I was yours and I just…I felt like I was…fucked up or something.”

“Me too.” Loretta said. “I didn’t want to lose you…I had those rose-coloured glasses for the first bit of our relationship.”

Corbyn cracked a small smile in agreement but it faded nearly just as quickly as it was formed. Neither spoke for another moment.

Corbyn sat back against the booth and raised his eyes up to her again, “So is he really your soulmate?”

Loretta nodded slightly, waiting for him to start to yell, but he didn’t. Corbyn only ran his hands over his face again with a heavy sigh.

“I don’t want to lose you, Lori.” Corbyn mumbled.

“I didn’t want to lose you either.” Loretta said, “But it’s so different now…the universe is literally forcing us together and…now…with him so far away it’s like…I have no energy.”

“You can’t biologically function without him now.” Corbyn stated the known fact.

Loretta nodded sadly.

Corbyn did too.

A beat of silence.

Loretta reached for her necklace and carefully unclasped the chain around her neck and held it out to him, “I’m sorry.”

Corbyn took a shuttering breath and shrugged as coolly as he could manage as he took his ring back from her, “Not your fault.”

Loretta picked up her small purse from the booth beside her and opened it with trembling hands, pulling out a few dollar bills to pass over to him, “For lunch.”

“No.” Corbyn gently pushed her hand back. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Corbyn pulled a tight smile, struggling to keep looking at her in fear of completely breaking down, “Just…get outta here.”

Loretta didn’t move for a moment, as if it was the last time she was ever going to see him in her life. She nodded once and got up from the booth, stopping to press a kiss to his cheek without another word and rushed towards the front counter. Corbyn watched her go.

Jack and Zach were startled to see her stood right in front of them, her green eyes full of so many emotions that neither of them could read off of her.

Loretta flicked her eyes between the both of them before taking a nervous inhale and speaking strongly, “I need you guys to do me a huge favour and drive me upstate. Right now.”

#🍓#soulmate au #soulmate!wdw #daniel seavey #corbyn besson #jack avery #zach herron #jonah marais #why dont we #why dont we fanfic #1950s #daniel seavey fanfic #au

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unicyclehippo · 4 years

Note

jester giving yasha a special pastry/a pretty flower post-obann

there’s a quiet knock at the door of the room she is sharing with jester and beau, though beau of course is not there. she has been...avoiding yasha is not correct, because she is not, but the way beau slips like a falling star into the room, into her bed—blink and you miss her, and the same accompanying disappointment drops into her gut when yasha hears jester cheerfully announce that she had seen the other woman—is part avoidance, maybe.

that is how yasha knows that the knock is not beau. and the cheerful pattern to it leaves only one other.

‘jester?’

‘it’s me!’

‘you—you can come in, it is your room,’ yasha calls, though she crosses the room anyway to open the door. a hand on magician’s judge. just...just in case. in case it is a trick. but she pulls the door open and sees, yes, it is jester standing there at the door, beaming, with something hidden behind her back.

another drop of pain. disappointment. she is a reservoir of it, she is full of pain, and wishes the drops would go unnoticed. but it seems she is cursed to notice each and every one. sometimes, she doesn’t know why. this one is molly. seeing jester’s tail wandering in excitable trails behind her, the jewellery dripping from her horns, the fearless and bright smile...she is a reminder in all the best ways of molly.

‘hallo, jester.’

‘hallo!’ jester’s smile grows. ‘can i come in?’

‘it’s your room, jester,’

‘i’m taking that as a yes!’ she announces and laughs, skipping inside and ducking around her in such a way that yasha doesn’t get to see what she is holding.

glancing out into the hall, left then right, eyes skimming carefully over the ceiling, yasha pulls back into the room.

the check didn’t go unnoticed by jester but she doesn’t seem to mind. maybe she does. yasha is historically...not the best at seeing intent. or upset. when it is not clear. people in the empire—people not of her own kind—they are confusing and speak around everything, and expect her to understand. the marshes were simpler. if someone had been upset with her, they would have tried to kill her.

for the first time in a long time, yasha is really and truly glad that she is not there. she does not want to kill anyone. for a little while, at least.

‘okay so before i give you this,’

‘a gift?’

‘yeah!’

‘oh, jester, no, you do not have to do this,’

‘but i already have so you have to accept it, otherwise—well,’ jester blinks. her smile falls a little before returning twice as bright. ‘well, no one else is going to eat it!’

‘eat it?’

‘ah shit!’ jester shakes her head, jewellery jangling. ‘okay, yes, it’s a cupcake,’ she admits, begrudgingly. like she was looking forward to drawing it out a little.

‘i can pretend i don’t know,’ yasha offers. ‘it is easy. i can just,’ she opens her mouth into an o of surprise, arches her brows. takes a half step back like someone is trying to ambush her, catch her off guard.

the combined effect has jester laughing. she tilts her head to the side when she’s done, looks up at yasha from beneath dark lashes. a fond little smile sits in the corner of her lips, dimpling her cheeks. ‘okay,’ she agrees. ‘but first, i think they got the wrong idea for who these were for because i asked for, like, some specific decoration so...’ she steps away from the table and waves yasha forward.

approaching the little box, yasha lifts the lid. stares down at the small cakes. probably for quite some time before jester has slid up beside her and asks,

‘do you like them? they definitely thought it was for a dog, i think, so i am sorry about that,’ she says, nose crinkling, looking down at the white icing shaped into a generic bone. ‘but the flowers turned out pretty!’

yasha stands there and stares—six little cakes, bought for her, even after everything. sweet little cakes of absolute nonsense, two with bones and she thinks she sees flecks of blood painted on which, okay, is a little disturbing but very on brand. the other four are rather lovely different flower shapes.

‘oh, look at this,’ yasha breathes, reaches a finger down toward one cake that has small paper flowers artfully arranged around it. ‘jester,’

‘do you like them? do you?’

‘i- i do. thank you, jester, you didn’t have to do this.’

‘it’s like a welcome home,’ the girl says with a smile, a delicate shrug.

‘well, thank you. do you—want to share one?’

yasha reaches down for one of the floral cakes. tears it indelicately in two. she hands one half to jester and examines the other one. tasting it, she finds it is very sweet—like the sweet apple she had had that time in zadash, but also nothing alike because she tastes neither caramel nor apple.

‘so, how are you liking being back?’ jester asks, sitting herself on the table, feet kicking as she picks at the cake and licks the icing off her thumb.

‘it’s very nice. it is—strange.’

‘how come?’

yasha shrugs. pretends to examine the cakes some more. ‘i am...sometimes afraid that i am still asleep. that i will wake up and still be with him.’

‘oh.’

hearing the note in jester’s voice, she shakes her head, offers up a smile. ‘not all the time. just...when it is too quiet. or when i am alone. i was always...by myself. in the dreams.’

‘well, i’ll just have to be with you all the time then!’ jester offers.

yasha doesn’t mean to be hurtful when she says it, but she is good at hurting people. accidentally seems to be her forte. ‘it will have to be you. no one else wants to.’ she squeezes her eyes shut, waves her hand in a, no, ignore that, kind of way. ‘that is not—i would be happy to have you keep me company,’

‘yasha,’

‘that is very kind of you to offer.’

‘i’m sorry the others are being assholes,’ jester says, and doesn’t soften the word with a laugh or a smile or anything. she’s finished her half of the cake and wipes her hands on her skirts, stares down at her lap and the symbol of the traveller on her belt that she fiddles with. ‘they just need some time.’

‘i know.’

‘it was hard,’ jester tells her. ‘fjord—‘

‘i hurt him. i remember. i remember all of it.’

jester nods. ‘nott is okay with you, i think. she was there that night, when you had that dream? after we cleared up the giants house.’

‘yah.’

‘she’s just worried about caleb. and caleb is totally out of it, so you have to excuse him for not checking in on you, and caduceus would totally be here but he knows that i’m here and super trusts me with like, healing and stuff. and also he’s working with fjord on being a wild man,’

‘a what?’

‘like, a priest or whatever for melora.’

‘oh.’

‘yeah, fjord also broke away from his super powerful scary thing too, so, you have that in common.’

‘i will be sure to bring it up,’ yasha says dryly. ‘when we are trying to bond.’

jester pulls a face. ‘oh i don’t know about that,’

‘that was a joke.’

‘oh.’

yasha drums her fingers on her belt. jester doesn’t make eye contact, peering over at the cupcakes like she hasn’t a care in the world. the tail is a giveaway—coiled tight around her own ankle, the very tip of it swishing anxiously through the air.

‘and beau?’ she asks.

jester drags in a breath. lifts her eyes from the box to meet yasha’s, but can’t hold it for long. it was long enough that yasha saw enough in them. nothing good.

‘she...might take a little while,’ jester admits. ‘beau is—i mean, she’s beau, so who knows what she’s doing or who she’s talking to. right? she’s probably super busy being cool and smart,’

‘i do not blame her. i—‘ yasha glances over to the empty bedroll. the raiments are tucked away but yasha sees them in those arrays of blue. ‘i have done some very bad things,’

‘obann made you do it!’

‘i am never sure of that.’

there is a long moment of silence. ‘beau said that was when she knew, you know. that you were either...or under his control. that’s when i knew for sure for sure that you were under control. no doubt about it. you were crying,’ she tells yasha, as though the woman hadn’t known. ‘you didn’t want to do it, i know it. and eventually you will too. i promise.’

ice drops into the lake of hurt and pain yasha has been gathering in her belly. spreads to her edges, threatens to freeze her.

‘jester... did you see it?’

she can’t look away fast enough. there’s a flicker of something in dark eyes and then jester is smiling, a thin, tremulous smile. ‘someone had to watch out for you,’ she says, which is a yes. ‘i know the stormlord was but...everyone can use a friend. right?’

‘oh, jester,’

yasha’s voice cracks and she closes her eyes against the hot press of tears. she doesn’t know what jester might have seen but any of it, any of it would be bad. and for her to have seen her in zadash, in the cobalt soul... yasha doesn’t remember all of what she did in those fifty nine days, but that—that she will never forget.

‘i couldn’t leave you alone. beau told me what it felt like. like—‘ she hesitates. presses on. ‘like being crammed into an itty bitty box.’ yasha flinches. nods. ‘i couldn’t leave you alone.’

#cr tag #ouch and yikes sorry #tagging my stories #prompt fill

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goalcaufield · 5 years

Text

fireworks - spencer knight

request: nopeeee

based off of shawn mendes’ unreleased song: “different kind of love” :)))

like always thank you to viv for reading and keeping me sane while writing this!!

masterlist

To say you were nervous would be an understatement. I mean, how easy is it to see the boy you’ve been hopelessly in love with for your entire life after not seeing him for a year? What if he doesn’t recognize you? What if everything has changed? You didn’t even get invited to the draft with the Knights, a family that was pretty much your own. Your family knew them since before you were born — literally.

You fiddle with your hands sitting on your lap anxiously awaiting for the arrival of the Knights. Your family was having your annual 4th of July barbeque at your lake house, and like usual, the Knights were invited. But still, you haven’t seen Spencer since before he left for his final season for the NTDP. So, instead of being inside and being awkward, you were outside minding your own business while everyone else was playing yard games, swimming in the lake, or talking amongst each other.

The sliding door opens but you don't think anything much of it. It’s been opening and closing all day. “Y/N!” You hear the voice of one of the girls that was pretty much your little sisters by now. You look over your shoulder and sure enough, there’s Hannah.

“Hey Han,” You smile at her before getting up to hug her. Claire is right behind her, and stepping out last is Spencer. You can feel your chest tighten at the sight of him. The blonde hair that’s gelled back, the one strand falling down against his forehead, everything about him makes you fall head over heels for him again. He’s got the muscle shirt you love on him adorning his body paired with khaki shorts and sunglasses shielding his eyes. You can barely manage to tear your eyes away from him to hug Claire.

“Hey Y/N/N,” Spencer smiles softly at you, and you can feel your insides turning into mush and your heart beating out of your chest at just a few words. How the hell are you supposed to survive the entire night?

“Hi Spence,” You breathe out and finally wrap your arms around him. “How’ve you been? It’s been a while.”

He chuckles nervously before unwrapping his arms around you leaving you to frown at the abnormally short embrace. “Pretty good. It’s been hectic lately, but fun that’s for sure. What about you? Getting ready to go to New Hampshire soon, right?”

“Uh yeah, actually,” you nod, letting the awkwardness settle in. Spencer glances over his shoulder to see where his little sisters have run off before turning back to you.

“Do you wanna go catch up or something? Like you said, it’s been a bit. I feel like I’m missing a huge chunk of your life.”

“Oh you’re not kidding,” You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes. You had tried plenty of times to reach out to him, to try and see when he’d be back in Connecticut to get together, congratulating him after games, congratulating him after getting drafted, and not once did you get a response from him. “Yeah, let’s go down to the dock or something.”

Spencer nods and the two of you make your way through all your friends and family down to the water. That was like your spot. Whenever either of you needed to rant, you went to the dock. Need to cry? Go to the dock. Whatever happened on that dock stayed on the dock — like the many stolen kisses that had never turned into something more. You never talked about those.

“So, are you excited?” You ask as you sit down at the edge of the wood letting your feet dip into the water. Spencer is right after you and he leans back on his hands, his brushing over yours.

“For what exactly?” He glances over at you. “Because honestly, I’m terrified of both.”

Your heart clenches for the sweet boy, and you smile sadly. “Why are you scared, Spence? This is all you could’ve wanted and more. You have the opportunity to completely turn around the Panthers organization.”

Spencer sighs and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “It’s not really that. I’m scared for Boston, being away from my family again, being with guys I don’t even know, being away from you…” He trails off and gulps. “With the US program, I knew what I was walking into. Boston? I don’t have a single clue, and that’s what scares me half to death.”

“I promise you, you’re gonna be A-okay, Spencer Knight,” you give him a reassuring smile, and you hesitate before placing your hand on top of his. That makes him look over at you. “All of our lives you’ve always been able to deal with stress, with pressure, anything. And I’ve always envied that about you. College won’t be much different. And besides, Durham is only an hour away from Boston. I think I can make that drive once or twice a month to see you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” He chuckles. “Thank you, Y/N. You envy me for being able to be under stress, I envy you for being able to make people feel better so easily.”

His words have you blushing shamelessly, and all you can do is stare out at the water and smile. You fall into a comforting silence, before finally, you decide to break it. “Okay, I have to ask. Why wasn’t I invited to the draft?”

Spencer hesitates, and you’re ready to get up and leave right then and there. “Listen to me, okay?” He looks over at you, and you’re sure he can see the pain in your eyes. “I wanted to invite you, I really did. You were the first person I wanted to ask you to come, because you were the one that deserved to the most–”

“Yeah, I did,” You scoff. “I was the one that sacrificed almost every weekend to be with you at your tournaments when we were little. I froze my little butt off. I wore all of your jerseys at some point in my life. My whole life revolved around watching you play and getting to the point of being drafted. And how do you repay me? By not inviting me to your own draft. I wasn’t expecting to sit with you guys, either. I would’ve been fine sitting up in the nosebleeds.”

“I wanted to invite you, Y/N/N. I really did. But Sydney thought it would be too weird,” Spencer slides his sunglasses to the top of his head, and you can see the distraught look in his eyes. But there’s a lump growing in your throat making it hard to swallow and hard to breathe.

“Who’s Sydney?” You clear your throat in an attempt to get rid of the lump. Of course you know who Sydney is. There’s no denying who she is.

“Uh, she’s uh, my girlfriend.”

You nod your head, pursing your lips to look out towards the water. You can’t exactly look at Spencer in that moment. “That’s nice.”

“Why do you feel like you’re upset now?” Spencer asks and he grabs your hand. You want to yank it away, but the feeling of his hand in yours is something you’ve missed and you can’t bring yourself to do it. “She was jealous of you, Y/N/N. She was so jealous of the photos I had of you in my room, in my camera roll. Hell, a photo of us was my lock screen since I left. You know that. She hated it, and I know it was a shitty thing to do, and I know there’s nothing that will make up for that. But I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“She makes you happy, right?” You ask and he nods.

“Yeah, yeah she does,” He sighs. Now it’s his turn to purse his lips and look out at the water. “Oh who am I kidding. Why am I lying to you? Why are we lying to ourselves?”

You nearly give yourself whiplash from turning to look at him so fast. “What-What are you saying?”

“You make me so much more happier,” He says finally, and you didn’t know you needed to hear those words until they left his lips. “You and me, we were always together. We always had to tell people we weren’t dating, but god, I wanted to date you. The boys teased me all the time about you, and I guess I was so fed up with the fact we weren’t together I had to end that somehow. So I started dating Sydney instead. God, I hate myself for never asking you out. I couldn’t tell you how many times we kissed on this dock in this exact spot, or how many times I had to bite my tongue from telling you that I love you. It was always you, Y/N. Always you.”

You’re almost in tears at his words because you had waited so, so long to hear them. “Spencer Knight, I have been in love with you since we were eight years old. And I know that in twenty years from now I will still feel the same way I did then, the same way I did yesterday, and the same way I will feel tomorrow.”

Before Spencer can answer you, you hear the sound of footsteps running towards you guys on the wood. You both turn around and there’s the youngest Knight making her way towards you guys.

“It’s time for food, guys!”

Spencer gives you a look and you both sigh before he gets up, offering his hand to you. For the rest of dinner Spencer and you are pretty much inseparable. His hand is somehow on you the entire time, but hey, you aren’t complaining.

When it starts getting darker that’s when everyone makes their way towards the water for fireworks. Some people take floats out into the lake, some grab towels or blankets to sit on the grass, but you and Spencer? You’re on the dock, of course. Your head is resting on his shoulder and he has his arm around you keeping you close to him as you wait for the fireworks to begin.

“You know,” Spencer starts and you look up at him through your eyelashes. “We didn’t go swimming at all today.”

“I can change that,” You giggle and Spencer gives you a look. You’re quick to jump to your feet, but so is he. He’s got his back to the water, and with one good push you should be able to shove him into the water.

“Y/N, if I go down you’re going down with me.”

“Are you sure about that, Knighter?” You challenge, walking closer with your hands out. With one shove Spencer is falling backwards into the water, but not without grabbing your hand first.

You both fall into the water and you immediately cling to Spencer’s body in the cold. He’s laughing against you and that’s when you realize your close proximity. He realizes it too, and his laughter ceases.

“I told you,” Spencer practically whispers, his arms wrapping around your waist while his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips.

“Spencer,” You whisper, and his eyes meet yours to urge you to continue. “Kiss me.”

That’s all he needs before he presses his lips to yours. Your lips move together harshly, because it’s been way too long since the last time you’ve kissed. Your hands tangle in his hair and his pull you impossibly closer to him while the fireworks begin going off. But you couldn’t possibly be bothered, because now he was yours. Finally yours.

#spencer knight #hockey #nhl #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #florida panthers #usntdp #ntdp #team usa #usa hockey

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treasure-my-aurora · 5 years

Text

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door

A/n: Just to be clear, this is not a y/n fic because I seriously can't write in "you" form (or whatever you call it) to save my life. Oc/reader is scandinavian because a major plot point is her blonde hair and blue eyes. Sorry not sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This can be read as a seperate work but there is a refrence in it that comes from my previous work, 'Making Love Out of Nothing at All' so please check that out first if you haven't ♥

Pairing: Hongjoong / fem!Reader

Genre: Porn with Plot, fluffy af

Summary: I worked shifts in a small club underneath a 4-star hotel in the middle of Seoul, as a hostess. I wasn’t a prostitute, my main job was to entertain, serve drinks and host events. But I wasn’t allowed to decline if someone wanted a private session. The clock neared midnight a hot wednesday evening the 10th of July and my hope of getting a good days pay was dissapearing with every minute. But the anxious feeling in my stomach was interrupted when a group of eight almost fell through the entrence door and one certain red haired promised that he'd make my night.

I thanked the power of air conditioning for the hundredth time that day. It was hot outside, the summer sun cooked anything underneath its beams, and I squirmed, uncomfortably in the white Qipao dress I was wearing. The fabric hugged my body, with golden details and embroidery that made my pale skin shine, packing it tight and I swallowed again, contemplating if I should just excuse myself for a few minutes to push a finger down my throat and throw up my lunch because I was fighting to keep it down anyway. “Hey you!” A man’s voice echoed between the walls of the booth I was serving, and the snap of his fingers made me flinch, “You don’t get paid to just stand there and look pretty, serve me my drink or get me someone who can” I felt my face flush, thankful that my make-up covered it and set down the tray of drinks I had in my hands. Rough, calloused fingers found their way to the lower parts of my thighs as I leaned over and I swallowed, repressed the vile taste that rose in my mouth. I let the action happen, not being able to do anything as the hand reached higher, touching just below my buttock. I cleared my throat, “A private session will be 121420 won” The slap against my thighs that followed made me fall forward and I nearly spilled the drinks when I caught myself on the edge of the table. I made eye contact with a co-worker and close friend, who gave me a sympathetic look, seated between two others in the company we were serving. “Don’t kid yourself woman, I will not pay that much for you” The man laughed and muttered something about foreigners while pointing at me like he couldn’t believe what I was saying. I looked down, ashamed, my hair hanging like a curtain to hide my red cheeks. I was born and raised in Korea, but my family was Scandinavian and even though I consider myself equal to the rest of the black haired and brown eyed population, many would disagree. My blonde long locks and blue eyes spoke of my difference and it’s been multiple times when I had to tell people that I could understand everything that they whispered about me. The man and his three friends roared with laughter, hands pounding the table and my co-worker clenched her jaw, so subtle that you wouldn't notice it, stress visible in her eyes as the man next to her threw his arm around her shoulders. I don’t think he meant to, but we’d been serving them for hours and they were quite drunk, and my co-worker, who couldn’t be more than 160 cm and weigh less than 50 kg was easily manhandled to the ground underneath the table. She shrieked in surprise and I signalled to the barkeeper, a big and burly man, at least 2 meters high and with biceps as thick as my thighs, who had been watching us the whole time. My heart broke from not being able to rush forward and help her out. The men’s laughter reflected on the walls and I found myself swallowing again, trying not to puke as one of the men grabbed a handful of my co-worker’s hair. Her screaming silenced by the barkeeper’s sharp open hand against the man's head, who immediately released her and jumped up, ready to give out punches to the person who’d slapped him. “You’ve had enough, leave now and there won’t be any more trouble” the barkeeper ordered and the men held up their open hands, when they realised that they it wasn’t worth getting their asses beaten, an innocent look on their faces and they got up from their seats. The one that had slapped my thigh, grabbed my chin forcefully, coming disgustingly close to my face, “I’m not done with you yet; you better be careful. I didn’t get to finish my beer. I’d sleep with one eye open tonight if I were you” I flinched at his breath, the smell of cheap vodka burned my nostrils and he chuckled before spitting on the floor in front of me before he grabbed his coat to join the others. My co-worker stumbled over to me and I invited her in my arms, “Let’s get you cleaned up” I said while patting her back and gave the barkeeper a thankful look before I lead her to a private toilet at the back, behind the bar. We worked shifts in a small club underneath a 4-star hotel in the middle of Seoul, as hostesses. My employer owned the club and was brother with the barkeeper who just helped us. I wasn’t a prostitute, my main job was to entertain, serve drinks and host events. But I wasn’t allowed to decline if someone wanted a private session. The prices ranged between 121420 won to 2428400 won, depending on what kind of session it was and even though it was rare, only twice or thrice a week, I wasn’t always happy with it. I enjoyed sex, I enjoyed when men (and women) worshipped my body, taking me and using me to get themselves of. It was empowering, most of the time and it gave me a hell of an ego boost. It was safe, we always used protection, got tested regularly and the barkeeper had his eyes on us and was sure that we escaped a worse fate than what just happened to my co-worker. But there would always be people who thought they were entitled to one more session, one more dance, one more drink and that’s where things could get dangerous. Just as early as last week, an 18-year-old a few blocks down, was strangled to death and I always feared that it would happen to me, or to one of the girls I was working with. I looked down at my co-worker, just barely knowing her real name and age. She was closest to me but didn't enjoy talking about things that was too private and I didn’t want to guess. Her hands trembled in her lap when I wet a towel and removed the tear smeared makeup, patting her back with comforting movements. “I hate this, I hate it” She whispered, and I hushed her, scared that someone would hear before I nodded. More tears welled up in her eyes and she looked away, down on her hands, her leg anxiously bouncing, and I let her act out her restlessness as I washed her face. I led her to our changing room and made her sit down in a chair while getting the makeup. It wasn’t complicated; some blush, mascara and a red lip and she was ready. “Are you ok?" I asked and she gave me a weak smile. I knew that she wanted to tell me that no, she wasn't and that she probably never would be, doing the work we did but those words were unspoken, and I gave her a hug instead, holding her tight. "Let’s go” I told her, and we went out again going our separate ways when she noticed one of our regulars. It was getting late, closing in on midnight and I fiddled with the hem of my dress nervously, prepared to greet the next client that walked through the door. It was a Wednesday and we didn’t count on much more activity. Just the usual regulars and me, not exactly being new but still one of the newest, had most of my regulars throughout the weekend. One of my other co-workers walked up and joined me on the lowest step, watching the door three steps up and gave my arm a squeeze. I thought for a second that she’d joined me for my company, but the door opened just as the clock hit 11:10 and one of her regulars walked in. She gave me a small smile before leading him directly to the back, knowing his schedule and what he wanted by now. I sighed, feeling how my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. I’d made enough today to eat and pay my rent, but tomorrow was Thursday and those days were even slower than today had been. If no one would enter by 12 am I’d have to seduce someone first thing tomorrow and though I didn’t mind the sex, the seducing part, the part when I felt that I wasn’t in control, scared me. 11:30 and my back hurt as I arched it, needed to constantly carry my body in that beautiful S shaped form. Suddenly several clamping feet over the floor above me, interrupted my concentration and my heart jumped as the door opened and a whole gang of eight entered. I forced down my shoulders so that I wouldn’t look tense, clasped my hands over my midriff in the same way a prude princess from a fairy tale would. Lips curled up in a way that invited to conversation, eyes open and curious. Lovable, sweet and gorgeous, honey sweet with my blonde hair and white Qipao. “Damn look at you” One of them, with a silver blonde bowl cut said, his eyes scanning me from top to bottom and I gave him a brilliant smile, “Hyung, I don’t think that you need to look much further. If you don’t choose her, I might do” he continued and I couldn’t help but smirk, it wasn’t rare for me to see one or two K-pop groups come by, and this moment was one of those times where it was so obvious that K-pop was their profession. Their hair colours ranged from the silver blonde, to light brown, black, blue, red and the blonde that had been called ‘Hyung’. My work came with secrecy and I could only observe in silence as the beautiful men (and occasional women) that ruled our music industry released weeks and sometimes months of training and stress from world tours and comebacks in our laps. I didn’t complain, almost teary eyed with happiness as the anxiety I’d been feeling in my stomach disappeared when I realized their intentions as they flocked around me, like dogs around a treat and I felt my cheeks flush when the blonde that had been called Hyung looked at me with hungry eyes. The bar keeper’s voice thundered down on us, suggested them a table and something to drink and the group dissolved around me just as my co-worker from before joined me, being done with her client. “How’s your scalp?” I asked, not looking at her because my focus was supposed to be on the group that just entered. I could hear her scoff out a small laugh though, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her Qipao, hers a gorgeous green that matched her eyes. She’d accidently spilled that she had roots in England over a glass wine too many just over a year ago. Her grandmother an immigrant and though the red hair that she used to have wasn’t passed down to my co-worker, she considered herself lucky enough with the exotic eye colour. “I’m fine, thank you” She whispered just as the blonde whistled. “You, you’re going to join me later” He pointed at me and I gulped at the sudden proposal. My co-worker sighed beside me in defeat, she needed the money just as much as me and after everything that had happened to her today, I felt like she deserved a treat. It wasn’t a secret that idols where the best kind of clients, all of them young and fit with almost endless stamina and most of them just wanted casual sex, nothing too complicated and were generally generous back. I couldn’t help but smile big, putting my hand on her back and pushing her slightly forward, “Why settle with just one when you can have two?” I asked and the blondes smile disappeared. My request made his mouth fall open; eyes wide with surprise that it was even an option. His friends hit him on the back, screaming for no apparent reason and I wondered how much sugar they must’ve mixed with alcohol before coming here. Their energy was insane, and I would’ve taken a step back if it wasn’t for the positivity they radiated. “Can I just pipe in with one thing” One of the guys, the smaller with light brown hair and delicate features, “It’s San’s birthday and of course he deserves the best but…” He turned to the red head across the table, “Our leader deserves something nice as well, Aurora has received amazing support and I think that he did a really nice job” I suppressed the reflex of raising my brows as the leader, who I first thought was the maknae rose up and bowed to the small applause that followed. “Winner gets the blonde” the black haired screamed and a couple of people in the club looked over at the spectacle as the apparent Hyung and leader proceeded to play rock, paper, scissors. It was close but, in the end, the red head was victorious with 3-2. He downed the shot that had been placed at their table at their arrival and scooted past the blondes upset face, extended his hand for me to take and said, “Shall we"?” Before sticking his tongue out at his friends. I bit down on my lips, suppressing a giggle because it would be inappropriate to show any sort of enjoyment from their game. I turned around just as we rounded the corner to see my co-worker smiling as the blonde haired; San, quickly got up, not slow to show her everything he first intended to show me, spun her around and dipped her, her laughter bounced on the walls and I smiled to myself while leading the red haired to my room. He closed the door behind him, and the sudden silence was deafening, my slightly soundproof walls just picked up the beat of the music. He sat down on the bed, smoothed out the white linen and I propped myself up against my wardrobe, ready to obey his every command. “I’m sorry about what just happened” He said softly, not looking up at me, the light strand above my bed softly illuminated his features and I gulped, “What that just happened?” I asked, fearing that he might call me stupid, but he just chuckled, “You’re worth much more than just three papers in a row but I just had to have you for myself. Even though it’s San’s birthday and I feel just slightly bad that I ripped him off but I just… He leaned back against his hands, eyes at the ceiling and I gulped. It has been some time since I had someone that looked so good in my bed. His skin looked so smooth it was almost ridiculous and the contrast with the red hair made it glow in the soft light. He wore a simple black t-shirt with a print that I couldn’t fully read, a blazer and matching black slacks and I almost groaned at the sight of him, “I just couldn’t lose. Not this time” He looked over at me, intensity in his eyes and I wet my lips, suddenly nervous. The feeling settled uncomfortably in my stomach and my heart jumped. It had never done that before, no matter how handsome the person in front of me were. I knew that I looked good, I was fortunate with a nearly perfect body according to most beauty standards. I was curvy but at the right places, a bit thicker than my co-workers and men, especially foreigners, seemed to love it. But even though I felt blessed now, with a healthy diet and daily exercise, I used to be bullied in school for my extra fat. My Scandinavian roots didn’t make it any better and, in the end, school was the main reason why I ran away from home. My parents had tried to understand me, but they were so busy with work that they barely even had time for each other, and I felt lost, abandoned. So, I ran, and tried to get by with a few thousand won, some clothes in a backpack and my phone. That was seven years ago, and I’d been through some bad shit since then. I quickly got addicted to alcohol and became a sex worker for almost four years after I ran away. It was a literal hell hole to climb out of and I lost a whole year to a battle I never ever want to experience again. Quite quickly after that, I moved to another part of Seoul, wanting to start anew. I found a contact who knew one of my old co-worker’s. She set me up where I was working now and even though some would argue that it was basically the same job, there hasn’t been a day where I regret my decision. I have another purpose than just being a body to fuck. I’ve been trained in the art of standing still for hours, never breaking my smile and never waver from my position. I learned how to elegantly walk with a tray of drinks, how to talk, sit, laugh and move properly and I like to think that I am good at my job, having most of my clients from Friday to Monday when it’s busiest and most of them were people who wanted to just get a quick fix, be it attention, affection or sex. The age range is big, from rich middle-aged agents looking for someone to dominate them for a chance, unhappily married middle class office workers, poor students who only increased their debts and the occasional group of idols who came in to blow out some steam. “Why?” I asked, coming back from my train of thought and the man chuckled, and I had to bite back a smile as his eyes squinted and a perfect set of white teeth were revealed, “You really want me to say it, don’t you?” He had something teasing in his voice and I could feel my heart jump again, “Yes… tell me why you couldn’t lose” My voice was low, and my body writhed slightly against my arms that were locked against the closet I was leaning against. He got up, slowly, like a carnivore ready to attack its prey and I gasped at the duality of him. One moment he was sweet, squinted eyes and a big smile and now I had to lean back, as if his presence had grown a meter. He managed to look down on me even though he couldn’t be more than a decimetre taller and I felt my body quaking before him. He licked his lips and stepped into my intimate zone just half a meter or so from my face. “I knew that I wanted you since the very second I saw you. You are special... reminding me of someone I met a few months ago” Something sad shadowed his features and I felt my heart drop, realising that I wasn’t special because I was me but because I was like somebody else. “Who was she?” I asked quietly, determined not to let his words hurt my ego and he sighed, pulling his fingers through his hair, “Just a fan really, but she taught me a lot. About what to do, what to say…” He trailed off and bit his lips, “She was my noona, are you as well?” I swallowed. Damn these younger groups and their age kinks. I clenched my jaw, “How old are you?” I asked and crossed my arms across my chest, determined not to let him push me around if he was younger than me, “21” He answered, and my heart picked up harshly in my chest, “Then I’m your noona” I said, and I could swear that something glazed over his eyes. He took another step forward, but I put a hand on his chest to stop him from going any further. He flinched slightly as if I burned him, but I kept my hand in place, feeling the muscles under his shirt clench and I swallowed again, my mouth dry and I could feel my stomach doing somersaults. I collected myself, cleared my throat and then said as definite as I could, my voice still shaking a little, “One basic session is 121420 won for 30 minutes and then prices range up, depending on how nasty you like it” He only nodded as if he wasn’t interested in either how much it would cost him or much time we had and placed a warm hand on my waist, thumb pressing on my hip bone. I shivered involuntarily and he flushed his body against me, all lean strong muscles and soft skin and I bit my lower lip. “What’s your name?” I asked, my voice but a whisper and he smirked, “Hongjoong” Before meeting my lips in a soft kiss. I groaned against him and he smiled between the kisses as if he knew the impact he already had on me, his hands traveling up my sides to my throat and my breath hitched as he cupped my face and deepened the kiss, licking his way into my mouth. I tasted the shot he’d taken earlier on his tongue and underneath that, traces of strawberries from a previous drink. He consumed me, pushed me against the wardrobe with his body weight. His taste, the smell of his cologne and his body against mine made my heart pound. I’d fucked hundreds of men, kissed even more and it was rare that I felt the sweet feeling of butterflies in my stomach. This was one of those moments though and I could feel my body flush with excitement as he pushed one knee between mine, softly separating them and grinded agonizingly slow against me. I gulped at the apparent boner poking against my thigh and he chuckled when he realised that I’d noticed. I placed my hands on his chest, my want and lust overshadowed any kind of soft foreplay and he gasped as I pulled his blazer over his shoulders, the fabric of it softly crinkling as it hit the floor. I broke away from his lips and pressed him closer to me, placing kisses from the corner of his mouth, down his cheek to his throat and I could feel him swallow as I nibbled over the big artery on the side of his neck. A groan escaped his lips from the teasing, and I pushed him backwards, the back of his legs hit the bed before he fell. His back hit the bed first with a small thump and I bit my lip to suppress a giggle as he gave out a small surprised yelp. He raised himself up on his elbows and I swallowed, serious again as my hands reached for the buttons of my Qipao. I’d done this more times than I could remember and yet, this time hit differently. There was an almost intimate feeling between us, and he cocked his head to one side, biting his tongue and his hooded eyes met mine as I slid the dress off my shoulders, letting it pool around my ankles, revealing a white lace set. “God, noona… you’re gorgeous” He said, voice almost a whimper and I bit my lip when I noticed his cock twitching from anticipation in his black slacks. His legs rested on the side of the low bed and I twirled a lock of hair between my fingers, watched as his chest rose with every fast inhale, “Tell me what you want me to do” I said, voice sugar sweet and he groaned softly, eyes rolling as he popped open the button on his slacks, “I want you to suck me off noona, please? I promise I’ll do you after if you want, I just need…” I didn’t hesitate for a second as soon as he gave me the command, dropped to my knees and earned a small gasp of surprise when I unzipped him and pulled down the slacks and underwear to his midthigh in an instant. My mouth watered, breath hitched, and I could feel my heart pounding in my ears as my hand closed around the girth of his cock, “…need some release” He breathed out the rest of his sentence as he threw his head back when I pumped him lazily, feeling how he grew harder under my touch, inspecting how his facial expressions changed to see how I could get him off best. “Please” He whined, hands reaching out to touch my cheek and I looked up at him, confused. His brows furrowed, bottom lip between his teeth and his fingers pulled on my hair, downward and I understood that teasing wasn’t really his thing. I paused my movements and locked my gaze with him, watching as his mouth fell open when my tongue flicked out. I lapped the head of his cock a few times, feeling how my panties got soaked as a low guttural moan escaped his throat. The salty taste of pre-cum laid heavy on my tongue as I took him in my mouth and swallowed, letting him hit the back of my throat, my gag reflex non-existent from doing this for years and he choked out a sob, grabbing my hair forcefully but I didn’t mind. I loved the taste, loved the weight of him on my tongue and I placed my hands around his hip, pushing him down as my nose bumped onto his pubic bone. I hollow my cheeks and came up for air, bobbing down his length and licking my way up, dipping my tongue into the slit at the top and he was a writing mess underneath me, one hand thrown over his eyes, panting breaths escaping his mouth and his other hand tangled in my hair, holding me in place. I swallowed down around him again and his chest heaved with irregular breathing and I could feel him holding back his need for release. I let go of his hips, placing my hand on the sides of his thighs instead, pulling his hips upward a few times and he quickly got the idea. A deep choked out growl made me squirm and I could feel how saliva coated my chin as he thrusted into my throat, first carefully, as if he was scared that he’d hurt me but I’d been through worse and he got bolder, pushing my head down to meet his thrusts and I could feel my eyes tearing up from the raw friction as he fucked my throat, using me to get himself off. My arousal burned between my legs with the confirmation that I got him into the moaning mess he was underneath me. I was the one who got him panting and gasping and moaning for release. “Noona… I…. I’m…” He gasped, pulling on the sheet with his free hand, thighs shaking, and I swallowed around him again, his thrusting irregular and offbeat and I knew he was close. I kept him there, moaning at his desperation and the vibrations of it set him off him and he came undone, mouth falling open, head thrown back and body freezing and then shuddering as hot spurts of cum filled my throat. I groaned at the surprisingly sweet taste, fantasized that maybe he’d been planning on getting here and have been on a strict diet of fruit all day for my enjoyment. He shook, and I let him ride out his orgasm before letting him go and leaned back to see what I’d done to him, reaching for a napkin on the windowsill to clean myself up. I watched him as he came back from his high, beautiful as a painting, face and neck flushed a gorgeous pink, his lips red from biting onto them too hard and cock still twitching. I tossed the napkin away and he looked up at me with drunken eyes. “Wow, I needed that” He said, and I smiled back, just happy to help. I sat up again in front of him, my hands resting on my knees, ready for him to give me another command. “What are you waiting for?” He asked, puzzled as he sat back up, looking down on me from the edge of the bed. “What do you want me to do?” I asked again, my job was to please, and I didn't want to make any decisions for him. His eyebrows rose in a ‘huh’ expression and he leaned back against his hands, “Undress for me” he said, a smirk on his lips and I swallowed, standing up. My hands reached back, and I unclasped my bra, keeping eye contact with him and he deflated like a balloon when my breast sprung free and I pulled down my panties. A low gasp fell from his lips when he saw me standing there, naked as the day I was born. My hands fiddled with each other and I felt how my heart skipped a beat. My skin flushed from arousal and I looked away, suddenly shy from his gaze as he looked at me like he wanted to devour me. There was a clear stain on the inside of my thigh where my wetness escaped my cunt and Hongjoong smirked when the light behind him reflected in it. His ego blew up like a fire when he realized the influence he had on me. It filled the room, suffocating me and I involuntarily took a step back when he got up. He stepped out of his slacks and underwear and pulled the t-shirt over his head in one swift movement and I felt my breath hitch in my throat as he stepped into my intimate zone, putting his arms around my waist and pushing my naked body against his. His touch send electric jolts through my skin and goose bumps made my skin prickle and nipples harden and he cupped my breasts, delighted to see such a reaction from me. I let out a whiny moan and looked away as he teased one bud between his fingertips, his other hand moving up to my throat and I swallowed, my heart beating so hard I that I was sure he could hear it. “Come” he said softly and lead me to the bed again. He pushed me down softly with a hand on my chest so that I lay on my back, much like he’d done just a moment ago and I felt like my heart was going to burst when he laid down between my separated legs, pressing his body weight on me again. He cupped my face, softly and I sobbed silently against his lips when they met mine in a chaste kiss. I’d never experienced that someone wanted to take it so slow. To just enjoy me and my company. Most of the men I was with would be done by now, not giving me a second glance and here he was, Hongjoong, looking down at me like he saw through me. Past the fact that we only had a moment, the fact that he would pay me when he was satisfied, the fact that he was just one of many. He saw me, my personality, my insecurities, my passion and lust for him at this moment and I could feel how he radiated from satisfaction that he made me feel as hopelessly lost to him as I made him feel lost to me. His hand travelled from my sides, up my neck to my cheek and he cupped them, looking into my eyes and I could feel his chest rising and sinking against mine. “God, I’ve missed this” He whispered and leaned down to kiss my lips again, another slow chaste one and placed his thumb on my lower lip, carefully pushed it between my teeth into my mouth. His tongue flicked out, tasting my lower lip before slipping it into my mouth in an open kiss. My own tongue met his and it was wet and messy, and I loved it, my body writing underneath his as I felt my arousal tick like a small bomb between my legs. He groaned when tasting the traces of himself on my lips and I gasped as his hand flicked over my right nipple. He squeezed my breast, kneading it hard, a desperate gasp escaping his lips and he grinded down heavily on me with his body as if he wanted to disappear within me. His already half hard cock poked at my thigh and I spread my legs wider to allow him to sink closer to me. “You’re going to be the death of me, Jagi” He moaned and I swallowed, feeling how my eyes teared up to the sweet nickname, something you only called someone you really liked, someone beloved and the butterflies that was flying around in my stomach picked up their speed. He paused, sensing the difference in the energy I emitted, and his brows furrowed when he saw my emotional state. “Wha-?” “Call me Jagi again” I begged, and he smiled, scoffing out a small laugh and brushed the hair from my face. “My beautiful Jagi, who’s made me all hot and bothered” I stuck my tongue out as he teased me. “Do you like me all sweet and smiley, Jagi? He continued in a voice dipped in honey as his hand travelled down between my legs and I gasped when he put his hand flat on my vulva, “Or do you want me to take control? How much do you want me Jagi?” he asked, voice dropping an octave and I swallowed, excited that his nature could switch so fast, “Tell me” he breathed into my ear and I shivered with wanton lust, my thighs rubbing his hips and he grinded slowly against me, the underside of his cock rubbing my clit in slow movements as his fingers separated the folds and he shook with the need to restrain himself from plunging into me. I was so wet that he glided over me, the delightful burning pleasure made me choke on my breath, “Tell me how much you want me; how much you want me to destroy you” I wasn’t one for begging, preferring the men I slept with to beg for me. Loving the feeling of being in control of their need, their release but I couldn’t help but squirm under Hongjoong’s gaze, his eyes so black that the sweet brown was just a thin circle around his eyes. “I want you to fuck me, want you to take me and use me until you are completely spent. I want you to walk out of here knowing that you’ve left me drenched in your cum” He inhaled sharply as I played out the scene of him using me and I could feel his cock twitching between our bodies. “Play with yourself Jagi… I want to watch you lose control” I whined out a gasp, biting my lower lip and I grabbed my breast, flicking my nipples between my fingers and my heart jumped with excitement as his eyebrows raised and he motioned for me to move my hands lower. My fingers stroked down my sides and I bit my lip as they reached my legs, rubbing my inner thighs. He leaned back to see properly, and I inhaled sharply at his figure. He was more turned on than I’d guessed, cock already angry red and blood filled. Rock hard and pointing proudly against his belly button and I shuddered from need as I raised my legs to wrap them against his hips. My fingers reached their destination and I pressed down on my clit softly, my back arched as pleasure shot through my body. “Damn Jagi, look at you” He moaned and wrapped his hand around his cock, not able to contain himself at the sight of me, melting under his own touch and I gasped out a breathy moan as his head fell back. He tugged on himself a few times, beads of pre-cum smearing over his clasped hand, panting increasing and I lazily stroked my clit while watching him, my heart beating hard in my ears and I couldn’t help but whine. “Hongjoong please, I need you inside me” My voice seemed to wake him up because he growled and reached over to my bedside table where the condoms were, opened one with his teeth and rolled it over his cock, hands shaking and I held his gaze as he pulled my body against his hips with a sharp tug, locked my legs around his waist, hands gripping my thighs hard as he lined up. He entered me with one swift movement of his hips, the eagerness of not letting me adjust to the size of him had me gasping and he burrowed his face in the crook of my neck when he was fully inside of me. His labored breathing in my ear and my own heartbeat was the only thing I heard, and I pushed on his lower back with the heels of my feet, making sure that he was so deep into me that he could. Not able to help myself from moving, I rolled my hips agonizingly slowly, clenching around him, teasing him and he groaned before pulling out of me, just slightly before jolting his hips forward and I held onto him as the friction made me writhe. He was deliciously slow, feeling me up and bringing me down with every snap of his hips. His hand cupped my face and his lips met mine again, all lips and tongues and playful nibbles as he thrusted harder, faster, pounding my body into the mattress and soon I was a gasping mess underneath him. “Fuck Jagi, you’re so wet” he moaned against my lips, “Feels so good…” his moan turned into a choked sob as he bit down on his lower lip, hands on my hips, pulling me down on his cock to meet his thrusts and I swore, my hands pulling on the red strands of his hair, “Touch yourself, I need you to come first” He growled against me, sitting up again and my fingers reached between us. I rubbed myself, angling my hips down and he bit his lips, a groan leaving his lips and his head cocked to the side when he looked down. My fingers spread the wetness around my clit as I rubbed myself, a small gasp escaping his throat when he watched with hooded eyes, the lips of my cunt swallowing him down, over and over again and I moaned, loved seeing him coming undone from the sight of me. His body was covered in a sheen layer of sweat, chest heaving and thighs shaking but he didn’t seem like he needed to slow down at all. Quite the opposite, as he placed one hand on my chest to stabilise himself and hoisting me into his lap, leaning back, toes digging into the bed and his other hand threatening to bruise my waist and my head fell back against the pillow. I could feel my entire body move with every powerful thrust and I felt myself tipping over the edge embarrassingly fast. I clenched up and Hongjoong moaned when he felt my walls constrict around him, watching my face as I came harder than I’d done in months. “Fuck Jagi, I’d gladly pay to see you make that face again” He swore, and I choked out a chuckle. He slowed down as I came down from my high, leaning forward again to press down a kiss on my lips and I hummed against his lips, meeting his slow thrusts and enjoying the afterglow. He wrapped his right arm around me, holding himself up slightly with the other and buried his face in the crook of my neck, placing soft kisses there and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling my heart swell as we laid so close against each other. The sweet burning stretch of his thrust made me squirm with bliss and I wanted to pause time. To take a snapshot of this intimate moment to fill my mind every time I was with someone who was less giving. I swallowed as he got up again, locked his eyes with mine and the tender look he had made me want to cry. His fingers brushed my forehead and I melted against his gentle touch as he combed my hair from my face. His lips met mine again and he paused, as if he wanted to capture this moment as well and I felt my heart skip, “We don’t need to take it slow” I whispered, his forehead against mine, his hard, warm breath against my face and my fingers played with the short hair in the nape of his neck. He chuckled softly, “I know, I just wanted to give you a breather” My brows furrowed and I only caught a glimpse of a mischievous twinkle in his eyes before he pulled out and flipped me around as if I was light as paper. He hoisted my hips up and entered me again with one sharp snap of his hips and I cried into my sheets when he didn’t give me time to get used to the new position. He pounded fast into me from behind and I immediately arched my back, ass in the air, arms above my head while supporting myself on my elbows. He groaned, gripping my hip with his left hand and I bit down on my lip when he dug his fingers into my flesh, desperate and needy to claim, to control. His other hand grabbed a handful of my hair and he twisted it before pulling and my head snapped back, the sweet pain in my scalp made me choke on my breath. He pressed a sloppy kiss on the nape of my neck, kissing down my spine and I felt my skin prickle as he flushed his chest against my back. He moaned, the hand holding onto my hip traveled over the round of my ass and he kneaded my buttock harshly before bringing down his hand, flat and hard over the soft skin, the slap echoed between the walls of my room and I whined out a moan as the sharp sting shot straight to my core. “Damn, I can’t get enough of you Jagi” He gasped, voice low and husky and I groaned in response, not able to find my voice as his hand left another stinging slap on my butt cheek. I clenched around him with surprise and a thick moan left his throat, “Do that again Jagi… fuck… I’m so close” His voice erratic and I clenched around him again, loving the sounds that spilled from his lips as his thrusting became irregular, thighs shaking and his grip on my hair hardned, arching my back so that he could fuck me harder, deeper and i let out a choked sob when i felt him tensing up behind me with one last thrust and I shuddered, feeling how his cock twitched as he pushed himself balls deep into me, a whimpered growl leaving his lips as he softly bit down on my neck to stifle his moan. The motion so ancient and primal that it was on the verge of being animalistic and I felt my heart beating hard in my ears, the thumping deafening. He let go of me a moment later and i turned over to lay on my back again, winching slightly from the pain in my scalp and back. I looked up at him, his flushed cheeks and the red hair spread in every direction, beads of sweat on his forehead and in the roots of his hair. Chest heaving and cock still half hard and I bit my lip, feeling how my own arousal still burned between my legs. He left me for just a second, discarting the condom into a bin next to my bed before he placed his hands on my thighs, fingers tapping butterfly soft on my inner side of them. It was supposed to be a sweet gesture but I couldn’t help but gulp, still very much turned on and his eyebrows raised when I rubbed my legs together, wanting nothing more than those fingers inside of me. “You’re not done yet, are you?” He asked almost amazed, voice so incredibly low that I shuddered. He leaned forward, rubbed circles on my thighs, urging me to seperate them and I complied, my face burrowed behind my hands and I could hear him sigh softly when he watched me. “Look at me Jagi” He ordered, voice silky smooth but the dominant undertone made me gulp and I inhaled sharply when I removed my hands, feeling my face flush when I met his eyes again. He kept his gaze locked with mine and his left hand on my thigh, holding me in place, my legs on either side of his hips where he sat on his knees. His right hand caressed the inner side, just a decimetre from their destination and I sucked my lower lip into my mouth, clenching around nothing when soft fingertips stroked over the sensitive skin there. “Tell me what you want me to do” His voice husky and i could feel tears forming in my eyes from arousal as he repeated the same words as i had used at the beginning of our session, as if our roles were changed. He looked down on me, eyelids heavy and fingers tapping just centimeters from where I craved them “You gave me a promise” My voice was needy and whiny and I could feel my heart pounding, not being used to be the one in control, to be the one getting worshipped. But he only smirked, happy to please and laid down on his stomach, kissing my inner thighs on his way down and I shuddered from the sweat gesture, his lips soft on my skin. He placed my legs over his shoulders and I choked out a cry when he placed his tongue flat on my folds, licking between them and I shuddered against his face. I could feel him smiling, nose bumping against my pubic bone as he began eating me out, drinking my juices like a starved man. I borrowed my fingers into the red of his hair, loving the scene of it between my legs. He gently sucked on my clit, paused to come up for air and I could feel my eyes tearing up as he smirked to my reaction, chin wet and eyes hooded, hair tousled from being pulled and I gasped breathlessly when he leaned closer, pushing his body against mine, fingers pressed onto my clit and my back arched as they rubbed softly and agonizingly slow. He bit his lower lip, keeping eye contact with me when his finger travelled down between my folds and my mouth fell open when he pushed in his middle and ring finger to the knuckle, softly hooked in a “come hither” movement and a whiny gasp left my lips when he tickled my sweet spot. “Need one more taste” he groaned and leaned down again to lick my clit, fingers still pumping lazily into me and my back arched, the back of my head pushing down on the pillow and a silent scream leaving my lips when my eyes rolled back from the pleasure shooting through me. I could hear him breathlessly chuckling against my folds, the obscene sound of him slurping my juices filled the room and i got drunk on them, got drunk on him, the mixed smell of sex and his cologne surrounded me, clouded my senses and I never wanted him to stop. His left hand gripped my thighs harder as he pushed himself closer to me, as if he couldn’t get enough either, wanting to reach deeper, his toungue lapped against me, pushing against his fingers as he tried to fuck my hole in as many ways as possible and I could feel myself standing on the edge, hands in his hair and mouth dry. I licked my lips and whined out, “Don’t stop” while moving my hips against him, riding his face and he gripped my thigh harder, picking up speed with his fingers and i was gone within seconds. My mouth fell open as I convulsed against him, my hearing blown out and body going numb as pleasure shot through me. He let me ride out my orgasm and came back up when I was down from my high and I choked on my own breath. He looked so wonderfully fucked out that i wanted to cry and I swallowed hard. He bit his lip and his cheeks flushed red when he suddenly clasped around his cock hard. I looked down, surprised to see him leaking from precum, a clear stain where he’d laid and I gulped as he tugged on himself, a breathy moan escaping his lips and eyes glossy from arousal. “Can I come on you?” He asked, voice husky and I nodded almost embarrassingly quick as I took a shaky inhale, not even realising that he was so far gone already. He placed his left hand on my thigh again, fingertips digging into my skin as his head fell back. His movements where fast and erratic when he started to fuck his own hand, slowly grinding into it and I groaned from the sight, touching myself and writing from the oversensitvity. Beads of pre-cum dripped down on my thigh and he locked eyes with me again as I separated my legs, letting him see my wetness, putting on a show for him as I dipped my fingers into my hole. An animalistic growl left his lips and he pushed his cock down to slide the head between my folds, and I didn’t stop him. I got checked regularly and knew that I didn’t carry anything. Normally I’d scoot away, not trusting the person I was with to be healthy as well but his despreration clouded my judgement and found myself not caring as I just pressed down on my clit harder when he dipped the head of his cock into me, furiously jacking himself off at the same time, his breathing labored, eyebrows furrowed and his lower lip between his teeth, threatening to draw blood. The overstimulation from pressing down my clit became too much and soon I was coming again, my body tensing up and Hongjoong whined when he noticed me clenching around the head of his cock without warning, his name fell from my lips as I writhed underneath him and his hand tightened on my thigh, face contorted from coming for the third time that night. Body convulsing as hot ribbons of cum painted my lower stomach and chest and I groaned with satisfaction. He fell forward, caught himself with one hand and I swallowed when his lips suddenly met mine again. It was slow, sweet and I felt my eyes tearing up when I realised that it was a goodbye kiss. His lips moved against mine and he pulled on my hair to hold me closer, a gasp fell from my lips and he hummed back, sharply inhaling through his nose. We separated, the need for air taking over and I smiled when he cupped my face, placing a playful kiss on the tip of my nose before getting up and walking over to the bathroom. He came back with a wet towel and I thanked him when I took it, debating with myself if I should just let him leave with his cum still stained on my stomach, marking me like his. But I decided that even though I loved the feeling, waking up with it crusty would be less pleasant. He stood up again, looking for his clothes and I swallowed, feeling my cheeks flush as I cleaned myself before putting away the towel and I asked before I could stop myself, “Can you… stay?” I bit my lip, my jaw clenching. It wasn’t something I ever asked, the moment we had was over and I had only asked it once or twice over the years I’d been working here but he smiled. His eyes squinting again and my heart swelled, thumping hard in my chest. “Of course, for a little while...” he said, pulling on his underwear and dragging the duvet over our bodies as he laid down next to me. I could feel how my body froze, so used to causing pleasure that simple cuddles made it feel awkward. But he laid on his side, placing his right arm under the pillow I rest my head on and the other around my body, intertwining our legs and placed his chin on the crown of my head. I took a sharp breaths of air, my own arm around him and my nose nuzzled into the crook of his neck. The musky smell of sweat and cologne filled my senses and I allowed myself to relax in his arms, welcoming a deep sleep.

……….

I woke up when the sun peeked from underneath my blinders the next morning, my bed cold and I shuddered, pulling the duvet closer around me. I was alone and I bit down on my lip when I felt empty sadness fill my heart and poison my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I forced myself up, placing my feet on the sun-heated floor. A letter was placed on the table next to my bed and I frowned, picking it up. My heart picked up in speed as a stack of 20 ‘50000’ banknotes fell into my lap. A gasp escaped my lips at the sight of the money and my heart raced as I read the note,

We’ll meet again, Jagi

#kim hongjoong/reader #kim hongjoong smut #ateez hongjoong #please read this uwu

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the-borhap-boys · 5 years

Text

Bruises Fade : Chapter Seven

Summary: Amelia Mcallen is Queen’s assistant and now must figure out how to navigate life with the band and her personal life while keeping them separate

Word Count: 2117

Warnings: language

Note: Short chapter with some cute fluff

“Freddie, I don’t have any wine glasses. Can you drink out of a mug?” Millie called, turning her head away from the steaming mugs in front of her.

“if I absolutely must,”

She scoffed softly and finished preparing her tea. As she carefully carried the mugs and the bottle of cheap wine over to the couch he flipped through a magazine lazily. She curled up beside him, wrapping the blanket covering him over her legs. He wrapped his arm over her shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead as she stared absentmindedly at the magazine and blew on her tea. A comfortable silence filled the room as the two friends relished in each other’s presence.

After a few minutes he lowered the magazine and turned to look at Millie. She arched her eyebrows quizzically at his oddly cryptid movements.

“Why have you and Roger been acting like pissy children?”

“What?” she reeled back in surprise at his bluntness.

He took the tea from her hands, placing it on the table before turning back to look at her.

“Lovie, we may seem dull but anyone can see that you two won’t even look at each other much less speak,”

She swallowed thickly, glancing down at her hands.

“We had a bit of a falling out,” she murmured haltingly.

“Ah, a lovers quarrel.” He said absentmindedly, picking up the magazine again. She stared at him in shock as he began to flip through the pages calmly.

“What! No! Why would you think that?” she jumped up and threw her hands in the air erratically. Her eyes were wide and frantic as he glanced up at her teasingly.

“Well I was only taking the piss but I believe you are protesting a tad bit too much,”

“Oh,”

She settled down beside him again and buried her head against his shoulder in embarrassment. A hot flush crept over her neck and cheeks.

“I was only kidding too,” her voice was muffled against his shirt and he chuckled at her pitiful form.

“Yes, of course you were, darling,”

He patted her hand patronizingly before turning back to his magazine. She pulled herself off the couch, grabbing her mug and settling herself on the floor across from him. Her eyes tracked across his movements as she bit down on her lip anxiously. She pulled a notebook off the coffee table but let it fall in her lap and stared down at her hands.

“Freddie?” her voice was barely a whisper as she glanced at him through her eyelashes. “you hired me because you like me, right? Not because you felt guilty?”

His eyes widened slightly and he slowly placed his magazine down beside him. She swallowed thickly, anxious for his answer.

“Why on earth would you think a stupid thing like that?” his voice had a slight angry tone to it and Millie cringed slightly.

“I don’t know. I just wondered. I thought maybe you saw how pitiful my life was and you were trying to rescue me the way you always used to. I don’t need rescuing any-“

“Close your mouth.” He interrupted her bluntly and her eyes flicked up to meet his in fear. “You are too damn stubborn for anyone to feel sorry for you. You don’t let anyone feel sorry for you. I hired you because I enjoy having you around and you don’t put up with anyone’s shit. That’s it. I did not feel guilty and I will not have you feeling all mopey and sad.”

“Oh, Ok,” she glanced back down at her own hands and began to pick at the dry skin around her nails.

“Now would you quit looking like a kicked puppy and get back to whatever you were doing? You’re making me feel ill,”

She scoffed under her breath and rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Freddie am I making you uncomfortable with my sadness?”

He gently tossed the magazine at her head, squinting at her in play annoyance. She dodged easily and sat back up, giggling. He refilled his mug and she grabbed a pencil off the coffee table and pulled her knees to her chest as she began jotting notes down. A comfortable silence filled the room again and Millie sighed softly, content to simply sit and write.

A weight seemed to have lifted off her chest and she smiled to herself.

About thirty minutes later the phone began to ring, startling Millie into jerking up. She stumbled over her feet to grab it off the hook, her fingers fumbling over the receiver.

“Hello?” “It’s probably the boys. They’re out shopping and I told them to give us a ring when they are done,” Freddie sang out before whoever was on the other side could answer.

“Hello Love, it’s Bri,” Brians warm voice filled Millie’s ear and she began to fiddle with her hair. “Freddie said to call when we finished shopping. He thought we needed to discuss some lyrics and said you wouldn’t mind hosting us for a bit,” his tone was almost apologetic but she still had to roll her eyes because of course Freddie invited them all over without saying a word to her.

“Sure, Brian. Come on over. I’ll let Freddie know,”

“You are truly the best. Thank you,” he gushed before hanging up.

She stood by the phone for a moment, listening to the dial tone as she tried to brace herself for the noise and excitement the rest of the boys would bring.

After a few short seconds she hopped into action, trying to make the flat look neat. She scrubbed at the counter and quickly washed all the dishes in the sink, watching the clock, counting down the minutes till they would arrive.

The knock on the door twenty minutes later yanked her out of tidying and she glanced at Freddie for a moment before staring at the door. She didn’t feel prepared to have Roger back in here again. It was too soon. She couldn’t open the door and watch him saunter in, filling the room with his loud laughter.

“Want me to get it, darling?” Freddie questioned. She nodded her head frantically before turning back to wiping off the kitchen counter.

The door creaked open loudly and instantly the room was filled with chatter and laughter. Freddie threw himself back down on his spot on the couch as Brian sat on the floor, curling his impossibly long legs around himself. Roger stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, staring at Millie who couldn’t be bothered to even lift her head from her task, before he flopped down beside Freddie. John wandered into the kitchen, leaning against the counter, watching Millie with a smirk.

“Hi Mils, you ignoring me like you’re ignoring Roger?”

She threw the rag in her hand into the sink and whirled around to stare at him.

“Do you all just confer behind my back?” she hissed quietly, trying not to draw attention from the other boys.

John snickered as he glanced over his shoulder to Roger who was drinking straight from the wine bottle that had been half full and was now nearly empty.

“Did Freddie mention something?”

“Yes, Freddie mentioned something. He called it a lovers quarrel,” she hesitated to glance over at the boys. “Which it is not!”

“We’re not as daft as you seem to think we are. Well Roger is but the rest of us have at least half a brain,”

A tussle broke out in the living room as Freddie tried to snatch the bottle back from Roger, resulting in red wine spilled all over Millie’s couch.

“OK, so Freddie and Roger share half a brain.”

“Honestly Deaky, as much as I love you I really don’t want to talk about Roger. At all. I may have to work with him but that doesn’t mean I have to talk to him.”

John smiled tightly and nodded his head before wandering back into the living room. Millie grabbed a bag of crisps from a cupboard and poured them into a bowl, stalling until she had to follow him.

“Millie, darling? Do you have any more wine? This bimbo spilled it all,” Freddie called to her.

She sighed heavily grabbing the last bottle Louis had left and carrying it and the bowl into the living room.

“I come bearing booze and chips,”

“Millicent, we are far too classy to call anything booze,” Freddie claimed as he placed his hand on his chest in mock shock.

“Millicent?” Brian questioned turning to her.

“Freddie feels the need to make everything as extravagant as possible,” she groaned, settling down beside Brian on the floor.

Her hip pressed gently against his knee and she gasped softly when the denim of his jeans rubbed against the sliver of skin between her shirt and skirt as she leant forward to place the chips on the coffee table. He shifted slightly, stretching his legs forward as he placed his hands behind his back to rest his weight on. The tip of his thumb grazed against her hand and she jerked away as sparks seemed to jolt across her skin. He murmured a quick apology and she nodded her head, keeping her eyes on her feet.

“So what song are you working on now?” she questioned, scooting away from Brian slightly.

“Fred wanted to talk about Seven seas of Rhye, I believe,” Brian answered quickly.

Millie grabbed her notebook off the floor as the boys began talking lyrics and harmonies. She laid on her stomach on the floor, her feet in the air, waving back and forth as she wrote. Her mind began to drift away into the world of her story as she worked. A faint smile played across her lips every time a new sentence flew into her head.

“Millicent!” Freddie nearly yelled, yanking her from her thoughts.

She sat up straight and stared at him, fear playing just behind her eyes. Her fingers twitched against the notebook as she tried force out a sentence.

“W..what Fred?” she stuttered out.

“We’ve been calling your name for hours but you were far too invested in what you were doing to pay any notice to us.” He whined before quirking an eyebrow at her. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just some homework,” she lied quickly, shutting the notebook and standing up. Her hands continued shaking as she rubbed them roughly against her skirt.

“Well if you can’t share, I’ll just ask what I’ve been trying to ask for the past hour,”

Roger rolled his eyes exaggeratedly at Freddie dramatics and Millie couldn’t help but giggle.

“Do you have a scrabble board, darling?”

“Yes Fred, you forced me to buy one, remember?” she wandered into the kitchen, shuffling through cabinets looking for the seldom used game.

“I thought you would enjoy it! It’s good for the brain, lovie. And it’s fun.”

“It’s not fun. It lasts far too long and you are too competitive for it to be fun,” She whined finally finding the game and carrying it back into the living room.

Brian pulled it gently from her hands, placing the board on the coffee table and handing out tiles and tile holders.

“I thought you were here to work. Not play games,” she murmured.

“All work and no play makes Freddie a dull boy,” Fred answered quickly, his lips twitched into a smirk.

“Freddie could never be a dull boy,” Millie rolled her eyes and sat on the arm of the couch, resting her arm on Freddie’s shoulder.

The game began quietly, Millie watched over shoulders, trying to guess what their next word would be. As it progressed on it grew more heated. Roger began yelling at Brian because he thought he was cheating and Brian dropped out of the game altogether, too fed up with Roger to deal with him any longer.

Millie wandered over to Brian, and stood behind him, her fingers ghosting over his curls.

“Can I braid you hair, Bri? It’s so curly I think it would be fun to try,”

He shrugged his shoulders and rested his back against her knees as she began weaving her fingers through his hair. His closed in contentment and he let out a soft sigh as she gently tugged his curls. Roger couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from them as Millie’s giggled and whispered to Brian, her fingers constantly pressing against his scalp.

“try being nice to her and maybe she’ll braid your pretty blond hair too,” Freddie whispered in his ear, causing him to jolt up and glance down at his tiles.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Of course, you don’t,” Freddie snickered.

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

Taglist always open

Taglist: @itsametaphorbriansblog @shutup-sorry @b-r-o-s-k-i @kellypenac @irishhiggins @heda-mikaelson @letmedanceamongthestars

#ben hardy! roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor #brian may

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queerspacewhale · 5 years

Text

(Pt 1)Our messy lives.

This wasn't what Dave expected from his first weekend at his place. Yeah, he knew he was gonna have a fuckin kickass welcome party, calculated some sloppy makeouts and some hella drinks. And not to forget, some ironically shitty snacks to top it all off.

He didn't calculate finding a dead body in his kiddy pool, no, not just anyone's semi preserved flesh sack, it was a replica of him.

It was his fuckin body. So why the fuck wa Roz fuckin black!?

"Dude that's not me, perching up on the dude without glee, stop staring and help the man!! Unless you have another plan, " An albino Crow rhythm, perching upon Dave's lockes, tapping his nose to emphasise her point.

"Yeah, lets do that, " Dave mutters as jogs over to the floating figure, "Yo- oh shit y'all be bleeding in my fuckin pool man! Shit let's get you out of there." He mutters to himself a little rattled at the situation but not frozen in place like a deer in headlights. Carefully plucking the stranger from his once watery grave. Cautious not to touch the distressed daemon in the process.

"Yo! Eggderp get the med kit, we got a code Karkat!! " The standing resident cool guy yells as he made his way up the stairs, carrying the man into their humble yet sick abode, muttering to himself as he enters the small apartment,” Thank you Roxy for hooking the door up to an auto system.” Quickly walking over to the couch and placing the wounded doppelganger onto the couch. Meeting the concern face of his favourite buck toothed man upon turning around. “Thank you nursebert, Dave responses with a nod, collecting the media from Johns hands before quickly adding before John took this chance to escape, “Please, standby for further instructions.”

Undressing the wounded man, Dave fights back a flinch as he gazes at the large gaping hole which no normal individual would survive, a wound familiar to the two men. “Is that Davepetasprite v2??” John whispers beside Dave, sitting down next to his Morail, swallowing the lump with “yeah, if you minus the Peta part, this is straight up Davesprite dude, 100% feather butt,“ Dave retorts whilst he begins to tend to the wound, his practiced hands steady from years of practice.

No most med kits wouldn't have the tools necessary for surgery, especially surgery of this caliber but this was no regular med kit, to put it simply. And within about an hour the sprite was all patched up.

"Nurse, gorse please and some clothes too man. Can't have this dude showing the goods," Dave mutters, earning a nod from the bucktooth beauty as well as a eye roll while he made his way into the other room. His little daemon resting on the uncontrollable mess of a mane of his, her bill ruffling against his hair . Within a moment the man was as wrapped as a mummy, with a clean, and ironic, mlp shirt on and gnarly tie-dye sweatpants.

“Ya’ll best keep an eye on them in case they go south,” Dave explains with a yawn, stretching before tucking the dude underneath a quilt, making sure to leave enough room for the raven nestle upon the man’s chest. Rising with each slow breath he took. Letting out a hum, Dave plops himself next to John, resting his head on the other man’s shoulder as he joins him in reading. Fiddling with Roxy’s hair, who had station herself on John’s lap, catching up on the many overdue zee’s he needed. Soon John’s hand found its way beside Dave’s entwining their arms as the trio sat in comfortable silence. A rare moment for these abnormal adults.

Within the span of about an hour, their peace was interrupted by the sounds of footsteps pattering around the hallway and into the kitchen, a rather angry yet tired form muttering to himself as he dumps a bags onto the counter, his little Daemon leaping onto the bench from the floor and ruffling her fur while she climbs onto a shelf, settling on a spot above the count. Not in the way but not away from her other.

Roz shifts her gaze to the pair, a sigh leaving her beak, muttering to herself as she settles into her other half’s locks, “Shits all out of wack, Makes me wonder when he’ll be back. Jake I know you wanted a break, but man a lot of shit is at stake. But that’s the thing about Morails, Sometime they gotta blaze their own trails. But fuck man emotions are being swept under the mat, And it’s overwhelming our favourite grumpy Kat.”

A small, hairless feline pokes her head from beneath her other’s blouse, her own little knitted martini jumper covering her slender body, purring as she curls up on her sleeping Roxy, “He needed it remember? He was getting stir crazy, restless. “The feline explains to the upset bird. Her tail thumping patiently beside her.

“I know man, we didn’t want to keep him in a snear, But he didn’t need to leave us unaware! “ Roz caws in annoyance, ruffling her feathers anxiously as she shifts her gaze over to the stomping pair in the kitchen, “I’m worried about them, They’re already in their own mayhem. “

The felines face grew somewhat sombre, her eyes lowering as she replies to the crow’s worried mumblings, “They should be returning any day now, it’s been a good two years since he began this journey and he did mention he will try to be back sometime this summer. "

"Let's hope so."

follow my original here 030

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19894684/chapters/47120731

#Homestuck AU #daemon

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taenamseok · 6 years

Text

The Case of Her Heart

Masterlist

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to the beginning of The Case of Her Heart. A quick summary. This is a Sherlock based au, but not everything is the same as Sherlock. Whenever I do an au based on something I will change things to make it my own. Now many of you may think that the roles in this should be Namjoon as Sherlock and Y/N as the Watson character, but I don’t feel that way. I feel it would be more interesting with Namjoon as Watson and Y/N as Sherlock. These will be long chapters, the first chapter being the shortest. Due to the long chapters I’ll only be posting once a week to make sure I provide the best content possible while writing other stuff too. Well, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Summary: A damaged man that just wants to feel alive again. A detective who doesn't understand people's emotions. Can they work together to bring down a criminal mastermind?

Chapter One

"How are you doing, Mr. Kim? Has anything changed since our last meeting?" Dr. Brighton asked, her eyes flicking up from her notepad. The man sat cross-legged in the chair, his fingers anxiously dancing across the arm of the chair. The far away look in his eyes, as he's had for years. "Um," he licks his lips, "no, not really." He replies. "Have you been out of the house at all?" The doctor asks, scribbling on the notepad. "Not much, I don't like being around too many people, you know?" The man says. "And the nightmares?" She asks, looking up at him. "Um, still, still there. I don't sleep much." He sighs, yawning at the thought. The doctor nods, writing down the information.

"Doc, we've been over the same things over and over again for months. I'm not going to improve." The man sighs, rubbing his temples. "That's because you don't listen to my advice, Mr. Kim. You're too stubborn, and its tearing you apart. Now, I'll tell you again. I want you to get out of the house, meet people. You hole yourself up in your flat because you're afraid of people, or what might happen to them. I want you to go outside, to the park or a cafe or something. Also, write down what happens to you. Keep a journal. It'll give you something to confide in, your true feelings."

Mumbles and camera flashes flood the room, all eyes focused on the panel of law enforcement members. "Are you ready, sir?" Sargent Jones asked quickly. The man nodded, closing his eyes as he prepped for the bombardment of questions he was about to endure. "May I have everyone's attention please!" Jones spoke into the microphone, the crowd growing silent. "Detective Inspector Park will now answer questions pertaining to the recent disappearances of James Willington, Marcus Baker, and Lilly Cunningham." She said, taking the seat next to Decective Inspector Park. A wave of hands shot through the air, all waving and wishing to have theirs picked. "Um, you there, row 3 seat 7." Inspector Park said. The man rose from his seat, notepad in hand.

"Detective Inspector, is it true that these disappearances might be linked somehow?" The man asked. "Its a possibility, but it's not very likely since they were all very different people, with different lifestyles, ages, and in different areas and cities. We are investigating it a bit but our main focus right now is finding the persons in question." Inspector Park spoke coolly, have done this too many times to be proud of. As Inspector Park finishes his sentence, a chime of every cell phone in the room sounds, including his own. He sighs, pulling the device put of his pocket and reading the text on the screen.

"Um, Inspector, this says they're connected." The same man says. Everyone looks at each other quizzically, and Inspector Park's jaw tightens. "Everyone, please ignore the message, it's not known for sure that the disappearances are connected. Why don't we get back to the questions?" Jones says quickly. "Yes, please." Inspector Park sighs. "You there, row 1, seat 3." The woman stands up.

"Inspector, do you think any of us are in danger?" The woman asks. "No, I can assure you that we have our on high alert throughout the city. This case should be solved soon, we have our best detectives working very hard." Inspector Park assures the nervous woman. Another wave of ringtones echoes through the room, everyone taking their phones out to check. "It just says 'Wrong' Detective Inspector." The woman gasps. Inspector Park groans, rubbing his temples.

"Tell her to stop, she's ruining this." Jones spits in his ear. "Don't you think if I knew I'd have done it already?" He sighs. His phone pings again, a message popping up on the screen. "You know where to find me. I'll be waiting." "That's it. This is over. If we continue she will too." Inspector Park sighs, standing up and walking out of the room, leaving Sargent Jones to deal with the angry reporters.

The warm air felt nice, the leaves in the trees rustling. He walked slowly on the path, finally taking Dr. Brighton's advice and getting out of his dusty flat and getting fresh air. He had his earbuds in, still preferring his music over the sound of others in the park. He pauses as he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns quickly, putting his hands up defensively, ready to take on his assailant. He sees a somewhat familiar face, pulling his earbuds out and hanging them around his neck to greet the man.

"Woah, Namjoon. It's been a while, I hope you still recognize me." The man chuckles. "Of course, Jackson, how good I forget?" Namjoon smiles, meeting the man's hand in a handshake. The two men sit down on a bench nearby, an awkward silence falling between them. "So, how've you been? It's been a few years." Jackson breaks the silence. "Um, alright, I guess." Namjoon nods, fiddling his thumbs in his lap.

"Namjoon, you know, it wasn't your fault. You know that, right?" Jackson asks, placing a comforting hand on Namjoon's shoulder. He nods quickly, sniffling at the memory. "I still could've helped more, you know?" He croaks. "You can't beat yourself over this, man. It's not your fault." Jackson says softly. Namjoon straightens up, falling back into his stoic demeanor.

"So, how's Kyungmin?" Jackson asks, leaning back against the bench. "Um, I'm not sure, exactly, I haven't talked to her in a while." Namjoon laughs nervously. "Ah, well she has always been a handful, I have no doubt its difficult to keep tabs on her." Jackson chuckles. "Yeah." Namjoon replies, falling back into an uncomfortable silence.

"How's your living situation if you don't mind me asking. You in a good place?" Jackson asks. "Um, it's alright. Not great, but alright. It's enough for me. I don't have people over so it doesn't matter that it's small. Why?" Namjoon answers, looking at Jackson questioningly. Jackson smiles. "I have someone I want you to meet. I think you two would get along quite well. Come on."

"Hoseok! What happened to that body?" The young woman asks, tucking her hair behind her ear as her eyes lowered to look into the microscope again. "Well, you definitely beat the hell out of him, I'll give you that, but no bruises." Hoseok said from across the table. The woman sighs through grit teeth. "Okay." She replies simply. "That was quite an interesting sight though, seeing you beat a dead body with a riding crop. I pray that you're not into BDSM, your partner would probably end up on my table." Hoseok chuckled. The woman looked up at him, her eyebrow cocked. "Uh, nevermind, forgot for a minute you don't know anything about sexual stuff." He sighs. "That's because I have no use for it right now. There's much more to do than be pleasured." She shakes her head. "Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." Hoseok smirks, winking at her. "Didn't you say the same thing to the receptionist this morning?" She asks coolly, causing his eyes to widen. He ducks out of the room in embarrassment, running into two men in the hallway.

Namjoon and Jackson enter the room, the woman not looking up. The moment Namjoon laid eyes on her, he was captivated by her beauty. The way way her hair was tucked neatly behind her ear, her nimble fingers adjusting the knobs on the microscope, her teeth clamped onto her bottom lip in concentration. "Ah, Jackson, what a surprise." She said, looking up at the men. Her eyes gleamed in the florescent lighting as she looked between them. "Namjoon, this is Min Y/N. Y/N, this is Namjoon, and old friend of mine." Jackson says, pointing between the two of you. "Um, it's a pleasure to uh, meet you." Namjoon stuttered, bowing slightly.

"Hello. So, what time will you be prepared?" She asks nonchalantly. Namjoon stands there, looking over at Jackson, whose eyes are on him. He realizes Y/N's eyes are on him too, and he raises an eyebrow. "Me?" He asks. "Yes, you. What time will you be ready to look at the flat?" She asks, completely confusing him. "Um, I'm sorry, flat? What flat?" He stutters. "Well, I told Jackson this morning that no one would ever want to live with me, then he shows up hours later with ex-military with severe PTSD." She says, looking back into the microscope. Namjoon is taken aback, looking between Jackson and Y/N, a smirk painted onto Jackson's face.

"You told her about me, didn't you?" Namjoon asks. Jackson shakes his head. "Then how does she know all of that?" "Well, the ex-military part is because you both are very young and Jackson doesn't have too many friends, and he's never mentioned a Namjoon. So, you must have known each other for a while, but not been in the same unit. You met in bootcamp, right?" Y/N asks. Namjoon nods slowly. "So what were you? Your hands are fairly nimble. Doctor, right?" She asks, looking up at him. "Um, yeah, that's right." Namjoon replies.

"You keep to yourself. Theres no outline of a phone in your pocket so either you don't have one or you keep it at home, having no need to use one while you're out. Also, you still seem fairly comfortable without it. If you were just forgetful you'd be twitchy without it, which means you don't actually use it. The PTSD part, you jump at the slightest sudden sound. You've jumped three times since being here and all I've done is set down petri dishes." "She's good, isn't she? Be careful though, she can be a real bitch sometimes." Jackson chuckles. Y/N doesn't reply to the comment.

"That's, amazing. How do you know all of that when you've just met me?" Namjoon asks, putting his hands in his pockets. Y/N sets another dish down, and Namjoon involuntarily jumped slightly. Y/N raised her head, looking at him as if to make a point. "Alright, I get it. That's really amazing." Namjoon smiles, surprised that such a beautiful woman is so intelligent. Y/N raises her eyebrows quickly. "Well I've always been smarter than average, my whole family actually." She says, passing Namjoon to grab her coat. "So, meet me at 221B Baker Street, 3 o'clock. Please, don't be late, I hate waiting on people." She says quickly. "See you around, Jackson." She waves while exiting the room, her heels clicking on the tile. Namjoon stands there, completely baffled. "Um, what just happened?" He asks, chuckling in disbelief. "You, my friend, are about to have one hell of an adventure." Jackson smirks.

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