#i would have made like the time I was playing Life and had so many kids i had to get an extra car

[jarofstyles]

Leather & Lace

Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you

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Wc- 8.2k

Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping

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“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning. 

“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”

He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask. 

But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different. 

Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to. 

Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked. 

From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.

“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster. 

“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”

He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention. 

Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date. 

No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more. 

It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more. 

They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things. 

Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself. 

Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home. 

Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was. 

Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open. 

It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled. 

Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed. 

The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile. 

—--

“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall. 

“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze. 

God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it.  “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped. 

“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.” 

He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.” 

The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?” 

“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.”  He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time. 

“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”

“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”

“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.

—-----------

Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was. 

Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.” 

“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them. 

“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”

As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.” 

Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though. 

“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.” 

A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out. 

“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.” 

That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was. 

He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?” 

“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.” 

“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags. 

“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.” 

—-----

Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one. 

He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk. 

“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing. 

“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”

Ah, a shot to the heart. 

Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over,  “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.” 

He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.

“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror. 

“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair. 

“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.” 

Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this. 

“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?” 

She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.” 

“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror. 

“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.” 

“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”

Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either. 

After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.” 

“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times. 

“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions. 

Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere. 

She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants. 

“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”

Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure. 

“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-” 

Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.” 

He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal. 

“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.

“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit. 

“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this. 

While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied. 

“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”

“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.” 

God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.” 

“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.” 

Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.” 

“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”

Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”

Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.” 

And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.” 

“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.

“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.” 

Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own. 

“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”

And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly. 

“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?” 

Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.” 

Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.” 

Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.” 

Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.” 

Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.” 

Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.” 

What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?” 

“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again. 

“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.” 

“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him. 

“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on. 

She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.” 

Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”

Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think  I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.” 

“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”

“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head. 

How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake. 

“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.” 

This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see. 

“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?” 

How could he ever tell her no? 

Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop. 

His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it. 

He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face. 

“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck. 

The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.” 

“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him. 

“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic. 

“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.” 

Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head. 

“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.” 

Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time. 

“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”

[acotarxreader]

The Silent Treatment

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: Your past affair sends Azriel into brooding, with Elain being lead to believe that the end of the relationship she hated so much had finally happened.

Warnings: Breaking glass? Angst, silly Elain, sillier Azriel.

A/N: As a result of the poll, please enjoy this short series of unfortunate miss communications. Let me know what you think!

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“Az-Az-Azriel! Would you just listen to me?" You attempted to pull your partner in crime’s crossed arms apart from one another, stopping him outside Feyre’s gallery before entering the charity event.

“You’re not seriously still mad about this?! We weren’t even together, you big Illyrian baby!” He continued to try to walk past you as if you were made of the Summer air you both stood in. You wish you and the Inner Circle never played that stupid drinking game, the story of you and a certain senior member of the Autumn Courts Summer fling many centuries ago leaving your loose liquored lips. 

“Az, it’s been almost two weeks! Can you stop with the silent treatment” He gave you one solitary blink before exhaling loudly and continuing his course into the gallery event, leaving you standing alone in the street. 

“Hi YN!” You almost leapt from your skin at the sound of Elain appearing behind you, you giving a small wave of a greeting in return, your eyes landing on Azriel laughing to some throw-away comment Cassian bellowed. You hadn’t heard that beautiful sound in so long and it gave you a new sense of anger. 

“So I saw that- that little moment with Az, trouble in paradise?” you tried not to let her not-so-innocent words nip at you. For the most part, you got on with Elain but every now and then she would radiate this energy towards you you couldn’t quite shake. 

“I can’t even get into it Elain, he’s really pushed me this time, I’m finished with hi- Shit! The time! I have to go give that speech inside!” You left her on the road suddenly, your commitments interrupting your thought process, unknowingly sending a live grenade into your relationship.

Elain hadn’t heard the end of the thought, the thought that may have ended along the lines of “finished with him ignoring me, I need to make it better” but no, those words were never heard. Elain believed her silent prayers had come true, that things could go back to how they were before you re-entered Azriels life after the war, rekindling the youngling romance you both had with one another. She missed his devoted attention to her, his longing glances she hadn’t felt since you recaptured Azriels world. Now she believed the relationship had been cleaved apart with the knowledge of your tryst with Eris during the years you and Azriel were apart. 

Over the course of the following week, you inadvertently kept your distance from Azriel, being sent on multiple missions for the Court but to Elain, you had chosen to stay away from him. With you away and unable to work onf repairing the relationship combined with Azriel’s ongoing silent treatment, she decided it was time to act on her feelings. 

-

Azriel sat in the Summer sun, sipping herbal tea outside your favourite pastry shop. His eyes drifted to an easy close, warming in the sun until a shadow blocked his warmth.

“Elain?”

“Hello Azzills” Azriel cringed slightly at the use of your endearing pet name for him, it sounding corrupt from her tongue, he shook it off. Elain slid onto the adjacent chair to Azriel, his shadows wanting to leap in alarm at the close proximity. Azriel wished it was you, he missed you in his self-inflicted solitude, and he felt like an idiot for it now.

“Sooo whatcha doing Azills?” The name was like nails on a chalkboard from her. Her hand landed on his thigh, Azriels shadows flurrying slightly. Was Elain drunk? Azriel thought. 

“Ehh nothing Elain, what are you doing?” he half laughed trying to defuse the situation. A year previous he would have loved the touch from her, loved the attention. But not now. Azriel had found you after centuries of war separating you from one another, he had no need for half glances and momentary chances, he had you. 

“I’m doing this” she whispered to him before leaning in and meeting his lips. Azriel was entirely shocked by the boldness. The moment he had wanted for so long was now like the worst crime against nature. Azriels shadows were now frenzied, he placed his arms on her shoulders, moving to push her from him until-

“Azriel?!” Your voice came rushing to his ears as he pushed Elain back, you staring at the two of them in utter horror from a little way down the road. Azriel felt as though he may vomit his tea everywhere when his eyes found yours as they seemingly shattered 

“You bring me down here to meet you for this?!” Your words echoed your heartbreak and Azriels confusion. He went to speak but the words couldn't find their way through the bile and shock building in his throat. You vanished in front of him, unable to take the silence for a second more. Azriel leapt from the iron seat but you were gone, his shadows moving to follow you but not quickly enough. 

“Elain! What the actual fuck?!” He couldn’t decide if he was angrier with himself or with her right now.

“I thought you broke up!” Elain almost as shocked as Azriel. 

“Broken up?! Do you really think I would be out fucking sipping tea if YN and I broke up? I would be dead at the bottom of the Sidra!” she felt shame grow in her at his angry tone. 

-

You rocketed into your shared apartment with Azriel, rage absolutely whipping through you as you swept your hands along the photo frame-covered mantelpiece, the happy members shattering to the ground. You stood in the broken glass, feeling all of the emotions of the happy photos rattle around and be replaced with waves of deep, suffocating sadness. You felt your body roar out and collapse into the broken glass pieces, the shards piercing your knees. Alone in the house, as you had been for the three weeks. You rose from the ground on shaking legs, sitting down on the loveseat, looking at the mess. You gently plucked the shards of broken glass from your knees, your flesh knotting back together. 

“YN” his voice was so mouselike in its uncharacteristic meekness. You lifted your eyes to the Shadowsinger stood sheet-white in the doorway. You hadn’t heard his voice in so long and yet now all you wanted was the silence. 

“No” you found your voice saying.

“Let me explain-”

“-Oh so you get to explain yourself and I’m supposed to listen when you wouldn’t even give me the same grace?-” your voice vibrated with anger “-You kissed another female! Not just any other female, Elain! Elain!” you couldn’t stop your tears sailing over the rim of your eyes, your body beginning to shake at the image in your mind. Azriel closed the distance, sitting ever so cautiously next to you as you felt yourself let him. You missed him beneath it all and wished it wasn’t these circumstances that reunited you. 

“I know YN, I am the scum of the planet, I don’t deserve to explain, please let me though, please, please” his hand took yours in his, a feeling you missed so dearly. 

“If you want to be with Elain then-”

“-Don’t finish that sentence, I don’t want to be with her, only you! She thought we had-we had broken up” he said the end so softly, like the idea could cause him to crumble at any moment. His arm snaked around your waist to support you, your head instinctively leaning into the warmth. You both sat in silence but unlike the kind that had stayed between you for the past three weeks, this was warm, full of comfort and hope and home. 

“I’m sorry about Er-”

“-Please don’t apologise for that, it was so so stupid, my jealousy clouded me, I have you now and you're mine n- you’re still mine right?” his words shook out of him. 

“I don’t think I could ever be anyone else’s-” he kissed the top of your head at the words as you smiled - "unfortunately” he scoffed before laughing at your teasing. 

“I love you Azriel”

“And I love you but the redecorating in here maybe not so much”

“Dibs on not being the one to tell Cass I broke the clay horse he made!” you laughed the words out loudly

“Unfair YN I-”

“Uh uh uh-” you shook your finger playfully in his face “-you’ve given me ammunition for the rest of our lives together in what happened today”

“For the rest of our lives, doesn’t sound too bad” he kissed you sweetly then, peace and passion radiating from you both. 

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Let me know what you think friends <3

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 3

AN: I'm not really sure if I like how this turned out, so if you're new here I promise my writing it typically so much better. ALSO there are so many new faces on here! I wanted to say hello and thank you for the love once again! If you liked this fic and you love drama, forbidden love, protective acotar boys, a bit of a slow burn, and political intrigue you would LOVE and I mean LOVE my fic Young Love and Old Money. I’m still writing it but it’s almost completed! Go check it out you won’t be disappointed!

and of course check out my masterlist

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 

Warnings: smut, so much lucien fluff, happy ending for lucien (for once) :)

Word count: 5057

We arrived in the house in silence, the only thing to fill the void was the crackling of the enchanted fire that always sprang to life whenever I walked through the door. My eyes were fixed on the floorboards, studying every grain of wood as I put together what had just happened. 

I had told Azriel about the bond, and I did it in anger. I had imagined telling him a million different ways over the past 400 years but never did imagine doing it out of spite. I was just so angry with Elain and her insufferable entitlement that had me seeing red. If anyone should act in such a manner, it should be me, I was a princess after all. 

I was furious with Elain there was no doubt about that, but the voice that kept echoing in my mind was Azriel’s. How he yelled at me. I had known him my whole life and I had never once been afraid of him,  until today. 

As if he was tired of the silence, Lucien brushed his hand under my chin bringing my gaze to his, it wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying. I didn’t even give him a chance to ask if I was alright before I started blubbering. 

“Lu I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to. She just got under my skin and I-” 

“Shhh” he cooed, pulling me into his chest. “It’s okay, I understand. I didn’t react much better when Azriel started talking.” he chuckled, no doubt remembering how he preemptively called me his wife, the words had rolled off his tongue so effortlessly it was admirable. 

“He’s never raised his voice to me like that. Not ever,” I hiccup into his chest, his scent like apples, spiced berries and woodsmoke. 

“I should’ve burned him to a crisp for doing so he has no right to treat you that way,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“It’s alright, now that he knows he’ll be entitled to act possessive of me,” I sigh, starting to feel my pulse slow in his arms. 

“And I’m not granted that same right? To protect you?” Lucien said, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. 

“Well, you aren’t my mate,” I laugh looking into his eyes. 

“And what if that doesn’t matter to me? That we aren’t mates? What if I think that the Cauldron made a terrible, horrible mistake by not binding me to you in every way imaginable?” he confesses. 

I search his face for a hint of that playful gleam I saw earlier. The trickster, the silver tongued fox who might be playing me for a fool. But I didn’t find it, for all those fiery eyes bore was sincerity. 

“What do you mean Lu?” I ask earnestly. 

“Exactly what I said, you aren’t my mate, but…” he stops as if to consider his words. “But I still feel like you are in a way, I feel protective of you. In a way I always have, remember when you scraped your knee climbing that cherry blossom tree in the spring court all those years ago?” 

I smile remembering the event, I had wanted some cherry blossoms to braid into my hair. “Yes I do, I still have the scar.” I laughed. 

“I know you do, I see it every time I make love to you,” he smiled back. “I remember carrying you to the healers at the spring court from half a mile out. Even then I couldn’t stand the thought of you bearing any sort of scar. What I’m trying to say is that you may not be my mate, but I love you like you’re mine. Because you are, you are mine.”

My breath gets caught in my throat and my eyes go wide at those three little words. The ones I thought I might’ve felt too these past few months. 

I love you. 

For a year now things between Lucien and I had been strictly situational, just a means to an end. Then I started noticing the little things, his toothbrush next to mine, his laundry in my hamper, him having his own side of the bed. Things changed, but it wasn’t a bad change, which was a new idea for me, as I had always resented change. But not this, this was good. 

I thought I had felt that emotion with Lucien before. The night that I came home and he had made us both dinner. The time he bought me the second book in a series just because he noticed I was almost done with the first. The week I was sick he nursed my back to health. I thought I felt love each and every one of those times, but I wasn’t sure. I always teetered on saying it but never caved. But as I stood here in his arms, watching his eyes light up as he said those words to me, I knew I felt the same.

“I-I love you too Lucien,” I said quietly so only he could hear, even though we were the only two people in the house. 

He wastes no time bringing his mouth to mine, for so long our kisses had been fervent, needy. Both of us desiring pleasure and the codling that came after it. This kiss was different than all the rest, in it I felt real love. The kind I had only read about in my numerous romance novels. I dreamed of being kissed this way my entire life. 

I felt strong hands grip my waist hoisting me up. My legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he started bounding up the stairs, his enthusiasm making me giggle.

“Believe me my love, there is nothing funny about the way I’m going to ravish you tonight,” he smirked before kicking open the bedroom door. 

The next day I woke up slowly, not wanting to move from where Lucien had placed me on his chest last night. Both of us took our time to have a steady morning knowing that later in the day there would be chaos. Lucien got up first, always the more responsible of the two of us. When I murmured a sleepy protest he simply chuckled and placed me back in bed, where I snuggled into the warm sheets that smell faintly of him. 

When I woke for the second time I smelled that delectable scent of pancakes wafting through the small townhouse. The aroma pulled me from the sheets in a sleepy haze as if my body was controlled by some other worldly force. Slipping on my blue nightgown and padding downstairs into the kitchen I found Lucien half clothed and cooking breakfast for the two of us.

“Blueberry pancakes, not chocolate chip,” he assured me, sprinkling fresh blueberries onto a pancake. 

“You remembered,” I sighed leaning against the counter watching him intently. When Lucien had first made breakfast for me I was taken aback by his cooking skills, there was no way that this man was the complete package. 

“How could I forget?” he laughed, flipping a pancake. “Last time I made chocolate you were on your cycle and you were so befuddled that you yanked the spatula out of my hand and spanked me with it.” 

I slid between him and the stove, “Don’t act like you didn’t like it,” I say my voice low and sultry as my hand slowly reaches for the spatula he’s hidden behind his back. 

“You little minx,” he teases when he feels my fingers searching for the torture weapon. The mischievous gleam flashes in his eyes and before I can run he swipes a blob of whipped cream from a nearby bowl onto my cheek. 

“Lu!” I scoff going to wipe the cream off my cheek but he grasps my wrist to stop me. 

“Fair is fair my dear,” he smirks before licking the sweetness off my cheek. I immediately feel my toes curl at the fiery sensation.

“You are insatiable,” I laughed, moving away from him to properly wipe my face.

I feel a quick slap to my arse with the spatula and I turn to see my fiancé standing with a self satisfied smirk. “Says you little miss ‘more Lucien more!’” he teases recalling how I begged him to touch me last night.

“I knew you would  tease me about that!” I shouted, pushing his study form as hard as I could, he didn’t even teeter. “I’ll never beg for you again!” 

He smiles, grabbing my left hand and pulling it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the ring adorning it. “There will never be a need,” he smirked. “Now go and set the table, babysitting Nyx duties can’t be put off for forever.” 

I had told Rhys and Feyre that I would happily watch Nyx this afternoon. Of course that was before they knew about Lucien, who might’ve gotten away with a pleasant afternoon in my townhouse with a new book but now? He was shackled to me to watch the young one.

 While the little High Lord in training was typically quite docile, he had just learned to crawl and had begun flapping his little wings, which meant trouble was becoming the new normal. Which is exactly what had happened today…

“Nyx no!” I shouted as he reached for a heavy book on one of the bookshelves, his tiny wings helping him to gain the extra inch or two of ground he needed. 

I grabbed him from underneath his shoulders and brought him into my arms, bouncing him on my hip as his eyes caught the shiny necklace I was wearing. His little hands grabbed at it and I figured it was better than a vase or another heavy book. 

“Just imagine till he can actually fly,” Lucien chuckled, coming up behind me.

“That won’t be for quite a while thankfully,” I laugh, bouncing the babe up and down.

“Are you so sure about that? Cassian seems to already be giving him lessons.” he points out. 

“I don’t even want to think about a flying toddler,” I scoff and Lucien chuckles behind me. 

 He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I could feel his lips curling into a smile.“Is it bad that I’m enjoying watching this?” he admitted. 

“Watching what?” I laugh as Nyx puts the necklace in his mouth. 

“You, with a baby in your arms,” he said. 

“I’ve always wanted children,” I said and a beat of silence passed until I decided to be bold. “Lu, do you think we could ever have children?” I ask, afraid to turn around and possibly see a wary look on his face.

I felt Lucien’s chuckle reverberate behind me, “As many as you would like my darling.” he laughed. 

I whipped around with Nyx to search his eyes for a hint of uncertainty, but he seemed happy about the idea, “Really?” I asked in disbelief. 

“Of course,” he assured me. 

“I want a million just like little Nyx here,” I smile looking at the babe in my arms. 

“Minus the wings of course,” Lucien laughs behind me and I pause. 

My entire life I had always pictured my children with wings. Small, delicate little things that I would ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ over.  I remembered seeing the Illyrian children in Windhaven growing up, I was always so happy when mothers would let me hold their babies, their wings so adorably small. I looked forward to having winged children of my own, but now things had changed. 

“What is it my dear?” Lucien asked, breaking me out of my trance. 

“Oh it’s nothing, it’s just that when I pictured my children I always figured they would have wings,” I say, pressing a kiss to Nyx’s temple. 

As if summoned, Azriel walked in, Rhys and Feyre in tow, signaling that their meeting was over. His eyes flitted to me, no doubt having heard what I had said. Lucien’s hand tightened on my hip. 

“How was he? Was he good?” Feyre smiled crossing the room to take her son in her arms once more.

“He was, but those wings are going to give me grief one day,” I smile watching Nyx snuggle into his mothers arms. 

“Don’t worry I’m terrified too,” Rhys laughed, approaching his mate and child. 

A comfortable silence ensued as I watched the little family reunite, smiles and warmth surrounding them. Lucien’s hand came to my shoulder, as if promising that we too would have that same picture perfect family one day. 

“Can we talk?” Azriel asked timidly, taking a step away from the doorway he leaned against. Feyre and Rhys take out of the room, no doubt feeling the change in the atmosphere.  

I searched his eyes for a hint of aggression but all I found was remorse, “Yes we may,” I say quietly.

“If you lay one hand on her spymaster I will burn you to ash,” Lucien growled, his hand on my shoulder tightening possessively.

“You have my word that I will not touch her in anger,” Azriel said earnestly, not a hint of teasing or mockery. Instead, a new found respect for Lucien showed in his eyes. 

I go to follow Azriel into the other room when I feel Lucien grab my hand pulling me into his broad chest. 

“Wait,” he said before slamming his lips to mine. The gesture was so passionate I couldn’t help but let out the slightest of moans as I felt him cradle the back of my head. This wasn’t just a kiss goodbye, it was a display of power to Azriel, letting him know how serious the two of us were. I couldn’t help but feel my lips turn up at Lucien’s sudden daring. 

I felt him back away to survey my face, as if looking for any hesitancy to enter into a conversation with Azriel. When he was certain I was comfortable he placed a kiss on my brow, “I’ll be right here if you need me.” he said as I dropped his hand and followed Azriel into Rhys’ study. 

The doors to the office closed with a resolute click as Azriel turned to face me, his eyes somber. 

“First and foremost I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I behaved the other night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that or said the things I did” he said leaning against the desk a food meter away from me, as if Lucien had scared him from coming any closer. 

“It’s alright I forgive you. I shouldn’t have blurted out such an important thing anyways. We were both at fault.” I say earnestly. 

Azriel pulls his gaze from his boots to me, “I heard what you said in there, about your children having wings. Did you ever picture that those children would be?” he starts leaving me room to finish the sentence for him. 

“Yours? Yes.” I say timidly.

Azriel sighs as if weighing what all this means, “How long have you known?” he prompts. 

I think to lie, but it wouldn’t bear well on my soul. It was best to get it all out in the open. 

“400 years.” I confess and he curses under his breath. “I knew it the night you danced with me at the solstice ball in the Hewn City.” 

“Fuck y/n,” he curses again, turning to brace his hands on the desk behind him and I take a tentative step towards him. 

“I’m sorry I never told you, that wasn’t fair to you.” I sigh, but he doesn’t reply so I continue on. “It’s just that every time I thought about it you were pining for Mor and then Elain. I never felt I stood a chance. But you would talk to me about them, and even though it broke my heart to hear how you loved them so, it was better than losing you. I told myself that if I couldn’t have your love I would cherish your friendship, and maybe that was selfish of me but I did it.” 

Azriel finally turned from the desk to meet my gaze and I tried to offer him the most sympathetic glance I could. 

“I understand why you never told me, but I still wish I had known. Thing’s might’ve been different.” he said, running a hand through his hair. 

I pause to consider his words, “Would they be?” I ask. 

He looked at me in confusion, like I was dispelling the idea that the sky was blue. I understood his disarray. For thousands of years things had always been the same, mates were mates and that was that. But maybe what Lucien said last night did have merit. 

“Are you not happy with Elain?” I prompt him with a light heart, as I finally started to feel some solace in my own words. 

“y/n I don’t want to-” 

“You do not burden me Az.” I interrupt him, knowing what he was going to say. “Tell me truthfully.” 

A blush tints his cheeks as he averts his gaze to his boots once more, “I am happy. I am very happy.” he smiles as if he can’t help it. 

“I think it was meant to be this way,” I say honestly watching the shadowsinger reeling in front of me. 

“What about you? Are you?”

“Happy?” I ask, glancing to the door where I know Lucien waits for me on the other side. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.” I smile answering him. 

“How long have you and him been… you know?” he asks, seemling losing all tension in his body as he sees me at ease.  

“Since starfall,” I answered, remembering the first time Lu kissed me. 

“A year?!” Az balked, raising his voice in disbelief. 

I laugh watching his face drop, “it’s interesting the things you don’t notice when you’re in love,” I wink at him, knowing he was too caught up with Elain to pay any mind to Lu and I. 

Azriel shakes his head as if processing this new information before he turns to me again, “And do you love him?” he asks. 

I smile remembering last night, “I do, I love him very much.” I answer. 

“And does he love you?” Az presses further, as if he needs to tie up all loose ends before he can be at ease with the entire situation. 

“I think he made that pretty clear a couple minutes ago,” I laughed, referring to the kiss he gave me. 

“Yeah I suppose I got that message loud and clear,” Azriel chuckled as a pause of silence fell over us. “I think… I think in another lifetime we would’ve made each other really happy.”

“Maybe even this lifetime.” I say sadly thinking of what could’ve been. “But I love Lucien, he chose me when I thought no one else would, and maybe I’m making a mistake by marrying him. But somehow it feels like the first right thing I’ve done in the past 400 years.” 

“He’s a very lucky man,” Azriel remarked with a certain sadness. “I hope that you will be happy with him,” he finished seemingly giving me his blessing.

“I think it was meant to be this way, don't you?” I ask, finally feeling my heart and my conscious lighten. 

“I do,” he smiles before holding his hand out to me. “Friends?” he asks. 

I nod clasping my hand in his, “Friends.” 

“Let’s get you back to your fiancé before I find myself in a pile of ash on the floor,” Azriel chuckles, putting his hand on the door. 

I laugh with him and when the door to the living room opens I find Lucien and Elain hugging. 

My heart is caught in my throat as I realize that perhaps Lucien might’ve changed his mind. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. She was his true mate after all and, she was astonishingly beautiful. Maybe I was misled when Azriel and I settled our differences. 

Both their heads whipped our way, and Lucien’s smile shined brightly. I was unsure of who that smile was for until he ran over to me, grabbing me by the hips and spinning me around. 

“It is done,” Lucien cheered and out of the corner of my eye I saw Azriel throw an arm around Elain’s shoulders. 

“What is?” I laughed once my feet were back on the ground. 

“I don’t want to wait any longer. I want to call you my wife by sundown.” Lucien said affectionately. 

“And why shouldn’t you wait? She’s a princess after all, you should snatch her up while you can,” Elain called out affectionately from Azriel’s side. I couldn’t help but look at the two of them standing there.  

A hand snaked its way under my chin taking my attention to him before he planted his lips on mine. “Be mine, forever.” he proposed. 

I couldn’t stop the smile that graced my face, “Okay,” I said quietly. 

A cheer from Elain erupted behind me and suddenly it felt like all the pieces were falling into place, like everything I had ever wanted for myself had now come true. 

The ceremony was short, just like Lucien and I had wanted. However, instead of an elopement it was a small gathering, Cass and Ness, Amren, Mor, Az and Elain and of course Rhys and Feyre were present. I wore my mothers dress and at some point Lu had slipped out to buy me a proper ring, not that I minded the old one. 

The rest of the night was filled with drinking and frivolity. The whole family laughing and telling stories, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged with all of them, as I sat on my husband's lap. It wasn’t until many glasses of wine later that I found Lucien carrying me bridal style over the threshold of our home. 

“This really isn’t necessary,” I laughed, holding a spare bottle of wine in my hand as he stepped through the doorway, the fireplace roaring to life. 

“It’s traditional for a husband to carry his wife over the threshold of their home after the wedding.” he retorted, stepping inside the house and closing the door with his foot. 

“For humans not for fae,” I corrected him as he finally set me down on slightly unsteady legs. 

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to carry you,” he laughed, taking the wine from my hand and setting it on a side table by the door. 

“You never need an excuse for that,” I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck. 

“Well in that case,” he smirks before picking me up again and bounding up our stairs.

My feet don’t hit the floor until we’re in our room, his lips finding mine in an instant. With a wave of my hand I remove my dress, magically placing it back to wherever my dear brother found it. Lucien tossed his shirt over his head so that my hands might wander the plains of his toned chest. His hands find my hips pushing me away ever so slightly so that he can see me.

His eyes graze the expanse of my bare body and I’m suddenly frustrated by the fact that I’m the only one laid bare in the room. 

“My wife,” he says, kissing my lips, pulling me closer. “My, beautiful, beautiful wife.” he kisses me again, smiling like he can’t help it. 

I try to speak but he deepens the kiss once more, robbing me of words as he uses his body to overpower me with sheer force. His hands find my arse, giving it a squeeze before lifting my feet off the ground and tossing me onto our bed. 

In a turn of events, my eyes wander the expanse of his body. Toned from years and years of training. His eyes sparkle with amusement and suddenly I feel like a sitting duck awaiting his mouth on me once more. 

He falls onto the bed, hovering over me as he places yet another kiss on my lips. I use his imbalance to knee his hips towards the bed, my body weight pinning him beneath me as his eyes look up to me with pure lust. Large hands dance up my sides as if to encourage any next move I might make. 

“My handsome, cunning, silver tongued husband,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his bare chest. My mouth trails over his chest, to his shoulders, and his collar bones. Needing every part of him on my lips. It isn’t until I get to his neck that he lets loose a groan and flips us back over. 

“While I enjoy the sight of you pleasuring yourself on my cock wife, I shall be the one to take you tonight,” he smirks, biting my neck hard, no doubt trying to leave his mark there. 

“Oh Lu,” I breathe, feeling my  body come alive over his lips and wandering hands. 

My eyes shoot open as I feel his breath hovering over my sex, the warmth causing my blood to burn. 

“What a lucky male a I am to be able to taste this sweet cunt whenever I please,” he smiled mischievously before licking a stripe up my center.

I let out a breathy moan as he continues to lick and suck every inch of me. His hands parting my thighs warm and hard as he circles my clit with his tongue. My fingers thread through his hair pulling him impossibly close, earning a groan from him that reverberates through me. 

“Like fucking honeysuckle,” he moans before trailing more kisses up my body. 

I slink down moving towards where his cock peeks out of his untied breeches. Needing to feel the weight of him in my mouth, needing to hear the whimpers of pleasure on his tongue but he stops me. 

“No not tonight,” he fusses pushing me back down into the mattress. 

“But Lu-”

“No buts” he interrupts. “I want to pleasure my new wife tonight. Let me have that,” he moans silencing any protest I might have with a kiss as he slides home. 

The all consuming feeling of being taken by him as me gasping for breath as my back arches off the bed. My tits rising towards his mouth and he easily grasps a hardened nipple between his lips, sucking eagerly. 

“Lucien,” I breathe feeling him all around me.

“I love you,” he rasped, thrusting deeper. “My wife I love you.” he grunted watching where he slammed into me with intensity. 

My hand came to cup his face bringing his eyes to mine. My fingers trace the scar over his golden eye as I see the emotion flood his russet colored eye. “I love you too, husband,” I whisper to him. 

A gleam finds his eyes and he drives into me harder, the sound of skin slapping reverberating throughout the room. It was as if me uttering his new title spurred him on. 

We’re a tangled mess of sweat slick limbs and ragged breaths as I feel him deeper and deeper inside of me. My nails scraping his back, trying to find purchase or something to anchor me as pleasure rips through my body. His pants become whimpers as I feel myself tightening around him. 

“Always so perfectly tight,” he curses, driving through my tight heat. 

His words are enough to have me falling apart under him, my legs shaking from pleasure as I cry his name. 

“Lucien oh gods!” I cry, my hands no doubt leaving marks in his skin. 

“That’s right my love, cum for me,” he groans before sputtering himself. “Fuck,” he mutters before I feel him burry his seed deep inside me. 

His whimpers fill the space between my neck and shoulder as he finishes inside me. Once he’s spent he rolls over taking me with him so I’m cuddled into his side. 

“I’m so unbelievably happy,” he whispers into the world, still coming down from his high. 

“I’m told that’s often a side effect of an orgasm,” I laugh running a hand up and down his chest, soothing him.  

“No,” he says breathlessly, turning so that he is hovering over me once more. “I’m unbelievably happy because of you. You have not only given me your love, but you’ve given me a house, and a family. I never thought I would have those things. You are… you are everything and I promise to be the most amazing husband I can be.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow. 

“You already are,” I smile, pulling him into another heated kiss. 

It would undoubtedly be like this for many years to come. However long the Cauldron allowed me  to live, I knew I would always have a place here, with Lucien. And maybe things didn’t go as I had always planned, but gods was I happy, and more importantly I was loved. 

Lucien Vanserra chose me, not because I was his mate, or because the world told him to. No, he chose me because he loved me, even when it wasn’t convenient for him, and I chose him too. I would choose him until the end of my days. 

Epilogue: Five Years Later

“Careful my darling,” Lucien fussed, helping to lower me down onto a sofa. 

“Lu I’m pregnant not fatally injured,” I laugh waving him away as I rest my hands on my ever growing bump. 

“Of course, pregnancy is a walk in the park, I’ll remember that next time you beat me for serving you chocolate pancakes instead of blueberry,” he chides, pulling a blanket over my lap. “I spend a year telling myself you like blueberries and this little one comes along and all of the sudden you want chocolate.” 

“Pregnancy cravings are no joke my friend,” Rhysand laughs from the adjacent couch. “I find it best to satisfy your wife’s cravings as soon as possible before she asks for another ridiculous request.” 

“Especially when one’s wife is a princess,” Lucien teases, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“You married me!” I protest.

“And I thank the Cauldron every day that I did,” Lucien smiles, pressing a kiss to my lips finally.

(do we need an Az version now?)

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[celestialprincesse]

little baby ghost headcanons please.. id love to see your take on simon when he was a wee young thing. :')

Responding to this rq before I get back into studying but!! I have so many ideas!!

ᯓ★

Simon was definitely one of those really sweet and well meaning, but super awkward kids. His mum always had to encourage him to say hi and actually talk to people when they went out or had visitors over.

He was desperately obsessed with planes and the RAF growing up and saved up all his pocket money to buy little model spitfires, typhoons etc. For one of his birthdays, his mum even drove him down to the Duxford Imperial War Museum to see one of the air shows. It was one of the best days of his life.

Growing up, he was a really clever kid, but never really had any sort of passion for education, and whilst he excelled in sports, and other more hands on subjects like woodworking, he took absolutely no interest in the more content heavy classes.

When Tommy was born, Simon helped his mum put the furniture together, and even carved some (admittedly rudimentary) toys for his baby brother in his woodworking classes.

He was a total mama's boy growing up, and much preferred doing stuff with his mum, even down to running errands, than going out with kids his own age. If Mrs Riley was seen anywhere, Simon would probably be somewhere close by.

As a teenager, he got made fun of a lot for being quieter, and whilst all of his classmates were fixated on getting girlfriends and going out, he was much happier at home helping his mum or kicking a ball around with Tommy.

He had a real passion for music, especially late 60's/early 70's rock, and asked his mum for a guitar for one of his birthdays. She felt awful for the fact that she couldn't afford it, let alone lessons for him to learn how to play it, and so Simon got a job at the butchers to save up.

By the time he had enough cash for the guitar he actually wanted, he'd long gone off it and wanted to save up in order to buy a car or put it towards going to college.

ᯓ★

I came back to England yesterday & drove past Duxford (which was one of my favourite museums growing up) and it made me think that Simon was most definitely an RAF/military history nerd🥴

[mysteryshoptls]

NRC Master Chef Finale

"There is no end to the culinary road"

I don't normally take requests for chapters from events, but I liked the descriptions of the students that I was planning on doing this outtro anyway. Please enjoy.

[Kitchen]

Head Chef: Right. That finishes up the prep work we need for tomorrow.

Crowley: Good evening!

Head Chef: Oh hello, Headmage. What can I do for you so late at night?

Crowley: Well, currently the Master Chef course is ongoing, is it not?

Crowley: I thought I would ask how the students taking the class are faring.

Head Chef: The students? Hmm, well…

[shows Silver, Deuce, Ruggie, Epel, and Jack]

Head Chef: Some do the best they can, even if they had a hard time learning.

[shows Ace, Idia, Leona]

Head Chef: Some are coachable, since they try to find ways to make it easier on themselves.

[shows Trey, Jamil, Floyd]

Head Chef: Some already have highly impressive cooking skills.

[shows Malleus, Cater, Vil, Ortho]

Head Chef: Some are still unaccustomed to cooking, but have a certain spark.

[shows Kalim, Lilia, Jade]

Head Chef: Some go beyond what the recipe says and creates their own spin on the dish.

[shows Riddle, Rook, Sebek, Azul]

Head Chef: Some read into every last detail of the recipe to reproduce it as faithfully as they possibly can.

Head Chef: …There are many different types of students, just off the top of my head.

Crowley: I see…

Crowley: Well, in truth, I have received many complaints from the students and professors that we've had as judges saying things like, "This isn't edible at all!"

Crowley: I was wonder what could possibly be going on… But it seems as though this course brings forward very individualistic personalities.

Crowley: Ah, that being said, of course we've also received compliments as well!

Crowley: I especially find that we don't receive as many complaints in the latter half of the course. Perhaps it shows how much the students have improved.

Crowley: And of course, all of this is thanks to our splendid chefs.

Head Chef: No, not at all.

Head Chef: It's thanks to the hard work of the students who have been taking this Master Chef course that everyone else is happy.

Crowley: Is that right! Fufufu, well, I should have expected such excellence from those attending this academy.

Crowley: I'm sure this means that the students who took this Master Chef course all came to understand just how important food is.

Crowley: One day, when they've become great mages, there can be no doubt that they will look back on this course and be eternally grateful.

Crowley: Please keep up the good work for tomorrow as well.

Head Chef: Of course! We'll make sure that everyone at Night Raven College knows just how fun and worthwhile cooking can be.

Crowley: ...Sooo… By the way, I'm feeling a little peckish, would there be anything that I could have as a midnight snack…?

Head Chef: Is that the real reason you came down to the cafeteria!? Hmph, and here I was astonished that you actually were asking me something so profound at first!

Crowley: NOT AT ALL! BUT EVEN IF IT WERE, IT'S YOUR FAULT THAT YOUR FOOD IS SO DELICIOUS!!

Head Chef: Well, I suppose, then… Heheh. Cooking can be hard work, but…

Head Chef: Whenever I can see people happily eating something I've made, it quickly revitalizes me.

[The Master Chef intro movie plays, except it is Crowley speaking]

Crowley: "Food," the very foundation of life.

Crowley: Clear oceans, majestic mountains, tender earth.

Crowley: Accept everything nature provides, and use it to nourish yourself.

Crowley: If you so will it, knowledge and valor will be bestowed upon you.

Crowley: Move forward! Never look back! The culinary road is foreboding and grueling.

Crowley: However, when you finally reach the summit, it will all be yours to claim.

Crowley: The crowning achievement―

Crowley: THE GLORIOUS TITLE OF MASTER CHEF!

Crowley: There is no end to the culinary road…

Crowley: Continue to do your best next time, as well. I'll be cheering you on!

Requested by Anonymous.

[gay-dorito-dust]

( ´∀`) I am possibly missing where it says your requests are open or not. I apologize if it is.

If it interests you (your batfam posts bring me joy) how would the boys Jay, Dick, Damian (whoever else) would react to only being able to tell the truth for a day? Like they confess all the things they like about their crush, compliment their family, admit to disliking a dish Alfred made (GASP <(｀^´)> ).

Thank youuuuu~

Jason wore his heart on his sleeve, he lets anyone knows what’s on his mind with zero filter, so him being forced to be truthful was no different to how Jason actually was on a day to day basis.

So at first he doesn’t think anything was out of the ordinary until you asked him a question one day regarding your love life;

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to find anyone here Jay, I mean what do I have to do to find somebody.’

‘You don’t have to do anything because everyone else is the problem, not you.’ Jason found himself answering before his mind could find an appropriate response without crossing the boundary of your friendship. ‘They obviously don’t see perfection when they see it because they weren’t looking at you and I find that insulting because who wouldn’t look into your eyes and see forever within them?.’ He finishes and was quick to cover his mouth with his hand, worried that he might’ve said too much for you.

‘And do you see forever in my eyes jay birdie?’ You asked softly, leaning towards him.

Jason drops his hand from his mouth. ‘Hell yeah I do, amongst many other things because you’re worth every heartbreak I’ve ever had in the past because being with you would be my life’s greatest dream come true.’

The next time Jason spoke truthfully was when Dick came to visit and it was after a long, long night of patrol and sleep was at the forefront of his mind, causing it to fog as he let it slip on what he truly thought of Dick.

‘You’re my brother, we may not be related by blood but no one has stood in my corner and was so prepared to be in the wrong then you Richard, and for that I thank you. You really are the best of us.’

Needless to say when he found out that Dick had the whole thing recorded, he wanted to strangle the fucker and make his death look like an accident. Sibling things.

Now, Jason -much like any other- loved Alfred’s food and would never raise an issue over it as he’d pretty much eat anything with his bottomless stomach. So even if he didn’t like one of Alfred’s recipes more self then others, he would say it in the most politest way possible. He loved that kindhearted man too much to ever say anything in regards of the food he’s made him since he was a young lad.

Dick would find peoples expressions to him being honest and truthful funny, but at the same time would be somewhat relieved with this turn out, as he wouldn’t have to force himself to be truthful just to get people to stop asking whether he was alright or not.

He knew he wasn’t always open and honest with his innermost thoughts and feelings at the best and worst of times, knowing all too well of how that would cause lead to the occasional argument of two down the line for himself, but he was never really given the space to figure it out himself on his own time.

So when he found himself speaking the truth to just about anyone, it was as though his heart was exposed for all to see it beating and all. It was as though all of his innermost thoughts regarding everyone in his life was being broadcasted to anyone and everyone with ears and the ability to hear it.

‘You’re so good with Hayley you know.’ Dick blurted once when you were playing with Hayley, stoping as soon as you heard him say this, allowing for Hayley to snatch the toy from your limp hand and lie down elsewhere to amuse herself with the squeaks that the toy would make every time she bite down on it.

‘What?’ You asked.

‘I mean it, you’re really good with Hayley and you’ve been nothing but an amazing person with a pretty smile and addicting laugh.’ Dick adds as he held his head in his hands as he looked at you with a soft look upon his face. Dick wasn’t still that bothered that you knew how he felt, it was bound to come out sooner or later and would take it in stride, even if he didn’t have control over what had just came out of his mouth just now.

The next time Dick finds himself being truthful was when he visited Jason after a long night of patrol and in the midst of a silent period Dick then said;

‘You’re amazing Jason. Bruce doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he never did when it came to us Robins, using one of us as a frame of reference for everyone else isn’t fair but you are my friend, my brother and I am so proud of you. You are not a failure, you’re anything but one.’ Jason sat silent the entire time and after Dick had finished he made a noise from the back of his throat, a small smile gracing his face as he looked out over the streets of Gotham, reaching out to pat Dick on the shoulder and said. ‘Thanks man.’

Dick always cared deeply for Jason, seeing him as his little brother and would gladly stand in his corner no matter what, even if he was wrong because that was what older siblings did. Dick never shied away from how deeply he felt agonising pain when he though he had lost his little brother and confronted Bruce about the entire thing, enraged and grieving simultaneously. Now whenever he caught wind of what Jason was doing as red hood, he can’t help but smile knowing his brother was doing just fine, but would always make it known that he was just a phone call away.

Dick knew Alfred wasn’t going to bite his head off for saying that he didn’t like something but would instead ask how he could better it for his taste. So even if Dick did say anything about one of Alfred’s recipe, he knows Alfred would be more than understanding. However it was an unspoken rule amongst him and his siblings that they’d eat anything and everything Alfred made them without a single complaint unless it was necessary.

They all love that man too much to ever say anything negative about his cooking.

Damian would hate being forced to speak nothing but the truth.

He’d really hate it as being blunt and opinionated was how he always was and so being open and honest wasn’t his forte and it felt wrong in a sense due to it feeling as though he was put in a position of vulnerability.

He hates it even more when he finds himself confessing to all the things that he liked and or found remotely interesting about you whenever you were near, it felt as though someone was pupating him to say these things when deep down he knew they were how he genuinely felt but was too deep in denial to admit this to himself.

‘How do I look?’ You innocently asked.

‘Breathtaking like you always do so seamlessly.’ Damian replied without hesitation before looking up from his sketchbook once realisation hit him, only to see that you were already looking at him with wide eyes.

‘You mean that?’ You said, wanting to know whether or not you heard him properly.

‘Of course.’ Damian said and when he felt his mouth open, he tried to close it but it seemed as though his body had a mind of his own as he found himself continuing to speak. ‘On many occasions have I spent thinking you were naturally breathtaking and have thought so for many more on top of that to the point you are my one sole muse.’ He finished and it wasn’t long before you were planning your first date together.

Damian knew this wouldn’t be the first time he was going to be forced to speak the truth and the second time came in him actually complimenting Tim on his smarts and combat prowess, something that he’d rather drink pure poison before ever admitting out of pride.

‘Tt. Don’t sell yourself short Drake, you’re a competent Robin and an exceptional detective.’ He’d say when it was just him and Tim in the Batcave and immediately regrets it and makes him swear to secrecy, obviously this doesn’t last long after the period of speaking truthfully wears off and Damian goes back to being his blunt, straightforward, unapologetic self.

Damian loves Alfred’s cooking, but all of his cooking weren’t Damian’s favourite and while he wouldn’t hesitate to tell others how he felt, he didn’t feel the same when it came to Alfred’s cooking despite the man being nothing but kind and open minded.

So if he ever were to speak about his least favourite food Alfred had ever made and even when Alfred was more then accepting of his opinion, Damian would try to help Alfred however he could in return for his comments about his cooking. Alfred was probably one person he’d never want to hurt with his words.

[newtonsheffield]

Okay but also the way Kate is totally playing off Anthony’s breeding kink is ludicrous and I am here for it haha.

Anthony is… ✨enamored✨ with the idea of Kate having his baby. When she first mentioned it to him, even before their wedding on days when they’d walk with her arm in his through the park with Newton wagging his tail in front of them his stomach had dropped at the idea in a way he hadn’t expected.

He knew he had to have a child, he was a first born son several times over and it was expected of him, to have a son. But he hadn’t expected the thrill in his chest when she mentioned it. Teasing him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asking me how many children I wish for? I had heard you terrorized quite a few young ladies with that question at the beginning of the season.”

Anthony felt his jaw clench at the idea of Kate with a tiny child on her hip, dark curly hair bouncing as Kate laughed.

“There’s Papa!”

“Papa!”

It surprised him, how badly he wanted that for himself. How badly he wanted that for them.

He rolled his eyes at her. “It’s been greatly exaggerated I assure you. Do you desire children?”

A look crossed her face, tentative and unsure as she fiddled with her glove. “Until recently it’s not… something I had let myself consider but I… yes. I would like being a mother, I think.”

Anthony’s chest felt tight and he nodded, “Then it’s decided. We’ll have children.”

Kate chuckled, “I think it’s expected of us regardless. Do not fancy lords need an heir?”

“We’re not speaking of an heir. We’re speaking of Children.”

“Children then.” He watched her relax, smiling at him as the passed a woman craning her neck to stare at them. “Of course we already have Newton.”

“Ah yes, other than Newton.”

The idea of it burned in his chest after their marriage as well. Kate growing round with his child for everyone to see. Everyone able to see the love she bore him. But more than that he wanted to give her what she wanted. She had asked for so little in her life, putting everyone else before her own wants and needs. The thought of being able to give her what she wanted burned in him.

He can barely contain it in those first few weeks after she told him, her cheeks a little flushed.

“I’m not certain, so please please don’t get too excited. But my courses should have arrived this week just gone.”

She hadn’t wanted to make too much of it at first, until nearly a month had gone by and her courses still hadn’t made an appearance and the signs became more and more evident.

“Can we celebrate now?” He’s asked her, his hands resting on her stomach when he caught her studying her reflection in the mirror.

A small smile, gentle and beautiful, swept over her . “Yes, we can celebrate now.”

He can’t wait to announce it to their families. He watches her write a letter to her mother telling her they were expecting, inviting her to visit. And excitement thrums in his chest when he finally says

“Kate and I are expecting a child.”

He never thought it would feel like this. He’d expected marriage to be such a duty but this could never be a duty with Kate. And he’s glad for it.

[storiesforallfandoms]

too far ~ jschlatt

word count: 2231

request?: no

description: in which he takes his dickishness a little too far

pairing: jschlatt x female!reader

warnings: swearing, rpf, angst, use of y/n, schlatt being a dick, insecurities and self...issues (?),

masterlist (one, two, three)

*i read a fic with this premise like a week or two ago but i cannot for the life of me find it anymore and i needed some mean schlatt angst turned fluff so i am writing my own version. if you are the original author this one goes out to you i will tag you if i can find you*

Everyone who knew Schlatt knew that he was sometimes "mean". It was never serious, it was all just meant to be teasing. For the most part, the worst of it went to Minx who was able to match his energy without it ever affecting her. Everyone else just got a few comments every now and then, but never anything incredibly rude.

Until it suddenly got directed all on you.

You had known Schlatt for some time, having met him through his online friend group while gaming one night. You had become acquainted quickly and you found yourself being excited whenever you knew you'd be playing or recording with him. It seemed like he felt the same way, or at least he was friendly and civil. That was until one recording when you were excitedly talking about something, he suddenly piped up to say, "Jesus, do you ever shut the fuck up?"

Everyone was laughing, so you figured it was just a joke, but it took you by surprise. You knew Schlatt was blunt, but it seemed completely out of nowhere when no one else seemed to mind your babble. You chuckled along with everyone, but you found yourself falling silent for the rest of the recording. Some of the others would include you in the conversation, but you only gave short answers.

After that, it seemed like Schlatt would be picking on you more and more. He rarely had anything nice to say to or about you. It became harder and harder to want to do recordings or streams when he was acting like that, and your mutual friends were starting to notice his continued bullying. It made everyone feel uncomfortable, even if he kept insisting it was just jokes.

It all came to a head when you were asked to do one of those "dating shows" on YouTube. It was you, Minx, Emma, and Jaiden, and Schlatt, Ted, Tanner, and Connor, with Jack hosting it. You weren't sure what the rules were or how the game was supposed to go down, but you loved watching the hilarity of other online "dating shows", and couldn't wait to be a part of it. You were a little weary of Schlatt's presence, but there were so many people involved that you figured you wouldn't get the brunt of his insults today.

Jack sent you the link for the Zoom call. You were one of the last people to join the call, so you were immediately met with a cacophony of overlapping voices. You chuckled to yourself at the familiar chaos. You adjusted your volume settings and positioned your webcam before turning it on.

A high pitched scream brought the conversations to a halt.

"What the fuck was that?" Jack said with a laugh.

"I think it was Schlatt," Ted said.

"Yeah it was me. Sorry, I just saw a jumpscare," Schlatt responded.

"What the fuck are you on about?" Minx asked.

"I saw (Y/N)'s ugly mug suddenly join the call and it scared me."

Everyone was silent. Your face burned and tears started to form in your eyes. Your body moved before your brain could register, your hand moving your mouse to click the "End Call" button. The moment everyone's faces disappeared, you allowed yourself to cry.

For all the hurtful stuff Schlatt had said, he had never gone after your appearance. It was one of your biggest insecurities because you felt like you didn't measure up to other female streamers. Sure, that was a cliche insecurity, but it was your truth. You marveled at how pretty all your friends were and would often mentally compare yourself to them. It wasn't something you had spoken publicly about, so obviously Schlatt didn't know he would touch a nerve, but it still felt like an extremely low blow. Especially for it to be the first thing you heard when you turned your camera on.

You sent Jack a message to apologize for leaving, but you told him you didn't feel up to doing the show anymore. He responded almost immediately to let you know that it was okay and he didn't blame you for your decision. You were shutting down your set up when your Discord started ringing; a voice call from Ted.

"Aren't you supposed to be recording?" you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

"We're taking a quick break while Jack decides if he wants Schlatt to compete anymore," Ted explained.

"Don't kick him off just because of me," you said.

"We don't really want him to play after what he said. It was incredibly fucked up and uncalled for."

"He's said worse to Minx."

"Yeah, but he and Minx have an understanding. We've all noticed that he makes fun of you, but you don't respond the way Minx does. I don't know what his problem is recently, but you don't deserve those insults. You're an incredibly kind person, unlike us assholes."

You chuckled through your tears. "You're not an asshole, Ted."

"I am sometimes, don't lie."

"Only a little bit." You wiped the fresh tears from your eyes and let out a shaky sigh. "I don't want to record with Schlatt anymore."

"I understand," Ted said. "I'll let everyone know, too."

"Thank you."

When you and Ted hung up, you sat back in your chair and took a deep breath. The sting from Schlatt's words was still strong, but you also felt some relief in having talking to Ted about it and him assuring you that you wouldn't have to record with Schlatt anymore. It still upset you that Schlatt made such a 180 when it seemed like you were both getting along so well, but you weren't going to wast anymore brain space on him.

Your phone buzzed from a Discord notification. You looked down at the screen to see Schlatt was trying to send you a message. Instead of reading it, you went to his Discord profile and blocked him.

~~~~~~

It was easier than you thought to forget about Schlatt and his insults. All your friends did as you asked didn't invite you to recordings if Schlatt was a part of them, or vice versa with him. You went on to block him on all social media, and even muting his channels on YouTube so you wouldn't risk seeing him in your recommended. It was like he never existed, and you didn't even care.

You were in the middle of editing a video when a knock came at your door. You assumed it was the Uber Eats you had ordered, so you saved your progress and got up to answer. Instead of finding a delivery guy, you came face to face with the man you had been avoiding for weeks.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. "Wait, better question, how do you know where I live?"

"I bothered Ted until he told me," Schlatt responded.

You rolled your eyes. "Ted's dead to me."

You went to close the door, but Schlatt's hand shot out to block the door. You scowled at him. "Take the hint, Schlatt. I don't want to see you."

"I know you don't, and I get why, but please let me explain and apologize."

"I don't want to hear what you have to say. Honestly, you don't even deserve to take up my time to try and give some shitty explanation for your shitty behavior."

"I know - "

"You really hurt me," you cut him off. "I took the insults in silence because I knew you poked fun at everyone, but they really hurt me. It got to a point where I was dreading having to interact with you every time someone invited to a Discord call and I saw that you were in there too."

"(Y/N) - "

"And then you called me ugly in a call in front of everyone and that hurt the most. I know it shouldn't have given how much else you've said to me, but my looks are one of my biggest insecurities, and I know you probably didn't know that but still, going after how I look was such a low blow. And it hurts so much because I thought we were friends, but suddenly you're insulting me and bullying me at every chance you get, and it almost felt worse than the way you act with Minx so how am I supposed to take it as anything other than you not liking me and - "

Your rambling was finally cut off by Schlatt taking hold of your face and pulling you into him. You were shocked when you felt his lips against yours. Your initial reaction was to pull away and to start yelling at him again, but suddenly your brain switched to tell you lean into it. So you did. You pressed into Schlatt as much as you could; your body against his, your hands on his hoodie, standing on your toes so you could reach him.

Also to your surprise, Schlatt was the one to pull away first. He rested his forehead against yours, keeping his face inches apart from yours.

"That was one way to get me to stop talking," you joked.

He smiled. "Seemed to be the most effective way."

"So, are you about to tell me the reason you were being mean to me is because you liked me? Because if so, that is a very elementary school explanation."

"Unfortunately, that is the reason."

You pulled away from Schlatt and finally gestured for him to come in. You realized you had been standing in the doorway this whole time, and now that you had somewhat calmed down, you figured you'd listen to his explanation. You were much more intrigued now after your kiss, although you were far from completely forgiving him for what had happened.

You led Schlatt to your living room and you both sat down on the couch. You were very much aware of how close you two were sat. His body was inches away from yours. You could be touching him again if you wanted to.

"I was trying to push you away," he said, bringing you back to the topic at hand. "I was afraid you wouldn't like me back, and it felt easier to make you hate me than to risk that rejection."

"No offense, but that's a really stupid idea."

He chuckled. "Yeah, no offense taken because you're right. I should've just talked to you about it like an adult instead of assuming you would've rejected me. I thought the easier route would be to make you hate me, but then that succeeded and I realized how much I missed getting to talk to you. Not to sound too corny or anything, but everything felt empty when you weren't around. I knew I fucked up majorly, and I tried to apologize that night after what happened, but you blocked me on everything and I realized just how far I had actually gone."

You thought back to the call you had with Ted that day when everything had come to a head with Schlatt. "Did you not tell Ted how you felt?"

"Not until I begged him for your address. Listen, I love Ted and all, but the dude has a big fuckin' mouth. He would've let it slip one way or another how I feel about you, and I didn't want that. Actually, no one knew. I kept it to myself completely."

"You're an idiot. You know that, right?"

He nodded. "I'm more than well aware, yes."

"And you know it's going to take more than just kissing me and apologizing to completely redeem yourself? I understand why you acted the way you did, as stupid as it was, but it still really hurt me. I'm not going to forget everything just because you were being stupid."

"I don't expect you to. All I wanted was to explain myself and hope that you'd give me a second chance. I'm serious, (Y/N), I don't think I can just not have you in my life. If you don't want to date, that's fine. I'm okay with something platonic, as long as I have you."

You smiled and finally dared to reach out and touch him. You took his hand in yours, running your thumb over his knuckles. You then dared to lean forward and capture his mouth with yours in a quick, gentle kiss. When you pulled away, Schlatt had a smile on his face. You mirrored it with a smile of your own.

"You'll have to work for forgiveness," you told him. "You can start by taking me out on a date."

"Done," he said. "Right now?"

You giggled. "Maybe tomorrow. I was actually in the middle of editing a video when you came, and I have Uber Eats on the way."

As if on cue, there was a knock at your door.

"That would be it."

"Can I stay and hang out while you edit?" Schlatt asked.

"Of course. But I'm not sharing my food with you."

"Oh, you have no choice. You invited me in and let me stay, therefore you're sharing your food."

"You know what? Go fuck yourself, I take back everything I said."

You exclaimed and giggled as he suddenly grabbed you and pulled you to him. "Too late! No take backs! You're stuck with me for a very long time, toots."

[hausbabylon]

soul bounds disentwined

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Word count: 5,546

Warnings: A little angsty, I guess? And ofc Reader having a crush on Billy's mom not knowing if it's reciprocated.

A/N: This is inspired in Halsey's music video "Colors", if you have watched it, you can see where this is gonna go...

A/N: For plot purposes, let’s suppose Infinity War and subsequent events never happened, and instead, after the Civil War, Wanda decided to quit her life as a superhero. Part II coming soon!

Wanda Maximoff hired you -a photographer who urgently needed a fresh start- to capture the dishes that would be featured in her second cookbook. Her son, Billy Maximoff, interfered with what you two could have developed. He had feelings for you, and well, you had feelings for his mother.

According to Forbes (2023), Wanda Maximoff secured the third position among the wealthiest chefs worldwide. She is a living proof that we are all capable of rewriting our own story, even after a lifetime shaped by external influences.

Simone Carlisle (Culinary Arts Teacher): Ah, Wanda Maximoff… (pauses) let me tell you, no one prepares you for that feeling, where you find out that you contributed your seed to the plants of successes that one of your students planted in the garden of her life.

Wanda Maximoff (Chef, restaurant chain owner, and television presenter): For as long as I can remember, my decisions were a cycle of revenge and redemption... don't get me wrong, I don't regret beating the shit out of some idiots (laughs), but, with the busy life I led, the only moment I could pause my life was while I was hiding in Scotland with my ex-boyfriend Vision. I had no one expecting anything from me, no one telling me what to do, where to go, it was like a puppy without an owner.

Vision (Avenger, Wanda Maximoff’s ex-partner): Dear, was it a journey. First, I remember that she watched YouTube videos to learn guitar. As soon as she woke up, she grabbed the instrument, and she wasn't satisfied until her fingers got numb. In a very short time, she caught the hang of it, and played for the first time in a small bar. No one knew who she was, and if they did, they probably didn't care. She was just a talented player keeping them entertained. Afterwards, band members fought over who would give her their contact first to join them. I thought that would be the beginning of a very successful music career, because from what I've read, international artists started that way.

Wanda Maximoff: I said, “Vision, I’m never doing this again”.

Vision: She kept practicing, playing in the solitude of her room, of course. It was a hobby-kind-of-passion, not the type of passion she would like to dedicate most of her life to. She went through many of those to realize that her main passion was under her nose all along.

Wanda Maximoff: The courage to join in culinary classes arose from desperation (chuckles), I used to prepare recipes at home, and I needed someone else's approval… it couldn't come from someone who didn't even eat in the first place! And so the beginning of my trayectory was paved by this amazing teacher, Simone Carlisle.

Simone Carlisle: The shy girl who during the intensive course kept her head down, sitting on the back corner, nervously playing with her rings while ignoring whispers and glances from other students, is now in a big framed picture, placed in the most visible spot so that everyone who enters my academy knows that I taught this legend. She made my small business a huge deal now (laughs).

Wanda Maximoff: I never imagined that I would have my own cookbook, television program, or chain of restaurants, let alone all three at the same time! At first, I was content with cooking in a restaurant and earning a decent living, but later, I thought about the possibility of creating a YouTube channel, which subsequently permitted me to finance the publication of my book. Building on the success of my book, the opportunity of my show emerged, which in turn allowed me to open my first restaurant, and ultimately expand it into a chain of restaurants. What I want to convey is that you must trust that the love for what you do is a powerful tool. Success is subjective, so pursue your own concept of it.

Amy Lee (Evanescence’s lead singer and songwriter): It was a hard day of work. I didn’t feel like cooking but I was looking for the homiest, most comforting food possible, and Wanda Maximoff made it a reality with her restaurant located just a few blocks near me. I told my bandmate, Emma, about this amazing food restaurant, she replied, "Oh, the owner has a YouTube channel and a show, you should watch it so that you don't overcook the spaghetti" (laughs). It has been a great help to me ever since, for those are creative but accessible recipes. Plus, it’s a nice touch that she uses her magic to manipulate ingredients and utensils, while making you laugh with her witty jokes. The best way to put it is; she makes you feel like it's a close and sweet friend who is teaching you. Her human and warm approach felt and still feels like a pat on the back.

Wanda Maximoff: My favorite singer since adolescence, Amy Lee, has said something about me that fills me with happiness every time I remember it. She helped me cope, I helped her cook. We're even now.

Vision: You see, Wanda's powers went from being a source of fear in the world to being the main reason why said fear stopped as well. An impressive understanding in her abilities, still doesn't make her an expert, as she can't prevent unexpected situations.

Wanda Maximoff: I was six months pregnant. In the blink of an eye… literally.

The latest legacy of the Maximoff family, twins Billy and Tommy, were effortlessly admitted to Princeton University. The dean was left speechless, for their admission exam grades exceeded expectations.

Tony Stark (Avenger, Stark Industries): With Wanda, our initial connection was through business, the Avengers, you know? It wasn't until she asked me if I could offer her kids an internship at Stark Industries that we developed a closer bond, and man, were those kids geniuses!

Wanda Maximoff: Those kids... one day, they'll outgrow me (laughs). They were so eager to rush through life stages, and I thought, "You don't realize I would give everything to relive those joyful years," but I know better than to project my own frustrations on my sons.

Virginia "Pepper" Potts (Stark Industries): One day, I said goodbye to two fourteen-year-old boys. The next day, Happy informed me that some tall adults with raspy voices, claiming to be Billy and Tommy, wanted to come in. I immediately phoned Wanda, and she casually responded, "Oh, yeah, they can do that," as if maturing into college students overnight was a typical Tuesday occurrence for any teenager.

Thomas Maximoff, (Student at Princeton, son of Wanda Maximoff): What can I say? (chuckles) school didn't present any intellectual challenges for us, and, yes, they do admit child prodigies for... PhDs even! But, we wanted to blend in, to share the same age as our classmates.

Wanda Maximoff: I always considered it a priority to spend time with my boys, so I put a lot of my work on hold, including my second cookbook project. Now that they're focusing on college and their internship, I've had too much time, and by that I mean too much time to finish that unfinished work.

Wanda Maximoff had completed her second cookbook, in response to numerous requests from her loyal fans. Another book that promised to aid all those who seeked a different, quick, and above all, delicious meal at any time of the day. There was no doubt that it would become a global bestseller, just like her previous one.

All that was left were the illustrative photographs for the book, and the studio where you worked at was in charge of this task.

You meticulously made the first dish she cooked appear as exquisite as in real life. You employed several tools like lighting, background elements, and cutlery placement, but you never altered the food in any way, it didn't even cross your mind to do so. This didn't sit well with your boss, but it certainly pleased the redhead.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) (Photographer): I remember my boss suggested that I add components to the food to make it look more appealing. I responded that that was the equivalent of encouraging unattainable stereotypes of beauty... in food (chuckles).

Wanda Maximoff: By offering unrealistic references, people would be discouraged to notice that their result was not the same as mine, not knowing that those references have hours of strategy to make it look 'aesthetic'. I prefer to show it as it is (pauses) I think that's why I liked this girl, I didn't have to say a word and she understood everything.

Your boss was the typical man who didn't let newcomers like you progress. Although you had been working in the studio for about six months, he never allowed you to touch a camera, which was contradictory because that was the job you applied for.

You did the work he didn't want to do, like transporting, positioning and removing the equipment, and setting up the scenery. That idiot just did the angles and clicked the top right button, and then took all the credit and praise. It annoyed you, yes, but unlike him, you didn't need praise from anyone to fill your ego, you just wanted to be acknowledged for your own efforts and not to be another person’s side kick.

In the meantime, it was enough satisfaction to know that none of the praise he gets would be possible without you, and he knew it…

… and Wanda knew it.

"What do you think, Miss Maximoff?" Your boss showed Wanda the array of photographs he took of the latest dish. He proudly displayed them, awaiting for a compliment from the redhead.

"Wow, (Y/N), placing the sautéed potatoes in a separate bowl instead of alongside the food within the same dish... you were right, it gives them their own protagonism and importance as a side dish," was the first thing she said, eliciting a small blush from you. "Great work!"

"Thank you, Miss Maximoff," after hearing her words, you experimented a feeling that was somewhat unfamiliar to you. It made you feel visible, truly seen and acknowledged in a workplace that often overlooked such things. And the fact that it came from her, made it all even more so profound.

"It's just Wanda," she corrected you, as if her previous actions weren't enough, she gave you the green light to address her in a more intimate manner. Along with that, your boss was already frustrated enough at not being the center of attention for two and a half hours. It was all a dream!

"(Y/N), we're done here, remove the equipment and take it to my car. I'll be waiting for you for just five minutes," your boss ordered you. Not even a ‘please’, nothing. In his gaze was evident that desperate attempt to look intimidating, which only made him look like a tantruming child. However, when his gaze turned to the older woman, he held an incredible admiration and appreciation, almost as if they were two different people in the same body. "Miss Maximoff, it was a pleasure working with you, truly an honor. We could continue next week...”

"Do you have equipment of your own, (Y/N)?" She interrupted him in mid-sentence, and you hesitated briefly.

"Uh... yes, of course, Miss... I mean, Wanda," you replied.

You worked as a freelance photographer in your spare time, capturing people or events here and there. It was something relatively stable, but it could not be your main income, so you felt the need to work on a studio.

"Perfect... I'll be contacting only you so we can work on the rest of the illustrations for the book," she stated.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I couldn't believe what I heard! The first thing I did was begging to whatever force there is that this wasn't a dream. It was overwhelming, the feeling of fear and ecstasy… Wanda wanted ME to work with her.

She recognized something in you within three and a half hours that others failed to see in six months. This was it. This was the big break you had been waiting for, the opportunity to show your skills and make your mark.

That being said, you never saw your boss, or stepped foot in that studio after that.

In the days that followed, you poured your heart and soul into preparing for the upcoming shoots.

You studied Wanda's previous cookbooks, familiarizing yourself with her style, her preferences. You even watched her program and her interviews, initially with the excuse of seeing those mesmerizing eyes and delighting yourself with her beauty, but you actually learned a lot of cooking techniques that you were excited to cook when it was such an annoying task for you to do.

When the day of the shoot finally arrived, you were ready. You set up your equipment with a confidence you had never felt before. You positioned the reflectors so that the natural light would bounce where you needed it, and set the scene to make the food appealing and motivating. Wanda watched you work, her eyes filled with admiration and respect.

You smiled at her as you turned on your camera, “So, what do you do with all this food after I photograph it?” You questioned curiously.

"I pack it, multiply it with my powers, and give it to the homeless," she explained. "It's something I often do, in fact, but I prefer to keep good deeds a secret, and not brag about it," she added. “I would appreciate it if you don’t say anything.”

"I figured that about you," you smiled sympathetically.

"You figured?"

“You have always used your skills to help," you elaborated, and noticed she slightly scrunched her nose, as a way of disagreeing. "Yes, even when you were working for Hydra, Tony Stark was destroying territories left and right, and you were seeking justice, doing what you felt was right," you added, noticing how her face showed an expression of realization. "And now, you focus on helping people who struggle with thinking of a simple but good meal in the midst of a hectic routine, and not so much on showing off how good you are at cooking exotic dishes. So yes, I assumed you would also help those who can't even afford a meal, too.”

Wanda's gaze was lost in the white marble of her kitchen floor, and you knew you gave her a new perspective on the wrongs she had done in her past. She meant well all along, and ultimately, that's what mattered. She was a great person in the present, and that's what mattered.

"So, you're the photographer in question," a tall, curly-haired guy stepped into the kitchen doorway, interrupting the train of thought of the woman in front of you.

You laughed at the expression on her face as reality hit her again.

"Oh, yes. Sweetheart, this is (Y/N)," she introduced you to who you already knew was her son. "And (Y/N), this is my son Billy."

"Nice to meet you, Billy," you replied, approaching him to offer your hand to shake.

"The pleasure is all mine," he emphasized the last words, as he accepted your hand. "My mom didn't mention that you were so beautiful."

Wanda cleared her throat, and proceeded to look at him with surprise in her eyes. In a I-can’t-believe-you-said-that way.

You couldn't help but laugh again at how expressive she was without noticing it.

But in their perspective, from how you looked the other direction and chuckled softly, you seemed to snicker at Billy's flattery, which couldn't be further from the truth. He was corny and predictable, but most importantly, he was not Wanda Maximoff.

"Oh, forgive him, he still doesn't know how to control those sky-high hormones," Wanda said, grabbing Billy's shoulders from behind to guide him out of the kitchen.

You noticed that she was already shorter than her son by a few centimetres. This was nostalgic for any mother, but how must Wanda have felt watching it happen overnight? You were curious.

"No problem," you replied, and headed for the counter to begin photographing.

Billy entered the kitchen again, standing next to you, but not close enough to invade your space, which you thanked internally.

"Do you mind if I watch you work, (Y/N)?" Billy requested, and you smiled politely.

"Billy! Don't you have an internship to go to?" Wanda interfered before you could answer.

"Pepper and Tony organized a party at the tower," he replied victoriously.

"College homework?"

"Piece of cake. I finished it an hour ago."

“How about you enjoy your free time and go bowling with your brother?”

“He’s busy playing Fortnite online,” he shrugged.

Wanda rolled her eyes, "Behave yourself. That's the only condition."

"It's okay, Wanda," you reassured her. Each stage in a child's life is gradual, and parents usually have many years to learn about what each stage entails. It was understandable that Wanda didn't know what to do now that her children were suddenly old enough to drink and get into adult trouble.

"So, (Y/N), how long ago did you start this whole photography gig?" The taller guy spoke up, once you took your first picture.

"I've been doing it since I was thirteen," you replied, still capturing the image in before you at different angles. "Dedicating myself to this? As soon as I turned eighteen. I had a decent portfolio."

"I don't doubt it," he agreed.

You gave him a slight thankful smile, and walked over to Wanda, who was setting up the second dish to be photographed.

"What do you think?"You asked her, and it wasn't until she turned to look at the camera that you noticed that this is the closest you've ever been to her. You could smell her fragrance and hear her breathing. Your mind was screaming at you to move away, for you had no right to display such trust yet, on the contrary, your body needed to be as close as possible... to feel her.

You had never touched her, not even when she greeted you this afternoon. She simply opened her door and let you enter.

"Excellent. The blueberries next to the gluten-free blueberry pancakes are wet,” she commented. “Did you do it to provide a sense of freshness?" She inquired, looking into your eyes this time, and... the charm of her green eyes was incomparable.

Throughout life, you've seen different shades of green, but hers were unique. They seemed to have a whole story to tell, as if she gave them that power. Her eyes glowed with an emerald hue that mesmerized anyone who met her gaze, and you were no exception.

“Exactly, that’s what I did,” you confirmed, and you felt your cheeks burning, which you immediately hid by looking down and walking back to the counter.

The only interactions you had with Wanda were to get her to approve your photographs, since her son didn’t allow you both a second to talk. He didn’t cease to ask you all sorts of questions, and to keep the conversation going, you responded with brief 'and you?'s so that he still felt heard and had the space to reveal details about himself.

It was all natural for you. Your work was also based on creating a liveliness in the environment where you performed, plus you got more genuine reactions from people if you made them laugh and feel comfortable. However, you always ended up talking with whoever was willing to, even if you were not there to capture them.

In fact, you were enjoying the conversation with such a charismatic guy. At first, it felt overwhelming, but just by letting the topics flow, you ended up laughing and feeling more at ease with him. In any case, you would be meeting him more than once in the eight weeks that remained before the project was completed.

Once you had finished photographing the ten dishes for the week, you turned off your camera and put it back in its case.

You were too happy with the results. This was all done by you alone, and you would be recognized for it. Never again would your boss's name appear under the pictures that were all your doing. The moment Wanda sends your photographs to the publisher, your name would appear in the book credits, and so a new story would begin.

And Wanda... oh, Wanda made it so clear that she loved your work, and paid so much attention to detail. Not only did she praise you, but she made it a point to let you know that she had indeed noticed the details that to the average eye would go unnoticed. You didn't know if you were really developing a crush, or if it was just the fact that she was an older woman that satisfied that need for attention that you rarely got... or it could be both.

When you were working on your own, you didn't feel exhausted and drained despite the long working hours, unlike when you were in the studio. You were very grateful that Wanda had given you another opportunity like that, and you were confident that it could become a regular thing.

"Wow, seeing all these dishes without having eaten lunch has really made me hungry," you laughed, proceeding to remove the reflectors from the kitchen’s window. The sky was still clear. You started at a perfect timing to take advantage of natural light.

"You haven't eaten? Look at the time! I thought you had eaten before you came!" She exclaimed. The redhead actually looked concerned. "Do you have any idea of the damage you're doing to your body? You need energy for this kind of work."

"Hey, I wanted to make a joke and you ruined it with your lecture," you protested.

Wanda sighed, and shook her head disapprovingly, which made your heart crumble a little.

“I… I’ll get some food on the way home,” you corrected yourself.

"How about you stay for dinner? I was going to make it, Tommy won't be long before he comes back to the real world and notices he's hungry," she offered kindly.

"Oh! Or I can take you out for dinner somewhere nice!" Billy proposed, smiling at you with anticipation.

To be brutally honest, you wanted to throw yourself at him and choke him so no other words would come out of his mouth. You knew Billy was just a guy with a silly crush, excited to show you how interested he was in you. He wasn't trying to do any harm. But, hell, wasn't it enough for him to be the center of your attention all afternoon?

"I'm really looking forward to trying something made by your mom," you declined in the politest way possible. "Many people would kill for that honor!"

Wanda let out a laugh, and her expression also seemed to change as she heard your decision to stay.

But, oh, Billy, Billy, Billy... as persevering as his mother.

"Awww! Next week she'll cook you something, right mom?" he insisted, and even though the redhead tried hard to keep her smile, her eyes changed.

"Sure, I'll cook whatever you want," Wanda sighed. "Go with Billy, and continue your conversation... alone," the way she said that last word was as if she had felt like the third wheel all afternoon, as if she was a hindrance to whatever was starting between you and Billy.

"You owe me," you said to Wanda, letting her know implicitly that you were looking forward to your meeting next week, not this dinner with Billy.

Billy led you to the garage of his house, and opened the passenger door of a black car. You thanked him politely and got in, allowing him to close the door for you. The car was completely spotless, and had a new car smell, but not because it was new, maybe because that was the fragrance he asked for at the car wash. For yours, you always opted for lavender… which made you wonder, what fragance did Wanda like for her car?

"Any preferences?" Billy asked once he hoped in the driver’s seat, pointing towards the car radio. It was noticeable he was doing his best to make this comfortable for you.

"A little bit of everything, how about rock like... Evanescence?" you proposed.

"Ah, my mom loves them," he commented, and your eyes lit up at that statement.

"You're kidding..."

"Yeah, since her teenage years," he confirmed. "Evanescence, In This Moment, Epica, Lacuna Coil..." he listed, trying to remember them all.

You made a mental note to put on that music on your next meeting with Wanda. It wouldn't be hard, as you loved all the bands he mentioned, which was wonderful.

You couldn't wait to show her the latest bands, ask her her favorite songs, and have a topic of conversation that would allow you to bound...

"So, ready?" he spoke, noticing that you were lost in thought.

"Yeah, sure," you nodded, putting on your seatbelt.

The dinner was... better than you expected. In fact, it was amazing.

You didn't really have anything in common with Billy, but the way you both listened to each other, and always found a middle ground despite going your separate ways, made the experience with him extremely pleasant.

The only difference was that, as you each went home, he thought about seeing you again, and you thought about seeing his mother again.

And so, after a week, you found yourself in front of the door of Wanda's house, with your camera hanging from your neck, your equipment already waiting on the pavement next to your parked car, and as a bonus, a speaker you brought along to play music while you worked.

Alone, at last...

When the door opened, you found the redhead wearing a casual outfit consisting of dark blue jeans and a black half-tucked in blouse. Oh, and her face, how you missed that face.

"Hey..." You greeted her, with palpable enthusiasm.

"Hi," she replied, and noticed the speaker in your hand, arching her eyebrow. "I found out last week that you and I have a lot of bands in common."

Wanda let out a gasp of surprise, "Oh, please do come in!"

You laughed briefly, and as you were about to enter your equipment to take it towards the kitchen, Wanda snapped her fingers, and it disappeared.

"Wanda, what the hell?" You exclaimed, looking at her with your widened eyes, had she just disappeared all your belongings?

"Relax, they're in the kitchen."

"That skill of yours would’ve come in handy last week too," you commented, walking into her house.

"It was fun watching you run in and out," she shrugged. "But today you earned it, because of the music."

"I see, I have to earn it?!" You exclaimed, feigning indignation. Really, she could have pulverized your expensive equipment in front of you, and you'd still thank her.

Once both of you entered the kitchen, your reflectors were already in the same position as always. And on the other side, the ten dishes were already hot and ready to be photographed.

"And what would I possibly have to do next week to earn that help from you?" you asked, resuming the topic you had discussed earlier.

"Mmmm..." she muttered, in a way that almost made you weak in the knees. She watched you from head to toe making you feel exposed to her as if she had ripped your clothes to shreds and left you standing there, naked and at her mercy. But you were still completely covered. "... I think you've earned it,” your reaction alone was enough reward to her.

“Thanks, I guess,” you cleared your throat.

You picked up the speaker, and turned it on, placing it in a place in the kitchen where it would not interfere. Your hands were shaking, and you could have sworn that Wanda was watching you with amusement, while you avoided her gaze at all costs.

You grabbed your phone, and played the playlist you had prepared for this moment. "A Star-Crossed Wasteland" by In This Moment was the first to come on.

"Oh, I love that song like you have no idea," Wanda exclaimed, closing her eyes and frowning as she passionately listened to that intro. "That album, in general..."

"It's in my top three," you commented.

"Hell yeah! Now we're talking!" She exclaimed, raising her hand offering you a high-five.

"I'm not that old school," you shook your head, chuckling.

Wanda rolled her eyes, and took your wrist, giving herself a high five with your hand.

"Good girl," she praised you, and you swallowed dryly. At the words, and at the fact that this was the first time you'd ever touched her. "What's your top three?" she asked, acting so nonchalantly after flustering the hell out of you.

“Tell me yours first,” you proposed. You couldn’t even think of your favorite three albums of one of your favorite bands.

"Black Widow, GODMODE, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland, she answered, almost without thinking. It amused you to imagine she'd spent her whole life for someone to ask her that question. "And yours?"

"Black Widow is my favorite, too," you agreed. "Blood, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland."

"Oh, two in common and in the same position," she pointed out, smiling. "If the new album hadn't been so good, it would agree with Blood, too…”

For the rest of the evening, the focus was on your favorite bands, as they played in the background.

You finished faster than last week, as Wanda was willing to use her powers for you to just arrange the background and take the pictures, instead of searching in every corner of the kitchen - you only had to ask, and it appeared.

“Alright, we're done...” she concluded, excited. “Now, let me pack this food and put it in the fridge,” and with a snap of her fingers, it was already packed and subsequently perfectly placed inside the fridge.

“Impressive,” you exclaimed, not ceasing to show your admiration, just like every time she used her powers. If you didn't look so cute, Wanda would have grown irritated at you a long time ago.

“Now, I owe you a dinner,” she said. She never told you, but she was so eager to finish quickly because that way, when her sons returned from the internship, you and her would have spent a significant time together.

The food Wanda made for you was... you didn’t even believe that the accurate word to describe it even existed.

The sensations you experimented had you mindlessly closing your eyes, trying to memorize this magnificent meal, absorbing it all in. You had tried a lot of different restaurants and foods, but none like this, oh they wished they were even close to what you tasted.

This was more than just eating. It was a demonstration of peak exquisite cuisine. This was about more than just sating hunger. It was about the delight of tasting food prepared with passion.

And... just as Wanda was leading you out of the door, you noticed that it opened, and you met who you knew was Tommy.

"Oh, finally I have the pleasure to meet the famous (Y/N)," was the first thing he said. So Wanda... "Billy hasn't shut up about you."

You forced a smile, "That's... nice," you hesitated. "I have a feeling he's going to be a great friend, and I hope you are too."

Tommy noted the intent of your response but decided to reply, "Of course," with a small chuckle. "In fact, you should come play tennis with us next Saturday."

"Oh, I don't know how to..."

"I'll teach you," Wanda quickly interjected, and that hope in her eyes made your decision easier in an instant.

"Well... will you send me the address?" I asked.

"Rest assured."

When you said goodbye to Wanda and Tommy, Billy was climbing the steps to the doorway, and he smiled broadly at you.

"Hi, (Y/N)!" He exclaimed happily. "Have you eaten yet? If not, we can go eat something and catch up."

Oh, how kind he was...

"Thank you, your mom and I already had dinner."

It was Saturday, and you were walking around the room in your apartment. Your best friend, Kate, was already starting to get dizzy.

"Kate! It's a country club!" You exclaimed, for probably the twentieth time. "People there probably eat pizza with silverware, and know the use of all ten thousand kinds of forks. I won't fit in..."

"It's just a tennis game! I'd understand if it was golf, but tennis?! You'll be fine!" She groaned.

"I look ridiculous..." you shook your head, looking at yourself in the mirror. "I mean, what is this cap? And why all white? Am I getting baptized or something?"

"Hey! Do you want to fit in? This is the outfit," she countered. "You look hot, surely Wanda will drool over you when she sees those legs," she cheered you up

"Surely it will be Billy," you sighed, disappointed.

"Wanda too, from what you've told me..."

"No, this is one of the situations where I'm misinterpreting a hint of validation from an older, beautiful woman," you quickly denied. "And as always, my best friend is encouraging my delusions."

"Really? Name one situation."

"That Italian woman who I photographed with her family for several Christmas sessions?"

"Ha! She looked at you funny."

"Yeah, that's why she turned down my invitation to dinner when I finally found the courage, saying I knew she had a husband and kids."

"Uhm... she refused just because she had a husband and kids, not because she didn't like you!" She quickly justified, and you couldn't help but laugh, forgetting for a moment the nerves that were eating at you.

[autistpride]

AUTISM ACCEPTANCE

Teacher AU from April's prompts by @wolfstarmicrofic

Wordcount: 998

Remus had been waiting for this day for years. Nearly a decade, but the waitlist was seven years long and he was low on the priority list because he wasn’t in a mental health crisis and had a somewhat stable home and job situation, but after nine years, he finally got the calls.

Remus first began to suspect he might be autistic when he began teaching. Remus taught at the primary level, year one, and all of the students in his class were autistic. He related to his students and seemed to understand them on a level most of the other teachers could not. He spent his own money changing his room up, buying sensory tools and various items. In the end his students thrived and Remus was so proud of them.

As the years passed, Remus gained a reputation for being quirky, odd, and a bit too into the fandom for the book series he was into. But despite being a bit of a “loner” and not developing much of a relationship with his coworkers, Remus was beloved by his students and as a result, their families.

Remus set up his assessments during the half term, or tried too, but his final meeting was during a school day and that was unfortunately unable to be rescheduled due to the psychologists busy schedule. 

Remus explained to his students the day before his appointment that he would not be at the classroom Friday morning. He would be at a doctor’s appointment and they would have a substitute teacher until lunch time. Naturally they had questions, as all curious children do.

“Mr. Lupin, are you sick?”

“No, Hermione, I’m not sick. Just a meeting.” 

“Do you promise you’ll be back at lunch time to get us from the playground?”

“Yes, Harry, I promise. I will be standing at the side ready to collect you from the playground at the end of your break.”

“Do you have a baby in you?”

This one caused Remus to snort. “No Ron, I don’t have a baby in my belly. I know you have a little sister coming soon though huh?” Remus asked the boy who beamed and nodded. 

“Are you going to die?”

“No I am absolutely not dying, Draco. You don’t have to worry. You are going to be stuck with me all year!” Remus said in a low tone crouched down and wiggling his fingers like a monster.

This caused a bout of giggles from the young children and Remus chuckled before helping them pack up for the day.

Friday morning he rose early, packed everything he needed for the day, and rode the bus the hour to the city. He sat and listened as the psychologist explained he did in fact meet the criteria for autism and after years of waiting, he was officially diagnosed. The psychologist explained that it wasn’t uncommon for trans males to go undiagnosed their whole lives because many doctors were biassed against females as well as people of colour. They kept asking if Remus was okay, if he was upset or needed any support because they knew that hearing this information was a lot. 

But Remus just felt relief and peace. He finally felt like it all made since, his whole life

The bus ride back to the village Remus teared up as he texted his best friend Lily that he got it and she replied instantly with many hugs and heart emojis and then a message saying that she knew he would and that she was proud of him.

Remus walked from the bus stop to the school and buzzed in through the staff entrance in the back with his badge. He placed all his stuff in his locker in the staff lounge, made sure his badge was the right way on his lanyard, and made his way to the enclosed play area where his students would be.

Slowly, one at a time, his students noticed his arrival and ran around finding the other classmates to tell them that he was there. Then without warning they screamed and ran over to him, tackling him with hugs, causing Remus to laugh as he hugged them back.

Soon the students were all lining up to go back into the classrooms, but Remus was confused, the substitute wasn’t there. He asked where Mr. Black was and Luna said that he stayed behind because he had something he had to do in the classroom since Mr. Lupin would be there to get them. Remus was confused and puzzled because he had prepared all the materials for the day’s lessons and there was nothing that needed to be prepared during the lunch period. 

They made their way back to the classroom in a line, Remus walking backwards like a professional at this point, directing his students in their songs for things like planets, continents and oceans, and skip counting as they walked. They entered the classroom one at a time ahead of him and when he turned to walk through the doorway he froze.

His entire classroom was decorated for a party, his students sitting on the reading rug holding onto little drawings. In the back, Sirius held up a small cake. “Congratulations!” written on the whiteboard in Sirius’ beautiful loopy cursive. 

Remus’ hands quickly covered his mouth in surprise as he looked around and took it all in. “Oh,” he whispered.

“Class what do we say to Mr. Lupin?” Sirius asked with a cheeky grin.

The entire class erupted into screams of “ONE OF US! ONE OF US!” 

Remus threw his head back and laughed despite the happy tears that welled in his eyes. 

Remus had never felt confident before in his life. Never felt like he actually fit someplace before until now. 

And if he bit his lip to try to hide his smirk and raised his eyebrows at Sirius when he had Sirius’ number in his phone after years of pining, well who could blame him. 

[sxcret-garden]

5th Desire ღ Dress [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ words: ~7.2k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho (soft dom to glimpses of hard dom… he’s going thru it ok kasjdflka), sub!reader, clothed sex, dry humping, body worship, a bit of breast play, he gets a little possessive, praise, pain kink, hair pulling, biting, spanking, unprotected sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, reader going into subspace, dacryphilia) ღ warnings: heavy dom-sub dynamics (him pulling reader’s hair), reader’s mother has very traditional values and a toxic view on beauty standards, reader’s body is commented on once

Desc.: Your mother is trying to get you to wear a dress she picked out for you for your cousin’s upcoming wedding. At times like these you are especially thankful to have your boyfriend Jongho right by your side to help convince her to let you wear clothes you’re actually comfortable in. However, little do you know that despite having your back, he’s secretly smitten with the image of you in that dress.

← prev chapter ღ next chapter →

As soon as you get home that day, you make your way straight to the sofa, and without even saying a word you plop down on it. You letting out a huge sigh as you allow your frame to crash into your boyfriend’s side while he’s focusing on a video game makes him chuckle, and when you rest your head against his shoulder and you close your eyes, you can feel the onset of a headache. 

“Your shopping date with your mom was a success I assume?” he asks, sarcastically, yet the smile on his face stays visible. A glance at the tv in front of you tells you he’s playing with friends, their in-game nicknames displayed in the corner of the screen. 

“For who?” you retort.

“For her,” he laughs, and you say nothing until he finishes the current round. Picking up his phone, he types up a quick message in their group chat, telling them to go on without him, and after closing the game, he turns his attention to you fully. “You look really tired. Was it that bad?” he asks, now putting an arm around your shoulders and leaning against the backrest of the sofa, so you could snuggle up to him more comfortably. 

“It was… exhausting,” you mumble, your eyelids fluttering shut. 

“Wanna tell me about it?” Upon hearing his question, you bury your face in his chest and you let out the most pained groan you can muster, followed by Jongho letting out yet another soft laugh, “So no.”

“Just…” You sit up eventually, now resting your elbows on top of your legs and massaging the bridge of your nose with your thumb and index finger in hopes the pending headache would go away. “Why does she want me to wear a dress so badly? It’s fine if I go in pants, isn’t it?”

“I mean, you should wear something fitting for the occasion. It’s your cousin’s wedding after all,” he says. “Whether that’s a dress or a suit doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“My mom keeps saying it’ll look dumb if we’re both in a suit,” you mumble, and your boyfriend lets out a noise of disapproval.

“Should I wear a dress instead, then?” he jokes and manages to make you laugh with the mental image. 

“Backless please,” you chime in. “And with lots of frill.” A huff of disbelief escapes him as he looks away, and you find yourself grinning. “No, but seriously,” you then say. “I don’t know how many times I told her that I don’t like wearing dresses in public. I just don’t like how they feel, but she keeps insisting…” You sigh, pulling out your phone and opening your camera roll. “See? I don’t even think they suit me that much,” you continue, while you show a picture of you in one of the dresses your mother had made you try on to your boyfriend. 

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows at the rare sight. “I think it suits you though?”

“Whatever…” you sigh. “I mean… thanks I guess? But…”

“Yeah, I know,” he reassures you before you even have to say anything. “If you don’t like wearing them, you really shouldn’t have to.” 

“Yeah…” you agree, before lying down and curling up on the sofa, putting your feet up on his lap. Another sigh follows as the headache is still present, and to be perfectly honest all you want to do is forget about that stupid wedding. Well, not entirely. It’s not like you don’t want to go. You’ve been fairly close with your cousin when you were children, and even though you’ve been out of touch for a few years now, you still really want to be there for when she gets to marry the man she loves. 

Just not in a goddamn dress.

“Should we… maybe try talking to your parents together, then?” Jongho’s suggestion tears you out of your thoughts. 

“We?” you repeat.

“I mean…” he clears his throat, “They like me, right? Maybe they’ll listen to me…” You give him a long and thorough look. “Maybe not…?” he adds, but you shake your head, sitting back up.

“No, that might actually not be such a bad idea. I mean… it’s true that my mom really likes you… and you know how to get people to do what you want…” He can only let out a sheepish chuckle at your last words. “Yeah, let’s do that. My mom asked me if I want to come over for coffee next Wednesday anyway. I’m sure she won’t mind if I bring you along… if you’re free then?”

“Sure,” he says, once again putting his arm around you as he notices you slouching over. “Don’t worry too much about it, okay?”

The excitement radiating off of your mother’s face is apparent as always when she welcomes you and your boyfriend at the doorstep. She greets your boyfriend first, commenting on his nice outfit, and her expression changes ever so slightly when she gets to saying hi to you. 

“Such a handsome boyfriend you have…” she mutters at a volume where he would still hear, and with a flustered smile he turns around and bows in thanks.

“He is,” you agree, not knowing what to make of her words, and you feel yourself tensing up a bit. Is this already the thing she’ll use as a transition to the wedding outfit talk that you dread so much? Jongho notices your anxiety and he reaches out to take a hold of your hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“It’ll be fine, just trust me,” he whispers when your mother disappears in the next room, leaving you by yourselves as you’re taking off your shoes and you each grab a pair of slippers to wear inside the house instead. Your mother offers the two of you some coffee, calling you into the kitchen to help her prepare it - like a good wife, as she always makes sure to tell you - and Jongho doesn’t let the chance slip away to make himself useful too. Your mother seems overjoyed as she watches him snatching the cups away from you and carrying them out into the living room himself while shooting you a knowing look and you silently thank him for it. You reach for some milk instead and carry it to the table, and when all three of you have made yourselves more or less comfortable, with your beverages in front of you, she doesn’t leave you on edge too long.

“So, Y/N,” you suppress a shudder when she calls out to you, “have you decided which dress you want to wear yet?”

“Uhm… not yet,” you say, lowering your head.

“You know we have to order it a bit in advance,” your mother explains without hesitating. “You should make a decision by the end of the week.” You sigh, and as you’re about to say something, your boyfriend speaks up instead, pulling out his phone. On the screen you can see pictures of pantsuits just like the one you have in your closet. 

“If I’m allowed to interrupt - wouldn’t this suit Y/N much better?” Your mother seems about as dumbfounded by his bold move as you are, but you decide to do as he told you for now - to trust him. “A good friend of mine is a tailor, actually.” He clears his throat and then continues, “And that friend told me that a suit would look a lot better on someone with a figure like Y/N.”

“Oh… really?” your mother is hesitant to buy into what your partner is telling her, but she gives him the benefit of a doubt and keeps listening.

“Yes. Pants suit her shape a lot better than a skirt, and a well tailored suit will also make her look taller and give a more elegant expression.”

“Oh…” your mother gasps again, and then she takes another close look at the picture on your boyfriend’s phone. “You’re right.” Though the conversation you’re witnessing feels just a little bit uncomfortable to you, you’re definitely glad she seems to finally be convinced, and so you dare to speak up.

“Yes, that’s why it would make a much better image if I wore a suit, mom,” you add, finding her nodding at you. 

“Right, I didn’t see it that way,” she says, seemingly fascinated by the image of the model in the suit. Directed at you, she asks, “Is that why you don’t want to wear a dress to the wedding? Because you’re worried about what others might say about how you look in it?”

“Yeah,” you lie.

“Hmm… well, I suppose this is probably the better choice then…” You gulp at her words, and as you remind yourself that this is all for the greater good, you swallow the bitter taste in your mouth that the conversation is leaving you with. You grew up always having her tell you about what your body is supposed to look like as a girl, and what it isn’t supposed to look like, and though as an adult you’ve mostly moved on from such comments affecting you too much, being confronted with her views that are so different from yours again now is still not easy to deal with.

Still, you walk out of your parents’ house a couple of hours later, knowing that your mother won’t disapprove of or pester you about your outfit choice anymore, and so what remains is your gratitude towards your boyfriend for making it that way.

“I’m so sorry I had to say all that…” He speaks up the second the door to his flat falls into its lock, and you feel his arms wrapping around you from behind. 

“It’s okay, I know why you did it,” you assure him as you feel him putting his chin on top of your shoulder.

“You sure? You seemed very hurt by it…” he says, and you spin around in his hold, taking his hands into yours.

“Yes,” you say, giving him a confident look now. “I’m sure. My mother wouldn’t have been convinced otherwise, this is all she cares about. My image.” Before all the anger and sadness that your words and the conversation with your mother evoked can bubble up fully and take over you, Jongho takes a step forward, having you lean your head against his chest as he wraps you into a warm embrace.

“You know that’s not true,” he says, and he’s probably right, but you don’t want to think about it right now.

“Thank you anyway,” you mutter into the tight hug, snaking your arms around his waist to return it. “Really, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Of course…” he mumbles a response, one hand coming to rest atop your head. He supports your weight as you let the exhaustion of the past days take over you and you lean against his frame. That’s when a thought hits you, and you stand up straight.

“Am I… being dramatic about this?”

“Huh?” Jongho raises his eyebrows at you.

“I mean… it’s not that big of a deal, right? …the dress.” You avoid looking at him, and after a few seconds of silence, he places his hands on your shoulders to make you look at him.

“Hey. It’s very much a big deal for you, or you wouldn’t have tried so long to convince your mom to let you go in pants,” he reminds you, and you find yourself nodding.

“You’re right…” you say eventually. “You’re right, I don’t have to do something I’m uncomfortable with, even if it’s what my mom wants.”

“Exactly.” He gives you a smile, and you think you can see a hint of pride behind his expression. Kicking off your shoes, you walk into his flat, and once you’re both standing in the living room, you spin around on your heels.

“How much of what you said was a lie though?” you question, and your boyfriend shoots you a bright smile as he follows right behind you.

“I made up like 80% of it,” he admits, coming to a halt right in front of you.

“The tailor friend?”

“A lie.”

“Whoa… and you told that whole story with a straight face, huh? Scary…” you say, and Jongho laughs, well aware that you’re joking. Then you become serious, and you mumble, “Thank you again… how can I repay you for this?” You close the distance between you and him, and when you throw your arms around his shoulders, he’s quick to take a hold of your waist. Gaze wandering to your lips as he tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, he hesitates.

“Well…” 

“Well?” 

“I do… have an idea. Even though it’s probably a little… no, it’s very unreasonable…” He looks away, an awkward expression appearing on his face that tells you he isn’t sure whether he should really let you know about this idea of his.

“Why?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Because… actually, remember that picture you showed me in that dress?”

“Yeah…?” You have a hunch about where this is going, but you let him finish anyway.

“It’s just… I kinda… haven’t been able to get that out of my mind…” You take a step back, and you catch a glimpse of the way his ears are taking on a shade of red.

“You want to… see me in a dress?” you take a guess, making him admit to it.

“Yeah… only if you want to, of course! I don’t want to make you do anything you feel uncomfortable with! You really don’t have to-”

“Hey,” you interrupt his rambles, answering his hesitant gaze with a certain one. “I think… it’s okay… if it’s just you seeing me. I mean… I feel uncomfortable wearing dresses when I go out… but if it’s in the comfort of my own place or yours… it’s fine I think?”

“Oh…” he lets out a small gasp, and then again he adds, “But you really don’t have to.”

“I know that, dumbass,” you joke. “You’re not my mom.” The comment makes him smile as he lets go of the tension in his shoulders, and you continue. “But now… no more talk about dresses for today, okay?” You close the distance between you and him, until you’re in your earlier position - your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and him supporting you by the waist.

“Okay.” He smiles, before you lean in to press a short kiss to his lips.

Lifting the skirt of the flowy summer dress up a bit and then letting go to see how the fabric softly sways back into place, you look at your frame in the mirror, and for the first time in a while you’re not super uncomfortable with what you see. It’s a white dress, decorations stitched onto the very top of the chest part with a fine orange yarn, and you can’t recall when you wore it the last time. You spin on your tiptoes to look at how it fits you from the back, and the skirt moves along with your half turn prettily. The thin fabric is wrapping itself around your waist a little tightly, but you don’t mind it this time - you know it’s only your boyfriend who will see you like this, so you don’t need to worry about how the piece of clothing fits you, if the skirt would ever ride up too far, or what kind of strangers would feel like they have permission to stare at you for a little too long in public. You turn back around, and your features shine through the white fabric - you decided not to wear underwear on purpose, wondering if your boyfriend would like the surprise. In this case, you want him to stare.

You walk out into the living room on quiet footsteps, and you grin to yourself as you find him disappearing towards the kitchen area, from where he can’t see you approaching the dinner table. Leaning against the edge of it, you call out to him.

“Baby, I have a surprise for you!” 

“What is-” As soon as Jongho catches sight of you, the words get stuck in his throat. Instead, he’s now taking in your figure, the lower part of your body still hidden behind the table, but from the way the look on his face immediately changes, you can tell he likes what he sees. “Ah…” His lips part to make way for a sound of pure admiration, and he approaches you, until he’s standing right in front of you, being able to take you in whole now.

“You wanted to see me like this, right?” you mutter, a bit amused by the image in front of you, because it’s rare to see your boyfriend this stunned.

“I did,” he mutters lowly, taking another step towards you and putting one hand on your waist, while he uses the other to tilt your chin up. You gulp at the need reflecting in his eyes, and as he leans in, your eyelids flutter shut. But instead of kissing you on the lips like you expected, he buries his face in your neck instead, now wrapping both arms around you, and you gasp when you feel his teeth grazing your skin. He works his way up until his lips hover beside your ear, and you can feel his hot breath against it as he speaks, “You look beautiful.” You catch a glimpse of his expression as he moves to brush his lips against yours, finding both a certain softness to his gaze, and a deep desire behind his eyes. 

You let him kiss you, melting against his touch as he keeps withdrawing in between in order to tease you, and when he sinks his teeth into your lower lip, nibbling on it for a while, you mewl at the sensation, your hands reaching out and finding his clothes to hold onto. 

“So pretty…” he mutters in between kisses, until he eventually takes a step back to let himself take in the sight in front of him once again. “And mine.” His palms find your chest, and you don’t miss the sharp breath your boyfriend sucks in as his fingertips wander past your nipples shining through the thin fabric, continuing their journey south, until they find purchase on your hips and he leans in again. “So fucking beautiful,” Jongho mutters, before he closes the distance between his mouth and the exposed part of your chest. You lean back, your hands placed behind you, supporting yourself on the surface of the table, and you give him full access to your neck. He takes his time worshipping every inch of you that he can reach, nips and kisses placed all over your collarbones and your throat, up to your jaw, and when he calls out to you, you look back at him, finding yourself melting against yet another kiss to your lips. You only break apart when you gasp upon feeling his bulge pressed against your stomach, and you moan when he rolls his hips against yours once and you find the need in his eyes. One hand finds its way up your torso, and he watches as he slowly lets it brush against your tummy, your breasts, and eventually he wraps it loosely around your throat, causing you to throw your head back.

“I’m glad, though…” your partner mutters, withdrawing his fingers from your pulse to find your chest instead, and you mewl when he starts massaging your boobs. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to see you like this anyway.” You gulp at his words - you’ve never seen him getting this possessive. And at the same time it excites you. You rub your thighs together instinctively, but he’s quick to reach down with his other hand, having you spread them apart with a simple gesture, before he reaches for your core, dragging his fingers down between your folds with only the white fabric in between.

“No underwear, hm?” he mutters, burying his face in the crook of your neck to make you gasp as he sinks his teeth into your flesh and he continues teasing your pussy, staining the inside of the skirt with your juices. “That’s dirty,” he comments, before you can feel his warm tongue pressing against the spot where he just bit you, and you buck your hips into his touch involuntarily, resulting in him taking a step back and removing his hands from you. “Fuck, I want to keep teasing you so bad,” your boyfriend says, his eyes glued to your body, “but you’re so fucking beautiful…” You don’t see where those two things would contradict each other, but he doesn’t leave you much time to think about it anyway as he takes you by the hands and leads you over to the sofa. He sits down and pulls you into his lap, having you straddle him.

“Ride me, my love,” he mutters, his palms rubbing against the skin on your thighs underneath the dress. The way he’s gazing up at you now he looks completely drunk on you, and it makes your stomach flip. 

“Okay,” you mouth, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and you start at a slow pace. And even though he drags his palms up just a little further so they would rest on your hips, he lets you decide on the pace yourself. Grinding down onto this clothed cock, pussy rubbing against the strained fabric of Jongho’s pants, you let out little whines with every repetition of your movements. Leaning your head back, he gladly accepts the invitation to attach his lips to your neck again, kissing and nibbling at the skin, and you wonder if he’s being careful enough not to leave any bruises by the end of this. But it’s not like you care at this very moment, where you have more pressing things on your mind. 

“F-feels good…” you mewl, running your fingers through his hair, and you shiver when you can hear your boyfriend moaning against your nape.

“Shit, are you gonna cum just like that?” he asks, and you bite your lip.

“C-can I?” you ask, crying out when you can feel him thrusting up, wordlessly. By the way his breathing is getting heavier and occasional groans escape him, you can tell that he’s coming close too - until suddenly he stops you, his hands still resting on your hips. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand that you’re supposed to wait, though seeing how close you were to tumbling over the edge, you’re not entirely happy about it. Your partner reaches for the waistband of his pants, pulling them down along with his underwear just enough to expose his length, and when he puts his hands onto your thighs again, he pulls you closer. He hisses another curse as you roll your hips against him, having his tip merely grazing your folds, and the sharp pain of him digging his fingernails into your flesh in response has you letting out a whine.

“Fuck…” you breathe out, as an entirely different desire creeps up to you now, and while you wonder if you should tell him about it you feel yourself almost cumming from the thought alone as you sink down on him. “B-baby…” you whimper as you take him in with only a few smooth movements of your hips, and when you’re settled comfortably on top of him, he runs his hands up your sides.

“Go slow,” he orders, and though it’s hard for you to hold back, you do as told. Soon, you find yourself beginning to shake uncontrollably as you fuck yourself on his cock, while your boyfriend lets his palms wander your body. And even when eventually he finds your breasts, teasing your nipples through the white fabric, it’s just not enough to give you that sweet release.

“H-how much longer…” you ask, eyes squeezed shut. “W-wanna cum…”

“Not yet, dear,” he whispers, torturing you just a little more. “Slow down,” he reminds you as your pace gets messed up, and when you don’t manage to fall back into your earlier rhythm, he slowly lets one hand wander south on your backside. You whimper when you feel his palm against your ass, arching your back for him, and again, you feel tempted to ask for him to spank you. But he speaks up before the right words can form on your tongue.

“But…” There’s a strain in his voice, telling you that he’s holding back too, and instead of the pain you were hoping for, he’s now pinching your nipple between his fingers, making you let out a broken moan. He then guides both of his hands back to your hips, steadying your rhythm, and as he does he hisses at the pleasure. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to plan surprises like this,” he comments, and then finally you can feel him pressing his thumb against your clit. You whine when he begins drawing circles onto the sensitive bud through the fabric of your dress, and once again your hips begin to stutter - just that this time he doesn’t correct your pace, but instead you can feel him thrusting up to meet you halfways.

“Ahh…” An uncontrolled sound falls from your lips, before you answer, already feeling your high building up inside your stomach. “M-me neither… I don’t think… I would’ve… d-done this before…” You somehow manage to get out what you’re trying to say, and in your own chase for your high you don’t immediately notice how your words seem to affect your partner.

“Really…?” he mutters through gritted teeth and his free hand finds its way up your back and into your hair. Tugging on the strands, he makes you lean your head back, and the moment you can feel him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, your orgasm overwhelms you. You cry out, feeling your whole body shaking as you cum around his cock, pleasure mixing in with the pain from him biting down even harder as he too comes undone underneath you. 

He lets you catch your breath for a while, brushing his lips against the bite mark and then his fingertips too.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, and you shake your head, leaning in to gently bump your forehead against his.

“It’s fine…” you assure him. “I think… I like the pain.” You feel him slipping out of you as you move back, and Jongho has his hands back on your sides when you try to get up. With a dangerous look in his eyes, he keeps you from moving too far away, muttering,

“I’m not done with you yet, dear.” He makes you sit back down in his lap, and once your hands are holding onto his shoulders, his palms start roaming your body again. “You look way too beautiful like this… it’d be a waste to stop already.” You furrow your eyebrows as he pulls on the dress, and you watch as the fabric exposes more of your chest. Pulling it down enough until both your breasts are uncovered, you mewl at the way he wraps his lips around your left nipple, while he takes your right side into his hand. Deep moans escape him, mixing in with your more high-pitched ones, and soon enough you melt against his touch and you begin rolling your hips on top of him again. 

“F-feels good…” you mutter and when he releases you for a moment, you draw a long sigh from his lips when you comb your fingers through his short hair and his eyelids flutter shut.

“This won’t do,” he says when his gaze finds your face. Using his strength, he flips you onto your back, making you lie down flat on the sofa, and when he hovers above you, he goes right back to scattering little bites all over your chest. “You’re so fucking perfect…” he mutters, and the praise makes your heart skip a beat. You can tell he’s getting impatient by the way he’s working his way down your body restlessly, and you hold your breath when he finally has his head between your legs, reaching for your thighs to throw them over his shoulders, all while never breaking eye contact with you.

“Need more of you…” Jongho mutters, kissing a trail down the inside of your thigh. “Need to ruin you.” A shaky moan leaves you when you feel his tongue pressing against your folds, and he licks up a stripe. Having its tip circling your clit skillfully, he brings a finger up to your entrance, and using your slick as well as his own cum leaking out of you as lube, he pushes up inside of you effortlessly. You clench around him immediately, your toes curling at the sensation of him slowly thrusting that one digit in and out of you.

“M-more…” you beg, and you can see him smirk in between your legs. Contrary to what you’re asking for, he pulls out his finger and instead slides in his tongue, moaning as his and your taste mix in his mouth, and the vibrations of his voice make you shudder. You reach down to bury your fingers in his hair and he lets you, closing his eyes as he savours your taste before pulling out and moving back to your clit. He wraps his lips around the small bud, and with your last orgasm not having been so long ago, even him gently sucking on it is turning you into a whining mess in no time. And then he moans at your taste again, because he knows hearing him enjoying this drives you crazy, and you know that at this rate there’s a possibility he’ll make you cum again just from this.

“J-jongho…” you manage to whimper his name, and as he hums against your cunt in response, you clench around nothing. He places one of his palms onto the underside of your thigh, and as if that was the sign you needed to get the gears up in your head moving, you blurt out, “Spank me…” He looks up, a cocky smirk on his face as he rubs his hand against your thigh now.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about the entire time?” he asks, his demeanor changing ever so slightly and his now piercing stare makes you gulp. You’re not sure if he really knew what was going on all along, or if it only just clicked now that you said it, but either way you nod. “You really meant it when you said you like the pain, hm?” He comes back up to attach his lips to your neck, and when he rolls his hips against yours once, you can feel that he got hard again. The second his teeth graze your skin, you throw your head back instinctively, and you let out a shaky moan, only fuelling his need to tease. He lets his palm draw circles on the underside of your thigh, until eventually his fingers wander to your aching cunt and he slips inside two of them.

“Fuck…” you mewl at the feeling of his digits filling you up, and you immediately buck your hips into his hand.

“So needy…” he comments, curling his fingers inside of you and having them graze your g-spot with every repetition. You keep meeting him halfway, unable to stop the motion of your hips, like your body is taking over control and its only purpose is to chase your next high. “And you’re gonna cum again just from the thought, huh?” You whine at his words, and even more so when he angles his hand so that your clit grazes his palm with every time he repeats his motions. “Did you want it that badly? Me spanking you?”

“D-didn’t know how to bring it up…” you whine in between, and he leans in to press a kiss onto your exposed chest.

“You did well telling me,” he praises you, fingering you right towards your next high.

“‘M gonna cum… I’m gonna-” You clench around his fingers as a string of moans and curses falls from your lips and your high shakes you and Jongho quickly presses his thumb against your clit, continuing to tend to the bundle of nerves even as you’re coming down from your high. Writhing underneath him as the overstimulation builds up, you can see him watching intently as you manage to escape his touch, and when his fingers slip out of you, his lips part slightly. There’s a new expression on his face, one that you’ve never seen before, but only a moment later the tension breaks when he sits up, rubbing his palms along your thighs that are still shaking in soothing motions.

“Can you take one more?” he asks as he looks down at you, and you nod. “Then come here.” He gets up and he supports your weight as you do the same. Never taking his eyes off of you as if he was closely monitoring your condition, he leads you over to the dinner table, and when you’re standing right in front of it, he says, “Take off your dress, love.” He helps you out of it, and as you’re trying to turn around to look at him, he keeps you from it. “That’s not what we’re doing now.” He runs his fingertips up your back, and when his hand is placed between your shoulder blades, you can hear his voice again.

“Bend over.” He speaks the words slowly, his tone low, and it makes you suck in a sharp breath. You do as told, and when the hand on your back travels to your behind, it sparks excitement deep inside you. One soothing circle against your ass, he takes his hand away, and then he orders, “Count down from three.” You hesitate, but he grants you those few seconds to think about it, not wanting to push you, and so eventually you speak,

“Three… two… o-one-!” The last number turning into a broken moan when his hand flies to the spot he has caressed just a few moments ago, you feel pain and pleasure surging through your veins at once.

“How was that?” your partner asks, dominance radiating off his voice.

“G-green…” you answer.

“That’s my good girl…” he praises you, and you feel your stomach doing a flip at his words.

“W-wanna be your good girl…” you sputter as you feel your mind going empty, and you arch your back for him prettily. He hums at your reply, or maybe at the state you can feel yourself slipping into, and he says,

“One more?”

“Y-yeah…” you say, and you can hear him letting out a short laugh behind you. 

“Then count down.” This time you don’t waste a single second.

“Three… two-” His palm meets your ass with a smacking sound too early this time, and it makes you mewl pathetically once again. As if to apologize, he immediately rubs a few more soothing circles onto the spot, and you can hear him mutter,

“You’re so fucking cute.” And then, when he places both hands on your hips, you can feel the tip of his cock grazing your folds, and the realization that he too got rock hard from this only makes your sanity slip yet a little further away from you. 

“Hmmm f-fuck me…” you babble, and once again you can hear him letting out an amused sound.

“You’re so far gone from just this, huh…? And I was gonna fuck you stupid over this table, but you are already stupid.” You whine at his words, nodding, and when you feel him sliding inside of you with ease, there’s nothing you can do but mewl at the feeling.

“Give me a color, dear,” he says, holding still for a moment.

“G-green…” you manage to say. “V-very… fucking… gr-” Hearing it once is all the confirmation he needed, because before you can say it a second time, he’s already starting to thrust. He starts slow, but powerful, and all you can do is let him fuck you as you feel yourself going limp under the impact. Skin slapping against skin, he picks up in pace gradually - maybe faster than he wants to, because the grunts coming from behind you make it apparent that neither of you are going to last long this time. 

“Fuck… fuck…” He spits out one curse after the other, his voice strained, and when he can feel you clenching around him as you keep whining at his relentless pace, he reaches down to tend to your clit. Contrary to most times when he pleases you, his motions are anything but precise now, and yet it’s more than enough to get you to cum again. Tears well up in your eyes as you feel your high building up deep inside, and when only seconds later you come undone with him still fucking you hard, you find yourself clawing at the tabletop from the overwhelming pleasure. The blissful afterglow of the orgasm mixes in with the building overstimulation as his hips keep slamming into you, but you do your best to hold still for him through desperate whines and unintelligible cries.

“Shit, Y/N…” he groans your name as you can feel him releasing inside of you, and when he finally comes to a halt you shudder. Pulling out of you carefully, he supports himself on the table with his hands on either side of you for a while, allowing himself to recover, before you feel one of his palms gently meeting the small of your back, and he starts moving it up and down all across your back in soothing motions.

“You did so well, baby…” he breathes, and when he notices you attempting to stand up straight, he’s right there to hold you up. With your legs shaking, he lets you rest against his chest for a short while, but eventually figures it’d be better for you to sit down, so he leads you over to the couch where you can let your exhausted body rest. He disappears in the kitchen for a short while, and sure enough he returns with some water and a few paper towels to clean yourselves up. Making sure you drink a good amount of fluid, he sits down next to you, putting his arm around your frame and letting you snuggle up to him closely.

“That was amazing,” you mutter as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, and you leave a few kisses all around the mole on his throat, before also brushing your lips against his cheek. Though your limbs ache from the overexertion on your body, you lift your arm to run your fingers through his hair, and while you’re massaging his scalp you can feel him relaxing against your figure too. He looks at your face, and he lets himself trace your features with his gaze for a short while, before he wraps his other arm around you too, and he pulls you in for a lingering kiss on your forehead. 

“You were amazing too,” he mutters as his lips move against your skin while he talks, before he allows you to rest like this for just a while longer.

You finish the last bite of the takeout meal you brought home for the both of you when you lean back in your seat and throw your hands up in the air to stretch thoroughly. 

“Nothing like a good meal after a long day,” you groan, and your boyfriend agrees.

“Right,” he mutters, watching you with a smile before he gets up, starting to stack the dishes on the table so he could carry them to the kitchen all at once. You thank him as you watch him walk off with his hands full, and when he comes back you call out to him.

“Actually…” you start, and you see him raising his eyebrows at you. “Can we talk about something?”

“Sure,” Jongho replies, getting back into his seat across the table. You look around his apartment that you’ve gotten so used to over time, and after hesitating for a bit because of the uneasy feeling building in your stomach, you speak up.

“So… what if we moved in together?” 

“Huh?” your partner lets out a surprised noise before he bursts out laughing. Meanwhile you’re beyond confused, to say the least.

“Is it funny…?” you ask, and as he reaches for your hands resting on the table, he answers, the amused expression still on his face.

“No, I mean-... you’ve been practically living here for the past months,” he explains, and as you understand what he’s trying to say, the tension leaves your shoulders at once.

“Ahh… you’re right,” you let out a short laugh too now, before pulling one of your hands out of his hold to grasp at your chest instead. “I thought you’d say no.”

“No, no!” Jongho refutes immediately and he gets up, walking around the table to come to a halt right beside you, wrapping his arms around your figure. He looks down, combing his fingers through your hair as he becomes serious, and when you return his gaze he says, “I’d like it if we moved in together. Officially, that is.” You smile, and then you wrap your arms around his waist and you bury your face in his stomach. 

“That’s nice,” you mutter, and you stay like this for a while, having him gently stroking your hair, and once he peels himself away from you, you feel like the hug along with the food you just had made you feel a lot sleepier than you were just before. Your boyfriend cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing against your cheek as he looks at you with both adoration and a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Finally I can make you pay rent,” he adds, and you jump up immediately to complain. You form your hands into fists and playfully hit his arm, making him laugh once again as he turns away to shield his upper body, as if he needed to protect himself from your attack. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding…” he says, and now you’re the one grinning.

“Oh, you’re letting me live here for free?” you reckon, and his amused expression makes way for a slightly offended one.

“I’ve been letting you live here for free for weeks!” he retorts, and this time you’re the one laughing as you throw yourself at him, engulfing him in a tight hug. 

[dudeitiskarev]

Maybe Someday | Ch. 8

A Spencer Reid mini-series

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader

Chapter summary: feelings come to light and neither knows how to handle it.

Word count: 1.8k

Tags/warnings: mention of reader’s abortion, regrets, love confession *gasps*

Author’s note: this part was so a bit tedious to finish because they just didn’t want to talk about their almost kiss and nothing felt right. I had to grab them each by their ear and sit them in a room and force them to talk 🤭

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | SPENCER MASTERLIST

You’d come to his place to address the big elephant in the room. Instead, you got slapped in the face with memories. 

Henry was the kid that was born the day you had an abortion. He was a beautiful and kind little human who managed to turn your very exhausting day into a lightweight. 

When you held him, he’d caressed your cheeks and nose with his tiny fingers. It helped him fall asleep and you couldn’t help but wonder what your life would be like right now if you hadn’t gone through with the procedure (what would make your baby fall asleep so soundly).

You wouldn’t have Spencer, that’s for sure. Which was enough reason to know it was the right choice. But you wondered, how much you wondered... 

The front door opened and you jumped, trying your best to gather yourself before Spencer made it next to you.

“Hey,” he said, sitting down. “You okay?”

You nodded, looking at him. “I miss Henry already,” You said through a small laugh.

You missed your baby. What could’ve been. What could still be.

“Yeah, he has that effect on people as soon as he leaves,” Spencer gave you a lopsided smile. 

You’d healed since then but that didn’t mean you’d ever forget and you had too many emotions playing with your body right now. Your throat was too tight to even swallow properly. 

You cleared your throat. “I think I’m gonna go now.” You stood up, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants and reaching for your purse.

Spencer mirrored you and stood in your way. “Sorry, I didn’t think of it when you said you wanted to go.” He gulped with guilt. “Henry triggered memories, didn’t he?”

You smiled. Of course, he’d noticed. 

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault.”

“It is, though.” He raised his brows. “I insisted you’d come in.”

“No, I should’ve called before showing up. I just wanted to ta—“You bit your tongue right away and looked away “It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“Talk about what?” He searched for your eyes.

You took a deep breath, raising your brows. “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“You can talk to me, you know?”

No man has ever been so soft-spoken to you about everything, always, all the time. You wished he had the power to make himself tiny so you could put him inside your pocket and carry him with you forever. 

“I know, but… you haven’t mentioned it so I don’t think I should either.”

Spencer stared and his chest rose as he took a deep breath. “Is it about how we almost kissed?”

He’d probably been thinking about it more than you. 

You huff a small embarrassed laugh, raising your brows. “About that day, yes.” Spencer didn’t respond, giving you the window to talk about what’s been keeping you up at night these past two weeks. “I… I got very emotional,” you began, moving your hands and using them as a second language in case words turned blurry. “You made me very emotional by showing up out of nowhere with perfect gifts and perfect things to say and I guess I got carried away with my feelings.” You brought one palm to your chest. “Not that I didn’t mean what I said but after, what happened after is what”—you chuckled at the memories that were still so damn vivid—“I cried and we hugged very closely and—“ you clasped them together. This was going terribly already. “I think it made things awkward between us. I mean, we barely talked for like two weeks and now I’m making it more awkward but… I needed to address it.”

You ended up so out of breath you were lightheaded. But you didn’t sit down. You wanted to run. Disappear. Become dust. But he was still in your way. 

“Yeah.” Spencer raised his brows, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I got carried away too?” He gulped and his voice slowly faded as he added, “Not that I didn’t mean any of it either.” 

You took a step closer and placed your palm over his upper arm. “You’re my best friend, Spencer.”

His arm twitched at your touch and his gaze softened, his brows pinched together ever so slightly and his honey-sweet voice came out so pained it began to shatter the ice surrounding—protecting—your heart as he said, “I don’t want you like a best friend.” 

Oh, this was not how it was supposed to go. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, taking a step back and saying the first thing that came to your mind. “You’re… you’re getting the wrong message.”

“Am I?” He took half a step closer.

He was making it so hard. To stay put. Stay away. And right now, more than ever, a strong warmth welled in your chest. 

“I would’ve kissed you if Noah hadn’t shown up,” he said. “And I know you would’ve kissed me, too.”

Something inside you cracked. It was the ice around your heart melting. 

“We would’ve kissed.” He lifted his hand and caressed your cheek with the back of his curled fingers.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean… anything.” You shut your eyes in an attempt to dodge his touch.

It was getting so, so warm inside you.

“It does to me,” he replied.

So warm.

“I’m in love with you,” he bluntly confessed, raw and straightforward. 

Your breath hitched and the air in your lungs was gone. The man you loved, loved you back. 

You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

So, so, so incredibly warm.

“I love you,” Spencer said. “I know you. I know who you are, and I love you. Just like that. I love you.”

You opened your eyes and caught the plea in his eyes. 

“Say you don’t love me and I promise you”—he begged, cradling your face with both hands—“I’ll try my hardest to make it go away if that’s what you want. Just say you don’t love me back and I’ll… make it  stop.” You couldn’t move or breathe or talk or do anything at all. It sounded like a prayer. Like he was talking to an all-powerful being, begging for an answer. “I know you have feelings for me too. I know you do, you wouldn’t have said all those beautiful things if you didn’t.”

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrists to tear yourself off his touch. But you stayed there, hands clutching. “I’m not good for you.” Your voice barely came out. 

“Don’t… say that.”

“I have nothing to offer, Spencer I… you deserve someone that—”

His eyes darkened and his tone changed as he said, “Why won’t you let me in?” 

Because the last time you did—letting in a man by saying ‘I love you’—he got you pregnant then left you. You’d realized soon after that it was attachment disguised as love. And deep down you feared this might be it, again. 

“I need… a moment.” You let go of his touch and walked past him on your way to the door.

“Where are you going?” He walked behind you. 

“Home.” You turned the knob and opened it. “I… I need to think, Spencer.”

“No!” He slammed the door shut with his whole palm. “Just talk to me, damn it!”

You flinched by instinct, but even his loud voice was filled with care. 

“Sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to—“ he brought one hand to his mouth. “I don’t know what—“

“What do you want me to say?!” You matched his tone. It was all about to come out now. It was brewing within you. The love. “That I love you too?! That it terrifies me to love you this much.” You closed the gap between you two and pointed a finger at yourself. “Good things don’t happen to me. And you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to do anything different because I want to keep you in my life. Like this. This far away. Forever.”

Spencer held your face tenderly and scanned your probably wrecked features. “You don’t have to do anything.” He begged. “You don’t have to do anything differently at all. Please.”

The hurt in his tone was like a ton of needles wanting to get through you. 

“I’m scared,” You murmured. “What if—

His forehead was glued to yours now. “I won’t go anywhere. And I won’t let you go away ever again. Just… let me in and we’ll figure it all out together. Just don’t walk away. Don’t leave me. Please,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

He sounded so scared. All you could do was nod with guilt, licking your lips. “I won’t. I promise.”

He then fell silent. Only your shaky breaths separated you. Your foreheads glued together, his hands cradling your entire head, almost, and your hands clutching his waist. Hearts beating for each other. 

He’d said he loved you and you admitted loving him back, and neither was doing anything about it. 

“I… I still have to go home,” you broke the silence.

“I know.” His lips were hovering over yours, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he added, “Just let me… have you this close a little longer. Let me—“

He cut himself off by leaning. His lips grazed yours ever so slightly yet he didn’t kiss you, as if there was a magnetic force keeping your lips from touching properly. 

“Spencer,” you murmured.

“Hmm?”

“Just kiss me already.” 

“I’m trying I—“

You yanked him by the nape of his neck and pressed your lips together. It was harsh, but he was taking too long. His hands traveled down your sides to your waist and pulled you closer into a tight hug as the kiss slowly became a real one. 

He let out a dark sound as he parted his lips, changing the pace. Took charge and the earth stopped spinning. This was your only world right now, in his arms and his lips and his hands burying into your body. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your tippy toes as if you couldn’t be any closer. You wanted him closer. You wanted to crawl inside his skin. Be a part of him and let him have you whole. 

He abruptly pulled away to catch some air, panting against your lips. 

“I need— I’m getting too eager, hold on.” He pressed his forehead with yours again.

You swallowed, trying to regulate your breathing but your thoughts came out loud. “God, Spencer. I didn’t think you’d be such a good kisser.”

You were still levitating.

“Uh, thank you?” He sort of laughed.

“Would you kiss me again?” You asked, searching for his eyes but he had them shut tight. You missed his lips already. You needed to keep kissing him until it all became real.

“Right now?” His voice came out slightly high-pitched. 

“Or in a billion years. I can wait.”

You’ll wait for him forever and would relive your life a thousand times if it meant you’ll have this again. 

He laughed a little. “You don’t have to wait that long.” 

YAYYYYYYYY they finally stopped being so stupid 🤭

From now on everything is even more fast paced. There’s only 2 chapters left 💖

Thank you to everyone who’s been following this little story so far. I see you and I appreciate you all so very much 🥹🫶💖

[the-grey-maiden]

HEY! Hellooooo could you write something about anakin x virgin!reader, their first time and stuff? Please you’re amazing!

You got it! 💖 This is my first request so apologies in advance if it's not the best

Warnings/tags: smut, virgin, first time, fem!reader, heterosexual sex, fingering, dom/sub, dom!Anakin, sub!reader, pet names, size difference

To say you'd been overthinking the moment was an understatement.

You'd lost count of how many times you'd imagined this, so hopeful for it to be perfect in the imperfect way only a first time could be. It was a brand new step for you, but with Anakin being the one taking you there, you knew you could do it.

He'd been so gentle, so patient, and so attuned to you that he could guide you without pushing you too far from your comfort zone. If only he had such patience for other parts of his life...

You blanched at the array of equipment Anakin had at his disposal the first time. And the second time. And the third, at least. Some of it you could deduce fairly reasonably; other things... you weren't even sure you wanted to know. But Anakin kept things simple and slow, so as not to overwhelm you.

Anakin devoted plenty of time to preparing you for him. Cool and slick with lube, his middle finger slipped inside snugly. He sensed your trepidation in the Force, his Jedi senses giving him an unfair advantage, though not in a way you could ever resent. With the way your tongue got tied, it was more than a little helpful to have Anakin's heightened intuition to fill the gaps.

"You're tensing, little one," the deep rumble stirred you back to the moment fully; "And you're drifting."

Two firm fingers gripped your jaw, bringing you before his unsettlingly piercing eyes. A deep curl of the digit inside your pussy really made you focus.

"Breathe," Anakin purred as you squirmed. " Eyes on me. Think only on what you feel now... That's it. I know you love it when I play with you."

Another finger went in with ease, to Anakin's satisfaction.

Your body arched from the bed as you breathed ease into your muscles, and a sweet moan was pulled from you at the feel of Anakin's thumb on your clit. He knew your body like his own personal map of stars.

"Better," he murmured with rough approval. His fingers moved a little harder, a little faster and your gasps and moans drowned out his heavied breaths. When you gazed at him with hooded eyes, you could have sworn those avid orbs of steely blue were glinting in the soft light.

The touch of his hand was familiar by now. You'd long lost count of how many times Anakin's fingers alone had brought you to ecstasy, and time fell away as he worked you tirelessly into a tight, coiled haze of pleasure. So much so that you forgot to be nervous when his fingers pulled free of your slick, swollen folds.

Before you could breathe again, Anakin was there, your lover huge and hulking above you. Your eyes were drawn to his hand coating his dick with lube, caressing the long, thick shaft. You knew if you looked for too long you'd start to tense again.

"Ana--" your breathless voice was silenced with a kiss.

What would have been your words melted into a soft sigh, consumed into Anakin. His tongue pushed past your lips, devouring your mouth as he'd done a hundred times before and ensnaring you in the taste of him.

"I'll be gentle," he assured in a murmur against your lips.

"I know," you whispered back. "You always are."

That made Anakin chuckle. "With you, little one, yes. Only with you."

There was a bit of pain at first. Even with plenty of lube, even with his preparation and gentleness, Anakin was not a small man by any stretch. You closed your eyes with a gasp, clinging tight to his broad frame as he slid in inch by inch, and then held himself still. Your inner walls clenched, stretched wider than they had been before. For a few long moments, Anakin held himself above you, careful not to crush you under his weight.

"Good girl... good girl," he soothed huskily over your short breaths and tiny whimpers. "You feel me... all the way in. That's my good girl, you're taking me so well. I won't move 'til you're ready."

You breathed deep, in and out, in and out. You'd never thought you could feel so full, but it felt so right. Like you'd been missing a piece of yourself and only Anakin could make you feel whole.

A subtle arch of your hips made him twitch inside you, coaxing a tiny sound from your throat. It was only then you realised how tightly you were clinging on, not that you could ever hurt him. "I think I'm ready," you whispered to your love.

Anakin moved slowly at first, so careful with his weight and strength. He was always attentive when it came to you, but now especially so. He answered your every movement and sound - every roll of your hips, every sigh and moan, every flutter of your eyes, every clench of your pussy around his cock - as if composing an erotic duet between your bodies.

Time, again, was stolen from you. It was all too long and all too short before Anakin had you as a whimpering mess beneath him.

"You'd better not be giving up on me now," he purred, a rougish glint in his eye. "We're only just beginning, sweetling."

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

Can I please request, Gaz and Wife! Reader who are hosting a party with all of Gaz’s old army family? It’s the first time they get to meet you and your children and price can’t stop crying because the godfather/grandfather figure to all the babies!! just like so much fluff and disgusting tooth rotting sweetness lol

:)

It's Been A While {Kyle "Gaz" Garrick}

A/n: I wasn't really sure of how many babies you wanted so to make this easy for me, I made them have twins. Anyways I hope you like it and thank you for requesting. I am so sorry it turned out short

Pairing: Gaz x wife!reader

Trigger warnings: none

Like every man in the Special Forces or army in general that had a relationship, Kyle had kept his personal life private. There hadn't been a wedding for the two of you, just a quick stop at the city hall before he had to leave for a mission. No one was present from his team because he knew at least one of them would go all soft on him. It was the last thing he wanted.

He had just landed on the base when your mum called him and told him you were going to labour. He hadn't driven so fast in his life.

For the rest of the year, he was constantly glued on you like a koala. He refused to let you do any housework for at least the first three months and even after that he would only let you cook. Thankfully for him there hadn't been any missions (surprisingly enough) so all he did was stay home, play with your twins and take care of you. And Kyle was happy. In fact, he had never been happier.

The first person to know about your relationship with him was Price and from the moment Kyle told him about the twins, the Captain kept going to the toy store at least once a month.

When the time finally came for the twins' first birthday, Kyle knew there was no way Price would let any of the rleatives from both sides go near the kids. He would be playing with them nonstop and so would Johnny, perhaps even Simon. He decided to throw two small parties: one with your family and one with just Task 141.

Surely enough, he was right, Price was indeed a little too excited.

"At this point I am wondering why we bought presents, John bought the entire toy store." Laswell sighed and without letting her smile drop, she proceeded to shake your hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

John was short on introductions, mainly because his hands were full with bags upon bags of presents for the twins.

"This is unbelievable..." Johnny chuckled. At least an hour had passed ever since everyone arrived and Price was still showing his presents off to the twins.

"Please get him away, he's going to start crying." Laswell rolled her eyes, taking a sip from her orange juice. She was the only one who had turned down the beer offer and was patiently waiting for the pizzas to arrive.

"No I won't," he sniffled. In a matter of seconds all eyes were on him. Obviously no one believed him because on occasions Kyle and pretty much everyone else had seen him wiping away tears from his eyes.

"I won't let him spoil them," Kyle wrapped an arm around your shoulder before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

[whoseholtz]

if i could tell her | will smith

pairing : will smith x fem!reader

warnings : the BRIEFEST mention of being drunk underage, cursing, situationships (ick), reader is a theater kid, use of y/n, dear evan hansen, kissing, but just sickening fluffiness mainly <3

summary : will finally plucks up the courage to tell y/n he wants their relationship be more than just casual, and when he tries confessing he unintentionally quotes dear evan hansen

word count : 2.5k

Y/N and Will had been casually ‘going out’ for around a month now, but due to their conflicting schedules, they rarely got time alone together. Whenever either party had ever felt like they had the right moment to attempt at confessing, something always seemed to come up, or in many cases, ruin the moment.

The previous Monday, Will was quite literally seconds away from finally, officially, asking Y/N out. But do you know what happened? Gabe interrupted; the moment was perfect, and his teammate had ruined it.

Will attempted not to seem phased by it and tried to move on, but he still felt a hint of bitterness in his stomach when he thought back to that day.

However, the failed attempts aside, Will was determined that today was the day; in a few hours, Y/N would be his girlfriend and he would be her boyfriend. At least that was the hope.

Everything was planned out; that very night was Y/N’s first performance in front of a sold-out audience as Evan Hansen in BC’s production of DEH. He was so proud of her to be able to land the main role in the musical, nevermind that it was a usually male-dominated part to have.

Will has spent hours with her rehearsing, reading lines back and forth to help her learn them perfectly and not mess up. The girl had already known the entire musical by heart, but conditioning yourself to then only play one role was actually quite difficult, something she found out rather quickly.

While the boy wouldn't admit it, he actually enjoyed the soundtrack and found himself listening to the songs in his day-to-day life, even on the way to training.

On one particular occasion, he’d been walking to the rink on his own before Gabe and Ryan had joined him, and due to the noise canceling on his headphones, he hadn't realized until Ryan had nudged him in the side lightly, he'd jumped and paused his music.

This led to him being asked what he was listening to, and without really thinking, he’d replied, “Oh, just Dear Evan Hansen, you know.” Needless to say, he’d been teased for being a theater kid multiple times since then.

This musical had somewhat become a shared passion between Will and Y/N, and even though the hockey player wasn't directly involved in the production, he still felt as though he had become a part of the family that was the cast and crew. Most of his time was taken up by hockey, but that didn't stop him from popping in and helping wherever he could.

Ironically, the group had always referred to Will as “Y/N’s boyfriend," and every time either of them tried to remind anybody that they weren't official yet, eyes would be rolled and unconvinced looks would be pointedly given. So, maybe it was about time they could make the nickname accurate.

Special. That’s what he wanted this to be: special. It was all planned out to be just that, and with the night that it was going to be, Will thought it was no better timing than the present.

Smiling to himself, he thought about the fact that, if all went to plan, he could be cheering from the audience for his girlfriend, not just whatever he was supposed to call her right now.

Presently, Will stood at the entry to the block of dorms Y/N stayed in. He had asked his teammates to help pick an outfit for him and hoped it would impress the girl he was hoping to sweep off her feet.

He wore his favorite suit, a maroon-red color similar to the colors of Boston College itself, with a matching tie and white shirt. Perhaps it was cliche; the more he thought about it, the worse those concerns made him worry, but he brushed the thoughts out of his mind, watching the doorway with anticipation.

In his hands, he held a sweet bouquet of flowers—pink tulips, to be exact. No, he couldn't confirm they were her favorite flower, but he always associated her with the flowers. The first time he looked on her Instagram, the emoji in her bio stood out to him immediately.

He had accidentally admitted this fact to the old lady who owned the local florist, but instead of laughing at him, the lady smiled with a twinkle in her eye, muttering something affectionately along the lines of “young love.”

A creak from the door in front of him swiftly took him back to his current situation, and he looked up, his voice catching in his throat for a moment. In front of him was a flustered Y/N, and Will truly felt like the luckiest person in the world.

“Hi!” the girl squeaked out enthusiastically. "Sorry, I took a little longer than you probably expected; I couldn't find my key,” she explained, looking slightly guilty.

“It’s no problem; genuinely, I would’ve waited hours if you needed me to.” Will spoke sweetly. Y/N took it as a dramatic use of hyperbole, but in the boy’s mind, he was speaking nothing but the truth. “These are for you,” he added, handing the bouquet of tulips to the girl. “I didn't know which flowers you liked, but, uh, these reminded me of you.”

“They're gorgeous! And... pink tulips are actually my favorite; you must be psychic.” or maybe he just looked at her Instagram too many times—the same difference, really. Y/N was sure that her heart rate was about 1000 beats per minute, but she calmed herself down with some deep breaths.

“Could I?” She gestured her head between the flowers and the hallway she had just appeared from, asking if she could go and put the flowers back in her dorm, and Will nodded, silently sighing in relief at a moment to get himself together.

After a few minutes, Y/N got back, and Will offered his arm for her to take. She did as prompted, and he led her onward. The first part of his plan was in motion; phew, now all he had to do was not mess up the date or the whole part where he was going to ask Y/N to be his girlfriend.

Unfortunately, part of the plan had Will relying on his friends. Yes, he trusted them, but he still anxiously awaited what he was going to be presented with when they arrived at the park.

He had spent all morning preparing a picnic basket of foods for their date; he’d even taken a trip to a store to buy a wicker basket and a red check blanket to fully complete the aesthetic.

Yet, he was (thankfully) pleasantly surprised when, as he brought the girl through the park, his picnic was perfectly set out for their date. He’d need to remember to thank the boys later. Will looked at Y/N, nervous for her reaction, to see what could only be described as pure joy painted across her expression.

“Will! This is so cute,” she let out a squeal of awe. “You didn't have to; oh my gosh, this is so cute.” She promptly wrapped her arms around the boy, kissing him on the cheek in excitement. His cheeks lit up at this, because while she’d kissed him on the cheek before, it never stopped feeling like the first.

They sat together in the afternoon sun, engaged in conversations about many topics ranging from hockey to Taylor Swift, but somehow, the topic of Dear Evan Hansen had not come up yet, which Will sort of wanted it to, so he could approach what he’d been waiting to say for a long while now.

“And then the show's tonight, and like Ms. Laynor said, we could have a few hours to ourselves before we had to get ready for the opening, right? But she never specified what time we needed to be at the theater, so I just thought four hours before was good, you know. Arrive at 4 p.m. in time for the show at 8, perfect!” Y/N ranted on slightly, but Will listened intently, nodding in agreement with her decision.

“Yeah, I think four hours is good, and if she needs you before then she can always message you.” Will reassured the girl, his eyes twinkling affectionately at the passion she held for the theater. Just seeing the smile that graced her face made the boy know this was it—this was the time he was going to do it. He wasn't sure why he knew, but the moment felt right. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“There's really nothing like your smile; have I ever told you that? It's sort of subtle, but real, and it's perfect." Will started; he had a habit of talking with his hands, and as he spoke, it was highlighted. “And I don't think you know how amazing seeing your smile can make someone feel—can make me feel!”

Y/N watched him talk, stunned and speechless as Will confessed what he had never had the guts to speak out loud before. “And I know that when you're bored in class, you start doodling in the margin of your books, and I noticed that you annotate your books with a pen when you see something you like.”

Admitting this took bravery, but honestly speaking, the boy still hadn't come to terms with the fact that this was actually real.

“But I’ve kept it all inside; I haven't said it to you. I’ve wanted to, seriously, but I couldn't seem to talk to you about it; I couldn't find a way, and I didn't know if we were on the same page because sometimes it feels like we're a million worlds apart, so it was like, where am I meant to start? And how do I say it?"

He took a long breath before he said the most important part, “I love you.”

That was it; he’d done it; he’d said it. There was no taking it back now. He felt close to exploding as he looked directly into her eyes for the first time since he’d started talking. Y/N looked close to crying. Will could only hope that was positive, but the demons in his head only told him of the rejection that was coming.

“Will. I don't know what to say. He braced himself for the harsh reality check he feared was building. “That's the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Wow. I love you too, seriously.”

He deflated, “I get it,” before his mind fully comprehended what he’d just heard. “Wait, what?” His previously crestfallen body language perked up instantly. Did she seriously say what he thought she had? Surely he had to be dreaming, and resisting the urge to pinch himself to check was becoming increasingly difficult.

“I love you too,” she smiled. “And I think if I hadn't already been, the fact you just quoted Dear Evan Hansen to tell me how you felt would've made me fall in love on the spot.” She said it meaningfully; his words had been quotes from a song, yet somehow, everything he said felt raw and honest, like he had written the song about her.

With the realization of what he’d done, Will groaned inwardly, “Fuck, there's no way I plagiarized my confession of love from Dear Evan Hansen. I’m so embarrassing.” He knew the words had been too smooth to be completely his own, but of all the things he had to quote from, It was the musical his girlfriend was going to perform in a few hours.

“What? No, you aren't! You genuinely don't know how much it means. You spent so much time helping me rehearse for the performance when you didn't have to, when we weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, but you did anyway. And you memorized the lyrics, and now you're quoting the songs when you tell me you love me.”

Y/N looked at him with an expression of pure adoration and said, “You're not embarrassing at all; you're just possibly the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

“I never meant it in a bad way that it was quotes from there. I mean, you changed it so it would fit me; that's just about the most thoughtful thing in the history of things. It was personal, to me and to us; that's what matters.” and she was extremely serious when she said that.

The idea that someone she'd fallen in love with cared at all about her passions meant everything, and then for the love to be requited felt like a million years of joy all at once. The boy felt the same, along with a major sense of relief and, well, a hint of lingering embarrassment.

“I’m glad, wow. I’ve been waiting so long to finally tell you this. I can't even believe it's just happened and that you actually like me back, and all the rejection scenarios I imagined were stupid.” He was cut off by the pressing of a kiss on his lips.

“Shut up,” she mumbled affectionately against his lips, smiling slightly into the kiss. Any of their previous fluttering, drunk kisses were forgotten at this moment; the passion after months of mutual pining solidified this as the first kiss, not just for them as a couple but for them as people too.

They continued for a few seconds before both of them lay down on the blanket, somewhat starstruck, letting the situation completely settle in their minds. It was a comfortable silence as they replayed the moment in their heads like a film reel.

It had gotten to 4 p.m. and Y/N had left for the theater. Will spent the time he had between then and the show in a few hours processing everything that had gone down. It honestly shocked him that he’d ever followed through with the plan to begin with.

Fast forward to the performance. Will sat in one of the closest rows to the stage, excited to watch Y/N perform a project she’d been working on for so long. Personally, he was extremely impressed; the entire cast had worked their asses off, and it was definitely worth it.

While Will had listened to the soundtrack, he’d never seen the full musical performed, and seeing it there was something special, especially knowing how much it meant to the people on stage. As the production came to an end and the cast performed their curtain call, the audience gave them a standing ovation.

Y/N, as the title character, got her own turn to bow and take in the true feeling of the audience clapping for you and cheering for you. The feeling was indescribable, but at that time she felt on top of the world, lost in the moment, at a peak in her life.

She was grinning ear to ear as she met the eyes of Will in the crowd, and this somehow prompted the hockey player to shout, “That’s my girlfriend!” at the top of his lungs.

Needless to say, he was extremely embarrassed that he'd said that out loud, but it got his point across in a pretty public way, no doubt about that. Y/N laughed slightly before the rest of the cast joined back into a line with her, taking their final bows as the curtain closed, the show ending.

a/n :: thank you for reading!! the formatting ended up a bit weird and i had to reupload this bc tumblr decided to bully me and not submit this to tags... but hopefully it works now and i hope you enjoyed :3

[whereserpentswalk]

Having fae blood is weird. Being any time of human effected by extra planer beings is weird, but with the fae you have a very specifically odd place in society. You don't even have the privilege of having it been an accident strangers can feel sorry about, you reached out to the faeries, let them play with your body and make it something more than human, it feels better this way, like you were always meant to have become this. You've heard yourself referred to as a changling a lot, but you're not sure you like that term for people touched by the fae, mabye you don't want there to be a term at all.

You're not treated exactly like other people who've been effected by other types of entities, it's not like you've been touched by eldritch magic, or by demonic or divine forces, or made undead, where you're likely to be dehumanized as a monster. People think of you as being cute in a gross way, mabye tragic, like you were a misguided soul who should have been stopped from becoming this way, and now you have to be taken care of. It's hard for people to accept that you should even be allowed to live a normal life. Every time you look up how to deal with aspects of being fae blooded you always see articles for parents dealing with their fae touched children, like they forgot those children will grow up.

People underestimate you in weird ways. People are suprised to learn that you live on your own, that you have an actual job, that you date. People are so willing to help you or to do things for you even when you explicitly tell them not to. The way people talk to every freind your with like they're your handler. Anyone who has power over you will debate weather to let you do things, or do things on your own, it's gotten to the point where your boss and half your professors act like you're a child whose behavior has to be corrected, they don't treat anyone else that way. You've had to explain to people so many times that you're fine handling your weakness to cold iron on your own.

You know that your body and your behavior is a big part of it. You like how you look, but there are so many traits that make people think of you like something small and cute, the flowers that grow in your hair, your big golden eyes, your pointed ears and little goblinoid fangs, the simple fact that your short and slender and androgynous, it all makes people think of you as less of an adult. Not to mention all those little fae quirks that make your behavior so much less human, that make people want to correct you like a misbehaving child. Sometimes you wish you had become creepier, wish you looked like the type of fae creature people need to be afraid of... You would have hated the body you have if it wasn't so euphoric to inhabit it.

Dealing with other demihumans sucks. A lot of them are nice, but it's hard to get some to understand how you're uniquely effected as a fae touched. Like, you understand that there's just some things that you don't go through, like you know someone whose been effected by demons, whose form is something that most people find incredibly scary, the type of creature that some people want to kill. And how can you explain to him that what you go through is just as much of a problem. You were told by an undead once that you were taking away attention from "real" demihumans, just for existing, just for wanting rights.

You've half given up on dating at this point. Your last boyfriend was a fellow demihuman, but he was eldirch touched, twice your hight and with a massive complex mouth filled with sharp teeth, he kept being called a pervert or a predator for dating you, he had to stop just because of that type of judgment. He was a year older than you. A fully human girlfriend you had before him kept treating you like she was your mother. Most people you meet on dating apps think of you as a kink, like a cute submissive little creature they want to dominate, they're so surprised when you don't have the type of fetish that they think is inherent to your being, when you don't think being called slurs is hot. And than there's the fact that people think you shouldn't be allowed to date, if certain laws had passed in your state you wouldn't legally be allowed to consent to sex. You can barely understand how you'd exist with something like that.

You're entire existing is on shaky legal grounds. It's only because of the state that you live in that you can live on your own, in others you would not be granted such privilege. Even still, wizards, the ones that are supposed to help people like you, have so much power over you. If the mage your supposed to visit for potions, someone you're technically paying to see, decides you aren't fit to live alone you lose that right, if they think you need a spell cast on you or a potion given to to "help" with your fae traits there's little you can do to resist. And if they decide you're enough of a harm to yourself, or to someone else (but in your case it's always yourself) they could send you somewhere very dark, somewhere you would only leave if they took mercy on you.

You've been dressing in a stereotypically fae manner more, and using more accommodations. You don't know why but it makes you feel good. You went to a protest the other day, dressed in traditional faerie robes, you got to actually use your magic to fend off a group of counterprotesters, mesmerizing them with illusions, and sending the crows and hornets to your aid. They looked afraid of you and it made you euphoric, you've been seen as a victim for so long, it feels so euphoric to be a monster for once...