#kissing is so difficult to draw i hope i did okay cries | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amistytown · 3 years

Text

The Brothers Comfort a Bullied MC

I started writing this thinking it would be something short and sweet I could finish in a day, and then it turned into this. MC remains gender neutral, and I currently don’t write for the dateables, but when I do I could always write a part II if people are interested. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it, anon, and thank you for the request! As always, I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors that may have gone unnoticed. Trigger warning for mentions of blood, violence, and physical and emotional bullying. Thank you to those who take the time to read my work; it’s greatly appreciated!

LUCIFER

Immediately notices you’re quieter than usual, face sullen and void of the beautiful smile Lucifer has grown accustomed to. He’s determined to figure out what’s troubling you, undeniably concerned for your wellbeing; you’re the exchange student, though, more importantly, you’re his human, and your happiness is his own. That night he calls you to his study, always willing to make time in his busy schedule to accommodate you, especially when his human is in need. Your eyes are dark and swollen, and your head is bowed as you enter; you look exceptionally fragile, his heart aching at the sight. Behind closed doors he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, pressing a light kiss to your forehead while he runs his fingers through your hair; he can feel you relax against him, hands twisting in his shirt as you bury your face in his chest.

Bursting into tears, you cry in his arms, and he holds you close, gaze soft as he consoles you, gently rubbing your back and whispering words of comfort. You’re his priority, his pride and joy, and he won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, wanting to soothe your aching heart. Flames dance in the fireplace, casting the room in their golden glow and emanating a heat that dries your tears and warms you both body and soul. Lucifer cradles you to him in one of the chairs situated before the hearth, watching over you as you curl up in his lap. Patiently he waits for you to speak what’s on your mind, unburdening yourself of your worries, his anger quiet and cold once he learns of the demons tormenting you. They are foolish to bully the one he loves, and to do so on school grounds; they will certainly be punished for their crimes—he will see to it personally.

Lucifer reassures you will no longer endure such harassment, encouraging you to confide in him; there’s little you can do or say to bother the Avatar of Pride, and he wants to help when able, providing his undying support. Your mood lifts significantly, and his heart swells as you cup his cheeks to draw him into a kiss, your lips smiling against his and sweetening the moment. He won’t allow you to leave his side the remainder of the night, and you’re eager to remain in his company, lounging in his study while you wait for him to finish his work. Though his focus is elsewhere, and he decides to turn in early, carrying you to his room where he tucks you in, hugging you to him beneath the blankets. The next morning, he excuses you from your duties, ordering a day of rest and relaxation; you deserve it, after all.

MAMMON

The Avatar of Greed is attending class when he overhears a low-level demon taunting you, throwing insult after insult while you try to focus on your studies; though the longer you ignore them, the more they push back, your face falling as their words leave their mark on your heart. Mammon’s blood is boiling, and he’s out of his seat, towering over the demon in an instant, a hand wrapped around their throat. Lucifer intervenes, putting an end to the chaos, but Mammon is unapologetic, his elder brother’s lecturing doing little to quell the fire still raging beneath the surface. He’s your protector, and he won’t hesitate to defend you—the consequences be damned.

To say he’s worried about you is an understatement, he refuses to leave your side, determined to protect you at all costs. A lowly demon is harassing you? The Great Mammon will deal with them personally, and once he’s finished, they won’t think twice about hurting his human. He loves you, although it’s difficult for him to admit at times, but you’re his world, and he hates to see you upset. Words do hurt, he knows all too well, so he’ll show you how loved you are by holding your hand and pulling you into his warm embrace, allowing you to cry on his shoulder—anything for you. Your tears wet his jacket, body shaking as you sob, finally breaking down from days of bullying. He wishes he noticed sooner, but he’s here now and will take care of you.

As soon as school is over for the day, he’ll make certain you’re comfortable and help you unwind in the peace and quiet of your room; tell him what you want and it’s yours, no questions asked. He’ll order your favorite food, which you enjoy while watching a movie, finding solace in one another’s presence. When you smile for the first time that day he’s elated, appreciating how beautiful you are—heart, body, and soul—if anyone deserves happiness, it’s you. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close, and you kiss his cheek in thanks before resting your head on his chest. The soft touch of your lips renders him speechless, his heart pounding as he breathes in your scent, sweet and heavenly. Once he composes himself, he returns the kiss with fervor, promising to always protect you.

LEVIATHAN

The downside to attending class online is he can’t see you throughout the day. After school he makes sure the two of you have plans, whether it’s playing videos games, watching anime, or simply enjoying each other’s company. He’s devastated when you cancel on him, but more concerned you’re feeling unwell; humans are fragile creatures, and he needs to take care of his Henry. Of course, those self-deprecating thoughts linger at the back of his mind, telling him you cancelled on purpose—who wants to waste their time on a gross otaku like him? However, he collects himself, dismissing them for your sake, and knocks on your bedroom door with trembling hands.

Light cascades from your room into the hall, his eyes widening when they meet yours, your gaze glassy and cheeks stained by your tears. For a moment he wonders if he is to blame, trying to recall everything he said and did since breakfast, to find an answer, only to confuse himself further. Yet you smile at him, anchoring him to reality, and he hates how it fails to reach your eyes. He can’t help enveloping you in his arms, forgetting how to breathe now that you’re so close, and he’s certain his heart is about to break as you begin to sob into his chest, clinging to him in desperation. Your cries hurt him dearly, and he wants to cry himself seeing you upset, but refrains, staying by your side to offer what support he can give.

In the privacy of his room, he’s extra attentive, hesitant but soft touches and worried glances in your direction while he wraps you up in his blankets, even allowing you to hold his Ruri-chan pillow for comfort. The tub is snug with the both of you inside, his face red and burning, though he’s glad you look much happier, safe and warm in his embrace. He puts on a lighthearted anime hoping it’ll lift your spirits further, the laugh that escapes you music to his ears. The episode ends, and you finally tell him the cause of your pain, opening your heart to him, his hold tightening when tears gather in your eyes once again. His insecurities are now forgotten, replaced by a wave of anger that consumes him, and he fights to keep his demonic aura at bay. A lowly demon dares to hurt you? He’ll make them rue the day they decided to torment his player 2. Until then he’ll let you know exactly how special you are, indulging you the rest of the night.

SATAN

Satan is browsing the books in the RAD library when the comfortable silence is unceremoniously shattered, dissolving into chaos in a matter of seconds. Angry shouts reverberate off the walls, forcing their way beneath his skin—warm, uncomfortable, yet addicting—setting him alight. He can feel the intensity of every word, his heart pounding, pulsing in his ears with each syllable, the Avatar of Wrath unable to deny he appreciates the beauty of the heated exchange unfolding before him. Although he considers himself a demon of knowledge, making a name for himself in the Devildom for his intellect and held to high standards, he’s not impervious to his sin. He’s irritated, his concentration lost, but a part of him enjoys the pandemonium, wanting to tempt them further into madness. A scream interrupts his thoughts, a pitiful sound, and his blood runs cold. He knows you, your voice, and to hear you cry out is enough to break his resolve.

A hand firmly closes around your throat, blood welling beneath clawed fingers, as you’re forced into a corner. The panic in your eyes fills him with an uncontrollable rage, and he yearns to rip the heart from the demon who threatens you, the very person he holds dear to his own. Wrath overpowers all rationale, and he doesn’t mind, your life greater than the image he’s meticulously cultivated over centuries. He lunges at the demon without warning, grip bruising as he wrenches them away and drives them into the nearest bookshelf, watching it topple over in a cloud of dust and debris. An eerie hush falls over the library, curious gazes on the fourth born, but he’s indifferent, dragging the wretched creature from the wreckage; a grin spreading across his face at their desperate pleas—they only fuel the fire raging within. However, their life is spared due to Lucifer’s interference; Satan’s sure he’s instilled enough fear in the demon’s mind to last an eternity.

The resulting lecture from Lucifer leaves Satan with a headache. He’s unrepentant, his wrath reduced to an ember, but it still smolders, hot and heavy in his chest. When he enters the House of Lamentation, he finds you waiting to throw your arms around him, and despite his anger, he melts against you, calmed by your presence—so sweet and inviting he could lose himself in your very embrace. You’re his saving grace, and he’ll protect you as fiercely as he loves you, hating to see you scared and vulnerable, especially at the mercy of another. Even now he can see the remnants of fear and taste the salt of your tears as he kisses your cheek, fingers ghosting over the dark bruises on your neck. There’s a twinge of anger, but also dread knowing another hurt you and how quickly they could have taken you from him. The familiar smell of books is soothing, the large stacks scattered about his room bathed in moonlight. You’re curled up in his bed, listening to him read aloud with your head on his shoulder, his free hand stroking idly through your hair. At that moment, you look content, smiling at him, and he can’t help leaning over to capture your lips in a kiss, glad he can bring you comfort during the darkest of nights.

ASMODEUS

After school, Asmodeus sees the exhaustion in your eyes and the lack of color in your face, your natural glow seeming to fade throughout the day. Avoiding his gaze, you wilt in his arms when he pulls you into his embrace, his heart aching with desire when you are resistant to his charms. You don’t look at him in adoration or hug him back as tightly, basking in his beauty and praising him while he kisses your loving smile from your lips. Instead, you stare at the ground, body tensing when he cups your cheek, and although you lean into his touch, tears spring forth, hot beneath his fingertips. He can hardly stomach seeing you so distraught, his darling human, helplessly watching you fall to pieces in front of him.

The halls are silent aside from your sobs as you cry into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck while he carries you up the stairs to his room, whispering words of love and comfort in the hope they’ll soothe the pain that bleeds to the very depths of your soul. He’s grateful you allow him to hold and console you, trusting him to care for you in a moment of vulnerability, clinging to him without fear and seeking out all he’s able to offer. Your tears stain his blouse, and his makeup is mussed, yet he pays no mind, rocking and hushing you until you’re unable to shed another, chest heaving with each strangled breath that escapes you. Placing a tender kiss on your forehead, he hums sweetly, angelic voice lulling you to sleep. He watches over you after tucking you into his bed, affectionately stroking your face. For now, you rest your weary head, and once you awake, he’ll figure out what’s troubling his poor human, hoping he can put your mind at ease.

Dinner is your responsibility tonight, but Asmodeus doesn’t dare wake you, stepping in on your behalf. His brothers are well fed, and he makes sure to prepare an extravagant meal for his love, happy to serve you in the comfort of his bed. In fact, he feeds you himself, and you laugh as he cheerily extends a spoonful in your direction, blessing him with your beautiful smile for the first time that day. Beneath the silken sheets, he lays beside you, and you curl around him, glancing at him shyly before thanking him with a light but sweet kiss he savors long after you’ve parted. Yet you still look pained, and he encourages you to confide in him, cradling your head to his chest. Your voice is strained, barely above a whisper, but he hears every word, blinking tears from his own eyes. How long did you endure such harassment at the hands of those demons—on RAD grounds no less—suffering all on your lonesome. He’s appalled, wishing he could have protected you and sad he could not, however, he’ll make it up to you; anyone who hurts you is better off dead anyway. From here on out, he’ll take greater care of his human, keeping you safe in his arms.

BEELZEBUB

Finally, lunchtime! Beelzebub is weighing his options as he makes a beeline for the cafeteria, the rumble of his stomach echoing loudly in the halls. Though all thoughts of food vanish when he turns the corner to find you on the ground, a group of low-level demons looming over your trembling form. They flee the second they notice the Avatar of Gluttony, reeking of fear. He considers following them, goaded by his anger, which rages within, hot and intense, pulling a feral growl from his throat. However, the sound of your cries reaches his ears, a somber melody that brings him to his knees. He kneels beside you, brows knit in concern, and gently wipes your tears away before catching you as you throw yourself into his embrace. The rest of the world no longer matters, only his human while he holds you in the now empty corridor, heart unbearably heavy.

Carefully, he lifts you off the floor into his arms, mindful of his strength as his holds you, your body feeling soft and warm and awfully fragile under his touch. Yet you lean against him, sighing into his shoulder and seeking comfort from him—a large, scary demon, one of the most powerful in the Devildom. He’s glad he’s able to protect you, but there are times he worries you’ll look at him differently, your eyes wide with worry like the demons’ who ran at the mere sight of him. Your gaze is loving, and you snuggle closer, thanking him; he feels a little lighter knowing you’re safe, and that you trust him to take care of you. The palms of your hands are scraped, blood drying to your skin—a reminder of what those demons did to you—and he presses a kiss to your fingers, vowing to teach them a lesson they surely won’t forget.

The emptiness of his stomach is agonizing, a pain that runs deep, but he desperately wants to stay with you, comforting his sweet human who needs him now more than ever. He’ll gladly miss lunch for you, putting you above his sin despite the influence it holds over him, and tending to your injuries. The school day passes by slowly, however, he keeps a watchful eye on you, your smile filling him with a happiness that helps him through the last of his classes. Afterwards, he offers to bring you to your favorite bakery; food always manages to cheer him up, and he thinks you deserve a treat. On the way home with bags of decadent desserts and pastries, he hums, reaching for your hand, which fits so perfectly in his own. Again, you smile at him, and he’s glad he’s found a place by your side, brightening your day and you his.

BELPHEGOR

The Avatar of Sloth awakes from a dreamless sleep, hating how cold and empty his bed feels without you beside him. In a daze, he wanders into the hall—pillow in hand—the thought of holding you tightly against him, soaking up your warmth, tempting him down the stairs. Most nights he finds himself sneaking into your room and slipping into your bed, your body seeking his out in the darkness and welcoming him into your embrace. He’s thankful you’ve allowed him into your heart, Belphegor cherishing the intimacy between you, a love he once considered a mere fantasy. Though he pauses outside your door with bated breath, listening to the melancholy rise and fall of the cries echoing in the corridor—your cries.

Throwing the door open, he peers into the darkness to find you huddled beneath your blankets, eyes wet with tears as you glance up at him, clearly startled. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, hands shaking, and he swallows against the panic, slightly reassured you’re safe in bed, but the miserable look on your face is more than he can bear. You whisper his name, voice rough and shaky, your pain tangible. The mattress dips beneath him, and he pulls you into his lap, cradling you to him. His gentle gaze sweeps over you—his human who deserves all the love in the three realms—and he kisses your tears away, wishing to free you of your burdens. Sleep can wait. You’re far too precious to him, and he’ll do anything to see you smile again, helping you piece your heart back together even if it takes the rest of the night.

Time is endless with you in his arms, your cries fading into quiet sobs as you lean into his touch, relaxing under the loving caress of his hand on your cheek. You regard him hesitantly, unspoken words on the tip of your tongue, and he’s nothing but encouraging as he kisses your forehead down to the tip of your nose, earning him a small yet beautiful smile that vanishes all too soon. Belphegor is eerily quiet while he listens to you, sad you felt the need to keep this a secret—alone with your worries—angry at himself for not noticing sooner, and livid at the demons who foolishly hurt you, instilling you with such fear you dreaded school each morning; they’ll regret laying a finger on his human, and he knows he’ll enjoy their agonized screams when he gets his hands on them. Until then, he promises to love and protect you, watching over you as you fall into a peaceful sleep at his side.

Tag list: @luminari-mc @yukihaie

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me reader #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #requests #my writing

501 notes · View notes

bokutosbigpectorals · 3 years

Text

Come Sit on my Lap

Time skip Kenma x fem!reader

Kenma wants you to sit on his lap while he streams.

Minors DNI - 18+

Warnings: cockwarming, semi ‘public sex’, secret stream teasing, mild exhibitionism, very very small mention of ‘breeding’ at the end.

Overall he teases you while you cockwarm him on stream. (1.8k words)

A/n: I have this brainrot in my head, along with thigh riding Meian Shugo which I might put out tomorrow~

Enjoy!

“Yeah, yeah I’m on my way, just hold out a little longer,” Kenma said through his mic. He was playing games with some people on stream and you were laying on the bed behind him, LEDs flashing different colours as you stared at your phone. It was pretty late and Kenma was almost done his stream so you figured you’d go make some food for the both of you to enjoy afterwards. You got up carefully and came and kissed his cheek while waving at the camera, prompting chat to spam heart emojis.

“Hi, chat,” you said smiling at the camera, Kenma blushed and turned his head, gently kissing you on the cheek as well. You stood straight and walked to the other side of his chair and leaned near him, your lips brushing the shell of his ear away from the camera so they couldn’t see what you said,

“I’m gonna go make food, but I wish you could eat me instead.”

His body froze and his eyes went wide, you turned back around and slipped out of the room towards the kitchen, a smirk plastered on your face as you left. You knew that teasing him always worked and you knew how much it drove him wild when you teased him while he was on stream, not able to do anything about it. You got to the kitchen and pulled up his stream on your phone, wanting to watch the events unfold as he started winding down his stream for the night. You noticed that he had just finished his game and was currently just talking to the chat, not a sign on his face that you had just teased him. You pouted placing the phone on the counter and walking to the fridge before you heard Kenma’s voice again,

“Hey, hold on, chat, do you guys want to do a small Q and A with Y/N and I?” You scrunched your eyebrows together, scoffing, you just told him you were going to make food, what was he saying? A few seconds later you heard your phone buzz from a text message. You closed the fridge and walked over to your phone, grabbing it and switching to your messages.

Kenma (12:13 am): Come and cockwarm me, kitten.

Your face turned bright red. You knew that Kenma wanted to do something like this on stream, but you didn’t realize it would be tonight. You could feel your core heat up and instantly your hands went clammy as you started walking back to his room. You opened the door and Kenma waved you over, his cock in his hand, stroking it lightly waiting for you to come sit on him.

“Come on, kitten, come sit on my lap,” he coaxed, and you started to remove your pants, knowing full well that the stream couldn’t see below the top of your torsos. You walked over to Kenma and bent down, giving him a sloppy kiss. He grabbed your jaw with one hand, his other hand travelled down your stomach and a finger hooked into your panties as he pulled them down to your ankles. You stepped out of them, your lips still interlocking in a wet kiss, as he pressed his hand against your pussy, dipping his fingers into your folds before rubbing circles onto your clit. He coaxed his hand towards him and your hips instinctively followed, now hovering just above him as you let out small moans into his mouth.

“Sit, now,” he demanded as he removed his hand from your leaking cunt. A small gasp left your mouth as he let his assertiveness out. You turned your body around to face the computer and you lowered yourself onto him, Kenma letting out a small hiss as he sheathed himself inside you.

“Fuck you’re such a naughty slut,” he bit against your ear, your heart raced at the whisper and the fact that you were about to be cockwarming him on stream.

Kenma changed the window back to his camera, your two faces showing up flushed on the screen as he put chat on the screen. Instantly, a smile was on your face as you tried to look presentable for his stream and Kenma started talking as if he wasn’t balls deep in your pussy.

“So, everyone, you know this is the lovely Y/N,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and addressing chat.

“Hi, everyone!” you said cheerfully, as long as you didn’t move, you should be okay, you thought.

“So chat, do you have any questions for us?” You watched as the chat started flooding with questions. Kenma started answering some of the questions that would pop up and his hand slid down your thigh, drawing small circles on your skin.

“Oooh, that’s a good one, what do you like to do for fun?” Kenma said his head turning to face you, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“ Well, I like to read, draw-” instantly your mouth stopped moving as you felt Kenma’s fingers rub against your clit, you knew you couldn’t moan or you would get caught. The feeling of his fingers made you grind your hips, Kenma’s cock rubbing against your walls causing you to let out a gasp.

“You like to draw and what else?” Kenma asked, thoroughly enjoying your reactions.

“Uhm, I also play v-video games,” you breathed. It was getting extremely difficult to focus on anything but Kenma’s fingers circling your puffy clit, making your hips instinctively grind against him causing more of his cock to move inside you. Your hands gripped your thighs, your knuckles white as you tried so hard to focus on anything but Kenma’s cock inside you.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if we played some games together on stream?” Kenma asked, not really pointing the question at you but more so at his chat. He moved on to a different question quickly, but he didn’t stop rubbing those small slow circles on your clit. At this point, you could feel the heat in your core build up, your pussy throbbing against his unmoving cock. Anything you did caused the knot in your stomach to tighten, but Kenma had different plans. He took his hand away as he continued to answer more questions, and you caught your breath slightly, trying to make it subtle so the stream wouldn’t catch on.

“Alright, a couple more questions and then we’re going to get off for the night,” Kenma stated, his hands trailing over your thighs. You tried to force a smile as you read the chat.

You could hear the donation sound go through his headphones and you looked up at his second monitor to see what it said.

“Thank you, xxKodzfan23, for the 100 dollar donation,” Kenma said, his hands stilling, “why don’t you read it for me, love?” You smiled and started speaking before it even crossed your mind what it said.

“Why don’t you two give us a little show?”

The words fell off your lips as Kenma started shaking his leg, your thighs in turn shaking against him and his cock rubbing up against your puffy walls. You could feel the heat in your stomach again, the knot tightening.

“Who’s to say I’m not right now?” Kenma asked and your mouth fell open, looking back at him with wide eyes. He smiled and started laughing, his leg still shaking. “I’m just kidding, I’m just kidding, that’s not family-friendly.”

You shook your head, a small gasp falling from your lips, trying to cover it up with a laugh, as you turned back to the stream playing it off. Your core was so tight now, you were trying your hardest not to fall apart around his cock while on stream because you knew then you wouldn’t be able to hold back. Your hand squeezed Kenma’s thigh as a sort of signal and he grabbed his mouse. Scrolling over the end stream button.

“Alright, guys, well that’s it for us tonight, we’re going to go make some - “ he paused and looked you up and down before smirking and looking back at the camera, “some food.”

“Goodnight, chat,” you got out and forced another smile, waving towards the camera.

“I hope you all have a great night, catch you tomorrow.” Kenma pressed the end stream button and closed all of his tabs.

“Fuck you’re such a good girl, sitting on my cock like that,” he hissed, kissing and biting at your neck.

“I almost came,” you whispered, getting up to get off of him. He gripped your hips tightly and slammed himself into you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, you moaned out, your legs shaking underneath you as he forced you to sit back on his lap. He started bouncing you up and down on his cock, hitting your walls every time. Your body fell forward, your hands gripping his desk as you were finally able to let out the moans you were biting back.

“That’s it, moan for me, let me hear you,” he choked, his hands trailing underneath the shirt you were wearing as your hips took over, bouncing on his cock. You could hear the soft moans leaving his lips and they went directly to your core, the knot in your stomach a tight burning mess at this point.

“I’m gonna- Kenma, I’m gonna cum,” you managed to get out, the overwhelming desire to cum in you flashed through his brain.

“Cum, kitten, come on, then I’m going to cum in this wet cunt of yours,” he breathed out, the demand hitting his tongue and then your core snapped, your legs shaking as you cried out. Your body flew backwards into his lap against his chest. Your walls tightened around his cock and he groaned as he continued to force your hips up and down on his cock, cumming soon after.

“Fuck, kitten, you’re so good for me,” he said, continuing to bounce you on his cock, slowing down as you both came down from your high. You laid back against his chest, your arm coming up behind his neck as your heart rate slowed down. You felt his soft hair tickle your neck as he placed more kisses on it, his hands running along your thighs and squeezing.

“Next time warn me,” you breathed out a laugh, getting up off of him, your mixture of cum leaking down your thigh.

“That’s not as fun,” he laughed, taking off his sweater to wrap around your lower half so you wouldn’t leak on the floors, “I ordered food before I texted you, so let’s go take a shower and relax.”

You nodded and headed to the bathroom, Kenma in step behind you.

#Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu x fem!reader #fem!reader #Kenma Kozume #Kodzuken #Kenma x reader #Kenma x fem!reader #slight exhibitionism #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x y/n #hq x reader #Kenma Kozume x reader #TW cockwarming #tw exhibitionism #i literally have cockwarming and thigh riding brainrot rn

734 notes · View notes

seriouslysnape · 3 years

Note

Hi!❣️ Your writing is pretty cool, and I love the way you portray Sev, especially!

If it isn't a bother, of course... Could I make a request? Where Snape and the Reader are expecting, and go through all the nine months (like, through things like cravings, mood swings Snaddy has to endure, buying the child's stuff and decorating the room, all of that), till delivery? Only if you'd like the 'prompt', of course.

Wish you a nice day☺️

I LOVE THISSSSSS. YES DAD SEV >>>

Paternal Figure

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language, Emetephobia, Sexual implications.

Word Count: 5,161

“We’re going to be one happy family.”

“How much longer?” Severus questioned, eyeing the pregnancy test that was lying face down on the bathroom counter.

You looked at your wrist watch that was secured on your trembling hand. You saw that it had been more than enough time for the pregnancy test to do its job. A quivering sigh flowed from your chest as you reached for the test with trembling fingers.

“It should be ready.” You replied.

Severus sat up straighter from where he sat on the bathroom floor, his blood pumping with eagerness and nervousness. You held the test to your chest for a second with your eyes closed and head lulled towards the ceiling.

You and Severus wanted a baby badly. After being married for a few years, the baby fever was becoming harder to resist between the two of you combined. It started out as a casual thing. Severus first briefly mentioned how there was still an empty room in the house that needed to be occupied. You assumed that he meant as an office space or maybe even a large walk in closet.

But when Severus suggested that the two of you turn that space into a nursery, you knew what he was implying. You had always wanted to have kids with Sev. In the beginning, Severus wasn’t totally sure how he felt about having a baby. He wasn’t great with younger people, and he was always afraid he wouldn’t be a good dad.

However, the longer the two of you were together and the more life you shared together, the more he wanted nothing more than to put a baby in you. He wanted to raise a child and teach it all the wonders of the wizarding world. He wanted your baby to be perfect.

The two of you sat and chatted for a long time about it, not wanting to rush into things. It was a huge deal after all; bringing a human into the world was a life changing ordeal. You talked it over, and you both happily agreed that you would start trying for a baby.

You admittedly became a little obsessed with getting pregnant in the first few months. You tracked your menstrual and ovulation cycles much more than usual, eventually memorizing everything down to the minute. You tried any wizard (and even a few Muggle) tricks in the book to increase your chances of conceiving, including basically pouncing on Severus any chance he was around.

If you had a free minute to spare, you were shoving him into bed and having sex with him. At first, Severus found it rather endearing that you were so excited to have a kid, but he became concerned as time went on. Getting pregnant isn’t always a quick process. Some women can so much as look at their husband and get results while some spend a better half of their life trying to even get a positive pregnancy test.

You were proving to be one of the harder cases.

With each negative pregnancy test, the more frantic you became. You felt like your fertility window was closing in on you rapidly, and if you didn’t get pregnant soon, it’d be too late. The first few negatives didn’t phase you much, but by the fifth or sixth, you were feeling discouraged. Severus was much more patient than you during all of this, holding you flush to him when you burst into tears of frustration.

It had become a monotonous and vicious cycle. You’d try to get pregnant, buy a pregnancy test, get a negative result, and fall into a weeping heap onto the bathroom floor. After one particularly hard let down, Severus stepped in. He was rocking your sobbing frame in his arms, hushing you and comforting you as best he could.

He suggested that the two of you take a break for a while, and that maybe you were trying too hard. The stress couldn’t have been good for you as a whole, and maybe taking a more casual approach would be best.

“Here’s what I’m thinking, my love. You and I take this step by step. We continue life as normal,” He said softly; “If you get pregnant then that’s good, and if you don’t, then we remain calm and try again. If much longer goes by, then we can go see your doctor.”

You nodded into his chest with heartbreaking sobs, agreeing that this had taken a huge toll on your body. You apologized for your crazy behavior, but Severus only gave a light laugh and kissed your head.

“No, no, my dear. Don’t be sorry. I want this just as much as you do.” He consoled, sweeping you off of the floor.

You were a bit apprehensive about Severus’ approach to this, but you were willing to try anything. Fast forward a few weeks later, and this was the first test you had taken since taking Severus’ advice.

“Sev...” You croaked out; “What if it’s negative?”

You were sitting against the door in your tiny bathroom, Severus sitting on the wall across from you. Your knees were almost touching one another’s as he replied.

“Then we accept it, take a few days, and try again. It’ll be alright, [Y/N].” He reassured, resting a hand on your knee in a loving way.

You exhaled deeply, already half expecting to be disappointed. You nodded, and quickly flipped the test so you could read it. Your heart hit your feet and bounced back into your ribcage at the sight. You were stoically silent as you stared in silence at the test.

Severus was watching with a clenched jaw, prepared to comfort you in case it wasn’t what you wanted to see. You kept looking at it for a few more seconds to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The double pink lines were as clear as day.

You were pregnant.

Tears filled your eyes, but they were tears of happiness. You turned the test so he could see it.

“It’s positive,” You said, smiling through the tears streaming your face; “We’re going to have a baby.”

Severus’ jaw fell open and stars of delight shot over his eyes. He himself gazed down at the test as if it would explode right in his hands.

“You’re pregnant...” He breathed out.

You nodded, wiping away at the tears with a genuine laugh. A blinding smile appeared on Severus’ face as he moved to pull you into a tight embrace. A few tears leaked from his eyes as well, the two of you mumbling “I love yous” to each other as you cried out the adrenaline and undeniably glee that you were feeling. It had almost been a year since you started trying, and now it seemed that it had paid off.

You were going to be parents.

The first trimester of your pregnancy was less than pleasant. While you were eternally grateful to be carrying your first child, you weren’t too thrilled about the symptoms that came with it. You were violently sick for the first few weeks, basically bringing back up anything you tried to hold down. Even something as mild as pumpkin juice was enough to make you sick just from the smell.

As disgusting as it was, Severus was by your side any time you fell ill.

“It’s okay, darling. Let it all out.” He soothed, rubbing circles onto your back as you let out another hurl.

You seemingly puked up everything you had eaten in the last ten years into the toilet bowl, a new groan escaping your chest every time you had a chance to take a breath. Severus kept your hair out of your face as best as he could, trying not to visibly grimace every time you threw up.

You closed the lid of the toilet for a minute, draping your arm over the top of it and resting your forehead on the heated skin of your forearm.

“Don’t look at me. I don’t want you to see me like this.” You grumbled miserably.

He gave a chuckle, and even though you couldn’t see it, he raised his left hand to reveal his silver wedding ring.

“In sickness and in health.” He said, wrapping his long legs around your from behind, resting his head on your back.

“I think this is an exception to that vow.” You joked, hoping that the relief you were feeling was to signal the end of today’s sickness.

Severus hummed.

“I think that this is exactly what it was referring to,” He corrected, his heart fluttering when you lifted your head with a weak smile; “Just as beautiful as ever.”

You snorted at that, but you were heartwarmed.

“How did I ever deserve you?” You asked, falling into his open arms.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

When you were actually able to have an appetite, you wanted any and every food imaginable. The pregnancy cravings were insanely hard to ignore, and it was even harder to ignore the weird things you craved.

“What...is that?” Severus questioned cautiously as he entered the kitchen, catching you in the middle of biting something he couldn’t even discern.

You looked at him with wide eyes and stopped mid-chomp. You didn’t respond, not even sure how to explain this to him. His gaze averted to the open pantry, and saw that mostly everything had been raided and placed on the kitchen counter. He had noticed that satisfying your cravings had proven to be the most difficult thus far. He inspected the food item in your hand and his stomach lurched when he realized what it was.

“Is that a treacle tart with...” He trailed off, barely able to finish the thought.

You finished his sentence, rather ashamed.

“...pickles.” You confessed.

Severus was sure that his face had turned a nasty shade of green at the thought of your concoction. He shuddered and made you put it down. You had always been creative and experimental in the kitchen, but this was too far.

“Okay, I’ve been supportive of every strange food combination you’ve come up with, but I draw the line at treacle pickle tarts.” He said with a voice full of amusement.

You whined.

“I know it’s weird, but I can’t help it. Everything we have sounds good.”

He scratched the back of his head. He never liked to tell you how to live your life, but there was no way that this was good for you or the baby.

“I don’t think Little One is going to appreciate pickles and desserts.” He noted, placing a hand on your very small baby bump.

“Little One” was the nickname that he had coined for your developing child. You and Severus had decided early on that you wanted to keep the baby’s gender a surprise up until delivery. Severus hated to keep referring to the baby as...well, “the baby”. So he had instinctively come up with all kinds of nicknames along the way.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that Little One is the only reason I want pickles.” You snapped back.

“It’s not the pickles. It’s the pickles with the tart that I can’t stomach.” Severus explained.

You sneered at him, but Severus continued before you could snark back at him.

“I’ll tell you what, princess. How about we whip up a bunch of your favorite foods, and we’ll have a nice dinner together?” He offered.

Your belly grumbled at the sound of that. You nodded in agreement, and you and Severus prepared a heavenly meal.

On top of the all day morning sickness and the nauseating cravings, your hormones were going absolutely nuts. You had never experienced such frequent mood changes like this, and poor Severus was the victim of all your emotional outbursts. It seemed as if you were blowing up at the smallest of details.

“Damn it, Sev. How many times have I told you not to leave your socks on the floor?” You hissed, angrily picking up his dirty socks.

Severus poked his head out of the bathroom that was adjoined to your bedroom, a guilty look on his face.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I left them there.” He said truthfully.

“Just like how you didn’t realize that you left the sink faucet dripping or how you forgot to put the pillows back on the bed when you got up at 10 in the morning?” You mocked, throwing his socks into his laundry basket.

He caught how aggravated you were, and exited the bathroom to talk things over. Severus didn’t want you to be upset with him, but he knew you were just going through a lot of changes and couldn’t really control your emotions well.

“I assure you that I didn’t do those things on purpose,” He said, not even an ounce of irritation in his voice; “I’ll pick up after myself.”

His light and friendly tone made you realize that you had overreacted once again. Severus had not once lost his temper with you, no matter how bad you had nagged him. Your shoulders slumped and you looked at your feet that were close to being covered by your steadily growing bump.

You felt bad for being on his ass about something 24/7. He was trying his best to help you and make your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. You yelling at him all the time wasn’t fair to him.

“I’m sorry, Sev. It’s not you.” You uttered for the hundredth time in the last three months.

He only smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Not to worry, my dear,” He mewled; “I can handle being screamed at for as long as it takes.”

The second trimester was actually easier than the first as far as symptoms goes. Your morning sickness had subsided, you had adapted to your ever changing hormones, and you weren’t tempted to eat everything in sight. While the symptoms were still there, they didn’t completely dictate your life.

You and Severus were well into the finer intricacies of planning for the arrival of your baby boy or girl. You were in the process of converting your extra bedroom into a nursery, which was a challenge for Severus. He was a shitty interior decorator, which wouldn’t be an issue if he hadn’t insisted that he decorate the baby’s room.

Severus wanted to be as involved as possible, never wanting you to think that he wasn’t there for you. You were ecstatic with the idea of him taking charge of the nursery, but you soon realized that wasn’t a good idea.

“We are not painting the baby’s room BLACK, Severus.” You protested, eyeing the cans of black paint on the floor.

Severus had gone out and bought all kinds of paint supplies. Paintbrushes, paint rollers, stencils, tape, etc. He was adamant about doing it all by hand (as opposed to using magic; a suggestion that he was horribly offended at), and had taken it upon himself to buy everything.

You had forgotten that there wasn’t much color interest in the world of Severus Snape.

“And why not? There’s black in other parts of the house.” He argued.

You put your hands on your hips, your back beginning to arch from the weight of your five month swelling belly.

“Yes, but this is a baby’s room. I don’t think he or she is going to like it,” You retorted back; “It’ll be too dark and...scary. I want Little One to be comfortable in here.”

Severus looked around. Perhaps, black was too extreme for such a small human. He looked a tad defeated and disappointed in himself. He was trying his hardest. You caught his dejected look.

“Oh, honey. I know you want it to be perfect,” You said, taking his face into your hands; “We can do it together. Maybe we can sneak a bit of black in here somewhere.”

He nodded.

“So, what color should we paint the room?” He asked.

You looked around this time, biting your lower lip in thought. You wanted to have gender neutral colors, and something that would be cozy for the baby.

“How about we paint the walls white? That way we can add pops of color wherever we see fit.” You said after a moment of thought.

Severus agreed, but was holding to your promise to have at least some black in the room. The nursery was an ongoing project, lasting about a week and a half. The crib was the last item placed in the room, and it was complete. You and Severus stood in the middle, basking in the finished nursery.

“It looks great, S.” You said, looking at the black painted changing table and the mobile above the crib.

“It does. I’m glad you helped me.” He admitted, eyeing the moving pictures on the walls.

You wrapped your arms around your husband’s waist, his lips falling to your head in response.

“We’re going to be one happy family.” You announced.

Severus laughed into your hair, his heart beating with hope.

“We already are.”

You had officially made it past the halfway mark, and your due date was quickly approaching. There was still so much to do, and not a lot of time to do it. Your bump was already huge, and you still had another trimester to go. You were getting to the point where swollen feet and an aching lower back was crippling your ability to go out and do much.

You were laid out on the sofa with Severus rubbing your tired feet. You were fighting the aching pain in your back and legs from the unevenly distributed weight from your midsection.

“I really need to go out today.” You winced as another round of soreness flooded your body.

Severus’ careful hands continued to massage the aching muscles of your feet.

“Why, love? You can surely go on a day where you’re feeling in higher spirits.” He said.

While he wasn’t totally wrong, you were at the point where every day was the same as the last. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t have a “higher spirits” day for a while.

“I suppose I could. But I need to get baby clothes, pacifiers, bottles.” You grunted, exhaling heavily.

You really needed to do this, but you just weren’t feeling up to it. Then you had an idea. Since Severus didn’t get to put all his effort into the nursery, you thought you could give him a second chance.

“Severus, could you possibly go out and buy baby stuff today?” You suddenly asked.

You were honestly expecting him to say no, considering he knew nothing about baby fashion. Instead, his face brightened and he leapt up from the couch.

“Of course! Why didn’t you just ask?” He queried, giddy with joy.

You laughed at his anticipation, giving him a few instructions.

“Alright, Sev. Don’t buy anything ridiculous or anything that’s made of uncomfortable material,” You said; “And do NOT get anything Slytherin related. As much as you would like it, we have no clue what Little One is going to be sorted into when he or she is old enough.”

Severus groaned.

“Not even a-”

“No Slytherin stuff.”

“Well, what about a-”

“No, Severus.”

He groaned again, but accepted your request. As badly as he wanted his daughter or son to be a Slytherin, there was always the chance that they wouldn’t be. He’d love them regardless of what House they were in, but it would tickle him to death if they were a Slytherin.

So Severus went out into Diagon Alley with extra pep in his step, jittery as he went from store to store getting stuff for his little girl or boy. Severus had never paid much attention to baby clothes, and now that he was looking, his heart was swelling with excitement.

There were so many cute sweaters, onesies, socks, and pajama sets that absolutely made Severus burst with joy. He would pick out about a dozen outfits to start out with, knowing that you’d have to go buy more once the baby was older. But each time he thought he had enough, he’d spot two or three more outfits that he just had to buy.

He could not WAIT to see his baby in all of this stuff. It had obviously been a while since he was a child, and he was amazed at all of the new things that had been invented to make parenting easier and childhood more fun.

He bought a pacifier for every day of the week, and enough toys that would last your kid through kindergarten. He bought blankets and stuffed animals and anything else that a baby MIGHT want. Your baby was going to be spoiled to the max.

Truth be told, Severus went a little overboard with his purchases. He came back with no less than ten bags full of baby materials. You not-so-gracefully lifted yourself from the couch when he entered, several bags hooked onto each of his arms. He had a proud smile plastered on his face.

“Oh Merlin, Severus! What all did you buy??” You questioned, eyes bugging out at all the goodies in front of you.

“Clothes, pacifiers, bottles. Everything you asked for.” Severus stated innocently, you rifled through the bags at all the baby wonders.

“And toys, blankets, and stuffed animals.” You finished his list.

You looked at Severus with an entertained smile, his cheeks glowing red.

“I just want Little One to be happy.” He shrugged meekly.

You let out a soft “awh” and captured his soft lips in a sweet kiss. He already loved this baby so much that it melted your heart.

“With you as their dad, they absolutely will be.”

You had never been happier to enter your third and final trimester. You were in the home stretch, and you were so excited to meet your baby. You were about to pop like a balloon and, quite frankly, you had enough of it. Don’t make any mistake about it, you had cherished every moment of being pregnant, but you were ready to get some somewhat decent sleep without being kicked in the ribs every 5 minutes.

Although, with a newborn around, you weren’t sure how much sleep you would get.

Over the course of your pregnancy, Severus had become more and more protective the more your baby grew. Now that your due date was only a few days out, he jumped at any sudden movement or noise. He had eyes and ears like a hawk. He came barreling into the living room, completely naked and dripping with water from where he had just stepped into the shower.

“Darling, what was that? Are you alright?” He asked frantically as if he had just heard an airstrike.

You looked up from your book, readjusting the pillow that was underneath your massive belly to support the weight.

“Severus. I sneezed.” You declared.

Relief washed over him, and he ran a hand through his damp hair.

“Oh. Do you need anything?” He asked you for the millionth time that evening.

You laughed shortly, nodding your head.

“Yes. I’m fine,” You said; “Please try to enjoy your shower.”

Severus had been on your tail nonstop for the last three weeks. Even though most pregnancies go the full 40 weeks, your doctor said that labor could be expected once you hit 36. Sev didn’t want you out of his sights in case you went into labor early. He didn’t want to miss anything.

You had begged him to break away just for a minute, for his sake and yours. He padded back to the shower, ignoring the way his heart was thumping in his chest. You went back to your book, grinning to yourself at your anxious husband.

Once Severus was showered and somewhat calmer, you had grown tired and were ready to get in bed. Growing and carrying a baby had really tanked your energy levels, but Severus didn’t mind going to bed early. As long as he knew you and the baby were safe, he was content.

He laughed out loud when you slid into bed wearing only a pair of panties and a t-shirt that you had used a spell to stretch out. It was the only sleepwear that fit you due to your risen belly.

Getting comfortable was next to impossible, but you had gotten used to it over the last few months. You didn’t mind, because you knew it’d be back to normal soon. Severus was eyeing your tummy, looking to you with expectation once you were settled.

“Go ahead, Sev.” You giggled, knowing what he wanted.

Every single night since you had been pregnant, Severus would rub your belly and tell the human growing inside of you goodnight. Severus shimmied down to where his face was in front of your bump. He lifted the shirt up to reveal your bare belly. He left a kiss on the stretched skin, carefully placing both of his hands on you.

“Hello in there,” Severus said, smiling proudly when he felt the baby move at the sound of his voice; “Are you still kicking your mother?”

You even nodded at that, thinking about all the times that the baby had soccer kicked your ribcage or hit your bladder just right. You placed one hand over one of Severus’, and put your other in his hair as he spoke.

“I’m so ready to meet you. I love you so much already. Other than Mum, I never thought I could ever love someone this much,” Severus spoke gently; “You two are my whole world.”

You rubbed his hair as you listened. Severus had been nothing short of amazing during this process. He was more than you could ever ask for. This baby was going to be loved endlessly.

“I don’t know how great of a father I’ll be. I didn’t exactly have ideal parents. I admit that I don’t have a model to go off of. But I will love you no matter what,” He spoke; “I hope you sleep well, Little One. I can’t wait to see you.”

He pressed another kiss to the side of your belly, before returning to your side. You were misty eyed at his words, turning so you were facing him.

“Oh, Severus. You’re going to be a wonderful dad. I’ve seen the way you love this child,” You assured; “Little One is going to love you. And there’s no one else I’d rather bring a baby into this world with.”

Severus still had a modest amount of nerves, but it was drowned out with joy. He was so ready for this baby.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you, Sev.” You whispered back.

You leaned to kiss him, but just as your lips touched, you felt a contraction and a massive gush of fluid flushed out between your legs, soaking both of your lower halves. A startled gasp fell from your mouth, and Severus eyes grew about three times their normal size. You both knew what that meant.

Little One was about to make his/her entrance into the world.

Getting to the hospital from the time that labor began was a blind rush. Severus was positively panicked, which didn’t help your attempts to remain relaxed. He had spent 9 months preparing for this moment, and he was still caught off guard.

The hospital was busy, but you had a team of nurses and doctors ready to go. You were wheeled into a delivery room, your doctor checking to see how dilated you were. He let you know that you had one of the fastest dilations he had ever seen, because you were already at 10 centimeters. There was no time for an epidural or a spell.

It was time to push.

The nurses got your legs into delivery position, Severus taking your hand as the doctor and nurses guided you through it. You gave a hard push, screaming bloody murder and squeezing the circulation out of Severus’ hand.

“You’re doing great, my love. Keep pushing.” He praised you.

Your head fell back onto the pillow with gruff, heavy breaths. You were filled with a pain you couldn’t describe. You needed this baby out. The doctor gave you a second to rest, before instructing you to push again. You took a deep breath, every muscle in your body tensing up as you pushed. Severus scrunched his nose at how badly you were hurting his hand, but he didn’t dare say anything.

The baby’s head and shoulders were out, ear splitting cries echoing through the room. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Severus peeked between your legs, and you saw the way his face filled with pure love as he saw your baby for the first time.

“Oh, [Y/N]. Little One is gorgeous...” He breathed, wanting you to push again so you could be able to see; “Push again, darling. You’re almost there.”

The nurses and Severus were encouraging you as you pushed hard a few more times, your baby finally entering into the world. Severus was a little too squeamish to cut the cord, but he watched every single movement as the doctors and nurses cut the umbilical cord and got them cleaned up. You were breathing heavily, your entire body shaking from the strenuous action. You whimpered out to Severus, who had a better viewpoint than you did.

“Is the baby okay? Please tell me the baby’s okay...” You whined out, desperate to see him/her.

Severus was close to crying, but it was the happiest he had been in his entire life.

“The baby is perfect. You did so well, my love.” He said, kissing your sweaty forehead.

The chaos in the room died down, and one of the nurses had swaddled the crying baby. She gave a huge, kind smile and set the baby in your arms.

“Say hello to your baby girl.” She cooed.

Tears fell from your eyes as she was placed into your arms. Her cries dwindled out at the feeling and sound of your and Severus’ voices. She was the most stunning baby you had ever seen. Severus felt something awaken in him. A side of him that had been itching to come out.

“A girl...oh, a girl.” You cried happily.

Severus sniffed, holding back tears.

“She’s beautiful. She’s perfect.” Sev croaked.

He placed a kiss on her forehead, her small baby whimpers making his heart explode. The two of you sat in silence, raking over your baby’s perfection. After a minute, you looked up at Severus with a smile.

“I just thought of something we have to do.” You said.

Panic flashed over his face again. You had done everything he thought. What could there possible be to do?

“What is that, darling?” He acquired.

You giggled, kissing Severus’ cheek.

“We’ve got to pick a name for her.”

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape x you #severus #severus snape x y/n #alan rickman #Harry Potter #harry potter snape #severus snape imagine #severus snape blurb #seriouslysnape

519 notes · View notes

iguessilovebakugou · 3 years

Text

Kill the Lights and Kiss My Eyes || Domestic!Bakugou x Wife!Reader [ +18 ]

I’ll be honest, I’m still so confused what HOH!* is, but...fuck, I know what domestic smut is. I guess it’s finally time I take the fucking plunge, baby.

Congrats Anon - this is my first smut drabble. I hope you're happy.

CW: NSFW, Oral, Cunnilingus, Rough Kinks: Lip biting, body worship, powerplays, Bakugou on his knees, Rougher Sex Word Count: 2.8K Pairings: Pro!Bakugou x F!Reader

“So moving forward, I really think we should start having the clients be aware of the changes before they even get to that portion of the contract.”

“I agree. I think that way, we’ll have ample time to inform them of the changes to how we handle their business.”

“Nng, Katsuki what the fuck?”

“Do you think we should create a contract specifically for this change? I think that might be best, that way they can’t say they never heard about it.”

“P-Please, I...I’m in a-”

“That’s probably a good idea. Mrs. Bakugou - what do you think? Is that something you could do?”

He had been a terror the second he got home...and he had only been home for all of 2 minutes.

He had been gone on some sort of mission for an entire month. The first week was fine, the second wasn’t so bad. The third? The third was torture. He would never say it, never admit it out loud, but he missed you. It was subtle ways - to mask the fact that you were all he could think about those past two days. Letting you know what time he would be arriving, complaining the whole ordeal was taking to long, and in the moments where he could - calling you and just letting the silence hang around you. Getting as close to you as he humanly possibly could.

The moment you heard that door open, you knew Katsuki would be...unruly, but this was...okay, it wasn’t entirely unexpected.

“I think her connection went down again.”

It happened a lot actually.

His nails drug down the skin of your thighs, leaving bright and angry pink marks until they his hands gripped your pelvis. With a yelp, you were tugged further down into your office chair - which was already pretty damp with his affections. You were left a groveling, mewling mess as he continued his attack. The knew position gave him ample room to lavish your clit with more attention, running the tip of his tongue over and around it in circles before diving back inside you. You tried to get a word out edge wise, but the moment his tongue slid against your walls, you were done.

“Fuck...fuck, babe.” A shiver shot up your spine as his tongue pushed further inside you. It reached as far as it could go, lapping at the very core of you. Each movement drew out the most desperate of cries. He had only just begun and already you were quickly dissolving into a pile of rather pathetic whimpers as you curled around him. "Please, I...I’m...”

“Mrs. Bakugou, can you hear us?”

If you didn’t respond, they would grow suspicious. You could get in trouble, you would have to try and explain why your connection only every had a problem on the days your husband got home. You reached, desperately for the spacebar on your desktop, trying to let them know you were in fact still there.

But Katsuki’s hand shot out, quickly abandoning your thigh and snatching your wrist. He didn’t pull away from you, refusing to slide his tongue out from inside you. You looked down at him, through lidded eyes. Another moan, fingers gripping the arms of your work chair when you felt the growl in his throat, felt the words he was trying to say against your lips. They sent shockwaves up to the top of your skull and curling your toes. You looked down at him through lidded eyes, desperate for some semblance of reprieve.

Don’t answer it.

“...ah.”

Fuck Katsuki Bakugou. Fuck the fact he knew just how to touch you, to melt your will just enough to mold you into whatever shape he desired. If he wanted to touch you, wanted to drive you over the edge at this very moment, who were you to deny him that? Without another moment’s hesitation, you reached over your chair and grabbed the cord connecting your computer to the outlet. With a grunt, you yanked, tugging the plug out of the wall and sending it scattering to the wooden floor with a Thud!

The voices from your meeting stopped and the screen behind you went dark. The only thing keeping your office lit was the sun, which was already starting to nestle behind the trees of your backyard. Katsuki paused, only a moment to watch what you were doing. His expression, while cautious, seemed...surprised. His eyes glowed in the light, his panting now more pronounced that the voices of your superiors weren’t droning on above it.

You swallowed, harshly. Your mouth was dry and your tongue felt like cotton. It was still hard to breathe, still hard to think - no hope for any sort of long winded sentences. But he had stopped, watching you now, and waiting - for you. He had been so terribly awful, but you could see the patience nestled in his face. He wasn’t going to make a move until you spoke.

Your voice was low, deep in your chest as your fingers found their way into his wild, blond hair.

“If you’re gonna fuck me - then fuck me. ”

It wasn’t a just an invitation - it was something that he loved almost as much as you: a challenge. His eyes turned more wild and with another guttural noise, his lips curled up into a smile.

“You’re gonna regret asking.”

If you had any doubt left in your mind that he was telling the truth, it was swiftly quelled. Katsuki shut his eyes and pushed back against you. Your chair - propelled by the sheer force of him - went crashing back against the wall. The action yanked a gasp from you as his tongue was forced further inside you, reaching a new depth you hadn’t expected. And then it was gone. Still, his mouth refused to leave you, his lips now wrapped around your clit. You felt empty, only for a moment - until two of his calloused fingers slide in deep and curled, rubbing your warmth quick and tight.

You cried out, wrapping your legs around his shoulders to draw him closer. To keep him right where the two of you wanted him to be. No longer inhibited by some meetings about contracts that didn’t matter, you let your cries be heard. You threw your head back against the window, resting it there while and moaned to your hearts content. Your neighbors would hear surely, but let them. It shouldn’t be a secret that your husband knew how to unravel you, that the man you loved had memorized every tiny spot that turned you into a puddle at his touch.

Katsuki’s eyes never left your face. You could feel him watching you. And when his fingers curled up further, tugging at your core - fireworks erupted. It wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, not just yet, but it was enough to draw your back up straight. Your fingers tightened around his hair, your legs wrapped tighter around him. “Keep...that...again...please.”

You could feel him chuckle against you. The whine came from you, even before he drew his fingers back. His tongue was drawn over the top of you. In another breath, his lips wrapped around your clit. And he started there again.

In moments like this, Katsuki never played fair. You were certain half of what he did was to torture you, while the other half was because he liked watching you squirm and wiggle under his touch. He would never say it out loud but you knew he adored seeing you like this, knowing full well no one else in the world got to see you such a begging, needy mess. It was his little secret to keep. And he was so very good at keeping secrets.

He deserved to be rewarded for it.

He didn’t expect you to reach out. He didn’t expect your fingers to trail under his jaw bone, to pull him up and away from you. For a moment, he snarled, not wanting to budge from his position. But then he felt the urgency and, albeit begrudgingly, he lifted his head. His eyebrow was cocked, his eyes narrowed and his glistening lips curled into a sneer. “What?”

You gripped him by the fabric of his shirt, tugging forward and up to meet you. The steadfast resolution to bring you to climax quickly faded as you pressed your lips to his. A chaste kiss at first, soft and sweet. One more, drawing him into you...

Your teeth found his bottom lip, gripping it and tugging it back, nipping hard enough to break the skin and draw a drop of blood against your tongue. You smirked at the sharp intake of his breath, the way his body tensed at the action. For as much as he knew how to unravel you, you equally knew the little notions that could ruin him. The right places to touch him to make his knees buckle, to make him chase you for more. And - like clockwork - the moment your fingers slid down his abdomen to run over the rise of him, Katsuki’s entire being shivered, his body leaned into your touch.

You had been with him long enough to know when the façade was crumbling to the ground. You could feel him twitch under you touch, feel the pulse of his desire. His hands against your thighs gripped you just a bit tighter, his skin grew a bit hotter, his kiss was just a bit deeper.

The groan you had elicited from Katsuki’s chest was intoxicating. You could feel the rumble underneath your skin, crawling up your veins and fogging your thoughts. The existence of you was his drug, just as he was to you.

You took advantage of his parted lips, sliding your tongue against his. He reciprocated in his own way, immediately fighting for dominance. The chair slammed back against the wall, but this time you were prepared and so was he. You slipped effortlessly out of your chair and into his lap. His hands, calloused and rough, gripped your ass to pull you tight against him. He grinded up against you in abandon, grunting softly against your lips. His hands on your ass squeezed, making sure to hold you taut against him as he desperately rutted against you.

The waiting was turning into madness - and judging by how quickly his hand reached for the hem of his pants - he readily agreed. It was difficult for him, fumbling with the buckle and edging the fabric down over his hips. You almost laughed, and would have if his mouth hadn’t captured yours before anything more than a gasp could escape.

And then you felt it: the head of him, dripping with want, press against your entrance. One final time, you felt his eyes on you. Behind his grunting and growling, behind his shaking fingers, he was asking. Making sure this was okay. If you were alright with this.

In response, you pressed down against him. “Please,” You begged, just a whisper in his ear. You felt him quake beneath you. “Fuck me, Katsuki.”

He drove up into you and the force of his weight inside of you - although familiar - always drew a cry. Katsuki paused, only for a moment, each breath he took shaking. In that moment, there was nothing but the weight of him inside you - every glorious inch of him. The world was empty - save for the two of you in that office. You opened your eyes, taking him in. The wild blonde hair, the rough skin dotted with sweat, the way his shoulders rose and fell as he tried to contain himself. As he tried to keep himself steady and not rut into you like an animal.

He wanted to make sure this lasted as long as possible. There was no telling when he would be dragged away from you again.

Your fingers ran through his hair, gently holding it to tug his face out from where it was buried in the nape of your neck. Gently, you peppered kisses over his face - across his forehead, over his eyes, on the tip of his nose. There was a moment his hips bucked, to try and reestablish who was in control...but it faltered quickly. He soaked in every ounce of affection, relished every gentle touch you bestowed upon him.

His voice, so quiet and ragged when he finally spoke, was not a surprise.

“I’m going to ruin you.”

You huffed, your lips against his temple, dragging against his skin. “Then ruin me.”

He was up in a flash. A moment later, your back was against the desk as his mouth resumed its assault on yours. It was smart - seeing as you cried out in absolute ecstasy when he began to pound into you.

As promised - Katsuki was most certainly trying to ruin you. Your hands scrambled, your fingers wrapped around his arms, gripping him as he began to pound into you. There was no hesitation - each thrust was deliberate, their soul purpose to drag each and every lewd noise from you that they could. And they did. While he refused to pull his mouth from yours, that didn’t stop you from moaning, gasping and mewling every time his cock buried itself inside you.

The sound of his hips hitting your ass with such force was almost enough to drown out the sound of the desk skirting across the floor. You paid no mind as the pictures lining it’s edge went clattering to the floor and shattering upon impact. You paid no mind as your phone - buzzing away on the other side - sliding off the desk as well. You tried to keep your mind straight, to try and stay grounded. But you couldn’t - Katsuki was too much.

His thrusts grew faster, less timed, erratic as he drew closer and closer to his breaking point. You finally opened your eyes, looking up to see him staring down at you. The smirk on his face was a perfect blend of frustrating and heart pounding. You greeted it with your own smile. “F-...fuck, babe...”

“Beg for it.”

You grunted when his hands joined in, slamming you down against his thrusts. You gritted your teeth, swearing again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” You gasped when he did it again...and again...and again.

“Beg. For. It.”

Each word was accentuated with a thrust. Each thrust was accentuated with a cry of pleasure. God he knew he was going to get his way. He knew that no matter what, you wanted the same thing as he did. He was just going to torture you until he heard you admit it out loud.

Just for him. Only for him.

“I...I want you to...Fuck, Katsuki!”

“What do you- ah...” His hips refused to slow as he let out a grunt. He lowered his body down, pressing his chest against yours and trapping you between him and the desk. His lips found their way to your ear, his voice low - barely above a growl. “What do you want me to do?”

He knew what you wanted him to do. “I...I want you to...”

Your arms wrapped around his neck, your face burying itself against his shoulder. Your mind was staring to go blank as you dissolved into a mess of curses and moans. But he wasn’t going to stop until you answered him.

“Cum...I want you to...cum...”

“Where?”

“Fucking damn it, Katsuki!”

“Where?”

The heat inside you was unbearable now. The pleasure was forcing all logical thought out the window.

“I...just...”

You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate.

“please...”

And judging by the absolute bliss in his eye, he wasn’t going to hold out much longer either.

“I-Inside! Cum inside me!!”

You allowed the pleasure to crash over you - the pent up frustration from Katsuki being gone for so long, the undeniable desire for him to touch you, to fuck you, to love you like only he could. With a final cry of his name and the arch of your back, it all went white.

You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he rode you through it. You’re still gasping for breath, the fog he lost you in starting to clear, when you realize his teeth are against you neck, muffling the . You can feel him erupting inside of you, grunting as he fills you.

The two of you are panting, sweating messes; your office is in an even worse state. You’re a tangled mess of limbs, of gentle touches and dragging nails and...

“Fuck...” He breathes, letting out another breath. He doesn’t speak again until he’s lifted you up off the desk, weakly lowering the both of you down onto the floor. You kiss him once more before he slips out of you, which he happily reciprocates. He pulls back, looking down at you, his crimson eyes flashing.

“I fucking missed you.”

So...first smut....I hope you liked it - cause like...fuck bro...

I drank tea and burned through 3 different candles trying to write this and I’m still not like...super okay with it.

Send me more smut asks - I need to get used to writing it.

602 notes · View notes

theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

Text

Thick And Thin (one-shot)

Synopsis: He never thought his wife would ever even think about divorce. They had problems, which is why they were at marriage counselling. But he never knew her heart had broken a long time ago. And he’d been the one to break it before they even got together.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: aaaaaaannnnggggssssttt baby, just wanted to write something that’d rip your heart out :)

Warnings: swearing, pain, kinda depressive (??), can’t think of anything else really, but please let me know if there is, also not my best work lol :D

Word count: 7102 (let’s start off the New Year with loads of pain :) )

Italics are flashbacks

“I want a divorce.”

Never in Harry’s life did he think he’d have to hear those words. Not after everything they’d been through, not after all of the effort he’d been putting in to save their relationship.

Those words had not only stunned him but their marriage councillor, the woman’s mouth open mid-word, as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Harry was fairing even worse. It was like his brain was short-circuiting, synapses broken and no longer sending any signals.

“Mrs Styles, I know it’s difficult,” the therapist tried to diffuse the situation. “But the reason you’re here is to avoid this specifically.”

“I don’t remember how you smell anymore,” Y/N continued not listening to the woman, voice like a black void, but her Y/E/C eyes rimmed with tears. “Or taste. I don’t remember how it feels to have you pressed up against me or what it’s like to hear your voice. I… I don’t have anything to cling onto anymore.”

“It’s why we're here!” he cried through clenched teeth, slipping on his knees before her, hands grasping Y/N’s in a vice-like grip. “It’s why we’re trying.”

The laugh she let out was detached and without any love. “We tried it your way, Harry.” She’d never called him Harry before. It was always Lover. “And it’s not working for me. It hasn’t from the start. We’re… we’re so unhappy. And I don’t want that for you or for me. We deserve happiness. But I don’t think we can give that to one another anymore.” She took in a shaky breath, looking down at Harry’s hands in her lap. “When I thought of it, at first I felt horrible. I wanted to throw myself off somewhere, but the more I sat on that thought, the more relieved I felt.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, didn’t want to believe it. “Relieved?” The word felt like acid in his mouth.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Relieved. Because this choice won’t make us hurt one another anymore. This gives us a chance to have a fresh start.”

“I don’t want a fresh start! We said – we said through thick and thin.” He was grasping onto the last straw he could find. “This is the thin, but we’ll get through it.”

“Harry, I already broke through the thin. And now I’m drowning. And when the thick comes, I’ll either be frozen under it and watch you walk further, or I’ll surface somewhere, and I don’t know on which side of the shore I’m gonna be on and where you’ll be. And if you try to get me, you’ll start drowning too. I don’t want that.”

“But that’s what marriage is! Going through the tough shit together!”

“Harry… I already asked Lionel to draw up the papers. The first draft is done.”

His blood froze in his veins.

“When you said to sit down and write one thing that makes me happy about the relationship,” Y/N was looking at the therapist now, “about the person, I – I couldn’t. Because I kept thinking back to the start, to the beginning. That’s what made me happy. But now…” She glanced at Harry. “If there was one thing, I couldn’t do to you, not in a moment like this, is lie. I just… I don’t remember how to be happy with you.”

***

They’d started out as the cliché of best-friends-lose-contact-only-to-be-reunited-and-not-let-their-chance-pass-by-and-fall-in-love. She was ten when she’d moved in next door to him and he was twelve when he’d seen the three vans full up to the house, a little girl hopping out from one of them. Harry watched as she rushed up the doorstep and put in a key, unlocking it and a new chapter of her life with it. Little did he know she’d unlocked a new chapter of his life as well.

She was the new kid at school, and despite the fact that he was a year above, he sat down next to her at lunch.

“ ’M ‘arry,” he said through a mouthful of a sandwich. “Saw you move in yesterday.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

And that was the start of a blooming friendship.

On her eleventh birthday, he gave her a handmade bracelet. She gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, making Harry blush all shades of pink and red.

He was thirteen when he had his first real kiss on his birthday. Y/N had simply tried to peck him on the cheek, but he’d turned his head, and her mouth had ended up on his. She’d walked away with a shy smile and ears on fire.

She was thirteen when a boy first asked her out. Harry was the first person she told him about it. That was the first time his heart broke.

When he was fifteen, he got his first girlfriend. Y/N was fourteen when her heart broke for the first time.

And then he'd gone on X-factor and with that forgotten about her. She called him, texted him, messaged him on social media, but usually, she’d maybe get only one picture or a small ‘miss you too’ as a response. So, after a whole year apart, she gave up. What was the point of trying to save anything when he didn’t want to?

He moved on and became an international superstar. Y/N moved on and graduated top of her class, got into her first-choice university, and graduated with a first as well. He had some relationships here and there, while Y/N had had a steady relationship since the second year of uni, but when she decided to go to a different one for her masters they amicably broke up.

Eight years later she was sitting at a café in London, laughing with her ex-boyfriend and catching up, as he explained how what Criminal Minds showed wasn’t really what was taught in his criminology degree classes.

“I’m still saying I dated real-life Spencer Reid,” Y/N chuckled, sipping on her gingerbread latte. “Don’t give a shit, I need something to flex with.”

Harry had then walked inside the café, shaking off the snow from his boots when a familiar laugh he hadn’t heard in ages invaded his senses. It was almost like he’d stepped into a dream.

When his green eyes befell on the owner of the voice, he had to take a double-take. Somehow in his brain, he’d expected the fifteen-year-old teenager, a t-shirt of his face on her body, as she’d cheered him on when he’d gone onto his first concert as part of One Direction to be sitting in the chair, not the grown-up woman.

He’d still checked in with Y/N through what she posted on her social media, but as much as he’d promised not to have the celebrity life sweep him away, it had. Harry sometimes had two concerts a day, and he barely had a moment to take a bite of food. And he hated to admit it, but Y/N simply slipped from his life. And he didn’t bother to put in the effort to pull her back.

A huge wave of guilt and longing rushed through his body as he glanced at the woman, her face lit up by joy as she and the man before her continued on with their conversation.

Someone tapped on his shoulder, making him turn around and face another customer. “You gonna order anything?”

For a moment Harry stuttered. He could walk away without inserting himself back into Y/N’s life, but he didn’t want that. He’d missed her. Harry didn’t even realise how much he’d missed her.

“You go ahead.” He motioned with his hand. “I’m still thinking.”

Harry took in a deep breath and then walked towards where the pair was sitting.

The man’s eyes flitted up to see who was towering over Y/N, only for them to widen, and his mouth hang open.

A sense of pride filled Harry's chest at the reaction and maybe quenched a little bit of the jealousy invading his body. He used to be the one who made Y/N laugh until she had to tell him to stop or she’d pee herself. He was back to take up the role.

“You okay there, Dan?” she chuckled. “Don’t tell me there’s a ghost behind my back. I told him not to walk out of the flat wit –“ Y/N had turned around and almost choked on her drink. “Oh my god, Harry! Oh – hi!” She jumped up hugging him, feeling how his body shook with laughter at her reaction, strong arms weaving around her middle. “Holy shit, it’s really you!”

“Yeah, ‘s me. Who else?”

“I didn’t know you were back in the UK.”

A warmth spread through his chest, as he reluctantly pulled away from the hug. “Been checking in on me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sitting back down, but pulling up a third chair for Harry to sit upon. “Dan’s a huge fan.” She motioned with her head to the man. “When we first started dating, I thought he was only doing it because we used to be friends, and he hoped I’d set you up or something.”

Harry masked the choke of envy by clearing his throat and letting out an awkward chuckle. “Hope I’m not interrupting a date or something.”

“A catch-up date, but not a date date.” Dan lifted his brows at Y/N, who gave him a ‘don’t start this’ look to which he threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m just making conversation.”

“You’re being annoying, that’s what you are.” Y/N flicked a crumb from the table towards him.

It was in that moment that it truly hit how much he’d missed, and it hit him hard he no longer knew the person who once was his best friend.

“You’re different,” Harry said, looking over at her trying to keep the lump in his throat from making his voice break.

Y/N shrugged, eyes twinkling. “I mean it has been almost a decade. I do hope I don’t look the same as I did then. Otherwise, the pain of braces was of no use.”

“No,” he chuckled shaking his head. “’S not that… It’s like you’re a different person.”

“I grew up,” she said, sipping on the last bits of her drink. “ ’M not the same fifteen-year-old you saw last.”

He nodded and bit his lip. But the thing was, Harry wasn’t the stupid sixteen-year-old that left the fifteen-year-old her either. This time, he wouldn’t let the chance at happiness pass him by when he could’ve had it all along.

***

He sat across from Y/N at the large marble table and watched, heart bleeding out in his chest as she put her signature on the papers, her attorney fishing out something from his briefcase and handing it to her under the table. He saw her shoulders shudder before she placed a maroon rectangle with a golden inscription on it in her own purse. Harry wanted to vomit. It was her new passport, where her surname no longer matched his, where he no longer existed, inscribed into the document as her spouse.

“Mr Styles?” Y/N’s lawyer pushed the papers his way, the pen laying atop them. “’S your turn.”

‘Your turn’, as if it was a game of spin the bottle or UNO.

“Don’t make me,” he choked out, pleading with Y/N one last time. “Please don’t make me do this. Don’t make me give up on us.”

Her words were worse than a knife to his soul. “You can’t give up on something that’s no longer there.”

When they’d been at the stage of negotiation, he’d kept pushing for giving her at least half of his income, to give her one of the houses they owned together, but she’d turned everything down.

“I didn’t marry you for your money, Harry.” He’d expected her voice to be full of venom, but it wasn’t. It was sad, resigned. “I don’t want what you’ve earned.”

“Let me give you at least something.”

“I don’t want anything from you. If it makes you feel any better, you can donate whatever amount you wanted to give me. I don’t care. All I want from this is for you to sign the papers.”

“And if I can’t?”

Y/N sighed, looking down at the table. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

That’s when her attorney had cleared his throat. “Mrs Sty – Y/L/N. Legally, according to the prenup, you are entitled to half of Mr Styles estate as well as twenty percent of all his earnings.”

But Y/N just shook her head. “I only signed those documents because that’s what he and his agent wanted. I never asked for it or anything or the sort. Donate it, for all I care. Buy a new house, Harry I literally don’t want to know what you do with your money.” Y/N took in a sharp breath and calmed herself down. It’d been the first time Harry had heard any sort of emotion from her since she'd spoken those horrible words. “I just want this over with.”

And now, he was at the moment of the end. He just never thought their story would end with broken hearts and ripped up futures.

His handwriting was barely legible at best of times, but right now it seemed as if a toddler had tried to forge it with how much his hand shook. When the pen dropped, so did his shoulders, and he saw Y/N’s drop as well.

Harry’s with weight from the love lost, Y/N’s with relief, for now their broken hearts wouldn’t hurt one another no longer.

His lawyer handed him over a new passport as well, where Y/N was no longer written as his spouse. The urge to rip it to shreds was almost uncontainable. He hated it more than the divorce papers.

***

They’d been dating for a little over two years when he decided to propose, only every plan he had was miserably ruined by some outside force.

The first time he’d decided he’d do it at a romantic dinner. Harry had found out Y/N wasn’t a fan of huge romantic gestures, so he wouldn’t get on one knee and draw everyone’s attention. He’d simply take her hand in his, kiss her fingers and ask.

But as they’d sat at the table enjoying their meal and talking, he noticed Y/N become quieter and quieter. A frown morphed on his face.

“You alright, Lovie?”

“Umm,” Y/N’s brow creased even more, and she dropped her fork. “I umm I don’t know. ‘M feeling kind of funky?”

“What’dya mean?”

“I – “ Y/N opened her mouth but didn’t manage to get anything else out as she jumped up and rushed towards the ladies room.

Harry quickly dropped his own utensils and rushed after her, not bothering with the yells of the woman who was looking at herself in the mirror, while his girlfriend threw up her guts inside one of the toilets.

A member of the staff had run to see what all the commotion was about, but when he saw Y/N half inside a stall, half outside, Harry’s hands keeping her hair away from her face, he went back out and immediately grabbed the first aid kit they had in the kitchen, handing it to Harry along with a cold wet towel.

Y/N shuddered, leaning against the stall wall sweat glistening on her face, as he pressed the damp cloth against her skin. She gave him half a smile. “Told you not to get the shrimp.”

“I’ll get the cab, Lovie.” He smoothed away the once meticulously styled hair, which was now stuck to her damp skin.

But she shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m about to puke again.”

In the end, she threw up two more times, her stomach really not agreeing with the entrée. The waiters kept apologising the whole time, and the chef had stopped cooking, the restaurant immediately taking action and refunding everyone who’d ordered anything with shrimps in them.

When they’d gotten back home, Y/N was so tired and felt so sick, Harry could only help her get out of the dress, clean her up with a warm towel and wrap her up in her favourite pyjamas before curling up together on his bed and falling asleep, making sure if there was a moment, she felt nauseous again, he was by her side. She needed his help more than he needed to propose.

***

He threw himself into his work like a madman. Day and night, he was either at a studio, on a filming lot, in between meetings or interviews. The media buzzed about how his marriage had fallen apart, even though Y/N hadn’t made a statement or spoken a word to anyone, and neither had Harry. But he guessed the emptiness of his ring finger gave everything away.

He refused, however, to speak on it. As painful as it was, he was still in love with Y/N. She hadn’t chosen to be in the spotlight, it was Harry’s world, not hers, so he respected her decision to be quiet and remained so himself, save for one single post his management had asked for him to put up. It'd also been the last time he'd spoken to her.

All he received was a simple text message 'do what you have to do'.

A couple of months down the line though, something came up, and Harry couldn’t keep his tongue behind his teeth.

It was an article in The Sun, a photograph of Y/N plastered all over the front page with the words ‘Gold-digger Y/L/N finally seen out after divorce with Harry Styles.�� He’d snatched the paper right off the stand and flipped it open, frantic green eyes scanning the words.

‘Despite it only being two months since the two childhood ex-best friends broke up, Y/N Y/L/N was already seen in the company of a man, sharing a drink, and giving one another flirtatious smiles. An inside source tells us, how she hadn’t even been that upset about the divorce and has been going out and having fun with many male companions, one of them being her ex-boyfriend from university times.’

‘Harry Styles, known for his time in the pop boyband One Direction and for his solo endeavours in music as well as dabbling in acting, broke everyone’s belief in true love after being seen in public without a ring. This prompted an announcement that the four-year relationship and two-year marriage to who was once his best friend had ended and the two had decided to get a divorce. Although the post showed a picture of their silhouettes holding one another with their foreheads together, and his statement showed nothing but love and respect for his then-wife, sources say Y/N had been controlling and obsessive over her then-husband and hadn’t wanted him to leave to pursue his career, stifling his growth.’

He didn’t bother to read any further, as he pulled out his phone, calling Jeff immediately to figure out how to make all of it go away, how to do at least one thing right.

“They’re dragging her name through the mud!” he sneered, not even caring he was bumping shoulders with people, and if the paparazzi would dare spin a story of the state he was in at that moment, he’d sue each and every one of them personally. “I have to do something. Fuck, Jeff, I love her! I can’t let them paint her like this. Y/N – “ he choked back a lump. “She never asked for this. Didn’t ask for anything. And that man – that was Dan, okay. I know him. Yes, he’s her ex, but they don’t know anything!”

“Harry I’ve sent them cease-and-desist letters already.” Jeff tried to ease him. “But… she’s no longer your concern Har.”

The words hit him like a bullet and ripped a hole in his chest just like one of them would. “You might still love her,” Jeff’s voice was solemn. “But Y/N is no longer yours to protect.”

“I can’t just let them talk shit about her,” Harry whispered back.

His friend sighed on the other side of the line. “I know. Which is why we’ll deal with it. But you have to start letting her go.”

***

The second time Harry wanted to propose was about a month later, and Christmas was right around the corner. They’d decided that Christmas Eve would be spent with his sister, her boyfriend and Anne, while Christmas Day they’d go to Y/N’s side of the family.

Although they’d settled on one gift each, Harry had been carrying around that small box for what felt like an eternity. And it wouldn’t really be a gift, given how he’d wrap it and hang it in the tree.

“It’s an ornament,” he’d say to her, a smug smile on his lips, as Y/N would roll her eyes at him. “Just because it has your name on it, doesn’t mean it’s immediately a present.”

And then she’d open it, and would gasp, and Harry would slide down on his knee, press a kiss to her ring-free finger before asking that fateful question.

But just like before, his plan didn’t come to fruition.

He’d asked his mother to hang up the little box, so there was no chance of Y/N seeing it in his hands, but what he hadn’t thought of was Gemma’s boyfriend had decided on the exact same plan of action.

When Michal had dropped down on his knee, Harry’s sister’s trembling hand in his, he couldn’t do that to them. As much as he wanted to marry Y/N, he couldn’t take away Gemma’s moment. So while Y/N was preoccupied with looking at the gleaming diamond on Gemma’s finger, Harry plucked down the box from where it’d hung and placed it on the side no one could see, before he could put it in his bag.

“ ’M sorry, honey,” Anne had said to him over coffee the next morning. “I didn’t know Michal would do that.”

He’d just shaken his head, no hurt in his heart. “Great minds think alike. Our moment will come. ‘M happy for Gem. Besides, if he hadn’t done that anytime soon, I would’ve needed to have a stern talking.”

***

What his sister said to him made him think he had to be living in a simulation, because it couldn’t be true. Y/N couldn’t be getting married. Not this soon. Not ever. Not to someone who wasn’t him. It had been barely a year since he’d signed the death sentence to his own happiness.

Harry shook his head. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying, Gem.”

“I’m not.” Her voice broke as she said it. “I saw her at a café. Saw the ring… the man who gave it to her. Harry, I’m so sorry.”

His mind reeled with questions he wasn’t sure he wanted answers to. Was that why she’d really divorced him? Had she been cheating on him and just needed an excuse out of their relationship to jump into the new one? He was away so much on their relationship, he wouldn’t have been surprised if someone else had swooped in and tried to win her heart.

Harry’s mind was one of the greatest things he’d been blessed him, but also one of the worst curses bestowed upon him, as it weaved a story of Y/N and the man who’d now put a gleaming ring on her finger.

He was away, like always, doing something he could do another time. She was on her own, keeping their bed warm with just her body, fighting for their relationship on her own, while he made plans once more to go to a different part of the world and leave her behind again.

Y/N pulled herself out of the bed, sighing and rubbing her face. She opened their closet only to be greeted with Harry’s half empty. Maybe that was the moment she decided to find someone who’d fill it and wouldn’t leave it permanently empty, Harry conjured up.

She’d dress in a soft jumper and some jeans, a large cardigan hanging over her body and would go to a café for her morning drink. And that’s where she’d meet him. The stranger that would take her out of the lonely life she’d been living. The stranger that would make a smile bloom on her face and her heart stutter once more. The stranger who would show her the love Y/N deserved to have.

Harry had to shake his head to get rid of the thoughts before they ventured into a worse territory.

No. Y/N wasn’t like that. No matter what, she would never cheat on him. She had enough dignity for herself and respect for him, even though in his own mind, Harry didn’t think he deserved it.

Although he didn’t have a right to, nor was it the sanest move (and if someone saw him doing it, there would probably be a slew of articles), Harry got into his car and drove to where Y/N’s apartment was, and when she opened the door after hearing seven loud knocks, he stepped inside without even waiting for her to invite him.

“You’re getting married?”

She crossed her arms. “It’s none of your concern.”

“It’s been barely a year! I refuse to believe you’ve moved on so fast.”

Maybe he was kidding himself, and Y/N truly had, but as much as their marriage had fallen apart, he did have the honour of having known her and having figured some things out deeper than others would.

Y//N scoffed. “I was proposed to. And I said yes.” The words were like venom entering his veins. “If I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t have agreed to it. And as I already said – it is none of your concern.”

Harry stood there, watching as she dragged a hand down her face, eyes flitting everywhere he wasn’t. It told him everything he needed to know.

“You’re not happy,” he whispered stepping forward and reaching for her hand. “I know how you shine when you’re truly happy. This isn’t it. Why are you doing this?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Harry was so confused, at a complete loss at what Y/N was saying. “So, you’ll what? Get married to him and be miserable? Why the hell did you divorce me then?”

Y/N sighed. “Being unhappy with him isn’t as unbearable as being unhappy with you. Because with you, I know what it feels like to truly fully loved. Which is why it broke me when you stopped.”

“I never stopped!” Harry whisper yelled, anger coursing through his veins at her words, because they were lies. “Why do you think I dragged us to marriage counselling? Why do you think I kept fighting for us? For you?! You were the one that gave up!”

“You weren’t there when I needed you.”

Harry blinked rapidly, not understanding what she meant.

“You left me for ten years. You forgot all about me until that day at the café. Not once did you message me or call me or even send fucking snail mail. I was the one putting in all the effort, I was the one who was trying to keep you in my life, but you didn’t want it. Just like it was when we were married.”

Rage bubbled under the surface, but he kept it at bay. That was not how he’d get Y/N back. “How?” he asked calmly. “How did I not want it?”

She scoffed shaking her head. “It was the same as it was ten years ago. With the movie, the new album... You were always at the studio or hanging out with your castmates. When I asked for you to free up one night, one single night, you didn’t come back until three AM, drunk off your ass, and I had to take care of you. I asked for one night. And you didn’t even give me that. So forgive me for not feeling like you still loved me.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me then?!”

“I did!” This was the first time he’d ever heard Y/N yell, before kneading her lips tightly together and then continuing more quietly. “But you never heard me. Not really. You heard what I asked, and promised to be there, but when the time came… something more important always came up. Something that always deserved to have the promise you gave me to be broken.” Y/N gave him a sad smile. “Do you remember when you first asked me out? And I said no?”

Harry nodded. “You said that we just got one another back and didn’t want to have anything rip us apart again. Didn’t even want to chance it.”

“And you said it was exactly why I should give us a chance. That we’d finally found one another again and shouldn’t let the opportunity go…” She tilted her head. “Guess we should’ve listened to me. I included.”

He couldn’t believe her. “Is that really your takeaway here? You were right?”

“But I was.” Y/N shrugged. “Look at where we are now. You forgot me for basically ten years.” She shrugged, stepping away. “Give it some time, and you’ll forget me for the rest of your life. Besides, we’ve not known one another longer than we have. So, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Why did you then? Go out with me?” Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. “Get married to me?”

For a moment Y/N just looked at him, Y/E/C eyes boring into his green ones. “Because I’d once again convinced myself I was important to you, just like I did when we were teens. And in my head, I had dreamt up that maybe I’d be important enough for you not to forget me.”

***

The third time did the charm though.

They were both sleepy, under the covers of Harry’s bed, eyes barely keeping open as they were determined to finish Elf.

Y/N had her cheek pressed against his chest, bare body next to his naked one. She hated sleeping in pyjamas (unless they were staying over at one of their parent’s places,) because she said it made her feel like the clothes were suffocating her. Harry didn’t like sleeping with pyjamas because all he wanted was to fully feel the skin of his lover next to his.

Snow fell behind the large windows of his London penthouse apartment, covering the city in a white blanket. It rarely snowed there, so he watched with warmth in his heart as the flakes fluttered to the ground.

It was all so calm, so serene, that Harry realised that’d been the moment he’d been waiting for. No need for fancy dinners or present it as a loud gift. Being together was a gift enough.

“Lovie?” he asked, nose hidden in her hair. “You awake?”

All he received in answer was a small hum. She was on the verge of passing out, but this was the moment, so, he whispered the question, voice so low as if he was asking the dark to marry him not Y/N.

He couldn’t look at her, afraid of what she might say, afraid she might say no, think back to the times he wasn’t there for her, think of all the reasons why he wasn’t good enough for her, and would only bring her sorrow.

“Lover.” Her voice was as soft as a summer’s morning. “Look at me. Please.”

It was one of the most frightening things in his life, as he did so.

Y/E/C eyes met green. What he saw on her face allowed his heart to calm down a little.

“Is the Sun the closest star to us?”

That he hadn’t expected. “What?”

“Does it rise in the East and set in the West?”

“Y-yes?”

Her hand cupped his cheek, and he melted against her. “Then why are you asking me a question you know the answer will be the same as to those?”

“Can I put the ring on your finger then?” He was more excited than about anything in his life.

Y/N shook her head, bringing his lips to brush against hers. “Don’t need a ring. Just need you to kiss me.”

***

The wedding was far away from the city so that no one from the press could even think about following her or her entourage. The guest list was small, compared to the three hundred people Harry’s and her wedding had had.

Anne had told him not to go. He wasn’t invited, and neither was she or Gemma, for obvious reasons. As much as Y/N loved them, she knew it’d hurt the two women, but it would hurt Harry more. So seeing her stepping out of the car, dressed in a cream wedding gown, a veil covering her face, made flashbacks appear behind Harry’s eyelids.

She’d worn an off-white gown before as well, dusty rose to be exact. And Harry’s bow tie had matched it. Y/N had never liked the thought of wearing white at her wedding.

“Listen, if it’s white, I’ll most definitely spill something on it,” she’d told him as both of them had been flipping through some wedding magazines. “You know me. But if it’s some other colour, there’s a bigger chance no one will notice when that happens.”

It didn’t seem right to him. It was like a bad fever-dream like he’d had that one time, and Y/N had had to listen to him babble about the hallucinations dancing in front of him because of the high temperature.

Her gaze remained on the ground, or maybe on the bucket of white roses in her hands. She hated white roses.

A woman in a pale blue dress straightened out the back of Y/N’s dress and the train of it, and he watched as her mother came to stand beside her daughter, giving her an elbow to grasp onto.

All he wanted was for Y/N to be happy, and it hurt to think it wasn’t with him because Harry believed it was supposed to be him.

He took in a shaky breath and got out of the car just as Y/N had walked up the steps and disappeared behind the double doors.

It was going to be him.

***

Harry knew he wasn’t the best husband in the world. He was away for a lot of time, and as conceited of an excuse it was, his job did entail going out to parties, mingling with other people living the high life, and being seen with certain celebs.

Y/N was never one for it. She always supported Harry, but she didn’t like going out and spending time with people who didn’t care for her existence. Well, maybe they did, but only in a sense that she’d been the lucky bitch who’d snagged up the Harry Styles.

But if there was something Harry did was love, and he loved wholeheartedly, which is why it absolutely destroyed him when he’d gotten back home one evening and heard Y/N crying in their bathroom.

She’d never tell him, but it was because no longer did his pillow smell like him. Harry had been away for so long, that the essence of him that’d soaked into their sheets was no longer there. And it broke her to pieces.

When he’d get home, he’d be so tired, he’d crash on the couch, only tiptoeing his way into their shared room to go to his closet and get some clean clothes in the morning. He’d look over at his sleeping wife and allow a blissful smile to bloom on his face at the sight.

He was so lucky to have Y/N back in his life. He was so lucky she’d accepted him and fallen for him as he’d fallen for her. He’d silently move over and press a kiss to her temple, before going back down and off to work once more. Only he wouldn’t see the dried tears on her cheeks.

So, when he’d found her curled up in the tub, hands in her hair, face hidden by her knees, frame trembling like leaves in a storm, he instantly dropped to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through his bones, as he pulled Y/N into him.

“I can’t, Harry,” she choked out, shaking her head. He knew it was bad. She never called him by his name. “I can’t do this. I’m so alone. Even when you’re here, I’m alone.”

Harry had had his heart broken before, and always he wondered afterwards if someone took it out of his chest at that moment, what kind of a sound would it make. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it’d be as silent as the tears running down his face at Y/N’s confession.

“Maybe,” he swallowed harshly trying to keep his whole body from shaking, from showing the fear her statement instilled in him. “Maybe we need couple’s therapy.”

“What?” her eyebrows had shot up to the middle of the forehead.

“Y/N, we’re clearly having problems. I – I know I need to work on things, but you’re also not telling me how you’re feeling. Maybe we just need some help.”

She didn’t really know what to respond. In her mind, Y/N had somehow conjured up an image that if she ever got married, they’d be happy. Sure, they’d fight and have rows, but they’d always be able to work things out on their own. Not once in her life, did she ever think she’d need to go and see a marriage counsellor to help her save her marriage.

Her own parents much like Harry’s had gotten divorced. Hers had tried therapy. It’d been their last resort. It didn't work. So, when he’d mentioned it to her, that’s what made her decide it was truly over.

Y/N nodded, bringing him in for a hug, and felt his body melt into hers with relief.

She’d try, for Harry, but her mind was already made up.

***

So he stood outside the doors, listening for the line of ‘if there is anyone who opposes this union speak up now, or forever hold your peace’. His hand grasped the handle, ready to push, but… he couldn’t. He’d ruined her happy ever after once before. He couldn’t do that again to her.

Tears streamed down his face as he pocketed his hands and ventured away from the ceremony. The ceremony where the love of his life was promising to cherish someone else, to fight through thick and thin with someone else, to make someone else happy, while her own happiness suffered.

Harry sat in his car, waiting for her to exit, a smile on her face as she’d hold the hand of who now was her husband. That'd be the moment he'd let go of her. But when the doors sprung open, she was alone, hands clutching onto the front of her dress, as she rushed down the steps and back inside the car she’d arrived in.

For a second he sat in his vehicle, stunned beyond belief at what had happened, at what, as horrible as it sounded, he hoped had happened. When a man, hand in his hair ran outside as well, the same woman in the pale blue dress rushing out with him, Harry knew.

He was basically a madman on the road, breaking almost every possible law as he tried to catch up to the car Y/N had jumped in.

His mind raced with the possibilities of where she could’ve gone. The airport, her family’s summer house in Winchester, honestly anywhere in the world, but Harry shut up his mind, and allowed his heart to make the decision.

It didn’t seem like Y/N had premeditated fleeing from her wedding, which meant she’d need her stuff. And that meant going to her apartment as quickly as possible before someone came to look for her.

The way he parked was probably illegal leaving the car basically in the middle of the road, but Harry didn’t care much as he frantically rushed up the steps of her apartment complex. He was scared that if he knocked, she wouldn’t open, thinking it might be someone from the wedding, but he didn’t need to be afraid of it, as he saw Y/N, her hair still styled as it had been for the ceremony, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a suitcase in hand exiting from the flat.

“Why didn’t you do it?” he breathlessly asked, startling her and making her drop the keys.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? What are you doing here?”

Harry stepped closer, hand cupping her cheek, insides trembling from all of the emotions coursing through his body. “Why didn’t you do it? Marry him? Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I – “ Y/N choked on her words. “I couldn’t say yes. It didn’t feel right.”

“Why?”

“Because it wasn’t you, I was saying yes to.”

That was all Harry needed to kiss her like he'd done once before. And this time, he wasn’t going to let her go. He’d made that mistake twice. He would never repeat it again.

“I love you,” he cried through a laugh. “I love you. I love you. I love you. And I’m never letting you slip through my fingers ever again.”

“How can you even think about loving me again after what I did to us?” she asked, pulling away from his lips.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re talking like I ever stopped. Through thick and thin. It’s what we promised. Think and thin, my Lovie."

***

A sixteen-year-old Harry and a fifteen-year-old Y/N laid outside in the grass of Harry’s garden; eyes trained onto the dark night starlit sky above. It was the day before his life changed forever as did hers.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Harry asked, trying to catch a glimpse of a shooting star.

Y/N scrunched up her nose. “No. I don’t think I do. And I don’t think I want one.”

“Why not?”

“What if they’re old and in their thirties? Or dead?”

Harry snorted at her response.

“And you?” Y/N turned her head to look at him. “Do you believe in soulmates?

He bit his lip and nodded. “I think I do. I think it’s two people who’ve been brought together, and no matter what happens will find their way to one another. Through thick and thin.”

"And what if one of them breaks the other's heart?"

"That's the thin." He looked at her. "And you don't give up then. It's when you need to love them even more."

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: Happy 2021 everyone! Hopefully things are better this year, and everyone stays safe and sound.

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my fics on other platforms without specific written permission. Reblogs are a okay :)

918 notes · View notes

reg-arcturus-black · 3 years

Note

hiiiii! i hope you’re having a wonderful day, filled with sunshine & rainbows !! 💫✨ may i please request sirius x daughter! reader imagine where the reader is staying with sirius for the first time since he went to azkaban and when she goes to bed he tries to tuck her in but struggles because the last time he’d have done it, he probably would’ve read her a story but she’s presumably grown out of that by now and so he’s not really sure what to do ? 🥺🍄 oml and her room probably hasn’t been touched in like 12 years- the memories, the guilt he must feel- i’m gonna criiiii

Hi!!! That is so kind of you 💕 I hope you're doing okay in these terrible, terrible times 🌸❤

This was honestly such a beautiful plot! Thank you. And I did cry while writing it... Hope you like it, too 🤗

The Reunion (Sirius Black x Daughter Reader)

1.4k words

Fluff

Requests now open.

Masterlist

You paced nervously in the hallway, waiting for that knock on the door. Ever since you were 2, you had been living with your grandparents. Your mother was a muggleborn and was found by the vengeful deatheaters a few months after Sirius was imprisoned. Your grandparents didn’t understand a lot about the wizarding world, but they understood you. They were your best friends.

When you would ask about your mother and the bad people who took her away, they would gently sit you down and tell you all about her. They would tell you how much she loved you, the way she had cried when you were first born, how similar she was to you, how she had spent every minute fighting for your father’s innocence.

They would then tell you about your father. How much he loved your mother and you, how you had his grey eyes and the beautiful hair and his affinity for mischief. They even told you about his friends and the pranks they did in school.

Your mother had so many pictures from her school days. Pictures with your father, with her friends, with his friends. You could spend the entire day looking at them. But you could never bring yourself to. It was too difficult. Too difficult to look at the pictures of the two most important people you barely remembered.

Harry was younger than you. Once you had received the news that your father had broken out, you both had talked a lot about him. You told him Sirius was innocent but you had no proof, neither did he have any reason to believe you.

Once his fourth year and your sixth year was over, you had gotten a letter from your father. He was finally healthy enough to travel and wanted to meet you at the apartment he and your mother had shared. You had spent 2 years there as an infant before Sirius had been wrongly accused and your mother moved back in with her parents.

Your grandpa and grandma were ecstatic when they had heard the news and had instantly allowed you to spend the weekend with him. You didn’t know if you were nervous or excited. Probably both.

Your heart beat sped up when you heard a knock and ran to open the door. You were greeted by a man looking in his 30s who looked so much like you. “Dad...” you said, not being able to believe that he was finally here.

He smiled and pulled you into an awkward hug. “It is so good to see you, sweetheart.”

You grinned and let him in, closing the door behind him.

He looked around the house he had shared with your mother, all the memories rushing back. When they had first bought it, decorated it and his favourite one, when they had brought you home from the hospital.

“I - you can have a look around if you want,” you offered, not knowing what else to say. “It must have been a long time since you were last here.”

He nodded, “It is, but I am starving. You want to have dinner first?”

You gave him a small smile and went towards the dining room. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got pizza.” You said nervously. “We can get something else. I am sorry I wasn’t - ”

“Pizza is just fine,” he grinned.

The silence during dinner was very awkward. Neither of you knew what to say. Sirius’ heart was heavy with sadness and guilt. How he had missed out on all those years. Missed out on your firsts. The first time you left for Hogwarts, the first time you had cried over someone, your first detention. And guilt because it was his fault. If he wouldn’t have gone after Peter, he would be there to watch you grow up.

“Uh, how is school?” he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Nice, I like it there,”

He nodded. “I did, too. My family was the worst so Hogwarts was my home. Especially after I met your mother.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Your heart clenched at her mention and didn’t say anything else during the rest of the dinner.

“Do you wanna see the rest of the house before you sleep? I don’t think you have before.” He asked.

You shook your head and followed him upstairs. The first door he opened was the master bedroom’s, a picture of your mother and father lying on the nightstand, covered in dust. Every inch of the room and the bathroom was covered in dust.It had been so long it was a miracle the light switches worked. With a flick of his wand, he cleaned it all up and made it look as good as new.

“She was beautiful,” he sighed, looking at the photo.

You nodded and left the room quickly, going to your nursery. There was a crib on one side and a bed on the other. The wall had a shelf full of books, both muggle and magical alike. A broom hung over your crib, zooming around in circles. This room, too, was covered in dust.

You were reading the titles of the book when you heard him chuckle behind you.You turned around and saw him remove all the dust. You gasped when you saw the room properly. There were hand-painted drawings on the wall and stars on the ceiling.

“She painted the walls.” he told you. “And the stars were my idea. There were nights when she missed you a lot and would come in here and sleep in this room. After a point, we all slept in the nursery, hence the bed.” He laughed fondly.

You didn’t like it. It was too painful to know that you had all these wonderful moments but you hardly remembered them. Too painful to know that you never got the chance to make more of such moments. You sighed and sat down on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sitting down beside you.

You looked at him, eyes full of unshed tears. You never realized how much you had needed him until he was right in front of you. “I - I barely remember you. Or mom. I see flashes of you and her, but that’s it.” He placed an arm around your shoulder and your voice broke. “I missed you, but it was so difficult missing you when I didn’t even remember you...” You then broke down into sobs as he pulled you into him. “I missed you so much, dad.” You cried.

Holding you in his arms as you cried only drowned him deeper in guilt. “I am so sorry, baby...” he said softly. “I never should have left that night. Please forgive me.”

You sniffed and looked up at him, tears still rolling down. “When grandma told me what you had done, I was so angry at you for leaving. But then I realized I wanted to be like you. Brave and loyal to a fault. McGonagall says I resemble you two so much that it is actually scary.” You laughed softly.

He smiled and wiped away your tears.

“I will be right back,” you said and left the room to change after sitting in silence for a few minutes.

He smiled softly to himself, knowing that his daughter had missed him just as much as he had. It gave him peace knowing that you had forgiven him. He was going through the story books when he realized that you were not 2 years old anymore. He couldn’t read you bedtime stories anymore.

“There are a few photos I need to know more about,” you said from behind him, as if reading his mind. “You can tell me about them.”

He nodded and ran off to get the photographs from downstairs. You placed the box in front of him and settled into bed, waiting for him to begin.

He chuckled at the collection of pictures your mother had. “These were my friends,” he said, handing you a photo of 4 boys with arms around each other, laughing to the camera. “Peter was a friend, too,” he said sadly.

“Tell me more,” you asked, your eyes full of excitement.

He laughed and began an elaborate tale of the Marauders in Hogwarts, reminiscing all their pranks and memories. Somehow, talking about them with you was not as painful as it was with others or when he was by himself and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

By the time he was done, you were already asleep. You had not completed the story behind even one photograph. He chuckled softly and tucked you in, kissing your forehead.

Now that he was finally home with his daughter, he was not going anywhere ever again.

#harry potter #marauders fanfiction #marauders #marauders era fic #oneshot #sirius black x reader oneshot #Sirius Black daughter #fluff #sirius black post azkaban #daughter reader #reader insert #sirius black fluff #sirius black

321 notes · View notes

spunkpunx · 3 years

Text

Say You Love Me - Jimmy Darling

Plot: Reader is heartbroken when she hears Jimmy has lost his hands, but when they're replaced he decides to make up for lost time

Word count: 3105

Warnings: Smut, Smoking, Mild violence

The words hit me like a ton of bricks when Dell brought the news. Jimmy's hands were gone. My Jimmy's hands were gone. Taken. That no good piece of shit Richard Spencer and his lies. I couldn't believe Elsa had fallen for his bollocks, but I supposed that was his game. The rest of the freaks stood in shock.

"Oh no, not Jimmy!" Ima cried over dramatically. I felt my blood boil. My skin crawled as she wailed. I felt my ears burn up with my rage. She'd been here not five minutes and here she was, caterwauling over what they had done to him. I couldn't out loud admit what I felt about Jimmy, but I sure as hell could let it be known how I felt about her. I ran at her and swung one hard punch to the side of her head. The force did not knock her over, but the shock certainly did.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" I spat out the words repeatedly as I continued to hit her face and chest once she had fallen. I felt my eyes prick as I screamed at her, before Paul and Eve pulled me away. The second the anger cleared I collapsed in tears. Penny came over to me as Eve followed Dell out the tent. She held me tight as I sobbed into her chest. Ima was taken out the tent, bloodied and bruised and sniveling. I lifted my head only to spit in her direction.

"Shh, shh," Penny cooed, stroking my hair.

"What have they done to him?" I whimpered, my voice coming out far more feeble and cracked then I had ever heard it. "How's he going to survive in there without his hands?"

"I don't know," Penny told me, honestly. "I'm sure he'll find a way."

She took me back to my caravan and I poured myself a drink. I pulled an ashtray out the cupboard and lit a cigarette.

"You don't have to watch over me Penny. I'm sure you probably best go check on your man."

"I don't want to leave you like this," she admitted, sat delicately on the edge of my bed. She was still so beautiful, despite the lizard tattoo, and so kind as well. I couldn't bear to be around anyone at the minute though.

"I'll be fine," I told her softly, but when she didn't move I snapped at her. "Piss off! I don't want you here!" I hadn't meant to be so harsh, but she gathered herself up and left. I knocked back my drink in one. It burned my eyes and stung my throat but I hoped for my own sake it would help me sleep.

I went through more alcohol and more cigarettes. My ashtray overflowed. My head was spinning as I reached toward the bottom of the bottle. With my head heavy I fell over into my bed and pulled the covers round myself, only bothering to clumsily remove my shoes before shutting my eyes tight and trying to forget my thoughts. I lay there, my mind playing a reel of horrors of what could have happened to Jimmy. I pictured him beaten in a jail cell, battered to death like Meep was, or sat in despair at his own situation. I knew he couldn't have killed those women, even if he didn't, because he was here in this caravan when it happened. I knotted my fingers into my hair, reeling drunk. I was just as bad as he had been.

I eventually passed out, but kept waking, sweaty and restless after nightmares. At one point my stomach turned and I chugged up my guts off the side of my bed. I rolled back over after that and caught half an hours rest before I woke again. The night went on like that until the sun rose and Eve came in to get me up.

"Oh sweetheart," she muttered upon seeing my sorry state. She delicately picked her way to the bed past the vomit and brought me out of bed to go sit on the seat I had. I blubbered pathetically while she tossed a towel over my mess and brought me a glass of water. I was still slightly drunk, but tried to be as co-operative as possible. Eve sat next to me, pulling me in for a hug while I continued to feel like a maudlin burden on her. She took me over to have breakfast with the others, and I hiccuped my way through some bread and butter, as everyone threw pitiful stares my way. I began to sober up.

"I'm sorry, Eve. I'm sorry I'm so useless."

"Don't be silly, come with me," she directed, taking my hand and leading me away from the show ground. As we walked further away I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.

"It's awful nice of you to try cheer me up but I'd rather not go anywhere," I told Eve, following her through the undergrowth. We passed the spot where Ethel had ended her life, which brought back more memories of how Jimmy had been after she passed. My eyes welled, but I tried hard to keep it suppressed. I didn't want anyone to think I was being such a pathetic mess over Jimmy Darling. I didn't want to be another of the freaks that he's fucked and now loves him.

"It's Elsa who said you ought to come here," Eve explained. It was probably her plan to distract me from my wallowing, or punish me for what I did to Ima. I expected hard labour ahead of me. We reached a small barn with the doors locked. Eve produced a key, unlocking the chains. "Now listen. Elsa says its your job to look after him," she instructed pulling the door open to let me see inside. It took me a minute to realise there was a bed, a bed and a familiar face.

"Jimmy!" I gasped, rushing to his side. I burst into tears again, this time from pure relief. "Oh baby your hands!"

By his side lay two bloodied stumps wrapped in bandage. His eyes filled with tears when he looked at me.

"Princess I haven't ever seen you cry before," he told me lightheartedly, but his voice cracked and he wept. I placed my hand on his face and he leaned into my touch as I wiped his tear with my thumb. I turned back to give Eve a thank you but she had left. I turned to Jimmy.

"I thought you were gonna be gone forever," I told him, sniffling.

"Me too baby." I bent down and pressed my lips down against his. We shared a salty kiss. I felt him flinch hard and cut off the kiss when he lifted his arm hold me. He immediately broke down in tears again. "I'm never going to be able to hold you again," he whimpered, and I sensed that there was certainly more to it than that. It stung to see him in such a sorry state.

"Oh Jimmy don't upset yourself," I tried to comfort him. "I have to change your bandages. Okay?" He shook his head. "I let you do it for me," I reminded him.

"Well you have no fucking idea how much it hurts," he snapped. I understood his frustration, but I couldn't help but pull away, hurt. His eyes softened. "I'm sorry (y/n), I just... I just don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Hold, still." I ran my hand down his arm slowly until I reached the bandage trying to cause minimum pain. I unwrapped it slowly, Jimmy putting on a brave face. As I pulled the bloodied part away from his wound he flinched and gritted his teeth. "This is really gonna sting," I warned as I poured alcohol onto cotton to clean his injury. He bit down on his pillow and nodded for me to go ahead. I wiped it as gently as I could and tried to ignore his muffled howl. "I'm sorry." He let the pillow from his teeth.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, doll," he assured, breathless from pain. I took his stump in my hands, wrapping it in bandage.

"I tried to tell the police it wasn't you, but they wouldn't listen."

"It might have been me, I was there, I was blind drunk."

"It wasn't, Jimmy. You were in my caravan. You said you loved me."

"I do." He looked at me sincerely. I avoided his eye, focusing my attention back to binding up his arm.

"You don't Jimmy, you love Maggie, you only wanted me because you were scared she might leave you and you thought I wouldn't." I sighed.

"That's not true, I kept coming back because I love you." Tears pricked my eyes again. He probably thought Maggie had left and was settling for me. I tied off the bandage and he raised his arm up to my face, sucking in his breath sharply as his stump brushed my cheek. "And you love me too."

"No, I don't," I lied. He watched me, his stare breaking me apart like it always had.

"Paul came by before you. I haven't seen you cry once before, (y/n), but he said you have been tearful all morning. He also told me about Ima," he teased, smugly. I didn't know it was possible to sound both so weak and so smug at the same time.

"I was worried, it doesn't mean-"

"Please just tell me it does. Just tell me you love me, it's all I ever wanted to hear." I let out a breath I never realised I was holding.

"I love you, Jimmy Darling." He smiled at me. I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it before taking a few draws. I put it between his lips for him so he could take a puff.

"Look at me," he complained. "Can't even hold my own cigarette."

"Hush now Jimmy. Things will take time," I reassured him, to little effect. We shared the rest of the cigarette and I moved round to change the bandage on the other side. Jimmy didn't speak until I'd finished and stood up to leave.

"Thank you, (y/n)," he said sincerely. I went back to his bedside, leaned down a pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I'll be here to change your bandages again tomorrow," I told him softly.

Although Elsa had not left, she had still sold the show to Chester, who although had a definite screw loose, seemed harmless enough. He was bright, chirpy and certainly not bossy. His odd qualities only came from the wooden ventriloquist doll he was so attached to. The twins seemed quite smitten with him, and, if I didn't know any better, I'd say they were screwing him.

I was civil with Maggie after her trickery, especially knowing how difficult the world could be, but Jimmy had far from forgiven her. This was a hard situation to negotiate. She had asked about him, and I knew she cared, but Jimmy was set in his hatred of her. It was hard to sympathise with a woman who had been part in a scheme resulting in the death of Ma Petite and the loss of Jimmy's hands. For the most part I told the truth. Jimmy was not going to soften any time soon.

I apologised to Ima too, hard as it was. She didn't really take my apology, but it hardly bothered me. It was mainly for the sake of the others, and to keep the peace.

That night, Dell was shot. He, it turned out, had been the one to kill Ma Petite. I felt bad for his death. As shitty as his actions were, I always felt he was trying his hardest for a better life. Still, killing another freak was unforgivable, and Ma Petite was innocence itself. It was my job to deliver the news to Jimmy, which was horrible.

"He was my father!"

"I know Jimmy! I'm sorry!"

"Don't you dare start apologising for those murderers, (y/n)!"

"Jimmy he killed Ma Petite!" I ended up snapping. "He killed an innocent and he paid the price." Jimmy broke down into tears again, and I ended up wrapping my arms around him.

"I'm losing everything."

"Come on, baby. It hurts to see you cry so much," I mumbled into his neck. He sobbed into my shoulder.

"Don't ever leave me (y/n). Don't ever break my heart.”

The day Jimmy's hands were ready was the happiest I had seen him in months. I came into the barn again to see him, when I spotted him sat on the bed. The moment he saw me he stood up and rushed toward me. I opened my arms to him and he caught me in his grasp, lifting me off my toes. He kissed me, properly. His dark eyes seemed full of hope. I took his arms from around me and held one of his new hands in mine. Mr. Dolcefino had created perfect wooden hands, still with Jimmy's finger shapes. They were works of art.

"They're beautiful, baby," I told him, smiling.

"They ain't half as functional as they were, but my hands have never looked so good."

"Your hands always looked good." I kissed him again, harder this time. He pulled me flush against him.

"It kills me I can't touch you the same baby," he told me, running his wrists down my side in place of his hands.

"I don't care, Jimmy. I love you," I said, and it was the first time I'd said it since he asked me to. He pulled me in again for another kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth and pushing the backs of my knees against the bed. "Easy tiger," I teased.

"I haven't held you in so long (y/n)," he replied, pushing himself even closer to me, my body flush with his own. I felt him, hard against my thigh. I kissed him again, hard, and let him push me onto the bed, his own weight on top of mine. He began to nip at my neck, and I sighed contentedly. He went to cup my breast with his hand, but came short when he realised his hands could not move the same, could not feel. "Baby, I'm sorry," he apologised, sitting up on his knees and pulling away. I sat up with him and put my hands around his neck, fiddling with the hair at its nape.

"You aren't giving up that easy are you?" I jibed. "After all, you have a mouth in perfect working order." He grinned at me, pulling me into another hungry kiss. He nibbled down my neck again.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to undress yourself, doll." I did as instructed, pulling my jumper over my head while Jimmy watched. He returned to kissing my collarbone as I undid my bra. His kisses travelled over my breasts, wooden hand against my side. He kissed along my chest, eventually moving to take one of my nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it as I sighed. He bit down on it and I yelped, scolding him lightly by giving him a little slap on the arm. He grinned again at my reaction, before kissing his way down my sternum. He stopped for a second, giving me an opportunity to pull my trousers off for him. I went to pull my underwear down but he stopped me, instead using his teeth to pull them down and bringing them the rest of the way with his prosthetic. I laughed at his actions, until he buried his face into my heat, licking over my clit again and again. I felt myself get quickly wetter as he flicked his tongue up my slit. His attention went back to my clit, circling it as I dug my fingers into his hair, pulling at it and moaning as I did. I felt my cheeks flush when he came back up the bed to kiss me again, my taste still on his lips. "I'm feeling a little uncomfortable in these pants, do you think you can help doll?" he asked. I happily obliged.

"Of course baby." I pulled his shirt of his shoulders slowly, the removed his vest, taking my time to run my hands all across his chest and take it all in again. I ran my hand over his stomach and reached to palm him through his trousers. He groaned and closed his eyes. Then I took off the trousers, getting him to sit up in order to help me. I could see the shame in his eyes so as soon as they were off I kissed him hard and put my hands into his pants, stroking his cock. He let out the most delicious moan into the kiss. After a minute of this we were both desperate for it so I bit his earlobe and pulled his cock out of his pants, guiding it to the right place. He pushed into me slowly.

"Fuck," he swore, before capturing my mouth with his and thrusting again. I let out another moan into his mouth as he bit down hard on my lip. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, speeding up his thrusts with considerable lack of control. It had been a while since we had sex, so the desperation in his movements was very apparent. He let out the most beautiful gasps and moans, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers into his hair as he continued to nip and suck at my collarbone. I tugged at his brown curls and he groaned breathily. He recaptured my lips in his own and I let out a moan as he pushed deeper into me.

"Jimmy," I panted into his ear, before pulling on his earlobe with my teeth. He let out what was almost a growl and fucked me even harder. I felt myself drawing closer to finishing and let out a desperate string of swears.

“Come on, baby doll, fuckin finish for me,” Jimmy murmured deeply, kissing along my jaw and neck before biting down on my collarbone. I let out a gasp as I felt a wave of pleasure over me, clenching around him and digging my nails into his back. He kept going, his thrusts sloppy, coaxing me through my orgasm until a faltering moan fell from his lips and he pulled out, spilling his load onto my stomach. He lay on top of me, spent, and I pulled my fingers through his hair, running my nails against his scalp.

“You really love me?” I asked, as his hot breath brushed my neck. Before he answered he pressed soft kisses against my shoulder.

“Of course I do, doll face.”

#jimmy darling #jimmy darling smut #jimmy darling x reader #ahs smut #ahs freakshow #ahs x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #american horror story

319 notes · View notes

xswestallenfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Hope it Wasn’t a Mistake

Smut! Missing scenes from 3x01, what happens in between four Kamikaze shots and "title of our sex tape"

Archive of Our Own

Mesmerized by her laugh, it catches Jake by surprise when he feels Amy’s hand on top of his own. She doesn’t stop there. Amy slides her hand up Jake’s forearm and squeezes his bicep. The look in her eyes is so tantalizing it makes the rest of the room blurry.

The air feels thick with thoughts left unspoken, it makes Jake feel vulnerable. He’s just about to make a joke, kill the mood, bring them back to familiar territory, when Amy leans in towards him and whispers,

“Dance with me.”

Jake’s laughing now. “There’s no music.”

“Yes there is.” Amy insists. “Listen”

She sways in her seat to the rhythm of the music playing on the overhead speakers. The volume is low, like it always is in a fancy restaurant, so the diners can talk. But, it’s playing.

“Come on!” Amy pouts. “Dance with me!”

It’s a good thing Jake’s never been afraid of embarrassing himself, because that’s what he’s about to do as he stands up and takes her hands. Most of their meal and each of their last kamikaze shots is left abandoned on the table.

Amy pulls herself closer to Jake. He takes her in, unsure if he’s ever been this close to her before, almost chest to chest. They’re both tipsy, so their movements are a little off beat. Amy still manages to set on his toes twice in the first two steps.

There isn’t a dance floor, so Jake twirls Amy under his arm in between their table and the neighboring one. Other people in the restaurant have started starting, but neither Jake or Amy notice. They’re too busy letting their hands roam.

Jake feels her let out a deep breath as his hands slide down her waist. Her fingers skim the lapel of his jacket before settling on his shoulders.

“I’ve gotten good at this.” Amy says with pride.

“Well, considering how horrible of a dancer you were, it would be more impressive if you’d found a way to get worse.” He teases.

“I could trip you.”

The smirk on her face just begging him to retaliate.

Jake takes advantage of Amy’s tipsiness and gently pushes her backwards, making her think for a second she’s going to fall. But then, his arm catches her. He’s holding her in a dip, looking down into her eyes.

Amy can’t hear the music anymore over the pound of her heart. The shining light she sees around Jake could be the chandelier or it could just be his glow. She thinks she sees him bending down to her and she closes her eyes in anticipation.

“ Excuse me, ”

The shrill voice makes Amy’s eyes snap open, Jake steadies her back to her feet.

Their waitress is tapping Jake on his shoulder, looking perturbed.

“Can you please sit down? You’re disturbing our other guests.”

“Oh sorr-”

Jake’s slurred apology is cut off by Amy.

“We’re just dancing.” She tells the waitress.

“Ma’am, this is a restaurant, not a ballroom.”

“So? Does that make dancing illegal here? What is this Footloose?”

Amy looks to Jake for support. He’s not sure what’s going on, so he just nods and hopes the situation will deescalate itself soon.

The waitress takes a deep breath before saying, “Well, if you can’t sit down at your table, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Oh, you’re not asking us to do anything. We’re leaving because we want to. Come on, Jake.”

Amy snatched her coat off the back of the chair before downing the last of her Kamikaze shots.

Jake follows suit, slamming his shot glass back onto the table. “Check please.”

They walk out of the restaurant hand in hand, a little unsteady, but with their heads held high. The rush of the cool night air is slightly sobering.

Jake starts laughing uncontrollably.

“What?” Amy asks.

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Well, I can’t believe how that woman killed the mood.”

That puts a glimmer in Jake’s eye. He looks at her with mischievous delight. “The mood. ”

Amy doesn’t say anything, she just smiles and looks down at her feet. She’s shifting back and forth on the spot, hips swaying just a little.

“You’re doing your chilly dance.” Jake informs her.

“I call it the warming dance.”

“Is it working?”

Amy sighs, “Not yet.”

“Here”

Jake wraps her tight in his arms and pulls her in close. He positions her hands on either side of his neck, so his bare skin can warm her.

Amy smirks.

“You could’ve just given me your jacket.”

“But then I would be cold.”

She giggles and feels her body move against him.

Their eyes are locked again. The shining light Jake sees around Amy is just her glow, not the streetlights, he’s sure of it.

“I like this better than your jacket anyway.” Amy admits.

“You do?”

“Yeah, it sets the mood. ”

They’re both smiling as they draw closer, eventually closing the gap between their lips. Jake feels Amy’s eyelash tickle his cheek and she feels his hands grip her tighter. Neither of them is cold anymore. What started as sweet grows more passionate as they deepen the kiss. Jake’s hands massage Amy’s waist and the small of her back, while one of her travels down his chest.

Jake’s breathless when he pulls his lips away.

“Uh, we should um, get a cab.”

It’s the last thing he wants to do, but they made rules and it was important to Amy. He knows the feel of her lips on his for one more second would make it too difficult to stop there.

“Okay.” At first, Amy is disappointed. But a moment later, she’s biting her lip and whispering to Jake, “Can we go to your apartment?”

They don’t talk much in the cab. Amy’s head rests on Jake’s shoulder. Their hands intertwined on top of Jake’s thigh.

When they get out in front of Jakes building, Amy feels like she’s walking on air. The rules she’d created that afternoon were completely out of her mind, which was now entirely comprised of Jake.

He had never felt more nervous in his life. With shaking hands he opened his apartment door and gestured for Amy to go in. He helped her out of her coat and moved to hang it up, but he didn’t get the chance.

The coat fell to the floor as Amy grabbed Jake and pushed him up against the wall, kissing him with the determined force of the overachiever she is. Though caught off guard, Jake quickly recovered and matched her fervor. He swelled with pride when he pulled a soft whimper from her.

Amy’s hands brushed over his shoulders to rid him of his jacket. Next, she moved on to the buttons of his shirt. While she was distracted, Jake seized the opportunity to kiss her neck.

Those pesky little buttons slipped through Amy’s hands when she shook under the sensation of Jake licking and sucking his way down to the neckline of her dress. His hands reached around and unzipped her dress. It started to fall and Amy stepped back to slip it off completely.

Jake swallowed. His eyes wide, taking her in. Amy usually felt a little self-conscious undressing in front of someone for the first time. But, standing in front of Jake, in her lacy pink bra and panties, she felt incredibly sexy. She was starting to smile, amused by how long he stood and stared, when she felt his arms around her again.

Jake lifted Amy off her feet, holding her around her back and under her knees. She instinctively put her arms around his neck. He carried her like that, bridal style, into his room and put her down on the bed.

He was starting again. Looking down at her with desire and admiration.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

Amy smiled. The affection in his eyes was too powerful. He was sincere. Amy thought to herself how he hadn’t seen anything yet. She sat up and unhooked her bra.

Jake came over her. His lips joining her, his hand cradling her head as he leaned her back onto the mattress. She twisted her hands in his brown curls.

Slowly, Jake made his way down to Amy’s chest. He cupped both her breasts and ran the pad of his thumbs over her nipples. He kissed a trail from her collar bone till he could take one of her nipples in his mouth. She arched her back under him, gasping when she felt his erection press into her thigh.

Pulling him by the hair, Amy made him look up at her.

“Take your clothes off, Peralta.”

Jake started undressing, starting with his half-unbuttoned shirt. Amy couldn’t wait for him to get there, so she went for his belt herself. She pulled it from his pants loops and threw it across the room. Jake slid his hand under her panties and squeezed her ass with one hand before pulling damp lace off with the other. He pushed Amy back down on the bed and positioned his face between her legs.

As Amy spread herself open for him, Jake kissed her inner thigh. He’d never understood the comparison of vulvas to roses until now. He gently moved his finger over Amy’s petals. She was quivering at the touch, breathing too fast to beg his fingers to find where she needed him. Better yet, his tongue did. Amy moaned and bucked her hips. She closed her eyes and was taken captive by the electric sensation.

Pleasuring someone else had never felt so good for Jake. He’d do anything to keep hearing Amy make those moans, gasps, and breathy whines that almost formed a word. He tentatively swirled his finger around her entrance, groaning himself at the feel of how wet she was.

“Ah- please…” Amy cried. “Oh god, Jake…”

Without lessening his attention on her clit, Jake pressed a finger inside her. Amy writhed as he moved it in and out. She’s tight and so slick. Jake added a second finger and curled them in ‘come hither’ motion inside her.

“JAKE!” Amy screamed out.

It was like a tidal wave crashing over her. Jake feels her clit pulse against his lips. He keeps working his fingers in her, a shore to meet her every wave of bliss.

When he felt Amy relax, Jake pulled his fingers out. He admired how she’d left his fingers glistening. He licked his lips, prepared to make a show of cleaning his fingers off, but Amy pulled him up towards her. Face to face in the darkness of the room, nothing but the sound of each other’s breath in their ears, and the feel of each other’s skin on their own. Jake pressed his forehead to Amy’s. She lifted her chin to kiss him. Somehow, this felt more intimate than their previous activity.

The total satisfaction Amy felt moments ago was replaced by an even greater desire when she felt Jake’s erection once again rub against her leg. She reached down to stroke him.

“Fuckkkkk Amy.” He purred.

“Do you keep condoms in your bedside table or your wallet?”

“Uh-” It was hard to remember when she was touching him like that. “Um, both.”

Amy smiled brightly. No bigger turn on than someone who’s prepared.

Slippery fingers and low light caused him to fumble with the wrapper in his hate, but Jake finally got the condom on and turned Amy’s giggle into a moan as he moved his hand up her thigh to her hip. He held her steady and she arched towards him. Slowly, he pushed in.

Amy hummed as she felt stretched by him. It hurt just a little, which made it feel so good.

“Oh Jake, oh my god.”

“Good?” He asked, ready to retreat.

Amy nodded, “Really good.” and circled her hips.

She felt unbelievable around him. So wet and warm, and she gripped him so tight. It was better than he imagined, and he was a little ashamed of how much he’d imagined it. She curled her leg around him, pulling him closer.

Jake moaned “Holy fuck, you’re so hot.”

Amy’s content hums turned to moans she couldn’t hold back as she moved with his ever quickening rhythm.

“Jake…. Jake–oh fuck-ahh…”

“Oh Ames, cum for me.” He breathed into her neck.

She pulled his hair and clenched around him, crying out his name. It sent Jake over the edge, he released into his own free fall, holding her for dear life.

They both laid still, looking up at the ceiling above them. With sex, everything had felt natural and fluid. Now, they each felt stiff and unsure how to return to normal interaction. Jake decided to try.

“So…. we broke a rule.”

#peraltiago #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn nine nine fanfiction #jake x amy #jake peralta #amy santiago #smut #jake and amy #jake peralta x amy santiago #peraltiago fic

99 notes · View notes

imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.

So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.

“Hello, little girl.”

But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.

It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.

“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.

“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.

I hoped not.

Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”

“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.

“Barely,” he corrected.

“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”

I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.

“Yeah, sure feels like it.”

His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.

“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”

“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”

He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.

“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”

“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.

He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”

“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”

Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.

It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”

He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”

“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”

“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.

“My last one is on Wednesday.”

The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”

“You should call my professors and yell at them.”

He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”

“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”

After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”

It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”

The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.

But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.

“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”

“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.

“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”

But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.

“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.

But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”

“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”

“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.

“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.

He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.

“I want… you to go to bed.”

“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.

Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”

“I love you, too, old man.”

He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.

“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.

“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.

Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”

“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, little girl.”

—————————————————

Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.

It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.

The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.

I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”

“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.

“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.

“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.

But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.

“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.

“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”

“But you weren’t,” I snorted.

Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”

There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.

But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”

I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.

He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.

Speaking of…

"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them."

In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.

"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me."

While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.

“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.

Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever."

The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.

A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.

“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.

Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.

As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.

It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”

But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.

Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.

His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.

Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—

“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.

Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.

The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.

I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.

For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.

Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.

He kept a few for me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.

“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.

“This is wildly inappropriate.”

“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.

I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.

Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.

There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.

“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.

Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”

The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.

I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.

But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.

I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.

Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”

His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.

“Take me home.”

Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.

“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige."

Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.

I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.

“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”

With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.

I couldn’t resist.

“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.

“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.

After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.

—————————————————

The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.

“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.

Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.

From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”

It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.

“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.

“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted you so badly.”

There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.

“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”

Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.

“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.

I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.

“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”

Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.

“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”

“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”

“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”

He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.

“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.

“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.

He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.

“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”

The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.

“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.

“I don’t know…”

If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.

“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”

It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.

“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.

“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.

I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.

It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.

“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.

“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”

Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.

“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”

I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.

His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.

But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.

Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.

“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”

My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.

I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.

My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.

Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.

That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.

It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.

“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”

“Gross,” I joked.

“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.

“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”

Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.

“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.

“Good afternoon, Spencer.”

I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.

And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”

Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.

It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.

Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”

In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.

“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”

Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”

Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.

“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.

“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”

“And do what?”

It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.

Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.

And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

| Finale |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #here to misbehave #h2m #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #reid series #spencer reid request #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid #reid request

528 notes · View notes

sub-danny · 3 years

Note

It’s @i-am-dead-inside-666

Can you imagine Niki spending too much time with his car and not enough time with you. So you fuck him in the car (although there’s really not much room so maybe not), or on the car, or somewhere where you can grab his curls and force him to stare at his car whilst you fuck him? Just to remind him who he belongs to Ygm?

I totally get you, and I loved this thought so much and seeming as we literally have no Sub!Niki content out there, I decided to make this into a request and write it because we need more sub!Niki content!

So here's a quick drabble I wrote today for it, I decided to go with Niki x Male reader as it just made sense with what I had in my mind so hope that's okay!

Warnings: Slight spanking, anal fingering, anal sex, sex on top of car, bratty Niki

The keys rattle in the lock as you open the door to your apartment. Walking in you call out Niki’s name and pause for a second yet you hear no reply. Once again you find yourself arriving home without Niki here, and likely wouldn’t be appearing until you had fallen asleep. Coming home once again to an empty bed plays on your patience. Patience that is wearing quite thin.

You could understand that racing is important to Niki, as much as your work is important to you, yet you expect some level of time between the two of you, especially late nights yet his obsession with beating James had driven him to spend more and more time working on his car late into the night. Even when the rest of his crew had left he would remain. You could count on it that he is there now.

As you predicted the garage is where you found him as the sun set over the horizon. All of the garage’s lights were out and the doors were firmly shut apart from the Ferrari. As you draw near you can see him leaning over the front of the car, checking the sturdiness of the little windshield.

Too busy within his own thoughts Niki doesn’t hear the sound of your footsteps approaching until your arm suddenly wrap around his waist, pulling his back into your chest as you place a kiss on his clothed shoulder.

“Y/n!” he exclaims, surprised at your sudden appearance.

“You should have been at home,” You mutter, your grip tightening around his which causes him to hiss through his teeth from the increasing pressure.

“I need to do some final checkups-” Niki starts to argue, squirming in your grasp in an attempt to turn around to face you but you hold him tight preventing his movement.

“That is no excuse Niki and you know it.”

You tilt your head slightly, pulling it away from his shoulder to glare at the car in front of you. It is Niki’s pride and joy but to you, it’s just a piece of metal that has wedged its way between your relationship.

“I only have one bit left to finish and then I’ll-” he begins to say again, but his apparent need to focus on the car rather than on you causes a scowl to appear upon your face.

“No. You don’t belong to this goddamn car Niki, you belong to me.”

The hand you had wrapped around his waist now trails up his chest, seeking the zipper of his suit and when you find it, your hand starts to tug it down. Niki isn’t wearing anything under his suit as soon as you start to pull the material down, his bareback is pressed into your clothed chest.

“Y/n.” he finally moans out, feeling his cock pick up in excitement.

As you finish tugging the suit down to his ankles, he attempts to move again, so he could straddle you but instead, you place your hand between his shoulder blades and quickly pushes him down onto the top of the car, making him huff in surprise. You promptly made work with your own zippers, pulling your cock out.

Due to the slanted bonnet, it’s a difficult position for the both of you, so you wrap one arm around his waist to pull his ass up while your other hand goes to curl your fingers through his curly hair, pulling his head up as his chest presses onto the car.

You bend forward, letting your cock slide into the crevice of his ass but nothing further yet, determined to make him wait for you knew how impatient he could get. Your back presses against his as you place your lips by the side of his ear and growl,

“I want you to look at the car as I fuck you, I want you to chant my name as you are thrusted upon the car. I want you to know that you belong to me.”

“I’m yours, of course, I’m yours,” Niki instantly replies in a snarky tone but as soon as you bit his ear lobe and tug it, his voice shatters into a low groan.

“Do you always have to be so bratty Niki?”

“It’s how you like me.”

You pull back, just to bring your hand down upon his ass in a warning which made him jolt and let out a little yelp of surprise.

“I could just leave you here Niki, no pleasure, nothing to fill you if that’s how you are going to act.”

“No wait, please! I won’t do it anymore, please,” Niki starts to beg, trying to grind back on you. He’s too erect now that to leave him like this would be torture. “I’ll be good, I will” he pleads, trying to turn his head to look at you, but your grip on his hair holds him steady.

Needing your own gratification, you decide to accept his apology and quickly with your other hand that’s holding his ass up, you briefly pull it away to cover your fingers in spit and bring it to his entrance.

Feeling your fingers press into him, Niki shudders with pleasure, his mouth opening to gape a little as he feels the way his entrance is stretched open up to you and how your two fingers press in and out of him in quick succession.

When you feel you have prepared Niki enough you pull your fingers out of him, repositioning your hand on his hip to pull him up to your crotch again and without much of a warning you press into him.

His back arches as he let out a loud moan, feeling the way you push into him, spearing him on your cock. As you settle entirely within him, he lets out a lewd moan. He could feel the way your cock pulses inside of him, how close you were to his prostate and he needs to feel you closer, he needs you deeper, nothing had ever felt better to him. You give him a few seconds to get used to being inside of him before you start to thrust in and out, leaving only the tip of you inside of him then pushing back into him. Each time you try to bury yourself as far as you can inside of him and it makes his whole body quiver with anticipation.

When your tip finally hit his prostate his grinds his ass back into you as he exclaims, “Fuck,”

“Such a dirty mouth of yours. What would your mother say?” you quip at him, making him groan more and though you couldn’t see it, the beginning of a blush settles upon his cheeks.

“What did I tell you to say, Niki?” you remind him as you angle your hips to thrust into his prostate again, watching the way he jolts and let out little gasps every time.

“That I’m, fuck, I’m yours! I’m yours,” he cries out as you push back into him again, making his whole body rock on the car.

Niki continues to chant the phrase until the pleasure starts to overwhelm him and all he could moan is your name and then finally when he’s on the edge of release, his mind is so clouded in a lust haze he can’t speak anymore. His jaw has slackened, gasping loudly at each thrust into him until you hit into his abused prostate so hard that Niki saw stars as his eyes roll into his head and he comes all over his car, ruining all the previous cleaning he had done to it only an hour before.

His whole chest heaves as you finally let go of his sweat-soaked hair and without that support, his face collapses onto the car. He lays there as you continue to thrust his body up and down the front of the car, chasing your own orgasm now. Only a few minutes after him, you eventually come inside of him and whisper praises into his ear about how good he had been for you, and how glad you were that he knew he is yours.

#sub!niki #niki lauda #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda x you #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #subdanielbrühl

91 notes · View notes

awanderingdeal · 3 years

Note

Hello there! Would you please consider writing a fic where maybe Leo or a fan wears a dress or paints his nails or something else feminine and gets bullied online so the entire team then starts wearing dresses out in retaliation? I think Leo is the perfect example of flipping the V to normative gender ideals

Hi! Thank you for this ask. I hope you don't mind, but I kind of took this as inspiration and ran with it. I used Finn just because it fits my own personal headcanons that he would be the one that would be a bit more adventurous fashion wise, although I definitely agree Leo is the nail painter in that relationship! I hope you like it!

Apologies for the excessive use of italics in this fic!

CW: food mentions, some swearing, implied Instagram bullying and a child with very mild illness (hay fever).

Rating: T

Let me know if you think I missed anything or need to change the rating.

All characters in this fic are from Sweater Weather universe and belong to @lumosinlove

“Are you going to take that dress off?” June asked, blowing on the undercoat she’d just applied to her nails. Finn’s eyes dropped from the TV screen to the black fabric draping over his body. He brushed his fingers over the material, enjoying the texture of the sheer polka dots that decorated the dress. From afar, they were difficult to see, but at this distance they shined. His own little secret.

“No,” Finn replied, the word slipping from his mouth felt foreign, as if he hadn’t chosen to say it. “ Is that okay?”

“It’s generally considered polite to ask before you borrow people’s clothing, but sure, why not?” A loud cheer erupted from the TV notifying Finn the score on the basketball game he had been watching had changed. He desperately wanted to check it, but he continued to hold June’s gaze. “The Knicks,” June offered and Finn breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you going to wear it out later?” She didn’t wait for his reply, proffering two bottles of polish for Finn’s perusal, a redcurrant and a mauve.

“The red,” Finn decided after a beat. “No, I think I’ll get changed before we go to the theatre.”

“Alright then,” June hummed, glancing at her cell. “Logan is trying to call you, by the way.”

“Yes, my cell, I know exactly where that is,” Finn muttered to himself, stabbing at the remote to pause the TV. It took a few minutes of searching, the device hidden between the folds of the bean bag he was lounging on, but eventually Logan’s face was filling all 6.1 inches of the screen. “Lo!”

“Hey.”

Finn loved the greeting on Logan’s tongue, one of those that he never seemed to be able to stop his accent dripping through. Finn thought perhaps the sentiment was painted on his face, Logan peering at him curiously through the lens. “Isn’t that June’s dress?”

The dress. Finn had forgotten all about it. “Yes.”

He hadn’t meant for the reply to be said with such abruptness, but it felt good, all the tension coiling in his chest being released in the word.

Logan’s expression was challenging, similar to that June had given him earlier. “I was just going to say you look better in it.”

“Oh.”

June unfurled her legs from beneath her, throwing herself into view of the screen, her left hand held awkwardly in front of her. “I’m right here, Tremblay!”

***

“Love, you need to get out of the kitchen. You’re being very distracting.”

Finn frowned at Leo’s statement. “I’m not doing anything?” And for once, he wasn’t. He wasn’t trying to guess the weight of irrelevant objects. He wasn’t playing with the stray bits of dough Leo had left aside for decoration. He wasn’t even relaying facts about his current favourite interest. Finn was just watching.

Sometimes he liked to do that. He liked seeing Leo’s long fingers curled around the handle of the knife, his movements fluid and confident, his expression soft with quiet concentration. Occasionally, he’d cock his head, humming contemplatively and Finn could take the opportunity to offer his taste buds.

“It’s not a you problem, it’s a me problem,” Leo chuckled, setting the knife down on the chopping board. “I keep looking up and you’re just -” Finn followed Leo’s gaze as it wandered down to the exposed skin between Finn’s t-shirt and his skirt. “- I’m trying to meal prep and it’s going to take all week at this rate.”

The t-shirt had belonged to Logan, an old Harvard hockey throwback that had managed to make it through several wardrobe purges, so, whilst it was wide enough for Finn, the length was awkward. He hadn’t really considered his boyfriend’s reactions as he’d cut the item to fall several inches above his belly button, the crop looking far more purposeful than it previously had.

“Oh this old thing, I just threw it on,” Finn smirked, as he pushed off the counter he'd been leaning on. He rounded the island, stealing a carrot as he passed, until he planted himself in front of Leo. "Do you want help? It'd be quicker?"

"Now we both know neither of those things are true." Leo raised a critical eyebrow, his laughter smooth and sweet. He turned to face Finn more fully, his hand reaching to pass the forest green material of Finn's skirt through his fingers. "I like this colour on you."

"It has pockets! I totally get why Lily's always shouting about them. They're very convenient." Finn shoved his hands in the well-concealed pocket, pulling his cell from its depths. "See."

"Nice," Leo said, his smile making the edges of his face crinkle. "How about you let me finish up here and then we can find Lo and get his opinion on this outfit?"

"Fine," Finn groaned, resisting the temptation to draw Leo in a hug, and perhaps something more. "I'm gonna go and look over that report the accountant sent over. Do you want me to check yours over too?"

"Please," Leo nodded, his smile growing wider. "You're the best."

"You feed me, I make sure you don't get arrested, that's what relationships are all about, right?"

"Right," Leo ran his fingers over the skirt one last time and stepped back to put some space between them. Finn turned to leave, barely getting a few paces in before Leo called him. "Wait!"

"Yeah?"

"Just one kiss now would be okay."

Finn shook his head, letting Leo draw him back in with a chuckle. Leo's hands, always warm, settled on Finn's waist and he leaned down to press their lips together.

***

Finn winced as Aveline sneezed again, the forceful burst of air covering his sweater in droplets. He felt sorry for her; she was struggling with a bout of hay fever that was making her red-nosed and irritable, but the sweater was one of Finn’s favourites. A vintage, hand knitted blue thing he’d found in a thrift store in Cambridge for an absolute steal. Back then, it had been the scene of Bambi and his friends on it that had grasped Finn’s attention, however, he’d come to love it for its perfect fit and the fact it never failed to spark a conversation.

“Harzy, thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” Finn tried not to let his relief show too much seeing Kris’ approach, his arms outstretched to gather his daughter. “I can’t even put her down to go to the bathroom at the moment without her screaming.”

Finn chuckled, holding a wriggling Aveline tighter to stop her launching herself before her father was close enough. “Papa!” she cried, the exclamation melded neatly into a large yawn.

“Come, mon chou,” Kris soothed, letting Aveline bury her face into the crook of his neck and playing a gentle pattern with his fingers over her back. “Let’s go and see if Vroom-vroom has any magic up his sleeve, ey? He always knows what to do.”

“Vroom-vroom?” Finn whispered the question.

“Sergei,” Kris explained with a gleeful smile despite the tiredness etched into his face. He shifted Aveline into a more comfortable position. “Thanks again for holding her.”

“Anytime.”

Finn had barely been alone in the Dumais’ second living room for a minute when Katie came crashing in. He wondered briefly if he should redirect her back to the other room where everybody was gathered, the thought quickly interrupted by Katie tugging on the hem of his skirt. “Can you spin again? Please?”

Unable to resist her large doe eyes, Finn twirled for her, his skirt swirling and billowing around him until he began to go dizzy.

“Encore! Encore!”

Finn didn’t need Logan around to translate that for him, he’d seen enough Broadway shows to understand the request.

“No more, Katie Belle. I’m going to puke,” Finn laughed, lifting Katie into his arms. “You’re growing too quickly! I swear you were only this big the last time I saw you,” he teased, spreading the thumb and index finger of his free hand a few inches apart.

“I’ll be as tall as you soon!” Katie giggled, patting Finn on his head.

“Then you can carry me,” Finn teased. He was just reaching to bop Katie on the nose when the unmistakable sound of a camera shutter closing grabbed his attention.

“Logan!” Katie gasped, struggling in Finn’s arms for a second like little Aveline had done. “Put me down.”

Finn obliged, watching Katie run toward Logan with a fond smile.

“Did you fix it?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“Ouais,” Logan nodded, “I gave it back to Maja.”

“Merci, merci, merci!” Katie wrapped her arms around Logan’s hips in a hug before running off, presumably to find Maja.

Finn crossed the room, opening his arms for Logan to walk into. He rested his chin on Logan’s head, breathing in the familiar smell of his shampoo. “What were you up to?”

“Just taking a photo of two of my favourite people,” Logan mumbled into Finn’s chest.

“Can I see?”

“Oui, it’s very cute. ” Logan stepped back, pulling the photo up onto the screen. It was a nice one, both Finn and Katie’s head tipped back slightly with bright laughter. Finn tracked down the photo, Katie’s legs clinging to his waist where the faux leather skirt started. He breathed in, filling his lungs with air and then expelling it quickly.

“Post it.”

Logan looked at him, eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

“Not really, but I’m fed up with changing my clothes all the time and I’m surprised I haven’t been papped anyway. I’d rather do this on my own terms. It’s a fucking skirt, it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Tell me to do it again,” Logan reached out a hand, squeezing gently as Finn took it.

“Post it.”

***

“Stop reading,” Leo sighed, plucking Finn’s cell from his hand.

Finn matched his sigh, burying his head into his hands. He didn’t need to look at the screen anyway, the words burned into his eyes. How anybody had looked at a photo of two people, one of whom was a child, laughing and had churned out hatred was mystifying to him. Finn had been expecting that though, he’d been around long enough to know there were some assholes out there. When he’d replied to one of the nicer ones he hadn’t really considered how he would feel about that going viral. About becoming the face of something he hadn’t really asked for.

Roaringlion17: Harzy! This fit is spectacular, I love the skirt <3 I just wanted to ask if you are trans and what pronouns you would like us to use?

OfficialFOHara: @roaringlion17 Thank you! He/him pronouns are great! I’m not trans. I just think it’s dumb that boys can’t wear skirts. Or dresses for that matter. I like clothes, not boxes.

The reply had now been featured on every gossip column possible and was beginning to filter into more esteemed news too. One of them had even called him, the face of a revolution, which had made Finn cringe. He supposed it was better than the hateful slurs his PR team were battling to keep off the photo.

“Hey,” Logan took the seat next to Finn where he’d slumped himself at the dining table. “Look at me.” Finn lifted his head, meeting Logan’s eyes, the deep green something he wanted to get lost in right now. He thought Logan was going to ask for the thousandth time if Finn wanted him to delete it, but all he got was the fierce, determined gaze Logan sported on the ice. “This is going to pass. Tomorrow, somebody will cheat on somebody and you will be old news. Do you want to see something?”

Finn nodded. He didn’t know what he was consenting to, but he trusted Logan to make it something that would make him smile. Leo dragged another of the chairs around to sit on Finn’s left hand side, setting his confiscated cell in front of him, the Instagram app open to Thomas’ profile. Logan leaned forward, tapping on the latest photo.

Thomas’ smile was wide as he sat on a window sill, kicking out the long zebra print skirt cloaking his legs. The caption underneath read ‘You’re just jealous that I wear it better than you! #boyswearskirtstoo’

“That’s -”

“Wait a second,” Logan reached for the phone again, setting it down with a picture of James’ visible. He was wearing an ochre coloured corduroy skirt that clearly belonged to Lily, the fabric straining on thighs. I’m feeling myself in this, tbh. Please hold whilst I order one in my size #boys wearskirtstoo.

Finn snorted, the sound wet with the tears he was struggling to hold back.

The hashtags kept coming.

Cap and Loops in their respective jersey’s tucked into pleated skirts. These Lions know fashion is not gendered #boyswearskirtstoo

Ollie in a shimmering gold knee length piece. Shine bright! #boyswearskirtstoo

Nado, Kuny, Smitty and Kane, arms slung around one another's shoulders, all wearing varying shades of pink. On Wednesdays, we wear pink #boyswearskirtstoo. Finn would bet good money that Kuny was behind that caption.

Dumo, Sergei and their wives, alongside their troupe of children, each one of them wearing a different coloured tutu. Dumo had opted to just include the hashtag, or rather his social media team had, because the man himself most definitely did not know how to upload the photo.

Kasey and Natalie looked effortlessly cool dressed in white tennis skirts and floral bomber jackets. I’m not sure what all the fuss is about? #boyswearskirtstoo

Alex was wearing a very similar black skirt to Finn's in his photo. Who wore it better? #boyswearskirtstoo #thatsmylittlebrother

“He’s an idiot, but I love him,” Finn laughed wetly.

“There’s more,” Logan smirked as he tapped at the screen again, almost brimming with an excited energy. He placed the cell back down, leaving his hand to block the next photo a little longer. Finn grabbed the device as soon as Logan revealed the image.

It was perfect.

Leo and Logan lounged on the sofa, a little further apart than they would normally sit. Leo clutching his favourite mug and Logan with sketchpad in hand. They both looked easy in their outfits, as if the skirts were a part of them. Leo’s was long, hitting just above his ankle, a navy lining coated in a tulle that was embellished with celestial bodies. Logan was looking at the camera, his eyes just visible under the brim of his cap. His skirt was shorter, the denim flaring over his thick thighs. In this house we respect people’s right to wear whatever the fuck they want #boyswearskirtstoo

Finn stopped trying to fight the tears, letting the moisture well in his eyes. “Thank you,” he choked out, pushing himself from his chair. Leo and Logan had their arms around him before he could ask. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” He couldn’t seem to make the words stop, his body shaking with sobs, his boyfriend’s arms remaining sure around him until Finn wiped at his face and muttered an apology. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Leo swept his thumb over Finn’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “What can we do? What do you need?”

Finn let out a heavy breath, leaning into Logan’s hold. “I think I want to send a thank you to the group chat and then snacks and cuddles? I can deal with the world tomorrow.”

“Okay then, snacks and cuddles. We deal with the world tomorrow.”

#finn o'hara #leo knut #logan tremblay #rating: t #cw: food #cw: implied bullying #cw: swearing #cw: minor illness #sweater weather #lumosinlove

109 notes · View notes

streetlight11 · 3 years

Text

Birthday Gift

Summary: If you told your younger self 4 years ago that you would be in a happy, long distance relationship with someone who lives miles away from you up till today, your younger self would have laughed at you. But here you are, 4 years later, happy and totally in love with the boy you met online after he randomly followed you on social media. But you've never once met him in person. On your 24th birthday, you were getting a birthday gift that you never thought you would receive so soon.

Theme: long distance relationship au, strangers to lovers

Genre: super fluffy

WC: 2k

Pairing: Bae Jacob x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! This has been in my drafts for quite a bit so here it is. This fic is too too fluffy, even for me who wrote this. Cobie is such a sweetheart, I can't-... Anyways, I hope you like this as much as I enjoy writing it! :)

Being in a long distance relationship is difficult as it needs to have a huge amount of trust, understanding, discipline and a lot of reassurance. However, despite all the fights you may have due to miscommunications and most of the time just lack of physical affection, you still cherish and love your boyfriend very much. You met your boyfriend online as he added you on social media a few years back. You clicked on his profile only to see that he lived in South Korea.

He looks to be a professional dancer and also a full time student in one of the colleges there. Not to mention, super good looking too. However, you weren’t really expecting anything at that point of time only because you don’t really believe in long distance relationships. You’ve always thought it might be hard and that it will never last.

So you just accepted his request and followed him back. The next day, you were in class when you got a DM from someone. And since you rarely got a DM from any guys, you were surprised to see his username pop up.

You clicked the message after about 10 minutes or so to see what he texted you, thinking he was just another weirdo who wants to scam you.

His message said;

“Hello! I saw your account and I really love your content. I’m sorry if this is too weird. I understand if you don’t wish to reply.”

With that, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as you didn’t know why but you began to type your reply, “Haha thank you! That’s so nice of you to say that.” You hit the send button and a few minutes later, he replied. That’s when you began to chat with him for quite a while before he asked.

“I’m so sorry, where have my manners gone? I’m Bae Joon Young but you can just call me Jacob. And you are?”

You replied to him with a smile as your fingers tapped against your smartphone, “I’m Y/F/N but you can call me Y/N.”

Ever since then, you have been chatting with him over DMs for quite a while, just to see if you can sort of trust and be comfortable with him or not. It took you almost 5 months to finally add him in your kakao talk.

Both of you have already done both voice and video call which means you already knew how each other looked and you seemed to have grown your trust in him. Jacob seemed like a genuine guy as you found out that he was your age internationally. Months became years and both of you have already introduced your partners to your parents.

However, at first, your parents weren’t too sure about this whole long distance relationship thing. But they didn’t want to disappoint you so instead of asking you to break up and find a local guy, they let you carry on with this relationship if you believe that it would work. Surprisingly, it took your parents less than a month to get warm with Jacob as they finally got comfortable every time he video calls you.

It has been 4 years since you two agreed to pursue this long distance relationship as it marks your 4th anniversary today. You were just lounging in your room when Jacob decided to skype call you through his desktop.

You accepted the call as he smiled adorably into the camera and waved to you, making you giggle as you waved back. “Happy anniversary baby.” Jacob said.

“Happy anniversary my love. Where are you?” You asked.

“I’m in my dorm. Younghoon’s out with our friends.”

“Why aren’t you with them?” You pout.

“I wanted to celebrate our anniversary.”

“Baby, you didn’t have to, you could have called me after.”

“Don’t you want to see me?” He asked sadly.

“Of course I do. It’s just… I feel like I might be the reason why you may not hang out with your friends as often as you do.”

“Baby, listen to me. I’m so lucky to have you as my girlfriend, dang am I lucky to have you reply to my message 4 years ago. I never thought that we could actually last this long but hey, look at us now.” You smiled as you looked down at your hands, only to look back up and see him pout.

“I love you so much, you know that right? And I can never ask for someone to replace you.” He said, making you sigh.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” You asked softly, making him chuckle.

“How I wish I could enter my computer screen and just hug you and kiss you.” He whispered, making you smile sadly, knowing that could never happen, or at least it wouldn’t happen any time soon. You continue talking to him until you fall asleep, making him chuckle softly at your figure. Looking at you through his monitor screen endearingly.

“Goodnight my sweetheart.” He said those last words softly before he ended the call.

Days slowly became weeks and it was the same routine again and again but neither of you were getting bored or tired from it. He would always reassure you that he still loves you and that he would never hurt your feelings in any possible way. It was your birthday that day and your parents had booked a restaurant for you to celebrate and have your birthday dinner with your family, like how it has always been for the past few years.

It would be you, both your parents, your elder sister and her husband along with your 5 years old niece.

You chose to wear a white floral blouse with a pair of denim jeans as you paired it with your heeled sandals. You were in the car with your parents, on your way to the restaurant when Jacob voice called you.

“Hello?” He said.

“Hi Love.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m heading to a restaurant with my family for my birthday dinner. What about you?”

“Oh wow. Where to, this time? I’m just out with the boys.”

“I honestly don’t know. They didn’t tell me.” You laughed as your mother then smiled and spoke up from the front passenger seat.

“Hello dear. How are you sweetie?”

With that, you scooted to the centre of the back seat and put your call on speaker mode. Just then, you heard Jacob respond. “Hello Ma’am, I’m doing well. I wish I could be there to celebrate with all of you.” Jacob said, making you smile sadly as your parents let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s okay son, one of these days, you’ll get to meet our daughter and us.” Your dad said as you could already hear a smile etching on Jacob’s lips.

“Yes sir. I hope so.” Your boyfriend said before you giggled as you turned the speaker mode back off before bringing your phone to your ears. “Hmm, babe I think we’re here. I’ll call you again after dinner okay?” You said into the line.

“It’s okay baby. Don’t worry. Have fun tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too…” You paused for a moment as he waited for you to continue.

“I miss you Jacob.” You couldn’t help but whisper as a tear rolled down your cheek, making him frown.

“Baby please don’t cry. Promise me you won’t cry.” He said, making you nod as you sniffled your cries.

“I’ll try.” You said as you then bid him goodbye before ending the call.

Your sister had already arrived as you and your parents went to the front entrance where a waiter was waiting. Your dad told him that they’ve already made a reservation under your dad’s name as the waiter checked his list and soon smiled at the three of you. “Right this way.” The waiter said as he soon guided you towards the back of the restaurant where there were private rooms with opaque curtains to block the view of those sitting inside.

You were walking last as you texted your boyfriend in the process.

Once you were at the booth, your dad asked you to enter first, in which you got confused but nonetheless did as you were told. However, the minute you pushed the curtains open, your eyes immediately landed on the one person sitting at the very end of the table nearest to the entrance.

You felt your whole body freeze as you couldn’t find the right words. He was there, right in front of you, in one piece. It was him. It was your boyfriend. He was really there physically. You couldn’t believe this.

“Wha- I- When… Omg… Omg…” You whispered as everyone laughed, only for Jacob to chuckle as he got up, making you feel so flustered.

“Happy Birthday my love.” He said, as he walked up to you but you were still frozen in shock.

“Surprise!” Your family said in unison happily.

You locked eyes with Jacob as he engulfed you in a hug. That’s when you began to bawl your eyes out against his shoulder as you could finally feel his arms around your body, holding you tight as though he was afraid of losing you. Jacob laughed softly as he let you cry into his shoulder, while he gently rubs soothing circles in your back to calm you down.

You had your arms wrapped around his waist securely, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear. “Shh, don’t cry baby. Don’t cry.” He whispered in your ear, only for you to cry harder. He laughed even more as your mother and sister were already tearing up at the side.

You pull away from him as he gently wipes your tears with his thumbs. “You’re here… You’re actually here…” You whispered, your breath shaky as he nodded, cupping your face softly in his hands. “Yes love. I’m here. I’m really here.” Jacob said, making you pout. Still unable to believe this was real.

Jacob smiled widely as he pulled you into a hug again, only for you to bury your face in his chest, feeling him draw lazy patterns into your waist. After nearly 30 minutes of you holding onto him and being in your own little bubble, the 7 of you finally settled down to celebrate your birthday dinner. After dinner was over, your parents offered Jacob to stay over at your family home for the next two weeks that he is staying here in your country before he flies back to Korea.

Jacob thanked your parents for letting him stay over as you couldn’t stop holding his hand. The way his hands fit in yours so perfectly as he showered you with so much love and warmth, just like how he did through all the video calls and texts.

That night when everyone had gone home, your parents knew that you probably wanted to spend time with him so they let him sleep in your room.

After both of you had already changed and were getting ready for bed, he pulled you onto his side as you rested your head on his chest. Jacob hugs you close as you tighten your grasp on his shirt. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he glanced down a little.

“I’m just so happy you’re here. I still need time to process this information.” You confessed.

Jacob chuckled softly as he whispered, “I’m really happy to be able to finally see you in person. This means so much to me.”

“Me too.”

Just then, the room fell quiet as you just looked into each other’s eyes, seeing the sparkles coating both your pupils as he gently caressed your cheek. Right at that moment, Jacob seemed to read your mind as he gently pulled you up a little. Without much words, Jacob decides to ask the one question that both of you had in mind.

“Can I kiss you?”

With that, you smiled shyly as you nodded. Jacob smiles in victory as he leans down softly to finally feel your soft lips on his and it has never felt so magical. Both of you took in this new feeling as he kissed you sweetly.

You spent the next two weeks with him, just making the most of your time. A month after he went back to Korea, it was your turn to give him a surprise visit as you managed to book a flight to Korea, asking for Jacob’s help to fetch you at the airport and bring you over to his apartment.

You stayed with Jacob for two days before surprising Jacob for his birthday party. Jacob did such a good job at taking care of you and making sure that you weren’t lost in Korea.

Despite the long distance, it definitely made you two grow stronger and gain even more trust in one another. It was a blessing in disguise that you accepted his request 4 years ago.

And you regretted none of it.

~~~

#the boyz scenarios #the boyz jacob #the boyz joonyoung #the boyz jacob scenarios #the boyz jacob imagines #tbz jacob #tbz joonyoung #tbz joonyoung scenarios #tbz joonyoung imagines #tbz fluff #tbz jacob fluff #jacob bae

107 notes · View notes