#will wear these charms as earrings and answer “my parents” each time someone asks me who r they

[sanamustdie]

alan and alice.. eu... e e e... eu eu uuuu.. 2 done, 3 more to go..... can't wait to see them all printed teeheeee

i've been losing my mind over them these past few weeks... if they don't get reunited and have a happy ending i'll end up on national tv

#will wear these charms as earrings and answer “my parents” each time someone asks me who r they #need to find a new print-man for the stickers tho cause i got beef with my usual one lmao #alan wake 2 #alan wake ii #alan wake #alice wake #remedyverse #remedy games #remedy entertainment #ilkka villi #christina cole

[ptergwen]

smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

-

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it. 

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions. 

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”

#tom holland #richkid!tom #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Let’s say England has a long-term girlfriend he knows isn’t the biggest fan of marriage bc her family had been really really pushy (before she got the heck out of dodge) about her marrying + reproducing ASAP. How might he react if she came to him and said she was kinda starting to like the general concept of marrying him — that is, the whole ‘together forever’ bit. Thanks!

I confess darling that I have been trying to finish this prompt for well over a year, and I offer my sincerest apologies that it’s taken me this long to finish it. Still, despite my tardiness, I hope you enjoy, and I thank you for your patience with me.

You had never intended to fall in love, not with the constant push of your relatives to fall in line like a perfect child.

First, marriage to someone they deemed acceptable, raising the perfect 2.5 children, followed by quietly settling into parenthood and complaisant contentment until the day you last drew breath.

Truth of the matter was, you had avoided all chances of romance for the first few years after you moved away from home, carefully slipping away from anyone who seemed remotely interested in you.

You knew your folks would have disproved such behaviour had they learnt the truth, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You had your own dreams to pursue, your own story to tell, your own life to live; you didn't need someone by your side to feel complete.

You were happy as you were, finding enjoyment in your work and figuring out your place in the world.

You didn’t need, or frankly want, anything more than that.

That was of course until you met him.

Falling in love with Arthur Kirkland had been a complete accident. He slipped past all of your defenses and took up residence in your heart as if he had always belonged there.

It started out slow enough; at first you simply knew him as a familiar face from the cafe in Waterstones, steaming cup of Darjeeling and a chocolate croissant sitting forgotten on the table in front of him, always too focused on his reading to pay any attention to the outside world. After one particularly crowded Sunday afternoon, he began to transition into your favorite dining companion, the two of you often taking turns paying for each other’s food. Slowly but surely, you began forgetting about your books, too wrapped up in conversation, and before you knew it-

You had come to love every part of him- the gentleman that you begrudgingly introduced to your parents, the rebellious and passionate activist, the cocky and playful little shit who had long ago memorised all the best ways to disarm you, and the ancient soul who cared so deeply, who still stretched himself thin most days in effort to protect each of his loved ones.

You fell in love with his voice, whispering sonnets and sonatas and sweet nothings in your ear while his arms cradled you from behind.

You fell in love with his eyes, still losing your footing sometimes when the light caught them just right, dreaming momentarily of summer forests and grassy glades and the misty dews of spring.

You fell in love with his smiles, from the satisfied grin at stirring up Peter’s ire to the breathless wonder each time you kissed or complimented him, to the bright, beautiful, blinding smile he wore when he was incandescently happy, his entire countenance iridescent from his joy.

You loved him completely- for his devotion, for his sweet gestures, for his damned impishness, for his wit, his sass, and the soft spoken affection.

You loved him: for his patience, for his recklessness, for his resilience, for his possessive pride that was somehow more charming than alarming.

He was unique, an enigma that, even after having lived together for years and dating even longer, kept you on your toes, his energy and random spouts of spontaneity proving to you that, even if you spent one hundred lifetimes with him, he would always remain a puzzle you would never fully solve.

And by God did you want to.

Arthur had stolen your heart away from you before you had even noticed he was close enough to take it, offering his own in its stead.

You had remained reluctant, confided in him your fears about settling down, how much you dreaded becoming trapped in a monotonous rut of tedium. He was quick to reassure you, showing through words and actions far more impassioned and teasing than he had ever shown prior, that an eternity with him could never be boring.

Even on quiet days, like today, with a steady drizzle painting the world in greys, Arthur humming quietly while adding another patch to his denim vest, and no other disturbance apart from the cat’s chittering at the robins playing in a puddle by the iron fence- Even now, you weren’t so much bored as you were pensive.

You had been thinking about a future with him a lot in the past few days, some irrelevant ad on your mobile about wedding venues catching your attention and slithering into the back of your mind.

What kind of wedding would he like? Would Arthur prefer something small and intimate, or would his hubris crave a larger venue, giving him yet another chance to prove to the world that he belonged at your side, no one else?  You couldn’t help but wonder if he would wear his uniform or a suit, if he would leave the rats' nest he called a hairstyle untouched, or if he would perhaps slick it back in that way that somehow made the normal rakishness disappear, a confident, refined cavalier standing in his place.

You knew of course that none of this mattered unless you actually talked to him first; as far as you were aware, he was content with the current arrangement, and he respected your views of marriage.

He had known, for a long time, just where the grim outlook stemmed from, and he never breached the subject again.

But now-

You had thought it was enough to hold his love, his faith, his vulnerabilities. But life was so fleeting, and now those few things were no longer enough.

You wanted to wake up every morning next to him, wanted the cheesy partners’ towel and flip flop sets. You wanted the physical reminder that you held his heart, the comforting reminder that he completely possessed your own. You wanted to be by his side forever, holding his hand through the good and the ill, facing new worlds and challenges and the uncertain future together.

You knew the risks, of course.

Marriage to a Nation carried an even heavier burden than the simple oath of “till death do us part.”

No, marrying Arthur would mean weaving your entire lives together, binding you on a spiritual level far surpassing mortality; it would mean sacrificing your chance to ever grow old, to eternally give yourself away: heart, mind, body, and soul.

But this was Arthur, who sang showtunes in the shower, who spent hours making silly faces at the cat, who was ridiculously competitive about Halloween costumes, the man who sat down and memorised the entirety of The Tempest in one night just for the bragging rights.

He already owned your heart, constantly invaded your thoughts and daydreams, and God knew he had long, long ago claimed your body, making certain not a single millimeter of his new territory went unexplored.

Would it really be so bad to give him your soul, too?

Glancing back up, seeing his eyes narrowed in concentration, his fingers handling the needle with expert precision, lips slightly parted, reading glasses fallen halfway down his nose-

You knew your answer.

It was always going to be Arthur for you, only Arthur.

Forever, should he have you.

But now you faced the challenge of telling him that.

It should be simple enough; you really held no more secrets from him, and he no longer bothered trying to hide anything from you. You loved how open you were with one another, cherished the honesty that served as the very foundation to your relationship.

But the truth was that you were terrified.

It had been so long since either of you had spoken of marriage, since the topic was even a thought in your minds, and-

What if he didn't want you anymore?

What if he-

"I can see the steam coming outta your ears."

The unexpected presence of Arthur's voice startled you, eyes darting back over to the very man who was unwittingly tormenting you.

He had barely moved from his earlier position, though his glasses had been pushed up into his hair and he was studying you curiously, if not bemusedly.

"You good there?"

By default, you nearly responded with an affirmative, some playful, lighthearted thing that would have dismissed his concern immediately. You cut yourself off mid-start, then, while shifting to sit properly in the armchair, you decided to push forward. "Can we talk?"

You watched as his expression shifted, revealing his concern as he tied off his thread, setting aside the patchwork and gestured for you to join him on the sofa.

There were a few awkward moments where you took up your favourite positions, Arthur tossing an afghan across the pair of you despite your insistence that you didn't need one, the flicker of a grin as you begrudgingly thanked him, and then shifting around as you both got comfortable, but soon enough-

"Alright, now; talketh at-eth me."

It was impossible to fight the smile his choice of words triggered, a reference to an inside joke so old now that you could scarcely recall its origin. Seeming to deem it a success, his own soft, reassuring smile greeted you.

"Seriously though, luv-" His hand came to rest atop your own, his fingers gently tapping a familiar rhythm against your skin. "What's troubling you?"

You were half-tempted to offer something short of sincerity, something innocuous and mundane that you could both laugh over and forget again within a few hours. Yet, you knew that if you didn't tell him now, didn't ask him now, you would never find the courage again.

"I've been thinking-"

"Ah. A scary premise in its own right."

"Oh, shut up," you retorted to his tease, smacking his arm for his troubles. He rewarded you with a grin, all fondness and mischief. Opting to ignore him, you pressed on, eyes downcast to avoid whatever judgement he may offer.

"As I was trying to say earlier, before I was so rudely interrupted-" The teasing fell off, and the worry crept back in. "I've been thinking. About us."

"O-oh?"

Were you not so consumed by your own anxieties, you would have noticed his stutter, would have seen the sudden tension in his posture, the fear in his eyes. As it was, you were completely oblivious to all of it, and made yourself continue at his prompting.

"I- I think I'm ready."

He mimed the word "ready" to himself, parroting it with utter befuddlement. "For wha-"

"I mean, I know I wasn't for such a long time, and-" Suddenly, you were off, half unhinged. Now that you had admitted the truth aloud, it was all rushing out of you, everything you had come to love about him, everything that-

A finger pressing firmly against your lips stopped you mid-tangent, and when you glanced up to find piercing, blazing emerald focused on you as if you were the very center of the universe, whatever remained of your ramblings disappeared entirely.

"What are you trying to say?"

A simple question, so easy to answer, yet it carried with it the weight of Infinities, demanding nothing save the truth, in its most basic state.

You were lost in his gravity, half-drowning in whatever this new feeling was. It was addicting, another riddle to be solved.

"Marry me."

Time stood still, the words weighing heavily in the space between you, now seemingly insurmountable despite being no more than mere decimeters.

Arthur showed no reaction, revealed no indication that he had even heard your plea, your query, your command, your request, and yet it echoed over and over in your own mind, the tone, the weight, the untimeliness-

Every facet- from your inflection to chosen tempo- crescandoed as an accusation, a mocking symphony that he would reject you, that you would be left with only the haunting strains of your ill-conceived proposal.

And yet-

There was a hesitation in his eyes, the face of a man who wanted wholeheartedly to believe what he had heard, but had been burned far too often in the past to dare allow himself hope.

"You-" His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed as he studied you once more, only for the suspicion to disappear again almost immediately, disbelief swiftly taking its place. "You're serious?"

It was then that you finally read his nervousness, understood the strange emotion reflecting in his eyes.

You had lead him to a precipice, the vast Unknown before you both, and-

And he was just as fragile as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

You gave his hand a light squeeze, hoping to ground you both, and offered him a nod. “If you’ll have me, anyway.”

His eyes flickered between your own, darting back-and-forth so quickly in search of a lie, of any doubts, of any hint that you were less than certain- yet you knew he would find none of that.

“What about your family?”

The question took you by surprise; in the moment, you had completely forgotten anyone else even existed.

You weighed his question carefully. Marrying Arthur would give your family leave to gloat in self-satisfaction, and you knew with absolutely certainty that they would hold it over your head for the next three decades. But looking into the eyes of the man before you, remembering all that you had already seen and done together, you found that others' opinions no longer mattered, really hadn't mattered in a long, long time.

“I couldn’t care less about them. Arth-”

Whatever you were going to say was forgotten as he closed the remaining distance between you, moving so swiftly that you scarcely had a moment to steady yourself before he captured you in a searing kiss, one of his most passionate by far.

Somehow, despite the suddenness of it all, the initial force, the intensity- 

He was being incredibly gentle, and moving slowly enough to almost be more a torment than a treat. Almost.

You found yourself lost in a daze when he finally pulled away, just enough for each of you to catch your breaths, just far enough that he could study you with rapt attention. You could have drowned in his eyes, endless greens magnetizing in their intensity. His hands were still cradling your cheeks, still holding you firmly in place, a not completely foreign expression creasing his features.

You couldn't quite place it, even as your memories shifted desperately in search of its mate.

"'If I'd have you?'" His words, a rhetorical refrain of your own mere moments earlier, were scarcely a shared breath between you, murmured in timbre so low it summoned a shiver. There was the smallest twitch of his lip, his head tilting ever so slightly as more of that damned deviousness made its presence known. "I fully intend to have you regardless, luv. But the formality of it all certainly adds a particular je ne sais quoi, wouldn't you agree?"

You'd be damned if he knew just how that made your heart flutter, if he knew just how much weight that reassurance had lifted from your shoulders.

Carefree, content, you offered a playful smile. "Till death do us part then?"

Arthur no longer bothered trying to restrain his smile, soft and sincere in a way that left you breathless. "I'll love you till even the stars go cold, my dear."

Thanks for reading~

#england x reader #aph england #arthur kirkland x reader #hello lovelies~! #hws england #hetalia england #aph arthur kirkland #hetalia arthur kirkland #hws arthur kirkland #reader insert #hetalia x reader #hello lovelies! #readerfic #thanks for reading! #aph england x reader #hetalia england x reader #hws england x reader

[issaxcharlie]

Someone To You

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Y/N and Luke have been friends for most of their lives and have already spent some time in love, but not knowing how to jump from friends to lovers, they have been stranded in that rare transition for much longer than they should, something that does not go unnoticed neither for them nor for the members of the rock band.

A lot of Luke and Y/N fluff, and a lot of friendship between Y/N and the Sunset Curve boys💖 (oh and my usual nonsense)

Word count: +3k

Songs used: Kiss me by Ed Sheeran and Follow You by Echosmith

Two in the morning and Y/N has been lying on her bed for twenty minutes trying to go back to sleep without any success. She is about to give up and go to get her journal when an unmistakable knock on the window echoes through the room.

She gets up and turns on the lamp before going to open the lock, her best friend entering the room seconds later and closing the window again before turning to her. The second they are face to face, Y/N lunges at him, entwining her legs tightly across his waist, her face buried completely in his neck, letting the familiarity of his body and scent wash over her.

“Oh god, I missed you.” He whispers in a husky voice, putting his hands on her hips and carefully kicking off his vans with his feet, then moving to her bed, dropping her gently on her usual side.

That's when he can see the girl's face with attention, her features slightly illuminated by the night lamp and making clear that she had been awake before he arrived.

“Difficult night eh?” He asks just before pushing his body forward to jump to the other side of the bed, and she lets out a sweet wholehearted laugh when he stumbles at the last second and ends up falling on his belly on her hips. “This was supposed to be way cooler and smoother.”

“I know Lu, maybe try to just walk next time?”

“Y/N, darlin’. Rockstars don’t just walk, we have to do everything with style.” He gets up and lightly kisses her on the cheek before stepping carefully around her to lie down on his side.

“My mistake, Lucas.” She teases with a smirk and he frowns before playfully sticking his tongue out at her. “Now, what happened? Whenever you appear at the window out of nowhere, it’s because you feel overwhelmed."

He analyzes what she said silently. All the times that he has entered through that window passing through his head, as well as all the hugs and cuddles received. All the years, and feelings and memories making him feel blessed to love her. "I guess you are right, you are my safe place." Y/N's face lights up, and she confidently moves closer to give him a soft kiss on the nose. “And you are mine. Now, spill, handsome.”

He smiles at the compliment, and makes an exaggerated wink that makes her snort. “My mom made me leave the house almost impossible, I was minutes away to miss the gig. I don't understand why it's so hard for her to understand that this is what I was born to do. If I want to be someone in this life, I have to continue on this path, no matter what. I don't want to die and just vanish, I want to leave a mark. We all want our lives to be great and to be remembered." Luke drops his head against the pillow and covers his eyes with his hands, letting his annoyance out.

“I get you, and you know I will always support you.”

“But…”

“But I just want you to know this. You are someone, Luke. To me, to Reggie, Alex, Bobby, and no matter how much you guys argue, you are someone to your parents. You don't need to connect with everyone to make an impact, just with the people who matter to you.”

He moves his hands behind his head and stares in silence at the ceiling for a few seconds, and then turns to see her with the most charming smile in his repertoire. “Will you come to the Orpheum after we nail the audition?” Anyone would be disconcerted by his attitude, but for Y/N it is a typical Luke Patterson defense mechanism. Whenever he feels like the conversation is getting too heavy or when he just doesn't want to respond, he drastically changes the subject with his best smile to try and distract her.

“Of course I will, It’ll be one of the most important days of your life, I would never miss it. And I would not change you singing in my ear for anything, but there is something so special when you are on stage, it is like being in front of the microphone sets your soul on fire.” She replies with a delighted smile.

"I totally get what you mean. So, you like me to sing you to sleep, huh? C’mere beautiful." He requests before trapping her against him, his calloused fingers quickly finding her hair, stroking it gently as he sings in her ear.

“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. Lie down with me, and hold me in your arms” He stops for a second to meet her eyes again and give her a light kiss on the forehead, before confidently singing the chorus. “Kiss me like you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved. This feels like falling in love, falling in love, falling in love.”

Y/N smiles against his neck before finally falling asleep, the peace Luke always gives her completely invading her and melting her in his arms.

In the morning Y/N snaps her eyes open when she raises her arm to wrap her best friend’s waist and finds the space empty. She sits down and finds a note on her nightstand, Luke's unmistakable handwriting peeking out due to a poorly folded sheet.

“Good morning darlin’, sorry for leaving without saying goodbye, I had to go to the last rehearsal before the auditions. After that we will pick you up to go celebrate <3

PS: you look so hot while you drool my shoulder and the pillows."

-Luke

The girl can't help but blush, and furiously examines the pillow to see if she actually did it, only to find another little note below it.

“Gotcha.” She rolls her eyes and a little laugh escapes her lips.

Today is a ridiculously important day in the lives of the boys, if they manage to be among the 10 chosen for the second part of the contest, they will compete in the legendary Orpheum for the opportunity to land a record deal.

The four of them have been working like crazy even though the situation with their families has been getting worse in recent weeks, none of them have even thought about giving up. Without much to do during her day off, Y/N allows herself to remember the feeling of being in Luke's arms, the conversation she had with Alex and Bobby just a few days before in the back of her head.

“Why are we doing this again?” Alex asks clearly annoyed while Bobby and Y/N laugh, turning to see Luke and Reggie jamming some songs across the sidewalk, in front of one of the hottest clubs in LA.

“Something about making the band better known before auditions.” she reports, as she closes the buttons on Luke's bleached jean jacket she's wearing.

“I understand that, but couldn’t he wait til tomorrow? We practiced all day, I’m tired as fuck.” The blond replies, getting irritated from exhaustion.

Bobby yawns, his eyes getting heavier as he rests his head in Y/N’s shoulder. “Muffin, I swear, your man has infinite energy.”

“He is not my man, Bobs.” She answers as she rests her head on his, ruffling his hair gently.

"Well maybe you should let him know, because he refers to you as his girl all the time." Bobby informs her, raising his head to see her reaction.

“He does?” Even in the dark both boys can see how red her cheeks are, and how the smile on her face grows with each passing second. Bobby decides to take a chance and keep teasing her.

“My girl is so insanely talented, that’s my sweet girl, my girl said this and I thought it was so freaking awesome because I’m hopelessly in love with her.”

“Man, that was so accurate. 10/10.” Alex replies while laughing, they lean in to highfive above her head, and she can't help but blush even more at her friend's words.

“You guys are the worst.” She wrinkled her nose and they both turned to see each other, agreeing silently that now is the moment to ask one of the questions they had wanted to ask her for months.

“Since we met you are in this strange relationship, in which you are both aware that you are in love with each other, but neither of you does anything. What are you waiting for?" Bobby asks, indicating Alex to support him with his eyes.

“Yeah bro after 3 years, it gets kind of old.” He adds, trying to sound cool.

“I guess, we just think it is not the right time. Since you started the band he has worked tirelessly on his career as a musician and that is what I want him to focus on. We both know what is in our hearts and for now that is more than enough.” She blurts out, trying to get her thoughts in order.

“That was so cheesy I want to die.” Alex answers in reflex, and his eyes go wide when he realizes what he said.

“Oh my God, Alex. Go away! I will never open my soul to you again.”

The girl blushes again, a small smile at the corner of her lips as she remembers how after that her friends continued to tease her with Luke and called her Mrs Patterson for the rest of the night, both she and Luke totally embarrassed when they continued to tease them in the truck on the way home. She decides to get out her notebook and try to write a song, which she hadn't done since Luke formed Sunset Curve, and by the time she finished she had just some minutes before the boys arrived.

She managed to get ready in time, but what she found when she opened the door was not what she expected. The face that greeted her was Reggie's and not Luke's as always, and the sad little smile on the bassist's face wasn't normal either.

She instantly hugs him, making soft circles with her fingertips on his iconic leather jacket.

“Don’t worry about me, sunshine, I’m fine. But he needs you.” He takes her hand and walks toward Bobby's old truck, and Y/N is even more confused when she meets his beaming smile as they climb into the back of the vehicle. Alex is smiling too, but he looks clearly anxious, and Luke is nowhere to be found.

"Can someone explain to me what happened? Where is Luke?"

“We did it, muffin!” He embraces her excitedly, his clear happiness reassuring the stressed girl.

“Congrats guys! I’m so proud of you!” He released her and she hugs Reggie with her left arm and with her free one takes Alex's hand, who takes it in his and fondly kisses her knuckles.

“Thank you Y/N, but going back to Luke, we need your help. Things didn't go as smoothly as we expected and how to put it nicely… he lost it.” The blond informs her while anxiously playing with his necklace.

“You are the one who always shows him the way.” Reggie says with a bigger smile this time.

“Okay, start the truck Bobs, my man needs me.” Alex snorts a laugh and Bobby fulfills her request after smiling teasingly at her.

“You told Bobby he wasn’t your man.” Alex remarked with a smirk, turning his head toward the back seat to look into her eyes.

“And you told the boy at the club that you didn't know Reggie so you wouldn't have to give him his number. What's your point?” She answered swiftly with a mirrored smirk.

The drummer tries to counter attack but fails miserably, instead whispers a “...Well played.” and looks back to the front of the road.

“Was he cute?” Reg asks with genuine curiosity, and they all debate whether the boy was Reggie’s type or not on the way to where Luke is.

The boys leave her in the big park where the girl already imagined her best friend was, and she walks directly to the place where they sat millions of times throughout her childhood and adolescence, in their little corner of paradise. It doesn't take her long to find a disgruntled Luke sitting against their tree with his guitar three feet away, lying on the grass.

“You look so hot when you are frustrated.” Luke looks up and calms down when he meets her eyes. “I think you are the one who needs a song to relax now.” She adds, pointing out at the guitar. He nods and she picks it up, sitting between Luke's legs, her back leaning against his chest.

She blushes as she begins to play the song she finished composing just an hour ago, grateful that he can't see her face because of the position they are in. “I thank God for you all the time. Someone who knows my faults, but loves me despite them all. And you, I'll follow you just like that. Doesn't matter how far, If I have you, I have it all.”

She feels him kissing her hair, his heart beating just as fast as her own. “I think I found my soulmate, yes I do. I think I found the one who knows me. I don't wanna think about what it'd be like without you. Anywhere, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

When the song ends she freezes for a few seconds and Luke takes the opportunity to take the guitar and move it to the side, so that he can hug her closer to him, his arms around her waist while his chin rests on her shoulder.

“Your voice always shows me the way home.” Luke whispers sweetly in her ear, and Y/N instantly remembers Reggie said something similar in the truck, which means Luke had probably already expressed that thought to his friends, causing her to melt in his arms. She guesses it’s her turn to apply the famous Luke Patterson defense mechanism.

“What happened? I know you guys did pass, Bobby was so happy he wanted to cry.”

“We passed literally with the last ticket. They said they couldn’t see Sunset Curve, just another wannabe garage band, definitely not material for the big leagues.”

“Wow, that’s rough. And how did you react?”

"Reggie and Bobby held me by the arms and Alex by the back to stop me from going berserker." She smiles softly, imagining the scene clearly, and stretches her neck to see the guitarist's face.

“Lu, what else is bothering you?” He looks deep in thought, like he's forming multiple ideas in his head.

“I don't approve of everything they said, but I think maybe they have a point. I spent so much time trying to get the band to be material for a discography that I neglected our essence."

“Okay, then what’s the next move?”

“I have an idea, but I can’t do it without you.” He admits, staring deeply at her with his beautiful hazel eyes.

“Good thing you don’t have to. Luke, remember when we first met?” She asks, trying to distract him from his problems at least for today.

“Yeah, we were six. I told you I wanted to be a rockstar, and you said Lucas wasn’t a rockstar name, that I had to change it immediately.” He recalls with a soft smile.

“After that day you got angry every time someone dared to call you by your name.” She remembers the scene with a laugh.

“You have to admit, little Y/N was wise, you wouldn't have a band if you were still a Lucas.” He chuckles, caressing her hair lovingly., and she leans at the touch.”

“From that day I knew that I always wanted to be by your side. All my life I have tried to be someone, someone for my parents, for my friends, for the public, but I have never had to try with you.

I've always been someone for you... and that's more than enough. You've always known who I am, even when I'm not sure myself. You have always been patient and have loved me unconditionally, and I want you to know that you can always expect the same from me. god, I know since I was a kid I would do anything for you. I need you, I’m tired to wait for the correct moment, because every moment with you feels right.”

“Lu… is this a love confession?”

“I- yeah. But it’s so hard, I feel so many emotions right now and I really want to kiss the hell out of yo-” Y/N pulls him towards her connecting their lips hungrily, both melting into each other's mouths. He bites her lower lip slightly and separates a few seconds to admire her face, her eyes shining with love and lust.

“Darlin’, you can admit now your thing for rockstars. That’s exactly how you see me when I’m on stage.”

“I’ll admit it as soon as you admit you pretended to drown in the pool last year so I could give you mouth-to-mouth.”

“I would never do something like that… again.” They both laugh adoringly and Luke kisses her hard, determined to make up for all the lost time.

“Hey lovebirds, it’s time to go, Alex is minutes ago to snap at Reg and I don't want to end in the middle again, Reggie bit me last time.” They part abruptly, looking up at Bobby with daggers in their eyes.

“You can’t be all annoying all the time about our relationship and then ruin a moment like that.” she says clearly frustrated.

“Wow, eager much, muffin? someone is already whipped huh?” He jokes, causing Luke to put his finger in his mouth and then in his friend's ear.

“Bobby If you don’t shut up I swear-” She starts to fight, but he interrupts her.

“Are you guys dating now?” They both turn to see each other and smile, Luke wipes his hand on Bobby's shirt as they start to walk to the truck and entwine it with Y/N’s.

“Yeah, yes we are.” He declares with a majestic smile.

“Dammit I lost the bet to Alex. He said this was finally the year and I bet on another five.”

“Five? Really?” The girl asks, unable to believe what she hears.

“What? You have been in this strange relationship for about 12 years, five more years would be easy peasy. Reggie bet that you would make your lives with someone else and meet in 20 years to realize that it was always you." He informs them as they reach the vehicle, she looks in shock for a moment but then recovers and feings anger.

“Yeah, that’s it we are walking.” She decides, pulling Luke onto the sidewalk.

“You're just looking for an excuse to make out with your new boyfriend, you never get mad at us, not even the time Reggie stuck gum in your hair.” Bobby calls her out, and Reggie rolls the window down to emphasize that it was an accident.

“Okay yeah, I want to make out with my boyfriend and stick my tongue down his throat because as you mentioned, I've been waiting for many years to be able do it. So get lost or admire the show.” Reggie quickly closes the window again, and Bobby makes a disgusted face before almost running to the driver's seat.

“I’m so in love with you.” He admits with loving eyes, and she stands on tiptoe to fill him with light kisses on the forehead, nose, cheeks and lips. “I’m so in love with you, Lu.”

“Hey darlin’, I know you said the tongue in the throat thing to scare them away but…” He tries to explain himself, but she stops him knowing exactly what he wants to say.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m kissing the hell out of you as soon as we get home.” She reassures, caressing his hand.

He lets out a big sigh of relief. “Good.” A big smile on his face while pressing her hand a little harder to make sure this is actually happening.

Thanks for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @strangerthanfanfiction713 @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc @bibliophilewednesday @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @tuttigunner @dpaccione @justalittleweirdoo

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson fic #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson #luke jatp #jatp luke #luke patterson fanfiction #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie fic #jatp imagine #julie and the phantoms

[lavenderbexlatte]

holding you like this

stray kids  13.4k words female reader insert Reader x DILF!Hwang Hyunjin  EXPLICIT/NSFW

🖤 warnings: original characters (adult f and child f), single father, unhealthy family dynamics, relationship insecurity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, breeding/impregnation kink 🖤

🚨🚨 the unhealthy family dynamic warning applies to hyunjin and his parents, NOT hyunjin and his child! there are elements of emotional manipulation and emotional neglect of an adult child by his parents. please don’t read if you would find this content triggering!

connect with me! / masterlist

You prepare yourself for a lot of social what-ifs when you go to the grocery store, but a three-year-old almost taking you out with a headbutt to the knee isn’t usually one of them.

On this particular day, you’re standing in the coffee aisle, scanning the rows of beans, trying to pick between a new roast for your French press, or a new flavor for the automatic drip. You’re not having an easy time of it, either. They all look the same to you. And really, is a French vanilla that different from a caramel swirl? Why are some of these so expensive? They’re all just beans, aren’t they?

The coffee dilemma is taking up all of your conscious focus, so you don’t even hear the tiny footsteps clicking against the industrial tile floor. You don’t see the head of bouncing dark hair, barreling toward you. You don’t notice anything until a tiny body slams right into your leg, and little arms wrap around your knees.

You look down in shock, rocking back to steady yourself so that you don’t topple right over. Your phone nearly slips out of your hand, right onto the head of the very small human peering up at you with big round eyes.

It’s a little girl.

She has glitter extensions and a floor-brushing gown, looking royal and in control right down to the tiny Mary Janes on her feet. She doesn’t look confused or perturbed at all, not even bothered by clinging to a stranger like this. Well, that makes one of you.

“Hello,” the little girl says, her voice high but confident. “What’s your name?”

You tell her, and she nods wisely, in a way that looks incredibly bizarre for someone so young.

“Okay. I’m Minnie,” she says.

“Minnie,” your repeat.

The girl nods, her arms still clamped around your knees. “Like the mouse.”

She points at one of the barrettes clipped into her meticulously styled hair. It’s a flat metal cameo pin of Minnie Mouse, smudged with tiny fingerprints as if she touches it often.

“Cool,” you say awkwardly.

You reach down and gently unwind her arm from around you, freeing yourself, and you kneel down so that you’re at her height. She just looks directly at you, and you can feel the judgmental intelligence behind her gaze. It’s kind of scary.

“I’m three and three-quarters,” she tells you proudly.

“Where’s your grown up?” you ask her.

You don’t really think you’d be much help to this child. You certainly don’t want to have to be responsible for her for too long. Where are her parents, or whoever she came here with?

“My grown up?” she mulls it over, “You mean Daddy. He’s lookin’ at juice.”

“Why aren’t you with him?” you ask.

“Ran away,” she shrugs, “If I run, Daddy chases me.”

“Do you think Daddy likes chasing you?” you ask.

You immediately curse yourself inwardly for asking a preschooler a half-sarcastic question like that. You don’t know this kid from Eden, you can’t just mouth off at her. But Minnie is sharp, and she just smiles at you winningly.

“I dunno. Prob’ly not,” she shrugs again, and you marvel at the big attitude in this small person.

“What if he’s worried about you?”

“Then he should find me,” she answers.

And with that, the kid sits down cross-legged on top of your feet, settling her gown neatly around herself. You’re floored. Apparently, you’ve become the shade tree that this kid is gonna sit under until her poor father finds her. Are all little kids this weird?

You’re not sure what to do. If you move, if you take her and go searching, you could spend all day missing her father at every turn. That means you should probably just stay here and wait for her dad to come to you. At least this way you know the kid’s safe and not running around to meet strangers more dangerous than you.

You get back to your coffee dilemma, as Minnie just sits primly on your feet. It’s not like you could walk away without dislodging her, anyway. And as you pick out a package of coarse-ground beans for your French press, you hear it.

“Minnie!”

An exasperated voice, from the end of the aisle. You turn toward the sound, and the person that you see takes your breath away.

It’s a man, tall and slim, long legs in wide-legged denim. His hair is shoulder-length and blonde, the top half of it held back in a small ponytail at the crown of his head. His face is equal parts angry and relieved, dark thick brows furrowing. The guy is incredibly, distractingly beautiful. You kind of can’t believe it.

“Daddy,” Minnie pipes up, as if confirming it to you.

She leans back against your shins like you’re her personal throne. You look down at her, and then back up at the man as he approaches, dragging a half-full shopping cart behind him.

“I am so sorry,” the man is saying, “She has a mind of her own and sometimes-”

“I made a friend!” Minnie interrupts her father.

The man leans down and scoops his daughter off your feet, plunking her into the basket of his shopping cart.

“You’re in jail, princess,” he tells her curtly.

“I’ll get out,” she replies.

You’re sure that your jaw is actually hanging open several inches as the man turns back to you to continue his rambling apology.

“I really am sorry, um…” he pauses.

“(Y/N),” you fill in for him.

“Right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you dismiss, “She just wanted to talk. And I wanted to make sure she didn’t get lost. More lost.”

The man grins at you sheepishly. “I’m Hyunjin, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

“I like her,” Minnie calls from her shopping-cart jail cell, “She’s funny.”

“That’s a high honor,” Hyunjin tells you soberly.

“I’m glad to finally hear that someone thinks I’m funny,” you say.

Hyunjin laughs. He has a nice laugh, sharper and shriller than you would have thought, but full and honest. He looks just like Minnie when he smiles. You’re thoroughly charmed.

“Well,” you say, tugging yourself back to reality, “I have some more shopping to do, so…”

“We’re friends now!” Minnie announces.

Hyunjin glances at his daughter. “You two are friends now?”

“Yes!” the girl insists.

Hyunjin returns his gaze to you. “I guess you’re friends now. Any chance you’re up to see us again sometime?”

“See you again?” you repeat, nonplussed.

“Just for coffee, maybe. A playdate?” Hyunjin’s grin is teasing.

“Doesn’t she have other friends?” you ask, “Friends who are more…three years old?”

“Oh, sure. but Min is an equal-opportunity befriender,” Hyunjin says, “She likes everyone.”

You really don’t know what to make of this precocious little girl who’s just declared you her new friend and her very indulgent but admittedly very attractive father. You might consider that he was hitting on you, except that he’s clearly just bending to the will of his very willful child, and that he’s way, way, way out of your league.

“Sure,” you say, finally.

“Cool.”

Hyunjin pulls out his phone and offers it to you with the keypad open. You enter your number and call yourself, and you save each other’s data into your phones. ‘Hyunjin (Minnie’s Dad)’ goes in as your newest contact.

“We’ll text you to make plans!” Hyunjin promises, as he wheels his cart away.

“See you later!” Minnie calls.

She waves furiously at you until the two of them round the corner to the left, toward the checkout counters. You’re left standing there with your package of coffee and butterflies in your stomach.

Just like that, you have a new friend.

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

When you do eventually get a text from the number saved as ‘Hyunjin (Minnie’s Dad),’ it’s abundantly clear which of the two is doing the texting.

‘hello!!!!!!’ ‘yo u have to wear’ ‘princess dress!!!!!’

It’s a Thursday afternoon, and you’re at work, sat at your desk overlooking the production floor. Your lunch is just about to end, the boys in assembly below are already getting back to it, and you need to make this quick before your next meeting.

Hyunjin must have helped with the spelling, but that is definitely a message direct from Minnie. You’re debating how exactly to respond to this message, when a call comes in, instead. You answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi!” The voice on the other end is unmistakable.

“Hi, Minnie,” you say patiently.

“Did you get my text?”

“Of course,” you answer.

“Good. Wear your princess dress,” she says decisively. “Talk to Daddy now.”

The phone clatters loudly like it’s been dropped right on the floor, and you hear a shout in the background. You wince at the noise, but keep the phone pressed to your ear until Hyunjin’s voice replaces his daughter’s.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, “She decided that PJ Masks are more important than this phone call that she DEMANDED I make to invite you for coffee on Saturday.”  

“Coffee, huh?” you repeat.

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” Hyunjin says.

You can hear real hesitation in his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him, “No, no, I think it’s cute. It’s okay.”

“She just never takes to strangers this fast,” Hyunjin explains, and you can’t quite fathom why that piece of knowledge makes your stomach swoop. “I wanna encourage her to see the world as kind of…safe and fun, y’know? Is that stupid? Like, she shouldn’t just run around with strangers, but she shouldn’t be afraid of the world, either.”

“That makes sense,” you assure him.

“We had a talk about it, I think she understands the difference.”

He’s kind of rambling at you. You wonder how often Hyunjin gets a chance to talk parenting with someone.

“No, really, I understand,” you say, “I’d love to do coffee.”

“Great,” he says, “You can meet us at this café…I’ll send you the address. It’s called Mama Dining.”

You’ve never heard of it, but you trust Minnie’s taste. Hyunjin, you can’t say for sure. But you trust that little girl with more blind conviction than is probably necessary.

“Okay, see you then,” you say.

“Cool.” You can hear Hyunjin’s smile in his voice. “Bye, (Y/N).”

“Bye!” comes Minnie’s voice, far away but loud, and you know that she must be screaming as loud as she can.

You laugh, and you hang up.

--------------- Mama Dining is a small glass-front piece of realty across from a folk medicine shop and underneath a square brick apartment building, a few metro stops away from the area where you live. It’s so stuffed full of potted plants and flowers in vases that there’s barely any surface area for anything else, but it’s clean and bright inside. The tables are mismatched with their chairs, and the whole place smells like coffee and sharp herbs and fresh bread.

It’s homey, that’s the word for it. Cozy, and homey.

You’d taken your pint-sized new friend’s advice to the letter, busting out one of the nice dresses that you save for special occasions. The last time you wore it was to a coworker’s wedding; it’s light and floaty and floral, a long floor-length skirt over a tighter inner slip. It’s the closest thing you have to a princess dress. But it’ll have to do.

You check your reflection in the glass as you pull the door open, bells tinkling above your head. As soon as you step into the café, a little voice shrieks at you.

“YES!”

Minnie is sitting at a table in the corner, in a different gown, her hair in an elaborate braided style, half-up and half-down. She’s looking at you with the utmost approval, and even though she’s a three-year-old, you still feel proud that you’re passing her test.

“A princess dress,” she says, satisfied.

“I tried my best,” you say.

You give a silly little spin on the spot, so that your skirt stands out for her, and behind you, someone laughs. You freeze, cheeks heating up.

“You look nice.”

It’s Hyunjin, because of course it is. You turn around to see him in casual jeans and a long sleeve tee, an apron tied around his waist. His hair is pulled back again, off his face. He’s gorgeous. But it kind of looks like…

“Do you work here?” you ask.

Hyunjin nods. “Easiest place to meet up is here, while I’m on shift. Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine,” you assure him.

“I’ll get you a coffee,” he says, “What do you like?”

You tell him your regular order, and he heads to the espresso machine to start it up.

“Oh,” he calls, over the sound of the grinder, “And if Judy comes in while you’re here, I’m sorry in advance.”

Judy? Your stomach does an awkward flip at the idea of him inviting you here if he has a girlfriend, or a wife. You don’t think you’ve seen a wedding ring on him, but…

Oh, well. Nothing you can do, at this point. You’re here for the kid, anyway, aren’t you?

You go over to the table where Minnie has set up camp, propped in a booster seat to reach the tabletop. She has a coloring book and a pack of glitter crayons in front of her, and you pull up the second chair to join her. Minnie stares at you for second, her cute upturned eyes so much like her father’s, and then she opens up her coloring book, flipping the pages as carefully as she can.

When she finds what she wants, she sets the book down and rips the page out. It’s a picture of a teacup and saucer on a table, with a pitcher of flowers behind it.

“This is yours,” she says, with the utmost seriousness.

“Okay,” you say, matching her tone, “Can I use your crayons? I didn’t bring mine.”

You kind of expect a kid as serious and assertive as her to be careful about her possessions, but Minnie just upends the crayon box onto the table.

“Yep,” she says.

She grabs a lilac color and dives right into her own coloring page: a dressing table covered in cosmetics and trinkets. You select a red crayon from the pile and join her, filling in the delicate pattern on your teacup.

You can’t explain why it doesn’t feel like babysitting, but it doesn’t. It feels more like…coexisting. Like this preschooler really is just happy to have your company.

What a weird kid.

Hyunjin comes over after a moment with your coffee. The café is empty aside from you three, so he sits down at the table with you, placing the cup with your drink down beside the precarious pile of crayons.

“Daddy can’t color,” the kid tells you.

“Really?” you ask, looking up at Hyunjin wryly.

Hyunjin raises his hands as if in defeat, “My talents lie in performing arts, not studio arts. Unlike this renaissance child, who can do it all.”

It’s obvious that Hyunjin adores his daughter. You can see it in his eyes as he watches her scrub her crayons across the picture, in the way he talks about her. You’re not around kids a lot, but you can tell that this little girl has a lot of love in her life. That’s probably why she’s so bold; outgoing, kind, and well-adjusted kids are usually well-loved kids.

You smile to yourself as you keep coloring, switching the red for a grey. And after a while, you’re aware of Hyunjin’s watching gaze focused not on his daughter, but on you.

Embarrassed by the attention, you look up and meet his eye. He’s just watching you, with a lopsided smile that shows all of his teeth and crinkly smiling eyes that emphasize the little mole under his bottom eyelid on one side.

“What?” you ask.

He gives himself a little shake.

“Sorry,” he says.

It seems like all he does is apologize to you when he’s done nothing wrong at all.

“I was just thinking, it’s really sweet that you’re here,” he admits.

“Sweet?” you ask.

He tilts his head. “Yeah. How many people do you know who would come across town just to hang out with a little kid?”

You take a sip of the coffee. It’s perfect. Maybe the best you’ve ever had. Is he even real?

“Well, she’s like the coolest person I’ve ever met,” you say, “Regardless of age.”

“Yeah, she is,” Hyunjin says fondly.

“I’m cool,” Minnie agrees.

The doors of the café open softly, and you and Hyunjin turn around simultaneously to see a young couple, maybe college students, seating themselves and talking softly. Hyunjin excuses himself to go help them, and you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

What are you even doing here?

Did you agree to come on this very strange playdate because you were so taken by a strange child that you felt the need to keep a promise you made to her? Or, on some level, did you just want to see Hyunjin again? Neither answer is particularly good. Or sane.

“You and Daddy can be friends, too.”

Your head snaps up when you realize you’d being addressed, and you regard Minnie. “What?”

“You and Daddy can be friends. You’re my friend, but Daddy, too.”

You hum, as if you’re really puzzling it over, when in reality you’re about to collapse from the embarrassment of this child inadvertently setting you up with her dad. Or maybe advertently. You have no idea how smart she actually is.

“How does it look?” you ask instead, holding up your drawing.

Minnie puts down her crayon and scrutinizes your picture as if she’s a museum collections pro scouting for art.

“Do pink flowers,” she says eventually, and she returns to her own drawing with the same intensity.

“Good idea,” you say.

You pick out a rosy pink color and try to will all your nerves about Hyunjin away. He’s just a new friend. The father of you new littlest friend. You can’t make this weird just because he’s good-looking. Hyunjin himself has vanished into the back kitchen, tucked away to prepare something. You can hear a stove going, cutlery clattering.

The café door opens again as you’re idly listening to the sounds of the kitchen. This time, it’s a middle-aged woman with a long black ponytail and a practical, motherly outfit. She greets the young couple cheerfully, and then she sets her eyes on you.

“My Min!” the lady coos, and Minnie looks up from her drawing.

“Hi. I’m coloring.”

“I can see that,” the lady says, coming up closer to lean on the table next to your casually, “And who is this?”

“(Y/N),” Minnie answers.

“I see.”

The woman is smiling, but her eyes are regarding you coolly, as if she’s sizing you up. You just offer her a nervous smile, unsure who this is or why she knows the kid.

Hyunjin emerges from the kitchen then, timing perfect, a plate holding a large grilled sandwich in hand.

“Oh, hey, Judy,” he says, on his way past to give the couple their lunch.

Judy? This is the Judy that he mentioned earlier? Not to be ageist, you think, but she seems too old to be Hyunjin’s partner. But romantic relationship or not, you can understand why he apologized on her behalf; she’s already giving you incredibly intense vibes.

“(Y/N)’s picture goes on the wall with mine, okay, Judy?” Minnie says suddenly.

“Sounds like a plan,” Judy agrees, “Now, is someone going to tell me who this young lady is?”

Moving very quickly and pretending that he’s not, Hyunjin rejoins the three of you over in your corner, setting a comforting hand on Judy’s shoulder. You can’t help but wonder if he’s doing it as a means of subtly holding her back.

“Min made friends with her at the store the other day after one of her famous mad dashes,” Hyunjin says. “And we figured the polite thing to do after that would be to invite her for a cup of coffee.”

“I see,” Judy says.

Her face softens at Hyunjin’s words, even though she’s still looking you over quizzically, like she can’t decide how to feel about you being there.

“Well, welcome,” she says, finally, “I’m Judy. This is my café.”

She extends her hand to shake, and you take it. Her hand is slim and pretty, heavy with a few jeweled rings and slightly roughened on the fingertips from hard work.

“She takes care of us,” Minnie pipes up.

“I try to,” Judy agrees. “They need all the help they can get.”

“I resent that!” Hyunjin says.

“But really, I just use this pretty face to attract customers,” Judy continues, waving a hand at Hyunjin.

He squawks his outrage, and you can’t help the smile that creeps over your face.

“The teens see this face and they come right in. It’s like magic,” Judy says, as if she’s being purposefully oblivious to how much she’s embarrassing him.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” you say.

And you mean it, too. Hyunjin obviously has an unconventional support system going on, with this woman who he introduced by her first name and not by her relation to him. It leads you to believe they’re not blood-related or anything. It doesn’t really matter, though. She seems nice, if not a little protective.  

“Nice to meet you, too,” Judy says, with such heavy finality that you feel as though you’ve just cleared a hurdle.

And from the way Hyunjin’s whole body perks up at her words, maybe you have. Why do you get the feeling that this was the equivalent of a meeting-the-parents moment?

As quickly as the atmosphere had heightened, it settles back to the lazy calm it was before. Judy pats Minnie’s head fondly and disappears into the back of the café, not to reappear. Hyunjin returns to his work, and you take back up the task of neatly filling in the coloring page, careful not to upstage your tiny host and her not-quite-developed motor skills.

It’s a slow afternoon.

The young couple eats their lunch across the room, adding only a quiet hum of activity to your surroundings. Minnie tells you stories while you work, regaling you with the deep inner workings of preschooler life.

“Their names are Sage and Ginger!” she’s saying happily.

You haven’t been listening closely enough, clearly, because you’re stumped. “Whose names?”

“The babies!”

“What babies?”

“From Blue’s Clues & You,” she huffs.

Oh. You vaguely remember the original Blue’s Clues show, but you can’t say you know exactly what she’s talking about. Is she talking about…the sentient salt and pepper shakers? Do they have babies? Why do they have babies?!

“That’s cool,” you say, with level enthusiasm.

Minnie looks at you flatly, but accepts your words with a nod. “They’re cute. So little!”

It goes on like that, bits of kids’ programming trivia and input on your crayon color choices. The couple leaves, and you can see Hyunjin zeroing back in on you as he lets them out with a wave and a call to come back soon.

“How’s it going?” he asks.

You pick up your drawing, for him to see. You’ve been finished with it for a while now (it’s a children’s coloring book, so it’s not all that intricate) but you don’t want to appear unengaged, so you’ve been going over your lines and blurring out the crayon marks. His eyes crinkle up with joy at the sight of it.

“Done!” Minnie announces.

She brandishes her own drawing, too, and Hyunjin beams at the two of you with equal pride.

“Can I put these up?” he asks.

“Together,” says Minnie.

“You got it.”

He takes both rough-edged pages and whisks them away to the counter. Behind the register, on an expanse of wall, there’s a collection of doodles and coloring pages that you hadn’t noticed when you walked in. They must all be Minnie’s; the bold coloring strokes are all the same, her heavy hand immortalized in wax and marker and glitter pen.

Hyunjin tacks up the pictures side by side on the wall.

It’s the tiniest gesture in the world, really. You can’t even count how many scraps of paper, how many school notebooks and work memos that you’ve scribbled on over the course of your life. You’ve colored kids’ menus at restaurants, done detailed adult coloring books at mixers. Somehow, this one ragged coloring page tacked to the wall of a café seems like a turning point in your life.

You wonder when you got so sentimental. It’s silly, but it’s there; warm happiness in your chest.

When Minnie begins to wilt, saying in not so many words that she’s getting tired, you know that your playdate time is coming to an end. It’s only been an hour and a half, maybe two, but that’s an awful long time to keep such a young kid occupied on one activity. You’re proud of yourself, honestly.

“She’ll go down for a nap soon, before dinner,” Hyunjin tells you softly, “You can head out if you want. I don’t wanna monopolize your day.”

“I think I will,” you agree.

It’s been a nice time, but you’re not one to overstay your welcome.

You say goodbye to Minnie, who insists on giving you another crushing full-body hug, and you make it all the way to the door before you realize Hyunjin is following you.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Walking you out,” he replies.

“I’m just going to my subway stop.”

“Then let me walk you to it,” he says.

You struggle to hold back your smile at his easy grace. “Okay, sure.”

The two of you set out into the afternoon, side by side, for the short walk from this inner part of the neighborhood to the metro stop that will take you back home. The breeze tugs at your skirt and ruffles Hyunjin’s apron, and you can’t help but sneak sidelong peeks at him as you walk.

“I hope Judy didn’t scare you too much,” he says.

“She’s intense. But I can tell that it’s out of love,” you reply.

He laughs at that, and you continue your slow meander down the unlined streets.

“She’s like an adoptive mom to me,” Hyunjin tells you. “I’m lucky to have her.”

“Oh,” you say, curious but knowing that you shouldn’t ask.

The two of you walk a while longer in your quiet bubble, but eventually, Hyunjin sighs.

“I don’t talk to my parents,” he says, “It’s not that crazy. Just how it is.”

“You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want, I understand.”

“And now I’m oversharing. Sorry,” he winces.

You shake your head, “It’s not a bother, I just won’t pry.”

Hyunjin considers this, and nods. “It’s just me and Min, so Judy’s been a livesaver. Mom and auntie and grandma all in one.”

Just him and Min, which means no wife and no serious girlfriend. That makes you feel a bit better. You’d hate to get in the way of a serious relationship, even indirectly. Minnie is a nice kid, and you like her, but you’re not her nanny or her babysitter or anything. You’d hate to be that kind of person, shoving yourself into a family where you have no business being.

“But…I wanted to know…would you wanna hang out again?” Hyunjin asks.

You laugh gently. “For Min? I’d walk into traffic. Yes, I’ll hang out again.”

“Not with Min,” Hyunjin says, voice soft and hesitant. “With me.”

The word that falls out of your mouth before you can stop it is, “Why?”

Hyunjin snorts, and then breaks out laughing, harder than you’ve ever heard him laugh.

“Because I think you’re cool?” he says eventually. “You’re cute and you like my kid, which is more than I can say about ninety percent of the people I meet.”

This was not part of the plan. Not that you had a plan, but come on. You were here to hang out with a super weird toddler, to entertain a precocious little girl because it’s cute and fun, not to be asked out by her dad. Her gorgeous dad, who’s so out of your league that it makes your head spin.

You spare a thought to wonder if he’s playing a prank on you.

“Unless…” Hyunjin draws away from you (when did he get so close?), “Unless you’re already seeing someone? God, I didn’t even think – I’m sorry, I just-”

“No, you cut in quickly, “No, I’m not-”

“Am I being weird? I’m being weird,” he laughs, and he almost sounds…nervous?

“You’re not being weird,” you assure him, “You just surprised me. I didn’t think…” 

“Then you’ll go out with me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say, surprising yourself, “Yeah. I will.”

Hyunjin’s smile is the fucking sun coming up. It warms you right down to your toes.  

“I’ll call you,” he promises, “I’ll call and we can make plans.”

“Okay,” you agree.

The dimly-glowing sign marking the subway entrance looms ahead, and Hyunjin falls back, as you approach the down escalator.

“I’ll call you!” he says, again.

You wave as you go down the escalator, and once he’s out of sight, you practically melt. You have no idea why life is throwing you this curveball, but you’re not complaining.

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

True to form, it’s Minnie who calls you some days later. Not Hyunjin, the adult who presumably has control over the phone and has to dial the call. No, it’s the toddler whose voice filters over the line, the toddler who is undeniably and ultimately in control of her father’s whole world.

“Hi, (Y/N)!”

“Are you supposed to be making calls?” you tease.

“It’s okay, I have a mission,” she tells you.

“A secret mission?”

“Maybe…” Minnie’s voice pulls away from the phone, and you can hear her shout, “Daddy! Is it a secret mission?!”

Hyunjin’s voice calls something in reply, and then Minnie returns.

“Yeah, a secret mission,” she says.

“What’s your mission?”

“We gotta know, do you like Japan food or Italy food better?”

“Hmmm,” you think out loud, “I think I just like food.”

“Me too,” Minnie agrees, “I just like food.”

There’s another shout from Hyunjin that you can’t make out.

“Daddy says it’s gonna be a s’prise, then,” Minnie reports.

“Surprises are fun,” you say.

“It’s okay?” she asks.

“It’s okay,” you confirm.

“Okay! I gotta go. Talk to you later!”

Minnie hangs up, and you burst out laughing so hard that tears pool at the corners of your eyes. She manages to make it sound like she has a high-powered meeting that you’re keeping her from. How does she hide all of that thirty-five-year-old boss energy in her cute little self?

But more important than the absurd circumstance of the call is the outcome. You’re going on a real date. With Hyunjin. You try to pretend that a whole swarm of butterflies haven’t hatched in your gut.

You have a date with Hyunjin.

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

The date goes well.

It goes incredibly well, in fact. If you thought Hyunjin was pretty and charming when he was in more domestic setting, with his kid and at his job, that was nothing compared to fully-focused-grownup Hyunjin on a date.

He dresses well, he’s funny and he’s gentle, he nearly cries because the dish you order to share is too spicy for him. He’s got all the puppylike charm of the young man that he is, and this underlying tired seriousness of the doting single father that he is.

You argue with him until he lets you split the bill for the meal, and he gives you a gentle kiss on the lips when he leaves you at your subway stop. It’s like a fairytale.

So you go out again, and again, and again, still. Sometimes it’s barbeque in your neighborhood, at an outdoor restaurant with great side dishes handmade by the older couple who own the place. Sometimes it’s just coffee and a long chat at a 24-hour café. You haven’t been to his home, yet, and he hasn’t been to yours, but it’s refreshing to just take things slowly with him, when the rest of life moves so fast.

Underneath the fun of being with Hyunjin, though, is the doubt.

Everything you see makes you more and more certain that he’s not a real person. He’s a dating sim come to life. He’s so good-looking that teenage girls stop to whisper and giggle about him, and passing aunties give him bold compliments. Dogs like him, service staff like him, little kids like him. And you understand it; you like him tremendously.

You’re not entirely sure why he likes you, though. Compared to him, you’re kind of reserved, kind of plain. It’s not that you don’t like yourself, but you’re a cottage to Hyunjin’s skyscraper, a woodwick candle to his disco ball. Just different realms entirely.

It doesn’t matter, you suppose, because regardless of his motivation or your understanding, you’re spending more and more time with Hyunjin, and Minnie.

You learn that it’s Hyunjin who does her hair every day, creating looks with pins and braids and tiny ponytails. He grew out his own hair to the length it is now to practice on, he tells you one day. You learn that Minnie only likes crunchy vegetables, raw carrots and the stems of lettuce, and that she can inexplicably eat much spicier food that her father can.

You’re comfortable being part of the mundane. But Hyunjin seems to have different aspirations for the two of you, in your casual and fluid relationship, still without titles or formalities.

“I want to take you somewhere nice.”

You glance up from your laptop, blinking to get the fuzziness out of your vision at you look at Hyunjin where he leans over the prep counter. It’s a weekend, but you have a pile of leftover work to get through before Monday, so you’ve set up camp at the café for the afternoon. Hyunjin is on shift, and he’s been slinging you snacks and coffees between customers. It’s been just the two of you, work obligations notwithstanding, and it’s been…domestic.

“This isn’t nice enough?” you quip.

“You know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes, “Like a real date.”

“Oh, so now you’re saying the first half dozen dates weren’t real?”

Hyunjin sticks out his thick lower lip in a pout. “What happened to the shy awkward person I met at the store? Bring her back, please, this (Y/N) is mean to me!”

You laugh. “Where did you want to go?”

“There’s this place I haven’t been to in years. It’s really nice, my aunt used to take us back when family outings were more my thing,” he says.

“Sounds okay,” you decide.

“You’d have to dress up,” he warns, “Like, for real. I’ll have to dig out a suit.”

“That’s fine.”

You turn your attention back to your laptop, trying to hide your flustered face at the idea of Hyunjin cleaning up extra nice for you, Hyunjin in a fitted suit and shined shoes. He might notice it anyway, though, if the smile that lights up his face as he turns back to the kitchen is any hint.

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

It’s decided that Hyunjin will pick you up from work and drive the two of you to your first fancy date. So that morning, you hitched a ride with a coworker so as not to strand your car at the office overnight, carrying your change of clothes in a bag. The downside of that was having to explain to your coworker what necessitated the change, and your team quickly found out that you have a date. The teasing hasn’t stopped all day, good-natured ribbing all during your shift, about stoic, shy supervisor (Y/N) going on a hot date with a mystery man.

You stand in front of the full-length mirror in your office’s nice bathroom, the one reserved for visitors who can’t pee with the staff. The one with potpourri on the counters and immaculate tile floors. You’ve gone for a menswear look yourself, wide-legged slacks and a silky blouse, and heels. Hyunjin’s already seen you in a nice dress, you figure, and besides, clinging to the businesswear that you already don at work gives you just a bit more nerve.

Somehow, a date at a nice restaurant that holds some sentimental value for him is more serious than anything you’ve ever done, more intimate than splitting cakes at the café and watching Minnie force the other kids to take turns on the slide at the playground.

You adjust your French tuck just a bit, make sure that your necklace hangs neatly, and deem yourself as good as you’re gonna get. You walk out of the bathroom, bag now holding your work clothes tucked under your arm, only to see a whole group of your production team boys waiting for you.

The company where you work is a decently large tech manufacturing plant, and as a production manager, you oversee a team of techs and assembly workers who tend to be on the younger side, and much more often are young men close to your age. They’re all nice boys who you’re quite close to, but they’ve already been on your case all day. Several of them are right here in the hall, now, ready to make fun of you the way that annoying little brothers are meant to do.

“Jeez, (Y/N), out for blood,” says Taehyun, his silica filter mask hanging off one ear.

“Don’t be gross,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“It’s true, you’re really going all out for this date, huh?” adds Jeongin.

“Quit it before I vom and then report you all to HR,” you say.

“Oh, come on,” says Taehyun, “I’ve worked for you for like two years and I’ve never seen you have fun on purpose before.”

“That can’t be true,” you argue, walking toward the front of the building with your little line of assembly-boy ducklings following behind.

“On your birthday, you asked us to get you a firm handshake and a new set of pages for your planner,” Jeongin deadpans.

“You’re Ron Swanson with tits,” Jaemin says.

“Charming,” you glance at him, and he shrugs.

“It’s true.”

Car headlights shine in the picture windows that span the front of your building, and you can make out a small red car sitting in the visitor’s parking right by the door.

“Please don’t embarrass me,” you implore the boys, as you haul open the heavy glass door to let yourself out.

“We would never do that,” Jeongin says, defensive.

“Maybe we should talk to your date, though,” Jaemin suggests, “Rough him up a little.”

“Yeah, please don’t ever do that,” you say, “I’m leaving now.”

The driver’s side window is rolled down, and you can see Hyunjin leaning out, waving to you. You walk around to the passenger’s side of the car as fast as you can, giving your stupid underlings as little time as possible to ruin things.

You slide into the seat and slam the door behind you right as you hear one of the boys yell, “GET HER HOME SAFE. BY TEN.”

“Oh my God, go, drive away,” you groan.

“Who are they?” Hyunjin asks, amused, as he backs out of the parking spot.

“They work for me,” you say. “They wanna intimidate you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“They must really like you,” he says.

“No, they just really like being annoying.”

Hyunjin laughs, glancing at you as he maneuvers onto the main road.

“You look really great,” he says, sounding a little bit shy.

“Thanks.”

“The restaurant isn’t far,” Hyunjin says, “But I wanted to look cool and drive you.”

“I already think you’re cool,” you tease.

“Well if you’d told me that before, we could have called a cab,” he says.

“Nah, I wanted to see your car,” you say, turning around in your seat to get a full view of the interior, “Big pink carseat and all.”

“Min’s constantly telling me to just get a pink car to match,” Hyunjin says, “I don’t know if I could pull that off, though.”

“With your good looks and princess hair? I think you could.”

“Good to know. Next car, pink,” he says.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying about the restaurant being close by, because the whole drive is less than fifteen minutes. You’ve barely relaxed when he pulls up to the street parking outside a modest building with a pretty marquee and rough brick siding.

“This is it?” you ask, peeking out at the building.

“Yep.”

You scrutinize the restaurant as two of you get out of the car, and you can tell instantly that it’s an upscale place. Everything from the valet in front to the fabric of the curtains reeks of steaks that cost a paycheck and truffles in every possible dish. You’re kind of excited for it.

The maître-d greets you warmly, and brings you to a table against the window, with a view into a small back garden full of lanterns and lit trellises. The table itself is a delicate wooden thing, with full-course silverware and origami napkins. Candles dance on the tabletop, a single red rose in a vase brightening the whites and silvers of it all.

Hyunjin must know a thing or two about romance, because you’re properly wowed. It’s so stereotypically wonderful, it makes for a great sixth-or-seventh date. You’ve known him long enough that you know he’s not trying to blindly impress you, but just to treat you.

You wonder what kind of family he has, that they would bring him to a place like this as a kid or a teenager.

When the waitress, a pretty young woman in server’s blacks, comes over, the two of you order from the set menu and argue only a little about what dishes to taste and what wine to have.

“They’re barely Brussels sprouts,” you’re saying, “They’re covered in oil and bacon and shit.”

“They’re green vegetables,” he counters.

“They’re gourmet, don’t be a baby.”

Starters come and quickly disappear.

The main course comes, and by this point, you’re a glass or so of wine deep, and Hyunjin is only looking more and more handsome, as your stomach starts to be comfortably filled and the drinks warm you up from the inside.

Hyunjin’s gazing at you between bites of his dinner, expression so soft that you wonder if he’s gonna lean right across the table to kiss you. It’s tender, it’s lovely, and it’s unlike any other date you’ve ever had.

But a woman’s shrill, furious voice shatters the entire atmosphere with a single sharpened word.

“Hyunjin?!”

It’s almost comical, the way Hyunjin freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth, eyes wide and startled. It’s only almost comical, because this emotion seems to be very real fear on his part. He keeps his eyes on his plate, but you look toward the sound.

There’s a woman approaching your table, thin and elegant and beautiful. She’s got only the faintest age lines on her perfectly made-up face, and her clothes are designer, a plum-colored dress that brushes her knees and a handbag worth more than your whole closet. She doesn’t even spare you a glance, zeroing in on Hyunjin as she comes to stand right beside the table, puffed up in self-righteous anger like a provoked bird.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” she barks.

Hyunjin turns his head so slowly that you wonder if he’s even moving at all, until finally he’s looking at her.

“Of all the places – what on EARTH are you doing?!” she asks him, tone stiff and angry.

It’s the kind of tone that you can imagine her using to yell at waitstaff, or berate the hotel bellhop.  She’s that kind of wealthy, you can just tell. You’ve been dodging people like this your whole adult life, working your way up in the tech field, littered with its new and old money. You glance at Hyunjin, but the urgency in his face tells you to hold your tongue.

“I’m eating,” he says finally.

“Your aunt told me you were still in the city,” she says, “I can’t IMAGINE what you’ve been up to that you haven’t had time to even call, the nerve-”

“Mother,” Hyunjin says evenly, “You’re interrupting a nice time.

Mother. This is Hyunjin’s mother?

As if she’s just noticed that you’re there, she rounds on you. “And who is this?”

The disgust in her voice makes your stomach twist unpleasantly. It’s been a long while since someone has been so openly dismissive of you. Not since you were a student, you think, but God does it hurt.

“This is my date,” Hyunjin answers.

His words are clipped, like he really doesn’t want to say more.

“Well, obviously,” his mother sniffs, condescending, “What is her NAME?”

“You don’t get to know that,” Hyunjin says.

You know that Hyunjin is distant with his parents. He’s mentioned that they don’t talk anymore, and that they don’t really know his daughter at all. But it speaks volumes that he doesn’t even want his mother to know your name.

“And where did you meet this shining example of gilt wood pretending to be gold?” she asks, “The community center? The food bank?”

“There’s no need to be mean,” Hyunjin says, much more calmly than you would be able to, “We’re trying to have dinner. You should leave.”

“I’ve finished my meal. I’m on my way out,” his mother says haughtily, “But I saw you and I needed to come say something.

“No, don’t let us keep you,” Hyunjin says, gesturing toward the exit with his still-full fork.

“Hyunjin, when are you going to give up this ridiculous act and come back to make things right?” she asks, and though the tone is sincere, there’s no warmth behind it.

“Never,” he replies, “Things are just the way I want them.”

This woman, in her all finery and dignified air, stamps her foot on the ground like a child having a tantrum.

“You’re making a mockery of our family, you know that, yes?” she asks.

“You’re the one yelling at me and embarrassing yourself in a restaurant full of people,” Hyunjin points out.

“You are an aggravating and ungrateful child,” his mother hisses.

“Maybe,” Hyunjin agrees, “But I’m happy.”

Perhaps sensing that she’s starting to make a scene, his mother glances around at the other patrons, who are trying to hide the way they’re listening in with varying levels of success. Your waitress is lingering by the edge of the service floor, eyes glued on the scene.

“You’ll come to your senses,” she promises darkly. “And you’ll come begging for my help. We’ll see if I take pity on you then.”

And with that, she turns around and stalks toward the exit, not even pausing as she barks at the valet to bring her ride around. You watch until she’s outside and out of sight, and then you focus on Hyunjin.

His hands are shaking so badly that his fork clatters against his plate. You reach out and cover his hand with yours, easing the fork out of his grip and laying it down. You feel horrible, and kind of sick, but you know that between the two of you, Hyunjin is worse, so you have to push that discomfort down, just for a while.

“Let’s finish our dinner, okay?” you say, “And then we can talk about this.”

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

The rest of the date isn’t agonizing, but it is uncomfortable. You chat, and joke, albeit without the same easy grace as before. Seeing his mother, and having her speak to both of you that way has really seemed to rattle Hyunjin more than a confrontation usually would.

You settle the tab, splitting it like you always do, and then you find yourselves on a bench outside the restaurant, set away from the main road. It’s dark, and it’s chilly, but it’s comfortable with the gentle atmospheric music from the restaurant marquee and the sounds of traffic.

“Min’s mom wasn’t ready for a baby.”

You glance at Hyunjin at the sound of his voice. He’s fiddling with the cuffs of his blazer, still looking distinctly unsettled.

“Neither of us were,” he amends.

“Was she a hookup?” you ask.

“A girlfriend,” he says, “But not…she was just a girl from a good family. Someone my parents thought would be a good match, so we dated for a long time.”

“A good match,” you repeat, “A good match for you?”

“A good match for the family,” he says bitterly.

“What does that matter?”

“Oh, it matters. Way more than what I want,” he says.

“They’re really rich, aren’t they?” you ask, thinking about his mother’s clothes, and her attitude, and pretty much everything about her, “Your parents, I mean.”

“Disgustingly rich.”

“Oh.”

“She’s a really nice girl, a good person. But she really didn’t want to be with me forever, and she certainly didn’t want a kid,” Hyunjin says.

“So what happened?” you ask.

“She broke things off when she got pregnant, which made both of our families pissed beyond belief. The proper thing to do would have been to get married, right? But instead she ended the relationship, and moved home,” Hyunjin says, “They took care of Min for like a year and a half, her parents and a nanny.”

“Not the mom?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “She just didn’t want a kid. Which is okay, more than okay. Our parents were the ones who wanted to keep the pregnancy, not her. I just wanted everyone to stop fighting.”

You just nod. Hyunjin is keeping this story so purposefully vague, not dropping names or placing blame or really showing any anger. You wonder how much time he’s spent thinking about this story, or telling it in different ways. He seems almost desensitized to it all.

“When Min was almost two, her mom asked if I would take on full custody so she could sign away her parental rights and be out of the picture for good. And I figured,” Hyunjin laughs bitterly, “I figured, better to have one parent that loves you the most than two while one is half-assing it.”

“No, I can see that,” you say.

“Minnie lived with me at my parents’ house until they realized that my ex was never coming back. They always figured we’d get back together.”

“Why?!” you ask, incredulous.

Hyunjin looks at you. “Because that would be the dutiful thing to do. Get married, stay together for the kid, avoid any embarrassing attention on the families.”

“Even if that meant you were both miserable forever?”

Hyunjin turns his gaze back at the ground, sighing. “My parents said they wouldn’t support me if I couldn’t even do that one thing right and convince my ex to do right by the families and marry me. But I wasn’t gonna force her. She’s a good person. just in over her head, and scared. And I can’t blame her for that. I can’t forgive her. But I understand.”

“So, what, they kicked you out?”

“Kicked me out, cut me off,” Hyunjin nods. “I used to be set for life, with their money to back me up. I could have fucked around forever, lived comfy. They took it all away because I wouldn’t marry a girl who didn’t love me and just wanted to live her own life.”

“You’re a good person,” you say.

“It was an easy choice,” he quips, some of his usual humor returning now that he’s gotten the stress of his story out of his mind, “Either my parents, who only love me conditionally, or my daughter, who loves the biggest and best out of anyone ever.”

You laugh, but you can’t shake the new strange feeling that has settled over you, now that you know all of this about him. Knowing that Hyunjin is the rejected son of a wealthy family, a silver-spoon kid with a heart of gold. It only validates some of those nagging feelings that in some unavoidable way, Hyunjin is far, far too good for you.

He’s given up a life of luxury and security for his daughter, and his freedom. You’re not about to make him compromise on anything else, ever. At all.

“Min doesn’t even miss any of them,” Hyunjin says thoughtfully, “Doesn’t even ask.”

“That’s good, I guess,” you say.

He shrugs. “Means that she’s not too fucked up from bouncing around like that as a baby, which is a fuckin’ blessing.”

“She’s safe and happy with you now, though,” you say.

Hyunjin grins at you. “But you know who’s been a great parent influence on her?”

“Who?”

“You.”

You laugh. “I’m no parent, trust me.”

“I dunno, you’re pretty great with her,” he says airily, “I don’t trust my kid with just anyone.”

“You gotta stop being so nice to me,” you say. “You’re gonna give me ideas.”

“Ideas like what? Afraid I’ll wanna take you out on a date? Introduce you to my kid? Oh wait-”

“Shut up!” you whine, nudging him. “I just…can’t believe you like me, sometimes. Like, that you really like me, like this.”

“Of course, I like you,” Hyunjin says, dumbfounded, “We’ve been going out for weeks.”

“Yeah, and that only started because Min told you that she wanted to be friends with me.”

“Did you really think that I got your number that day because I wanted you to be friends with my three-year-old?” Hyunjin asks.

“Yes!” you answer, totally honest, “Yes, I did. I think that you would do anything in the world for that kid, even something stupid like inviting me out.”

You stand up, suddenly needing some space, some air that isn’t warm from Hyunjin’s presence by your side or scented with his soft cologne. He just watches as you pace a few short steps away from the bench.

“It was maybe twenty percent because she was being so cute with you,” he says desperately, “But the other eighty percent was for me.”

You can’t believe that. Sure, part of you hoped for it, because it’s truly so insane to just let your preschooler make friends with random women in public. It makes sense for him to have an ulterior motive. You’d hoped that it was really him who was interested, even if he just intended to hook up with you and then cut it off.

It’s beyond obvious to you that you’ve fallen hard for Hyunjin, even in just this short time. The idea of him feeling anything like that for you is much harder to fathom.

“I know you care about me, at least a little,” Hyunjin says, standing up to join you, “At least, I hope you do. Something, some chance that you like me as more than a friend, or a casual date…”

“I do,” you say, voice strangled and tiny, “But you…you’re-”

“I’m what? I’m a father already? I have too much baggage for you?”

Your heart breaks a little bit more as he says that, as you imagine other people in the past dumping him with those exact words. The conviction in his voice is all that you need to picture it; a different person, a different night, the same outcome.

“No!” you insist.

“Then what?”

You bite the bullet, and you say it. “Because you’re beautiful, Hyunjin. You’re perfect. You have a wonderful kid and a nice life that you’ve built for her and yourself after all of that shit you went through. You…you’re too good for me.”

Hyunjin recoils like he’s been slapped. “How can you think that?”

“I just look at your life, and I can’t possibly picture you moving things around just to fit me in,” you say.

“How can you think that there’s not already space for you?! Can’t you see that you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time?” he asks.

“Because I’m…” you struggle, “I’m boring, Hyunjin, I don’t know! I’m not worth changing for.”

“That’s bullshit,” he scoffs. “You’re letting my mother get to you, which is just what she wants.”

“Then I’m just not right for you,” you say, trying to ignore his comment about his mother and how absolutely right it is. “You have this cute little picturesque life, and I have my normal job and my hobbies and my family and friends and I would just…be in the way.”

“You’re not in the way now,” Hyunjin says.

“We’re not a serious couple now!”

“Why can’t you just let me like you?!”

He’s practically yelling now, keeping his distance and nearly folding in on himself as he looks at you with eyes that are far too shiny. It’s not the yelling that gets to you, but what he’s saying.

“Because it’s scary!” you yell back. “I don’t want to lose you, or your kid, but I know that-”

“I can show you,” he pleads.

He draws in a little closer, like he’s afraid he’s going to spook you. Against your stubborn brain’s protests, you reach out to thread your fingers with his.

You don’t want to lose him.

But as disgusting and cliché and self-deprecating as it is, you just can’t fathom someone like him wanting to be with someone like you.

Hyunjin leans more fully into your gentle grasp, pulls you right up close to him so that the two of you are toe to toe, there on the street outside the restaurant, as cars pass by and streetlights cast their dim yellow light over it all. He’s looking right into your eyes, expression firm and warm and so, so Hyunjin. You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest as you scan his face for nervousness or insincerity, and find none.

He’s looking at you the way he looks at Minnie when she falls asleep on the couch watching Frozen 2 for the millionth time. The way he looks at Judy when her back is turned in the café.

“I’ll show you that I mean it,” he says again, “I’ll be here for you. I’ll support you the way that you’ve supported us. I’ll love-”

He can’t get to the end of that sentence, because you wrench your free arm around his neck and pull him down to kiss you. He startles, lets go of your hand, and you freeze, thinking you’ve miscalculated the situation and gone too far. But he recovers quickly, wrapping both arms around your waist. He adjusts you so that you’re flush against him, and kisses back, harder.

His plush lips are wine-sour and soft, and he molds them against yours like he’s starving for it.

“My place,” he says, pulling back just the slightest bit so he can speak, “My place.”

“But-”

“Min is at Judy’s for the night,” he says, “Please.”

You want to. You want to so badly that your head is spinning, that your heart is beating out a rhythm against your ribcage. He’s here in front of you, wrapped up in you, so handsome and so unattainable…

Well. You think that Hyunjin is making a mistake. But if he’s gonna make it, you’re gonna enjoy every minute of it.

“Okay,” you breathe.

“Okay, or yes?” Hyunjin says, “I need a real yes.”

You hesitate. You decide. You say it.

“Yes.”

Just like that, he’s pulling you down the road to his car and opening the passenger’s side door for you. His place is across the city from here, so you settle in for what’s sure to be the most impatient car ride of your life. Anticipation drags out the minutes, as the energy between you grows so tense that you’re sure one of you is going to snap and start things up before you even get there.

But you’re spilling out onto the sidewalk in front of his building before you know it, Hyunjin’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you.

You’ve been to his place before, to meet him outside for dates, but you’ve never gone inside before. It’s a regular villa building, boxy and painted a demure white, and he leads you up the metal stairs to the third floor.

“I’m not trying to pressure you into anything,” Hyunjin says uncertainly, as he unlocks the door.

“I know,” you say, “I wouldn’t have come up if I didn’t want…well…”

Hyunjin grins his understanding, and you follow him into the apartment, taking his lead as he kicks off his shoes. You peek around when he flips on the lights.

His home looks about the way you’d expect: modest-sized and full of plain, sturdy furniture that looks like it could take a few hits. The décor is understated, intending to be an atmosphere of minimalist modernism, except that a girly, demanding preschooler definitely lives here. Drawings cover the fridge, the corkboard on the wall, the dining table with its one normal chair and one pink booster seat. Toys, hair accessories, and art supplies sit on shelves, in baskets, on end tables.

“It’s cute,” you say.

“Hm?”

Hyunjin pops his head out of the kitchen, now sans blazer, where he’s switching on more lights. He obviously has a just-gotten-home routine, and he’s not about to abandon it just because you’re here.

“This place. It’s cute,” you repeat. “It suits you.”

“It’s small,” he says with a shrug, tossing his blazer onto the back of the couch, “But we each have a bedroom and that’s really all that I can ask for. You ever shared a bedroom with a toddler? Not cool.”

“I’d like to see your room,” you tease, cringing at yourself instantly for making the dumbest of the dumb jokes.

But Hyunjin’s expression is just dangerously joyful, like he’s really taking it to heart.

“I’ll give you the grand tour,” he says.

“Sounds like you’re plotting.”

“I did tell you that I would prove it to you,” he says, drawing in close to you again, “How much I care about you.”

“The only way you know how to do that is with sex?” you ask playfully, “That’s sad. Maybe expand your vocabulary, first.”

He looks down at you, amused and just slightly frustrated. “Why can’t you make this easy for me?”

“Nothing with me is easy,” you say, “You should get used to that.”

“I dunno. You’re kind of easy to love.”

There he goes again, with that word. You can feel your cheeks burning, unable to process such casual affection from someone you like so much.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask.

“As much as you want,” he promises.

You slot yourself comfortably into his arms and lean up to kiss him. He’s got such ridiculous plush lips, soft and sliding against yours, and he holds you like you’re something precious. It’s an overwhelming amount of attention, but you let yourself bask in it.

“C’mon,” he says, “I’ll give you that tour.”

He winks, and then he releases you, walking across the small living space toward the doors on the far wall. Following him is second nature, at this point, and you pad after him.

“This is Min’s room,” he tells you.

He cracks the door on the right, so that you can see a peek of the pink explosion on the other side.

“She picked all her own décor,” he says.

“I’m starting to think that pink is just your favorite color, and you’re using the kid as an excuse,” you say.

“You’ll never get me to admit it,” he grins.

He opens the door on the left, and this room is soft woods and earth tones. Definitely an adult’s room, almost stark in its lack of personal effects. It’s dark except for city lights filtering between the open curtains, casting the room into a seductive kind of shadow. You follow him into the room, grinning to yourself.

“Bed looks comfy,” you say.

Hyunjin sits down on the edge of the bed, strong thighs in dress pants drawing your eye shamefully quickly, and fixes you with a look.

“Come find out,” he offers.

You can’t keep being so self-conscious about this. It’s Hyunjin, it’s only Hyunjin, your friend. One of your dearest friends. With his supermodel face, and his long blonde hair falling out of its ponytail in wisps around his cheekbones, and the outline of his cock against his thigh-

Fuck.

Something in you snaps. You climb into his lap, settling yours knees on either side of his hips, winding your arms around his neck to pull his mouth back against yours. He laughs into the kiss, his hands landing on your hips and pulling you down harder into him.

“See?” he says, voice low, “It’s not so hard to open up to me, is it?”

“I think you’re making a mistake,” you mutter.

“You’re so mean to yourself,” Hyunjin chides.

You cock an eyebrow at him. “I can be mean to you instead.”

He just laughs again, grinding his hips up into you briefly. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, distinct even through the layers of clothes that separate the two of you.

“Can this come off?” he asks, plucking at the collar of your nice silky blouse.

“Yeah.”

His answering smile is dark and satisfied, conniving in a way that makes your pulse jump. Hyunjin is so calm and sweet most of the time, cheerful in a way that suggests naivety. You almost worry about him, sometimes, worry that to other he’ll come across as just pretty and dim. Why are you getting the feeling that you’ve stumbled across a very different part of him, tonight?

“D’you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he asks, against your collarbone, as he unbuttons your blouse down your chest, down your stomach.

“How long?”

“Too long. Way too long.

He’s pushing your shirt off your shoulders before you know it, reaching around to unhook your bra. His hands are firm and certain, the stumbling hesitation that he’d shown while asking you out nowhere to be found. Here, apparently, he’s absolutely comfortable.

Your shirt and bra are discarded carelessly, and you’re surprised that you feel no shyness at all when Hyunjin cups your breasts in his hands and thumbs over your nipples.

“Knew you’d be pretty,” he says.

“Shut up,” you mumble.

He gives you another one of those feline grins.

“Watch it,” he warns.

Hyunjin hooks one arm around your back and flips the two of you over so that he’s on top, all but dragging you up to the middle of the bed. You’re sprawled on your back under him now, bouncing gently on the mattress with the force that he’d used to move you.

“You’re even prettier like this,” he smirks, “I like the slacks, by the way, very professional. I didn’t tell you that earlier.”

“Thanks,” you reply, breathing heavy, unsure how to handle this new Hyunjin and his blinding confidence.

“Can those come off, too?”

“What about your clothes?” you whine.

“We’ll get to that,” he promises.

He only needs one hand to unbutton, unzip, and tug your slacks down to your knees in one fluid motion, and he move aside so you can kick them off all the way.

“These are so you,” Hyunjin says.

You’re confused, until you look down yourself to see the panties you’d put on that morning: light blue with a pattern of tiny white running llamas. They’re not all that sexy, but they’re comfy, and it’s not like you’d explicitly planned on anyone seeing them, date or no date.

“I wasn’t expecting to get fucked tonight,” you say bluntly, “Give me a break.”

“Should have at least hoped for it,” he grins.

“I try to keep my expectations realistic.”

“You need to give yourself more credit,” Hyunjin says.

To punctuate it, he leans down over you fully, caging you in, and kisses you breathless again. He trails his mouth and hands down your front lazily, scraping his teeth against your hipbone where it peeks from the waistband of your underwear. He lets one long finger trace over your panties, across your covered pussy, and you can’t help how you twitch.

“Bet you’re fuckin’ delicious, too. Am I gonna get to taste?” he asks.

“Jesus Christ,” you groan.

The mouth on him…you’ve never had someone talk to you like this before, so tender and affectionate but also so obscene. It sends arousal pealing through you, the idea that he can be so into this, into you.

“Use your words,” he says, “Come on, can I taste you?”

“Yes,” you say, “God, Hyunjin…”

“Oh, I like how my name sounds, like that, listen to you,” he purrs.

He hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your panties off smoothly. Those are abandoned over the edge of the bed, too, and Hyunjin has his face between your legs seemingly as fast as he can.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” he says, warm breath fanning over your inner thighs.

“I will,” you say, “Don’t worry.”

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mutters, and he licks into you indulgently.

He’s got one hand bracing himself against your leg, one hand holding your folds open for him so he can dip his tongue into your opening, drag it slow across your clit.

“Fuck,” he says, and you swear you can feel the word against you, “Can’t wait to feel this sweet pussy around my dick.”

You moan. You can’t help it, can’t help the way you’re leaking your arousal against his tongue, the way his words and his gorgeous mouth are working you over. He pulls away from your core much too quickly, and he smiles when you whine.

“Just a taste, I said,” he placates.

He sits back on his heels between your legs to strip off his own clothes, but you haul yourself up to meet him.

“Let me do it,” you say.

“Be my guest.”

So it’s your turn to undo his buttons and give yourself an unencumbered look at his body for the first time. He’s slim, working muscle like a dancer, gorgeous skin under your hands. You kind of want to take your time, leave marks all over him and get to know every inch. But it does seem like he has an agenda tonight, as he impatiently shrugs off his shirt and undoes his own belt.

He rids himself of his pants and underwear quickly, and you really should have expected him to have a cock like THAT. He’s tall, and pretty, and of course, this part of him matches perfectly, long and thick and beautifully flushed.

“I’m clean,” you find yourself saying, “And on birth control, so if you want…we can…”

Hyunjin grins at you. “You just want me to fuck you raw.”

“I do,” you agree, “Fuck, I do.”

“I’m clean, too,” he tells you.

He nudges your legs apart to make room for him as he crawls back up your body, giving you a gentle playful shove so that you lay flat on your back for him again.

“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up, just like this?”

He’s looming over you, propping himself up with his hands planted on either side of your head. You can feel the tip of his cock nudging between your folds.

“That’s what I want,” you agree desperately. “Please.”

You don’t know why you’re begging him like this. Are you that easy to break?

But you can’t bring yourself to care how ridiculous you sound, because Hyunjin rocks his hips forward to dip the head of his cock into you, and you keen.

“What do you want?” he asks, with a knowing smirk.

“You know exactly what!”

“I can’t give you anything unless you tell me,” he says.

“I want,” you struggle, “I want you to fill me up. Please.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praises gently.

He rewards you with another thrust, a little deeper, sending a fantastic thrill through your body but still nowhere near enough. He works himself into you slowly, just a bit at a time, pulling completely out in between just to be able to sink all the way back in.

After what seems like an eternity, he slides in completely, hips flush against yours. You squirm, needing him to do SOMETHING, after taking his sweet time to get to this point, but Hyunjin seems content to just sit like this for a moment.

“I was right,” he tells you, “Feels fuckin’ heavenly.”

“Move, please,” you beg.

“Be patient. Maybe I just want you to cockwarm me for the rest of the night,” he teases.

“I would go home,” you say.

He laughs. “Okay, okay, you got me, that’s not what I want.”

So slowly that you know he’s doing it on purpose to torture you, Hyunjin draws back and fucks into you, hard and deep. It coaxes a punched-out moan from your throat, already so strung out though you’ve just begun.

He’s stronger than you would have imagined, driving into you with those narrow dancer’s hips and leaning down to press kisses to your cheeks, your mouth, the sides of your throat. His hands roam like he wants to be touching all of you at once: kneading into your breast, smoothing back your hair, bending your legs up farther so he can fuck you deeper, better.

“Look how well you take me,” he says.

You do look. You crane your neck up to look down the narrow space between you, as Hyunjin props up his body above you, and you can just barely see his thick cock working into you, disappearing with an obscene squelch that leaves no question about how much you’re enjoying yourself.

“So messy,” he teases.

“’m not messy,” you mumble, feeling sex-stupid but indignant.

“No?” he grins, “Not dripping wet for me?”

You want to argue, but he’s right; you can feel exactly how wet you are for him. You can’t remember the last time someone had you so desperate, so ready and eager to take what you’re given. Hyunjin falls forward to let your bodies press together, covering you and pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“Sweet girl,” Hyunjin murmurs, voice soft and fond and dangerous, “So good for me. So good with my kid. We could give her a sibling, you know.”

It sounds like something that just slipped out, the way that it’s so honest and the way that Hyunjin nearly gasps at himself. But your mind has gone one hundred percent completely blank. You let out a moan that’s mostly silent, as you let the implication of that wash over you.

You didn’t think you had a thing for, well…this.

But Hyunjin, looking at you like this, talking like this, honest and filthy, right in your ear. You know that it’s just dirty talk, that he doesn’t mean it, not right this instant. You both know that you’re on birth control. But the game of it, the idea of it…

“Yes,” you gasp, “Oh my God-”

“Oh, you REALLY like that,” he purrs, “I can feel you squeezing around me.”

“Hyunjin!” you moan.

“Is that what you want, baby? You just wanna be filled up with my cum, is that it?”

You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, and you doubly can’t believe how much you fucking love them, how you’re nodding and clawing your fingernails down his back at the picture he’s painting for you.

“Please,” you gasp, “I want – I want-”

Hyunjin draws up so that he can look into your eyes. “Baby wants me to give her a baby. Hm.”

Never in your life have you been brought right to the point of cumming just from someone’s words, but that’s exactly what’s happening. You can feel that perfect fuzzy electricity in your toes, building up. If you cum untouched, just from this, you’re gonna have some real soul-searching to do.

He seems to be at a similar place, fucking into you at a breakneck pace, still murmuring at you mindlessly.

“Want to fill up this sweet pussy, put a baby in you…Jesus fucking Christ, so good,” Hyunjin moans.

“Inside,” you agree, “Please – I need you, I just-”

As if he couldn’t be more perfect, Hyunjin slips his hand between you, presumably to bring you over the peak with him. The instant his finger presses against your clit, starts to rub a messy circle in the wetness spreading across your folds and your inner thighs, you cum.

You feel like screaming, but your voice is strangled, constricted with arousal, “Oh-”

“Fuck!” Hyunjin moans, like he’s agreeing with you.

One, two, three, four deep strokes, and Hyunjin bottoms out, pressing into you as he cums. Your hips buck into him on their own accord as he paints your walls with his cum, and you can’t help the newly-awakened corner of your mind that thinks about what could happen, if you weren’t on your birth control, if you did this again…

Goddamn. You really have some journaling to do later, or something.

“So perfect,” Hyunjin mutters, letting his head fall, burying his face in your shoulder, “So fucking perfect, how did I get so lucky?”

You’re the lucky one, you think to yourself. Your brain is simultaneously too full and too empty to say anything coherent, so you just lay there, wrap your limbs around Hyunjin as well as you can. He gets the message, you think, because he snuggles more firmly into you and turns his head to press a kiss to your jaw.

He’s warm, and kind of heavy, but you don’t want him to move, or to pull out of you. Just let this minute last a little longer, you think. Just a little longer, before you have to talk about what all of this means.

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

You only know you’ve fallen asleep when you wake up.

There’s a weight on your chest, pressing you into the mattress. For a second you think you have sleep paralysis, until you get a face-full of blonde hair and realize that it’s just Hyunjin, fast asleep on top of you.

“Get up,” you say, pushing on him gently, “And, ew, let me clean up.”

You can feel his cum drying on the inside of your thighs, where it trickled out around his softened cock while you slept. It’s kind of nasty, but the memory of all the hazy lust-filled things you said to each other makes you not mind so much.

Hyunjin yawns audibly, right next to your head, and then he peels himself off you.

“Sorry,” he grins. “Are your arms asleep?”

“No. Doesn’t your neck hurt from laying like that?”

He presses a smacking kiss to your forehead. “No. You’re a good pillow.”

Hyunjin pulls out of you and climbs gingerly off the bed. You squint around the room until your eyes find a glowing digital clock on his bedside; it’s only just past midnight.

“Shower and then sleep?” Hyunjin offers.

“Sounds good.”

He helps you to your feet, laughing as your knees threaten to buckle despite the cooldown period you’ve had.

“I hope I didn’t cross any lines,” he says tentatively, “I took a risk with all that baby talk and-”

“I liked it,” you admit, shy.

“Really?”

You nod. “I mean, we shouldn’t do anything stupid. Not right now. But just to play with, in the bedroom…”

Grinning, you fan yourself dramatically with your hand, like you’re a proper lady being overwhelmed with the saucy behavior of your male paramour.

Hyunjin laughs again. “Good to know.”

He shows you across the hall to the bathroom, men’s hair and skin and shaving products lined up next to rainbow-packaged kiddie shampoo and a small bin full of bath toys. As the shower is warming up, steam and the sound of rushing water filling the bathroom, he nudges you with his elbow.

“I knew all along that you were just into me because I have a kid,” he says.

You consider it, as you pull back the shower curtain and test the water. It’s warm, so you draw the curtain fully back and step under the spray. Peeking out at him, water starting to run down your back and warm your skin the way that Hyunjin’s presence warms you on the inside, you smile.

“Guess you’re just a DILF.” 

💕💕💕💕

#hwang hyunjin #stray kids #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin fics #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin smut #dilf series #kpop #kpop fanfic #tw emotional manipulation #tw emotional neglect #tw unhealthy relationship

[fggtwrmz]

✞ pretty little sinner ✞

Hihi!! Taz here with this accounts first ((technically second)) post! This ones a full fic so it’s v lengthy

warnings: dubcon, noncon is you squint, size kin, dirty talk, talk of breeding, oral, religious themes, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, talk of corruption, did i mention degradation? cus we went a lil ham on degration, very rough in general, no like seriously kuroos hella mean here

please mind the warnings and leave if your uncomfortable with any listed!!

wc: 7.6k

The whole small town that you had lived in had known you and your parents as the perfect catholic family, and why would they have any reason to not believe that? After all, you were always such a good girl. The pride and joy of your parents’ lives, you did good in school, never complained about chores, and attended church every Sunday. That’s right, you were the perfect little catholic school girl. 

That's what drew you into him. 

You looked so innocent, so pure, so breakable, he just had to have you. 

And that cute little cross necklace you wore to show your faith? He just wanted to rip it off of you. Have you worship him instead. 

When you had spoken to him you didn’t imagine what he would actually be like. He’d put up such a sweet facade. But that's all it was. 

A facade. 

“What’s someone as pretty as you doing in a place like this, Dollface?” Came out the velvety voice of the walking personification of temptation himself; Kuroo Tetsuro. 

You had heard about him through whispered rumors throughout the halls. He had an infamous reputation. But rumors were just that. Rumors.

So you humored him. 

“At….The corner store? I’m getting snacks, what does it look like?” You had to giggle. It was such a foolish question. So foolish that you didn’t know the weight that it had held. 

He had you hook, line, and sinker, you were just too innocent to realize. And he had been oh so sweet to accept your invitation to church on Sunday! Of course, you had to ask him, the house of God was as good a place to get to know someone as any. Much better than a dingy corner store anyway. 

His words were sweet and charming, even for just a small chat. There was a look on his face that made you suspect something, but the way he spoke pushed your suspicions. 

So when Sunday came and you saw him waiting for you at the door, in what appeared was his normal attire, you still gave him a big smile and waved him over to where you and your parents were. 

“Kuroo! You made it!” You wanted to embrace him in a hug, but you felt that would be a little too familiar for someone you had only met yesterday at a convenience store. “Of course I made it, I wouldn’t blow someone as cute as you off.” He spoke, caressing your cheek. 

Of course he wasn't nervous about being too familiar. 

You felt the warmth rush to your cheeks, the affection catching you off guard. 

“Sorry if I seem a bit underdressed.”  He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, though it seemed as if he didn’t care. His attire could be deemed inappropriate for a church setting. His ripped jeans, loose-fitting button-up shirt, Jordan Retros, contrasting with your pure white short sleeve blouse, frilly plaid green and black skirt, and shining black Mary Janes, and of course that shiny cross necklace that hung so prettily from your neck. 

You giggled, “No worries! I’m sure if you had shown up naked the lord wouldn’t turn you away.” 

And there you went again, going on about how the lord would love anyone, sinner or saint. He’d wondered how you would react if you knew the sins he had committed, had planned to commit. 

He wondered what filthy sins such a precious girl like you were hiding under that short little skirt of yours. 

He couldn’t wait to find out. 

You had taken your seat in the far back pews, opting to sit in between him and your parents. You’d been paying attention to your pastor, up until you felt a warm, calloused hand rest itself on your thigh. 

You looked up with a curious look, but Kuroo seemed to be more focused on the word of the holy father than you, so you relaxed at his touch. Keyword; seemed. 

And that wasn’t all he was planning to do, unfortunately for you. 

He rubbed up and down your upper thigh, occasionally squeezing the soft flesh between your skirt’s end and your thigh highs beginning, pushing your skirt just a little higher up your thighs to get more space. 

At that moment you thought you'd absolutely die if your parents looked over at the sinful act that was going on between you two, but when you looked over they were both too caught up in the pastor’s prayer to notice anything. 

His hand moved inward, causing your breath to hitch. His fingers practically brushed against your core, causing you to let out a gasp. It was loud enough for just him to hear but low enough to where your parents wouldn’t suspect anything. 

You placed a hand on his wrist, signaling it was not the time for this. He simply flashed a smirk, never looking down your way. His fingers made their way to your panties, gently rubbing against your folds, you ended up dampening the garments in the process. 

You sucked in your breath, now holding onto his wrist with a feverish grip, notifying him just how on edge you were. 

“Time for the communion! Everyone, form a line, children, teenagers, then adults.” Father announced.

You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding in. 

Your pastor had just saved you from eternal damnation. 

You and Kuroo walked in line, behind a couple of kids and in front of a few more teens. He rubbed down your shoulders and arms, sending chills down your spine. 

You held your hands behind your back as children took their crackers which were symbolic of the flesh of Jesus, their “wine” symbolic of the blood of Christ, and scattered back to their seats. 

When it was your turn, Kuroo made sure to keep a keen eye on the way your head tilted back ever so slightly when you had opened your mouth for the cracker to be placed on your tongue. 

He wondered what other situations you would be in such an arguably compromising position. 

You ate the cracker and took the small, plastic shot glass-like cup with you back to your seat. 

“Nah,” Kuroo shook his head, declining the offer of the cracker, and took the cup, downing it and throwing it in the small trash bin next to the pastor, walking back to his seat, not looking back. 

He sat back down next to you, his hands in his pockets this time. You stared ahead, waiting for anything to happen, the tension between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

Suddenly, he leaned down to your ear, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. “By the way, you get so fucking wet. It’d be pathetic if it weren't so adorable.” He hummed, sending heat straight to your core. 

You gasped at his words, looking up at him as he leaned back up. “Kuroo!” You whispered. “You shouldn’t curse in the house of the lord!” 

He looked down at you and chuckled slightly. 

“Oh princess, if it were just us here I’d do so much worse.” He teased, making your eyes widen. Heat rushed over your body, causing you to break eye contact with him. His gaze became too much to bear. 

Your parents and pastor had warned you of temptation before, but you had always thought it would be easy to overcome. You would have never thought that it could be something like this. His words and gentle touches felt like too much yet not enough all at the same time. 

You wanted it all to stop, but yet you wanted to beg for more. 

But you had to keep your composure, God's eyes were on you, you reminded yourself. 

But all you could feel was his eyes on. They were fixated on you. The thought alone of that insatiable look in his eye made your thighs pressed together and your throat run dry. It all made your head reel. 

And just like that, it was over. 

You had been so lost in thought that it took Kuroo shaking you to make you notice everyone getting up and gathering outside for the weekly catch-ups that turned, “just a few minutes dear, and then I swear we’ll leave,” into 30 minutes and plans to babysit Mrs. Johnson's grandsons next weekend. 

“Is it time to go?” Kuroo asked you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Only the adults are leaving, the teenagers and children stay for Sunday school, that’s why I’m wearing this outfit.” You whispered to him. 

He went silent until he proposed an idea that caught you way off guard. “We should go back to my place for bible study, I might be able to show you a different type of God.” 

Your eyebrows raised at the sudden invitation, you didn’t know what he meant by that, but you know it’d be rude to decline such an offer since he had come to Sunday worship despite his belief in this “other type of god”. 

Before you could answer he tapped your mother’s shoulder, catching the attention of both of your parents. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I speak to you for a second?” He asked politely. Your parents said their goodbyes to Sister Elise and stepped away with you and Kuroo. “Yes?” Came the voice of your mother. 

“Would it be alright if me and your sweet daughter here, a real angel if I do say so, could go back to mine so we can go over the Psalms? I would offer to do it over the phone but the lord’s word can only be understood in person.” It’s like he had the good Christian boy next door role down pact. 

Your parents looked at each other worriedly. “I don’t know, will there be a guardian to watch over you two?” Your father asked. “Yes sir, my fathers at work, but my mother will be there. I promise I’ll have her home at a reasonable time.” He promised.

Oh yeah, he has this little act down to the T, not like you could see through it though. You were so naive and thought that you could bring out the good in him with the help of good. How foolish. 

Your father looked at his watch. “It's five now, so have her home no later than eight. Understood?” “Crystal clear, thank you, sir. Shall we get going?” He asked you, a perfect and pure smile plastered on his face. 

He was too perfect, your parents already adored him. 

Too bad it was only to get in your pants. 

———

You were on his bed. His room smelled of pinewood and lavender. You drowned in the scent, loving every second of it. 

His room was nothing like yours, he had deep red walls, wooden floors, and everything looked to be either black or red, barely any other colors being seen other than the clothes in his closet, and some other things you couldn’t identify, but he shut it before you could get a good look. 

“Sorry if my room is a bit dirty, I didn’t think about cleaning up before inviting you.” He apologized, closing the curtains. 

You loved the way he spoke, it was like his words were coated with chocolate. His luscious and velvety voice made you think things, things the lord would frown upon. 

“No worries! Nobody’s perfect.” You kindly reassured him with a polite smile. 

He’d think differently, you were a goddess in his eyes. Every part of you, even everything he couldn’t see, not that he’d be in the dark for much longer. 

He chuckled, his eyes wandering down your figure, undressing you with his eyes, as you sat innocently on his bed waiting for whatever he might do. 

“So where’s your mom?” You asked innocently, catching him off guard. “What?” “You said your mom was here, where is she? I didn’t see her when we walked in.” 

He’d already forgotten. Typical. 

“Oh, she’s probably taking a nap.” He lied with ease. 

He didn’t think he'd be able to forgive himself if he was in the presence of his mother while thinking about such ungodly things. He planned to defile you, and he wanted to be the only one who even got close to experiencing you in such a state.  

“Oh well-uhm...I’ll be sure to be quiet so I don’t disturb her.” 

He held in a chuckle. There was no way that you would be quiet, no way you could be quiet when he got his way.

“So…. While I have no real interest in changing faiths, I have to ask about the god that you worship.” 

He had you right where he wanted you. 

He hovered over your frame at the edge of the bed, him standing and towering over you. He’d lifted your chin to look up at him with the tips of his fingers and said in a delightfully sinful tone, 

“Oh baby,” He leaned in close to your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “I’m the new god, and you're gonna worship me like I’m your true creator.” 

You felt yourself shrink, yes at the way he was menacingly towering over you, but at the way he describes his God—no, himself. 

“You-you’re...the god you were talking about?” You stammered, your hands on his chest, trying to make some distance between you and his dominating presence. 

Sadly to no avail. 

“Mhm, and you’re going to be a good girl and obey me, understood?” 

 "Y-yes, sir." 

"Awe look at you, using your manners without me having to tell you. Keep that up and you just might get a reward." He cooed.

You felt a familiar heat pool at the pit of you. 

What was he going to do to you? What were these sudden temptations? And most importantly why did you want more. 

This was god testing you, and you were failing miserably. 

You wanted so badly to give in to your desires. To leave behind the life of that sweet innocent angel that everyone once knew, you wanted to give yourself wholly to your new one and only savior. 

You were really doing this. 

You were abandoning the only faith you’d ever known for some stranger. 

For all you know he could be a demon from hell himself, here to stray you away from the path the lord had originally sent you to. No, he couldn’t be a demon. He was so sweet when the two of you had first met, and he was so polite when addressing your parents. 

You felt like Eve, being tempted with such a delicious specimen by the devil himself. So when he pushed his lips against yours harshly, like Eve, you gave in. 

His lips molded perfectly against yours. Your tongues were dancing in an elegant waltz that could only be described as heavenly. His lips tasted so sweet on yours. If this was the forbidden fruit you would happily taste it again and again. 

His hands roamed your backside, hiking your skirt up so he could get a feel of your cotton panties. Your breathing sped, feeling him caress your clad ass. You’d always been told to never let anyone touch you like this unless you’re married, but I guess your god was the only exception. 

That’s right. Kuroo was god now, and you had to let him do whatever you want.

Suddenly, he roughly pulled your skirt off, throwing it behind him. You whimpered, afraid he might’ve ripped your skirt. 

Feeling his rough hands run up your sides and into your shirt, he stopped kissing you to look down, causing you to let out a whine, missing the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“Awe baby, don’t look so sad, I’ll get your mouth back to work real soon.” He whispered, trying to unbutton your shirt. Trying. 

You could tell he was getting frustrated at how the buttons wouldn’t come undone. 

He groaned loudly, grabbing an open hole of your blouse and ripping it open, making the buttons of your shirt fly everywhere. You gasped, whining because now you didn’t have anything to come home in. 

“Kuroo! How am I supposed to go home without a shirt?” You whined, hearing him chuckle soon after. 

“Hush, you’ll be fine don’t worry, you won’t be needing it anytime soon.” Kuroo reassured with a smirk.

He unclipped your bra and threw it behind him, looking down hungrily at your tits, admiring how perfect they were. He cupped one of them and proceeded to place the other in his mouth. You let out a soft moan, awakening something fierce in him. 

“Oh fuck, I can’t wait to hear more of those sweet sounds, princess. That’s right, let it all out for me baby.” 

He kissed up your chest and to your neck, peppering kisses and bite marks on you. Claiming you. 

He bit down on a certain spot, making you moan out, your fingers getting intertwined with the back of his hair. Your legs clung onto his waist as he abused the spot with his mouth, leaving dark hickeys. 

Your moans became needier when he brought his knee up to your cunt, grinding it right against your clit, making you wetter by the second. 

You felt high on ecstasy, the pleasure becoming heavenly, but what made everything pure bliss was his words. 

The way he’d call you his baby, his princess in between kisses, and the best of all, his little sinner. 

Being called his sinner made you feel a different type of feeling. It felt wrong, you could feel the heavens looking down on you in disappointment with each response you gave him. 

Yes, you’d be giving up your oath to stay pure until marriage, but if it’s your god taking your virginity, what harm could be done?

When he lifted up off you, you were snapped from your pleasure. 

He was looking down at your body and you resting upwards on your elbows, wondering why he’d left. 

“Get on your knees.” It wasn't a request. It was an order. One that you, of course, didn’t even think to disobey. 

So there you sat. All pretty and kneeling in front of him as if he was an alter. 

 You looked like such a perfect slut in his eyes. Who knew that such an innocent little virgin could look like the perfect whore. 

He wouldn’t tell you that though. No, he wanted to warm you up first. Call you such sweet names, make you feel like his precious baby girl and then let you know just how much of a dirty slut he thought you were.

Knew you were. 

All you needed was a push in the right direction. And he would provide that push. 

“Now you want to know how to appease your god, don’t you?” 

You nodded from in between his legs enthusiastically. 

“Well, first, you have to atone for your sins. Now how would we go about doing that?” 

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say. 

“C’mon baby, be a good girl and use your words. How would you atone for your sins? Think about the position you're in before you answer.” 

You looked down at your legs which were folded underneath you and looked back up at him. 

“P-Prayer?” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at your innocence. “Oh princess, so innocent even in such a vulgar position baby. You’re gonna atone for your sins by sucking me off. You don't want me to be mad, do you?” 

Of course you didn’t. You didn’t even understand what sins you had even committed, but if Kuroo says you’ve sinned, you'll let him do anything to make you holy again. 

He stood up and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock and waving it teasingly over you. 

“Now stick out your tongue.” 

You did as you were told, eyes never leaving his cock. It was the only one you’d ever seen, and the only one you ever wanted to see. It was a good 7 or 8 inches and about 4 inches wide in girth. 

It had the drool pooling at the bottom of your tongue before falling on your thigh high socks. It felt every bit as sinful as it looked and it had your panties soaked. You'd grinded against yourself for some sort of friction. 

“Awe, so pretty for me, now listen to me, you're gonna take everything I give you, ok princess?” 

You nodded, feeling as if your voice would betray if you tried to speak. 

“What’d I say about using your words? Such a shame, you were being so good earlier.” 

“Sorry sir, please don’t be mad, I promise I’ll-I'll take it all. I'll be so good for you.” The words were coming out faster than you could control. If someone would have told you that you would be in that predicament about a week ago you would have laughed in their face. But here you were, begging for him to do something, anything. 

You sounded absolutely brain dead and he loved it. 

“Ah, yeah that’s it, that’s my good girl.” He said grabbing you by your hair and gently guiding you down his shaft. 

“Fuck baby, ‘gonna train this throat so well you’ll be ready to worship this cock with your mouth anytime of any day.” He growled, lowering your head down faster, soon hearing you gag over his length. You felt tears prick your eyes as he finally thrusted his full length in your mouth, going well past your limits. 

He lets out a dark chuckle, suddenly being cut off by a throaty moan. 

“Ah f-fuck princess you’re being such a good girl, now remember to breathe through your nose.” He reminded you, resulting in you looking up at him and nodding, letting him know you understood. 

Your parents would disown you if they knew what you were doing. Your pastor and priest wouldn’t even think of speaking to you. You’d only have Kuroo, but that doesn’t sound too bad. After all, you had devoted your life to your religion in the past, so what would be so different now? You’d just be able to indulge in such fine luxuries as getting facefucked after church. 

He put his other hand on your head, roughly shoving your head down, matching the bucking upwards of his hips. The action erupted a loud groan from him, throwing his head back. 

You could feel him all the way down your throat. 

“Oh yeah, that’s my good girl, fucking hell baby girl,” he moaned, you could feel his thrusting start to get uneven, your throat not having anymore time to adjust to his size and abuse. 

His pace was absolutely brutal but you sat there, taking everything he gave you.

On the inside you were smiling, happy to please your god, you felt so proud of yourself for making him feel good. Being his good little girl. His obedient little worshipper. 

Your eyes became watery, the way he roughly thrusted into your mouth made your throat hurt, which made your eyes water. 

He bit his lip, lowering the sound of the grunt he let out. “Mmf, baby you look so pretty right now, such a pretty fucking princess for me.” He grunted. 

You didn’t feel pretty, though. Your face was covered in tears, sweat, makeup, and ran down mascara. Your hair was under Kuroo’s grip, messily overlapping his hands. Strings of drool were hanging from your plump lips onto your thighs, not to mention your soaked panties. 

Kuroo on the other hand looked heaven sent. Hair messily askew and face tinted slightly red. Biting his lip while sweat slid down his forehead. He looked like he was graced by God.

He looked like he was graced by God.

You felt ashamed at how wet you got by just looking at him, but fuck was he sexy. 

He shoved your head down quicker and quicker, thrust harder into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck baby you’re gonna-you’re gonna make me—” His groans became more and more breathy, and his working became more and more sloppy, until you felt a warm, thick, sticky liquid coat the insides of your mouth. 

The foreign substance tasted bitter and you wanted to spit it—

“Ah ah,” he sang, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. 

You looked disgusting. He wanted to see you like this more often.

 “Be good and swallow for me, baby girl.” 

You gulped down the liquid, feeling it still in your throat, but it didn’t bother you enough to where you couldn’t breath. 

“Di-did I do good, sir?” You sounded absolutely broken, and it was like music to his ears. 

“You did amazing, I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard. Does your face feel alright?” He cooed, tucking himself back into his pants. 

“My jaw hurts, and so does my throat, but I’m glad I got to make you feel good.” 

Kuroo smirked, admiring what he molded you into. Such a dedicated disciple, you deserve an award. “Now it’s your turn. Come on, hop up on the bed for me,” he commanded, patting the spot on his bed beside him. 

You did so eagerly, not wanting to break your obedience streak. You sat on your feet, your hands resting on each of your thighs, smiling with the light shining beautifully in your eyes. 

Even as the mascara ran down your cheek, you looked so beautiful to him. 

“Lay down.” He softly said. You obeyed, as usual, keeping your legs closed in the air. You had no idea what he was thinking of doing. 

“Spread them for me, babes.” He commanded. You were confused, why did he want your legs spread? 

“Wait, why?” You asked innocently. His eyebrows furrowed.

 “Because I said so. You’re not really denying the word of your lord, are you?”

Of course you didn’t. You were completely devoted to him, so without further hesitation you spread your legs. He pulled your drenched panties up off you and threw them somewhere in the room. 

He ducked himself inbetween your thighs and planted your thighs on the side of his head with a secure grip. 

“W-Wait!” You squeaked out. 

“What’s wrong baby? You’ve been such a good girl, and good girls deserve rewards now don’t they?”  He acts like this is for you, when in all honesty it’s all been for him. This whole time he’s only been fulfilling his desires of turning you from a sweet and innocent princess into a filthy fucked out whore and he knows this will only speed the process a bit, you just so happen to be getting some pleasure out of it. 

“Yeah I gue- Ah!” A moan cut you off when you felt him lick up your wet folds, moaning your legs jolt up and your back arch. 

He plunged his tongue into you, his thick tongue thrusts into you, making your moans come out in squeaks. You felt absolutely amazing already. 

His tongue circled around your clit, pushing his tongue in and out of you in patterns; leaving his tongue in, out, for a second, then in again going back to sucking and circling.

Your moans became higher and breathier each time his tongue circled your clit, it drove him absolutely crazy.

He was...spelling something? You could feel it as he kept making the same trails around your cunt. 

K,

U,

R,

O,

O. 

Kuroo. 

“Mmph, Kuroo, more please…” You moaned tugging at his hair. He slid his thumb up your thigh, rubbing your clit as he pushed his tongue deeper in you, prodding your sweet spot.

The sudden action made you cry out in pleasure, tugging at his hair. He moaned from under you at the sudden mix of pain and pleasure on his scalp.

Kuroo stuck his tongue in and out of you, continuing to rub your clit with his thumb. You felt a tingling sensation grow low in your stomach, making your grip tighten on Kuroo’s hair and while your other frantically grabbed at his sheets, the foreign feeling traveling through your entire being. 

You moaned his name, wanting to ask him what the sensation was, but your mind only focused on him, making barely anything come out other than moans and his name. 

His fingers sped up as his tongue explored your walls. The sensation made you tighten, sending chills through your core as the pressure became too much to process alone.

Your legs twitched as your orgasm rocked through you, your eyes rolling back, gripping his hair tightly.

All that you could think of in that moment was Kuroo. KurooKurooKurooKuroo. It was a repeating mantra in your mind.

Your walls tightened around Kuroo’s tongue, a moan squeaking from your throat. Your grip tightened as you came, covering his tongue. You came from your high slowly, allowing you to let out a satisfied sigh. 

You smiled peacefully as he hungrily lapped at your clit, making sure not to let a single drop of your cum slip from his tongue. 

As he pulled out his fingers and lifted up from your body, you relaxed, your legs falling and your hand bringing itself to rest upon your stomach. 

He came up and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, making sure you could taste yourself on his tongue. You tried pushing him away, not liking the taste of yourself, but he slapped your thigh, taking your hands and holding both of them above your head. 

You whimpered squirming, uncomfortable with him holding you down. You shook your head in the kiss, trying to get away, but he only took this as an invitation to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

You moaned into the kiss, feeling your body temperature rise as he rocked against you, grinding against your thigh. The foreign feeling felt weird, but knowing you were giving him pleasure did cloud your mind with a hazy fog. 

He parted ways from the kiss and looked down on you. 

You looked so fucked out, and the real fun hadn’t even started yet. He wondered how you would be able to take him all the way, the thought of you not being able to handle all of him snuck its way  into his mind and making him groan. 

You would look so cute crying that it was all too big, how it wouldn’t fit. The money he’d pay to see that, he’d bow down and pray to any god to see that image and keep it in his mind forever. 

He leaned up and loomed over you, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. His eyes were dark with lust. It struck a tinge of fear in you. 

He unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out, and spread your legs once more.

Leaning down, he whispered in your ear. "Do you think you're worthy enough for my cock princess?" 

"Huh!?" 

"Awe, what did you think was gonna happen sweetheart? You thought it'd be that easy to make up for your sins—"

"But you said—" you felt tears prick your eyes. You didn't think you were ready for such a big step before marriage. You two weren't even dating!

"But you said—" He mocked in a whiny voice. "I know what I said, and now I'm saying," he pulled you by the cross on your necklace. 

"That I'm gonna fuck you until you’re too fucked out to even think about anything else. I'll turn you into such a pretty whore that you'll feel dirty even thinking about stepping foot in that church. Do you understand slut?"

Whore? Slut? Where was this coming from? He’d been so nice to you. You wouldn’t think he’d call you such degrading names. It was like a switch had been flipped inside him. 

You looked down at his size, causing you to whimper in fear for your small body. 

Kuroo squeezed your cheeks in one hand roughly, making you whine, your eyes watering. “Use your words, you dumb bitch. Do you or do you not understand what I’m saying?” He repeated. 

You nodded. “I-I understa-stand.” You hiccuped, hugging your arms.

You we’re borderline sobbing at this point. This wasn’t the smooth and sweet guy who chatted you up in the convenience store. This wasn’t the sweet christian boy your parents knew. This man was Lucifer himself.

And now, your new lord and saviour. 

You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. You should have never given him the benefit of the doubt. Everyone was right about him. He was just a mean playboy jerk who treated women like shi-

“Awe don’t cry sweetheart. You were doing so good just a minute ago.” His sweet and comforting tone snapped you from your thoughts, and you felt your mind become just a bit less panicked about the whole situation. “Although, you do look awfully pretty when you cry… hm… How bout this; I’ll just make you feel so good to where your instant reaction is to cry. That way I get to see that cute little tear-stained face, and you get to have my expert cock. How does that sound, princess?” 

You nodded, feeling like if you opened your mouth only sobs would come out. 

“What did I say about your words?” He quickly chastised. 

“S-Sorry. Yes sir I-I’d like that…” 

“That's a good girl,” The praise made your chest bubble with joy. You were happy that you could be seen as good in his eyes after all the disgusting things he had just called you. 

“Now here’s the worst part.” 

And that was all the warning you got before he rammed his cock into you. It was the worst pain that you had ever felt. The agonizing stretch, the unfamiliar feeling of being so full, it all was too painful to bear. So you did exactly what he planned and cried. 

He thought of going slow, he really did, but then he wouldn’t be able to see you and those absolutely gorgeous tear streaks. 

“Kuroo, it hurts! It’s too much! Take it out please!” You sobbed out. 

He laughed at you. “Aww poor baby, is it too much?” 

“Good.” He said with another slam of his hips. “You seem—fuck— to forget what we’re—oh god your so fucking tight—doing this for. You were acting like a bitch in church. In the house of your—shit—precious lord.” He said the last point in a mocking tone. “And now you're just paying for your sins to your new god.” He breathed out while continuing to thrust into you at a brutal pace. 

You could only cry harder as he fucked you with such vigor. The stretch was so painful and with every rough thrust he hit your cervix dead on. It was absolute torture. 

So you 're confused as to why the pain slowly subsided and turned to pleasure. Were you… enjoying this? No. There was no way. You didn’t even get a real say in what was happening. So why we’re tiny gasps coming out faster than you could stop them? And why did your hips start to move down to match his thrusts. 

“How do you thi-think your parents would react to your sinful actions right now? Huh, you dumb slut? Bet they’d be so disappointed to see that their precious little girl is nothing but a pretty little sinner huh? Say it! Fuck- Say you’re a sinner, and make sure the neighbors can hear you say it.” 

“B-but your mom..!” 

“You actually believed that?” He laughed. His laughing consisted of grunts and groans, making his laughing time out. “You’re such a fucking dumbass, you know that? I wouldn’t be touching your disgusting ass if my mother was home.” He growled, making more tears stream down your face. 

You whined, covering your face because of the absurd amount of embarrassment you felt. 

“Oh no no no, don’t cover your beautiful face now!” He grunted, taking both of your wrists and holding them above your head. 

With only the bottom half of his cock fucking into you, his thrusts were long and deep, making sure you felt it in your stomach. Your eyes rolled back with each agonizingly painful and deep thrust, your nails ripping off your skins from balling your fists. 

“Oh fuckkkk you're so tight for me.” Kuroo groaned. ”How’s such a slut like you got such a tight pussy?” 

It was obvious that the question was rhetorical as he started to slow his thrusts but put more force behind them, bruising your cervix. All you could let out were little “ah ah ah ahhhhhhs”. 

He slowly stopped, looking down at your trembling body. He let out a breathy groan, shaking his head and biting his lip. 

He let go of one of your wrists and grabbed hold of your hand, bringing it down to your stomach. 

“Princess, do you feel that?” He asked, rubbing your hand over a bump on your stomach. You looked down with him, seeing a slight bump stand with attention below your belly button, making your eyes widen and your breath quicken. 

“Ka-ka-Kuroo! What is that?!” You frantically questioned. 

He looked up at you with the most agrivated, most dumb founded look on his face. “What do you mean, ‘what’s that’?! That’s me, dollface.” He spat, making you jump. “Y-you..?” 

He groaned, slamming into you again, causing you to scream out again. “Ya’ see that moving in your stomach? That’s me, fucking deep into your tight tight pussy.” He growled. You look down again, seeing the bulge in your stomach move with each sharp thrust Kuroo sent through you. 

It made your head feel fuzzy. 

Your body started adjusting to his size, finally. You lifted your legs to cling onto the side of his waist, but they quickly fell spread for him. Your arms also stopped struggling, relaxing under his grip. Your eyes slowly rolled to the back of your head. With each animalistic thrust of his hips you could feel the bed shake. You could barely hear the frame hit the wall over the sound of your high whines and moans and his low groans filling your ear. But you could still faintly hear it, reminding of how rough he was getting. 

“Alright princess now open your mouth and stick your tongue out.” He commanded from over you. 

You opened your mouth and leaned your head back being sure to lol your tongue out.

You felt a cold liquid settle near the tip of your tongue, it was Kuroo’s spit. He’d let it fall like a fountain. Licking his lips when he’d finished. 

“Now swallow like a good girl.”

You closed your mouth and gulped. Letting the spit slide down your tongue. It should have grossed you out, but instead it made your eyes roll back. 

“Aww, look at you, all pretty and fucked out.” he shrugged, thrusting upwards into you, hitting a spot that made you scream out in ecstasy. 

“Kuroo, right there! Fuck, Kuroo yes right there!!” You moaned, arching your back and throwing your head back. 

That was the first time you cursed. Ever. 

“Such a dirty vocabulary you’re discovering! I’m such a good influence on you, your parents would be so proud.” He sarcastically exclaimed in a low and gravelly voice. 

Your parents. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you completely forgot all about them, and the time limit they'd set for you. You were sure you’d past it, it was fairly dark outside. 

You whined, feeling more tears of disappointment roll down the side of your face. “Do-don’t talk about them right now…Ah-I’m gonna-Kuroo fuck p-please!”

He only thrusted harder faster. “Awe baby, do you think you're the one in control? That’s so cute.” He pulled you by your necklace for the second time that night. “You’re atoning for your sins, and I’m using your body for my own pleasure. So you’re gonna sit back, and make sure the only thing that comes out of that pretty. Little. Mouth,” He punctuated each word with a harsh thrust. “Are those pretty. Little. Moans. You got that princess?” 

“Y-yes sir. I’m so sorry sir.” 

“Awe look at my baby! Using her words like a good girl!” He deeply cooed. 

You bit your lip, holding back the moan you desperately wanted to let out, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of your voice. He noticed and started to pound faster. You couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck! Kuroo! Ple-ase! Fuck you’re so good. Sosososo good. Pleeeeease!” 

“Listen to you! You sound downright pathetic!” He laughed at you. It felt humiliating, but you felt yourself getting wetter from the whole situation. The intensity, the humiliation, Kuroo’s groans, they all were filling up your senses, and you could feel yourself nearing your climax. 

“Look at you, you’re getting tighter. How much of a- fuuuuck how is it possible that your tighter- slut are you? You're really getting off to me calling you a slut? You like that? Huh? Go on, answer me whore.”  

“Yes! Yes Kuroo! I’m your whore! Fuuuuuckkkk!” Your moans were high and breathy. 

He pulled you by your necklace one again and snatched it clean off of you. 

You gasped, snapping out of your lustful trance. “Kuroo!!! My dad gave me that!!” You cried. 

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m your god now, you don’t need a stupid cross, I’ll let everyone know you’re mine.” He huffed, dangling it in front of you, before throwing it out his window. 

The window. The window! 

 “K-Kuroo, how long has that be-been open?” You asked. 

He groaned, slowing down his thrust. “The window? It’s been open since this morning.” He shrugged, fucking into you sloppier and sloppier. 

You felt embarrassed, heat rushing over your being as you held onto Kuroo to hide your face. “O-oh…” you moaned, scrunching your eyebrows together in embarrassment. 

“What’s wrong baby? Are you embarrassed? Are you embarrassed that my whole neighborhood can hear how bitchy, and pathetic you sound? Fuck- Good, fucking cry about it like the stupid bitch you are.” 

Each insult brought you closer to that edge. You forgot all about your previous embarrassment and basked in the bliss of Kuroo’s rough thrusts. 

“Holy shit- Did you get tighter from me reminding you of how much of a—shiiiiiitttt—of a fucking slut you are?” His voice sounded so breathy. You could feel him twitching inside of you. 

And then the dam broke. You could feel your orgasm sparking through you like electricity. 

“Kuroo! Kuroo! Im cumm- Im cumming! Oh Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck! You're so good!”

He revelled in the profanities spilling from your mouth, knowing that before this you probably would have never thought about saying such vile things. 

“Oh thats right baby who’s making you cum on his cock like a dumb bitch in heat? Who’s your god? C’mon, say it, princess.” 

“You! Shit! You're my god! Oh please- It’s too much! It's- It’s too much!” 

He laughed at you. “How many fucking—Fuck baby you feel so good—How many times do I have to tell you this isn’t- Shit- This isn’t for you.” The last part came out as a dark growl. 

“Y-Yes sir! I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah that's a good girl, oh you're such a good slut for me. Shutting up and just taking it. Yeahhh that's a good fucking whore. You want your god to cum inside you? Breed you and fill you up so nice? That what you want princess?” 

Your eyes widened. Nononono he couldn’t! He had to pull out! 

“N-No...Please...” Your voice sounded so weak and tiny. 

“Oh no baby, that was rhetorical. You're gonna sit back and let me breed this little pussy like a good girl who stays in her place, because surely- fuck- you remember your place and wouldn’t talk back, now would you?”

You knew it was useless to deny him. You don’t even know why you tried. 

After a few more thrust there was a particularly hard one. The force of fit knocked you back a bit, but he pulled you back by your thighs so he would stay fully buried inside of you. 

Suddenly you felt nothing but warmth filling you. He was cumming inside you. You could feel him shooting spurt after spurt. You had never felt so full, his thick cock splitting you accompanied by his come pushed you to another orgasm. Your legs shot up and you let out a loud whiny moan. 

“Oh god! Oh fuck! You feel so good filling me up Kuroo- Fuck!” 

“Aww you came again from me cumming in you? What happened to you not wanting it?” He teased. You couldn’t respond, you still hadn’t come down from your high. 

_________

You woke up in an unfamiliar location, dark red walls and black sheets were unlike your pastel blue walls and baby pink sheets. You panicked, until memories of your earlier actions came back to you. You weren't completely calm though, you were sure you definitely passed your curfew and Kuroo was nowhere to be found. 

“Kuroo! I need to get home like— now!” 

He entered the room and laughed. “Oh calm down you big baby, I called your folks and said you’d passed out cause you were so tired. Took some convincing, but they’re fine with you spending the night here.”

You sighed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “Oh, thank god.” 

“Speaking of,” He came closer to you. “You down for round two?” 

You felt warmth flood your face and threw a pillow at him. “You pervert!” 

“How am I the pervert when you're the one naked in my bed?” 

He was right, you did feel a cold breeze brush against your cold body as you pulled the covers up. 

“Well then where are my clothes?” 

He winced, itching the back of his neck. “Ya’ see...your skirt is still ripped, but I put your underwear and skirt in the wash. You could wear something of mine though!"

#haikyuu!! #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyu x reader smut #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo tetsuro smut #x reader smut #tw.noncon #tw.cnc #tw.spit #tw.religious imagery #tw.dumbification #tw.degradation

[wisewidow]

Hello, Your Parents Want Me To Have Your Babies

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

SUMMARY: Melina, my workplace’s neighbour, wants to set me up with her daughter.

I'd only ever hear about Natasha every couple of weeks, when her adoptive father, the mechanic that owned the garage workshop beside my father's cafe slash bar, met up with my uncle for beers one day last year. Ever since then, our families have been loosely intertwined, friendly but not too close. Alexei fixed my mom's wrecked car for a cheap price, in return I let his youngest daughter Yelena have free coffees whenever she pops over.

From what my father told me, Alexei's entire family, including his wife, were all involved in the family business of repairing cars, except for his eldest daughter: Natasha, who turned out to be an FBI agent living in Quantico. Dad says they're proud of her but they miss her.

"(Y/N)," my brother calls from the kitchen. I put down my phone and find him balancing three plates of sandwiches and a salad in his spindly arms.

He opens his mouth to explain the orders, but I cut him off.

"Alexei," I say, pointing to the bacon and egg sandwich. "A salad for Melina. The tuna and tomato roll is Yelena's. Did they want drinks?"

Peter nods. "Four coffees and a large bottle of water, they already have them."

I ruffle his hair to thank him and grab the plates, balancing the third on my forearm until I can place it on a tray. I carry it outside, years of waitressing practice keeping it balanced, and head towards the garage.

"Melina?" I call. Moments later the raven haired woman slips out of the office and smiles. She yells something in Russian that causes Yelena to slide out from under a silver BMW, covered in black grease. Alexei appears moments later wielding a spanner.

They hound me for their orders, gratefully patting my shoulder and carrying their food away to their separate stations. Yelena disappears into the shadows with her sandwich, and her father to his desk, but Melina simply brightens and says, "(Y/N), have you heard? Natalia is visiting."

"Yes!" Alexei yells around a mouthful of bread. "Family, reunion! Grandbabies!"

Melina hisses something in their mother tongue. I laugh, and then ask if Natasha was bringing her kids, though I wasn't aware she had any.

"He means nothing of it, Natalia is focused on work at the moment. Too focused, I think. No babies. No partner."

"Tell her about her penthouse!" Alexei encourages.

Melina flaps a hand at him in irritation. "Yes, well, she has broken up with Bruce, the shy scientist from work. And then Sharon, charming field operative, also from work. And now she refuses to date. Because of work."

I chuckle nervously. "Where are you going with this?"

Melina smiles innocently. "Nowhere. What happened to your last girlfriend, again? Your father mentioned something about . . ."  The look in her eyes is enough to egg me on, though the subject is one I rarely speak of these days.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I say, "Carol left to travel Europe."

"Shame," she nods sympathetically. "You don't seem bothered. Are you not looking for a relationship?"

"Not actively, but I'm sure another troublemaker will find me. I don't have a good track record of steady relationships," I admit.

"Neither does Natalia!" Alexei shouts.

"Oh!" I say. "Does she want Carol's number? Or my friend Harley, she's not looking for commitment."

Yelena snickers. Alexei frowns. Melina chuckles. "No, no, Natalia needs someone she doesn't work with, and you need someone serious, and we need grandbabies before we die, since Yelena neglects it."

I flush a bright red. "Grandb— I'm— okay, first of all, neither of us have the equipment for that—"

"Neither did Dad," Yelena pipes up, referring to the fact that she and her sister were adopted.

"Hey!"

"(Y/N)!" Peter calls, rounding the corner. "Ned's coming over to pick me up, we need to finish our physics project. Uncle Ben should be here soon, can you manage the bar until he gets here?"

I jump onto the excuse and yell back affirmation, say a quick goodbye to Melina before speed-walking back to the cafe.

Peter leaves with Ned soon after, and Ben arrives at around the same time. I move to the kitchens while he takes over serving our regulars, as he's friendlier with them than me.

I work on making more sandwiches and tapas meals until four, when my shift ends. I kiss Uncle Ben on the cheek and head home.

The smell of paprikash greets me as I unlock the door to my apartment, which I guess means that my roommate is home. I call out a hello to her and head to the shower.

I groan happily as the hot water rains down on my front. I close my eyes and lean my head back, thinking over how strange the day had been, and lose myself in a trance of relaxation.

"(Y/N/N)!" Wanda barges in. I jump and almost slip grabbing the shower curtain to cover my body as I peek out at her.

"I'm naked," I hiss.

She ignores me and holds up two clothes hangers. "Pantsuit or dress?"

I push my wet hair out of my face. "Uh, are you bar-hopping with Vision or going to a family dinner?"

"Get together with some friends," she explains. "Vis, Sam, Steve and some guy named Bucky who I'm informed we're supposed to be pretending Steve isn't in love with, do you know him?"

"Nope."

"Okay, well, he's bringing some friends, so I'm bringing you. Don't make that face, you know almost everyone."

"I don't feel like getting drunk," I complain.

"Good! You can be the designated driver. Pantsuit or dress?"

Grumbling, I tell her, "Dress."

"Okay, thanks, you wear the pantsuit, be ready by seven. May the Force be with you!"

She ducks as I throw my shampoo bottle at her. We bicker and mock and tease as I pat myself dry and she changes into the scarlet dress.  While she braids her hair, I carefully slip into the navy and white striped pantsuit, and we move into her bedroom to make use of her vanity, since the sun's lowering position in the sky shone straight into the window while my room would be encased in dimness by now. I sit in the chair and she leans over me, brushing her eyelashes with delicate mascara.  We fall into our normal going-out-getting-ready rhythm, periodically handing each other different brushes, comparing lipstick shades, and commenting on our days. She tells me about her brother's latest shenanigans and I make the grave mistake of commenting on Melina's attempted set-up earlier today, much to Wanda's entertainment. The two had never met but they both shared the pure ecstasy that came with matchmaking involving me.

"Do you think she's pretty?" Wanda wonders.

"I've seen photos," I shrug. "She's a redhead. Yelena says she changes hairstyles often."

"That doesn't answer my question! Pretty redhead or no?"

"They were baby photos, Wanda! I didn't have an opinion on her looks past the Wonder Woman pajamas."

She hums, and turns to draw a small heart under my left eye with her gel liner pen. "It would be nice if you wound up with her, but if you do fall madly in love with her beautiful red locks and decide to move to Washington to marry her and have her babies, I will murder you. You pay your rent on time and you're fun and please, please do not make me move back in with my brother."

"Why does everyone keep bringing up babies?" I yell.

An hour later we're pulling up to the bar in the back of  a cab arguing about getting a cat. The debate of whose bathroom would host the litter tray is interrupted by Wanda spotting Vision through the window and quickly smacking my arm and hissing at me to hurry up and pay so she can sneak in and scare him. Unfortunately, I can't locate my purse inside my bag.

"(Y/N), (Y/N), go, go, go . . ."

"Wanda, Wanda, going, going, going . . . Aha!" I pay the driver and find myself being ushered inside before I can put my purse back in my bag.

Sam, a friend of Wanda's from college, ends up foiling her evil master plan by pointing her out as soon as she walks in the door. Vision, being a good sport, pretends to be startled when she yells "BOO!" in his ear. As she cackles manically before sliding into the chair beside him, I notice the only free space is by the pretty blonde woman beside a man with brown hair pulled into a bun.

"Oh, look who I dragged out with me!" Wanda exclaims, taking a sip of Vision's drink and making a grand gesture with her hands. "(Y/N)!"

I'm greeted with a chorus of hello's. I bow and grin as I sit by the woman and offer a polite smile. Steve leans over points to the brunet man. "This is Bucky, we were close as friends. As kids. We were close as friends, when we were kids."

Sam snorts into his beer.

Steve clears his throat awkwardly. "And this is his partner from work, Nat."

I get a closer inspection and my eyes widen in shock. "Natalia?"

"Her name is Natasha." Steve corrects.

"I thought her name was Natalie?" Vision frowns.

"She goes by Nat, who cares?" Sam shrugs.

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova?" Wanda yelps. "(Y/N)! You didn't tell me this was the Natalia!"

"The what? I— Do I know you two?" Natasha asks, bewildered.

"Not me!" Wanda says, and then makes a motion for zipping her lips shut.

Everyone turns to me. I chuckle nervously. "I should probably explain. Hi, I'm (Y/N), your parents want me to have your babies."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fluff

[heyyyharry]

Deep End - Chapter 6: Andersen’s Fairy Tales

…in which Harry teaches Ezi how to read.

Word count: 4k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: please please let me know what you think. I can't write without motivation 😭

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When Harry finally decided to answer his mother’s call, he had prepared himself for some verbal ass-whooping. He was twenty-four years old, a celebrity and a millionaire, yet still getting scolded by his mother on a daily basis. Life was good.

“Is your date okay?” The first thing his mother said to him was this. At first, Harry thought he’d misheard it. But then she repeated the question in a more urgent and concerning tone. “Harry, is Ezili okay?”

His mother had never remembered the name of any girl he’d brought home. His mother always had a lot to say about the way those girls had dressed, talked, and carried themselves. Had Ezi charmed his mother with her siren magic?

Harry shuddered at the thought. “Y-Yeah...why?”

“Dawson told me you and Bax got into a fight at the manor.”

Harry smacked his forehead. Fucking Dawson. “How did Dawson know?”

“He found Bax lying on the floor.”

Although Harry hated to recall that night because he couldn’t imagine how scared Ezi must have been, it was funny to think about how pathetic Bax must have looked when Dawson had found him. The mental image made Harry laugh. “See?” he told his mother. “It wasn’t a fight if it was one-sided. I beat him up.”

His mother exhaled sharply. Harry could imagine her with her eyes closed, shaking her head. “The only reason I will let you get away with fighting your cousin in my house is because I know what he was trying to do with Ezili. So I called to ask if she was okay.”

“She’s okay. Don’t worry. I think she also scared him.”

“She’s a woman. Any strong woman would’ve been terrified in that situation,” said Harry’s mum. “I feel bad for having let that happen. I shouldn’t have invited him.”

“It’s not your fault, Mum. He’s always been scum.”

There was a pause, and Harry knew exactly what his mother was going to say. “Bax’s parents have always hated us. They envy your father. I think they’re trying to sabotage our wine business. Maybe if you’d change your mind--”

“Mum, we’ve talked about this,” Harry sighed. “I love my career. I can’t...I’m not a businessman like Dad. Isn’t Dawson doing a good job managing our family business already?”

“He is. But I know your father would’ve wanted it to be you.” When Harry stayed quiet, his mother knew it was a sign that this topic shouldn’t be continued, so she switched to another. “You should invite Ezili to lunch at the manor.”

“Mum, that wouldn’t be necessary.”

“Nonsense! Her first time in our house and she got absolutely traumatised. I’ll make up for it. I’ll send you an invitation in the afternoon.”

“Mum, there’s no need for an in--”

But his Mum already hung up on him.

Sighing, Harry sunk back into his chair. A staff member knocked on the door and informed him that he would have to return to the set in fifteen minutes. He told them he got it and intended to call his mum again and try to talk her out of the lunch thing with Ezi. That was when he got another call.

“Don’t tell me someone’s injured. It’s only been an hour.”

“Worse!” Niall screamed. “Dawson kidnapped the girl!”

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Ezili didn’t know if the bookstore was small or Harry’s house was just too big, but she liked the cosiness of it in contrast to what she’d always been used to. There were bookshelves climbing all the way up to the ceiling. The walls were covered with hundreds of books of all sizes, and there were dozens of piles on the floor in the corners as well. But seeing that most of the furniture was covered in dust, Ezili guessed they didn’t often have visitors.

She wondered why nobody wanted to come into this fascinating place. She loved books even though she couldn’t read or write. She’d found a few books in her room and some of them had pictures, but she could only guess what the stories were about. So she wanted to read, but it would be something her mother would never approve of. If she learned to read, she’d become a laughing stock for her kind for sure.

Entering the bookstore, Ezili and Dawson were greeted by an old lady with crazy chestnut hair that looked like she was wearing a fluffy dog on her head. Her eyes were huge behind those thick round glasses that gave her a psychotic kind of look that absolutely terrified Ezili.

“Hello, love birds,” she said with an ear-to-ear grin. Ezili could not take her eyes off the shiny wires attached to this lady’s teeth. They sparkled every time she opened her mouth. This woman must be rich if she wore silver on her teeth.

“Oh, we’re not birds,” Ezili said as she pulled Chilli tighter to her chest.

The crazy lady hugged her stomach and burst out laughing. “She’s a funny girl,” she told Dawson, pointing to Ezili, then her face turned serious. “But no cats allowed.”

“She’s with me. Her name is Chilli and she’s very nice--”

“She can stay here while you pick your books.” Before Ezili could protest, the lady took the black cat and put it on the counter. “So what are you looking for?”

“Thank you. We’ll just have a look around,” Dawson said with a tight smile and pulled Ezili with him. They turned into one of the aisles and heard the lady telling them she’d be here if they needed help. What kind of help would you need in a bookstore? It wasn’t like books would attack you.

“The Book of Wisdom,” Dawson said as he took out one colourful book from a higher shelf. Ezili peered over his arm as he scrutinised the front cover. He smelled like coconut and summer, which reminded her of those tropical islands she’d visited with her mother. And the fact that he was a lot taller than her made her want to bury her face into his chest to get soaked in that homely smell. But then she remembered what Harry had taught her about consent. Realising her chest was touching his arm, she stepped back and felt him relax a bit more. She hoped he didn’t think she was sexually hairdressing him. She had no idea why they called it hairdressing, and she kept forgetting to ask Harry.

“Hey, why do they call it hairdre--”

“Lesson 1: Be polite.”

Ezili jumped and hid behind Dawson’s back, her heart pounding violently. “Did the book just..talk?”

“Yeah, it’s a talking book for children,” Dawson chuckled. “I like your sense of humour.”

He flipped to a new page and the book talked again, “Remember, kids, if you accidentally raise your voice with someone, always apologise to them. It’s not nice to yell at other people.”

Ezili couldn’t decide if she was in awe or creeped out by the talking book. Maybe a little bit of both. But then her eyes zeroed in on a picture of a beautiful siren on one of the covers. She passed Dawson to try and was trying to reach for the book when his hand landed on her shoulder, and she looked up to see him grab the book without effort and hand it to her with a smile.

“You like this? It’s the new edition of Andersen’s Fairy Tale.”

“The Little Mermaid!”

“Yes.” Dawson’s eyes squinted behind his glasses. “You’ve never read Andersen’s Fairy Tales?”

“I have,” Ezili lied, hugging the book to her chest. “I want this book.”

“Great. I’ll buy it for you. As a gift.”

Harry had told Ezili that humans couldn’t just take the things they found because they would get arrested, and apparently, they couldn’t fight and kill each other for things either. It didn’t sound fair and was kind of stupid. Why were humans so dependent on these stupid papers they called money? Ezili couldn’t understand how their inferior brains worked sometimes.

“Hey, look,” Dawson said, holding up his phone that was buzzing in his hand. “Harry’s calling.”

Ezili couldn’t care less about Harry now. She let Dawson speak to him while she flipped through the book to look at pictures. But...why was there a picture of the prince and another girl? Didn’t he marry Ariel? She tried to look for the ones that revealed the new ending, which was apparently different from what she’d seen on the telly, but the rest of the chapter was just text and no pictures. She hated this. She wished she could read.

“Yeah, she’s here with me. The bookstore is just a few blocks near your house…” Dawson finished the call with Harry and turned back to Ezili. “He’s coming to pick you up.”

She found it strange that Harry would speak about Dawson with such hatred, like the way Koa would speak about Ezili, while Dawson had always been so nice about Harry. She couldn’t recall him saying anything bad about Harry when in fact, she could go on and on for days about Harry’s bad qualities. And she’d only known him for a week!

“Why doesn’t Harry like you?”

The question seemed to have caught Dawson by surprise, but he was quick to put on a smile.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I’m helping his mum run the business his father left for him. But he was the one who didn’t want it. He wanted to become a singer.”

“Harry’s mother doesn’t want him to be a singer?”

“No.”

Ezili closed the book and gave an understanding nod. “My mother never lets me do things I like, either. She never thinks I’m good enough because I’m not like her.”

“I’m sure your mother loves you,” Dawson said. Ezili liked the twinkle in his eyes and tenderness in his voice when he reassured her. Maybe he had a special gift that only sirens had. The gift to charm anybody they wanted. “Every mother has their own burdens and loves us in a different way.”

“But...if they love us, should they want us to be happy?”

Ezili didn’t know where that had come from. For the last twenty years of her life, she had never once thought of this. Why now? Why now that she decided that she could have been happier if her mother hadn’t been the way she was? But sirens were all supposed to be the way her mother was. Cold and dangerous like the ocean itself. So did it mean...did it mean her mother and sister were right? That she was too weak and emotional to become Queen?

“Ezi!”

The sound of her name pulled her out of her own head. She snapped her head up to find Harry padding toward her. He looked just like that night when he’d scolded her for biting his cousin. She hated this Harry.

“Let’s go home,” he told her coldly.

Before she could reply, he took her wrist and pulled her with him. The book fell to her feet and she was too appalled to even pick it up. She was about to remind Harry that Dawson was standing right there, but then she realised Harry had intentionally ignored his cousin.

“Ezili, your book!”

Harry and Ezi stopped before they got into the car parked out front. Dawson handed her the book and beamed. “I already paid for it.”

“Thank you.”

“Very nice. Get in, Ezi.”

Dawson seemed slightly annoyed by Harry’s attitude, but he didn’t act on it. Instead, he gave Ezili another gentle smile and told her he’d see her another time. Then, he went back inside the bookstore.

Ezili wished she could have stayed with him.

“Rescue mission accomplished!” said an energetic voice as Ezili got into the back of the car. A stranger she had never seen before peered around the passenger seat and smiled at her before he started speaking in a funny accent, “You’re welcome, by the way. The name’s Niall.”

Chilli was sitting on Niall’s lap, licking her own paw, which showed that she was comfortable around Niall, and Niall wasn’t an enemy. To human Ezili, of course. All humans were enemies to sirens.

“I’m Ezili,” Ezili said, then, she recognised the funny accent. “You’re Niall...Horan?”

“You know me?”

Ezili could feel her grin stretch from ear to ear. “I saw you on TikTok! You’re so funny.”

“Look, H, a fan!” Niall exclaimed as he shook Harry’s shoulder, but Harry didn’t react as he manoeuvred the car back onto the road. “I like her already.” Niall laughed. “I’m Harry’s best friend. Are you following my TikTok?”

“Yeah. I’ve watched every single one.”

“Good, good, good,” Niall said, nodding slowly. He turned to the front and back to Ezili immediately. “Also, I’m sorry about what happened to you. The accident must have been awful.”

“What?”

“Niall,” Harry growled. “Seatbelt.”

Niall flinched. “Sorry.”

Frowning, Ezili hugged her new book and sunk into her seat. She hated this Harry. He reminded her of a whale with a toothache, and even with that image in mind, she still couldn’t laugh. That was how angry she was with him. Yes, she was angry with him being angry with her. And for pulling her out of that beautiful bookstore. For making her drop her book. For holding her hostage like a prisoner. For being rude to Dawson. She hated him. She hated Harry Styles.

So when they’d arrived home and he told her to go inside and hang with Niall, she had to chase after him and let him know how much she hated him.

“Harry Styles!” She called when they reached the white stairs leading to the enormous courtyard where he’d parked his car. “Why are you upset? You have no right to be mad at me after you lied to me.”

Harry stopped halfway down the stairs; it seemed like Ezili’s words had finally hit him. He slowly spun around with a stunned expression as if she’d accused him of manslaughtering. “I didn’t lie to you,” he said, his jaw tight. “I told you to stay in your room. You were grounded.”

“You didn’t tell me that you’d leave me with your assistant and Niall!”

“But I didn’t lie to you.”

“Telling half-truths is telling lies.”

Harry held Ezili’s gaze for a long moment before he started ascending the stairs. She stiffened as he stopped right in front of her, leaned in, and stared.

“Oh, so you’re so honest, aren’t you?” he asked in a mocking tone. “You’ve never lied to me?”

“Never,” she said confidently.

Well, that was also a lie. But since when had Ezili felt bad for lying? She’d eaten men like him. Why did his presence now make her nervous?

She hated that the more she stayed human the more human she became. That thought terrified her even more than the possibility of getting caught and killed in this foreign land.

“I’ve never lied in my entire life,” she added, making Harry's eyes grow wide.

He said nothing, and when he turned to leave, she hurriedly followed him down the stairs. “Speechless by my honesty?” she asked.

“Speechless by the lies that come out of your mouth,” he said. “Is your name even Ezi?”

“No, it’s Ezili.”

Harry let out a scoff but he didn’t stop, so Ezili grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. Hard.

“Shit! How are you so strong?” he cried out, facing her again.

“Apologise.”

“What?”

Ezili folded her arms across her chest and sharpened her gaze. “Apologise right now.”

“For what?”

“For yelling at me.”

“And why should I apologise for yelling at you?”

Ezili bit her lip. The voice inside her head told her to push him down the stairs. She could just say it was an accident, and no one could prove that she’d done it. However, she needed him alive. Sucking in a breath, she said, “Because that’s what decent people do. A talking book told me that.”

“You mean those children's books you found in the bookstore,” Harry taunted, giving her a despiteful smirk.

She scowled at him even harder. “Apologise.”

“Fine,” he breathed. “I apologise for yelling at you. Now you apologise for stealing my cat.”

“I tried to save Chilli. You see, your assistant said something about the Master of the House being dead. I thought you were dead. But she was only talking about a show--”

“Yeah, famous Netflix show. It’s good. But that’s still no excuse for taking my cat.”

“Fine.” Ezili glared at him. “I’m sorry for stealing your cat.”

“And for getting into Dawson’s car.”

“And for getting into Dawson’s car.”

“And for leaving with him and liking him.”

“And for—What is your problem with Dawson?”

Instead of answering the question, Harry pulled out his phone, looked at it, and then told Ezili, “Go inside. We’ll continue this talk when I get back.”

He was just about to run when she pulled him back by his sleeve. He gave her a ‘what do you want?’ kind of look as she stammered, “When...when you get back…”

“Yeah?” He stressed out the word, an eyebrow arched impatiently.

“Can you teach me how to read?”

“What?”

“Teach me to read. Are you deaf?”

“You can’t read?”

When Ezili shook her head, Harry’s frown transformed into a smile. “That explains a lot.”

She smacked him on the arm and he gasped and leapt down two steps.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! Why are you so aggressive?” Harry winced and backed away from her. “We’ll talk about this later. Now go inside and film a TikTok with Niall or something. I’m late for a photoshoot.”

Ezili opened her mouth to ask him what time he’d be home, but Harry had already run back to his car.

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Harry got home at around 10 PM. He’d had a rough day. His manager had been furious because he had run out on a magazine photoshoot without saying a word to anyone. In his defence, he’d been in a rush, and couldn’t figure out an excuse to cover up for the fact that he’d almost let a mythical creature get loose. He shouldn’t have been so careless and left her with his assistant and Niall. That was his fault. Also, he could never think straight when he was angry. He thought about the look Ezili had given him when he’d pulled her out of the bookstore. The look Dawson had given him. Fucking Dawson. If it wasn’t for him, Harry wouldn’t have had to be mean to Ezi.

“Hey.”

“Jesus!” Harry shouted when the light switched on and he saw Ezili sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room. “Wha--Why are you on the floor? Get up.”

“This is Chilli’s favourite spot so I thought I might try to see how comfortable it is. Pretty uncomfortable, I must say.”

Harry rolled his eyes and offered Ezi a hand to help her get to her feet. “Why are you still awake?”

She pulled away from him and rushed over to the table to grab the book Dawson had given her. She shoved it at him. “You promised to teach me to read. This is a collection of fairy tales. Andersen’s Fairy Tales. I noticed that one of the details from The Little Mermaid story was different from the film, so I want to know how the story actually ends in the book.”

Harry sighed as he took the book and looked at the cover. When he glanced up, Ezi was giving him these big puppy dog’s eyes with her hands clasped together in front of her chest. “It’s late,” he said tiredly.

She shook her head. “You promised!”

“I can just tell you the ending.”

“No, I want to read!”

“Fine, fine.” He put his hands up, left palm out, the other holding the book. “I guess there’s still time to teach you the alphabet then we’ll call it a day.”

Harry could have sworn he had never seen anyone as excited about learning as Ezi was, which was quite amusing, he must admit. So they sat on the couch as he taught her the alphabet and how to put letters into words. She was a fast learner, so it didn’t take long for her to memorise everything.

“It’s been three hours and I still can’t read,” Ezili whined as she hit him with a pillow.

Shocked, Harry blinked at her. “That’s not how learning works. You need time.”

“You said my brain was more developed!”

“Yeah, but still!”

Scowling, Ezi kicked Harry’s feet. “You’re the worst teacher ever. I’ll never get to know how it ends.”

“Okay, Miss Drama Queen,” Harry scoffed. “How about I read you the story now, and when you can read on your own, you can practice by rereading it?”

Ezi thought for a moment, then the line between her brows eased, and she nodded once. “But you must teach me everyday until I can read.”

“Fine,” Harry breathed as he opened the book. His body stiffened when Ezi suddenly leaned on him like he was a pillow, her cheek against his arm, and he could feel every beat of her heart.

“Go on,” she urged him, giving him a nudge.

He cleared his throat and opened the book, trying to distract his naughty mind with the innocent words of a fairy tale.

Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell the Sea King and his subjects. We must not imagine that there is nothing at the bottom of the sea but bare yellow sand. No, indeed; the most singular flowers and plants grow there; the leaves and stems of which are so pliant, that the slightest agitation of the water causes them to stir as if they had life. Fishes, both large and small, glide between the branches, as birds fly among the trees here upon land. In the deepest spot of all, stands the castle of the Sea King. Its walls are built of coral, and the long, gothic windows are of the clearest amber. The roof is formed of shells, that open and close as the water flows over them. Their appearance is very beautiful, for in each lies a glittering pearl, which would be fit for the diadem of a queen...

By the time they’d finished one-third of the story, Ezi had already fallen asleep with her head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry wished he’d read this to her in bed so he wouldn’t have to carry her upstairs now. She was small and slender, but he’d had a bad day, so even the littlest inconvenience could bring down his mood. Cursing under his breath, he picked her up and carried her to the stairs as she curled against his chest like a little cat.

When her eyelids fluttered, he thought she was going to jolt awake, but then her brows knitted, and she murmured, “Mother, please...give me more time. I will bring you the heart…the heart...”

He chuckled and put her down on the bed.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles x mc #harry styles x oc #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #harry styles series

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Like a dream pt. 1|2 [Sirius Black x Reader] - Challenge

Title: Like a dream pt. 1 ➔ Like a dream pt. 2 - Here! Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader   Word count: 3.4k Published: 20 January 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: Important note at the end Summary: Sirius and you were supposed to be enemies, but your crush on him might not be as unrequited as you thought. Challenge: [x] [x] This is part of @sleep-i-ness​ writing challenge on tumblr. I used the below dialogue 

“Can I kiss you?” “I don’t know, can you?”

Bingo: [x] This is part of my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes​ on tumblr

Square filled: Enemies to lovers

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

You always disliked Sirius Black. Or at least that’s what you told everyone who dared to comment on your constant bickering and picking on one another. But you couldn’t deceive yourself. You caught yourself gazing at the boy from afar, hands getting clammy around him, air stuck in your lungs.

You felt your face heat up around him, making your crush on the boy dangerously obvious. You tried to conceal it with muggle makeup and useful charms you learnt from your friends and so far, it has been helping, but your nervous state couldn’t be fixed, even if you tried to count from one to ten, even if you tried to think of awful thoughts. The boy had effects on you that no one else had.

Your families having an amazing relationship didn’t help in keeping a distance either. So, when your mother announced the Blacks visit, you almost forgot to breathe for a mere second. You rushed up to your room, dressing up into your prettiest dress, putting on just a small amount of make-up, before taking care of the mess on top of your head that others called hair.

It barely took an hour or so before you heard your parents greeting the Blacks downstairs. You took a deep breath and wore the coldest expression you could possibly manage. You knew Sirius would have a couple of snarky comments spiced up with his usually cocky grin, one that always took your breath away, so you composed yourself and prepared for the worst.

Walking down the stairs felt even more difficult as your legs slightly wobbled. When you caught sight of him, even the air stuck in your lungs, your throat dried out. You wanted to scream into outer space, scolding yourself for being affected by someone who never really had a kind word to say to you. Although he never really offended you either. You just mutually got on each others’ nerves.

“Darling, finally, come on down,” your mother ushered you over to them as she saw you heading down the stairs.

You smiled sweetly as you greeted Walburga and Orion, before you turned to Regulus, but when your eyes met Sirius, words didn’t seem to want to leave your lips. He wore his usual cocky smile as he studied your face, seemingly unbothered about the lack of greeting.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked, snickering as his parents followed yours into the dining room with Regulus behind them.

“You wish, Black,” you scoffed, but deep down you wanted to run into a wall. You were not one to be silent, one without words, but Sirius’ presence often caused you a momentary brain damage.

“Actually, I don’t. It would get boring,” he shrugged casually. You tilted your head in confusion, brows furrowed.

“You can’t possibly tell me you wouldn’t be happy if I couldn’t talk,” you raised a brow curiously.

“So, I’d have to listen to my own voice at all times? I’d love it. For a short period of time, of course. But for any longer, please, even I’d go mental,” he pulled a face, making you giggle. It wasn’t a sound you often let yourself have when Sirius was around. You didn’t necessarily hate each other, but none of you really had a nice word to say to the other, which often led to a bickering session.

“And we certainly wouldn’t want that,” you added sarcastically with a cheeky grin across your face.

“Are you going to join us today?” Regulus arrived from the dining room, waving his hand to follow him.

You joined your families at the table, quickly diving into the food, trying to avoid any awkward conversation. As you looked up at Sirius, his cold expression and blank eyes reminded you of the rumours you heard about his relationship with his family. He was distant and almost robotic.

“Darling, how’s school been?” Walburga turned to you with a sweet, but very clearly phony expression.

“It’s been going well, thank you for asking. I’m certainly not going to be a potions master, but I’m doing rather well in all my other classes,” you replied with a genuine smile, feeling proud of your achievements.

“That’s wonderful, dear,” she smiled as she turned to your mother. “You have got a beautiful and very intelligent child on your hand, love. You must be very proud of her,” she added. Your mom quickly tapped her lips with a napkin, ready to answer.

“Indeed. She is making us very proud,” she replied as she turned to you and offered you a loving, happy smile. “But I’m sure you are just as proud. You have two amazing sons who I hear seem to do quite well in school and part of the quidditch team of their houses as well,” she added, the information you have shared with her finally becoming useful.

“Regulus is indeed doing very well. Top grades of his year and it seems he will soon be captain of the quidditch team,” she added with a proud smile, but then the conversation turned into an awkward silence as Walburga decided not to mention Sirius. As you looked at the boy, he was wearing the same cold expression, slightly more annoyed than before as he rolled his eyes.

You wanted to tell him to ignore his mother’s mean behaviour, but you didn’t have the right to. You didn’t know much about their relationship and you certainly didn’t have a friendship of any kind with Sirius.

Instead, you heaved a deep sigh, swallowed hard and concentrated back on your meal.

The dinner didn’t last long, soon you found yourself in the living room, sipping on a cup of tea, your parents having an utterly boring conversation with the Blacks.

“Mom, would you please excuse me?” you asked as you placed your cup and saucer on the table in front of you.

“Of course, darling, go ahead,” she smiled and continued her conversation with Walburga.

You stood up from your seat and looked over at Sirius who seemed even more miserable than you. It was clearly painted across his face that he didn’t want to be there, let alone listen to the conversation your parents were having.

“Mrs. Black, would you mind if I stole Sirius for a second?” you asked. The woman looked at her son, slight disappointment across her face, but then she nodded reluctantly.

“Not at all, sweetheart,” she shook her head. Sirius looked at you with a frown across his face as he stood and followed you out of the house, straight to the garden.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“You couldn’t look any more miserable sitting there,” you shrugged.

“Thanks,” he scoffed as he took a seat on a bench beside the wall. You sat down next to him, a slightly awkward silence distancing the two of you as you kept your eyes busy, looking around the carefully planted flowers your mother felt so proud of.

“You know, this is not the Black I’m used to,” you added as you grew tired of the silence.

“Why, what did you expect?” he tilted his head backwards, looking up at the darkness, stars lighting up the sky.

“I don’t really know. In school you are cocky, unpredictable and not to mention annoying at all times,” you scoffed as you remembered how many times you wanted to wrap your fingers around his neck and squeeze it, just a little. “But here you are like this sample boy. Quiet and well behaved, but most of all cold,” he grimaced at your words, which you weren’t sure how to take at first.

“My parents hate me, how else am I supposed to behave? I don’t plan to fuel the fire any more than it already is,” he replied with a serious expression.

“Well, I know my words don’t mean much, but if it’s worth even a bit, I prefer the Sirius I go to school with,” you shrugged casually, trying not to reveal your crush on him, but still trying to be honest. When Sirius started smiling, you couldn’t stop yourself from mirroring his expression.

“Huh, so you don’t hate me that much after all,” he snickered proudly, his usually cocky smirk painted across his face once again.

“I never hated you. I just can’t stand you,” you added as you turned away from the boy, trying to hide your blushing cheeks.

He leaned forward, attempting to catch a glimpse of your face, but you carefully looked anywhere except him. “Then why are you blushing?” he chuckled as your head shot up, looking straight into his grey eyes that seemed even darker under the moonlight. He must have understood your confusion. “Your ears are bright red,” he added with a cheeky wink.

You groaned, feeling annoyed both because of your own obvious behaviour and his impeccable sight. “I’m just feeling warm,” you tried to save the situation which earned you a sceptical look from Sirius before it quickly turned into a barking laughter.

“I’m sure that’s true. Especially because there are goosebumps all over your arm,” he chuckled as he bit into his lower lip, your eyes immediately focusing on his movement. You scolded yourself inside for your silly behaviour and folded your arms in front of your chest as you turned away from the boy, quietly sulking.

He took off his suit jacket and placed it on your back, his scent finding its way into your nostrils almost immediately. It was warm and soft, and it smelled like him. You looked at the boy with a questioningly raised brow, not knowing how to take it.

“What? I can’t possibly have a beautiful lady freezing to death beside me,” he shrugged nonchalantly with a mischievous smile playing in the corner of his mouth.

“Beautiful lady?” you asked, scepticism clear in your tone. “When in the last 5 minutes did I become a beautiful lady?” you snorted in disbelief, ignoring how un-ladylike it was.

“You have always been beautiful,” he added casually as if the words were more familiar to him than to you. You frowned at his unusual behaviour, complimenting each other was not something you often or ever did.

“Are you sick? Are you under some kind of a potion? Blink twice if you are,” you nagged him, causing a silent laughter to erupt from his lungs.

“I’m perfectly fine. You know, just because people don’t say something out loud, it doesn’t mean they don’t think it,” he said.

“Okay- thanks, I guess,” you tried to find the right words to say.

“Not a problem,” he smiled proudly.

Once again, an awkward silence fell on the pair of you, but this time you couldn’t possibly break it. His unusual behaviour made you feel wary and you weren’t sure what would be the best way to strike up a conversation.

“Did I make you feel awkward?” he asked, his eyes focused on the dark sky and the small little stars painted across it.

“I wouldn’t say you made me feel awkward, but I certainly didn’t expect any positive comment from you,” you shrugged casually, trying to play it cool. Your heart was pulsing loudly in your ears, your throat dried out, but you couldn’t have given even a hint of the effects he had on you.

“Hey, I’m not that bad,” he groaned.

“I’m not saying you are, but we are always bickering about some silly thing that I can’t even remember because it’s always so meaningless, so for you to say that I’m beautiful, it was certainly unexpected,” you explained.

“Well, I can’t possibly tell you how pretty you are in the middle of our little arguments.”

“Actually, you could,” you snickered, which made him chuckle as he watched your playful expression.

“Now that you mention it, if I used it before, you might have shut up quicker,” he snorted as he saw your face turn into an expression that clearly screamed how badly you wanted to hex him.

“You are going too far, Black,” you added.

“Isn’t that what we usually do?” he asked wriggling his brows, making you chuckle.

“What was that creepy move?” you asked, trying to silence your laughter.

“My signature move,” he winked. “Girls, love it.”

“Sure, if you want to scare them away,” you huffed, but you couldn’t remove the smile from your face.

“We could have done this sooner, you know,” he stated, making you feel confused.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Have a normal conversation without you getting mad at me?” he grinned.

“I wouldn’t get mad at you if you didn’t behave like a complete idiot,” you shrugged, your smile still hiding in the corner of your lips.

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “But then how else would I catch my crush’s attention?” he raised a questioning brow. For a second you thought you heard it wrong, for a second you thought you were hallucinating. His words seemed too unreal.

“You what?” you attempted to word your confusion.

“How else did you expect me to get your attention?” he chuckled playfully, his own words making him feel lighter.

“Why would you want to catch my attention?” you asked dumbfounded.

“Have you even heard what I said?'' he laughed watching the confused expression across your face. “I will help you out. I just said I wanted to catch my crush’s attention. My crush would be you. Do you need any further explanation?” he chuckled playfully as your face grew even more confused. As if your brain was unable to process his words. Even your own brain couldn’t believe what he said. But your heart, your heart was beating dangerously as the words left his mouth as if they needed no further explanation.  

“You like me?” you asked, clearly needing more to go on.

“I have fancied you since forever,” he smiled as he scooted closer to you on the bench. “I wasn’t sure if you liked me, you always got mad at me. But then sometimes you gave me these mixed signals and I couldn’t place it anywhere,” he shook his head scoffing. “Up until I overheard Lily’s conversation with James, and it felt like hope,” he raised a questioning brow, waiting for you to put the puzzles together, but you remained silent.

He turned his complete torso towards you, watching your profile as he tucked a loose hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up, but you didn’t turn away. You knew you were exposed, but you still didn’t know how to react. You looked at the boy, his grey eyes eagerly waiting for you to say something.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked. “You already know, don’t you?” you turned away as you heaved a deep sigh.

“I just overheard a conversation, that means nothing,” he shook his head, disputing. “Look at me, please,” he asked as he gently got hold of your jaw and turned you back. “Do you like me?” he asked, wasting no time.

You wanted to say no, you still couldn’t believe his words. Your constant bickering has been ongoing for so long, that it just didn’t make sense. But then something had changed in you too. You didn’t know when you started having feelings for him, but it just happened. However, accepting your own feelings seemed more reasonable than his.

“I’m being honest. I do like you. I have for quite a while,” his eyes didn’t lie. He looked at you with a warm, loving expression and although it was hard to believe his words, his gaze couldn’t have lied.

You let out a deep breath as you composed yourself, preparing for the worst. Maybe it was a prank, and he was going to laugh, maybe he was just joking with your feelings, maybe he made a silly bet with someone. You didn’t know what to expect, but every possible negative outcome went through your head ringing an alarm.

You looked down at your lap, playing with your hands nervously. “I do like you,” you whispered, your tone uncertain and barely audible. You collected all the bravery you could find within you and looked up at him. A gentle, warm smile spread across his face as he lifted one of your hands and cupped it in his, warming up your cold skin. His genuine expression reassured you with a simple look at him. The whole boy seemed so happy, he couldn’t have played the part that well. It felt unreal, as if a dream of yours came true, but you couldn’t possibly feel happier.  

“So, if I ask you to go out with me, would I get a yes?” he asked as his smile grew wider.

“I guess, you would have to ask me first,” you chuckled, making him huff playfully.

“Okay, so, would you like to go out with me?” he asked confidently and for a second you left him hanging, as if you were debating your options.

“I guess that could be arranged,” you replied which made him shake his head as he pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, his face hidden in your neck. As he pulled away, he stopped a few inches away from your face, his eyes wandering between your eyes and lips, his intentions screaming obviousness.

“I- Can I kiss you?” he asked, the unusual uncertainty in his voice making you braver this time.

“I don’t know, can you?” you asked back, clearly catching him off guard. But soon his surprised expression turned into a cheeky grin.

“Well, I could,” he smirked, but didn’t move.

“Then I guess the question is, will you?” you added playfully, trying to guide him to the right direction, hoping for him to finally make that last step.

“Would you like me to?” he played along, but this time you started losing your patience.

“For Merlin’s sake, just kiss me already!” you instructed him, huffing, both of you laughing silently, before he placed his hands on each side of your neck and pulled you closer to him, attaching his lips to yours finally.

As if you have been waiting forever, it felt like pure satisfaction, warm, happy and safe. Sirius felt like a safe place that you didn’t know you needed, but now that you were there, you couldn’t even think of ever letting go. You fit into each other’s embrace so perfectly, it felt like a dream.

…

Your body was sweating, your head was spinning as you slowly opened your eyes. A wet towel was carefully placed on your forehead which fell down into your lap as you slowly pushed yourself up into a seated position.

As you looked around you recognised the hospital wing of Hogwarts, the metal frame of the bed creaking as you moved around. You pulled the cover off your body and placed your feet on the cold floor, hissing at the uncomfortable feeling. But before you could have gotten out of bed, the door opened, and a blonde-haired girl walked into the infirmary, reading a newspaper.

“Marlene?” you asked. She looked up from her book and gave you a confused look.

“What are you doing? Madam Pomfrey said you should rest. You got hit pretty badly,” she added as she sat down beside you.

“What are you talking about?” you frowned in confusion.

“You got hit by a bludger and passed out. Do you not remember?” you shook your head in a reply.

“And what about Sirius?” you asked, clinging onto the only recent memory you could remember.

“What are you talking about? You hate Sirius,” she furrowed her brows as she watched your face fall.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you have been kicked in the gut and kneed in the chest. Air didn’t seem to want to leave or enter your body as you finally understood that it was all a dream. A wishful thinking that you knew too well would never happen. There was no way Sirius would ever look at you that way and to realise it after you woke up from a dream that quite possibly felt like the best thing that happened to you in awhile, it was heart-breaking.

“I do,” you replied as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks and reveal your well-hidden secret. You felt so stupid, so naive for thinking about having a shot at the coolest boy of the school, but most of all, you hated yourself for having such a vivid dream. A dream that you knew will always remain only a dream.

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[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 33

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L   Warnings: Swearing, unhealthy defence mechanisms

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Playlist 】

Chapter 33: Betray The Moon as Acolyte

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

September 8th, 1976

Remus peered up to the night sky, resplendent with a coruscating kaleidoscope of stars and the full moon. He yawned, acutely aware of his bones shifting, aching and cracking. Resting on a small cot pressed against the wall in the corner of the shrieking shack, Remus felt his temperature rise and skin stretch too thinly across his body.

“I’ll be back once the sun rises, dearie,” Madam Pomfrey called out, the door millimetres from locking shut.

“Wait,” he said and Madam Pomfrey re-opened the door with a warm, motherly smile.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For always helping, I know it can be… tiresome.”

How long has it been? That Pomfrey had been helping him out, every full moon — had known of his affliction and been there to assist? It was years now, countless hours of her time wasted on him.

Was he that much of a burden? The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, that made his face pucker and heart lacerate itself in fresh wounds.

“Don’t concern yourself with me, honey.” Then the door clicked shut and he heard her utter a spell; to confine the beast within the four walls.

The tormenting plague increased every minute as the countdown to his transformation loomed. His heart thudded stridently and his breathing was ragged and strained. His teeth grinded against each other and his tongue swept across them, feeling them elongate and reshape in preparation.

Remus grabbed the hem of his jumper, exasperated by the overwhelming heat and because he didn’t want to shred it in the process. As he slipped out, feeling the adored red fabric, tattered with holes and frayed yarn in his hands, the door opened and he could already smell Peter and James. Subconsciously, he shielded his body from them, to avoid them from seeing all of his scars.

Remus became dizzy instantly. James wore a particularly strong perfume that day.

More than anything, over the pain and hint of repugnance, he was nervous. It would be the first full moon since… the prank that the Marauders would be together for his transformations. Or all the Marauders aside from one and nobody wanted to address it.

A sharp pain thundered through his skull and he knew time was slipping from him. Remus couldn’t recall the last time the moments before his transformation were that painful.

“You okay, Moons?” Wormtail asked, dropping down beside him. Prongs followed in suit, taking his sweater and folding it neatly.

“I’m fine — umph —”

“Shit! Prongs, get back and turn. Now!”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

After a week of lessons, there were considerable adjustments to the curriculum. Everyone noticed and it quickly dispersed a sombre milieu on all of Hogwarts.

Classes were smaller, many parents deciding to transfer their children to other magical schools around the world. Y/N even received a few worried letters from Matthew that there was an abundance of new British students attending Ilvermorny.

In his worried letters, Matthew informed her that the MACUSA and French Ministry of Magic had been stepping in, fighting forces against the wizarding war. It was all news to her. Ever since James’ parents cancelled their subscription to the Daily Prophet after their beliefs that they were biased, she hadn’t been able to catch up.

More defence and attack spells were taught and everyone became well aware of why someone of Professor Elway’s reputation and skill was there. The same went for the Duelling re-opening and even Flitwick initiated small tutorial sessions for students of all grades to teach them defensive spells.

Defence Against the Dark Arts became nothing more than a Muggle military camp. Elway drilled the students; attack and defence spell after the other, never stopping for a second. Transfigurations focused more on concealment and vanishing charm and every day McGonagall looked as if she aged a decade by the solemn, haunted look that nowadays was permanently carved into her.

Herbology went over a vast majority of life-saving plants, herbs and how to make their own medicine. And Potions heavily focused on identifying spiked potions with poisons and how to create reversal serums in case of emergencies.

The students of Hogwarts weren’t brainless. They knew they were training them for war.

She tried to ignore it, but if anything Y/N felt foolish. The magical world was meant to be an escape, not a guardhouse.

It didn’t help that the murders from the summer played heavily in her mind along with the rumours of Voldemort recruiting students from Hogwarts, prompting a spike of distrust to spread rampantly. It wasn’t time to fight or lose people but to keep those you trusted and loved close. So Lily keeping her distance had her worried.

Sorted into the same dorm as last year, she reckoned she would have some time with Lily but every day it seemed like she was busy with prefect duties, or had homework, or reading, or a new study group she needed to rush off to. She and Lily hadn’t resumed their usual nightly routines either, hadn’t sat with her in the Great Hall since the welcome back feast and hadn’t said more than a word to her.

It was evident that Lily was avoiding her and only her.

Maybe Y/N had gotten clingy, got too close too hastily because it felt too similar to how her mother treated her. It caused the imminent, spine-chilling feeling of wanting to push everyone away.

Extreme distress was starting to pile up.

Luckily, James stayed a constant consistency in her life and a lot of her pent-up fears dissipated by his presence. He never ignored her, if anything he went out of his way to be nearer. Even Peter and most notably, Remus, had become part of her daily life more than ever.

It was terrifying and everything told her to run. Don’t get too close, don’t get too comfortable. But it was hard not to.

That morning, James crept up to her dorm, knocking softly as she popped out, ready for the day. He looked exhausted; his eye bags were prominent, darkened and cradled in his arm, he held Remus’ rabbit.

“To keep him company,” James explained, yawning while escorting her down the staircase, passing the rabbit over. “It was a rough night.”

It would be the first time they would try to incorporate Y/N into replacing Black and balance out James’ other priorities with Remus’ moon cycles. And unable to reschedule Quidditch try-outs to another morning and James forced to leave prematurely, she would have to step in.

But her fears skyrocketed. Were they pushing it? She was only visiting him… It wasn’t out of pity and she genuinely wanted to be there to support Remus.

“What if he doesn’t want visitors?”

James rolled his eyes. “It will be fine. He’ll appreciate it more than he’ll let on.”

But then a faint floral and citrus smell flowed through the distilled air as she took a deep breath.

“James, you smell really good... Are you wearing perfume?”

His frown transformed into a prideful simper. “Bought the same perfume as my mum. Helps when I miss her.”

She gasped. “A mama’s boy!” And then pinched his cheek.

About to step out of the portrait, James must’ve accidentally activated a prank because the moment his hand brushed against the portrait, four Muggle stereos floated above his head, blasting break-up songs on the highest volume. It rattled the walls and made their ears bleed.

“Fucking hell!” James shouted, his wand swishing around to stop the music while Y/N stuffed Remus’ rabbit inside her bag and bewitched a silencing spell around it.

“Students are sleeping!” Lily shrieked, rushing down the stairs and charmed away the stereos.

“Oi! You think we don’t know?” James retorted, a hand clutching his ear. “Emmeline…”

“Emmeline?” Lily repeated, shaking her head. “May Merlin himself save the poor girl daft enough to end up with you.”

The only enlightened that took away from the war and recent murders was Emmeline and her friends pranking and wreaking havoc like the Marauders onto James as a punishment.

He deserved it and even James agreed.

“Where are you two headed?” Lily inquired and for the first time since the train ride, she addressed Y/N head-on.

A glimmer of hope.

“Aw, finally starting to care about me, Evans?” James joked although it’s laced with uncertainty.

Y/N cut off Lily before she had the chance to speak, eager to answer her question. “It’s Remus.”

Recognition filtered through her, gaze shooting up to the large grandfather clock beside the bookshelves. Lily’s head bobbed repeatedly, pressing her lips together sympathetically. She considered James for a moment.

“Will you be back in time for lessons?” Lily then whipped her hands around. “Y’know what, forget it. I’ll take notes for… both of you.”

Y/N felt James nudge her foot, simultaneously forcing out a cough. His hand went to scratch behind his neck. “R-right. Erm, I — we appreciate it, Evans, but ugh — we have a free period this morning.”

Lily’s jaw dropped. “Oh. Sorry.”

“NO!” James said a little too loud. “I mean, no. It’s fine. Thank you.”

Y/N pursed her lips, her neck bending as her shoulders tensed while watching their interaction play out. “Alrighty, we should go. Thank you, Petals.” She interjected. Her hands spun James around as they walked out of the common room and to the hospital wing.

Both students groaned out loudly. Black was there, sitting on the ground and back pressed against the wall to the wing.

“He doesn’t want to see you,” James challenged. His feet pivoted to Black, before her hands pressed against his chest, preventing him from touching Black and starting yet another fight. “Leave it.”

His eyes flickered from her to Black. Sighing, he made a slight rearward movement and removed his glasses to rub his eyes.

“Just don’t follow us.”

They walked inside without sparing him another glance.

“Here comes the fucking sun, Moons!” James chirped, his mood altering drastically. But she staggered behind a beat.

Remus was already awake, quietly chatting to Peter. His bed curtains were half drawn and she took his rabbit from her bag, pulling it close to her chest.

His head snapped in their direction, but instead of his eyes landing on James, it went squarely to her. She smiled, eyes analyzing every ripple of expression. He didn’t seem angry. No, not at all, but stunned.

Once James realized she wasn’t by his side anymore, he turned and looped an arm over her shoulder. He whispered, “Moony won’t bite. It’s okay.”

“I wasn’t expecting you.” Remus finally said, smiling.

“Of course I’d come.” Confidence now circulated her body as she approached him, handing over his rabbit. James was delighted at his response while the rabbit nuzzled its way into the crook of Remus’ neck, tickling him. She murmured into his ear, not wanting to peer pressure him by others' wants, “You don’t mind me being here, do you? I’ll leave, no hurt feelings.”

Remus shook his head, petting his rabbit. “No, please stay.” He croaked, voice deep and tired.

“Oi!” James said, albeit quietly.

“Flirt somewhere else,” Peter added with false annoyance.

James nodded. “So, little Moony —”

“Little Moony?” Remus groaned. “What?”

“Aw,” she teased, “Is moody Moony making an appearance?”

“Did you come just to make fun of me?”

But then Peter grinned cheekily, moving to softly slap his hand down on his thigh in the same tempo as Here Comes the Sun. Y/N and James immediately caught on, ready to chagrin while Remus shook his hands in front of his face to get them to stop.

“Don’t you —“

“Here comes the sun, moody Moony —“ “Crikey.”

“Here comes the sun, and we say it’s alright!” They sang, keeping their voices to a minimum to not worsen his potential headache. They had to hold back their laughter as Peter began to replicate the horrible instrumental with his voice. James sang the loudest. “Little Moony, it’s been a long cold moon cycle.”

Madam Pomfrey poked her head from her office, ready to tell the visitors to be quieter than a mouse — or kick them out in favour of Remus’ rest but she froze. Remus was poorly attempting to cover his smile, his cheeks burning a bright red and she hadn’t seen him that happy after full moons. And after what happened last year, his happiness was all she wanted. So she sat back down, smiling to herself at the horrid sing.

“Little Moony, the smiles returning to the faces —”

“Guys!”

“Little Moony, it feels like years since it’s been here.”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

James eventually left, rushing to tryouts with Marlene with a great deal of apprehension. When the bell rang, students rushing down for breakfast, both Y/N and Peter departed momentarily to the Great Hall, grabbing a few snacks and tea Remus requested.

But the moment Peter stepped foot outside the hospital wing, it was as if any sort of energy left his body. He became sluggish, moving slowly and yawned multiple times.

“Pete, go back to him, I’ll get everything,” she implored. “Or get some rest. I can’t imagine staying up all night can be good.”

“It’s —” A yawn. “— Sorry. I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t push. They made their way around fast and exited quickly before a group of seventh and sixth years swarmed Peter. A few even greeted her, attempting to strike a conversation.

Peter sent her a dejected look, passing her the rest of the snacks and teacup.

“I’ll meet you there.”

She rushed back in record time. Black was still sitting outside the wing and she could faintly hear him muttering her name but she disregarded him wholly.

But the sight inside the hospital made her heart shatter.

Remus was haggard, dishevelled and face screwed together in pain. He tried to push himself up multiple times to reach behind his head, to his pillow. But it was futile.

The crinkling of the wrapper in her hand made her wince; it became the loudest object in the world at that moment. It forewarned Remus and she gently padded over. She sat down gently on the edge of his bed, setting down everything on the metal tray.

“Don’t push yourself — here, let me.” Remus visibly reclined into himself, covering his scarred arms with the blanket coiled by his side. But he listened without complaints as she reached behind his head, fluffing his pillow and helped him lay back down gently. “Not feeling too good?”

“Like shit.”

It became awkward fast.

“Um… Peter’s coming. Was held up with a couple of seventh years.” “You can leave if you don’t want to be here,” Remus blurted out, “I won't force you —”

“Woah there!” She felt as if she was slapped by him. The sudden change had her wheeling. “Who said you’re forcing me? You’re my Moony, no?”

He breathed out a chuckle and shifted towards her. She glanced at the tray with a few potions. What he said stuck to her.

“Do you mind if you can pour those into my tea? Thanks.” Remus croaked.

She nodded, unscrewed the cork to the vials and mixed it into the drink. The clinking sound of the spoon tapping against the porcelain cup.

“What is this?”

“Um… a mixture of powder silver and Nightshade,” grumbled Remus, trying to push himself up as she handed him the cup. “Helps with the pain and fogginess.”

Her mind was restless. “Can I ask some questions?”

His eyebrows knitted together. “Questions?”

“Y’know, about being a werewolf.”

He took a giant gulp. “Did you just skip all the Werewolf questions on the OWLs?” Remus laughed.

“I bet half of it’s false.” She admitted truthfully. “Besides, how am I supposed to help next time if I don’t know?”

Remus stayed quiet for a long time after she said that and she wondered if she pushed a boundary. But then he nodded, urging her to continue.

“Okay… so silver doesn’t hurt you, right?” She watched as Remus sip his tea before having to put it down to laugh.

“Myth.”

“So all the silver bullet stuff..?”

He gave a full-body laugh. “Myth. Sorry, not what you were expecting?”

“No,” she admitted after a bit, embarrassed. All those children's stories were false…

“Silver can’t hurt me, I don’t grow hair rapidly. I like eating rare meat; I have trouble sleeping, I don’t have curved fingernails or low-set ears. I can’t run super fast but I can see better in the dark, can hear, smell and am stronger than the average Muggle or Wizard.”

“Can you always smell or hear better? Or does it increase near the full moon?”

“It becomes stronger near the full moon and after for a while.”

“Wait… Does that mean you can smell people. Like me?!” She was appalled and crossed her arms over herself as if the action would suddenly cover any scent.

Remus barked out laughing before wincing as a dull pain shocked through his system. “You smell fine. Don’t worry.”

Her hands found their way to cover her mouth. She was mortified. “You have a way with words, Lupin.”

Remus was on the verge of tears, nearly choking on himself to prevent laughing. He endured the deep bruise on the side of his ribs digging into him but he couldn’t stop.

She slapped his arm playfully and took the now empty teacup from his hand, setting it down on the metal tray and ushered him to slide over in his bed. He doesn’t hesitate.

Y/N slid beside him, and she could feel the fluctuating rise and fall of Remus’ chest as his chuckles came to a slow halt. She took the rabbit from his lap, holding it in her arms carefully.

“Does she have a name?” She questioned, scratching behind its floppy ears. Remus chose the least threatening rabbit.

“No.”

“We should think of one then.”

Remus watched her, listening to the words pouring out. But then he cringed inwardly, reminded of his cruelty to her a couple of months ago. He wasn’t expecting her to visit and it came as a pleasant surprise. It made his heart flutter. She wasn’t scared. She hadn’t been lying that night. He was accepted.

He tuned in to her heartbeat: steady and calm. Slow.

Her words echoed in his head. I feel safe with you.

Safe.

Remus felt a whisper of a smile worm it's way onto him. As soon the realization came, the dull ache in his body subdued, the burning in his throat faded and the hollow ache in his heart filled with a golden glow. Just a bit.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

September 10th, 1976

“I’m sorry,” Black said, his eyes wide and pleading as he sat beside her in the Great Hall. She ignored him.

“I need to explain, please,” Black begged in a hushed voice while she searched the library’s premises for Regulus. She ignored him yet again.

“Tesoro mio,” Black flirted, both sitting in the common room as she added notes in the werewolf section in her textbook. His new tactic caught her off guard but she prevailed, getting up and leaving.

“Talk to me,” Black whined. “Please.” She ignored him, continuing to walk to class calmly and held her head high. She just left the hospital wing and Black was trailing her.

But he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a nearby broom closet and closed the door.

“Get off of me!” She nearly screamed. Thankfully, he was smart enough to keep a healthy distance away. She kept her hands balled into a fist, preventing herself from taking one of the dust brooms and smashing it on his head.

“Sorry! But you won’t talk to me any other way!”

Darkness enclosed them, only the light seeping through the cracks of the old wooden door illuminated Black as every ounce of restrengthen was pushed to the edge.

A flurry of apologies fell from his lips but she wouldn’t have it. Simply looking bored at her nails and tapping her foot against the ground.

“I know you’re mad — you have every right to be! I get that, I understand.”

“Then leave me alone?” She jeered sarcastically, handing grazing the doorknob.

“Wait! Please, just hear me out — let me explain —”

“Explain what?” She lashed out through gritted teeth. “You should count your stars that you don’t have an attempted murder charge.”

Her heart thumped rather fast and would have been distressing had she not been controlled by anger. Everything was overshadowed by a grim penumbra sweeping over them, closing in on her and Black and it wasn’t because of the lack of light in the dingy closet.

She was revolted by him. Sick of seeing his sad face, moping around the hospital wing or looking at her or the other Marauders in yearning.

“Do you think I’ll care about what you want to say?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Apology not accepted, dipshit.”

His head bowed. “I deserved that.” “You think?”

“It’s just that —”

Her temper spiked to the highest level and her hand drifted to her back pocket and grazed the tip of her wand.

“I —”

Something in her snap. “Shut up. Shut up! Stop trying to defend yourself! Stop it! I don’t want to hear it!”

Black was visibly shutting down. “Please, just calm down…”

And then everything poured out.

“Calm down? Calm down?! I gave — I put my trust in you and you immediately ran with it, breaking it twice and then broke everyone else’s! How am I supposed to talk to you like everything’s okay? I get that you don’t like me, that you don’t like Snape, but really? What do you not understand?!”

He was nodding his head, taking it, never once trying to defend himself. His head hung similar to a child being scolded, hands curled around himself.

“You must have never cared for them.”

Black went oddly still. “That's a bold lie and you know that.”

“Do I?” She ridiculed. “Do you want to know the funny part? I was starting to care for you. Apparently, you never did.”

“That’s not true.”

There, a flicker of rage. Finally a reaction other than pathetic regret and guilt. Something cold crept into his eyes, hardening and entirely stormy and silver, reminding her of last year where they constantly fought. But then, it was washed away with a blink.

“I was nothing but a toy to you!”

“Y/N...”

“You. Never. Cared. About —”

“Stop it! Of course I —”

“— Me. Or. The. Other —”

“— fucking cared —”

“— Marauders —” “ — about you!”

Her eyes stung with bitter unshed, frustrated tears and her throat burned, constricting together. Emotions she hadn’t taken a moment to consider hit her within seconds and everything was too overwhelming.

The material of her shirt suddenly turned itchy. Her skin was too tight and she felt herself rock back and forth in a way to calm down.

For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer as it fell silent but she struck a nerve.

“Stop saying that!” He shouted. Now not breaking her stare and took a step forward.

“You’re fucking selfish. You betrayed them.” A step forward.

“You only cared about yourself.” Black shook his head. Another step forward.

“If you ever cared about me — about anyone else you’ve hurt — you wouldn’t have done… that.” A step forward.

They were the closest they had been in months. Their breaths were laboured and ragged. Being that close to him raised all the hairs on her neck in a way she used to love but now hated herself for.

The very notion made her nauseous. Disgusted.

She missed him. Truly. It was such a profound hurt and longing that ran deeper than wanting a quick snog or shag. But that was her problem that she was going to have to hide, bury in an air-sealed chest and throw away.

He opened his mouth and he leant forward inappreciably. But whatever words he was about to spew, he stopped himself. She could feel his breath fan her face, both of their chest raised and fell rapidly.

They stayed like that for a while and she held back from crying, feeling her heart pound in her chest.

“Is there anything else you want to say?” He asked dejectedly.

Why did you have to be so stupid? We could’ve… you could’ve had everything.

Do you miss me?

Did you ever care, even a little?

“This time,” her voice was no louder than a rustle, “I mean it. I hate you. Truly.”

Lie.

Black gave her one last glance through heavy, desolate, half-lidded eyes, closing them shut. “Ti voglio bene.”

Her frown doubled, wondering if he mocked her. Why did he always do that?

“At least you’re consistent in one thing.”

She slipped out, her hand on the door and cracked it open, leaving him there.

“Being a fucking liar.”

She slammed the door shut with so much violence that it made a couple of bystanders passing by yelp and stare. The shattering of glass from within the closet echoed and it made her breathless.

She had to lean against the stone wall, her body buzzing and numb from the adrenaline.

Sometimes everything in her life seemed so… random. What if everything could have been avoided? One simple word, maybe if she said something different, or did something different, would the outcome have been better? Or worse?

What if she had two parents? What if she had been raised by a loving mother? Would she have been that hurt by his actions if opening up was less… impossible?

What ifs…

She stumbled her way to class mindlessly, horribly late. The floorboards creaked, cutting Slughorn off while she lurked in the doorway. The teacher’s head, along with everyone else in the room, snapped up.

Lily looked at her worriedly and concern was written in every inch of her face. James had a double-take and became alarmed while Marlene on the other side of the class looked around nervously.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“No worries, m’girl!” Slughorn smiled. “Please, take the seat next to… Severus! Now, I was saying, I have a small tradition I’d like to do every year with my students.”

Y/N didn’t even interject; too drained after what happened and sat by Snape.

“Can anyone tell me what this is?” The professor held up a tiny bottle. “Or can anyone tell me what Felix Felicis is?”

Lily raised her hand, casting a concerned gaze to her before answering. From the corner of her eye, she could see Barty and Avery, along with a few other students whispering to each other as Lily spoke; all of them forcing down a smile. Y/N vaguely sensed herself prickle.

“It’s known as Liquid Luck. As the name suggests, it makes the drinker lucky.”

“Beautiful answer! Quite right! Ten points for Gryffindor! Now, whoever brews the Draught of Living Death the closest will win this prize at the end of this lesson. Off you go!”

The class was scurrying off quickly while she made her way around leisurely. Snape’s sopophorous bean had been hitting her multiple times.

“Would you fucking —” she grabbed the bean with her hands and threw it at Snape and he hissed at. “Just take your knife blade and squeeze it down on the side with your dagger.”

Snape scoffed. “That’s not going to work you d —”

Snape shut up immediately as she crushed the bean with a sharp knife and flicked the juice into the cauldron.

“Now stop hitting me or I’ll pour your potion on the ground.”

Snape’s attention wasn’t on her, instead of trying to decipher her scribbles before taking her book away from his eyesight. She hit him with her book.

She completed the rest of the potion with ease. Snape was nearly done with his potion, she could tell he was on the right path before Slughorn sauntered around the classroom to observe the students. At James’ cauldron, he made no comment but instead helped stir his potion. Lily was given an approving nod, announcing to the class that she earned Gryffindor a few house points until making his way over to their table, peering into the cauldrons. At Snape’s concoction, he gave a bright smile and opened his mouth until he saw hers and a look of pure delight spread over him, his hands clapping together.

“Oho! Excellent! Miss L/N has done it! We have our winner!”

A small round of claps went around meanwhile James and Marlene cheered loudly, effectively embarrassing her.

“Show off,” Snape sneered. She ignored him.

Once the bell rang, Slughorn called her over to collect her vial of Liquid Luck. She slipped the bottle into her pocket for safekeeping.

But before she left, she stopped and spun around. “Professor Slughorn?”

“Yes?”

“I read in my Advanced Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook, but I found that there’s no Potion to help Werewolves. I was wondering if that’s still true? I know books can be outdated.”

Slughorn gave her a pensive look. “I think that’s a matter for Madam Pomfrey. Is there a reason why?”

“It’s just —” She made up a lie quickly. “I’m nervous about NEWTs and how I’ll do in my studies and it’s merely an interest.”

“Oh, my girl! You are excellent. By far one of the best students I’ve ever had. You don’t need to worry!” Slughorn cheered. Slughorn seemed genuine and she smiled at the praise. “And for your question, no. Sadly there isn’t.”

“At all?”

Slughorn thought for a while. “If I recall, there have been recent developments with stewed Mandrakes. It’s rumoured to help lycanthrope individuals ease their way back into the original human state.”

Y/N stored the newfound information in her head. She thanked him, turning to leave until calling out again. Slughorn twirled his head.

“I was wondering if I could practice more — like I said, I‘m nervous about my NEWTs.”

There wasn’t even a delay and Slughorn beamed. “Of course! As long as you clean up after yourself, you may come and go as you please. I’ll make sure to leave the doors open until curfew.

“Oh! I’m planning to host another Slugclub dinner soon, I expect you to be there?”

“... Of course, sir.”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

Translations:

Tesoro mio = My treasure or 'honey'

Ti voglio bene = 'I love you' but its not like what you think. It's more of an unconditional and selfless love that means 'I want you to be well.' It places an emphasis on the tender and affectionate feelings you have for the other person. It's the safer option to say to your significant other if it's a very new relationship.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost or modify

#remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin #Remus Lupin x reader #Remus Lupin x you #sirius black #Sirius Black x reader #Sirius Black x y/n #Sirius Black angst #sirius black fanfiction #remus lupin fanfiction #marauders fluff #the marauders imagine #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #young marauders #harry potter marauders #marauders era #young!remus lupin #young!sirius black #young!remus lupin x reader #young!sirius black x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #marauders x reader #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp series #the marauders #sbtmas

[ramp-it-up]

Communication

Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Minors DNI, Dom Lin, light bondage, explicit laguage, edging, oral sex (female receiving), love fluff, marriage. All errors my own.

A/N: This an ask from the 100 smut prompts ask list by @sebastianabucknettastan (pic credit as well) AND the following birthday request from @sillyteecup

Love You Tee! I hope it’s filthy enough and that you have a great day! ❤️

Lin was talking to a reporter when he saw you enter the venue.

He was instantly pissed the fuck off, but used his acting skills to play it off.  

There were so many things you needed to answer for.

First, you wore the dress he specifically told you not to wear. 

The gold one that set off your skin tone and that that fit perfectly before the baby, but after, with your slightly larger thighs, hips and breasts, fit like a glove.

A skin tight glove.

Next, you put your hair up, showing off your neck and your cleavage, which was pushed up by the special fuck me bra that you had on. The one you only wore for him at home.  

Then, you wore your 6-inch gold Jimmy Choos with the stiletto heels.  The ones that you only wore for him at home.

That is, after your fuck me bra had been thrown across the room.

What was worse was that he didn’t know any of this before he left the house because you were taking so long to get dressed that he had to leave without you.

When you joined him, you met his cold, hard glare before the acting took over and his face broke out in a smile.

Oh.  Lin was pissed, but he couldn’t let it show. He was the man of the hour. 

For the next 30 minutes, you two were gracious recipients of the most mundane conversation of everyone who wanted to talk to him.  

And you were especially charming, touching every man’s arm, and managing to play with every woman’s hair and smiling at all with that alluring grin that made them all practically drool into your cleavage.

As the night wore on, his smile slipped more and more.  Although you were at his side, which he made sure of, he couldn’t get close enough to say anything to you, which you made sure of.

He knew what this was about.  Lin had informed you that his next gig was halfway around the world and that you would either have to accompany him, or stay in New York while he had fun creating shit while you took care of your son. A single parent yet again.

Shit was getting old.  

Lin didn’t want to leave you, he wanted you to come with and he couldn’t understand your resistance, especially since your job was easily mobile and you had the means to go.  

But he was especially frustrated that you wouldn’t talk about it, you were just torturing him with this display of your sexy allure that he wanted to be just for him.  

Each time you gave someone else the benefit of your attention, yet pulled away from him, he got more and more determined to demonstrate the importance of effective communication to you.

When you were finally seated at the head table, Lin whispered as he drew closer to you. 

To everyone who was watching, and there were a lot of people watching, it looked like normal couple interaction. 

But in reality, it was a threat. 

"You keep acting like a little brat and I’ll take you over my knee right here. I don’t care how many people are watching.”

You finally turned the full wattage of your smile on him.  His heart stopped and he wanted to crawl under the table and lick from the soles of your feet up to your pussy.  

Damn, his wife was beautiful.

“Sir.” 

You said it to piss him off, not project submissiveness, but you could tell by his smirk what he wanted that word to mean. Well, fuck him.

“I’m not acting like a brat, I’m acting like the wife of a Very Important Man at a Very Important Event.”  

You leaned toward him and he was drawn to you, but still pissed.

“If you don’t settle down, I’ll make you.”

You turned and looked him fully in the eye.  

“I’m not scared of you. What are you gonna do? Write the fuck out of a story about me?”

The raised eyebrow and disrespect was the final straw. The emcee was about to introduce him.

Lin leaned even closer.

“I got something better than a spanking. When we get home, I’m cuffing you to the bed and I’m going down on you all night until my jaw is sore.  And if you straighten up now, I might let you cum.”

Your mouth dropped open as the emcee finished introducing him and Lin rose and went to the podium.

You recovered quickly and looked around to see if anyone noticed and then put on your neutral face.

————-

After his speech, it was like nothing happened. And you miraculously found some act right.  

For the remainder of the night, Lin was charming to everyone, even you.  

You even danced and he held you close, caressing your side and seamlessly catching your rhythm.

It was like you dreamed what he’d said, because he even kissed your hand before he led you to the car, and you even leaned your head on his shoulder and fell asleep on the way home. 

It turned out to be a pretty nice night.

You got home and paid the babysitter and ordered her an Uber. Lin watched her get in the car while you went to check on the baby.  

He was so freakin cute and you stayed to watch him sleep a bit, never getting enough of his big fat cheeks.

When you went into the bedroom, Lin was nowhere to be found, coming out of the walk-in closet as you closed the door.

“Hey, come here.”  

His smile was his signature mix of angelic and devilish, and you were sure of what he wanted.  

You were glad he seemed to forget the earlier difficulty and you glady went toward him.  

Maybe you would give him some tonight and you could talk about the issue in the morning.

Lin put his hands on your shoulders.

“You look. Incredible tonight.”  His hands moved down your arms and moved to clasp your fingers.

"You want me to make you come?"

"Yes." You started unbuckling his belt. 

Lin pulled away from you. His eyes glinted, hard and cold.

"You want it?" He moved to sit on the bed.  He patted the duvet beside him. “Come.”

You came and sat beside him, anticipation making you shiver. Lin leaned over to you, his lips oh so close, and watched as you closed your eyes. 

He gave you a quick kiss on your lips and pulled you onto the bed with him.

His mouth laid ravage to yours and just as your senses went wild, he moved to pull your dress up. He stopped and smiled.  

You were only wearing the fuck me bra and no panties.

“You do wanna get fucked I see. How convenient.”

You just smiled back at him and clenched your thighs together. 

Him still being in his tux making you very wet.

Lin’s dark beauty was making you weak.

Lin continued to pull your dress over your arms, and you raised them to make it easier.  But somehow, the dress stopped over your eyes. 

You smiled before you panicked, thinking Lin was playing some cute little game.

You panicked when you realized the game wasn’t cute.

You realized the game wasn’t cute when you felt the cuffs go around your wrists and onto the bars of the bed.

“Lin?” 

You could only see his outline moving around as you struggled and tested the cuffs.

“This isn’t funny Lin!”  You were panicking.

“No. It’s not. But I told you what was going to happen.”

“What?”

Lin took your legs and spread them apart, you pulled them back together.  He slapped your thigh and pulled them apart again.

“Leave them open or I’ll get the spreader bar.”

Lin watched your lip tremble as kept your legs open, while also watching your slick drip down your folds. 

He smiled and leaned over, mouth near your ear.

“I’m going to keep my promise.”  You visibly trembled.  

“Do you want to watch, or not?  Your choice.”  

Lin’s hands were on your thighs now, slowly, too slowly moving up toward your apex. He stopped, thumbs about two inches away from your slit, and asked again.

“Well?”

You whimpered, wanting some kind of contact. Something to give you relief.

“I wanna see you Baby.  I wanna see you make me cum.”

You were trying it, and Lin shifted, lifting your dress and propping your head up with it as he shook his head at you.

“IF I make you cum.”

Lin returned to the exact position he was in, with this thumbs exactly two inches away from where you needed them to be.

“I need your words.  What’s your greenlight word?” 

Lin moved his hands a quarter of an inch closer and you tried not to move.  

“Banquo.” 

“Good girl. What about when you need to stop?”

You were getting anxious.  Safe word play was intense.

“Macduff.”

“Good girl. Where are we at now?” 

Lin was sliding his thumbs closer to your dripping heat. He was right there and you practically screeched, “Banquo, Banquo.”

“Gooooood girl.”  

Lin finished sliding both thumbs into you, circling and sliding them up and down your slit, bumping and teasing your clit, making you jump and whimper every time.  

He separated his hands and put one thumb on your puckered hole and one thumb in your pussy, rotating them, fucking one hole and teasing the other.

“After I eat you out, I should take your ass. Make you squirt all over the bed. But that would involve you cuming.  And I don’t know….”

“Fuckkkkk, Lin! I want you to feel how wet I am for you. C’mon. Please?”

“Keep begging.”

Your pussy fluttered around his hands and he slowly withdrew them, trailing your wetness down your thighs. 

He was edging you like you had all night. 

And he did. 

He sat back and watched you squirm, a soft smile on his lips.  He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He stared between your legs as he rolled up his sleeves. 

His fucking forearms were driving you crazy. Shit, you should not have been such a bitch.

“Damn, I would take a picture, but I have a specific purpose tonight. And I already have several in my collection.”

Lin was obsessed with your pussy. Absolutely obsessed.  It was his precious.  

He leaned in, his dark head obstructing your view as he oh so slowly licked a long stripe from your ass to your clit. You craned your neck to see him go to work.

“Unnnnnnnhhhhh.”  

You tried to capture his tongue with some kind of impossible pussy trick, but Lin held you fast to the bed.

He chuckled into your folds, and shook his head.  

“You’re hilarious.”  

Then, he opened his mouth wide and stuck his talented tongue as far in your pussy that it could go, his top lip capturing your clit.  

He reached up and grabbed your heaving breasts, squeezing them and rolling your perky erect nipples.

Lin was chowing down.  He fucked you with his tongue until you were about to come again, but stopped.  You groaned, and Lin was glad he’d soundproofed your bedroom.

“Lin. I’m sorry.  Let me cum, please. Please? This pussy is yours. See how you got me? Please. I don't care what you do to me. I want you to make me feel good. Only you can Lin."

He loved your begging and pleading.  He put his face in your place again, this time sucking and manipulating your clit until your legs started shaking violently. 

Your curses and moans only make him lick you faster.

Lin pushed your legs back apart and inserted a  finger inside you, expertly curling it, inexplicably telling you to come hither from inside your vaigna.

“NOW you want to communicate? Should have thought of that earlier.”

"Lin, its...." you breathed.

"Tell me."

Lin ordered, as he stopped what he was doing and wiped his face.

You were panting now,devastated by the loss of your orgasm, and coherent thought completely gone from your mind.

Lin reached out and rubbed your clit again. He leaned over and drew it between his lips, sucking it and making you see stars this time. 

All of a sudden, he stopped sucking and gently, very gently, slapped it. Then, he inserted two fingers from behind while he slapped your clit. It was very intense.

You yelped loudly and had to open your mouth in order to breathe. Your heart was beating so fast.

"Fuck! This pussy is so pretty.”

He started alternately lightly slapping and licking your clit this time. And he stopped every so often to let you come back from the brink. 

Each time he would stop, you would moan louder and louder. The first time he stopped his shirt came off, the third, his pants.

"Lin! I'm going crazy!" 

"But you taste and feel and look so fucking good. I don't know if I ever want to leave where I am right now." 

Lin had stopped and started stroking himself.

“Except…”

You watched him stroke and had to close your eyes. 

Lin shifted and started stroking his tip at your entrance. You were panting so hard you could hardly breathe.

You wiggled your hips and Lin stopped all movement, causing you to whine and pull on the cuffs, causing your breasts to jiggle.

He leaned over, pulled your breasts from the cups of the lace cups, and captured one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple then biting down on it.

You were so overstimulated that this new sensation almost sent you over the edge. Yet again.

You were losing hope of getting satisfaction and started keening. 

“Lin! Pleaseeee!”

This time the desperation in your voice triggered mercy. 

And the way you were coming apart for him triggered his lust.

He continued to suck both nipples brutally until you were arching off the bed, and when he slapped your clit again, plunging two fingers inside you that curled to your spot, you came, hard, squirting all over him and the bed.

“Yes, give me all you got. Such a good girl.”

You trembled as he slid inside, and your body came alive again as he slipped in and out of you. 

You could feel every ridge and vein on his huge, hard cock as he lit you up from the inside out. 

You gripped him so good, despite the wetness, that he had to concentrate.

Lin moaned and kissed your pulse point as he felt your walls clench around him.

“So fucking good…so tight and wet… fuck.”

You struggled to catch your breath and Lin leaned up to lift up your ass, pulling your pelvis up to meet him on his knees.

“You feel so good. Make me want to come so bad baby. Take this dick.”

He stroked and stroked until he felt you quivering again.

“Do you like how that feels? Do you like how I’m fucking you?”

“FUCK! Yes Lin. Oh fuck yes. I love it. I want it all.”

“Pussy. Feels… so fucking… goooood.”

His thumb found your clit again. The pleasure built up in your body, your eyes rolled back into your head, and it was game over.

Lin came as you screamed and milked his cock dry. 

It was perfect.

Next thing you knew, Lin was unlocking the cuffs, sitting you up and massaging your shoulders. He led you into the bathroom where the whirlpool tub was halfway full.

You hadn’t realized that you were out for a few minutes.

Lin put your hair up while the tub kept filling.

You climbed into the tub, and Lin climbed in behind you, gathering you in his arms.

You relaxed as he took care of you, his hands soothing your exhausted body.

You floated off to sleep in the warm water surrounded by Lin, the brat in you tamed. 

For the moment.

——

Tagging: @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @ohsoverykeri @curtainremote @delaber @honeysucklechocolatedrippin

#lin manuel miranda x reader #lin manuel miranda #lin manuel x reader #lin manuel miranda smut #lin x reader #lin manuel miranda imagine #lin smut #lin manuel #Lin Sin #ask dj #100 smut prompts #Happy Birthday Tee! 🎉

[nbrook29]

robbe 1️⃣8️⃣

Warning: This is smutty, proceed with caution if it’s not your jam ;)

ao3

If anybody asked Robbe, bad weather in the summer should be illegal. Because what the hell? He needs sun rays and blue sky like he needs oxygen, he wants 30+ degrees temperatures and not a single cloud above, and he always welcomes it with all the small inconveniences it brings along, like clammy skin mere minutes after showering or freckles covering his nose and arms. So when it’s August and it’s raining, sorry, pouring buckets, sue him if he turns into a whiny mess for a bit. That’s just who he is.

Or, that’s who he was. Because right now, lying on a soft cloud-like throw blanket in a not-his t-shirt and sweatpants, head a mess of wild damp curls, fuzzy socks on his feet tangled with another pair, he’s feeling pretty good.

Even though the original scenario for his birthday was supposed to be different.

It all started at 12:00 am sharp with a dorky text from Sander because of course it did.

Sander: Hey there you sexy thing

Heard you're legal now 👅 

Robbe: Omg sander 🙈 

Sander: Yes, that's what you'll be screaming today during our own little celebration 😈

 Robbe almost spat out the water he was drinking, face burning hot as he tried to assess whether anybody was paying him any attention.

 Robbe: SHSHDHSHSJSJS STOP 

Sander: I'll do that thing you like 😏👅 

Robbe: IM WITH MY PARENTS DICKHEAD 

Sander: Am I bothering you cutie? 😏 

Robbe: Yessssss 😩 my face is all red they're gonna know what's up 

Sander: I think *I* know what is up 😏🍆 

Robbe: 🤣 GO COOL OFF 

Sander: Hehe

No but for real now

Happy birthday! 🥰🥳😘❤🎂

I love you SO much ❤❤❤💯 

Robbe: Thank youuuu baby 😊😘 

Sander: Can't believe you're an adult *wipes a tear*

You'll always be my baby tho ❤ 

Robbe: Haha yes ❤❤ 

Sander: I'll be waiting for you at 4 pm 

Robbe: But where?? 

Sander: 😌 

Robbe: Sanderrr tell me 

Sander: Nope 

Goodnight 😌

 Sander absolutely loves to tease him and keep him at the edge of the seat which is why he told him the place only half an hour before their meeting, for which Robbe intended to tell him off. That is until he actually got to Park Spoor Noord and saw his boyfriend lounging on grass, blanket underneath him, surrounded by Robbe’s favorite food and wearing the most charming smile as soon as their eyes met.

And he got him a sunflower. A sunflower. How cute is that?

Needless to say, there was no telling off, Robbe didn’t exactly find time for it between kisses and laughs and Sander feeding him croques and fries and cupcakes (which Sander baked and decorated himself, swearing for dear life the small thingies made from frosting on top were not dicks, but Robbe knows him too well to believe him).

And then all hell broke loose and the storm that had been loudly talked about in the media came to Antwerp and made a puddle out of the two of them.

They looked really miserable, but somehow Robbe couldn’t care less as they were running to Sander’s house holding hands, water in their shoes, the sunflower cradled carefully underneath his shirt, huge smiles on their faces as they finally got there, tripping in their haste to get inside.

The hot shower that followed next and Sander taking the lead oh so well will definitely rank in the top 5 moments of Robbe’s life. He’s very grateful Sander’s parents are on holiday in London because he’s not sure he’d ever be able to look them in the eyes otherwise.

Afterwards, Sander made them ice coffee and handed Robbe his real gift which turned out to be a long weekend in Paris a week from now, shutting him up with a kiss when Robbe was about to protest and complain about it being too expensive.

Since the concert they were supposed to go to was canceled due to poor weather conditions, they resorted to eating cake in Sander’s bed and watching the show Robbe had been talking about for weeks now. Sander, being the thoughtful and amazing boyfriend that he is, graciously agreed to Robbe’s birthday wish and sat him down between his legs, kissed the side of his face, brought his laptop closer and pressed play, as Robbe made himself comfy in his arms, the smile that originated at midnight not slipping off even for a second.

***

Another thunder strikes the night sky and Robbe jumps involuntarily, only a little, more from shock than actual fear, but it doesn’t stop Sander from tightening his arms around him, lips grazing delicately the lobe of his ear.

“Don’t worry, Robin, I will protect you,” he whispers with a teasing note in his voice, grunting when a well-aimed elbow meets his side.

“Shut up, I’m not scared.”

Sander’s only reply is a low chuckle and a kiss on that sweet spot under Robbe’s ear that never fails to send a shiver down his spine. Without barely having to move at all considering how close they are, he tilts his head and noses along Sander’s defined jaw, leaving a peck or two on his cheek.

“Now shush, I can’t focus.” He unceremoniously turns away from Sander’s searching lips, a sly grin on his face when he hears an affronted huff.

“Oh I see how it is, you-”

“Shhhh, Wille is talking.”

Robbe loves to be a little shit sometimes, especially if he wants to get a certain reaction from his huffy other half.

“Look how cute he is.” He has to press his lips hard to keep the giggle in when Sander whines in protest.

“Stoooop, why are you being mean to me.” He now has a full-blown pout on his face. “Jerk.”

The laughter finally comes out and Robbe pauses the show, cooing at Sander’s little frowny face and brushing the runaway strands away from his forehead, leaning up to press a kiss there too.

“It’s okay, I still think you’re the cutest prince in the entire kingdom.” He runs a thumb over his jutting lower lip, kissing it once, twice, three times, until the corners of Sander’s mouth pull up.

“Whatever. Simon is cuter than the other one anyway.”

Robbe grins cheekily. “You just think that because he has curly hair like me.” Sander’s jaw drops at that.

“Wow,” he exclaims, voice faux-scandalous as he shakes his head at Robbe. “Someone’s cocky today.” 

“It’s my birthday so it’s allowed.” Winking at him obnoxiously, he turns back to the screen, hands reaching for Sander’s arms to wrap them around himself again as he settles in his embrace with a content sigh before pressing play.

Sander’s quiet behind him for a second, and then his lips touch his ear again, tongue slightly peeking out to play and lick the shell of his ear with just the tip, hot air hitting Robbe’s skin turning his insides into mush, butchering his focus again just as Sander purrs, “I think it’s hot when you’re like that.”

There’s something important happening on screen, but Robbe can’t make any sense of the subtitles because Sander’s lips continue their path down the column of his throat, stopping for a second to suck a kiss in the middle, killing any rational thought Robbe might have had. His hand rushes to Sander’s head to keep him there without his permission, eyes closing as he sighs when the kiss turns into licks and nips to the thin skin.

“Do you think he could kiss you and touch you like that?”

The question breaks the fog in Robbe’s brain for a second, and he barks a laugh at the slight possessiveness in Sander’s voice that’s poorly hidden under a joking tone. 

“Like what?” He presses, excitement bubbling in his stomach when one of Sander’s hands sneaks underneath his t-shirt, fingers grazing the skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake as they finally reach the place Robbe needs them most. 

“Like that.” He flicks his nipple with those black-polish covered nails of his that make him look so hot Robbe’s head spins. “For starters.” He keeps it up, tugging and pinching unhurriedly, with a dirty smirk growing on his face that Robbe can just feel on his collarbone, and he pulls on his hair as he arches his back a little, seeking more of those skillful fingers.

With his hooded eyes, he can see Sander closing the laptop and putting it away quickly before his other hand joins in the fun, a featherlight touch to the growing bulge in his sweatpants, nothing more than teasing for now.

When Sander’s teeth tug at his earring, Robbe lets out a frustrated whine because it’s too much and not enough at the same time, and his boyfriend reads him like a book because he pulls the t-shirt off him to gain full access, mouth latching on his neglected nipple just as his hand dives inside his pants. It doesn’t grant him any relief though, bypassing his dick completely and traveling lower, caressing the soft skin, one finger running back and forth without reaching any further, and Robbe grabs Sander’s thigh in desperation.

“Sander...”

“You didn’t answer me,” Sander whispers in a sweet sweet voice.

“Whaa?” It takes a second for Robbe to understand what he’s asking and he would laugh if his body wasn’t on fire, Sander playing him like a violin.

Also, this playful possessiveness is getting to him, whether he likes it or not.

He does though. Like it.

Oh fuck, he likes it so much.

“Tell me, baby,” Sander breathes into his mouth as he reaches for something Robbe doesn’t see, and he can hear in his voice how it affects him too, can feel him against his lower back, rubbing himself off with minuscule moves, clearly struggling to hold back. 

“You, just you-, fuuuuck,” Robbe’s cut off when two lubed fingers press inside him at the confession, back arching slightly, the feeling so intense he keens and searches blindly for Sander’s lips. Thankfully, Sander doesn’t waste any time and plunges his tongue inside his mouth, swallowing the little whines that escape them with each twist of his fingers.

The rocking behind him gets faster and this is not how Robbe wants this to end so he breaks the kiss, ignoring Sander’s protests as he pulls away from him, only to pull his pants off completely, green eyes following his every move like he’s ready to pounce, and the need inside Robbe’s stomach only grows. He tugs impatiently at Sander’s sweatpants, biting his lip when his hard cock slaps his abdomen, the smirk dancing on Sander’s lips at his reaction liquefying his insides and he crawls closer to him, needing his touch to ground him. 

“You’re still good to go?” He loves how even when it’s hot and heavy Sander still remembers to check in with him.

“Uh-huh,” is the only thing he can come up with now, especially when Sander’s hand settles on his hip bringing them so close there’s no space left between them, guiding his movements just like Robbe likes. He kisses his glistening neck, licking the sweat of his body as Robbe reaches behind to position his slick cock at his entrance, forehead resting against Sander’s as he sinks down fast.

He gasps at the feeling of fullness because it’s always a lot, but Sander’s hands are always there, brushing his sides in a comforting motion, even when his own body is probably screaming at him to move.

“Happy birthday to me,” Robbe lets out a shaky chuckle that ends up in a gasp when Sander laughs too and involuntarily moves inside him. He’s quick to lick into his lips and distract him from the momentary discomfort, and once he’s done with him, the overwhelming need is back double force. 

Sander notices right away, guiding Robbe’s hips to keep grinding for a while before planting his feet on the bed and holding them in place giving several hard jabs that make Robbe hide his face in his neck, cries leaving his mouth with each thrust.

“Like that?”

Robbe just nods helplessly, mouth leaving a wet trail on his skin, but Sander doesn’t seem to mind because he continues his pace, completely taking over once Robbe’s thighs give out and turning him into a mess.

“You’re so hot like this, fuck.” The strain in Sander’s voice tells him he’s getting close so he goes back to bouncing, meeting him in the middle, and it only takes a minute for things to become too much, Sander’s uncoordinated jerks when he’s coming triggering Robbe’s orgasm too.

They stay like that, cooling off while kissing lazily, tongues sliding against each other, but without a rush for now.

Sander pulls back first, their lips smacking when they disconnect. "I'm sorry today didn't work out." Scrunching up his face, he reaches to comb through Robbe's hair consolingly. He leans into the touch before cuddling even closer, seeking warmth when the cold air makes goosebumps appear on his heated skin.

"But I loved today, really. We can go to a concert another time." He kisses the underside of his jaw, sighing dreamily. "And I can't wait for Paris with you."

#wtfock #not my best work in a long shot #im sorry robbe :( #you deserve better

[in-slytherin-we-trust]

Another Time, Another Life (Draco Malfoy x Reader) Part 3/4

-> A ball, a revelation, and a confrontation... Will it be a happily ever after or a tragic love story that had run its course?

Click here for Part 1 and Part 2

*Y/N/N = Your nickname

“You’re positive that there is no dress code for this pretentious ball?” Y/N asked him again, her head tilted to one side, clamping the muggle phone that Harry gave her as a birthday present between one ear and her shoulder.

“Apparently so at least from the letters that they sent us, there’s no mention of any dress code. Only that we have to wear formal attire.” Harry replied, “I have no complaints though, makes it easier for us.”

Y/N groaned, “Ughh tell me about it. Even without dress code I still don’t own anything appropriate enough for a ball of this scale. Godric knows how many people the Malfoys have invited.”

She stared at her reflection on the cheval glass mirror in front of her, biting her lip in frustration, tossing yet another dress that she deemed not up to standards to the mounting pile on her bed.

“Just pick a random one, *Y/N/N. I’m sure you’d still look lovely either way.” Harry said again, she can picture him shrugging on the other side while saying this.

“Alright.. I’ll figure something out. You’ll come here by 7 right?” Her eyes drifted towards the wall clock, showing the time, 6:15 p.m.

“7 on the dot, just as how we planned. I’ll see you.” Harry said, ending the call.

“Right, see you then.”

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed as she looked at her now half empty wardrobe. Why am I even thinking this hard about what to wear? It’s just a ball, I wouldn’t even stay there long.

Earlier, Harry told her that he’ll be wearing a crimson tie. Should she just match him?

Y/N walked towards the other side of her flat where a small wardrobe stands, this is where she keeps all the clothes that she rarely wears for whatever reason. There’s bound to be a red dress in there somewhere, between all the crammed raiment.

A shimmer of glittering fabric caught her attention, her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes scanned the forgotten dress. She carefully grabbed it by the hanger, the dress twinkling even more as the light from the lamps hit it.

This is it, this is the dress.

The dress fits her like a glove, Y/N wondered how in the world she has never worn this beauty before. She grabbed her wand and utter a spell to do her hair into an elegant updo, leaving some loose curled tendrils hanging down to frame her face.

She finished just in time when she heard a ‘pop’ and the Boy Who Lived appears in her living room.

Harry’s mouth formed a brilliant smile as he took her appearance in. “See what I mean when I said you could wear absolutely anything? You look stunning, *Y/N/N.”

Y/N returned his grin, “Glad I got your stamp of approval, you’re looking rather dashing yourself. Shall we?”

Harry nodded as he offers her his hand to link with hers, then they apparated together to Malfoy Manor.

———————————————————————

Both Y/N and Harry cannot recognize this new version of Malfoy Manor in front of them. The sprawling mansion that used to has doom and gloom written all over it has been renovated inside out.

The large hallways are still sumptuously decorated but now brightly lit, rococo style lamps in gold and silver lined the walls, casting a warm glow.

A steward welcomed them when they entered the front door and acts as their guide, navigating the otherwise labyrinth like hallways towards the ballroom.

Finally they came upon a towering gilded door, the soft sound of classical music coming from behind it.

“Here you are, sir and madame. Please enjoy your evening.” The steward said with a low bow.

“Thank you for the assistance.” Y/N replied, giving him a gracious smile.

Harry reached a hand towards the door and push it open, the door swung easily despite how heavy it looks.

The grand ballroom is crawling with revelers wearing suits and dresses in all shades of colors. A live orchestra is playing on the very center of the room, buzz of chatter and laughter can be heard from every corner.

“Wow... they sure spared no expense.” Y/N said breathlessly.

“That is an understatement.” Harry replied, voicing his agreement.

Feeling like a fish out of water, Y/N grimaced, “What are we supposed to do while in here again?”

“Beats me, *Y/N/N. I guess we can just go straight for the food and drinks?” He said as he shoved both hands in his trouser’s pockets.

“Brilliant idea, I’m way too sober for this.”

So that’s where the two of them stayed for some duration of the ball, in the back of the room near the refreshment tables. Gobbling down their shares of grilled oysters, lobster toasts, caviar, and champagne. Minding their own business away from prying eyes.

They were in the middle of a rather interesting chat about some gentleman in a hilarious looking lemon colored suit, when they were interrupted.

“Mr. Potter and Miss Y/L/N.... what a delight it is to have you here, I’m honored that the both of you decided to accept our invitations.” Lucius Malfoy said coldly, Narcissa Malfoy in tow.

They donned themselves in all black suit and dress, looking regal yet very much intimidating as always. Regardless, Y/N can feel that something is off about them, the air of haughtiness that they used to carry themselves with now seems rather.... faux. In fact if she might say so herself, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy looked rather timorous and on guard.

“Thank you for the invitation, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.” Y/N answered in a noncommittal tone, masking her face into one of civility. “I really enjoyed the food, it was exquisite.”

“What she said.” Harry spoke, giving them a slight nod. Y/N had to resist the urge to smile at her friend’s behavior.

Narcissa smiled, “I’m glad you think so, I arranged it all myself. Have you had the chance to dance? We hired the orchestra all the way from Vienna.”

“No we haven’t yet, we were too busy munching the hors d'oeuvres.” Harry replied with a polite smile. After all he kinda owed his life to her.

Narcissa nodded understandingly, “Please do take yourselves for a dance or two if you’re up for it, the guests are eager to catch a glimpse of our celebrated war heroines.”

She then turned her eyes towards Y/N, “And of course it would be a waste of such beautiful dress if you stay in the shadow, Miss Y/L/N. You are a vision in red.”

Before any of them could answer again, Lucius Malfoy tugged his wife away and they continued on their rounds, playing the perfect hostess.

A rather upbeat sonata started playing, sending flocks of excited people gravitating towards the dance floor. Even Harry bobbed his head and tapped his feet along to the tune.

“Wanna go for a dance? This one seems fun.” Y/N asked, offering him an outstreched hand.

“I would love to my lady, be my guest.” Harry take hold of her hand and lead her to an empty spot on the dance floor.

Despite them not knowing what kind of dance they’re supposed to do since this tune is not exactly for ballroom dancing, they decided to just roll with it and made up the moves as they go. Swaying and taking turns in twirling each other. Laughter bubbling in her throat, feeling much more relaxed than before.

The couples around them seemed to be doing the same, no one moves in sync, but still they all managed to make quite the crowd.

“Switch it up, ladies and gentleman! Partner up with someone else.” Someone from the orchestra spoke.

Harry and Y/N look towards one another, “Would anyone even notice if we just stay together for the rest of the dance?” He asked.

“With the state that we’re all in right now? Doubt it.” Y/N said as she made no move to look for another dance partner.

Someone tapped Harry on his right shoulder, “May I cut in?” A smooth voice said, making the both of them stop and turn to see the intruder.

Draco Malfoy stood in all his glory, looking sinfully handsome in his black suit and crisp white shirt. Not a single hair out of place. A far cry from how he looked when Y/N last saw him in the trial chamber.

“Beg your pardon? What exactly are you trying to do, Malfoy?” Harry said defensively, putting a hand on her lower back as he tugged her closer to him. The motion didn’t go unnoticed, something flashed briefly in Draco’s eyes before he maintained his cool.

“I was just asking Y/L/N to dance with me, didn’t you hear that we are supposed to find a new partner?” Draco fired back aloofly.

“What is your game here? You could have just asked one of your friends like Parkinson or Greengrass over there, they too are short of partners.” Harry continued.

“Well I found myself rather fancying for Y/L/N’s company, it’s not as if she’s your girlfriend, Potter. She is allowed to dance with whomever she likes.” Draco retorted, not backing down. In fact he is fuelling the fire.

“See that’s the thing! How could you even think that Y/N would like to dance with you of all people?” Harry said with a scoff. “Right, *Y/N/N?”

Y/N noticed that they’re starting to create a commotion and some closest to them have even stopped dancing to watch what exactly is going on.

Not wanting to have a fight on hand, she cleared her throat, “It’s okay, Harry. Just one dance, people are starting to look, leave it be.”

Harry still looked unconvinced but she gave him a reassuring nod, then he nods back. “I’ll be around if you need anything.”

Y/N refocused her attention towards Draco, “Let’s dance then if you so insist.”

Draco throw her a charming grin that would’ve knocked other girls from their feet, but not her. “Indulge me, Y/L/N. I have been waiting to dance with you for hours.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Have it your way, Malfoy. Let’s make it clear that I’m only saying yes because I don’t want to cause a scene at your parents’s party.” But still she accepted his outstretched hand and let him pulls them closer together.

———————————————————————

Draco Malfoy turned out to be an excellent dance partner, not that it surprised her, his parents probably made him took ballroom dancing classes the moment that he could walk. Purebloods and their propriety, it’s rather old fashioned really.

“This feels rather nice, doesn’t it?” Draco said, breaking the silence between them.

As much as she wants to deny that, there’s something about being this close to him as his arms wrap around her that feels just... right.

“Only because you’re being a decent human being for once, Malfoy.” Y/N replied nonchalantly.

“That has some truth in it, I do apologize for all the times when I’ve been an arse to you and your friends.”

Y/N sniggered, “Draco Malfoy can actually apologize, huh? What has the world come to. Your poor pride must be in shambles now.”

Instead of throwing back a remark, she’s surprise to see him giving her an earnest smile. “I found that when it comes to you, Y/L/N.. I tend to forget all my principles.”

“Is this your attempt at being charming?” She said teasingly.

“That depends, is it working?” He asked with a curious tilt to his head.

“Perhaps.” She answered smoothly.

“Perhaps.” He echoed back.

They were silent for a moment as the dance demanded for a twirl, carefully spinning her around and ensuring he’s not stepping down on her dress.

“The decoration is magnificent, it kind off reminds me of the Yule Ball.” Y/N said, stirring them into another conversation.

Draco almost froze in his tracks and cautiously approached the subject, “What do you remember about it?”

Y/N gave him a weird look as in, “Do you think I got too drunk back then that I didn’t remember a thing?” but decided to comply.

“I went with Oliver Wood and I wore a jade colored dress, definitely a good night for me.” She said as she smiles at the memory that resurfaces. “Your date was Pansy Parkinson right?”

“Yes... but I didn’t exactly dance the night away with her.” He said quietly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow his way, “Oh? What happened?”

She can see the look of hesitation on his face and in the way that his mouth keeps on opening and closing as if weighing the words that’s on the tip of his tongue carefully. “I was with you.. that night I ditched her to accompany you instead.”

Y/N jaw dropped open, “How hilarious, Malfoy.”

“No, Y/N. I’m being serious.” And the look on his face tells her enough that he is indeed not joking, that it compelled her to shut her mouth.

“Wood left you to talk with a quidditch scout who also attended the Yule Ball. Probably lost track of time while trying to butter that person up.”

Y/N felt her head getting heavier and a migraine starting to throb her skull. “I don’t remember any of that.... you’re lying. I was with him the whole night and we even walked back together to the common room.”

“Y/N/N...” Draco whispered out her nickname, “It was me who walked you back.”

She broke away from him, earning a few curious glances from the surrounding couples.

“I’m sorry but you must excuse me.” She said, not even bothering to look up at him as she left in a hurry.

No matter how big this ballroom is, she still feels suffocated.

———————————————————————

Y/N escaped the confines of the ballroom and wander aimlessly, not even paying attention to where she’s headed. Her whole body feels feverish. She just knows that she needs to find some fresh air to breathe in.

With some luck she founds herself in front of a glass door that leads to a small balcony. She muttered a silent prayer and let out a relieved sigh as the door swung open.

She closed her eyes, deeply breathing in and out in a controlled motion to calm her erratic heart. What was it about his words that bothered her so? For Godric’s sake this is Malfoy that we’re talking about! He loves twisting other people’s mind.

Y/N slumped against the railing, settling her burning cheek on the cold granite. She probably looks real pathetic if anyone happen to pass by.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed since then, but her body tensed at the sound of the balcony door behind her opening. A soft pitter patter of steps slowly making its way to her.

“You really should come with a warning label or an instruction manual, Y/N.” Draco Malfoy’s voice broke the silent night. Even the noises from the party doesn’t reach this part of the manor.

“That’s rich coming from you, Malfoy. Honestly why do you constantly feel the need to be soo bloody annoying.” She shot back weekly.

“Is it okay if I join you?” He asked.

“A bit late for asking don’t you think? But please don’t mind me, it’s your house after all and I’m just a guest.” She answered, gesturing with her hand for him to come and stand beside her.

“What was that back inside, Malfoy?” Y/N internally chastised herself for the tremble in her voice.

“There is something that you have to know, Y/N. Something about us.” He replied just as quietly.

“I—I don’t get it, there was never an ‘us’ so what are you talking about?” Her hands started shaking again but she forced it into a fist to steady herself. It takes an awful lot of effort for her to believe her own words because somehow, she knows that there is something more to this situation and she’s about to find out.

“I have to do something first but I need you to trust me, can you do that?” He asked.

Despite her common sense that is screaming at her to just turn around and get as far away as she can from there, her body betrayed her and she founds herself nodding.

Her eyes followed his every movement as she watches Draco slowly pulls out his wand from the inner pocket of his suit. He lift both hands up, his wand still tightly clutched in his right hand, but he’s trying to convey that he means her no harm.

“Ready?” He asked, once again asking for her permission.

“Ready.” She replied while steeling herself for whatever is about to come.

And then she felt as if her body is flung into another dimension.

White erupts all around her, scenes flashing by soo fast. Faces.... soo many faces. She almost drop to her knees, most likely from motion sickness, but then it all stopped.

And then she sees it. Her memories of Draco. Him stealing her for a dance in the Yule Ball when she thought she would spend the rest of the night sulking in some abandoned corridor after Oliver left her. Draco who insisted on being her partner in Potions and kicking Seamus out of his seat beside her, saying that it’s for her own good unless she wants to risk being exposed to frequent explosion. Draco who discreetly lended her his sweater when he saw her shivering during Care for Magical Creatures class. Draco who erased himself out of her memories and out of her life.

Y/N gasped in pain, feeling as if she just got stabbed over and over again as the hurt comes rolling in waves.

“YOU HAD NO RIGHT, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY!!!” She screamed in agony, throwing herself his way, pinning him to the ground as she shakes him by his shoulders.

Tears blurred her vision as her body shook with violent sobs. She felt broken in soo many ways that she has to fight hard just to anchor herself at the thread of reality.

“I’m so sorry, love. I’m soo fucking sorry.” She felt him crying too beneath her.

He tug at her arms, silently asking for permission to pull her into his arms. Having no fight left in her, she allowed herself this sliver of comfort. Although in this very moment, she wants nothing more than to hurt him as bad as he had hurt her.

“Why, Draco? How could you do that to me? To us?” Y/N asked, barely above a whisper. Her voice sounds soo devastated, it pains him to no end to see her this way.

“I had no other choice, Y/N/N. I can’t let Voldemort use you against me, I can’t put you in danger just because I’d love nothing more than to have you by my side forever. Believe me, love. I did it all for you.” He croaked.

“I just don’t get it.... how could someone care for another and still take so much from them?”

“But it saved you a great deal of trouble! Like back at my trial when they asked you whether or not we were involved. Had I not taken your memories away, you wouldn’t be able to lie your way out under the veritaserum.” Draco retorted, clearly frustrated.

“Still, Draco..... Believe me if our situation were reversed, you’d be as angry as I am. Having your memories taken away from you like that is horrifying, I feel soo violated.”

Slowly she untangled himself from him and sits up, despite everything that has happened, she could still feel her heart reaching out for him. It still craves him and she doesn’t think that there would ever come a time when it won’t.

Draco followed her lead and sat himself, leaning his body against the railing. “I’m so sorry for all the pain that I’ve caused you, for all the pain that I’m still causing.”

Y/N stares at his face, the person that she once loved with all her being. “I don’t know what to say, Draco... I don’t even know if we can go back to how we were before all this.”

She watched as his face fell but there’s understanding in his eyes, “I know, starlight. I just want you to be happy.”

Y/N stood and clean the invisible dust from her dress, not that it makes it appear better, the skirt is all rumpled now.

“I... have to go. Thank you for the invitation.” She said, putting on a mask of cool indifference even though under all that, a violent storm is tearing at her very soul, but she has to be strong, for herself.

“Thank you for coming... Be safe, Y/N.” He replied meekly, but he managed to give her a small smile.

Y/N nodded and just like that history is repeating itself, but this time it’s her turn to walk away from him.

———————————————————————

Y/N made her way back to the ballroom, her eyes frantically scanning the room for Harry.

She saw him standing at the other side of the room and she walked briskly towards him.

Harry immediately noticed that something’s off, “Are you okay, Y/N/N? Do I need to fight anyone?”

Y/N smiled at her bestfriend, “That would be one hell of an entertainment to see but not tonight, buddy. Can we leave now?”

“Absolutely.” He said as he offered her his arm and they walked together towards the exit.

Turned out that it is actually quite late and some people have decided to call it a day too thus why Lucius and Narcissa are standing near the door to say their farewell to the returning guests.

When it is Harry and Y/N’s turn, Narcissa suddenly laid a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “May I have a moment, dear?”

“Of course, Mrs. Malfoy.”

———————————————————————

Narcissa leads her to a parlor room not too far from there and offer her a seat at one of the plush settee.

“I would like to apologize for every wrong that I and my family have done to you, Miss Y/L/N. Our list of misdeeds are long and unforgiveable but all of us are paying for our sins. I wish you nothing but all the best that life could offer and Merlin knows how much you and your friends deserve it.” She said in a soft voice, shame painted her face.

“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. I couldn’t speak for all of them but I know that me and Harry share the same sentiment especially towards you. I’d also like to thank you for sparing Harry’s life back then, if it weren’t for you, we would never be here.” Y/N replied, giving her a warm smile.

“You’re too kind, dear. We deserve far less than that but still I thank you for your clemency, but I’m afraid there is something else that I would like to talk to you about.”

“What about?”

“My son.” Narcissa said.

Y/N unconsciously gripped the edge of the settee as her thought floated back to the moment at the balcony.

“You know?” Y/N asked.

“You’ll find that rarely anything ever escaped a mother’s eye, Y/N.” Narcissa answered, “I know that what he did is wrong and it is yours to decide whether or not you will let him in your life again, but there is something that I’d like to give to you first.”

Narcissa walked towards a drawer and pull something out, a parchment.

“Draco wrote this sometime ago, it is for you.”

Y/N took the letter with shaky hands, “Why are you giving me this?”

“Draco might be a very difficult person, Y/N, but if there is one thing that I know for sure is the fact that my boy is completely in love with you.” Narcissa said as she smiles her way, “And I believe that he has chosen the right woman to anchored his heart to, you are a formidable force, dear. And I admire you for that.”

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

A/N : WHEW okay I think this was rather intense, what do you think?

Taglist : @chaoticgirl04 @accioxdracox @randomsingingkoala @ivarlothbroks @sycathorn-slush @thescarletknight2014 @irritantive @vaeonshi

#draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy drabble #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy oneshots #draco malfoy prompt #draco malfoy smut #harry potter imagine #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fluff #harry potter drabble #harry potter angst #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshots

[the-starryknight]

Someone to Notice Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood | Rated: T | Length: 1.4k

A fluffy little birthday gift for the phenomenal @skeptiquewrites, who's an incredible author and a stalwart cheerleader for rarepairs. Two of my favorites of Tee's fics are She Was Pretty (Lav/Pav), which is one of my all-time favorite non-Drarry fics and a gorgeous read of Lavender Brown post-war, and Nothing Left to Burn, Tee's brand new Wireless fic, fresh and full of Montreal life. She's also absolutely brilliant at microfics, so dig into her tag here too!

It shouldn't be such a big deal, introducing Oliver to Percy's family. Only it is a big deal, because Oliver matters a lot and Percy wants it to go well.

Percy Weasley’s tiny first-floor bedroom was precisely as it had been when he left it behind at seventeen, or so Percy claimed. Oliver had never seen it before.

Oliver lounged on the small single bed, on top of the knit blanket and the thin, well-used pillows. He’d changed into striped socks and pajama bottoms and a too-small jumper, pilfered from the perfectly organized drawers.

But Oliver couldn’t take his eyes off Percy even if he wanted to be nosy about the room.

Percy was pacing back and forth, wearing pressed trousers and a buttoned shirt, hair still shiny with product. Oliver wanted to sink his hands into it and muss it up, but that wouldn’t end well for either of them if he did it yet. So he waited. It’d take at least three more room lengths before Percy started talking again.

He was near the desk in the corner at the end of his second circuit when he turned around suddenly. “It went well,” Percy said, as though it were the most ludicrous conclusion.

“Reckon it did, yeah,” answered Oliver, running his fingers over a pull in the blanket.

“I wasn’t prepared for that possibility.”

Oliver laughed brightly, and pushed himself up to sit on the end of the bed. “I know.”

Percy hesitated, as straight-backed as the dozen sharpened quills waiting at attention in the cupholder on the desk. “You’re laughing at me. You think I’m ridiculous for being worried.”

“Never,” Oliver gulped, though he couldn’t contain the smile.

“You think I got myself so worked up over this dinner, and of course it went well, and I’m—”

“You were nervous.” Oliver pushed off the bed, crowding carefully into his space. There was enough room between them still that if Percy needed to pick up his pacing again, Oliver wouldn’t be in the way. But if — if — he wanted, he could step closer and fold himself into Oliver’s arms. “I was nervous too, when you met my da wasn’t I? And that was just one parent at a time.”

“It’s not that I thought they’d be weird about the gay thing,” Percy huffed, fixing his glasses with one hand and fidgeting with the other. He always did that when he was nervous or trying to sort something out, like seeing better would help him understand. “Charlie’s, well, that’s always been obvious, and even if Mum had a hard go with Harry’s reveal, it was never about him being queer.”

“Did you think they’d be weird about me?” teased Oliver, reaching with one cautious hand. Percy didn’t shy away, so he brushed his fingertips over the back of Percy’s hand. “You are sleeping with the enemy, after all. I beat your sister fair and square on the pitch, and I’m not going to start going easy on the Harpies just for you, family or no.”

Percy smiled at that, in the corners of his eyes and the twitch of his mouth. “Can’t exactly throw the games for you or for her, can I?”

“You could.” Oliver pressed closer, daring his luck. “Oh, Minister for Magical Games and Sports Regulation, won’t you engage in a little quid pro quo?”

“For Gin, I might,” he said, but took Oliver’s hand anyway. He teased, “Don’t know if I could swing it for you.”

Oliver gasped. “You’ll put me through dinner with every single Weasley and still not break the rules for Puddlemere?”

“As if you’d let me break the rules for you,” Percy said. He stepped forward into Oliver’s arms, and let Oliver hug him.

Percy was a little taller, and a little more lithe, but his body fit against Oliver’s perfectly, Oliver’s nose in his shoulder and his hands along his back, pulling him close. He smelled like Molly’s cooking, like onions and spices and another, older sort of home. His apartment always smelled clean, like fresh-folded laundry and a new bottle of ink.

“I wouldn’t, yeah,” Oliver answered, muffled in Percy’s starched shirt. “If we can’t win on our skill—”

“You shouldn’t win at all,” finished Percy.

Oliver flushed, glad they were standing too close for Percy to catch his embarrassment. Had he said the little phrase so often? Or was Percy paying attention too?

Percy pressed a kiss to Oliver’s forehead and stepped back to lounge against the desk. “You think it went well?” he asked, too casual, though Oliver knew the nerves underneath.

“Definitely,” he said. “They loved me, but are you surprised?”

“I mean it.”

“It went really well.”

Percy met his eyes.

At dinner, Percy had sat between George and Ginny, picking at his potatoes and adjusting his glasses, toes tapping Oliver’s under the table. His worry was subtle; no one at the table had noticed, pouring Oliver more wine and laughing at a joke Arthur had told. This dinner was a big deal for Percy, and yet not one of them seemed aware, teasing Oliver like he was already a member of the family. There was no grand reveal, no he’s Percy’s, don’t you see?, no coming out, or proclamations of welcome. It was as though Oliver’s sudden presence at Percy’s side was no more unusual than the gnomes in the garden.

It wasn't insensitivity, Oliver thought. Each of them had decided Percy was fine. Percy had it together, and Percy didn’t need reassurance. It was all true: Percy was confident and together, wise beyond his years and too competent for his own good. It was easy to stop there, and his siblings never learned to notice when Percy’s words got a bit faster — not because he was excited, but because he was afraid of being cut off — or how he paced when he was trying to work through something difficult.

Oliver grabbed him, hands on Percy’s chest, against the ridiculous collared shirt, and brought him close, nose knocking against Percy’s glasses. He kissed Percy like he noticed him: every bit all at once.

“Oh,” Percy said, breathless when Oliver let him go.

“You were very brave,” said Oliver, kissing him one more time.

“You don’t think I’m ridiculous?”

“Completely batshit. But not about dinner.”

Percy frowned at him.

“Turn around,” he said, pushing Percy’s elbow, and Percy went. “Do you see that?” Oliver pointed to the bookshelf beside the desk. “You made a call number system for your personal library. Bet you’ve even got it all written down and everything. You’re completely ridiculous.”

“I don’t have it written down,” murmured Percy.

“No?”

“...It’s an automatic charm, it records when a book’s gone out. No parchment needed.”

Oliver started to laugh, joy bubbling from his chest, smiling so hard his teeth hurt. Percy started laughing too, and then they were holding hands and laughing at the bookshelf, and standing in the tiny bedroom with only one window. They laughed until they couldn’t breathe, and then they breathed and Oliver held his hand and figured that they were probably going to be alright.

“They’ll hear,” Percy gasped, rubbing his eyes, biting his lip to stop from laughing.

“Not a thing,” Oliver grinned. “George-proof silencing charm. Cast it somewhere around your fourth lap around the room.”

“Just when did you research a George-proof silencing charm?” Percy put a hand on his shoulder, subtle confidence returning to his gaze. Oliver shivered, leaning into the touch.

“I’d like to say it was for something hot,” Oliver said. Percy stepped closer to him, his other hand drifting down the front of Oliver’s too-hot, too-thick jumper.

“But?”

“I thought you might worry about,” Oliver hesitated as Percy leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, to just below his ear. “Er— worry about dinner,” he finished quickly.

“I was worried,” Percy said. He stepped forward, pushing Oliver back towards the bed. It was so tiny, but they could both fit if they lay close. “But it went well.”

“Right.” Oliver sat down hard on the bottom of the bed. Percy tugged off his jumper, and ran possessive fingers down his shoulders, down his back. “I know how important your family is to you.”

“You’re important to me too.” Percy bent down to kiss him. “I’m glad I’ve got you.”

So Oliver, of course, pulled him down onto the bed with him and unbuttoned his stupid starched shirt and lay as close as he could. Percy took off his glasses, slipping them up onto the nightstand. He kissed Oliver again, and again, till they were both pink-cheeked and Oliver was smiling so hard it hurt. It was silly, kissing like this, in the tiny bedroom with all Percy’s family sleeping nearby, but maybe that was how it was supposed to be: ridiculous. Easy.

Later, Oliver said it again, in case he’d forgotten: “It went well,” like that, quiet and whispered across the threadbare pillow with only the moon outside the window watching.

#perciver #starry writes #harry potter #perciver fic #percy weasley x oliver wood

[thebadboyfanclub]

I Got You (Napoleon x Reader)

This is the third time i’m trying to post this fucking thing, tumblr won’t let the posts I do from my laptop under search results but they will show posts I do from my phone. Anyways, enjoy!

“This better be worth it Waverly”

“Ohhh (y/n) dear trust me it will. Let me introduce you to your new colleagues”

As she walked in the room with one big desk and a few chairs, three of them were occupied by two men and one woman, probably in her 20s. Her eyes however focused on one particular man.... The man that was one of the reasons you thrived in the illegal field.

“This is Miss Gaby Teller, the most important person in this case, next to her is mister Illya  Kuryakin, her supposed fiance and-”

“Napoleon Solo. The thief”

She bitterly interrupted Waverly, he was of course aware of (y/n)’s past with Napoleon, it was one of the reasons he requested her to join this case, keeping from her that piece of information of course. 

“(y/f/n), you’ve grown up”

“you got old”

“Right, now that everyone knows each other, (y/n) please take a seat and i’ll explain the plan”

As she took a seat from the other side of the table, directly in front of Napoleon, she tried to focus on Waverly and ignore Napoleons intense stare that almost drilled a hole on the side of her head.

“Ok, so since Illya is here to be the love interest for Gaby and Napoleon is here to just get some Italian legs in the air, what am I here for?”

“You dear (y/l/n), you will be portraying miss Brigitte Richard, an heir to the Richard well know Cigar, he is a close friend of mine and graciously agreed to take his daughters name”

“Won’t they know what his daughter looks like?”

“His daughter has been kept away from the public eye and she had transferred in Britain during high school, that’s also where she went to College and recently decided to stay there. I will give you a file of hers to study. Your goal is to get close to Victoria vinciguerra during the event, maybe even seem interested in mister Solo, of course for show, nothing more”

“Of course, everything is only just for show when it has to do with Napoleon”

-

(Y/n) was dressed in her best attire, her long red dress that hugged her waist so beautifully, of course some silver diamond earrings on her ears and her hair up in a perfect updo, her heels were comfortable at least, but if she had to run the dress would not hold for long until it gives a show to anyone around her, she prays that it didn’t have to happen, or she would be royally screwed,

“Miss Richard , your father was right you do have your mothers eyes”

What a fool, she thought, this is who she was hiding from? a woman that complimented her for the resemblance in her eyes.... she wasn’t even close to being related to this people. However, on the outside, she smiled brightly at the tall blonde lady

“Thank you so much, god rest her soul she at least she was generous enough to pass them down to me, my dads brown eyes are great but a tad bit boring don’t you think?”

The blonde gave a tight lip smile to her comment. Of course, if she knew that her real parent had never seen this type of luxury, the lady wouldn’t even spare a glance.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Victoria Vinciguerra”

“Brigitte Richard, my father made sure to keep me away from all of... this, he wanted his kids to be humble”

“I’m really sorry for your brother”

“It’s alright, I miss him but... c’est la vie”

(Y/n) had almost swallowed the file Waverly had given her, she even looked into the cigar company, just in case anyone asked questions. As the two ladies kept talking, she started hearing commotion,she turned her head  towards the direction it was coming from and saw one familiar man falling to the ground.

“What is going on over there?”

“Excuse me dear”

Victoria started walking towards him and of course (y/n) followed. When they finally reached the crowd that was already forming a circle around him, there he was fanning himself the invitation dramatically, in true Napoleon fashion. (Y/n) kissed her teeth in annoyance, he was supposed to discreetly blend in, not cause a god damn ruckus the minute he walks in.

“Thank you, Thank you”

“I wonder what they do to people without invitations”

That is when she decided to take actions. She weaseled her way out of the crowd and kneeled in front of him to his level, offering her glass of champagne to him.

“Are you alright sir?”

“Yes, thank you very much Darling”

“I’m Victoria Vinciguerra, she is (y/f/n). I do believe an apology is in order. I’ll take it from here”

You helped him get up on his feet and took two steps to lean in and talked to her.

“of course miss Vinciguerra... next one is mine”

She giggled as she walked away in triumphant. To be frank the rest of your job was to keep an eye on these two, yet she could still say she completed the most important part.What she didn’t expect was the growing fire in the pit of her stomach that was directed to Victoria, looking at her talking to Napoleon so nonchalantly made her teeth hurt and her breasts ached with rage.

“It’s such a lovely day to be so pouty miss”

“Well sir... there is nothing really here for me to smile about”

“Not even me?”

“I think I am better off being the reason for someone to smile”

“Roberto  Russo, charmed”

“Brigitte Richard”

Roberto was a handsome man, tall, light brown hair, hazel eyes, sharp jawline, full lips and extremely well dressed, no doubt he knew his way around women and money. What a better distraction and cover up than him?

What (y/n) had not calculated was Napoleon picking up at her “strategic” flirt and filling like punching the hell out of this pretentious little Italian boy that grew up spending daddy’s money. He restrained himself from walking over to her and taking her hand, guiding her away from everyone, keeping her all to herself.

“I saw you were talking to my aunt”

“Oh you are related to Victoria?”

“Yes, my dad is her brother. I actually haven’t spoken to her today, come with me?”

“How could I ever refuse?”

As he offered his arm she smiled and linked hers with his, walking over with her head held high as they got close to Napoleon and Victoria

“My dearest Roberto, how are you?”

she kissed her nephew at both of his cheeks and yet no smile was shown. She really was cold, Roberto however smiled brightly, feeling excited to show his knew “catch” to his aunt.

“I’m doing well... who might he be?”

“Jack Devinsky, Nice to meet you”

Roberto looked at Napoleon up and down, almost well not almost... judging him harshly. Napoleons sure looked rich but there were levels to how rich you were, especially when men judged one another.

“Roberto Russo. Well... aunt Victoria may I occupy you for a minute”

“Of course, anything for my nephew”

“It will only take a minute dear”

“I am counting”

She replied at him, he took her hand and placed a gentle kiss as he stared directly in her eyes, winking at her as she left her with Napoleon. They stood there in awkward silence for a few moments, they haven’t really spoken since the case started, (y/n) made sure to avoid him.

“You look stunning if that isn’t obvious”

“Thanks”

She said dryly. She barely even looked him in the eye, all she could see was that damn night, the night she lost everything, the night her heart shuttered, the night he showed her all the cruelty of the world he always talked about.

“You are mad at me”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, it still upsets me though”

“That sounds like a personal issue to me”

-

The event was a success. which meant (y/n) could finally relax and wear her pajamas, pour a drink for herself and lounge in the couch her room had. She still wore his necklace, the gold star necklace he had bought her way back when... she took the charm in her hands and felt the cold metal.

How much more could she take with him around? it took her so much time to heal and now here he was again, scratching the wounds she had closed up all by herself. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a knock at her door. She got up to answer it and was met with the man of the hour.

“Napoleon”

“May I come in?”

She sighed before stepping aside to let him in. Even when all she wanted was to punch him in the face, her heart took over her and let him walk into her room and her life once again, even when she had swore to take revenge when she saw him again.

“What do you want?”

“To talk”

“About what?”

She was well aware she was snapping at him, could you blame her? He had swore to protect her, help her when she had nothing and no one, taught her everything and then one night she came home to find all his belongings missing... and that damn letter tore her apart, she didn’t sleep for days, she waited for him to return for months and yet he never did.

“(Y/n) I know-”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING

”her voice booming through the entire room, it was like a glass of emotions was overflowing, threating to spill and make a mess. He saw the pain in her face, her lower lips trembling, her hands forming fists... still what caught his eye was one thing, the necklace. She was wearing his necklace, after all these years she didn’t throw it away. He took a breath through his nose before continuing.

“(y/n) you have every right to be upset-”

“Damn right I do”

“Will you just listen?”

“listen to what Napoleon?! What?!What?!What?!”

Next thing that was heard was her glass smashing at the wall, Vodka dripping down and small pieces of glass going everywhere. Napoleon was shocked, he should have known this wouldn’t be easy, he had wanted to reach out to her over the years, he had even went through with finding her, yet every time he chickened out last minute and walked away from it. Now, here she was in pain, yelling and smashing things... she had become his enemy

“I’m sorry”

“You are sorry? Sorry? for what Napoleon? for leaving me? for doing it in such cruel way? for lying to me?”

“I never lied”

“You swore to me that you loved me, that you... cared”

There it was, tears. She couldn’t even control it, as her voice cracked and the waterfalls started, she didn’t also want to cover them, she wanted him to see what he had done... to hell with being the bigger person. He wanted to hug her, comfort her, make her feel loved but now all he could do was to try and reason with her.

“I had to leave”

“Why? What could possibly be the reason... money? paintings? women?”

“You know I would never cheat on you”

“Oh yeah, cause leaving our house in the middle of the night is so much better”

She tried wipe away her tears, silence falling between them once again. As a way to calm and hide her emotions, she kneeled and started picking up pieces of glass, her back turned to him. Napoleon went to her side and even when he wanted to pick her up and kiss her, he controlled his desire

“(Y/n) stop, you’ll cut yourself”

“I’m fine Napoleon”

“(Y/n) the maid can do it”

“I said I’m- FUCK”

a piece of sharp glass had cut her as she accidentally gripped it a bit too hard. Napoleon saw the blood and got up immediately to find some tissues, while (y/n) got on her feet and brought her hand close to her chest, closing it to a fist as a way to stop the pain. When Napoleon approached she turned her back once again

 “I said I’m fine”

“(Y/n) you are bleeding, let me care for you”

She had started crying again. As she turned around and opened her hand to him Napoleon gently placed the tissues on the wound, dabbing away the blood carefully.

“Why did you leave?”

“I thought I was protecting you, a way to keep you away from all of the things I was doing”

“Yet... here we are”

He looked up at her. Her lower lip was in between her teeth, tears freshly running down, her beautiful eyes were now red and puffy, her nose was running and he still found her heavenly.

“You kept the necklace”

“I tried throwing it away, or ponding it... I couldn’t find the courage... it’s too pretty”

“I tried coming back to you... multiple times”

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t”

She finally kept eye contact with him, getting lost once again in those ocean blue eyes, the eyes she looked at when they were laying naked on their bed, the eyes that looked at her when she woke up. With his one hand Napoleon slowly reached over and wiped a few tears with his thumb

“You are too pretty to cry over me”

“I missed you Napoleon”

She whispered looking down on the ground in embarrassment. She was everything he ever wanted, a woman that loved him and had his back and he tossed that all away, his intentions were pure yet the damage was gigantic. He hesitated for a minute, before taking her in his arms for a hug, her head nuzzling on his neck as she held on to him for the first time in what felt like centuries. Napoleon kissed her head, smelling her shampoo that was always the same, lavender.

“I missed you too munchkin”

She giggled at the nickname. Napoleon had met her when she was struggling to survive, she was this delicate little thing that looked everyone with kind eyes, yet once he got to know her he saw the passion, the fire, the potential she had to become something great, he didn’t want all that potential to go on illegal things that could possibly get her in jail or worse kill her. So from the beginning of the relationship he called her munchkin.

“Will we be alright?”

“I got you munchkin, I got you”

#napoleon solo imagine #henry cavill imagine #napoleon solo x reader #henry cavill x reader #napoleon solo oneshot #henry cavill oneshot #napoleon solo x you #henry cavill x you #napoleon solo headcanon #henry cavill headcanon #the man from u.n.c.l.e headcanon #the man from u.n.c.l.e oneshot #the man from u.n.c.l.e imagine #geralt imagine #sherlock holmes imagine #the man from u.n.c.l.e. #the witcher imagine #henry cavill #napoleon solo #the witcher #enola holmes #sherlock holmes

[isolemnlyswear]

hello! can i request a modern marauder (you pick) x popstar!fem!reader (while they're still in hogwarts) to the song breathin by ariana grande as if it were the reader's song? <3 <3

breathin

a/n : this is the most specified request i've ever gotten, so it's kinda shitty ! i really have never wrote anything like this - at all - and i didn’t know if the reader was meant to be a muggle or not ????????? so i made them not one. bc you’re anon i cant ask you questions abt your request, so next time please specify!

continued a/n : wow, this is interesting. i dont like it, but !!! hope u enjoy????

warnings : swearing, bad writing

taglist : @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @faeinorbit @tomriddleswifey @inks-and-jinx @jxsperhxle @punkrific @the-gazette-of-tea @krasivayadarling @orifortheweeknd @fallin-4-ya @incxndio @daisyyy2516 @hoe4cedricdiggory @vsawyer1989

Remus sighed, glaring at the raven-haired boy beside him.

“What, s’gonna be fun!” Sirius grins, and the lycanthrope who’s refuting him simply laughs.

“Fun? Your idea of fun is a packed concert - full of muggles, nonetheless - for this...popstar woman?” Remus says incredulously, and Sirius raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, ho, ho, this is not any popstar, Moony. Plus, what else are we gonna do over the summer? Sulk around at your parents’ house?” Sirius grins again, and Remus lets out a sigh.

“The latter I can agree with. But who is this girl, anyway?” Remus inquires, and Sirius reaches into his back pocket to acquire his phone. Although Hogwarts doesn't allow modern technology, both Sirius and Remus have their own each for the summers. With how phone-centered the modern world is, they couldn't not.

He swipes through to find a picture of you - one obtained from your Instagram, which has over four million followers - and holds it up to Remus.

“Merlin,” he breathes, eyes scanning the image.

You're wearing a brown leather dress, the shoulders poking up just barely. Your hair is framing your face, legs tucked under you in a half-crouch, and you're looking into the camera with lips perfectly parted. It was one you took for the shoot of your newest album, and a particular favorite of yours.

“Gorgeous, right? She’s really talented, as well.” Sirius grins, looking at his best friend, who is unresponsive, with eyes glued on the screen. “Moony?” he waves a hand over the brunette’s face, who snaps out of his trance.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure.” Remus says, blinking a few too many times.

“So, you up for it now?”

“Alright,” Remus replies, nodding at Sirius, who pumps his fists into the air with a grin.

“She's American, but doing a show in London in a few weeks,” Sirius informs, smiling.

“American, huh? How old is she?” Remus asks, settling back into the couch they're perched on.

“That's the best part. She's our age - just turned eighteen.” Sirius grins again, putting his phone away.

“Oh yeah? You say that like she'd notice us. Never gonna happen, Pads.” Remus smiles, shaking his head.

“Expect the unexpected, mon amie.”

---

You're fiddling anxiously with your fingers, hands out of use as someone else is doing your makeup, rather than yourself.

“Almost done, Miss L/N,” Madelyn, your makeup artist, says, brushing a soft highlighter over your cheekbones.

“Mads, I told you that you can call me Y/N. You only do my makeup every day,” you say, closing your eyes as the woman pats highlighter into your inner corner.

“And...” she mists your face with setting spray, “...Done!”

---

About four hours later, your back is facing the crowd that's piled into the venue, stage lights shut off as only the sounds of quiet murmurs and shuffling feet hit your ears.

And then, the lights come on with a thumping click, and you begin the routine that you've practiced time and time again.

The music to your first song, the least vocally challenging of the set, begins, and you turn around with a sway of your hips.

Holding the mic to your mouth, you begin a one-step, two-step rhythm, one that's second nature to you; your eyes survey the crowd, left hand reaching to flip your hair.

The tune changes, and the beat is faster, now, as the lights begin to flash and your voice, in a habitual fashion, changes to match. You stride out rhythmically to the center of the stage.

You crouch in a fluid movement, thankful for the coverage your outfit gives you. It's a black sparkling jumpsuit, bottoms being a high-waisted, glimmering fabric with two side flaps, connected at your stomach to a matching corset-like top.

After a few minutes of usual song/dance routines, followed by cheers from the crowd, you decide it's time for a crowd interaction. It's difficult, resisting the urge to pull out your wand and cast a silencing charm to get the group's attention, but you opt for speech, instead.

"Alright, alright, everybody," you say into the mic with a laugh, eyes scanning the crowd for someone to converse with.

There's one man - his ebony hair is swishing as he speaks - who's bouncing up and down like an eager dog, and you laugh.

"We all excited to be here? In London!" you say, garnering numerous cheers and screams from the group.

"I can tell you are." You walk over to the raven-haired boy, who's in front row, and crouch down. He'd previously cheered extremely loud, confirming his excitement.

The boy makes a loud whoop'ing noise, getting a laugh from his friend.

His friend.

You continue to speak, walking over to someone else, but now your eyes are glued on him.

He looks about your age, with beautifully disheveled sandy brown hair and chocolate eyes. He has numerous scars littering his face, some new and red, some older and whitening.

You can't help but wonder what the scars are from, and you feel a strange attachment to the boy, though you've never spoken before.

And after a while, it's time for your final song. About a thirds of the way through, at your favorite part, you meander back over to the boys.

You lean over, disguising your position as a simple concert move, but you're really staring into the brunette's eyes.

"You remind me of a time when things weren't so complicated." The words fall from your mouth effortlessly, and you're able to search the boy's eyes as you sing. There's a spark in them, a glimmer of light that pulls you in.

"All I need is to see your face." You sing, still singing almost directly to the brunette.

You need to see more of him, you suddenly think. And you continue to sing the song, but all that swims around in your brain is a plan. A plan to erase the mystery behind the boy.

The show comes to a close, but before everyone has left, you pull your manager aside.

"Hey, Martin, this- this is an odd request, but could you ask these two boys to come backstage? That sounds, um, interesting, but would y'mind-"

"What do they look like?" Martin interrupts you, and you sigh in relief.

"One has longer black hair, and the other... sorta sandy brown hair, and some scars on his face. Can you find them from that?"

"I'll try."

You nod and thank him, running backstage to your small lounge and bathroom to await your mysterious visitors, changing quickly into clothes that are more comfortable; a simple silk dress, in a y/f/c hue, and a sweater to go over it.

You fiddle with your wand in your hands, mentally berating yourself.

It was quite a reckless decision, really. It's not like you had a valid reason for inviting these people to such a VIP space such as this. Just because you feel some weird connection to one of them didn't mean you could disregard everything. These boys are probably muggles, and you are not. Merlin, you're getting shipped off to Scotland next year after being home-schooled by your magical parents for eighteen years - just in time for your last year of school -going to a boarding school called Hogwarts (which would be a PR nightmare, but your parents insisted you needed some 'real-life experience').

But amidst your train of thought, you hear a knock at your door - two taps, three taps, your manager's code that it's okay to open the door - and you shove your wand into your (enlarged via Engorgio charm) pocket.

You stride over to the door, fiddling with the hem of your sweater, and open it to see Martin.

"Here they are, Miss L/N." He steps to the side to reveal the two boys, the darker-haired male standing in front, and you refrain from gasping when he steps forward, allowing you full view of the other boy.

The scars on his face are glimmering in the light, and his eyes are warm, pulling you in with every glance. His hair is perfectly tousled, and he's tall, over six foot two, or so you'd guess.

"Come in," you say, stepping aside to allow them entrance. You nod to Martin, signalling him to leave, and he does so, shutting the door and leaving you with the pair.

"Holy shit," the raven-haired boy says, and you realize he's only slightly shorter, about an inch less.

You laugh slightly, gesturing for them to sit down.

"Why are we back here?" the shorter one says, and you smile. He's made himself comfortable, seemingly the more outgoing, but the other one is still standing awkwardly beside you.

"You can relax, I'm not interrogating you," you say, smiling at the taller boy, who seems to let out a breath. "Why don't you introduce yourselves, and then we can talk, okay?"

"I'm Sirius, Sirius Black." The boy runs a hand through his dark hair, grinning.

"Ah, like the constellation? Brightest star in the sky," you say, and he nods.

"I'm, um, Remus. Remus Lupin," the other boy says tentatively, offering a smile.

"Hi, Remus," you say, nodding. "I don't want to assume you know my name, I'm aware you're not American, but considering you're at this concert-"

"Of course, we know your name, we're British, not daft," Sirius says with a playful scoff, and you laugh. "You're Y/N."

"That I am," you say with a giggle, and Remus grins. Your heart stops for a moment, the world coming to a halt as his eyes meet yours.

Sirius clears his throat, and a blush spreads onto the apples of your cheeks. You gulp, looking down.

"So, you didn't answer my question," Sirius starts, tilting his head, but Remus kicks his shin.

"Pads, chill," he whispers, shaking his head. Sirius shakes his head, looking at you.

"It's fine, really. 'M not that interesting, no need to be uptight," you say, smiling again.

"I'd beg to differ," Remus breathes.

After what feels like no time at all, but is really three hours, you've gotten any and all formalities out of the way. Well, all but one - you're still unsure if they're muggles, and they don't know that you're a witch, either.

That is, until Remus gets up to go to the restroom, and something tumbles out of his pocket.

Your first thought is how did something that long fit in a jean pocket, but then you see what it is.

It's a wand, about ten inches, cypress wood, with a small bulb at the end of it. You gasp, and Remus goes pale, stumbling to pick it up.

"Is that-" you start, but Sirius cuts you off.

"It's nothing," he says quickly, but you shake your head.

"That's a wand," you say slowly, and Remus is wide-eyed, nervously fidgeting.

"It-"

"No, no, no," you say, reaching into the pocket of your sweater and pulling out your own. Sirius and Remus simultaneously gasp as you brandish it in your hands, and you grin.

"You're a witch?" Remus asks, jaw slack.

"You're a wizard?" you return, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck yeah we are!" Sirius says, and you grin.

"What school?" Remus inquires, and you purse your lips.

"I was home-schooled, but this year - for my last one - I'm going to this school called Hogwarts? D'you know it?" you explain, garnering another gasp from the pair.

"That's where we go," Remus says, and your eyes light up.

"Really?!" you ask excitedly.

"Yeah! I guess you'll have some friends when you get there, at least," Remus assures, grinning.

"I bet Remus wishes you had a boyfriend to greet you," Sirius says, disguised with some coughs, and you blush. Remus kicks his friend in the shin again, and turns to you with a sigh.

"Sorry, he doesn't know what he's talking about," he says, and you raise an eyebrow.

"Does he not?" you ask flirtatiously, and it's Remus's turn to blush.

"Uh-"

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" you say with a mischievous grin, one returned by the sandy-haired boy in front of you.

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