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#my mind is opened to changing for 5/6 of these fics
neochan · 8 months
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idk😭 i’m saying apollo bc he’s the god of the sun, light and music so i always saw haechan as his son in demigod aus😭 (i also see him as a poseidon son but anyways) i see mark as an hades son tbh or even zeus(?
BUT i can understand why your saying he can be an hermes son
okay wait i love this discussion because you're making me think, but here are my pairings i have so far, and why. (please note that most of these are not finalized and just surface level thoughts)
mark - child of apollo. i want to write him as very healing and soft, & the mc for his fic would be a child of hades, so like....light meets darkness type fic.
haechan - child of hermes. he's very cunning and annoying and mischievous basically. and the mc for his fic is a child of athena. so she favors plans & outlines and haechan just kinda throws her life into chaos
jeno - child of ares. he's a fighter point blank period. and the mc for his fic is supposed to a child of eros, so very seductive & stuff (might change bc i have a base plot for his fic & well, it doesn't make sense for her to seductive lol)
renjun - this one is also set in stone, but he's a child of posiedon, so very grumpy and moody and his mc is a daughter of aphrodite, so grumpy meets sunshine (like marks)
jaemin - he's a child of aphrodite and his mc is a daughter of hermes. she's very mischievous in this fic and he kinda just....banks off that
jisung and chenle (they' share a fic) - they're both children of hades, and i haven't figures out what the mc is yet, maybe apollo?
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edenesth · 8 months
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The Way to His Heart [6]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 4k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 5 | Fic Masterlist | Part 7
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"Please enjoy your meal, master and mistress. We hope the dishes are to your liking." The servants bowed before leaving the hall after serving dinner for the night.
Sitting up straight, hands folded on your lap, you patiently awaited Seonghwa to begin eating. The enticing aroma of the dishes made your mouth water, and your eyes gleamed as you observed your husband's hands reaching for his chopsticks.
He noticed your gaze, smiled, and rather than taking a piece of meat for himself, he surprised you by placing it in your bowl instead, "Eat up; you must be hungry."
The general sighed as he saw you hesitating to start eating until he had taken the first bite. Amused, he set down his chopsticks and watched as you slumped in your seat, seemingly disappointed that he hadn't begun eating yet.
"Why are you still sitting around? Go ahead and eat," He said, and your eyes widened, "But, my lord, how can I—"
Shaking his head, he picked up his spoon and reached for a tofu dish he had noticed you eyeing for some time, scooping up just enough before holding it to your lips, "Here, you want this, don't you?" Before you could protest, he pushed it closer to you, "Open up before I change my mind," and you couldn't resist, taking a bite.
Eunsook couldn't help snickering into her fist as she witnessed the adorable interaction. You chewed cluelessly on your food, eyes sparkling as you savoured the flavour, while Seonghwa continued to eat with the same spoon, indirectly sharing a kiss with you.
Throughout dinner, your husband focused more on taking care of you, he filled your bowl with a variety of dishes and wiped the corners of your lips whenever your excitement caused a mess. After finishing his own meal, he continued to watch you with admiration as you kept eating.
Concern crept in when he noticed your movements slowing down, and you started breathing rather heavily. It seemed like you were already full but were pushing yourself to eat more, "Hey, slow down. Are you full? You need to stop eating if you are."
You shook your head, reaching for another slice of rolled omelette. Furrowing his brows, he realised you were struggling to swallow. Why were you continuing to eat if you were already so full? It was as if you didn't know when your next meal would be, and you were trying to consume as much as possible for the time being.
"Stop, stop," He repeated firmly, gently holding your wrist and taking the chopsticks from your hand, "Look at me," You took your eyes off the food and finally met his gaze, "Are you afraid you won't get to eat again?" You avoided eye contact and that confirmed his suspicion, it broke his heart to see you still in survival mode.
Feeling like you had done something wrong, you bowed your head and nervously fiddled with your fingers, "I-I'm sorry... I just have never had a proper meal like this before, a-and..."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," He assured, moving to hold your hands and rubbing his thumb over your skin comfortingly, "You're the mistress of this estate now. You can eat anything you want at any time. All you have to do is call for the servants, and they will serve you. As long as I live, you never have to worry about not being able to eat again, you hear me?"
You nodded, moved by the sincerity in his tone and the warmth in his touch and gaze, "I understand. Thank you, my lord."
However, he seemed unsatisfied with something you said, contemplating for a moment before murmuring, "Seonghwa. Just Seonghwa, please."
Your eyes widened, "Wh-what?"
He looked away from your questioning gaze, embarrassed, "You're my wife now, there's no need to be so formal. Just call me Seonghwa from now on."
"Okay... S-Seonghwa." You muttered unsurely, suppressing the blush on your cheeks as he lifted his eyes to stare at you in wonder.
Little did you know, the sound of his name coming from you melted his heart, further deepening the growing affection he had for you. Though it had only been a day or two since he met you, and despite his initial misguided disdain, once he learned the truth about you, an irrational desire to protect you took root within him. For the first time in forever, he found someone worth caring for.
As much as the head maid enjoyed watching the two of you exchange deep gazes all night, the rest of the servants in charge of the dining hall were waiting to clear up and get some rest.
With a loud clearing of her throat, she finally broke you both out of your little staring contest, "Master, mistress, are you finished with dinner? It's getting rather late now, we should probably make haste and clean up the hall before we attract all sorts of insects."
Suddenly remembering that you weren't alone in the hall, the general swiftly collected himself from his slightly flustered state, "Of course, send the maids in. Is the mistress' new quarters prepared?" He checked with Eunsook, moving to help you out of your seat with your hand still in his.
The elderly woman, with a concealed smile, nodded and bowed, "It is, master. I'll leave it to you to show mistress to her room then."
You waved to her as you followed your husband out of the hall, "Thank you for the food, Eunsook. Please tell the kitchen staff they did a wonderful job; every dish was incredibly tasty!"
She nodded with a beam, bowing again, "Yes, mistress. They'll be happy to hear that."
Leading you along, Seonghwa made an effort to appear composed, attempting to hide the joy he felt from walking with your hands intertwined. The passing servants were surprised at the rare sight of their master and mistress walking hand in hand. As they bowed, their smiles widened when you waved at them, and the general's soft chuckle didn't escape their notice.
It amused them how resolute he had initially been about getting rid of you, and now he seemed to have a hard time tearing his eyes away from you for even a moment.
"Come on, you'll love the new quarters," He said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You raised your eyebrows, "But what about my previous room? That was fine too."
He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly at the sudden reminder of The Cold Palace, "Well, I may have broken the door, but that's not the point. The point is that you are now officially my wife, and Lady Park deserves nothing but the best, understood?" You nodded, simply feeling grateful for everything.
"We're here. Welcome to the House of Lotus."
Your jaw dropped at the sight of the beautiful private garden surrounding what was to be your new quarters. A pavilion on the right of the main chamber faced a small pond filled with lotus flowers, "You can relax over there, have some tea and read when the weather is good. This is all yours. If you ever need me for anything, I'm just down the path; we're practically neighbours."
The general panicked when he saw your eyes welling up with tears, releasing your hand to grasp your shoulders, "D-do you not like it? We can arrange a different one for you if you want—"
Shaking your head, you sniffled, "N-no, it's not that. I j-just can't believe this is really all mine. Th-thank you so much, Seonghwa..."
He breathed out in relief, pulling you into his arms as you cried into his neck, "What did I say, you silly girl? Only the best for you." He gazed around in satisfaction; he had intentionally requested his maids to arrange the room closest to his private quarters, wanting to be near you.
Aside from that, the abundance of lotus flowers in this specific area earned it the nickname House of Lotus. Known for its connection with purity, rebirth, and divinity, the lotus flower symbolises rising from a dark place into beauty and rebirth, mirroring its growth process. This was precisely what the general had envisioned for you—a metaphorical representation of new beginnings and a fresh start.
"Master, we have come to prepare mistress for bed. Do we have permission to proceed?"
"Of course, I'll leave you to it then." Your husband had no choice but to leave you as the group of servants assigned to you for the night arrived, hands carrying bath supplies, Yunho's prepared ointment for your wounds, and a fresh piece of nightgown.
"Have a good rest tonight, my dear. We're paying the dressmaker a visit tomorrow; we're getting you new clothes." He pressed a firm kiss onto your head and did not leave until he was sure you had entered the room, reluctantly heading towards his study to wait for updates from Jongho.
Reaching for the Jang family records he had hidden from you earlier, he got back to work. With the week off granted by the King for him to celebrate his wedding, Seonghwa was determined to gather as much intel as he could before setting his plans into motion, "Just you wait, minister. Savour the peace while you still can."
Just when the general believed he had prepared himself to learn the extent of the abuse you had endured throughout your life, he managed to keep his rage in check as he listened to the harrowing details. However, nothing could have prepared him for the new revelation that his aide brought to him.
His disgust for the Minister of Military Affairs, already intense, reached new heights with the secret he had just uncovered. The assistant bowed his head as his master broke into a grin of disbelief, "And here, I thought I was labelled the heartless monster. Clearly, the minister is the rightful owner of the title."
Pointing towards the copy of your family records on his desk, Seonghwa inquired, "What about this? Have you been able to confirm the suspicions I have about those three she-devils?"
Jongho shook his head, "Not yet, sir. We'll need evidence to prove your theory; we might have to dig deeper. Just getting someone to talk about it might not be sufficient for your plan to succeed."
The general nodded, "It's alright, Jongho. We still have some time. So long as we have that piece of evidence before I return to work next week, is that doable?"
After a brief moment of contemplation, his aide replied, "Yes, I think that should be enough time. If that is all for now, I'll be taking my leave, sir."
"Thank you, Jongho. You may go."
Left alone with his thoughts, your husband resisted the urge to run to you immediately. He felt so angry for you that he could almost cry. The depth of your suffering was unimaginable to him, and all he wanted was to embrace you, shield you from the harsh and cruel world, and erase the pain and traumatic memories.
Clutching the book with your family crest, he glared at your father's name, imagining all the ways he could take the old man out.
I promise you, my dear. I'll make them pay.
At the same time, he couldn't stop beating himself up for the way he had treated you on your first day here. His heart ached as he recalled you travelling this far all on your own, only to face continuous mistreatment from him. Even if you had already forgiven him—you weren't even angry at him in the first place, you had to be crazy for that—Seonghwa would never forgive himself for his actions. He would be spending the rest of his days trying to make up for it.
That night, he experienced another restless bout of sleep, tossing and turning as the endless imagined scenes of you being tortured, starved, and treated like cattle haunted his mind. At some point during the night, he couldn't resist the impulse and walked over to your quarters, standing by the entrance like a fool, contemplating whether he should knock.
But he quickly realised that you must not have had any decent rest for who knows how long, and here he was, on the verge of disturbing you just because he couldn't sleep. Gosh, how selfish could he be?
He trudged back to his own room, trying to focus on the thought of you being soundly asleep in your new and comfy bed. Thankfully, this image managed to bring a smile to his face, and just like that, he gradually joined you in dreamland.
"Good morning, mistress! We're here to help you get ready. May we please enter?" Your eyes fluttered open as Eunsook's voice reached you, and a yawn escaped your mouth after having what felt like the most amazing sleep for the first time in years.
You were tempted to hop off your bed and rush to open the door for them, but then you remembered you weren't supposed to do so. Clearing your throat, you answered politely, "Yes, you may enter."
The servants bowed, unable to hide their smiles upon seeing you sitting up on your bed, still marvelling at the grand interior of your new room despite having already spent one night there.
Unbeknownst to you, the maids had been competing to be chosen to serve you. In just your third day here, you had become the most precious figure in the entire estate, and everyone wished to work under you. This particular group of maids had been selected, and their excitement was palpable as they enthusiastically bathed, dressed, and fixed your hair and makeup for the day.
On the other hand, the less fortunate few found themselves assigned to prepare the general for the day. Especially now, with Jongho, the only one capable of handling Seonghwa, engaged in special duties elsewhere, they had no choice but to put up with their master, even as their hearts yearned to be in the House of Lotus.
The morning unfolded with remarkable ease, thanks to your presence. Your husband proved more manageable than usual, his typical grogginess dissipating as he witnessed your excitement over breakfast. It made him both happy and sad—happy to see you so easily satisfied but sad at the realisation of the deprivation you had endured. Your genuine appreciation for even the most basic necessities was a testament to your difficult past.
Repeatedly, he had to remind himself that your history was just that—history. There was nothing he could do to alter it. But he was your present and future, and he would do everything to ensure you had nothing but the best moving forward.
Having already provided you with the best quarters on his estate, the next step was to adorn you in the finest clothes in all of Joseon. Whether or not you arrived with clothing from your old home was irrelevant to him; he would have burned every piece of it to the ground regardless. His goal now was to ensure that, at first sight, everyone would recognise you as the esteemed and beloved wife of the terrifying General Park.
Waiting for you by his carriage, he was not disappointed by your reaction to the vehicle as he assisted you inside. Your eyes widened, and your jaw fell in astonishment as you took in the spacious interior. Usually, he kept the carriage's small windows closed, but anticipating your excitement, he left them open. A subtle smile played on his lips as you gazed in awe at the passing scenery.
Cute.
The dressmaker's shop was situated in the middle of a lively street in town, requiring the two of you to cover the remaining distance on foot while the carriage and its coachmen awaited your return. Accompanied by two servants trailing closely behind, the four of you began making your way through the bustling crowd.
While Seonghwa found himself irritated by the unending stares drawn by both of your extraordinary visuals, your attention was captivated by the surroundings.
This marked your first visit to the town, evident from your childlike fascination, a source of amusement for the observing servants who shared delighted giggles. Throughout the journey, your husband ensured a tight grip on your hand, apprehensive about the possibility of losing you in the busy crowd.
The commoners, oblivious to your identities, continued their activities nonchalantly. Little did they know they were looking at the famous General Park and his new wife. If your true status were known, the street might have cleared within seconds.
Growing weary of the continuous gazes, the general promptly guided you towards the shop he intended to visit.
Upon entering, you were captivated by the array of colourful and elegant hanbok on display. The servants remained close by, engaging in lively discussions about their preferred designs. Typically, Seonghwa would disapprove of his employees being so casual around him, but witnessing the joy on your face as you excitedly joined in on their conversation, he couldn't bring himself to reprimand the two maids. Sighing, he moved further into the establishment, searching for the owner.
Spotting the familiar back hunched over work at the rear of the salon, he couldn't help but roll his eyes before saying, "I still don't understand why you won't hire a helper. You could be robbed in broad daylight, for all we know. You weren't even aware you have a customer, being busy back here."
Turning around with a raised brow, the dressmaker countered, "You're wrong, Park Seonghwa. I didn't bother heading out because I knew it was you. That's how good I am, and that's why I don't need to spend unnecessarily on a helper."
Before the general stood an old friend from his early military days, one who had decided the life of a soldier was not his path and had pursued his passion in fashion, "Yes, yes. It's nice to see you too, Kim Hongjoong. Good to know you haven't changed much."
The shorter man grinned deviously at his friend's sarcastic response, glancing at you, "Aye, I haven't. Unlike you, General Park."
Hongjoong set his tools down and continued, "Heard you finally got married, and I didn't believe it, not until today. That lovely woman over there, that's her, isn't it? She must be quite the special one for you to accompany her all this way. This isn't like you at all. The Seonghwa I know would never waste his time coming here."
If there was one thing your husband did not miss about his friend, it was his relentless teasing. He rolled his eyes again when it went on, "You know, I really thought I'd never get to see you again, but here you are, all because of her."
Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest, "One more word from you, Hongjoong, and you can kiss this business deal goodbye. Don't come crying to me when I end up employing another dressmaker for all of my wife's clothing."
Jaws falling slack, Hongjoong exclaimed, "Hold on, did I hear that right? All of your wife's clothing?"
The general smirked, "Yes, you heard correctly. I'm hiring you for the long term, enough for you to shut down your shop and work exclusively for my estate."
Hongjoong chuckled, "Closing my shop might be a stretch, but a steady income is tempting. I'm on board. You have good taste, Seonghwa. I assure you won't regret hiring me. I'll make Lady Park the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon, mark my words."
"Excellent. I'm counting on it, Hongjoong."
As pleased as your husband was to have secured a reliable dressmaker for you, there are moments when he regrets such decisions. He experiences a sense of déjà vu as he observes you interacting with his friend, recalling the uneasy feeling he had witnessing your reaction to Yunho.
"My lady, it seems my task is already defined. Your beauty is already exceptional, and I'm afraid I won't have to work too hard to enhance it at all." Hongjoong has always been quite the charmer, and Seonghwa disliked that he was using it on you, his wife, of all people.
The blush on your face, as adorable as it was, irked the general at the moment, as he wasn't the reason for it. He watched, unamused, as the dressmaker smugly took your measurements.
Contrary to your calm and oblivious demeanour, the two maids were keenly aware of their master's internal fury, manifested in the glares he shot at his friend. They trembled at the thought of his wrath, unaware that Hongjoong was the only one audacious enough to tease the general without fearing severe consequences. The two had always shared what people termed a love-hate relationship.
Other than you, your husband and the servants felt a sense of relief once the dressmaker completed noting your measurements, checking your design preferences, and determining which colours suited your skin tone best.
"Alright, it looks like we're done for now. I'll do my best to deliver the first batch of dresses to your estate by next week. Is that okay?" Seonghwa softened as soon as he recognised his friend's serious and professional side, nodding quickly, "That sounds perfect. Thank you, Hongjoong."
The shorter man gave him a sincere smile, "No, thank you, Seonghwa. I mean it in a good way when I say you've changed. Your wife is lovely, by the way. I'll be seeing you soon, my friend."
As the four of you made your way out of the shop, the general's irritation resurfaced as quickly as it had dissipated just moments ago when Hongjoong sent you a flirty wink, "Have a safe journey back. I can't wait to see you again, Lady Park."
Cutting short your innocent wave, Seonghwa swiftly wrapped a strong arm around your back and guided you away, not missing his friend's annoying laughter, "Let's go; the carriage is waiting." He grumbled, jealousy and petty anger flooding his veins.
But those emotions vanished as soon as you both got into the vehicle, the rhythmic rocking motion lulling you into drowsiness. In your sleepy state, your head landed on his shoulder, and you whispered, "Thank you, Seonghwa. I had fun today."
He pulled you closer, ensuring your comfort, and pressed his lips against your hair.
"Anything for you, my wife."
« Preview of Part 7 »
"Can you all believe this? Just a few days into marriage, and the general has already sent word to His Majesty that he has an important agenda to discuss in our next assembly?" The minister guffawed, downing a glass of rice wine in amusement.
His wife grinned slyly, "Do you reckon it has anything to do with her?"
"Oh, I bet it has everything to do with her!" Jinah chortled.
"He must have been so disgusted by the sight of her bare from all that makeup," Jinhee shook her head before panicking, "Wait a damn minute, what if he asks to swap her for one of us?"
Jinjoo whined, "Father, you better not agree to that if it happens!"
"You silly girls, your father would never let any of that happen. Right, honey?" Their mother drawled, curling up to her husband seductively. The mere thought of your potential misery brought them satisfaction.
Minister Jang nodded, "Don't worry, girls. Knowing Park Seonghwa, he most likely would not entertain the idea or ask for anything like that. We'll just have to wait and see what he wishes to talk about. This should be interesting."
"That better be the case." Jinhee muttered, arms crossed.
Jinah smirked, "Or who knows, he's already disposed of her and decided the only right thing to do is to report it."
Cruel laughter echoed through the dining hall of the Jang estate as your family speculated on the possible whereabouts of your remains. None of them noticed the mole within their staff, attentively listening to every word.
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I know you're all probably dying to know Minister Jang's secret but what fun will it be for y'all to find out so soon, am I right?😝 Not to worry though, I promise it'll all be revealed in due time.
Thank you so much for 900+ followers! As always, hope you enjoyed and let me know all your thoughts! <3
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mrs-kmikaelson · 2 months
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What's in a Name? (+)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader Summary: The one time that you don't walk away. Warnings: mentions of substance abuse, vvs suggestive Words: 1.2K
Masterlist
a/n: if ur js finding this fic, this is the bonus! the fives times r does walk away are here. this happens right after no.5, btw.
6. A lie is the truth
Arlington, Virginia, 2008
You couldn't sleep.
All you could think of was the fact that you were in Aaron's bed and he was right outside the door. The thunder continued to boom but your thoughts were louder than the storm outside; they consumed you.
It was irrational. You'd known him for nearly five years, and in that time, you'd only seen him an equivalent of five times, yet he was still on your mind. He'd been on your mind non-stop since New York—and that was crazy.
You felt crazy.
You felt crazy because he was right. You felt something.
It all started off as a game. You just wanted to get under his skin, play with fire a bit, but you got burned. You couldn't handle the heat; you couldn't handle the way the game stopped being a game. It became something else.
Hotch's role was to get irritated, maybe a bit flustered, but he was never supposed to flirt back. He was never supposed to want to know you— you couldn't even remember the last time anyone wanted to do that.
Lovers came and went over the years, but none had ever felt like this. It was always physical, but you and Aaron hadn't even kissed. Without any of that, he still had you in his grip. 
You couldn't remember the last time you'd been with anybody. You don't know if you'd been holding off on purpose, if it was conscious. You'd been holding out for a guy you couldn't even be with, and now that you had the chance, you were the one holding back.
God, if he knew you before. If you'd met before, things would've been so different. Maybe he could've saved you from yourself. 
But he didn't. When you were drowning, you pulled yourself out of the water. That old version of you died, and Y/N was born. Y/N was the one who saved you. When you had no one else, Y/N was there. She was your shoulder to cry on until she taught you not to cry anymore, to focus.
But now what did you have? An apartment you barely lived in and nobody that really knew you. But there was a man out there, a good man, who said he wanted to.
You didn't know what you'd show him—you weren't even sure if you really knew you.
But maybe... maybe you could find out together.
You'd never know if you didn't try.
With that thought, you threw the covers back and beelined for the door. When you opened it, you were surprised to find Aaron already behind the threshold, fist raised to knock. In an instant, he dropped it.
"Y/N—"
You cut him off. "Wait, just— just let me get this out." He looked confused. "If I don't get it out, I don't think I ever will."
There was a beat of silence, but then he spoke. "Okay."
His eyes were kind and patient as you tried to gather the words, everything you wanted to say vanishing from your fingertips. So you went with the first thing that popped into your mind. "My name is Lorelai." Surprise shone on his face, but you paid it little mind, racing to say everything before you lost the courage. "But people used to call me Lai. It was a play on words, because I was a liar. I lied about a lot of things. I got involved with the wrong kinds of people, got my hands on the wrong types of things, I was—" you swallowed. "I was an addict. And my life was gonna go down the drain, but things changed. Then I got on the government radar, and suddenly I wasn't Lai anymore, but I was still a liar; the difference was just that I was a better liar. More powerful. Now I'm Y/N. And that name changed everything for me. That is what is in a name. Everything."
By the time you finished, you were breathing heavy. You averted your eyes as a chuckle left you. "So, tell me, Aaron, do you still want to know me?"
You were expecting him to leave, to end it there and tell you he'd drive you home tomorrow, but instead, you felt sudden warmth on your cheeks as his hands wiped away tears you didn't know were there. "Look at me." When you didn't respond, he tried again, "Y/N. Look at me."
You looked up, expecting to see judgement and hatred, anger, but you saw none of that. You saw openness and understanding, and other emotions you couldn't pinpoint. You realized you couldn't decipher it because no one had ever looked at you this way.
His voice was soft and firm all at the same time. "Y/N, I don't care what your name is. I don't care if a lie is the truth— I care about you." He paused as if he wanted his words to soak in, but not once did he look away. "I want to know you, whether that be about Lorelai or Y/N doesn't matter. This woman in front of me right now, she is who I want to know." 
Your heart beat rapidly against your ribcage as he leaned in closer. Déjà vu from your moment in the kitchen hit you hard, your eyes going back to his lips, the same lips that just uttered that he didn't care, the same lips that just washed away your fears. 
He closed his eyes and then pleaded, "Let me know you, Y/N."
That shattered any last semblance of doubt you had left, and you barely had time to think about it before you were slamming your lips into his. 
He reciprocated immediately, kissing you with the fervour of a man who'd been suffocated and you were his air. A sensation you couldn't name erupted all over your body, from your head to your toes, and you wondered how you had lived so long without ever feeling this. Of all the kisses you'd ever had, none could compare to this one.
But this didn't just feel like a kiss. It felt like a promise.
Your lips moved in sync together, just like when you'd been dancing that night in Washington. It was like your body knew all the steps to this dance without ever having learned it.
So now you wondered, if this was supposed to be wrong, why did it feel more right than anything you'd ever done?
Eventually, you had to pull away. His eyes were still closed. You grinned. "How about you get to know me tomorrow night at dinner?"
That caused his eyes to open, a full-fledged smile making its way onto his face, and you knew then and there that you'd do anything to make him smile like that all the time. "8 o'clock?"
You nodded and agreed, "It's a date."
His smile got wider, and then he ducked his head into the crook of your neck where it fit perfectly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, recalling how he tensed the last time you did so. Now he had a different reaction, pressing his lips against your neck and littering kisses everywhere.
Tomorrow, you had a date at 8'oclock. But as Aaron kicked the door closed, you wondered if you'd make it out of bed to get there.
You supposed you could miss one date.
You had a feeling there would be many more to make up for it.
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ziggyzolch · 6 months
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Masterlist (Will be updated)
Second blog: @ziggyzolch2 
Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/ziggyzolch
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziggyzolch
☆ Requests Open! ☆
⤑ I write for mainly: Mean girls and the MCU. I might write for other fandoms, those are just my main ones.
⤑ My fics are usually reader/female character
⤑ That's it, will edit if anything else.
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❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧 Regina George 𖤣❀𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰
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❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰
Queen Bee-atch (Completed)
Summary: You, a self-proclaimed loser, are going into Junior year with one goal in mind: Avoid Regina George. Nobody notices you, so it shouldn't be too hard…right? Warnings: Underage drinking, eating disorders (Not explicit), insomnia?, lotta cursing.
Chapter I - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5
Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8
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☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ Wanda Maximoff ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
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☆☆ ★ ✮ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮
Headache (In progress)
Summary: If you could describe yourself in three words, they would be: little shit speedster. Causing trouble was your favorite pastime, and you've never been caught. That would change, however, when an angsty witch is assigned to capture you. Warnings: Swearing
Chapter I - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5
☆☆ ★ ✮ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮☆☆ ★ ✮ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮
Your Prettiness is Seeping Through (In Progress)
Summary: You and Wanda get sent to a mental hospital at the same time. Warnings: Depictions of Bulimia and depression, suicidal ideation and attempt, self harm, stuff like that.
Chapter I - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
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thelov3lybookworm · 1 year
Text
I Didn't Ask For This (part ten)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.
All her dreams would be shattered.
But maybe she can salvage them?
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.
A/n: I really love this chapter. Let's see if you can find the reference I made in here. I honestly make so many references in the fics I write, but no one has noticed them.
Anyways, enjoy!
•○🌑○•
The tension in the air could have been cut by a blunt knife.
The most powerful High Lord in the history of Prythian was staring down one of the most feared man in Prythian, the Spymaster of the Night Court.
They were nearly chest to chest, and Y/n feared that if someone didn't step in, this place would be bathed in blood. So she cleared her throat.
Azriel looked at her, brows furrowed.
"I– can we go back? Can you take me back?"
"Sure–" As he began to turn to her, the High Lord's hand shot out, clamping down on his shoulders. Azriel glared at the hand and then it's owner.
"Cassian can take her back. Or if its him you want to go with, please wait for sometime." Rhys glanced at her while saying the second part. "My office. Now." He threw at Azriel before stalking out of the room.
Everyone watched him go, a muscle feathering in Azriel's jaw as he turned to her. "Don't worry about me. I'll be there soon." With that, he turned and followed Rhys.
Y/n's stomach turned as she thought about what could happen to Azriel. The high lord was said to be ruthless and cunning, and even though he hadn't seemed like it when they first met, she didn't know if she could sit still until she was sure that her husband was safe. The urge to follow him and make sure he wouldn't be harmed was overpowering any sense she had, but before she could take a step, Cassian placed a hand on her shoulder.
He tilted his head towards the door, and she nodded. Glancing back one last time to where Azriel had disappeared, she followed Cassian outside.
She stayed quiet the whole time, muttering a thanks to Cassian when they landed before locking herself in her room.
She couldn't stop thinking about Azriel and what he'd done today. Allegedly done today.
She changed into her nightgown, climbing into bed hoping to sleep. Maybe then her mind would stop trying to find some meaning in his actions. Maybe then her heart would stop trying to make her feel things she didn't want to feel.
•○🌑○•
It had been almost more than an hour now, and Y/n couldn't sleep no matter what she did. With a huff of annoyance, she threw the covers aside and stood, stomping to the balcony and leaning against the railing. Her minds inability to just shut the hell up was frustrating.
As her mind drifted through the plethora of thoughts in her head again, she couldn't help but think back to where Azriel might be right now. Was he back yet? He would come to meet her if he was, right?
As soon as she had those thoughts, she heard the familiar scuff of boots coming near, and her chest started loosening. From the sound of it, the door opened and closed behind her, but she didn't turn. She couldn't, because she knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from throwing her arms around him and slapping him at the same time. She wondered which she would prefer.
She could feel him coming closer, and she gripped the railing tightly.
"Are you mad at me?" He asked quietly, having stopped a little distance away.
She shook her head. "Did you really do it?"
A pause. "Yes."
She nodded, not knowing what to say to that. He took that as a cue to step forward. She knew he did because one moment her back was cold, and the next, she could feel his body heat through the thin silk of her gown. Suddenly she felt extremely exposed, considering the thing she was wearing barely reached her knee, and it was only held up by thin strings.
She inwardly cursed Nesta for this. Y/n had never worn something like this, and when she and Nesta had started to become friends, Nesta was appaled when she realised Y/n did not sleep half naked.
"Do you have nothing to say to that?" Azriel asked, his body like a furnace behind her.
"What do you want me to say?"
"How– how do you feel about all of this?"
"I don't know..."
"Does it bother you?"
She shook her head. "No, it does not. But what about the women and children?"
"They were evacuated to safety. And your brother, he's here."
At that, she finally turned slightly to look at him. She hadn't even thought of her brother who lived in the camp. She didn't have to worry about Velda as she lived in a different camp.
Azriel towered over her, studying her.
"What?"
"He is living in an inn across the Sidra."
"Really?" When he nodded, relief spread through her. She mumbled a thank you before turning back to the view in front of her.
"Your....your father is alive."
She stiffened. "What?" She whispered.
"He burned in the fire, but I just felt like he didn't suffer enough for his crimes." He stated casually, as if he was telling her about the weather.
She blinked at the night sky before asking the same question again.
"I bought him here. He is where we keep all the prisoners and I... interrogate them. He is badly injured and won't be able to escape. I wanted to ask you before I did anything to him."
She knew exactly what he meant with that.
"What did you want to ask."
"You were the one who suffered from his ministrations. You deserve the right to punish him however you want. You can either let him live, give him a quick death or let me handle him."
"What would letting you handle him entail?"
"I'll go all Spymaster on him. I'll do all the things I do to the prisoners to get information out of them."
She nodded. Thinking for some time, she finally decided. "Then I'll let you handle him."
He was silent for a moment. "Are you sure?"
"I am."
His hands landed on either side of her on the railing as he leaned closer. "Thank you." Butterflies erupted in her stomach as he kissed her shoulder before straightening. "Come, you should sleep."
She turned to him, and ignoring her mind, she followed her heart's urge to wrap her arms around her husband. He froze for a moment before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and using the other to cradle the back of her head.
"Thank you. You didn't need to do this." She mumbled against his chest.
"I absolutely did." She pulled back from him. He smiled and kissed her forehead before tugging her back into the room.
As she lay down and he arranged the covers around her, a thought suddenly occurred to her.
"Azriel? Your father and brothers lived in the camp too. What happened to them?"
He gave her a smile, and honestly she should have been scared of it. But she wasn't, and that scared her more than anything else did.
"They're dead."
"Did you see them?"
"Yes. And it gave me immense satisfaction."
"Wish I could have witnessed it."
He blinked at her, a slow smile spreading on his face. He pushed her hair back from her face as he straightened. "Hmm. Next time I do something like this, I'll make sure to take you with me."
She grinned, just a little bit, shaking her head. He stared at her for a few moments before nodding his head and turning away. "Good night."
She didn't want him to go. Atleast, not yet.
She had only a moment to make her choice, and she did.
Her heart danced with joy while her mind screamed at her that this was a bad idea.
"Azriel." She burst out before she lost her nerve.
He paused, turning back slightly. "Yes?"
"Can you– can you stay?"
He stared at her. "What? You– you want me to stay?"
Instantly, a blush was climbing up her neck. What if he didn't want to stay? She kicked herself mentally. "Only if you wish to–"
"I do." His eyes shone. "Um– do you want me to sleep on the ground? I have no problem with it."
She shook her head. "Stay next to me. Please."
The room was dark, the only light provided by the moonlight filtering in from the doors of the balcony. She almost couldn't see the flush on his neck and face as he rounded the bed, where a few clothes had appeared. He took them and walked into the bathing chamber to change.
When he walked back out he was dressed in loose pants and shirt. He slowly climbed into the bed. He was as stiff as a plank with tension as he lay as far as he could from her.
She smiled and turned on her back. "You can relax you know. You'll never get any sleep if you're that tensed up."
He sighed. "I know."
She bit her lip. "I don't bite...much."
His head whipped to her. And honestly, she agreed. She wasn't bold in any way. She didn't even know where that came from.
"Tell me about something interesting."
"Velaris was built by Rhys's father." He supplied.
"Really? Wasn't he..."
"Cruel? A monster? That he was. But he did build and protect Velaris. The only good thing he did, honestly."
"What was he like?"
Azriel began telling her about the previous High Lord of Night Court, and she listened, her attention rapt. As moments passed, his voice filling the room, he relaxed gradually. He also told her about Cassian's past and his mother.
When he was done, they stayed silent. She processed all the information that had just been dumped on her. She shivered.
"Are you cold?"
"A little."
"Would you accept an olive branch?" She nodded and he pulled her closer. Now she was as stiff as a board.
"Relax. I don't bite...much." He murmured against her hair.
She sat up abruptly. "Was that a joke Spymaster?"
He grinned, pulling her back to his chest. "Maybe." After a pause, he went on. "Sleep. I won't try anything. No funny business unless you ask for it."
"Shame." She mumbled under her breath.
"Did you say something Y/n?"
Of course the bastard heard her. "No."
"I feel like Nesta is a really bad influence on you."
"Shut up." She shoved his chest lightly. He just kissed her head and wished her a good night.
As she drifted off, she felt safer than she had felt in her whole existence. She knew he would protect her always, no matter what.
And maybe that should have scared her, but it just made her feel warm and happy, making something in her chest sing.
•○🌑○•
Part 11
Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo @ivy-34 @aria-chikage
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blouisparadise · 2 months
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Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!
1) Coming Home | Explicit | 2,605 words
It’s coming home, one way or another.
2) Intoxicated | Mature | 4,611 words
In which Louis opens a bar and Harry quickly becomes a regular.
3) Rosas | General Audiences | 4,774 words
Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are friends until they are not.
4) Babydoll | Explicit | 4,775 words
Married to one of the most powerful men in the Mafia, Louis feels nothing but loneliness and dissatisfaction. Lucky for him, his security guard is there to fill the void. Literally.
5) Kiss Me, Don’t Let Go | Not Rated | 6,147 words
Harry turns around, and as soon as he does, he’s met with the most beautiful blue eyes he has ever seen. He doesn’t know why or how, but he finds himself walking towards the sweet vanilla scent that is filling all his senses and making him feel dizzy. “Hey, do you mind if I sit here while I wait for a table to clear up?”
6) Couldn't Forget You If I Tried | Explicit | 7,064 words
“What if he’s ugly?” Zayn leans in the doorway to the living room, raising an eyebrow and fixing Louis with a perplexed gaze. “Then you’ll call me and get me out of it,” Louis attempts a shrug as best as he can with the couch cushions laid out around him. Louis smirks, “I’m going to text him back.” Louis sits up, his eyebrows pull together, and he crafts a perfectly worded text back to the mysterious man he’s been texting with vaguely throughout the week. He writes: "7 is perfect. See you then. x" “I’m not bailing you out of this one. If he’s ugly and boring and terrible you’re just going to have to deal with it,” Zayn shakes his head and crosses his arms, his signal that the conversation is well and truly done. Louis doesn’t mind. He’s got a date.
7) If I Know What Love Is, It's Because Of You | Mature | 7,343 words
Larry sneaks off while filming 'this is us' to go skinny dipping. Leads to extracurricular activities.
8) Finally Free | Explicit | 7,044 words
Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Harry and Louis are room mates studying Psychology at university. They have just finished their final year and are on a pub crawl celebrating. Harry leaves the pub crawl early and Louis leaves with Eleanor, but when they get to the next pub Louis has had enough and dumps Eleanor and runs home to look for Harry and accidentally walks in on Harry stroking his cock and moaning Louis’ name. he smiles, walks to Harry... and then they shag!
9) Whatever Words I Say, However Long I Stay | Not Rated | 7,640 words
Louis is an actor, Harry is his soon to be ex husband's lawyer. There are a lot of things that can go wrong.
10) My Spiteful Ballerina | Mature | 7,809 words
Four times Harry wanted an explanation of Louis' hatred toward him, and one time Louis gives in, in Louis' fashion.
11) Only You Can Set My Heart On Fire | Explicit |9,164 words
Louis fights with management and storms off. Harry comes back and takes care of him. As louis gets lower, Harry becomes more dominant, changing the dynamics of their relationship going forward.
12) Bro To Hoe | Explicit | 9,395 words
The progression of Harry turning Louis into a ‘sissy’. When they first meet, Louis is very much one of the ‘lads’ with his facial hair and tracksuits downing pints of beer and making out with his girlfriend. But when Louis and his girlfriend break up, Harry decides to shoot his shot. Under his instruction and influence, the once ‘straight’ Louis Tomlinson becomes an effeminate pantie-clad bottom desperate to be stuffed full of Harry’s big fat cock.
13) Something ‘Bout You Makes Me Wanna Do Things That I Shouldn't | Explicit | 12,212 words
Note: this is the sequel to this fic.
Harry is infatuated with Louis, and now he found a new way to stalk him. He is still far away from him, but will that stop him from making the boy his?
14) Little Loon, To Love is to Obey | Explicit | 13,742 words
“Checkmate.” Louis grinned like a Cheshire cat that got the cream, relishing the sight of a flustered officer in front of him. He knocked down his opponent's chess piece, savouring the delicious sight of the officer's face contorting with exasperation, anger, and defeat. Louis knew he had won. A story about love, loyalty and indulgence.
15) If Control is My Religion… | Explicit | 14,000 words
“So just to recap, you’ve been vomiting every single morning, and then you seem to be fine for the rest of the day?” Louis nods. “Except for yesterday when Liam was eating a tuna sandwich after practice and it smelled vile. Who the hell even likes tuna sandwiches?” Niall sighs in the way that a disappointed parent might. “Louis, please don’t take this in the wrong way, because I’m not judging you at all. But is there any possibility that you’re pregnant?” Louis scoffs. Technically, it is possible. Louis’ known he was a male carrier since his routine physical when he was sixteen. But it isn’t actually possible, not really. He and Harry always use a condom. Except for that one day a few weeks ago when Louis had forgotten to buy more and they couldn’t wait. And the time the week before that when the condom had broke, but they both figured it was probably fine. Shit.
16) Love Is A Verb | Mature | 15,602 words
What happens when two strangers end up booking a weekend getaway at a cabin that's been double booked?
17) Does It Make You Feel Alive | Mature | 16,715 words
“Hello Mr. Tomlinson, I’m Harry. It’s nice to meet you” Harry walks towards Louis with an outstretched hand. Louis takes his hand and gives him a firm handshake, offering a polite smile. “Please just call me Louis, it’s nice to meet you as well Harry. Although under different circumstances, it would have been nice I suppose” Louis grunts slightly in pain as he chuckles. Harry frowns and sets down his bag, kneeling in front of Louis. “How about we get you that shot huh? Seems like you're in a lot of pain” Harry opens his bag and begins to rifle through it in search of the needed materials.
18) Behind The Scenes Of Us | Not Rated | 16,774 words
A day in the life of vlogger Louis, hockey player Harry, and their son, Oscar.
19) Smooth Like Chocolate | Explicit | 17,609 words
Omega Louis babysits Alpha Harry’s little siblings. Harry comes home from uni break to see this pretty omega baking cookies in his family home.
20) It's Coming Home | Explicit | 20,649 words
Louis arrives at the Euro final, full of anticipation for a night of celebration, camaraderie, and indulgence. As England faces off against Spain, he is ready to enjoy the game, relish the company of his friends, and perhaps let loose with a few drinks. The atmosphere in the VIP area is electrifying, and Louis is in high spirits, revelling in the opulence of the exclusive event. However, his world is turned upside down when a familiar, unmistakable laughter reaches his ears from the crowd. In that split second, a tidal wave of emotions crashes over him—fear, shock, anger, and frustration.
21) Beautiful, Dirty, Rich | Explicit | 23,534 words
Later that night, Louis arrived home and screamed into his pillow when he flopped onto his mattress. This prompted Niall to appear in the doorway with a concerned look on his face. A beer was being nursed carefully in his hand, blue eyes glassy from the booze. “Um… Are you okay?” It came out quietly like he was scared of spooking Louis. Louis dramatically flipped over to stare at his roommate, “I met the love of my life at work, but he’s a club member so it’s forbidden.” He whined loudly, jutting his bottom lip out in faux distress. “Shit Lou, you had me worried. Thought someone died or something,” The boy groaned, strolling over to plop himself onto the mattress, “So, tell me about this guy you wanna fuck.” “Ni he’s the sexiest person I’ve ever met. I want to be his trophy wife he shows off, and have all his babies, and be at his beck and call twenty-four seven,” All he received in return was an unimpressed stare, his friend rolling his eyes at the antics.
22) Bitter Ends Turn Sweet | Explicit | 27,134 words
Louis is an omega who's just completed his criminal justice degree and hoping to get into the alpha-dominated field of police work. He's spent four years hiding his secondary gender in fear that he'll not be taken seriously, or worse, not be able to continue with his chosen career path. After his summer internship is complete, he has plans to move to a more progressive city, where his secondary gender won't be an issue. He goes home to finally relax and spend the last summer with his mother and sisters before he moves and finds that his younger sister has a new best friend - a gorgeous alpha named Harry. With the singer-songwriter alpha in the house hanging around all summer long, Louis has to work even harder to keep his secondary gender hidden, which means drastic measures have to be taken. It certainly doesn't help that Harry is friendly, flirtatious, and extremely tactile...
23) Alone Together | Explicit | 28,320 words
Alpha Harry moves to Oslo, Norway and is perfectly content being mostly alone in a strange foreign land where he barely speaks the language, until a certain skittish blue-eyed boy seeks refuge in his video rental store. Almost immediately, Harry feels connected and protective over him. So what choice does he have when the boy drops other than to take him home and nurse him back to health?
24) About You | Explicit | 38,694 words
Streamer Louis and Harry have been friends for four years (except Louis has no idea what Harry looks like) when he finally surprises Harry by flying to LA for his birthday. They're best friends, they've always been best friends, but living together proves that maybe they've always been a little more than that as well.
25) Coração Selvage | Not Rated | 50,124 words
Louis keeps his eyes on the Wolf, careful about every movement he makes. He keeps his head tilted, deliberately showing the right side of his neck; the mating gland is on the other side, but this still shows he’s not a threat. Zayn answers at the third ring. “Lou?” he asks, confusion seeping into his voice. “Zed,” Louis says quietly, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible. “Zed, I’ve found Harry. He’s feral.”
26) All I've Ever Known | Not Rated | 85,738 words
“H-harry, I-I can’t” Louis put his empty cup on the coffee table and sighed, “I just don’t want to get into it yeah? Why can’t we just catch up, then you go your way, I’ll go mine and we can pretend that all is well and not have this conversation?” He sighed in defeat, he did not want Harry to make him feel, well anything ever again. He knew that talking about them, their relationship, would bring back all those feelings again and he would have to do something about it.
27) Invisible Strings | Explicit | 102,431 words
Louis has been struggling with his social anxiety for years now and is completely content with not leaving the house and having no social contacts. It gives him peace and safety. But when his new delivery guy, Harry, wants to get to know him Louis just can't resist. Together, they find new, creative ways to communicate despite his anxiety. Soon their connection deepens and Louis doesn't want his protected life anymore and instead tries to fight his social anxiety for the first time in years. But how can you change what became your personality over the years? And how can you feel safe again in a world that showed you exactly how dangerous it is outside? A story about finding your inner strength, healing and love that fights all odds.
28) Put A Little Love On Me | Explicit | 105,348 words
Louis is a YouTuber who tells true crime stories, driven by a desire to spread awareness of the horrors happening in the world. Harry, always cynical and annoying to everyone around him, is a detective assigned a case that forces him, against his will, to deal with a person he deeply despises. As their worlds inevitably collide, both are forced to confront themselves and the other person. And neither of them ever thought that something as frightening as what they both have to deal with would end up being the best thing they could find, between the purring of a kitten and the shared warmth under a blanket.
29) Part Time Lover (Shattering Your Illusions Of Love) | Not Rated | 108,174 words
They never warn you about how unexpected finding your soulmate can be. In fact, they only talk about how good and magical it is to have a life shared with this miracle. All the problems you have ever had in life disappear after you exchange your first look with the person assigned by the Universe to you. They never talk about how the people around you act about these soulmates — how they act strange or super excited… It's not practical to have a soulmate or to live with a destined couple. Harry was struck by the presence of his soulmate enough to not accept or be extremely happy about it, and it took a while to understand its importance. Both Louis and Nathan were affected by the influence of soulmates in their lives, but Louis chose one path and Nathan another. Louis was fine with never being involved with anyone like that, and Nathan longed for true love. The three become a clear example of how the Universe should stop interfering with worldly concerns.
30) Streetlights In The Dark Blue | Mature | 120,867 words
Louis Tomlinson is an investigative journalist. He's spent the better part of his life researching the psyches of serial killers, and publishing articles to provide a deeper understanding into their methodologies. His pen-name, Orion, is well known around the globe. An alter-ego that keeps his pockets lined, and his identity private. That is, until a letter arrives at his home address. A letter containing a symbol. One dubbed by a serial killer who'd vanished three years prior. The postage stamp? Bainbridge Island. He'd spent so long peering into the darkness, it should be no surprise to discover that something had been looking back. The island presents a host of mysteries. It also houses a nosy witch, determined to break down his walls. And an FBI agent hellbent on shattering his carefully constructed world.
31) Siren Calls Me Home | Explicit | 133,762 words
Harry’s father had warned him. King Edward of Erendor had whispered his suspicions that Prince Louis of Blackmont was descended from the sirens, monsters from cautionary tales Harry was told as a child. A cruel, cold-hearted, and vicious nature wreathed in a breathtaking exterior, with coy smirks and slow blinks used to bend everyone to his will. His beauty was as well known as his cunning, his greed, and his ruthless grab for power. Time only proved the rumors to be true, and Harry made sure to keep his distance from the prince, never once speaking to him, and doing his best not to even meet his eye. Unfortunately, the ghosts of whispered warnings are powerless when one is up against the very tangible experience of being in Prince Louis’ presence.
32) Prisoner | Explicit | 140,445 words
When Louis Tomlinson heard the jury's verdict, the world crumbled before his glassy blue eyes. Sentenced to five years in prison for a medical malpractice he did not commit, he was transferred to a maximum security prison. His days were numbered, he knew. Harry Styles, his cellmate and the monarch of the prison. Sadist like no other. The fumes coming out of his mouth were pure, bitter, flaming poison. Louis swallowed, certain it would be the last time he would ever do so. His body convulsed and his legs felt tremulous. He could have peed himself from the fear. "When I asked for a cellmate to have fun with, I didn't imagine they'd bring me a little lamb." If God had created Adam, the devil had created Harry.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.
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httpscomexe · 2 months
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Forbidden Secret Desire 5
Summary: You find yourself waking up in his cabin, and honestly it’s peaceful, until a gut wrenching feeling starts making its way into your stomach that something is wrong.
(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)
Parings: Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Forced touch, oblivious reader, language, secluded cabin. Logan is an official warning as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.
Tags: @remmyj10 @sammyluvsfics @badbishsblog @dickmaster3000 @cellyx33
Word Count: 3582 (All other chapters here) Chapter 6
P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.
Enjoy your Forbidden Secret Desire...
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You wake up. Not where you’d fallen asleep mind you. But in a completely different bed, in a completely different room. To be fair though, you don’t remember falling asleep in a bed in the first place.
You hear the sound of plates and other dishes clinking from outside of the room, and you uncover your face from the blanket you’ve been tucked in, which was covering up to your nose. As soon as you breathe in the air, the scent of pine wood, cigar, and cologne immediately fills your nostrils. That’s when you remember where you were. You agreed to let Logan take you to his cabin in the middle of the woods. The drive was lengthy though. You had been awake for at least two hours in the truck before you had finally fallen asleep. You don’t remember getting up and walking to bed though. Or changing out of your day clothes. But you were sure you were just tired, considering the long ride.
Moving to lie on your back, you stare up at the ceiling. Bannisters of hard wood cross over the vaulted ceiling, you follow them with your eyes to the left until you’re staring at a window that was framed in more hardwood, the curtains closed, preventing you from looking outside.
After a few more moments, and the occasional sound of of movement close to the room, you finally decide to sit up, stretching your arms above your head, as you’re sat up you see a door, it was cracked open with the light on, you could tell it was a small bathroom, then you toss some blankets off of your body before beginning to step out of the bed. The bed was high up. If you were standing next to it, the top of the mattress would be about even with your hips. You step down with one foot first, the tips of your toes touching the ground before you slide off until both feet are flat on the hardwood floor. A bedside lamp is on, making it easy to see as it emits a soft yellow light.
You walk up to a tall mirror that seemed to be part of a cabinet, it was locked and closed. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was a dishevelled mess and your eyes were almost half closed, trying desperately to make you fall back asleep, and a red line streaks the side of your right cheek, you were probably lying on some fabric for too long. Your eyes trail down to your clothes, you were wearing a grey, white, and black flannel. It was thick, and you knew it wasn’t yours. One, because you didn’t own any flannels. And two, because, well, you just knew it wasn’t yours. It was also way too big on you. You assume it’s Logan’s. It goes about halfway down your thighs, and the first top two buttons were undone, showing your black lace bra. You lift the shirt slightly, showing your matching panties. Looking around the room for a moment, none of your clothes are in sight. So you decide you should probably go and talk to Logan now.
You open the door, the hinges surprise you when they don’t creak, you naturally assume the cabin was hold since it was Logan’s. He probably just takes good care of it. You tell yourself as you close the door silently behind you. Opposite of the bedroom door was another wooden door painted a dark brown with a brushed golden doorknob. It was open just a little, and you could see a bathroom. Turning your head to the right, was a few feet left of a hallway before there was a double door leading outside and a small area filled in by another larger cabinet that almost reached the ceiling. You could see through the little windows that there were jackets hung up in it. You assumed the door would lead to the backyard, but you still couldn’t see outside. The small window in the door was foggy, and it had a floral design to hide the inside from the outside, and the outside from the inside. Then you turn your head to the left, a hallway about as long or longer than the one on the right, but it led to two different open rooms, and it was aligned with the front door, its window also was covered. You take a few steps forward, until you’re at the end of the hall. You look to your right, a three seater brown cotton couch was facing a fireplace with a large TV mounted over it, and a recliner that matched the couch was angled just slightly as it sat near the couch in order to also face the TV. In between the couch and TV was a large oval rug, red and white, but it looked soft with a wooden coffee table sitting above it, last there was a window, on the right of the front door. You take a few steps forward, and on your left is Logan. His back turned towards you as he does whatever he’s doing at the counter. It was a nice kitchen. The cupboards were all wooded, and the counter was marble. In the centre was an island, two stools standing on the outside, and the wall opposite the island was another large window, on the left of the front door of course, with another door leading into a smaller room that you couldn’t see inside of from your angle.
“Look who’s awake.” You draw your attention away from your thoughts and look back over to Logan. “How long you been up?” He turns back around to look back at whatever he was doing.
“No long… What time is it?” You ask him, making your way to one of the windows and pushing the curtain aside.
“It’s like ten at night.” He tells you as you continue to stare out the window. Snow fell to the ground outside and you stare at it as it piles at least four inches above the dirt. Why is it snowing? You ask yourself, looking up at the sky to see a full moon with dancing little stars surrounding it.
“Here.” He brings you out of your thoughts again and you turn your head to see him holding out a sandwich on a plate. Only then do you realise you’re famished.
“Thank you, Logan.” You take the plate, picking up one of the triangle shaped slices of bread before biting the corner and backing away from the window finally.
“We’re out in the mountains. We just barely avoided the heavier snow.” He explains, knowing you were confused about the snow.
“It’s really quiet out here.” You mumble. And he doesn’t say anything for a moment. Not a single sound occurs in the house as neither of you speak.
“Just how I like it.” You take another small bite of your sandwich, covering your mouth before speaking.
“Where are the clothes I was wearing earlier?”
“You fell asleep in the truck so I carried you inside. It was snowing though, kind of heavy and it stuck to your clothes, got them wet.” He tells you, then nods towards the last closed door. “They’re drying in there.”
“How long have I been asleep for?”
“Like an hour before we got her, then we’ve been here for about five hours so… you’ve been out for six hours. Figured you wake up soon so…” He looks towards your sandwich, implying he made it knowing you’d wake up soon. “Do you need anything else?”
“Do you have anything to drink?” You cover your mouth as you speak again with food in your mouth.
“Yea…” He walks towards the fridge and opens it, you follow behind him and look in the fridge with him. “Apple juice, milk, lemonade, then of course water.” He looks at you, his eyes soft as he tilts his head down to look into your eyes. “I also have chocolate syrup if you’d like chocolate milk.” He adds on.
“Mhm…” You hum and nod your head. Then look around a little. “Where are the cups though?”
“Don’t worry about it.” He tells you, taking out the milk and placing it on the counter before going back and grabbing chocolate syrup too. “How chocolatey do you want it?” He asks, reaching over you and squishing you into the counter slightly as he pulls out a glass.
“Like uh… half?” He nods, then mixes some of the syrup into the glass after pouring in the milk.
“There you go, pup.” He slides the glass carefully closer to you and puts the milk and syrup back into the fridge. You whisper a silent thank you before taking the glass and sipping from it. Why does he seem so… off?
“How are you? Did you get any sleep?” You ask him.
“No, I was waiting for you to wake up.” He tells you, and you know he stayed up late just to feed you. How sweet.
“Aren’t you tired?” He just nods. “Sorry…”
“It’s alright darlin’ really,” he moves closer to you, wrapping his arm around the back of your shoulders to pull you into a side hug. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t wake up hungry.” He squeezes you slightly in the side hug before rubbing his hand up and down your arm as you take another bite of your food.
“I appreciate it… Thank you, Logan.” You look up at him, fuck he’s close, and he smiles down at you.
“Of course.” He tells you, then as you turn your head, he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.
“So uh… is there a separate room?” You ask him after his arm lets go of you so he could walk to the other side of the island.
“No. Just one room, then the living room. Why?”
“Well I was wondering who was sleeping where but-“
“Figured it would be alright if we both sleep in the bed.” He tells you. “If you’re okay with it, of course.”
You think about it. Like you really think about it as you finish your last bite of food and sip more of your chocolate milk. “I mean…”
“The bed is big.” He tries to pry on. “I’d sleep on the couch but I’ll fall off, and I don’t wanna see you sleeping on the couch.” He explains, and the reasons were pretty valid.
You nod. “Okay yea… I don’t mind sleeping with you- er- in the bed with you. If that’s what you prefer.”
“Not about what I prefer.” He tells you.
You shrug. “I’ll take the bed with you, it’ll be more comfortable probably anyways.” You finish your chocolate milk, and he watches as you set the glass into the sink after washing it out.
“Just leave it there, I’ll wash it in the morning.” He tells you as soon as you hand touches the faucet handle.
“I can-“
“I’ll wash it in the morning, pup.” He repeated, his voice sounded almost angry, but you knew he was just tired. So you set the glass in the sink, not washing it as he asked, then back away. “Alright. Need anything else?”
“No…” you say softly.
“Okay. Then let’s get some sleep.” He backs away from the island a few steps, and you walk in front of him, leading the way to the bedroom as he turns out every light behind you. Now you could see through the bathroom door that there was a little light plugged into the wall, probably so anyone could find it in the dark.
You turn right and open the door to the bedroom. He follows behind you, closing the door and locking it. Probably a habit he’s picked up from the mansion's doors. You figure. Then make your way back to the tall bed, crawling up onto it.
As soon as you’re sitting with the blanket over your lap, you look back over at him as he goes into the small bathroom you noticed earlier, closing the door behind him, so you lie down with the blankets just under your breasts.
“Are you hot?” He asks you, just exiting the bathroom. Noticing you weren’t as shrouded in the blankets as before you had woken up not long ago.
“No… a little cold actually…” You tell him as he walks to the other side of the bed, your voice softening as you look up at him, his shirt off and he is now only wearing pyjama pants.
“Well cover up a little more than, angel.” His voice is soft also as he gets onto the bed, exerting less effort than you needed to as he sits next to you, gently pulling the blankets up until they were over your shoulders as you were lying on your side now to face him. “Better?”
You nod, and you watch as he gets under the blankets as well. There’s a decent distance between the both of you on the large bed, you wish you could get closer to him. Just to absorb his warmth.
“Goodnight, pup.” He says, his voice still soft as he gets comfortable under the sheets.
“Goodnight, Logan…” Your tone matches his, and he pulls the cord of a lamp on his bedside that was sitting on his nightstand. Casting the room in darkness.
For a few moments, everything was quiet except for the soft rustle of blankets as Logan moved around until he was comfortable. Then there was nothing as your eyes finally drifted back to sleep…
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When you wake up, the bed feels smaller than it did before. Your eyes open and there’s little slivers of light touching the walls as the sun shone through the curtains. You try to move a little, feeling warmer than you expected to feel waking up, but something heavy keeps you in place. You look down, the blankets that were up to your chin were now just below your waist, and laying on your waist was an arm. Logan's arm was draped across your waist, with his hand laying on your chest, just between your breasts. He was really close to you, his entire front pressed to your back as he continued to sleep. He must’ve moved closer to you in his sleep.
Suddenly, you hear a quiet groan come from behind you, followed by him managing to move closer, as if he wasn’t already pressed against you. Then you hear his gruffy morning voice, and to be honest, it was music to your ears. “Good morning…” His hand leaves your chest as he makes a little space between your bodies, immediately making you feel cold as his hand moves to the bare skin on your waist instead, your shirt ridden up from your sleep.
“Good morning…” Your voice comes out softer than you had expected, a quiet groan emitting from Logan's throat behind you, and you move slightly, attempting to turn over and face him, but he holds you a little tighter. Hesitantly, your hand moves down to his, still resting on your waist. You gently rest your palm on the back of his hand, twirling one of the golden rings that you’ve seen on his middle finger. His hand gently grabs your waist tighter and his hand slips a little further down, now resting on your stomach with your hand still resting on his as he pulls you closer to him, and you feel it as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.
The bed gets lighter and feels less heavy as his weight finally shifts, moving away from you as he leaves the bed, and you sit up slowly, arching your back to stretch as he moves to a dresser.
“Come here, pup.” He tells you, taking out a large grey shirt. Again, you begin to move off the bed, a struggle as your toes hit the ground first before you can slide off. No one needs a bed this damned tall. You tell yourself as you walk up to him. Still dressed in his flannel, your black matching set underneath. “Here.” He says, swinging the grey shirt over his shoulder before he faces you, and his hands move to the buttons on the flannel you were wearing, but you quickly move to try and undo it yourself. “I’ve got it.” He tells you, gently, but firmly, grabbing your wrists and moving your fingers away from the buttons. “Let me…” His hands move back to the shirt, undoing the buttons then taking a step forward as he takes the flannel off of you, then throws it into a little bin not far away. He then takes the grey shirt off of his shoulder, looking you down for a moment before he puts the shirt over your head, fixing it around your arms. “There’s a brush in the bathroom across from this room, can you get it for me please.” He asks, turning back around to grab his own clothes.
Your feet softly touch the ground, and you make no sound as you move through the quiet cabin. In the restroom, there’s a hairbrush hanging from a little hook on the wall, which you grab before heading right back into the bedroom to see Logan dressed in a different flannel, no longer shirtless, and he was also now wearing a pair of jeans.
“Here.” You hand him the brush, which he takes from you.
“Go ahead and sit over there.” He nods towards a little bench with a leather cushion that was in front of the bed. You hadn’t noticed it before since it was hidden by the tower of a bed. You obey though, making your way to sit on the bench, crossing your legs as you stare at the wall.
Then you feel his hands gently on you, turning you and moving you until you were on the edge of the bench, and then you feel it as he begins brushing your hair. Why the fuck was he taking care of you like this? You ask yourself as he carefully brushes through your hair, making caution to not accidentally pull it.
As soon as he’s done, his voice comes from behind you again. “Are you hungry?” You nod slightly, standing up as he begins to leave the room, and you follow closely behind him. “Go ahead and get comfortable on the couch.” He tells you, and it feels like a demand.
“Logan I can-” You stop talking as he turns towards you, a stern look on his face as his eyes stare into yours, silencing you. You see his chest move as he takes a deep breath. Something felt off. With as much as you appreciated his care, it didn’t feel normal for you. You’re so used to just taking care of yourself, no matter the situation.
“Go sit down.” This time there was no comfort in his voice. It was a demand that you follow. Crossing your arms as you turn around and head towards the couch, sitting on your knee before crossing your legs. You hear the sink turn on, and you assume he’s cleaning your glass from last night. “What’re you hungry for?” He asks, and you think of the simplest thing that comes to your mind first. Toast.
“Toast would-”
“We have eggs, bacon, anything you like.” He interrupts you. You stare at him in the reflection of the TV. He's standing with his hand on the fridge handle, but his body is turned towards you. He wanted you to choose something he could actually prepare.
“I uh… surprise me I guess…” You tell him awkwardly, and his reflection moves again, taking contents out of the fridge that you weren’t able to see on the TV.
A few minutes pass. No conversation, but the cabin smelt amazing. You never took Logan as the type to be able to cook, but here you were, being served by him. Even if you really preferred making your own food. You were an adult after all. You hear clicks as he turns the dials off on the stove, and you hear a cupboard close, followed by the sound of two plates being set on the counter. Bringing you back to reality.
His reflection gets close on the TV, until he’s standing right next to you. He hands you a plate, a serving of steak, egg, and potato on the plate. Something he definitely didn’t have to make for you, but it looked amazing with cheese sprinkled on top. You thank him as you take the plate, and he sits right next to you on the couch with his own food.
One of his arms wrap around your shoulders in another side hug, his lips pressing to the top of your head, and you smile slightly, but the smile immediately falters as you then feel his lips press to your cheek, just at the corner of your lips, making you flinch, and you feel yourself practically shrink into the couch. His beard rubs against your cheek as his lips do touch you. It all felt so wrong, as you gently took his arm off of you again, your appetite suddenly smaller. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” He tells you, his voice making your stomach feel funny. “I’ll take care of you. All you have to do is sit there and look beautiful…”
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callsign-dexter · 7 months
Text
Daddy to the Rescue
Request: hi
i was wondering if you could please write about Kelly Severide (chicago fire) having a daughter and maybe while he was at the station she is left with a babysitter but then he has to respond to a call at his house. maybe the reader is stuck so she and kelly are freaking out but he knows he has to stay calm for his daughter and once everyone is safe it is just a bunch of fluff.
totally your choice and maybe the reader is like 5 - 6 ish
Pairings: Kelly Severide x Daughter!Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, hospitals, buried alive, inaccurate medical talk
Masterlist
A/N: I know you said fluff but if you know me and my fics you know I have to throw in some angst in there. Hope you don't mind.
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When you came into Kelly’s life 6 years ago, he was shocked but it was to be expected especially with all the sleeping around he did. You had shown up on his doorstep in your car seat with a note pinned to the diaper bag. He didn't know what to do but when you opened your blue eyes, the ones you got from him, he knew that you were gonna stay and that was it. After first he was apprehensive about telling his team but he needed all the help he could get and the fears he thought he was gonna have of them bashing him and putting him down flew out the window. Afterall Firehouse 51 was a family and family looked out for one another. With him telling them about you means you just got a lot of really cool aunts and uncles and you are going to be really protected.
He was really pissed at your mother for just abandoning you but now you were with him safe and sound. You were the result of a drunken one-night stand, he didn’t even know you existed or that she was pregnant until you just showed up on his doorstep. He despised her and would have some words for her if he ever saw her and he hoped for her sake that he never saw her. 
You loved your dad dearly. When you had met him just when you were a few days old you grew close to him, then again, he was the only parent you had. You depended on him for everything and looked up to him for everything and you felt like you could come to him when something went wrong when you were growing up. You had changed his lifestyle for the good he had stopped drinking until he was blacked out and he stopped bringing random women home. He adored you and you adored him. Nothing could break that bond between you both. Everyone was shocked when they noticed how much his mood had brightened and he wasn’t such a hard ass. Kelly loved showing you off and when you found out his job, he just became your favorite person all over again. He was your hero. 
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It was a Thursday morning and his alarm started to go off at 7:30 AM signaling him to get up and start getting ready for the day and his shift. Normally he would be getting you up to but since your school had been called off due to the heating and sickness going around you would be staying home. He didn’t have to go into work until 10 AM so he would have a little bit of time with you. 
Kelly took a shower and then got dressed in his uniform and brushed his teeth, next he moved out of his room and down the hall to check in on you. He slowly opened the door and smiled seeing that you were still sound asleep and snoring just slightly. He smiled and shook his head. He went into the kitchen and started some breakfast and coffee and then went and switched over the laundry and started getting ready for his 24 hr shift. He needed to call Kimber Halstead to tell her that he would need her. When he found you on his doorstep, he immediately started to look for a babysitter and when Jay and Will, his good friends, heard about this and met you they immediately got him in touch with their younger sister, who he was also good friends with. You and Kimber hit off and the rest was history and she became your babysitter and she only babysat you. She was going to school so it was the perfect opportunity for some extra cash and you were pretty easy to keep. He pulled out his phone as he pulled down a coffee cup and grabbed the pot and poured some coffee in it. He went to her contact and clicked on it and then the call icon, it rang twice before she answered.
“Kelly! What do I owe the pleasure of this call?” Kimber asked 
“Hello, Kimber. I need you to watch Y/N/N. Her school is closed due to some sickness and the heat is out.” He said and took a sip of his coffee.
“I would love to.” She said “Do you want me to come over now?” She asked 
“Please. I’m gonna have breakfast ready so you can eat here.” He said and he could hear her smile.
“That sounds good. I’ll be over in 5.” She said
“Great. I’ll see you soon.” Kelly said 
“See ya, Kelly.” She said and they hung up the phone. 
He put his phone on the counter and then his coffee cup and headed to your room. He opened the door and saw that you had turned over in your sleep and he walked over and knelt down by your bed. He watched you for a minute and then he was stroking your head. You groaned and but your nose scrunched up, a sign you were waking up. “Y/N/N. Sweetheart. It’s time to get up. Kimber will be here soon.” He said and you groaned but blinked your eyes open and cracked them.
“Daddy?” You asked and he smiled.
“Good morning, Sweetheart.” He said and you smiled and then wrapped your arms around him and he picked you up. He started to walk to the kitchen.
“What about school?” You asked, still confused and you laid your head on his shoulder.
“School is closed due to a heating issue and sickness going around.” He said and you nodded and then he sat you down on a chair. “Kimber will be here soon and breakfast is almost ready.” He said and you nodded. Normally he would be having you getting ready for school but since there wasn’t any, he would let it pass and Kimber would be getting you ready for the day. He had just got done mixing the pancake batter when there was a knock at the door and he knew it was Kimber. “You wanna get that?” He asked you and you smiled, you rarely got to open the door but he knew who it was because it was about that time when she said she was going to be there and the Ring notification he got on his phone. You quickly jumped up and ran to the door “Be careful!” He yelled out and listened to you open the door and let out a screech.
“KIMBER!” You yelled out and he heard a laugh from her.
“Hey, Sweetie.” She said “Your daddy know you answered the door?” She asked and he could just see you nod.
“Yes, he let me!” You said excitedly and she chuckled.
“Well, as long as he said it was ok.” She said and she was walking into the kitchen holding you.
“Hi, Kelly.” She said with a smile and he looked up.
“Hi. Breakfast is almost ready.” He said as he flipped the bacon and the pancake. 
“Y/N/N, you wanna help me get cups and drinks ready?” She said and you nodded wildly and they both laughed. You love helping out when you can. She walked over and got the glasses and handed them to you and they watched you carefully take them over to the table. Kimber got the milk and orange juice out as Kelly took the last of the pancakes and the bacon off and walked them over to the table. Everyone sat down and served themselves. 
“What do you girls have planned today?” Kelly asked and Kimber answered since your mouth was full.
“If it is warm enough, we’ll go play in the backyard and then maybe go out for lunch. Then just play it by ear.” She said and you nodded excitedly. 
“That sounds fun.” He said 
“It is, Daddy!” You said and he smiled. Breakfast was finished quickly and dishes were put in the dishwasher and Kelly had disappeared to grab his duffle and walked out and just stood in the doorway watching you and Kimber have the time of your life in the living room. You were the first one to notice him “Daddy!” You yelled out and quickly ran up to him and jumped into his arms and hugged you tightly. Kimber walked over and then took you from his arms.
“It’s time for daddy to leave. You be good for Kimber and do what she says.” He said and you nodded.
“I promise, Daddy.” You said and he smiled and leaned over to kiss your head and then pulled away and looked at Kimber.
“Don’t hesitate to call if something happens or you need me. If you can’t get ahold of me, you can call Jay and he’ll know how to get ahold of me.” Kelly said and she nodded.
“Don’t worry. I’ll call you if something happens and I also have Will if something medical comes up but I will let you know.” She said and he smiled and nodded. 
“I know you will. I trust you.” He said and then looked back at you. “Daddy loves you.” He said to you and kissed your head again.
“I love you too, Daddy.” You said and he smiled and then grabbed his keys by the front door and was out the door and heading into work.
“Alright, Little One. What do you want to do first?” She asked, looking at you. 
“Blanket fort!” You said excitedly and she laughed.
“You got it!” She said back. She sat you down and the both of you set out to find the materials you needed.
20 minutes later and the fort was ready to be used. Your imagination ran wild and Kimber was all for it. Movies were watched and crafts were made in that fort. During the 5th movie you had fallen asleep snuggled up against Kimber and she pulled out her phone and read through some college stuff she needed to read and every now and then checked in on you. She figured she would let you sleep for an hour and then have you get up and get your teeth brushed and dressed then you would go out for lunch and a walk in the park maybe stop in and see your dad. Then you both would come home and play some in the backyard.
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Kelly was exhausted since he had gotten to work. It was nonstop calls; he hadn't even had a break to sit down and check on you and Kimber. Everyone had just gotten back and quickly got the trucks and ambulance done and then they were going to try and have a moment of peace. While everyone was preoccupied, he stepped away and pulled out his phone. He had a few new messages from Kimber and they were pictures of you smiling and goofing around, he smiled and saved them on his phone. One particular one, you were playing with bubbles and she captured the image through the bubble and you were smiling and just being yourself, he set it as his background on his phone when he unlocked it.
He was about to call and ask how you two were doing when he heard a familiar voice “Sylvie!” You yelled out and he smiled.
“Hey, Y/N. Looking for your dad?” She asked 
“Uh huh.” You said and he walked out into the garage and when you spotted him you ran straight to him and jumped into his arms. “Daddy!” You shouted and he laughed and hugged you gently but tightly back. 
“Hey, Sweetheart. I'm surprised to see you.” He said and you just hugged him tighter and everyone smiled glad to see him happy but continued on with working so you could have some time with him.
“She really wanted to see her daddy and I told her we could. It was on the way home from lunch and the park.” Kimber said he smiled and nodded and then sat you down.
“Did you have fun?” He asked
“Yes! We saw a bunch of dogs at the park and most of them were friendly and I got to pet them.” You said with so much brightness in your eyes. He smiled loving that look.
“That sounds like fun. Did you ask permission first?” He asked and you nodded.
“Of course, Daddy.” You said and he smiled. You and Kimber stayed there for a few minutes until it was time to go home and start getting your school work done. “Bye, Daddy. I love you.” You said and he smiled. He hugged and kissed the side of your head.
“I love you too. Be safe.” He said and you nodded and then he and Kimber said their goodbyes and he watched you walk out of the station almost skipping and he could tell you were laughing and smiling and that made him smile. 
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You made it back home safely and Kimber let you dad know. She put her phone away and then turned to you “Ok, I want you to do your homework and then we can go outside and play.” She said in a serious tone and you nodded.
“Ok.” You said and then you went and got your backpack and started your work. While you were working, she was working on some of her college work, every now and then you would ask her for help and she helped you. You got what you needed done quickly and then you both were heading outside. Kimber had brought her school work outside so she could work and watch you at the same time. 
Every now and then you would come over and ask her to play and she did and then when you were done, she went back to work. Sometimes she would look up and smile at you having fun. “Y/N, come inside with me to get something to drink.” She said and you looked up from your position in the sand box and got up and headed inside with her. “Do you want a snack?” She asked and you nodded your head.
“Do we have any grapes and apples?” You asked and she smiled and nodded.
“Why yes, we do! I want you to drink something you’ve been running around a lot, don't want you dehydrated.” She said and you nodded and drank some water and ate something and then she brought the rest out with you both. You resumed your position back into the sandbox not seeing that it had sunken in. You were too busy playing to notice that you were starting to sink into the ground. You continued on playing and then you felt a huge drop and that freaked you out.
“Kimber.” You said scared and she looked up and her eyes bugged out.
“Hold on, Sweetie. I’m coming.” She said and hurried over as the chair tipped backwards. 
“I’m scared. I want daddy.” You said beginning to panic.
“It’s ok Y/N/N. We’re going to get you out.” She said and she motioned you to grab her hands and you did but when she began to pull you yelped out in pain and she stopped and you slipped in further and that made you panic and panicking only made you sink deeper. “Don’t panic. It’ll only make it worse. I’m gonna call 911. Ok?” She asked and you nodded your head.
“911 what’s your emergency?” The 911 operator asked.
“Hi, my name is Kimber Halstead and I’m babysitting Y/N Severide at 251 Spiral Lane and she is stuck in a sandbox.” Kimber said
“How old is Y/N?” They asked
“She’s 6. I tried to pull her out but she just sank further down. She then began panicking and sank further.” She said 
“It sounds like she is in a sinkhole. Keep her calm and don’t make her panic, it’ll just make her sink further.” They said
“Kimber, I can’t breathe.” You said 
“Did she just say she can’t breathe?” They asked
“Yes.” Kimber said
“Ok, keep her calm and I have dispatched the nearest first responders.” They said
“Thank you.” Kimber said and turned to look at you.
“Did you hear that? Daddy is coming to the rescue.” Kimber said, trying to keep you calm.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Kelly, Otis, Stella, Sylvie, Gabby, and Herrmann had all sat down to relax and watch some TV and grab something to eat when the bell went off and they groaned but then Kelly turned rigid.
“Engine 51, Truck 81, Rescue Squad 3, Ambulance 61.  6 year old female stuck in a sinkhole, having trouble breathing. Location 251 Spiral Lane.” 
Everyone looked over at Kelly and they instantly knew who it was and they were quick to grab their gear and get into their vehicles and rush over there. Kelly was silent as he got in “Kelly.” Joe began but Kelly wasn’t hearing him; he was worried about his child.
“She’s going to be ok. We’re 2 minutes out.” Capp said but that didn’t make him feel any better. 
True to Capp’s word they arrived at Kelly’s house and he was the first one out. Everyone quickly got their stuff and they followed him through the back gate knowing this path all too well. He left the gate wide open and when he saw you, he wanted to grab you and pull you out and hold you but he needed to stay calm for you. He was quick to come over and when you saw him you cried out to him. “Daddy!” You yelled out and you struggled to reach him but you sank further.
“No, Baby. It’s ok. I’m here.” He said and knelt down and took in his surroundings. He looked at Kimber “What happened?” He asked.
“She was perfectly fine playing in it earlier and then I had her come in and eat and drink something. Then we came back out and she resumed her playing and then she said my name and I looked up from doing some school work and she was sinking.” She said and he nodded, he wasn't mad.
“Daddy, I can’t breathe.” You said and he turned his attention back to you and then to Gabby who was bringing over oxygen. 
“Gabby is going to be something over your nose and mouth to help.” He said and you nodded and looked at Gabby and she smiled.
“Hi, Y/N/N.” She said 
“Hi.” You wheezed out. 
“I’m just gonna put this over your nose and mouth.” She said and you nodded and she did so and air rushed into you.
“Ok, Severide hold her up and watch her. Capp and Cruz start digging. Gabby and Sylvie monitor her vitals. Everyone else start helping out.” Boden said and everyone nodded and got to work. As they were working something happened and you started to slip in further.
“Daddy?” You wheezed out and he soothed you.
“It’s ok, Sweetheart. You’ll be out soon.” He said and you nodded but you started to become light headed.
“I don’t feel good.” You said and then about that time your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you passed out. 
“Woah. Ok. Can we go faster?” Sylvie asked and everyone started working faster. 16 minutes later they got you out and onto the stretcher and quickly loaded into the Ambulance as Kelly and Kimber followed. 
“Kelly, I’m so sorry.” Kimber said and he shook his head.
“No need to apologize. Accidents happen.” He said and she nodded, still feeling guilty. 
“I’m going to meet you up there.” She said and he nodded and then got into the back of the ambulance and nobody argued because you were his kid. They were quick to get going to Med. Kelly heard Sylvie and Gabby talking but he tuned them out and wasn’t listening to him too concerned about you. 
They made it to Med in no time and they were quick to get you out and into the ER. Will was the one that was going to be taking care of you. “How long has she been out?” He asked.
“Around 20 minutes now.” Kelly answered and he nodded and helped transfer you to a bed. Will started trying to arouse you but nothing was working. He took a listen to you and heard some crackling in your lungs and grew concerned.
“I want to admit it. Get her some x-rays and get a line started on her.” Will said and Kelly nodded and that is what they did. With you being unconscious and that concerned everyone. X-rays were taken and it turned out that you had broken some ribs from being stuck in the sand and that caused enough pressure to crack some ribs. When they moved you into the room Will looked over at Kelly “I want to monitor until she wakes up and if she does let me know.” He said an IV line had already been started. Will left the room and that just left Kelly alone with you. He sat there looking at you and then he looked down at his phone and saw his lock screen, it was you and him, he was holding you and you had been looking back over his shoulder smiling at the camera when you were 4 and Stella had taken the picture, she smiled at it. He texted everyone an update and they had come in and saw him but they needed back to work. Kimber came and stayed the longest but Kelly sent her home and promised her an update and because she was so shaken up that she needed rest. Will was in and out checking on you but nothing had changed. 
It was beginning into the night and he had drifted off to sleep still in uniform. He may have been asleep for about 20 minutes until he heard rustling around and he slowly woke to find you awake and groaning in pain. “Daddy?” You asked groggily and he was quick to get up.
“Sweetheart.” He said and leaned over you “I’m gonna get Will. Ok?” He asked and you nodded and he did just that and Will had come in. 
“Hey there, Mini Kelly.” He said and that made everyone smile. Usually, Will was the only one to call you that. “How are you feeling?” He asked.
“Hurts to breathe.” You said and he nodded.
“That’s understandable. You broke some ribs.” He said and you nodded and then turned to address you and your father “I want to keep her overnight just for observation since she was unconscious.” He said and Kelly nodded. You tuned them out since they were using words you didn’t understand and then Will was smiling at you “I’ll see you later on.” He said and you smiled at him.
“Bye, Uncle Will.” You said and he chuckled and left. “Daddy?” You asked and he looked at you.
“Hmmm?” He asked
“Do we have to get rid of the sandbox?” You asked and he smiled sadly.
“Yea we do, Sweetheart.” He said and you nodded.
“Ok. Love you.” You said and he smiled and then you yawned.
“I love you too. Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He said as he leaned over and kissed your forehead and you fell back to sleep. He stayed up for the rest of the night and updated everyone. He vowed to himself that the next day he had off he was going to take out that sandbox and fill that hole. He was going to protect you no matter what. Afterall you were his daughter, his life, and his pride of joy. 
You were just glad that your daddy came to your rescue.
Tag list:
@kmc1989
@els-marvelvsp
@atarmychick007
@nyx2021
@grandstrangerphantom
@angenu01-blog
@talesofreading
@docockschest
266 notes · View notes
tin-wufborf · 18 days
Text
Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 17)
Hello, and welcome back to Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics! Apologies again for the huge delay. I've had a busy last couple of weeks, but also...well, I posted about this earlier, but I hath been consumed by the beast that is Deadpool & Wolverine and have fallen back into my Wolverine obsession. I won't go on too much about that here, because that's not what you're here for, but I am letting you all know that it is definitely the most to blame for why this is so late lol.
But enough about that! Back to the real reason I have these little openers: thank you all so much for your support of this series. It's crazy to me that anyone at all cares about what I've read and liked, but that so many of you have taken an interest and even shared these lists is truly mind-blowing. So, truly, thank you all so much.
I hope you're all having as good a day as you can, if not a great one.
Smoochies and squeezies!
List and links to previous parts below the cut.
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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17
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Broken Things (It's Complicated) by PalenDrome (nerherderette) (G | 1/1 | 3,880)
It's been fifteen years, and Derek still has feelings about that Jeep.
[excerpt] “Stiles loved that Jeep,” the Sheriff says with a wistful smile. “It was Claudia’s. When he left it behind…” He turns his gaze elsewhere, at some distant spot beyond Derek’s shoulder.
Derek feels a claw rip through the fragile paper. He’s not sure if the Sheriff changed his mind about allowing Derek to take the Jeep. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he did.
“I’m doing my best. And I know; I want to get it up and running.” Derek wonders whether the Sheriff thinks he’s fixing it up for resale, or souping it up for an off-road joyride. Both possibilities leave him with an icy anger in his gut.
The Sheriff must understand what he feels, because his face softens. “What I meant is that Stiles loved that Jeep. He put whatever little savings he had into keeping that thing running. So, if he left it behind…” He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “Sometimes, things are too broken to be fixed.”
Derek nods slowly. He understands. But he also knows it’s not just that things break down. It's that sometimes, people give up on them, too.
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Sure of You by inhystereks (G | 1/1 | 4,129)
The Sheriff knew Stiles had found his not-so-little surprise when he went completely silent.
“Dad?” he called.
“Yeah, son?” John called back.
“Why is there a werewolf in the living room?”
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Shine Bright Like a Unicorn by HappyJuicyfruit (G | 1/1 | 5,392)
Stiles never stopped seeing his imaginary friend, Benji the unicorn, he just stopped talking about her.
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how to court a werewolf by graveltotempo (G | 1/1 | 6,592)
Stiles accidentally begins a courtship with Derek. Wary at first, the werewolf accepts, and Stiles ticks off all the boxes of a traditional Hale werewolf courting - oblivious to the whole thing.
Because of course he is.
Peter thinks the entire thing is hilarious.
Cora thinks that they deserve each other.
(spoiler alert: they do)
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Stiles' Annual Halloween Prank by LuneFaitLaFolie (T | 1/1 | 6,736)
Working the graveyard shift on Halloween night, John spends most of his time waiting for the phone call that Stiles and Scott have been caught attempting their annual Halloween prank.
He isn't expecting that call to come in the form of a neighbour seeing a group of people covered in blood and dressed as werewolves potentially breaking into his house. Checking up on it himself, he really isn't prepared for the absolute mess unfolding in his kitchen.
Maybe those traumatised teenagers caught smoking weed in the preserve knew what they were talking about when freaking out over werewolves and witches and a psycho with a bat...
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Special Delivery (subway edition) by FiannlyPhoebe (NR | 1/1 | 7,630)
“You’re what?” Stiles yells.
Derek jerks the phone away from his ear and waits a few beats before putting it back. “I’m adopting the baby I found on the subway last month,” he repeats.
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Oh, Alpha of Mine by whentheywrite (M | 1/1 | 9,806)
When the alpha came for him, it was at the library. But Stiles had never wanted the bite.
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A Heart That's Overgrown by Justagirlwithapen (E | 5/5 | 14,852)
When Stiles is five, he meets Derek Hale. When Stiles is seven an itch begins in his throat, and when he’s ten he can no longer ignore it. When Stiles is 11 and a half, he coughs his first petals. When he’s 12, Derek Hale leaves town and when he’s 13 the petals stop and the itch lessens. But at 16, the shit hits the fan. At 16, Derek comes home.
The disease is progressing at a rapid rate, Derek is focused on revenge and his betas, and Stiles can barely admit his feelings to himself let alone anyone else. But flowers are crawling up his throat, and something’s gotta give.
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One More Again by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere (NR | 16/16 | 22,238)
When a strange man appears in the Hale Pack territory with an unusual proposition for Stiles and Lydia, Stiles is unable to resist going back in time to stop the Hale House fire.
Even after a few bumps in the road, Stiles finds himself in the past with one nearly-insurmountable goal - getting Talia Hale and the rest of her family to trust him with their lives.
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New Family series by DarkJediQueen (3 works | T-E | 26,986)
1. Life with the Hales (T | 1/1 | 9,681) Stiles finds a family that likes him for him. No change needed. He latches on with both hands and his heart. 2. Life with Derek and Cora (M | 1/1 | 9,240) Derek is more than happy to have Cora and Stiles with him in San Francisco. With them close again, he can start his courtship of Stiles. 3. Life in the Shop (E | 1/1 | 8,065) Stiles is back in Beacon Hills, living full time and opening up his new shop.
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Morning Light by heartsdesire456 (T | 1/1 | 27,272)
After two years as a deputy for the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department, not to mention a lifetime of being the kid of an officer of the law, Stiles had seen some things in his time. Some weird shit happened in Beacon Hills, really. However, no amount of animals mauled in the woods, people going missing, psychotic teenagers going on killing sprees with their trained pet mountain lions (or so the official report stated; Stiles didn’t trust his dad’s account of that night back when he was in high school) could prepare Stiles for the sheer ‘what the hell?!’-ness of waking up at six in the morning for his shift, pouring himself a cup of coffee, and then noticing that outside the back window there was a little girl playing in his flower beds.
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Here We Are Again series by crossroadswrite (2 works | G-T | 27,528)
Basically I listened to Taylor Swift's All Too Well, got feels and this happened.
1. You Remember It All; When I Loved You So (T | 1/1 | 21,413) Derek takes a step forward and then stops. Stiles can see the way his muscles tense and tremble like he’s holding himself back by a hair. “What-“ his voice breaks, he gets a little choked off and has to drop his eyes. It’s been one year. He doesn’t think he can look at him after one year. “What are you doing here?” he mumbles into the floor, knows that Derek will hear him. “I-“ 2. I Can Picture It After All These Days (G | 1/1 | 6,115) Derek’s not nervous. He’s done this a thousand times. He just has to knock on the door, greet Stiles and somehow try to convince him to take his sorry ass back so they can date and live happily ever after. Derek shifts a little on the porch, shaking out his arm like he’s loosening his muscles for a fight. He can do this. He can totally do this.
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don't know what i'm supposed to do (haunted by the ghost of you) by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli) (T | 1/1 | 30,926)
Stiles sees dead people. Yep. Seriously.
(He’s got this. He’s totally got this. So what if one of them is Derek’s mom?)
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Hold The Day by Daisyapples (NR | 1/1 | 38,405)
Derek froze, fear and anger battling inside of him.
“Personally, I’m very protective of the things I love,” Argent continued. “But that’s something I learned from my family. And you don’t have much of that these days. Do you?”
“Wow, man.” Stiles suddenly rounded the petrol pumps and put himself between Argent and Derek. “Low blow.”
It was almost amusing to see how put out Argent was; he shifted on his feet, hands clenched into fists as if he wanted to hit Stiles. Derek wanted to grab the boy and put him behind him but he also liked having a shield between him and the hunter.
“You know who this is, right?” Stiles gestured wildly, almost hitting both himself and the Camaro. “Little orphan Annie here lost almost his whole family in a house fire. You wanna learn a bit of tact?”
Derek was almost amused at the boy who had just called him little orphan Annie preaching tact.
Almost.
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Timing is Everything series by ChloeWeird (ChloeBYoung) (5 works | T-M | 63,159)
Starts off as accidental baby acquisition, then morphs into full-fledged domestic fluff with bonus angst.
Series is complete, but there might be a couple more little ficlets in me, just timestamps on the series.
1. Perfect Timing (T | 3/3 | 9,613) Nothing had tried to kill them for three whole years. His dad stopped updating the "Supernatural Accident Free for X days" counter. The pack was stable. The timing was perfect and they could totally do this. Stiles just had to convince Derek. Somehow, taking their relationship to the next level doesn't go as planned. 2. Comes With Time (M | 7/7 | 22,787) Four months ago, Stiles and Derek rescued a terrified young werewolf from an animal shelter, and now, they call him their son. But loving him may not be enough to help him heal from the trauma of months in captivity. 3. Borrowed Time (T | 1/1 | 3,014) Stiles gets a harsh reminder that their son wasn’t always theirs...and that Teddy’s family was never located. 4. That Time Again (M | 6/6 | 11,713) Stiles and Derek decide that they want to add to their family. But life doesn’t always work out the way they want it to. 5. Time Outs (T | 8/8 | 16,032) 1k-2k ficlets set in the "Timing is Everything" Universe. May be updated if I get inspired, but I'll mark it complete for now.
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The Moon's Gonna Follow Me Home by turningterrific (E | 2/2 | 82,866)
Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.
He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.
Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.
He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.
And then he leaves.
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southpaw series by elisela (13 works | G-E | 83,390)
Hello, 'tis I, Tin. Once again, Tumblr is throwing a hissy fit about me including all of the series summaries for the individual parts of this series. Usually when this happens, I give you my own little synopsis of the series in effort to entice you, but I'm going to do it a little different this time. Instead, I offer you the summary for the main story that I think is the perfect enticement to the series as a whole--
From part 2 of this series, "ahead of the count":
“Yankee fan,” Derek says, laughing when Stiles makes a disgusted face. “The Bronx Bombers, Stiles, you can’t be a New Yorker and—” “Stop talking right now,” Stiles sighs, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I still want to kiss you after that,” he says, pulling Derek in by his coat. “This is making me rethink everything." “I’ll never watch them again,” Derek promises, and Stiles laughs against his mouth.
Or: Stiles is a starting pitcher for the NY Mets when he meets and falls in love with Derek. Derek doesn’t know.
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Where the Real Beasts Are by kaistrex (weishen) (E | 12/12 | 109,100)
Crown Prince Stiles is gifted a direwolf on his eighteenth birthday by King Gerard I of Venatia. The only instruction? Never remove the collar.
Stiles never has been one to do as he’s told.
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Shut Up and Help Us series by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere (2 works | NR | 144,162)
1. Of Course It's Fairies (NR | 54/54 | 100,257) While still suffering from the after effects of the Nogitsune, Stiles and the pack stumble upon and save a trapped fairy. The boy's parents, not wanting to be in the pack’s debt, offer each member of the pack who assisted in the rescue, the opportunity to bring a loved one back from the dead. Having been blissfully reunited with several of their once-lost friends and family members, everyone must work together to figure out how to function as a new pack, and how to defeat a new incoming threat. [I did not include the Fae & Fairies tag because after the first three chapters or so, they do not really play a large part in the fic, so I didn't want to mislead anyone!] 2. Survival Is A Habit (NR | 31/31 | 43,905) Nearly a year after the Hale pack defeated their first real threat, Talia gets a call inviting them to attend the Triennial Pack Convention. They gladly accept, hoping to use the TPC as one last celebration before the younger members go off to college. But when a series of events puts the pack at risk, they find themselves in desperate need of allies.
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What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm (E | 4/4 | 118,749)
There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.
There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.
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60 notes · View notes
copajay · 6 months
Text
how to write a love song
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
masterlist
taro has been heavy on my mind for the last 24 hours and i’ve always wanted to write a fake dating fic so here we are
summary: you have been a solo idol under SM for years now. unfortunately, you’ve seen a decline in your popularity in the last year. sm’s newest boy group, riize, on the other hand, is blowing up in korea and overseas. in an attempt to generate buzz around your upcoming album, your company sets you up in a PR relationship with riize’s shotaro. (not proofread)
date: 04/07/24
scenario themes: fake dating, idol!au, lowkey grumpy x sunshine lmao
idol: osaki shotaro of riize
concept: fluff, angst-ish
warnings: swearing
word count: 5.3k
Tumblr media
"fucking hell." you curse to yourself, alone in your private studio. you were looking at the sales for your last mini album. this was the lowest number you've seen since your debut. flopping onto a chair, you opened up youtube to check your streams, then spotify, then naver, and so on and so forth.
you were beginning to become obsessive, looking to numbers for validation. you put your phone down, sighing. looking up at the wall in front of you, you were greeted with your debut poster.
you were so young, so passionate. you didn't care about streams or sales, you just wanted to share your art with the world. feeling a bit ungrateful, you began to gaslight yourself into feeling better: it's not like the figures were that low, and many artists would kill to have half of what you're complaining about.
it didn't work. you felt even more like shit. somewhere along the way you fell in love with stardom. you became used to high-end brand endorsements, sold-out stadiums, and paparazzi everywhere you go. life has changed a lot for you in the last year.
you got so caught up in everything that you haven't been able to produce as much music. and if you're being honest, the only music you have put out hasn't exactly been your best work.
you initially stood out since you were an idol who didn't dance or put on flashy performances but instead wrote and composed captivating songs with meaningful lyrics. this attracted the attention of a nation, and later on, you developed a global fanbase. a fanbase that is currently fighting for their lives to defend your shitty mini-album.
somewhere along the way, you lost your spark. your lyrics which used to be about raw emotion and life experiences now seemed out of touch and cliche. your instrumentals had so much care poured into them, with most of them containing your own playing of the guitar, piano, drums, and more. now, they were created electronically for the most part by multiple big-shot producers.
you followed the formula for success, so why weren't you reaping the benefits?
your phone screen lit up, notifying you of an email sent by your manager:
RE: Staff Meeting
Y/N,
The numbers aren't looking too good. We need another drop, and soon. We’re having a meeting and you can show us what you came up with so far. We brought in the PR team and they're going to share some ideas with us. The meeting's at 6, don't be late.
you glanced over at the clock. it was 4:44 p.m., which means you still have an hour and 16 minutes to come up with something to show your team.
no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't come up with anything. it used to come so easy to you. your love songs in particular were always so easy to write, and guaranteed hits at that.
unfortunately for you, being in love is nearly impossible when you're a full-time idol. between hectic schedules and invasive fans, you can't find the time or place to catch feelings for someone.
before you knew it, it was 5:50 and all you had done was mope about how hard it is to make music. packing your belongings, you headed out of the studio and made your way to the SM company building.
once seated at the meeting, you were greeted by your manager and the PR professionals he invited. "so, y/n. we're looking forward to hearing about any progress you might have made for the album." your manager encouraged, smiling at you.
"i... don't have anything," you admitted. the room was dead silent and you were holding yourself back from cringing at your own words. "I was hoping we could maybe just look at a couple of demos?"
"y/n, that's what we did last time, and it clearly isn't appealing to the fans. they want your music. we need the finished album from you by next month." your manager stressed.
"i know, i know. i'm working on it." you muttered. clearing his throat, your manager looked to the PR team, "since there's no new music for us to listen to, i guess you guys can take it from here."
"right, thank you." an unnamed woman in glasses began, "we were thinking of creating a fabricated relationship between miss l/n and another idol here at SM. his group is having a comeback around the same time you are."
you were about to protest before she cut you off, "the relationship doesn't have to go on for long, just until you release new music. it'll generate buzz and people will be more likely to tune in if they think your songs are about him. just consider it." she pleaded.
"who is it?" you questioned, still apprehensive. "shotaro from riize. the group is still recovering after a member of theirs has gone on hiatus following a scandal free seunghan until it's backwards. the two of you are close in age and he's been an idol for a few years now so he's perfect." she persuaded. you saw your manager nod in agreement in the corner of your eye.
"isn't dating as an idol a scandal in itself?" you argued. "yes, but you would generate more good exposure than bad. fans online have been talking about how good of a couple you would make for a while now." your manager butted in.
great. so you're not only going to get death threats from delusional fans but also affirm crazed shippers' beliefs. as badly as you wanted out, you really did need more attention on you as you were preparing to come back. besides, any publicity is good publicity, right?
"fine." you agreed begrudgingly. "wonderful! shotaro has also agreed, we'll have another meeting tomorrow at 10 a.m. with the two of you to go over everything." the lady exclaimed, clasping her hands together excitedly.
smiling politely, you excused yourself and left the room. your manager rushed after you, stopping you from leaving the building. "y/n, listen. I know this is all probably really uncomfortable, but I think it'll be good for you." he insisted.
good for streams, maybe. "i'll be fine. it's only a month, right?" you smiled. "right." he affirmed, patting you on the back before walking in the opposite direction.
once he was out of sight your smile immediately dropped. you made your way out the doors of the building preparing yourself for the lonely commute home.
despite being surrounded by fans and paparazzi constantly, you felt pretty lonely most of your days. you rarely had time to see your friends and family, and you didn't have any group members to share the burden of loneliness with.
making your way to the parking lot, you bumped into an energetic figure, causing your keys to drop. the two of you bent down at the same time and your heads collided. stepping back, you looked up at the stranger that had just made your already shit day even shittier.
he picked up your keys first before standing straight and looking back at you. laughing, he handed them over to you, apologizing for the inconvenience.
to your surprise, it was shotaro. the man you had to act like you were in love starting tomorrow. he had incredibly soft features and the brownest, biggest eyes that you could get lost in forever.
"hey, I recognize you!" he chirped, "I was told you would be at the meeting tomorrow for..." he trailed off, the air between you suddenly awkward.
"yeah." you added dryly. "well it was nice meeting you." you pushed past him. "nice meeting you as well!" he called out, enthusiastically waving.
he's so sweet it's sickening.
maybe you're being a bit of a bitch, but your life feels like it's falling apart. stepping into your car, you took a moment to breathe before starting it and heading home.
the next morning, you wanted nothing more than to rot in bed, but your annoyingly loud alarm reminded you of your impending meeting with shotaro. you didn't see the harm in getting a few more minutes of beauty sleep so you hit the snooze button and drifted back off.
unfortunately, those few minutes turned into an hour, and the next thing you know, you had twenty minutes until your meeting. panicking, you rush to wash your face and get dressed, sprinting down the stairs of your apartment.
once you're seated in the car, you're greeted with a blaring sign: empty tank. just your luck. you have under 10 minutes to get to the SM building and it's a twenty-minute walk from your place.
you checked the bus schedules frantically but none of them seemed to come in time. mentally cursing yourself, you began running in the direction of the company building.
there was no way you were going to make it in time. but this was better than nothing. after about 5 minutes of sprinting like your life depended on it, you saw a familiar face in a car waiting at a stoplight: shotaro.
you don't know how you managed to bump into him yet again but you couldn't really afford to care at this moment. knocking on the window lightly, you saw him look at you shocked.
he rolled down his window, "are you okay?" he asked, slightly freaked out. "i'm so sorry i promise i'll explain but could you please let me in because the light is about to turn green." you begged.
he stared at you shocked for a few seconds before you practically yelled at him to let you in. unlocking the doors, he watched you jump in. he definitely thought you were crazy.
and you couldn't blame him either. looking in the window, you saw your reflection for the first time since you left home: sweat beading on your forehead from running and your hair frizzy and half out of your bun.
while putting together your appearance as best as you could, he coughed loudly, "you said you were going to explain...?" he cautioned.
"right. I slept through my alarm, my car ran out of gas, and I was planning on booking it for the interview since there were no buses available either. oh, and sorry again for scaring you." you rattled on.
you expected him to react like most people if put in this situation: slightly annoyed but accepting of the situation.
he simply laughed. "well then I'm glad you ran into me!" he cheered with a genuine smile on his face. what the hell was his problem?
you knew idols would put on cheery, cute personas for the camera, but you never met someone so honestly enthusiastic. you would be lying if you said it wasn't refreshing, but it felt too good to be true.
you arrived at the building within a matter of minutes. "thank you, once again." you turned to shotaro once the two of you reached the elevator. "no worries." he smiled.
you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t extremely handsome, and his kind demeanor made him even more attractive.
you caught yourself staring at him intensely, suddenly feeling nervous in the cramped elevator alone with him.
he kept trying to make conversation but you were completely zoned out, only being able to focus on how good he looked in his oversized black sweater.
your eyes kept nervously flitting between him and the elevator door, and you were beginning to sweat. has he always been this hot?
after what felt like an eternity, the elevator door opened and you practically sprinted out, making a beeline for the conference room. never have you been more relieved to see a room full of PR professionals.
you and shotaro sat down a safe distance away from each other. you’re not sure what overcame you in the elevator.
you haven’t had any romance in your life for so long that every little thing gets you flustered, including being alone in a small space with a good looking man.
“thank you both for coming today.” the same woman from yesterday greeted. “if you don’t mind, we’d like to walk you through the month-long plan of your ‘relationship’” she shared, using quotation marks.
“firstly, we want the two of you to be spotted out together. going to cafe’s, the movies, even just for a walk. hold hands, hug, kiss if you feel like it.” you couldn’t help but look at shotaro for the last bit and you were shocked to see he was already looking at you.
“we’ll call on paparazzi and companies like dispatch to ‘catch you in the act’ and post your photos online for people to catch on.” she continued, nodding at a man next to her.
“then we’re going to make an official announcement on behalf of the company that you two are officially dating. you know, ‘the pair are getting to know each other and we would appreciate your privacy bla bla bla’” the man said, far less professionally.
“right. you two will continue your outings for another week or so after and then you come back, and we will make a statement on behalf of the company that you have broken up to focus on your schedules. how does that sound?” the lady wrapped up.
“sounds good to me.” shotaro replied coolly. “yeah, um, sounds good.” you sputtered, a bit overwhelmed.
suddenly, you heard a loud ping on the woman’s phone. she looked down and looked up again between you and shotaro, “well, it looks like you two have already set the plan into motion.” she chuckled.
looking closer at her phone, you saw an online article showing pictures from just an hour ago of you in shotaro’s car titled “y/n and shotaro: potential lovebirds?”
what the hell? how did those photos get out so fast… and when were they even taken?
although you were growing increasingly anxious about your lack of privacy, you had to admit the PR team knew what they were talking about, people were going insane over the article.
“since you’ve already been spotted together today, you might as well go on a ‘date’ later in the afternoon to seal the deal.” an older man opposite you added in air quotes.
you and shotaro simply nodded in agreement and before you knew it, the meeting was coming to a close.
grabbing your bag, you prepared to speed-walk out of the room and avoid shotaro until your inevitable ‘date’ but he seemed to have other plans.
“wait up, y/n!” he hollered, catching up to you. “i know we’re kind of being forced to hang out, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company!” he began, “what’s your favorite coffee shop? mine’s-”
“look i appreciate you trying to make light of the situation, but this is just a marketing strategy, nothing more and nothing less.” you cut him off, “let’s just go to the bakery across the street, make lovey dovey eyes at each other, and go our separate ways, yeah?”
his smile faded a bit which made you feel guilty, but he recovered quickly and nodded, following you out the company building.
once you arrived at the bakery, you tried to seem as interested as possible in whatever shotaro was talking about, but your brain was still foggy from the hectic morning you had.
“anyways, what about you?” the singer excitedly asked, “…what about me?” you repeated through gritted teeth, forcing a smile in case any cameras were on you.
“i was asking if you started preparing for your new album.” he smiled. “oh. um, yeah.” you shrugged, avoiding eye contact.
“you know i’m a big fan of your music,” shotaro started, “i loved your debut album, i listen to at least one song from it every day.” he shared shyly.
well great. now you felt even more bad for being so unnecessarily rude to him. softening your demeanor, you replied with “thanks… i really liked ‘get a guitar’, too.”
his eyes lit up upon you mentioning his track, which you took as a sign to continue, “but i can never get the dance quite right.” you added, grinning.
“i can always teach you!” he beamed.
“that would be nice-”
“oh my GOD, is that shotaro?” a stranger gasped, causing both your and shotaro’s heads to snap in opposite directions.
even though you were technically trying to get caught, old idol habits die hard. dating scandals are every idol’s biggest fear: an entire dedicated fanbase turning on you just for experiencing romance? true nightmare fuel.
“and i think that’s y/n with him! why are they here together?” another stranger spoke up. you and shotaro swiftly picked up your belongings and left, worried you’d attract more attention.
“i’ll-um-see you, bye.” you mumbled with your head down as shotaro gave you a small thumbs up underneath the table.
the two of you set off in different directions and you began dreading the long walk home. you were wearing a mask and a beanie, which meant your chances of getting recognized were pretty low, but they definitely weren’t zero.
however, you loved walking through seoul, especially this time of year. the weather was nice, and the streets were bustling. you used to love brainstorming song lyrics and melodies during walks.
deciding to take advantage of your situation, you racked your brain for any potential lyrics.
nothing.
how could you have lost all your creativity? did your songwriting talent just disappear? how would you get it back?
doubts filled your mind as you realized you were already halfway home and failed to come up with a single verse.
maybe you were lacking inspiration. your life was filled with romantic endeavors prior to your debut, which filled your mind with several ideas for new songs.
but you seemed to have forgotten all of them, and as cheesy as it sounds, you might have forgotten how it feels to be in love as well.
nearing your apartment, you felt a vibration in your pocket. taking out your phone, you opened up an email from your manager:
Re: Dating News
Hello Y/N,
Seems like your bakery date is already going viral on SNS. A pair of fans spotted you two and uploaded a photo of you sitting at a table together. Keep up the good work.
[1 Attachment]
clicking on the attachment, you saw a screenshot of a tweet exclaiming ‘RIIZE SHOTARO AND Y/N L/N ON A DATE???’ with a picture of the two of you smiling and sitting across from each other at a table.
it freaked you out how happy the two of you looked in the photo, almost like a real couple.
shutting off your phone, you couldn’t help but smile as you entered your apartment, maybe shotaro was starting to grow on you.
in the next few weeks, you and shotaro would go on several public outings, getting spotted almost immediately.
before you knew it the two of you were the hottest topic in k-pop, headlining several media outlet articles and trending on social media.
you would periodically receive correspondence from your manager and PR team praising you for how well you were pulling the stunt off.
although you wouldn’t admit it, you were really starting to enjoy shotaro’s company as well. the two of you began texting until late hours at night and planning ‘dates’ without instruction from your team.
you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to feel a bit attached to him but you reminded yourself that this was simply a work thing. besides, it’s not like he’s interested anyway… right?
you couldn’t read shotaro at all. he always had a sweet smile plastered on his face and seemed excited about everything and anything.
weirdly, you felt your writing ability start to come back slowly as well.. but it obviously has nothing to do with shotaro!
it’s just a coincidence that you draw on your memories of him to come up with lyrics; that you describe his mannerisms to a T in your potential choruses and scribble about how he makes you feel in your notebook on your off-days.
yup! definitely just a coincidence.
“y’know i used to love these growing up,” shotaro shared as the two of you stood at a street food stall indulging in dango.
“you must miss japan a lot, huh?” you asked, staring at the side of his face. his expression faltered slightly.
“of course i do, but i’m glad i chased after my dreams. it sounds cliché but it paid off. i get to do what i love, even if i’m hundreds of miles away from home.” he replied softly.
you don’t know what it was, but in that moment you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. you stared at his lips for a few moments before he caught on.
“do i have something on my face..?” he questioned, raising a finger to wipe his mouth.
you leaned in, centimeters away from touching your lips with his when he stepped back.
shit. way to go, y/n.
“sorry, i just- i don’t think we should…” he stammered,
“no, i’m sorry. i don’t know what came over me. we-i should go.” you said awkwardly, biting your lip.
you headed off before he could reply, mentally cursing at the world and wanting to crawl into a hole and die.
how could you let your guard down like that and embarrass yourself?
that night, you didn’t receive a single text from him like you usually do, so you tried reaching out.
no response.
every time you contacted him afterwards or tried to set up another ‘date’ he would flake last minute or respond dryly until he full-on ghosted you.
you stopped heading out together and your manager seemed content with it as you had already generated enough anticipation for your comeback.
the next time you saw him would be at a company meeting, discussing the end of your ‘relationship’.
you zoned out the entire meeting, barely hearing anything coming out of anyone’s mouth. you focused on trying not to look at shotaro and keeping your thoughts preoccupied so you felt less embarrassed just being in his presence.
your manager briefed you on the contents of the meeting afterwards, sharing that all you had to do was release a joint statement that confirmed you were now broken up.
“it’s easy enough, you mostly leave it to the social media managers. just send them your virtual signature and be sure to post it on your instagram as soon as possible. got it?” the man asked.
you nodded wordlessly with your head still in the clouds. for the first time in a long time your mind was filled with new ideas for lyrics, ranging from lovestruck to heartbroken to enraged.
you opted to walk home that day, even taking the longer route, furiously typing in your notes app and recording several voice notes on the way. you must’ve looked insane to everyone else around you but you didn’t care.
if you couldn’t get your mind off shotaro, you’d at least make it work in your favor. that night, you wrote an impressive 10 drafts of different songs, staying up until late and getting up early the next morning to head to the studio.
you drowned yourself in your work, hoping you’d forget about the boy whose presence was still all around you in both your thoughts and lyrics.
eventually, you refined and recorded all 10 songs, ready to release them in your new album.
shortly before your album announcement, you posted your official ‘breakup’ statement, feeling empty as you tapped on your screen.
you never would’ve predicted the somewhat annoying and yet incredibly charming guy that you were forced into a relationship with would haunt you this much.
you even found yourself looking through old posts and articles about the two of you, reminiscing on your time as a fake couple.
it stung knowing it was completely one-sided, and it stung even more knowing you could’ve still had him as a friend if you didn’t stupidly act on impulse.
you saw him here and there entering and leaving the SM building and the two of you would share a polite smile and bow before rushing off.
the response to your breakup announcement was unprecedented, and the amount of people heartbroken for the both of you took you by surprise.
riizeandrealize: ‘love isn’t real after all 💔💔’
y/n4eva: ‘at least we know the new album is gonna hit’
y/ntaro: ‘NOOO MY PARENTS’
tarosho28: ‘awww… so that means shotaro’s single again? 😁’
scrolling through the comments absentmindedly, one in specific caught your attention:
user1129399: ‘she always seemed more into him than he did. he’s probably the one that broke it off’
you felt hot with rage, what does a stupid netizen on the internet know? and why is their comment making you so upset?
maybe because they were partially right. you obviously were more into him or he would’ve been more receptive to your humiliating attempt at a kiss.
your album was set to come out in a week and you had a set track list recorded and ready.
and yet, you felt compelled to add one more song.
you went to work immediately, writing so fast your words were barely legible but you could read it perfectly fine.
you wrote as intensely and specifically as you could about everything—from your first encounter to your last. you tried to keep your other songs vague enough to avoid any suspicion on shotaro’s part about the subject of the lyrics, but you didn’t care anymore.
you were in love with osaki shotaro and you needed to express it in the only way you know how.
“are you insane?” your manager’s voice boomed over the line.
“it’s already recorded, and i have the backing vocals done too. i just need one more day to get the production team together and it’ll be done and ready to add to the album.” you pleaded.
“fine.” he sighed, “this better be worth it.”
“it will be.” at this point you weren’t sure if you were assuring him or yourself.
this was your most personal and emotional piece of work yet, and you were worried shitless about what response it would receive.
luckily for you, it did amazing on the charts and with your fans. in fact, your fanbase almost doubled in size and you were experiencing even more success than you were already.
unluckily for you, you still felt like shit.
your life felt empty without shotaro in it and no amount of fans, cameras, or praise could fill that void.
as you were preparing to go out onto stage for a music show, you ran into a familiar figure heading out of the green room.
of course it was none other than the one person you have been thinking about nonstop for the past month, wrote an entire album about, and the same guy who probably cringes every time he hears it play on the radio.
you gave him a polite smile before rushing towards the hair and makeup room.
“wait. y/n, can we talk real quick?” he began nervously.
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfu-
“y/n?” he repeated, snapping you back to reality.
“yes. of course.” you responded, trying to sound as collected as possible.
“i-uh listened to your new album. it’s amazing. i loved track 11 the most.” he smiled softly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
of course you liked that track, it’s obviously about you.
“thanks! is that all?” you rushed, preparing to sprint away at any moment.
“no! honestly, i wanted to apologize for the way things ended.” he confessed,
you knew how this was going to end. he was going to give you some bullshit excuse for ghosting you instead of just telling you he wasn’t interested and waste 5 minutes of your time.
but you don’t have 5 minutes to waste. you need to get up on stage and sing about how bad he hurt you.
pathetic, but at least you’re self aware.
“save it. i know you don’t feel the same way and that’s fine. but you could’ve at least told me. you didn’t have to shut me out, I thought we were friends at the very least.” you exploded, suddenly feeling a burst of adrenaline.
“but y/n-”
“and i’m not in the mood for excuses. you had a month to think of a good excuse but i guess there just isn’t one. you know i just hope you can take this experience and learn to never do this to some other girl because-”
“y/n you’re not listening to me.”
“why should i? you didn’t bother listening to me when i called you all those times. and about track 11, yes it’s about you. the whole fucking album is about you and i bet you already knew that-”
your petty rant was cut short when you felt something press gently against your lips… but he definitely wasn’t kissing you.
oh my god. did he just physically shush me? he carefully removed his finger from it’s place in front of your now-closed lips.
“did you just shush me?! have you lost your damn mind-” you began again,
“y/n!” he practically yelled, now gaining the attention from several staff members.
“i know what i did was shitty and I’m sorry. you’re right, i shouldn’t have ghosted you. but it’s not because i didn’t feel the same way. i’ve loved you for a while now.”
your jaw dropped, along with several eavesdropper’s jaws throughout the now dead-silent hallway.
“i was scared that you didn’t see me in that way but when i found out that you did… i panicked. i was too scared to tell you how i felt and i know i’m an idiot for it.” he looked down. “i’m not going to beg you to take me back or anything, but can we at least go back to the way we were? friends?”
“y/n, you need to get to hair and makeup NOW! you’re running out of time before your performance!” a staff member called out before you could respond, dragging you away.
well great. now you have to pretend everything’s alright and sing a little song on stage when your whole world has been flipped upside down.
as you sat in the makeup chair, you pondered over what would happen if you did agree to start over with shotaro, would you be happy?
before you knew it, you were on stage facing a crowd full of people staring right at you. you usually wouldn’t mind, you’re an idol after all. but the whole situation was just overstimulating you.
luckily the backtrack began playing before you could overthink and you were able to escape from reality for a few minutes to sing and perform.
you missed this feeling. you missed staying up writing, listening proudly to your new music you poured your heart into, and giving your all on stage every performance.
at the end of your song, the crowd erupted into cheers. you looked onto all the banners with your name and face plastered onto them gratefully.
whether you liked it or not, shotaro brought your spark back. yes it caused you immense pain and suffering, but it also gave you moments of joy, including the one you were experiencing right now.
once you wrapped up, you headed backstage, surprised to see shotaro standing by the monitor. was he watching your performance?
“i made up my mind.” you announced, walking up to him.
“are you sure you don’t need more time?” he asked, nervous.
“you’re a dumbass for what you did,” you started, noting how his face fell, “but i’d be an even bigger dumbass to pretend i don’t want to be with you.”
the contagious smile you’re used to seeing slowly reappeared on his face, causing you to slowly smile as well before you quickly corrected yourself.
“but… i want a proper apology. maybe you could give me one at the bakery tomorrow morning?” you mused.
“it’s a date.” he responded warmly.
118 notes · View notes
www-loser-org · 24 days
Text
Tulips and a Broken Clock
Pairing: Post-Scratch!Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Bookstore-Owner!Reader
MDNI 17/18+ ONLY
SMUT WARNING
A/N: Unfortunately, English is my first language, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! No use of y/n. This was inspired by a post prison Spencer fic called Hourglass by @nereidprinc3ss , it was so good and I loved the premise of it, so I decided to attempt my own.
Content Warnings: 17/18+ ONLY, MDNI, semi-canon Hotch, smitten!Hotch, time skips, not physically descriptive reader, physically descriptive Hotch, 1st person reader, protected sex, interchangeable use of cock and dick, oral sex (fem! receiving), missionary, fluff, angst, smut, use of pet names (darling, honey, baby, sir, counselor, captain, etc.), dirty talk, female is vocal, Hotch isn’t (not surprising), tit sucking, clit play, mention of real life events (COVID), I DO NOT OWN ANY CRIMINAL MINDS CHARACTERS, hair pulling (male receiving), scratching (no mentions of Scratch/Peter Lewis), “I need to know you’re real” sex, OC side characters (Mrs. Johnson), mentions of Before I Let Go by Kennedy Ryan, let me know if there’s more
Word Count: 5,375 words
The clock was ticking by very slowly today. Too slow. I kept eyeballing it as I anxiously waited for the seconds to pass by, silently wishing it would go by faster. It was just another day at the cozy bookshop I had opened a little over 2 years ago. The smell of vintage, used, and new books blended together in harmony with the mix of my lavender essence I had at the front. A few customers roamed amongst the shelves, skimming their fingers along the edges and quiet voices humming in the air. It was a slow day, by any means, but it was even slower as I waited impatiently for the clock to start my wonderful date night. I tapped against the book I was reading and watched as the seconds clock ticked by. Is it getting slower? I should have the mechanic check it out. But that’s so expensive, I can just do i-
“Are you okay there, sugarplum?” The customer asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I shook a little, but smiled nonetheless. “Yes, Mrs. Johnson. I’m just a little distracted today.” I replied, scanning her books. 
“What’s got your mind warped, sugar?” She asks, taking out her wallet.
“Well,” I started, bagging her order and tapping on the screen. “I have a date tonight.”
“Oooo, is it that attractive, serious, brunette man? He’s been looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.” She said.
I nodded, cheekily smiling. “Yes, we had gone out on a few dates over the past 4 months and I really like him.”
She chuckled. “That’s good, sugarplum. Have fun tonight, and be safe.” She warned, pointing an accusatory finger at me as she grabbed her bag and walked out. I giggled and waved at her. “I will, goodnight Mrs. Johnson!” 
I looked back at the clock and not even 5 minutes went by, the hour hand remaining on the 5. I sighed and pulled out my book again, attempting to continue my reading as the remaining customers wandered and filed out. Purchasing or window shopping. 
One by one, chapter by chapter, it soon became 6:30 and I was able to close for the night. I counted out the change and the register and placed them in the safe, putting in the code to ensure its safety. It was then I heard the bell go off in the store. I got up quickly and reached for the bat behind the door. “We’re closed!” I shouted into the store, my hand twisting the bat nervously. I stepped out and closed the door to the office, placing the bat in both my hands. Stupid! You should’ve just hid and called the police! I scolded myself. I walked out slowly, crouching slightly in case the intruder could see me. 
“It’s just me.” I suddenly heard from my right side. I swung the bat towards my intruder before hearing a yelp. “Aaron?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we agreed on 7:30, but I was off earlier than expected and came over immediately.” He explained as I turned on the lights, revealing him in his work attire and holding a bouquet of tulips. Pink tulips. Aaron had fallen and was now laying in between the back reading chairs. He held out the tulips for me to take. I breathed the sweet scent of them and sighed, smiling sweetly at him before holding a hand down to him. He took it and I pulled him up. He stood up quickly and so close to me, I could feel his breath on my nose. I smiled and looked up into his eyes. “Hi.” I whispered.
“Hi.” He whispered back. He smiled and I stole a glance at his lips. He noticed and glanced at mine. Slowly, he leaned in, closing most of the gap between us until his were brushing mine, teasing mine. I decided to minimize the distance and close the gap, kissing him fully. The kiss was soft and sweet, slow enough to stop the world. I closed my eyes, heaven taking over my senses. I let go of his hand and reached to cup his jaw and his grazed my other hand that held the roses. The kiss stole our breath away as we’d break apart for a few seconds and return to the kisses. Heaven blessed this world as we continued to kiss each other in the back reading area of the store. 
Soon his hands caressed my waist as he gently pushed me back. I opened my eyes and pouted teasingly. “Don’t you have to get dressed?” Aaron asked.
I giggled lightly. “You’re right, I do. Give me 20 minutes. You can come up if you’d like. My place is just above the store if you wanna wash up and wait.”
He nodded and followed me upstairs. I led him into the living room, nodding my head as I told him to sit. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a clear vase for the flowers. I felt a presence behind me as he grabbed the vase with one hand. “I got this, it’s okay. Go get ready, don’t worry, we’re still early.” I smiled and kissed his cheek before briskly walking towards my bedroom. 
***
We were walking towards the restaurant doors, hand in hand, smiling at each other. Aaron had a reservation at 8 for the place. I was decked out in a white dress with white shoes, opposite of his dark suit and red tie. Aaron told the hostess his name and she then led us to our table. Aaron had let go of my hand briefly to pull out my chair. “And they say chivalry is dead.” I teased as I sat down, pulling my chair in slightly. 
“Well honey, I keep the chivalry's heart pumping.” He smiled before sitting down in his seat, pulling out his menu as I pulled out mine.
We spent hours there, just talking, laughing, and smiling overall. My heart fluttered at every little thing Aaron had done. From asking the waiter for a refill for my water to asking me little questions about my shop. Whether it be the workload, the stock of books, or even the customer shenanigans, I understood that he cared. I also discussed my past life, parts I never really discussed with anyone else, how I never kept in contact with my parents because their dreams for me were different from mine, how my fiance died in a car crash, how hard it was to start up another small business bookshop, etc. We also discussed some of his old cases. They were brutal, not brutal enough for nightmares, but enough to scare me a little. He had told me about his late ex-wife, Haley, and his son Jack, who was with the babysitter tonight. He spoke highly of her, mentioning how though they divorced, she had always understood his job and odd hours. He stated how she had aggressive opinions against it, but it was understandable given the circumstances and the effects on the relationship. I reached out for his hand and grasped it softly, hoping to comfort him. He explained that his job is what got her killed, how a serial killer named George Foyet had shot and killed Haley. He also talked about Jack and how tough it was to raise him with his job and how much help Jessica, Haley’s sister, had helped out when watching Jack when Aaron had a case. I nodded in understanding, allowing him to continue his stories throughout the night. 
Later that night, he walked me home. He held an arm around my waist as we slowly walked the path to my home. I adorned his black trench jacket and his tie was loosened. We shared whispers of little things that had happened today, swapping little stories with each other as the wind brushed around us. 
Once we reached the front door of the store, we stopped. I looked at him and turned to fully face him. “You can say no, but do you wanna head up with me?” I asked hesitantly with hopeful eyes. 
He eyed upstairs before closing his eyes, groaning quietly. “I would love to, honey. But I forgot that the babysitter doesn’t do nights.”
I nodded, slightly disappointed. “It’s alright. I understand. Besides, we had that other time a few weeks ago.”
He chuckled before pulling me in close, kissing my forehead. “I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I promise, I’ll make it up to you next week. I’ll push Jack to have a sleepover or something.” He looked into my eyes, guilt glossing over the surface. “I’ll think of something, I swear.”
I smiled before leaning more into him. “I know you will, Hotchner. You always do.” I kissed him. And then I kissed him again. And then I leaned in for another kiss, brushing his lips with mine. He laughed lightly at the trick and held my jaw in his hands before leaning in and kissing me slowly, closing his eyes. I closed mine as I grabbed his torso and pulled him closer to me.
We eventually let go and breathed in the fresh air. “Good night, darling.” Aaron whispered, letting go.
“Good night, Captain.” I replied, unlocking and opening the door. Once I entered, I immediately went upstairs before realizing that I still had his jacket. I placed it on the coat rack and took a picture of it, sending it to Aaron. You forget something? I texted him. 
He replied, Keep it, save it for our next date.
I smiled before replying, Ok ;). My heart buzzed as I thought of all the possibilities of our next date. I was so excited. I think I like him a little more than I thought. 
***
The next date never came. In fact, there were only a few texts exchanged before Aaron completely ghosted me. A 44 year old man with PTSD and a 11 year old son ghosted me. I scoff at the fact less than I cry over the fact. I thought we were going somewhere with this. I thought we were lovers at that point. I guess I was wrong. I was still managing my bookshop, as usual. From 9 am to 8 pm, customers came and went, buying books, selling books, etc. The pandemic made it hard for the store to survive. I reopened the store as soon as it was allowed, following all the regulations and rules in hopes that I could sell more books and keep the store on its feet. However, during the pandemic, my late grandmother had caught COVID and had died, leaving me an inheritance that kept the store alive and thriving. That and the coffee bar I had installed along with the 9 am to 6 pm barista, who gets paid separately and pays rent on the space.
The tulips from my last date with Aaron sit on the desk, wilted and dried out. I kept them there out of hope, no matter how many times my friends had told me to get rid of them and no matter how many dates I went on, no one could compare to Aaron. It’s silly and stupid, that after 8 years of him disappearing, I still had hope he would come back for his jacket. But he didn’t. And so the tulips were one of the good memories I had with Aaron. 
Sighing, I looked at the clock and saw that it had not moved since noon. I checked the time on my computer and saw that time had sufficiently passed. It was 6:52 and I knew I had to get ready to close. Looking around, I saw the only person left was Mrs. Johnson in the back reading area. I smiled before getting up and tapping her shoulder lightly. “Mrs. Johnson, it’s almost closing time. Would you like me to ring you up?”
“Oh, yes please, sugarplum. Just the one, please.” She replied, holding out one book, Before I Let Go by Kennedy Ryan as I helped her up.
“Good book?” I ask, walking up to the register and ringing her up.
“Oh, it’s great! Reminds me of my husband, Richard, and I,” She smiled fondly. “Falling back in love after thinking we fell out of it.”
“That’s sweet, Mrs. Johnson. I’ll have to check it out myself.” I smiled back.
She nodded, glancing at the flowers. “Don’t lose hope, dear.”
I solemnly smiled. “Good night, Mrs. Johnson.”
She nodded in reply and walked out of the store. I followed behind her and started to pull in the outside coffee tables and chairs, wiping them down as I brought them in. I locked the door, making sure the door didn’t budge. I wiped down all the shelves and the register area, placing the cleaning items under the desk. I glanced up and saw the clock. Snapping my fingers, I pulled out a drawer in the register desk and grabbed a couple batteries along with a screwdriver. I grabbed a ladder and opened it out. Stepping up the ladder, I grabbed the clock off the screw in the wall. I stepped back down the ladder when I heard a knock at the door. Stopping my movements, I placed the clock down on a nearby shelf before walking out into the main area. Looking through the glass, my breath stopped. His back was turned to me, but I knew it was him. Aaron Hotchner.
He was holding white tulips and anxiously looking around. I walked closer to the door, my eyes trained on him and his stature. He turned around and our eyes met. Slowly, I walked over to the door. My hands shook as I slowly pressed the handle bar of the door. I pushed the door open and looked back up at him. His eyes stared back into mine. He looked different. More rugged features on his face. He had grown out his beard and was more fit in. He was wearing much more casual wear, no suits. He was wearing an open blue button down with a white shirt and jeans, sneaker clad. I slowly reached a hand up to his face before cupping his cheek. He leaned in a little to my hand. I gasped quietly before caressing more of his face. His eyes were glazed with tears, reflecting mine. “You’re really here.” I confirmed, tears slowly falling from my eyes. 
“Yes. And I’m so sorry.” He replied, sincerity in his voice.
I shook my head. “Shut up.” I grabbed both sides of his face and pulled him in for a kiss. I closed my eyes as he reciprocated immediately. He wrapped his arms around my waist, careful for the flowers. This gave me the opportunity to pull him closer to me, wrapping my hands around his neck. His beard tickled my chin and tears flavored the kiss. I pulled away with my head still against his, a quiet sob wracking my throat. “You’re really here.” I said again, more breathily than the first time. My eyes were still closed because I feared that if I opened them, he would be gone again. “I’m really here.” He confirmed, as if he had heard my thoughts. I laughed lightly before opening my eyes. He was already looking at me, quiet tears flowing down his face. I kissed him again, much softer than the first time. 
I kicked out my foot and pushed the door more open while pulling him inside by his neck. As I pulled him inside, the kisses got more desperate as we swerved towards my cash desk. Aaron placed his hands on either side of the desk, placing the flowers down on the counter. I pulled him closer, molding our bodies as close as possible, grinding against his clothed dick. His hands gripped the desk counter, knuckles turning white at my movement. He groaned into my mouth, which sent shivers down my back. He pulled away first, both of us gasping for breath. “Wait.” He said and I paused, opening my eyes and looking at his. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”
I placed my hand against his mouth. “Aaron, I’m positive. You’re alive and I hate you for that and I want to understand why. But right now, I need you to fuck me like you promised. I need to know you’re still here and you won’t leave again.”
He shook his head, eyes running crazy. He removed my hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“And Jack?”
He chuckled, reminiscence in his eyes. “Jack is almost 19 years old and in college. I’m pretty sure we’re fine.”
“Okay, just double checking.” I confirmed. He tapped my hips. I immediately understood and jumped, him catching me. I placed a hand around his shoulder and patted his chest with the other. “Why don’t we take this to my room.” I said.
“Absolutely.” He replied. He then walked as quickly as possible towards the office door, opening and closing it while still holding me. He walked us up the stairs and put me down once we reached the living room. I grabbed his face and pulled him towards mine, heavy breaths mingling with one another. I pulled him in for another hot kiss before my hands moved to push the button down off “Is this okay?”
“Yes.” He replied, desperately, allowing the garment to fall onto the ground. He fiddled with the hem of my own shirt, teasing my skin. “Is this okay?” He asked, raising a brow.
“God, yes.” I replied, lifting my arms. He removed the shirt and pulled me into him by my hips. His lips sought mine out and I followed the suit, kissing him deeper. I kicked off my shoes and he did his. I pulled him by his neck into my bedroom, the door pushing open with our force. I let go of his lips and gasped for air, falling back into my queen bed. I pushed myself all the way up to my pillows, curling my finger to tease him towards me, smiling cheekily. He followed me up, lips kissing up my skin from my jean clad hips. My hands sought his hair as I basked in the heat of his lips. He reached my bra and pulled it down enough to reveal my nipples. They hardened at the cold air and at his movements. He kissed each one teasingly. I watched him with bated breath. His eyes bore back into mine as he proceeded to take my right nipple in his mouth, sucking sweetly and swirling his tongue. I moaned at the contact, grabbing his hair. He continued his mantra of sensuality, taking moments between suckling and swirling his tongue. His right hand twisted and flicked my other nipple. The movements alone had me moaning at the contact and pulling him closer into me. He switched to the opposite side, making sure to give the second nipple just as much attention as the first. I let out another moan at the switch, leaning my head back and shutting my eyes. He continued this mantra as much as he did the first one until both nipples were perked and red from the attention. His trail of kisses reached my neck as he sucked bruising kisses on my neck. His lips reached mine and he pressed deep, hot kisses on my lips. He teased his tongue, prodding at my lips and I opened my mouth. His tongue and taste invaded my senses, he tasted of cinnamon vanilla as I explored more, fighting him for dominance. He won, as usual, taking over all my senses, smell, taste, touch, you name it, he owned it. 
His fingers tapped the waistband of my jeans. He let go of my swollen lips with a gasp. “Is this okay?”
“Please.” I whispered.
“Huh? I didn’t hear that darling. You need to speak up for me, darling girl.” Aaron teased
“Please, Aaron.” I pleaded louder, lifting my hips to meet his. 
He chuckled. “So impatient.” He kissed my jaw. “So needy.” He kissed my neck, trailing his kisses back down until they reached my belt. His fingers fiddled with the buckle, opening the belt. His fingers unbuttoned my pants and he pulled the zipper down, easily pulling the pants down. I lifted my hips off the bed to give him more access to pull the jeans off. After he pulled my pants off, I reached around my back and unclasped my bra, throwing it off to the side. Aaron positioned himself right in front of my entrance, licking his lips as if he were starved. He looked up at my eyes from his position. “May I?” He asked gently against my pussy, ever the gentleman. 
I nodded. “Yes, please, Aaron.” I pleaded. 
He obeyed, chuckling slightly. He pulled down my panties and groaned when he saw how wet I had gotten. He looked completely enamored with my pussy, watching how it glistened and clenched, waiting for him. I felt him breathing at the entrance and felt my walls clench around nothing. I made a small noise from my throat. “Please sir, I need you.”
Aaron’s eyes lit up and he smirked. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I got you.” His tongue reached out and licked a big stripe against my pussy. I gasped at the sudden contact but lifted my hips nonetheless. He wrapped his (big, beefy) arms around my thighs and grounded my body against my bed. He pulled my lower half towards his mouth, licking his way into my entrance. I moaned and gasped at the feeling, allowing him in. His tongue licked stripes on and inside my pussy, varying in patterns and paces. He moved one hand from my thigh and prodded one finger inside. I felt it slide in and moaned at the contact, leaning my head back and shutting my eyes. His finger pumped in and out in a slow rhythm as he licked stripes up and down my labia. 
After a few more pumps, Aaron added another finger inside my entrance. He moved his tongue up from its position and swirled it around my clit. I gasped at the sudden change and grabbed his hair, pulling slightly. He groaned a little and it sent vibrations up my body, letting moans fall out my mouth like a river. His mouth switched from swirling to sucking my clit. His fingers pumped in and out of my pussy. One of my hands was down grabbing his hair, pulling him closer to my pussy. My other hand was under my pillow, grasping the sheets of it and twisting. He sped up his fingers, pumping them in and out of me faster. I gasped at the change and moaned. His tongue swirled my clit until his thumb replaced it, circling it slowly. His fingers sped up as well as his thumb and it made me gasp, my thighs threatening to close in. “Oh shit, Aaron.” I moaned out.
“That’s it, darling. Say my name.” He replied, continuing his movements at the same pace. “Aaron, Aaron, Aaron.” I repeated, like a chorus, my moans and gasps making up the verse. His fingers were quickly working me up, closer and closer. “Oh my god, Aaron. Don’t stop.” I gasped out. He started leaving kisses over my thighs, stopping every few kisses to suck hickies into my thighs. “Please, don’t -fuck, don’t stop!” I pleaded, moving both hands to grip his hair, pulling slightly. The overwhelming pleasure of everything, his thumb, his fingers, his kisses, it all hit me as that knot twisted tighter in my stomach. “Oh fuck, I’m about to cum!” I let out, gasping and moaning, unable to stop myself. His fingers kept the pace but went harder and harder, making me gasp even more than before. “Oh fuck Aaron, I’m about to-” I was cut off when the knot broke in my stomach and I came with a moan. Aaron reached his head down, licking up every droplet like a man starved. His fingers continued to slowly fuck me through my orgasm, drawing it out until the first load was gone. I moved both of my hands to my forehead, catching my breath.
After he had finished, he brought himself back up to my face. “Breathe, darling. It’s okay.” He said. He kissed me softly on my cheeks and nose. I brushed my fingers through his hair and brought it to the back of his neck. I pulled him back to my lips and kissed him desperately. I moved my other hand down his chest and fiddled with the hem of his white shirt. He immediately understood, sitting up and taking it off. I moved my hands to his belt buckle and tried to get it off. He grabbed my hands and placed them above my head. “I know that you’re impatient, baby, but I gave you what you want-”
“Please Aaron, I want more.” I reply, lifting my hips to grind towards his. 
“First of all, it’s sir. Second of all, it’s going to be sir for the rest of tonight, or you’re not gonna cum. If you want anything, you ask. Are we clear?” He responded in a demanding tone.
“Yes, counselor.” I tested, smile spreading, testing him. He turned his head to the side curiously, smiling curving in his features. He chuckled, “I’ll allow it.”
Slowly, he let go of my wrists and sat back on his knees. I pulled my elbows up, positioning myself towards him. He unclasped his belt and pulled down his pants, leaving him in his white boxer briefs. I sat up and slowly reached for his cock, feeling out how hard he was. Aaron wrapped a hand around my wrist and pulled it away slowly. “No, not tonight,” He laid me back down and I wriggled to get more comfortable. He grabbed the spare pillow from beside me and tapped my hips. I obeyed and raised them. “Tonight’s all about you, my darling.” Aaron put the pillow under my hips and stripped himself of his boxer briefs. His dick was leaking with precum, the red tip begging for attention. I stared with my mouth agape. He was 6.5 inches and I knew I was in trouble. I had forgotten how big he was, 8 years time will do that to a person. He reached behind and pulled a condom from his pants pocket. He opened the package, pinched the tip of the rubber and rolled it down his cock. He looked at my face and caught me staring. Aaron chuckled and it caught my attention, changing my line of sight to look at his eyes. “Have you not been taken care of, baby? I’m sorry, I’m here now.” He said, teasing my pussy with his tip. I gasped at the contact, looking down at him holding his cock and where our bodies met. He hissed slightly. “God, you’re so wet.”
“Please sir.” I pleaded.
“Please what?”
“Please stop teasing.” I whined, slowly reaching a hand down to his dick. I reached down and gathered some slick from my pussy and rubbed it on Aaron’s dick, pumping it a couple times. He hissed again before fully grabbing his dick and slowly entered my pussy. I gasped at the stretch, not used to it like I was and closed my eyes, concentrating on relaxing. He leaned down and kissed my neck softly. “Just let me know honey. When you want me to move.” He whispered. 
Once he fully entered me, I moaned at the contact, taking time to adjust. Eventually, I whispered a small yes and Aaron started to thrust back and forth into me. I moaned at the contact as he groaned. Slowly he thrusted in and out of my pussy, taking one of my hands on his and placing it above my head. I moaned out at his thrusts as they hit my pussy deep and hard. Aaron grunted as he thrusted, the sexy sound spilling from his lips as he kissed my neck. I took my free hand and wrapped it around his neck and down his back, softly clawing at it as he moved. “Faster.” I whispered.
“What was that?” He asked in a teasing tone, hitting harder, causing me to yelp in surprise. 
“Please sir, faster.” I gasped out. He obeyed, moving his hips faster and harder, hitting that sweet spot. A high pitched moan left my lips as I clawed his back, my legs wrapped around his waist. He suckled more hickies into my skin, moving his hips faster. “Oh god, sir.” I called out, gasping at the pace of his thrusts. “Yeah? How do you feel, honey?” He teased. 
“So. Fucking. Good.” I replied in a gaspy, whiny tone. He moved my hand to his hair and moved his lips down towards my boobs, suckling more hickies down the trail. He latched his mouth around one of my nipples. His hips moved faster, the veins of his dick rutting pleasure through my walls. His tip continued to hit my spongy sweet spot, causing me to silently scream. My hand tightened on his hair, not pushing or pulling him anywhere, just tightening which caused him to groan. My other hand dug my nails into his shoulder blade, scratching and grabbing onto anything to ground me in my heavenly state. Serieses of “oh fuck” spilled out of my lips like a chorus. Our sweaty bodies are moving with the shaking of the bed.
I decided to open my eyes and look down at Aaron. His eyes were focused on my boobs before he looked up into my eyes, switching nipples. The multitude of sensations were overwhelming, but not enough to get me where I needed to be. That knot in my stomach was so close to breaking. I leaned my head back and squeezed my eyes shut, mouth forming an “o”. “Harder, please sir.” I called out, scratching his head. He obeyed, snapping his hips into me, fast and hard, causing me to gasp and throw my head to the side. I continued my series of “fucks” and moans as he continued to fuck me into oblivion. I squeezed around his cock, getting closer and closer. He got the message, reaching a hand down and swirled his thumb around my clit. “I know baby, you’re so close.”
“God, yes.” I replied, gasping at the contact, arching my back some more. 
“I am too, come on baby.” He groaned out. My moans staggered with his thrusts. His fingers. His mouth. His voice. His words. His dick. It all hit me as the knot tightened even more. “Oh fuck, sir, I’m about t- oh god.” I cried out, rutting my hips to match his pace. 
“That’s it honey, let go, I got you.” He said and I did. I let go and came at that. He grunted and came as well, the condom filling up inside me. 
We both took deep breaths and I whined as he pulled out of me. We were both breathing heavily and Aaron got up from the bed. He walked towards the bathroom and threw away the condom. He closed the door and I heard the sound of him using the restroom. I reached a hand out, vision blurry and searching for him. I needed his touch. My fingers twitched for him, gasping his name out. He came back out with a damp towel and a cup of water. He handed me the cup of water and went down to my legs and pussy, gently wiping away the juices and cum from the sheets and my body. I sat up after he was finished and drank the water greedily as he removed the pillow from under my back. He used the remnants of the damp towel to wipe down my sweaty body. He threw the towel in the laundry basket before getting up again. I grabbed his wrist quickly and looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Please don’t leave again.” I pleaded, tears forming in my eyes. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, firmly with his hand on the back of my head. I closed my eyes at the contact and the tears fell down my face. I felt him pull his lips back and wipe the tears from my face. I opened my eyes and looked at him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here with you.” He confirmed. 
Aaron walked around the bed to the other side and got under the covers, motioning me to join him. I got under the covers and wrapped my arms around his torso, leaning my head on his chest. He placed his chin on the top of my head as I drifted off to sleep.
***
I woke up to my alarm and an empty bed. Blearily, I got up and grabbed a shirt off the floor and pulled on the panties, too. Aaron! I thought to myself, waking me up quickly. Putting on my slippers quickly, I headed out into the common area. Hope had faded as I didn’t see him. Panicking, I quickly thought if it was a dream and reached for the counter. Tears pricked my eyes as the lonely presence loomed over me. That was until I heard a muffled clank and a quiet “shit!” from downstairs. I gasped before turning towards the stairs.
I headed down them and opened the door to find Aaron on the ladder, positioning the clock on the nail in the wall. As if he sensed my presence, he turned towards me and smiled. “Good morning, I got us breakfast and coffee. Made it the way you like it.” He said, climbing down the ladder. I saw the food and drinks at the register desk as well as the white tulips in a vase with water, right next to the dried tulips. I walked towards the desk and Aaron appeared behind me. He kissed my cheek. He licked his lips before concern crossed his features, turning me to face him. “Are you okay?” He asked. 
I smiled and nodded. “I am now.”
He smiled back and hugged me tightly, swaying slightly as we drank in each other's presence.
A/N: Hehe, it's finally done and I honestly love it, let me know what you guys think and if I should start a taglist on this or something.
Buy me a ko-fi if you enjoyed it. I also do commissions! Likes and reblogs are also helpful!
https://ko-fi.com/katelynyava1130
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daydreams-after-dark · 3 months
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What's your fanfic fantasy? part 14 CONCLUSION
Chapter Contents.
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //
Premise: fem reader + Chan + Jisung 18+ fanfic. This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?
Chapter Summary: Another threesome...
a/n: this is it. the final chapter. I want to thank everyone who has followed this fic and the journey of y/n, chan, and jisung. I hope you enjoyed the other characters and what amazing friends they are helping her out like they did.
This chapter is pure smut. (All the other chapters were too, I suppose) but this is just because I wanted to see our three main characters together.
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Warnings: threesome, vaginal sex, anal sex, double pen two holes, m x m x f, oral sex, coercion, I don’t even know anymore! But if you’ve read up to this point you will be fine.
Y/n pov.
You wake up with your limbs wrapped around a body. You’re exhausted but as soon as you remember where you are and whose bodies are lying beside you, you’re newly energised. You’re here with your two loves. Jisung, who you’re clinging to like a koala, and Chan spooning you from behind. A smile appears across your face. This is what it feels like to wake up with them?
You gaze at Jisung, who looks peaceful, and beautiful, as he sleeps. Your mind drifts back to the night before, to his confession. He’s loved you all this time? You that thought sit with you as you recall some of the awkward encounters he and you have had over that time. Or the moments where his gaze would linger a little too long. You had never really paid attention to it. Your mind was always on Chan. But what had changed this week to make you see Jisung in a different way? Perhaps because you could fantasise about the other band members and not him it meant you had somehow blocked in him from your mind? Maybe deep down you knew you liked him but thought that would make you feel confused about your feelings for Chan? Who knows?
But then the way he looked at you the other night, it tore down any blocks or barricades you had up between you and him. Jisung claimed you that night. He must have been terrified to finally touch you?
You feel a stirring behind you. Chan adjusting his hips and pressing his morning erection against your ass. Oh! to have finally felt Chan inside of you! It was more than you could’ve ever have imagined. He was absolutely fucking perfect. Just the right balance of tender and brutal.
And now you’re horny.
You wriggle your ass back against Chan and his hand is quick to grip your hip, pulling you back hard against him. His mouth finds the sensitive part of your neck and kisses you tenderly.
“Good morning, my beautiful.” He whispers, and it’s almost like he can’t believe you’re really here. After a few minutes of gentle caressing, he leans up on an elbow so he can see over you. “Isn’t Ji just so perfect when he’s asleep?” he grins.
“So you’re saying he’s not perfect when he’s awake?” You joke.
“Ha fucking ha. No,” his expression turns loving “he gets really anxious and stressed. He doesn’t always show it, but it’s there. When he’s asleep, he looks peaceful.”
Chan’s right. Jisung does look perfect when he’s asleep.
“Do you think he’s excited for a threesome?” You ask, turning your head back to look at Chan.
“I think he’s going to lose his shit.” Chan chuckled.
“Should we suck him off together? To wake him up?” You ask lightheartedly.
Jisung’s eyes fling open “Yes!!! Yes please!” He says eagerly.
Chan laughs “You fucking little piece of shit. How long have you been awake?”
Jisung feigns innocence. “Not long… Something about a threesome woke me.” He says shyly.
“Well, Jisung, Channie and I wanna suck your cock… if you’ll let us.” You coo.
Jisung throws the sheet off his body to reveal his hard on. His dick is absolutely perfect. Chan wastes no time to climb over to him and nestle between his legs. You’ve seen Jisung suck Chan’s cock, but not Chan sucking Jisung’s. Your eyes widen. Chan takes Jisung in his hand and kitten licks the tip, then looks up at Jisung lovingly. You wonder if Chan gets rough Jisung like he did with you in the tub last night? Jisung let’s out a whimper as Chan licks him from the base to the tip. You feel yourself getting wet and you’re compelled to join in pleasuring Jisung. Your Jisung.
You position yourself down beside Chan and together you tend to Jisung. You both lick up the side of his shaft, your mouths meeting at the tip. You kiss messily with the head of Jisung’s dick still between you, your tongues and lips and Jisung’s cock all intertwined. You keep stroking his cock and Jisung is almost crying in pleasure. You continue like this, sloppily making out around Jisung’s penis, until Jisung interrupts you both.
“Channie…” Jisung sounds delirious.
“What is it, my love?” Chan replies, breaking from your kisses.
“I… I … wannna…” he stutters.
“You need to use words, Sungie.” Chan encourages.
“I wanna… can I… fuck you this time Channie?” his voice is small.
Your eyes grow wide and you look to Chan. “I so want to see that.” You whisper and bite your lip.
Chan smirks at you and looks down at Jisung “Of course you can fuck me. I love the way you feel inside me.”
Your vagina clenches at Chan’s words and at the thought of what is about to happen.
The men re-arrange themselves so Chan is laying on the bed and Jisung is kneeling between Chan’s legs.
“Can you pass me the lube, baby… bedside table.” Jisung instructs as he gives Chan’s cock some attention.
“Fuck, Jisung! God. Your mouth.” Chan chokes.
You watch as Jisung expertly works on prepping Chan. He is so confident with his lover, reading Chan’s body language and responses, and knowing when to add another finger. Chan’s abdominals tense and relax as the pleasure builds. He closes his eyes as his breath becomes more rapid and he sucks in his lip. Jisung’s eyes are hooded and full of a mix of admiration and lust, as he switches his gaze back and forth between Chan’s entrance and his face.
The pair look so in love and this feels so intimate. Part of you feels like maybe you shouldn’t be watching and you’re not sure what to do.
“Y/n,” Jisung says low “Kiss Chan for me.”
They haven’t forgotten about you. You lean in on all fours and take Chan into a kiss. He moans into your mouth and his hand finds your ass. He grips it hard making you yelp slightly and his fingers move to your soft wet folds. You crave for him to put his fingers inside you, and when he does, you let out a long low moan. The stretch feels like relief.
Chan peels his mouth away. “You’re cunt is addicted to being fucked isn’t it.” He breaths.
“Channie,” you moan. “You say such dirty things, you know that, right?” You sit up and take in the view in front of you. Jisung is lining his cock up to Chan’s entrance and you glance back at Chan’s needy expression. “I think you need something to keep that mouth of yours quiet.” You say to him as you climb over and straddle his face so you’re facing Jisung.
“Oh. God. Yes… sit on my face babygirl.” Chan growls and with an arm around each of your thighs he pulls you down over his face.
“That’s so fucking hot.” Jisung murmers.
Chan’s wet tongue devours you from below, as you watch Jisung slowly thrust into Chan. Chan moans and it sends vibrations through you, making you gasp. You lean forward to take hold of his cock. It’s rock hard and straining. Pre-cum oozes from the tip. Jisung strokes your hair affectionately and cups your face so you’re looking at him. The way he looks at you makes your heart melt and you smile. “You’re so pretty, y/n” he whispers.
You look down to watch Jisung’s beautiful cock slide in and out of Chan. It is the most graphic sight you’ve ever seen, and it almost makes you come right then. You breathe deeply trying to steady yourself and hold off uour rapidly approaching orgasm. You want this to last forever.
“Fuck, Channie. You take Jisung’s cock so well. I didn’t know you were such a cock slut.” You tease. “I thought you you were a dom. But judging by this scenario… I am not quite sure.”
“Y/n,” Jisung pants as his thrusts become more forceful. “I need you to ride Chan’s cock while I’m fucking him. Can you do that for me?”
You raise an eyebrow and look cheekily at Jisung before spinning yourself around so you’re facing Chan and straddling his torso. He looks so fucked out he can’t even speak. He’s just moaning and whining as Jisung slowly fucks him to death.
“That’s it baby. Back yourself up a little.” Jisung’s hands are on your hips, guiding you back to line up with Chan’s cock. Jisung holds the base steady as you lower yourself down, taking Chan all at once. You’re still sore from the day before, but you don’t care.
Chan let’s out a choked cry. “F—fuckkkkk!” he cries as you lean over him and push back against his cock.
Jisung wraps his hands around you, and leans over your back. His skin is sticky with sweat. You can feel his heart pounding. You feel safe. This is where you belong. Jisung’s breath is on your neck and you’re overwhelmed with emotion as you both fuck Chan together.
The reality of this precious moment hits you and so does your orgasm. Your body stiffens as the tension inside you snaps, making you see stars. “I’ve got you, baby.” Jisung whispers, as both their hands hold onto you as you ride out the orgasm.
You lift your head to look down at Chan who looks at you with blown out eyes before he captures you in a kiss.
Jisung grips your hips, digging his fingers into you as he directs you up and down Chan’s cock. “Fuck you should see the view I have right now.” He says in disbelief. You can only imagine what it must look like for Jisung, looking down to see his own cock fucking Chan, and Chan’s cock fucking you all at once.
Chan’s hands slide down your body to cup your ass, pulling the cheeks apart. It is then I feel something cold on your hold. Lube. Jisung massages a lubed finger against you, making you to gasp with pleasure. Then a finger slips inside. Very slowly. Very carefully. You seem to be lost in pleasure because before you know it, Jisung has two fingers inside of you. One of your favourite things is to have a finger or two in your ass while you’re being fucked, but you want more. You want both men inside you.
Then you feel it. Jisung’s cock against you.
“Have you ever done this before? Take two cocks at once?” Chan whispers. You shake your head. “Only one in the vagina and one in the mouth… I have had anal before…but I’m nervous.” You say wide eyed. He pulls me close.
“It’s okay. We’ve got you. Jisung’s really careful. He knows what to do.” Chan’s words alone make you relax. You trust them. You love them.
“Oh my God, baby. You look so inviting.” Hums Jisung as the tip of his cock prods you. “I know you’re going to take this so well.” He places a hand on your hip and guides his cock into you. “Good girl.”
“Oh… fu-” you gasp. You had not prepared yourself for the feeling of two penises inside you. Jisung inches in bit by bit, allowing you time to adjust before moving any further. The sensations are a mix of a burning pain, a stretching feeling, pleasure, need, relief. Every time Jisung stops, you whimper for more. Finally he is all the way inside.
“Ughh… you’re so tight around me.” Grunts Chan. “I need to fuck you so bad. Will you be a good girl and take it? Even if it hurts?” Chan’s words echo the previous night when he became aggressive in the sexiest way. Your vagina clenches around Chan’s cock. He smirks “You like that thought, hmm?”
“Hyung, I don’t want to hurt her?” Jisung pipes up.
“It’s okay, Jisung. I like it… want you to be rough with me… please.” You feel so fucking needy right now that you beg them to start fucking you.
The men start off slow, alternating turns in thrusting into you, then begin to quicken the pace. Moans, whimpers, grunts and cries fill the room as they fuck you faster, harder. Eventually, Jisung lays over your back, pressing you against Chan, and Chan’s arm wraps around both you and Jisung. You bury your head in Chan’s neck, making space for the pair to kiss each other. They start to time their thrusts so they are slamming into you at the same time. You come again, practically screaming this time, as you clench hard around their cocks.
“Oh fuck, did you feel that Ji?” Chan gasps.
Jisung nods “Oh my God, I’m gonna cum.” And with a few more thrusts you feel his release inside of you.
Chan finally lets go too. You don’t know how he’s even managed to hold off coming for this long. You feel him pulse as he ejaculates, for what seems like forever, deep inside your cunt.
But there is no time for rest. Jisung swiftly pulls out, making you shudder and lays on his back on the bed. “Quick. Baby. Sit on my face.” He says urgently. “Hurry! Before the cum seeps out.”
What? You’re taken by surprise at the request, but quickly do as he says, straddling his face the same as you did for Chan.
“Thats’s it baby. Good girl. Yes like that.” He pulls you down so his mouth is buried in your pussy ready to catch the leaking cum.
“Fuck! Jisung. That visual alone is making me hard again.” Chan exclaims. You turn to him to see him stroking his rapidly re-hardening cock. You can feel the cum leaking out of both holes and Jisung uses a finger to help bring down his own cum to mix with Chan’s. Your pussy is so sensitive and overstimulated, but Jisung isn’t about to let you go. It’s like he needs this to stay alive. He licks and sucks the cum that is leaking from you, the tip of his tongue dipping into your cunt to scoop out as much as possible. Fuck! It feels good though, and you start to grind down on Jisung’s face. Your gaze falls on his cock. It’s still rock hard, and you lean down to suck on it. Jisung moans into your pussy sending shock waves through me.
Chan shuffles down to sit next to Jisung’s hips so that their cocks are close to each other, and you alternate taking their dicks into my mouth. You take them as deep as you can, forcing yourself not to gag. You swirl your tongue around both their tips at the same time, whilst simultaneously stroking their cocks.
“Fuck.” They keep crying as you try to give them the best blow job of their lives. But an idea hits you. You pull off both cocks and look at Chan whose expression is one of agony. “I want to watch you fuck Jisung.”
————————
Chan lines his now generously lubed cock with Jisung’s ass.
“He doesn’t need prepping, he likes the stretch.” Chan explains, when he sees the shocked look on your face.
Jisung takes him so easily. Chan has the biggest dick you’ve ever seen, and seeing it disappearing and reappearing out of Jisung’s ass is amazing. He picks up the pace quickly and it isn’t long until he is pounding into Jisung brutally. They seem to be able to go forever. Jisung’s sounds of pleasure hit you in the pussy over and over and you feel delirious. You keep pumping Jisung’s cock until he is painting your breasts with cum.
“I love you Channie.” Cries Jisung as he comes.
“Fuck!!” cries Chan, Jisung’s words of love sending him over the edge, and he pulls out to paint your face in ropes of cum.
You all separate and lay on your backs panting and catching your breaths. That was the wildest sex you’d ever had. These men will be the death of you. Your mind is blank as you bask in post sex, post orgasm bliss. You’re brought back to reality when you feel a someone move between your legs, hands pushing your legs apart, a mouth landing on your pussy and another one on your mouth.
Jisung kisses you slowly and explores your mouth with his lips and tongue. The taste of him is a culmination of my wetness, both men’s cum, lube, and Jisung’s saliva. You wrap your arm around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss. He melts into it, giving you everything you need in this moment.
You feel Chan’s tongue against you and you flinch. “Baby, I can’t take any more. I’m too sensitive. Can’t.” You beg him stop.
Chan grips your thighs harder and looks up. “You can take it. You are our good girl aren’t you?” he says sternly and you clench around nothing. You continue to protest.
“Shhh…. Baby.” Coos Jisung. He leans up and gazes at you, cupping your cheek and placing little pecks along your jaw. You feel as though Jisung is going to side with you and tell Chan that you need a break.
“Y/n, baby.” He starts again. “I know you can take just a little bit more.” He kisses your mouth. “You still need to feel what it’s like to have Channie fuck your ass.” There is eagerness in Jisung’s eyes, like you’re about to experience the best feeling in the world. Something that only Jisung and you get to share.
You stare at Jisung wide eyed. “But he’s so big! I’m not sure I -” Jisung puts two fingers to your mouth to hush you, while Chan digs two fingers into my pussy causing you to moan.
“Channie, she might really need a break.” Jisung decides and looks to Chan.
“Wait!” You interject. “No. I want to. I’m okay. I want to feel what its’ like.”
Jisung smiles. “Okay. But let me clean all this cum off you first.” He disappears into the bathroom.
“Are you sure, y/n?” Chan is at your side. It’s his turn to kiss you deeply. “Yes.” You whisper as you break the kiss.
“Okay, let’s try it like this.” He positions himself behind you, spoon position, and you feel his hardness against you as he caresses your waist and hips.
Jisung returns with a wet cloth and proceeds to wipe the drying cum off your chest and face. “Fuck, baby. I can’t believe your ours.” He grins as he settles down in front of you. You are now back to the position you were in when you woke this morning.
“I’m just going to lube up okay.” Chan says, before you feel his thick head push against you. You’re not sure how you’re going to manage after being fucked so much.
Jisung catches your expression and holds you close to him, turning himself so his body is facing yours. “You’re gonna love this y/n.” He promises you. “I’ve got you.” He whispers.
Chan stretches you and fills you slowly, bit by bit. And it feels incredible. You welcome everything that Chan has to give you, be it pleasure or pain. Fuck, part of you likes it even better when it hurts!
“Baby- fuuuu-… Oh fuck!” Chan bottoms out and immediately starts to fuck you. You can tell something has snapped in him again, like the evening before. It’s almost like you bring some wild beast of out him. You see a flicker of confusion on Jisung’s face, and you realise that Chan mustn't be this rough with him. You reach out and cup Jisung’s face. “It’s amazing.” You tell him, and his face softens.
Chan is grunting and growling as he slams into you over and over, but the more you look at Jisung, the more you want him too.
“Chan?” you say. Chan slows his movements.
“Yes, beautiful?” he kisses your sweat sheened neck.
“I want both of you again.”
“You’re addicted to both our cocks, yeah?” Chan chuckles. “Okay, let’s make that happen.” He holds onto you as he rolls onto his back, so he is slightly propped up against the headboard and you’re laying against him with his cock still inside you. Jisung is quick to hover over you, his dick ready to penetrate you. He folds your legs up against your chest, which makes Chan’s cock slip even deeper inside you. With one hand balanced on Chan’s shoulder, Jisung squeezes his cock into your very sensitive, very aroused, but very swollen, cunt. Jisung’s breath is strained as he pushes inside. “Fuck this is the tightest you’ve felt…” You hold onto his waist and pull him against you as best you can given the position you’re in.
You think they’re going to fuck you into oblivion, but instead they slow the pace right down. They move together in a tortuously slow rhythm, never picking up the pace, never thrusting any harder. Just rocking themselves gently inside of you.
Chan squeezes your neck gently whilst nuzzling into your shoulder and whispering how much he loves you. Jisung kisses you, breathing heavily into your mouth. He gathers some saliva and pushes it into your mouth, then continues to kiss you tenderly. Chan’s other hand caresses your body, oftentimes reaching up to hold Jisung against you.
You start to lose yourself to the moment, losing track of time and your surroundings. You no longer know where each of you begins or finishes. You don’t know who is causing what sensations, or who is making what sound.
You close your eyes and let yourself go as Chan and Jisung take you to some place you’ve never been before. A place just for the three of you. A place you know you will never want to leave.
The end.
A/n: as I was re editing this I realise some of the positions might have been a little far reaching… but it’s fiction, right!
I hope you enjoyed this series my loves.
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localplaguenurse · 17 days
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Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 6
So ever since my last update, I've gotten a new laptop because deadass the same day I posted chapter 5 like "oh hopefully I'll get it back soon," they told me my old acer aspire is so old they don't even make the parts for it anymore. This has nothing to do with the fic, I just thought it was funny.
Notes: still sfw, semi dysfunctional/controlling family dynamics (I assure you they will get progressively worse), ableism in the form of reader being coddled and patronized by his parents. Check masterlist for previous parts, will eventually make an actual masterlist for this fic.
@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris
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You did not immediately tell your parents about your interaction with Pantalone when you finally returned, as once again they were in the midst of an argument. Your mother’s scoldings about how your father knows better, and your father’s arguments about how you’re a grown man who should fend for himself by now could be heard the moment you stepped through the door. Colleen gives you an awkward, sympathetic smile as you shuck off your coat. Before the maid can hang it up, you fish the letter from your pocket, and seeing your name in the Guuji Yae’s handwriting fills you with nervous excitement once more. 
You can’t really hear the fighting from your study. If you try to listen, you can, but otherwise it is very peaceful. You open the letter again and set it next to your typewriter, while also tucking the briefcase with your manuscript under your desk. You proceed to load your typewriter, ready to type a response, when it occurs to you that maybe you should hand write this letter. Would it be disrespectful to just type a letter? Maybe. A handwritten letter is more personal, after all. 
By the time you finish your letter, there are six other letters crumpled up in your bin, and you hear your mother’s voice informing you that it’s dinner time. The tense atmosphere of dinner keeps you from talking, let alone telling your parents about Pantalone. You really don’t want to set off yet another argument with how much these two have grown apart. As horrible as it is to think or say, you will not be surprised if the word divorce comes up in their next fight, and that next fight is probably tomorrow. 
This tense silence continues the next day, and the day after that, until a full two weeks have passed where you have not heard a single argument. Not because your parents made up, mind you, but because they have barely spoken to each other. Nothing beyond standard small talk or informing the other person about meals or receiving something in the mail. The air is oppressive, and you try not to let it show how much it is starting to stress you out. Instead, you have been waiting patiently for a letter back from the Guuji, hoping to surprise them with some good news for once. 
(You’ve also been replaying your last interaction with Pantalone in your head, because you know you did not mishear him.)
The silence breaks when your father throws your bedroom door open one morning, when you are in the midst of getting changed out of your sleepwear. 
“You!”
You jump, having just put on your pants. Your face heats up in embarrassment. “Would it kill you to knock?” you snap. It’s not even ten. 
You hear your mother somewhere behind your father. “Darling, calm down.”
Your father storms inside and an envelope is shoved in your face. “Do you care to explain this?”
You step back and take the envelope. You rub your eyes, shoot your dad a dirty look, and read the envelope. That’s your name and address, but you don’t recognize the return address in the corner. The name, however, you do recognize, and your father does too.
“Why is it that I haven’t had contact with the Regrator in two weeks,” your father asks, “but when I finally get a letter back, it’s for you?”
“Yes, why is Pantalone writing to you?” your mother asks in turn. 
Your brow furrows, and with your father glaring daggers at you, you break the seal on the back of the letter. Before you can actually open it, your dad snatches the letter from you. He tosses the envelope aside and unfolds the paper within. 
“Hey!” You grab your father’s arm. “If you’re going to barge into my room, at least let me read my own mail!”
“There has to be some mistake,” your father says. “There’s no reason for the Regrator to talk to you.”
“While I disagree with his approach,” your mother says, “your father has a point.”
“Maybe if you let me read my mail, I could tell you,” you reply sarcastically. Your father rolls his eyes but hands the now crinkled letter back to you. You straighten it out and let your eyes scan over the words.
Your father’s voice is impatient. “Well?” 
You squint. “It’s an invitation.”
“An invitation?” your mother asks.
“What the hell for?” your father asks.
“An invitation for tea,” you answer, “for… tomorrow, at two.”
“Anything else?”
You flip the paper over. It’s blank. You flip it back over. “No, it’s just tea at two at his estate.”
“No, you fool,” your dad says, pulling the letter out of your hand again. “I meant if he mentions your sister or myself, because I find it hard to believe he’d invite you to his estate.”
You cross your arms. “Why’s that?”
“Your father means it’s odd that you would be invited over when you are not, ah, working with him,” your mother says, making up an excuse on the fly. “You’re not working with your father and sister, so if you were to be invited over, then that would include the rest of the family.” Though she’s out of your limited line of vision, you know she’s glaring at your father based on the way he averts his eyes from you.
“Then why is it addressed to him? It doesn’t address anyone else in the family.”
“I’m not sure, dear. Perhaps there’s been a mistake?”
“Pantalone would not make a mistake like this. Perhaps the post office lost our invites, but not his.”
“Or he just invited me,” you butt in.
Your father gives you a look. 
“Think about it,” you say, “if we all got an invite, surely mine would have said something about it, right? Hope to see you and your family, or something along those lines.”
“Perhaps mine would have it,” your father retorts, “as he’s my business partner.”
More like marriage partner at this point, you think and know better than to say. “You’re also assuming this has anything to do with work,” is what you say instead. “What if it’s just tea?”
“No, a man like him wouldn’t invite someone over for just tea,” your mother says. 
Your father goes to put your invitation in his pocket, but gives it back to you when your mom gives him a look. He clears his throat. “Well, we’ll have this sorted when we visit tomorrow.”
You blink. “Wait, what?” 
“We’re not going to just turn down this invitation,” your father says, as if you’re an idiot for not understanding what he was getting at. 
“We? We?”
“That’s right,” your mother chimes in, “we really shouldn’t go if we don’t know his intentions.”
“That’s not…” You groan, annoyed. You point at your father. “You aren’t on the invite.” You turn and point to your mother. “And we’ve talked about the coddling.”
Your mother shakes her head. “That was about when he visits us, I don’t want you alone at his estate.”
“No, no, we’re not getting into the semantics,” you say, “I have told you time and time and time again to stop treating me like I’m seven! I should be allowed to go have tea with someone else by myself.”
“Watch your tongue,” your father snaps, “and our decision is final. If you want to go to the Regrator’s for tea, then your mother and I are going as well.” He turns to walk off, and stops in the doorway. “And put a damn shirt on.”
The door slams shut, leaving you and your mother in your room. She offers you an apologetic smile, and gets the hint you want space when you pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. Her exit is much quiet, a soft apology and a gentle closing of the door. 
It takes you a moment, but you manage to find the envelope your father carelessly tossed aside. It slid most of the way under your bed, only the corner of it is immediately visible. You pick it up and feel your heart thump in your chest.
So this is what your name looks like in his handwriting.
----
While the novelty of Pantalone’s social status has worn off, the estate that comes into view through the snowstorm is a reminder of his intimidating wealth. It’s a beautiful building, and significantly larger than your family home. Your eyes are glued to the sight of it through the covered sled’s window. You can also just see your mother looking at it as well through the reflection of the glass. 
“Remember what we talked about,” your father says, and you make a face of annoyance similar to the face your mother’s reflection makes. “Hey, are you listening?”
“Don’t touch, trip on, or break anything,” you reply, “and only speak when spoken to. I’m aware of the whole routine.”
“And watch the attitude.”
“And you remember what I told you,” you reply, not bothering to turn your head. “If it turns out Pantalone didn’t invite you over, you need to leave.”
“Look at me when you talk to me.”
There’s a thump. Your mother most likely gave your father a nudge with her foot. Silence takes up the last few minutes of the ride as it slows to a stop right outside the snowy steps. You slide over to the opposite end of your seat and open the door, sucking all the warmth out of the sled. You make no effort to wait for your parents before you step down from the stairs. The snow pelting you in the face diminishes your vision, so you only make it a few steps before you trip on the first step. You catch yourself before you tumble forward and smash your teeth into the stairs. 
You hear your mother’s voice from the sled. “Please be careful!” 
You shout back that you’re fine, and climb up the stairs. Pantalone must have just had the steps cleared off before the blizzard hit, as there’s no crunch beneath your feet, merely the puff of snowflakes puffing out of the way with each step you take. Your father calls for you to wait for them as you stand before the door. You grab one of the large knockers and give it a few hard knocks on the door.
You feel your father’s firm hand on your shoulder just as a gust of heat rushes out and envelops you. You find yourself standing face to face with an older gentleman dressed in pristine servant’s attire. The two of you lock eyes, and for a moment he offers a welcoming smile before he notices you’re not alone, then it becomes confusion.
“Oh, hello there,” he says, “this is a little unexpected.”
“We’re here for tea with the Regrator,” your father butts in before you can even open your mouth.
“I had assumed as much, but I was told we were expecting a single visitor,” the man says. He brings his gaze back to you. “Now, you fit the description, but these two–”
Somewhere behind the man, you hear Pantalone’s voice. “Fyodor, what’s going on? Why have you not let our guest inside?”
The man turns around to address his master. “Apologies, my lord, but there seems to be some sort of… misunderstanding?”
You hear heeled footsteps descending a flight of stares and across the floor before your host comes into view. You feel yourself salivate and swallow it down quickly. You’re so used to seeing him in mostly black clothing, so the white lace up shirt with puffy sleeves immediately catches your eye. It’s tucked into a pair of black corset pants, which you make a point to not look at either. His hair is not tied back, and the chain on his glasses seems different. Though he still has his rings, he’s not wearing his gloves. Even in more “casual” attire, the Regrator is the pinnacle of wealth and beauty.
This very beautiful man tilts his head at the sight of your parents, namely your father. “What are you doing here?”
“You… You invited us to tea,” your father says.
“No I didn’t.”
Your father is quiet, and you turn yourself to see the confusion on his face. “You sent an invitation, i-it had our address on it.”
“Yes, and I believe I put your son’s name on it, did I not?” Pantalone asks. When you turn back around to him, you find he’s looking right at you. 
“You did, b-but I presumed you… you forgot to mention us, or maybe the invitations for my wife and I got lost in the–”
Pantalone lifts his hand, silencing your father. “If that were the case, I would have either addressed it to your family as a whole on the envelope, or I would have mentioned it in the invitation itself. Likewise, I did not send this through the post office, I had one of my staff deliver it personally.”
“But, b-but I’m your business partner!”
Pantalone turns to you. “Did you invite them with you?”
You stumble on your words, feeling too humiliated to answer honestly. What’s worse, saying yes, or saying no, but your parents wouldn’t let you leave unless they came along like they were chaperoning a child’s first field trip or playdate? You manage a shake of your head, and fortunately Pantalone seems to understand your plight after having many interactions with your family.
He sighs, and steps aside. “You’ve already made the trip, and the weather is taking a turn for the worst,” he relents, “you may come in.”
Your father pushes past and marvels at the interior of Pantalone’s estate. Your mother gives you an assuring pat on your shoulder. Pantalone whispers something to Fyodor, who nods and goes to help your parents with their coats.
The door shuts behind you, and you turn to Pantalone. You clasp your gloved hands together and lower your voice. “I am so sorry, I tried to tell them–”
“I know,” he replies in a voice as soft as yours, “perhaps I should have seen this coming, but I didn’t think I would need to be more specific in the invitation.”
With that, Pantalone stands up and claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Once you’re all settled, please follow me for a short tour on the way to the tea room.” He turns to Fyodor, who is carrying your parents’ coats. “Fyodor, please be a dear and let the chefs know to prepare some extra refreshments for our unexpected company.”
Fyodor nods, and you give him your coat before he leaves. Your mother is already hovering right next to you protectively, and Pantalone gives you a subtly sympathetic smile, which your mother seemingly interprets as an underlying threat judging by the way she wraps her arm around yours. You imagine your father is rolling his eyes.
The tour is short as promised, only staying in any given room long enough for Pantalone to state what the purpose of it is. You pass through the dining room, where Pantalone points out the doors to the kitchen, before you’re in a corridor passing by a ballroom entryway. You try to have a look at the oddly macabre paintings your host has displayed on the walls, but your mother is practically dragging you along so she can get this event over with quicker. You want to ask questions about what the chandelier in the foyer is made of, but your father already asked that in his never ending ramblings of praise for Pantalone and probably isn’t going to stop so you can actually ask the man anything.
Your father finally shuts up and your mother lets your arm go when the four of you step inside the tea room. Something you notice immediately is, while there are paintings on the walls, a table in the centre of the room, and a large cabinet with various tea sets, there is actually very little decor and furniture here. You passed by some sculptures and house plants and other miscellaneous extravagant pieces on the way, but the small room is oddly empty compared to the corridor just outside. 
When Pantalone takes a seat, your parents end up taking a seat on either side of him. Your father is immediately praising the barely furnished room, while your mother acts as barrier. As such, you end up seated across from him. On cue, you hear two people come in through the door behind you. You hear a soft squeaking, and a servant pushing a cart with a tea set on top of it. The porcelain teapot and cups have a vaguely floral pattern, with the handles shimmering with gold leaf. You jump when the second person, another servant, comes up beside you with a tray of food to place on the table. Your father marvels as they get to work setting the table, your mother politely thanks the staff, and you just sit still as your cup of tea is poured.
“This is quite lovely, Pantalone,” your father says for the millionth time, “really, I expect nothing less from you!”
Pantalone gives your father a smile, a polite gesture that does not reach his eyes. “I’m flattered.” When he looks your way, his smile seems fonder. “How about you? You seem to have something on your mind.”
“Oh! Um…” You lean back and glance around the room once more. “I was just… curious about your decor.”
Pantalone tilts his head curiously. “Oh? And what would you like to know?”
You hesitate to answer out of fear you would offend the man.
“Well? Out with it,” your father remarks.
“This room is a little bit… um…”
“Bare?” Pantalone finishes. “Yes, I had some of the furniture moved around in preparation for your arrival.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your eye condition,” he answers, “you said you used to trip on furniture because you didn’t see it, correct? I figured with a room this size, it would be safer to move some of the decor out of the room while you were visiting.”
“Oh, that’s… actually rather sweet,” you say, “b-but unnecessary. I’m not as clumsy as I used to be.”
“Ah, yes, my suit can attest to that fact.”
You chuckle.
Your father chimes in. “Yes, it’s better we avoid any more expensive accidents.”
Pantalone hums. “While I would rather avoid paying for a replacement or repair job, I was more focused on ensuring your son’s safety. I would hate for my guest to get hurt at an event I invited him to.”
You pick up on his passive aggressive comment, and your father does not. That, or he’s elected to ignore it. “Ah, that too,” your father says. He gestures to your mother. “I would have never heard the end of it if that were the case!”
Your father was expecting someone to laugh. He is ignored by Pantalone and gets glared at by your mother. You just grab a couple pastries, honestly wishing you had just turned down the invite altogether.
Your father clears his throat. “So, about that thing I-I had proposed a few weeks ago–”
“How is the book deal?” Pantalone asks you.
“O-Oh,” you stammer, not expecting him to bring up your book, “well, I’ve decided to go for it, and I’ve written back saying I would like to move forward with the deal. Now I’m just waiting for them to get back to me.”
Pantalone smiles and nods. “That’s lovely to hear.”
Your mother looks at you, confused. “What is he talking about?”
Fuck. You swallow, and nervously, sheepishly smile. “Right, um… I was, ah, saving this for when the deal was finalized, but my book might be getting published now.”
“By who?”
“... The Yae Publishing House.”
Your mother’s squeal could shatter porcelain. “The Yae Publishing House?! Sweetheart, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
You awkwardly laugh, avoiding Pantalone’s knowing gaze. “They’re just s-such a big deal, you know? I didn’t want to get your hopes up before I knew for certain they were going t-to publish the book.”
“Still, you could have at least told me you sent your book to them! Oh, goodness, I’m getting all worked up now. My sweetheart, being published by the Guuji Yae…”
Pantalone chuckles. “Yes, quite exciting. It warms my heart to see hard work being recognized.”
“I’m very excited,” your mother says, “he hasn’t told me what his new book is about, he keeps telling me to wait until it gets published. I was worried I’d never get to read it when your first deal was cancelled!”
You sheepishly rub the back of your neck. “This one’s kind of, well, different from my usual writing. I wasn’t sure how people would react to it.”
“Your stories are lovely, sweetie,” your mother insists, “you should never worry about what your mother thinks because I will always support you.”
You hear your father lean over in his chair towards Pantalone, and in a room of four people, his whisper is very audible. “He was worried he would have to get a real job, haha.”
“Which would be difficult given my disability,” you add, “seeing as most jobs require you to have awareness of your surroundings, and my eyesight is only going to continue degrading.”
Your father glares, and clears his throat. “... It was a joke.”
“And it wasn’t very original.”
“You’re also one to talk, considering our little deal,” Pantalone remarks. Your mother looks at your father for an explanation, to which he just sips his tea, embarrassed. 
The rest of the afternoon isn’t less awkward. The momentary embarrassment does not stop your father from badgering Pantalone with questions about what he’s been doing the past two weeks (settling some financial matters in Liyue), and praising him for the pastries he’s provided. Pantalone answers out of politeness, but his responses grow shorter and shorter every time your father opens his mouth. Your mother just silently eats, disinterested in conversing with the Regrator. You try to engage in conversation with Pantalone, but despite glares from everyone at the table, your father continues to interrupt you or answer questions Pantalone could not have more clearly directed towards you. You also just keep your answers short, not wanting to divulge too much about your book or true thoughts in front of your parents. 
Your father pops the last cream puff in his mouth. He’s already eaten most of them. There is no more tea, bringing the meeting to a close.
Pantalone claps his hands together. “Well, this has been a meeting!”
“We appreciate the invitation, Lord Pantalone,” your father says.
“What invitation?” Pantalone asks. “Remember? You two never received an invite.”
“... Right.”
Pantalone leans forward, propping his head up in his hands. He’s looking right at you, and he smiles so sweetly. “Would you care to stay for dinner?”
“Oh, we couldn’t possibly overstay our welcome.”
Pantalone nods, acknowledging your father. He then looks back at you. “So? Would you care to stay?”
“We just said no,” your mother says.
“That’s fine, you two are free to leave. I’m talking to your son.”
Your mother and father lock eyes, before your father turns back to Pantalone. “Wait, why are you asking him if he wants to stay, but not us?”
Pantalone sighs, and grins at your father. “Well, I think I’ve played host to you two long enough, so I’ll tell you honestly.” At that, Pantalone drops his smile. The atmosphere immediately grows tense as he speaks, his voice cold. “I invited your son to my home because I wanted to discuss his upcoming book over tea. I did not invite you over to discuss work matters on my day off. Now, I would like to have the discussion I cleared my schedule for, and I would like to do it with the guest I actually invited.”
Your father balks, while you feel your jaw drop to the table and your eyes go as wide as saucers. You slowly turn towards your mother, and she is immediately seething. She stands up, her chair scraping on the floor. Pantalone smiles at you once more.
“So will you be staying for dinner? I have many questions about your writing process.”
“I–”
“Absolutely not,” your mother snaps. She grabs your arm hard and attempts to pull you up to your feet. Your father is torn between being shocked over being called out for his behaviour, humiliated for being scolded like a child, and incensed that your invitation did not extend towards him. Your mother tugs your arm again, and you stand up so you can better shake her off your arm.
“We’re leaving,” your father says. “Come along, you two.”
You brush some crumbs off your lap and sit back down.
Your father shakes your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me? I said we’re leaving.”
“Have fun,” you reply dryly, “I’ll be home late.”
Pantalone absolutely beams. “Oh, wonderful!”
You flinch at your mother’s shrill voice. “No, you’re not! I am not leaving you with this disrespectful–”
“Violka, he has made up his mind,” your father growls. You feel him glaring daggers into the back of your head, and do not move. You hear your mother start to protest, but then the door shuts behind you.
Pantalone lifts a small plate up off the table. On it is the final little piece of cherry bublanina. He offers it to you with a sly smirk, like forbidden fruit. 
With this in mind, you take it.
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scary-grace · 3 months
Text
Enough to Go By (Chapter 10) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
Chapter 10
The feeling of hollowness doesn’t wear off. Not through the rest of your shift at work. Not through the class on the assessment and treatment of major trauma you’re taking, although you managed to take notes that will hopefully be legible later. It doesn’t feel even slightly better until you’re home, out of sight from everyone, where you can let the mask drop. It’s hard to wear it all the time. You’re getting tired.
Inside your apartment, you look around for Tenko, but he’s not in the kitchen, the living room, or the bathroom. Maybe he changed his mind about coming back. You head to your bedroom, stripping off your work clothes and throwing them into your laundry basket as you go. You did laundry a few days ago. The basket shouldn’t have much in it. But something catches your eye, and when you peer in for a look, you see a set of black clothes that looks a little too familiar for the fact that it’s not yours.
You realize whose it is in the same second as you hear a strangled sound from behind you, and the question bursts out of you at a volume that’s probably too high. “Tenko?”
“I’m not looking,” Tenko snaps. You glance over your shoulder and find him without the model hand and with both gloved hands covering his face. “Do you just start taking your clothes off the second you get home?”
“Usually there’s nobody in my apartment!”
“I told you I’d be back. Did you not believe me?” Tenko’s still averting his eyes, but he’s lowered his hands for the purpose of crossing his arms over his chest, which draws your attention to what he’s wearing. “Why are you staring?”
You can’t stop yourself. “Those are my clothes.”
“So? They fit. I have to wash mine and I don’t have anything else.”
You do buy your sleeping clothes oversized, and the difference between your height and Tenko’s isn’t enormous, but it’s still weird to see him sitting on your side of the bed, wearing a pair of your grey sweatpants that have seen better days and a tie-dyed shirt you made in high school. It’s undeniably bizarre, but – “You look cute.”
“I’m not cute. Don’t say weird things.” Tenko’s turning red. “Are you going to put on clothes or what? I want to talk to you.”
“Just a second.” You were going to put on your pajamas, but Tenko’s wearing them. You pick out another pair, change quickly, and come back, sitting down on the other side of your bed. “What did you want to talk –”
Tenko kisses you, cutting you off. In no time at all he’s rolled you beneath him, pinning you back against the pillows while his mouth opens against yours. His kisses are messy, his hands eager as they alight briefly on your shoulder, against your cheek, molding to the curve of your jaw or gripping hard at your hip. Tenko’s breathing is uneven, almost hyperventilating. He needs to slow down.
But you remember what he said the night the League stayed over: I don’t know how to do this. You’re going to have to show me. So in spite of the fact that he’s got you pressed to the pillows and his hands are all over you, you raise your hands to cradle his face, giving you more control over the kiss. Something about it seems to agree with him. He matches your pace, the sloppiness evening out, then deepening into longer, more involved kisses. His lips split again, but in fewer places than before, you think. The taste of blood in your mouth is lighter this time.
One of Tenko’s hands slides beneath your shirt and you draw back slightly. “I thought you wanted me to put clothes on.”
“I’m not saying take them off,” Tenko insists. “I just want – come on, please –”
You’re not sure what he’s asking for. He’s not even trying to do anything. Then it clicks. “You’re touch-starved.”
“What? No.” Tenko objects instantly, but he’s not a good liar. He can’t make eye contact, and his face, flushed before, is turning darker – and as if that wasn’t enough evidence, his hands are still in motion, seeking points of contact, places to hold on. “I need to touch my girlfriend. That’s not weird.”
You try to figure out if girlfriend is a step up or a step down from sidekick. “So I’m not your sidekick anymore?”
“Of course you are.” Tenko gives you an exasperated look. “Saying I need to touch my sidekick is weird.”
Your brain supplies you with the image of any of the top ten heroes telling the world that they need to touch their sidekicks, and you start laughing. Your laughter’s a little wheezier than usual, courtesy of Tenko’s weight on you, but it feels good to laugh. It’s not like you haven’t laughed at all since Kamino, but laughing with others is different. When you laugh with Tenko, your guilt doesn’t matter. He’s guilty, too. And if it doesn’t bother him, then it shouldn’t bother you.
Tenko watches you suspiciously. “What are you laughing about?”
“What would happen if Endeavor started his next interview talking about how much he needs to touch his sidekicks.”
“That’s disgusting.” Tenko’s expression twists, but he’s laughing, too. “Don’t bring up heroes. It kills the mood.”
“Does it?” You’re still cradling his face in your hands. You leave one hand where it is, cupping his cheek, and lower the other, tracing your fingers over the lines of his throat and running along his shoulder. Your touch is light as your fingers run down the back of his arm, avoiding anywhere ticklish until you’re touching the bare skin of his forearm. He’s thin enough that you can feel his muscles tense at your touch. “I don’t think so.”
“It does,” Tenko says. You kiss his birthmark, then his jaw, and feel him swallow hard. “It does. They ruin everything.”
Even as he complains, he’s tilting his head, exposing more of his neck for you to kiss. “It doesn’t feel like they’re ruining everything,” you say. You lift your other hand away from his forearm and slip it beneath his shirt, and he makes a sound through clenched teeth when you drag your fingers along his bare skin, just above his waistband. “You can admit it. I won’t tell anyone.”
Tenko’s body tenses, stiffens. “Admit what?”
“That making out with me is so good that even heroes can’t ruin it.”
Tenko laughs, a raspy, startled sound that trails off into a rough gasp as your teeth scrape over his neck. “I’ll admit that,” he says. His hips roll forward and you shift your legs apart so he can fit between them. “You can tell everybody. They’ll be jealous that I’m the only one who gets to –”
His hips jerk sharply. The sweatpants don’t leave anything to the imagination as far as his erection goes, and you startle at the pressure between your legs and the flood of heat that accompanies it. You pull away from kissing his neck, conscious that you’ve already left a mark, and kiss his mouth again.
His kisses devolve into messiness almost immediately, but this time you’re with him, as your priority shifts to finding a way to improve the sensation of grinding against him through your clothes. You’ve had some experience, made out with twice as many people as you’ve slept with, but you’ve never had a makeout quite as hot as this one. Tenko’s gloved hands clutch desperately at you, the needy sounds he makes muffled by your lips. You drag your fingernails the length of his spine and lift your hips up against his. Tenko whimpers, shudders. Then he pulls away.
Not just partially away, either. He’s all the way out of your grip, curled in on himself, every visible inch of his skin red. “Tenko,” you say, and he shakes his head. “What’s wrong?”
“We have to stop. Or I’ll –” Tenko makes a sharp, uncomfortable gesture. “Like some kind of –”
“Virgin?” You fill in the blank, and Tenko nods. “That’s not a bad thing, Ten.”
“You have experience.”
“Like, two condoms’ worth of experience,” you say, and Tenko snorts. He’s still too far away from you, but he’s not quite so folded up. “We can stop and do something else. Or I can make you come.”
Tenko stares at you for a second. Then he starts nodding – but just as quickly, he’s adding a caveat. “Don’t look. At my face. I don’t want –”
He’s embarrassed about his O face. You wonder if he actually knows what it looks like, or if he’s just assuming it’s weird. You can’t imagine him jerking off in front of a mirror to check. But this is workable. You part your legs further. “Sit here. Lean back against me.”
Tenko does it, and you situate yourself around him. You can’t see his expression, but you can kiss his cheek and his jaw and his neck, and your hands have free rein over his body. The urge to take your time getting to know him, to run your hands slowly over every inch of him until you know exactly how to make him squirm, is almost overpowering. But if you do that, he might come before you even touch his cock.
Speaking of that – you tug lightly at his waistband, and Tenko pulls the borrowed sweatpants partway down with shaking hands, along with the pair of clean but very old underwear he’s wearing. The first thing you note, inconsequential as it is, is that while the hair on his head is that odd blue-grey shade, his pubic hair is dark, like all his hair was when you were children. The second thing that captures your attention is his cock, hard and already leaking slightly at the tip.
You fight the urge to take him in hand immediately. You slide one hand down to his exposed hip, rubbing your thumb idly over the sharp crest of bone while making it clear where your objective really is. “Can I touch you?”
“Uh – yeah.” Tenko coughs, his voice already strained. “Yeah. Go ahead. Please.”
“I want to do this. You don’t have to say please.” You’re surprised by just how badly you want to touch him, how much you want him to fall apart in your hands, just for you, only for you. “Do you want to show me how to touch you? Or should I learn as I go?”
“You didn’t give me a tutorial about kissing. You don’t get one, either.”
“Fair enough.” You gently press your lips against the side of Tenko’s neck, then move the hand that was on his hip to fit around his cock instead.
Tenko jumps, shudders at your touch, and you move your hand cautiously, stroking the length of his shaft, swiping your thumb over the head the same as you’d do with your tongue. Tenko moans, a low desperate sound that drives a spike of heat through your abdomen, and you repeat the motion again. You kiss the side of his neck, lightly at first, then longer, lingering on the texture of the scar tissue under your lips.
Tenko’s back arches, his head falling back against your shoulder. “Faster,” he says, and you increase your pace. “Like that. More –”
He’s shaking. You feel it at every point where your bodies are pressed together. One of his hands grasps your thigh, hanging on for dear life, and you feel a sharp surge of pain, but your attention’s caught by Tenko’s other hand, still gloved, covering his mouth. You can’t let that happen. Not when he makes such pretty sounds. You peel his hand away from his mouth, press it to yours instead. Tenko gasps, shudders. His hips thrust unevenly into your hand, and he comes.
You slow down – the first time you gave a handjob, the guy snapped at you for not easing up fast enough – but Tenko shakes his head, almost frantically. “Not yet. Don’t stop –”
You keep touching him, as requested, drawing out smaller spurts of cum than the first, as he squirms and twitches and makes increasingly pained sounds. It worries you. “Tenko –”
“Stop.” Tenko’s voice breaks. He slumps back against you, his grip on your thigh loosening. “You – sorry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you say. You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for. “Overstimulation – is that something you’re into?”
“No. I just – you’re never going to do that again, so I wanted it to last.”
“Tenko –” You struggle to wrap your head around what he just said. It doesn’t make any sense. “Of course I’m going to do it again.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not,” you say. “I’d do it again right now.”
“You wouldn’t. I thought it would be okay if you didn’t look at me but then I made all those stupid sounds –”
“I thought those were really hot.”
Tenko coughs. “What?”
“I like them. I like everything about what we just did.” You’re not sure if it’s possible to overstate this, and you’re not sure how to convince him, except – “If you want to touch me, too, I can prove it.”
You’ve barely finished the sentence before Tenko’s twisting to face you, pulling up his sweatpants one-handed. You get a look at his expression before he leans in to kiss you, just enough to confirm that there’s nothing weird about it at all. He pulls at the waistband of your pants. “Take them off.”
You pull them down, leaving them hooked around one ankle. Tenko studies the pair of underwear you’re wearing. They aren’t anything special. You wonder if he’s going to comment on that, or on how visibly damp they are, but instead he reaches out, touches you through them. A second later his eyes light up. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did.” Your fingers are still sticky with his cum. You think about wiping them off on your shirt, then change your mind and suck your fingers clean, swallowing in a hurry and noting the way Tenko’s jaw drops. “I told you. It was – hot –”
Tenko sits forward to kiss you, his mouth sealed to yours as his hand presses flat against your stomach and slides beneath the waistband of your underwear. The texture of his exposed fingertips is rough enough to make you startle as they slide past your clit, but that’s not on his radar at the moment – he’s too busy probing around in the wetness between your legs, fingers brushing maddeningly close to your entrance before finally pushing inside. He starts with two fingers, not one, which is a stretch, but not quite more than you can handle. You gasp, and his lips curve into that too-wide smile against yours.
Tenko’s overenthusiastic at first, just like he was with kissing the first time, and you catch his wrist. “Slower,” you say. He nods. “Curl your fingers a little bit.”
“Like that?”
Your legs are starting to shake. You nod, and Tenko does it again, and again. His other hand yanks the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down and out of the way. With more room to maneuver, the angle of his fingers changes, increasing the pressure against the most sensitive place inside you and bringing the heel of his hand into contact with your clit every time he works his fingers forward. You’re so wet that there’s next to no resistance. His gloves are going to be ruined.
You feel hot all over. Your nipples are hard, visible through your shirt, and Tenko’s free hand is under your shirt within seconds of noticing it. He circles one of them with his thumb, then rolls it between thumb and forefinger, and the roughness of his fingertips makes even the gentlest motions all too intense. “Tenko –”
“What else?” Tenko’s eyes are intent on your face in a way that almost makes you uncomfortable. “I can do more. Tell me what else.”
“Kiss me.” It’s all you can think of, all you want, and Tenko’s mouth crashes down against yours as soon as the words have left it. You wrap your arms around his neck, take a loose grip in his hair, and stop fighting the wave of pleasure sweeping through you. Every muscle in your body clenches, tight and straining, through thrust after thrust of his fingers – and then the heel of Tenko’s hand presses against your clit for a second too long, and you fall apart, head spinning. You clutch Tenko closer, kissing him until you have to pull away to breathe.
Tenko’s fingers slip out of you, and even though you’re oversensitive to an almost painful degree, you whimper at the loss. Tenko notices, smirks – no, smiles. “Don’t worry. I’m definitely doing that again.”
It makes you laugh. “So you’re convinced?”
“Yeah.” Tenko raises his fingers to his mouth and sniffs them, then tastes them. He’s grinning when he lowers his hand again. “I’d say we leveled up.”
Your face flushes, and worse when you see how much moisture is still clinging to his fingers. “Sorry about your gloves.”
“I’ll just wash my hands.” Tenko looks like he’s never been less concerned about anything in his life. “Don’t go anywhere.”
You’re not sure your legs would hold you up, and Tenko looks a little shaky himself as he slides off the bed and heads to your bathroom. You think about putting your underwear back on, but they’re way too wet, and you throw them into your laundry basket without getting up. You still feel too warm to put your sweatpants back on, so you pull the hem of your shirt down and stretch out on the bed anyway. Tenko comes back a moment later. He looks pleased to see that you haven’t left – but then his expression sharpens. “What is that?”
You don’t know what he’s referring to. You give him a puzzled look, and he sits down on the edge of the bed, yanking your leg roughly into his lap. “These. Where did these come from?”
These – the three raw marks in your thigh, not scratches, more like burns or sores. They’re not so much bleeding as oozing. You remember the sharp pain in your leg when Tenko grabbed it, something you’d written off in the moment. “I think you. You were holding on.”
“That’s not how my quirk works,” Tenko says sharply. “It takes all five. And I can’t stop it when – it can’t have been. You’d be dead.”
“No. You’ve used your quirk on me before and I’m still here.”
“I didn’t,” Tenko snaps. “You wouldn’t be. You’d –”
He breaks off, because you’ve pulled up your sleeve. The injury to your wrist on the night you saw Tenko for the first time was healed before the sun came up, but the scar is still visible – jagged furrows in your skin, extending around your wrist from five points of contact. Tenko stares, jaw clenched, eyes wide, and you think through what you know about his quirk. It’s called Decay. It only activates when all five of his fingers make contact with something, or it’s supposed to. And based on what he’s saying now, it’s supposed to function as a chain reaction, something that can’t be stopped once it’s triggered. Except it can be stopped. He has stopped it, both of the times he’s used it on you.
Tenko’s expression twists in a way that looks agonizing. Both his hands lift from his sides, clawing hard at his neck, but only one of them stays there. The other comes up to scratch at his face instead, to yank hard at his own hair, to tear into the skin above his right eye, in the same spot as his scar. You’ve seen him melt down before, when you were kids, when he got too stressed or too upset or when something had gone wrong at home and someone had asked him about what happened. But never anything like this. It’s horrifying. You can’t just sit here and watch.
“Tenko, stop. Please.” You keep your voice calm, even as it shakes. You catch his wrist with both hands, ignoring the hand scratching his neck in favor of dealing with the one that’s tearing at his face. “You don’t need to do that. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Tenko doesn’t answer. His eyes are glazed, and he’s fighting you, stronger than you. His neck is bleeding. Soon his face will be, too, unless you keep his hand away. You keep talking, senselessly. “You don’t have to hurt yourself. Please don’t, Tenko –”
One of his nails bites deep into the side of his neck. Too deep. A spurt of blood comes up, and something in your mind snaps. You let go of his wrist with one hand and cover the marks on his neck, taking his scratches on the back of your hand instead. His blood is hot against your palm, and you fight down a surge of panic. You can’t stop him. He can hurt himself badly, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You don’t even know why he’s this upset. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. Whatever it is, it’s not worth –”
Tenko lurches away from you, tearing completely out of your grip, and stumbles to the bathroom. A moment later, you hear him retching. You don’t waste time thinking about what to do next. You get up and chase after him.
The last time you followed him when he was trying to get away from you, he hurt you. This time he’s in no condition to hurt anyone. He’s on his hands and knees vomiting on the bathmat, blood staining the collar of his shirt. The instant the vomiting stops, Tenko slumps forward, and you barely manage to pull him back in time to stop him from going face-first into the mess. He’s almost completely limp when he falls against you. You keep his head and shoulders elevated in case he throws up again and struggle to come up with a plan.
If a patient at the clinic melted down like this, you’d stabilize them and maybe call an ambulance. Stabilizing Tenko is well within your abilities, but you have no idea where this reaction came from, whether it’s within the range of possibilities for him or it came completely out of nowhere. Does that even matter as far as treating him goes? No, you decide. It doesn’t.
You were just learning about treatment for major trauma tonight. You start by checking Tenko’s breathing and heart rate. He’s hyperventilating and his pulse is fast, his skin pale. His eyes are open and his pupils are dilated. The biggest injury to deal with is the claw mark on his neck. You yank a towel off the bathroom counter with one hand and press it against the side of his neck, trying to contain the bleeding, then reach up again and turn the sink on cold. Once it’s as cold as it’ll go, you cup your hand, fill it with water, and splash it into Tenko’s face.
He startles in your arms, tries to lurch upright. “What –”
“It’s just water. Your heart rate’s really high, and I’m trying to bring it down. Cold water activates the diving reflex. That’s all.” You do a better job keeping your voice calm this time. Tenko doesn’t need a quirkless sidekick or a terrified girlfriend right now. He needs a medic. “Your neck is bleeding. I want to fix that before we do anything else. Is that okay?”
Tenko doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t try to get away from you, so you take that as a yes and drag your first-aid kit out from under the sink. Bandaging the wound effectively without letting go of him is difficult, and you’re still watching his heart rate. It’s higher than you want it to be, but not as bad as before. You keep talking, explaining everything you’re doing, not asking  for or expecting any response. You don’t know what triggered this. You need to keep him stable.
By the time you’ve got the wound on Tenko’s neck bandaged, he’s shivering. You’d get him to bed immediately, but his clothes are a mess, and soaked with cold sweat in the bargain. “Let’s get up and get changed, okay? It’ll just take a second.”
Tenko gets to his feet ahead of you, then offers you a hand up. You take it but get up under your own power, and as you do, you see that the gloves are a total loss. You’ll have to figure out something else. You lead Tenko over to your closet, switching out everything he’s wearing for your largest, most comfortable clothes. The only thing you can’t replace is the underwear, and the gloves. Tenko stands there, eyes blank, unmoving but for the shivers, while you try to think of a solution. His quirk is in his fingers, right? Only his fingers. What if you cover them?
Bandaids and medical tape. You cover Tenko’s ring finger and little finger, first on his right hand, then on his left. Tenko doesn’t protest, warn you against his quirk, or offer to help. He just stands there, lifeless, until you link your little finger with his and lead him over to the bed. He gets in on your side without being prompted, then looks up at you. “Are you coming?”
His voice sounds awful, but at least he’s talking again. “In a second,” you promise. “I just need to clean up.”
Part of you is hoping he’ll be asleep when you get back, but the rest of you knows better than to hope for that. You rinse the bathmat out in the shower, then carry it to the washing machine, along with all the clothes in the laundry basket, including everything Tenko just took off. Then it’s your clothes, and while you’re starting the washing machine, you notice the scratches on the back of your hand.
Those need cleaning, too, along with the marks on your thigh. You give up on putting on pants, change into a clean shirt and underwear, and detour to the hall closet for your pocket first-aid kit. The big one is too much for this.
Tenko’s voice follows you. “You’re leaving.”
“No,” you say. On second thought, you need to bring other things, too. You fill a glass with water from the sink and set it down on the bedside table. Then you sit down on the other side of the bed, over the covers. “I’m right here.”
Tenko doesn’t answer, but when you open the first-aid kit, he turns toward the sound. “What are you doing?”
“I just need a band-aid or two.” You regret the words instantly when Tenko sits up. “No, I’m fine. Just rest.”
“I did it.” Tenko’s voice is dull. “I’ll fix it.”
You shouldn’t let him do it. He needs to rest. But if he wants to do things, if he’s doing things under his own power, maybe you shouldn’t stop him. You lift your hands away from the first-aid kit and let him poke through it on his own, working awkwardly around the band-aids covering the tips of his fingers. Tenko starts with the marks on your leg, cleaning them clumsily. When he speaks up, he says the last thing you were expecting to hear. “I should have killed you.”
Your stomach drops. “What do you mean?”
“My quirk doesn’t stop. I can control what I touch, but once it activates, I can’t stop it. When I touched you then, I should have killed you. I should have killed you tonight. Just like I killed them.”
Tenko’s voice is flat, emotionless. Are you in danger? You don’t think so, but there are two questions running through your mind, and you ask the more immediate one, not the more important one. “Did you want to kill me? Tonight or then?”
He threatened to kill you the night you met him again, and it would have been easy for him to follow through, but he didn’t. Tenko shakes his head mechanically. “I never wanted to,” he says, and the relief you feel shames you into silence. “I didn’t want to kill Mon, either.”
You remember Mon. You loved Mon, just like Tenko did – less than Tenko did, because Mon was his dog. You can’t imagine Tenko hurting Mon. But you found what was left of Mon in the wreckage of Tenko’s house. And although you’ve seen the effects of Tenko’s quirk before, you’ve never seen, start to finish, what happens when he uses it on a living being. A terrible thought builds in the back of your mind, gaining speed and power. “Tenko, what do you mean?”
“I wondered if you’d guessed. You never said it, so I thought maybe you had.” Tenko smears Neosporin over the first rotted fingerprint in your thigh – too much Neosporin, just like before. “What happened to my family – I did it. It wasn’t some villain. I’m the one who killed them.”
You didn’t know. Not consciously. But even though the thought’s just occurring to you, it doesn’t feel like a surprise. If a villain had killed Tenko’s family, the Tenko you knew would have wanted to avenge them. But he’s been focused on All Might, on society, not on some other villain. The only way that makes sense is if he knew who it was already, if he’d dealt with them already – or if the person who did it was him.
It’s silent in your apartment. You’ve been silent for too long. “You didn’t know,” Tenko concludes, and you shake your head. “You know how to say things right. Tell me what it means.”
It’s not that you know how to say things right, it’s that you know him. You know how his mind works, know where the connections break, know how to piece it back together. “Your quirk doesn’t stop once it’s activated, but it stopped with me,” you say hesitantly, and Tenko nods. “You didn’t want to hurt me. But you didn’t want to hurt Mon, or – or Hana –”
Hana was your friend, too. Tenko’s loss crushed you so badly that you barely mourned her. “And you couldn’t stop your quirk with them,” you say. Tenko nods again. He’s been trying to open the same band-aid for the last thirty seconds. “You were five years old, Tenko. Nobody can control their quirk that young.”
“Try again.” Tenko doesn’t look up from the band-aid. “If I didn’t kill you and I killed them, then – say it.”
“No.”
“Say it.”
“No.” You’re not going to do this. You’re not going to buy into this idea someone planted in Tenko’s head that he killed his entire family on purpose when he was five years old. You can picture what happened that night in your mind’s eye – how he would have reached out to someone for help, how he wouldn’t have realized until it was too late, how quickly things would have spiraled out of control. “I know what you want me to say. And I know you. So I won’t.”
“Sensei said –”
“He didn’t know you.” The words leave your mouth with more venom than they should. “Not yet. Not that day. I did.”
You remember it so well – not because it was different than any other day with your best friend, but because it was the last day, because you went over every detail of it in your head until it was etched into your memory forever. You’d swapped lunches – he liked the awful onigiri your mom made, and you were always after the expensive snacks his grandma bought. You’d played heroes at recess and kept the game going on your way home from school while Hana walked ahead. Tenko was All Might, again, and that day you were Sir Nighteye, All Might’s sidekick who could see the future.
Nobody knows how Sir Nighteye’s quirk actually works, so you had to make it up, and you made up so that you had to touch the person to see how their future would play out. No matter how many times Tenko tried to get you close to the villain, it never worked, and on the way home, you came up with the perfect solution. “All Might,” you called out, and Tenko turned to look at you, deadly serious. “Give me your hand!”
He held it out, and you seized it in both of yours. “I can’t see his future, but I can see yours,” you said, and the brightest, widest grin crossed Tenko’s face. “You’re going to win.”
“We’re going to win. I can’t do it without you,” Tenko said, in his awful All Might impression that always made you laugh. You let go of his hand, but he didn’t let go of yours. “Tell me how we do it.”
You didn’t mean to, but you held his hand the rest of the way home, while you described the battle with the arch-villain, how it was going to be close but how Tenko would win. You needed to hold on, or you’d lose sight of his future. The two of you were just getting to the good part of the fight when you reached your street, your houses. You were disappointed, and so was Tenko. “Can’t you come over? You have to finish telling me so we can play for real tomorrow.”
You wanted to. You always wanted to, and that day more than ever, because you were holding Tenko’s hand and he hadn’t let go yet, even when you tried to. Even if it was just for the game, you didn’t want it to end. “I could ask –”
But you couldn’t even get the sentence out of your mouth before your mother shouted from across the street. Your name, followed by a brisk order. “You had all day to play around! Get in here and help me!”
Your throat closed up, but you didn’t want to cry. Tenko’s grip on your hand tightened. “We’ll play tomorrow,” he promised. He smiled. Not the All Might smile – the real one, the one that the people he saved were going to see someday and believe in, the one that said everything would be okay. “Keep looking at my future. Tell me how we win.”
“I will,” you said. Your mother shouted again. You squeezed Tenko’s hand and let go. And then you turned, looked both ways, and ran back across the street to your mother.
That was the last time you saw him for fifteen years, and everything might have changed between then and the first time you saw him again, but it can’t change the truth – Tenko’s master didn’t know him then. You did. So you know for sure now.
Tenko can’t hold your gaze. “You’re not right about this. He chose me. He knows.”
“Then we disagree. Nobody ever said we have to agree on everything.” You can’t push too hard. Not tonight. “Maybe you’ll win and convince me one of these days. Or I’ll win and convince you.”
Tenko’s mouth twists, turns down at the corners. He turns his back. “Don’t look.”
You move the first-aid kit out of the way and scoot closer to him, pressing yourself against his back as you wrap your arms around him. “I’m not looking.”
You hold him like that for a long time, not flinching when his hand grips your wrist again, when his palm flattens against the back of your hand to pin it to his chest just over his heart – and when he turns back in your arms, his eyes are clearer than they’ve been since he saw the marks on your leg. He looks exhausted. “Get some sleep,” you tell him. “I’ll be right there. I just have to finish this.”
The marks on your leg still need to be bandaged, and the scratches on the back of your hand are deep enough that you should cover them, too. Tenko shakes his head. “I did it. I’ll fix it. Aftercare, right?”
You smile in spite of yourself. “Sure. Let’s call it that.”
He’s faster at it this time around. He covers the fingerprints on your leg with too much Neosporin and a giant band-aid, then slaps a sterile pad down on the back of your hand and secures it messily with gauze. “Don’t do this again. If I want to tear my own skin up –”
“I’m not going to sit here and watch you get hurt. Even if you’re doing it to yourself.” That’s not up for negotiation, at least not tonight. “Come on. If you want to cuddle, we’ll be more comfortable lying down.”
Appealing to Tenko’s touch-starvation seems to be a winning strategy. As soon as you’re both under the covers, he crawls into your arms, halfway on top of you with his face buried in your shoulder. You hang onto him tightly. Not so tightly that you can’t free one hand to play with his hair, and Tenko makes a sound. You wouldn’t call it contented, but he’s not as tense as before. What he says is muffled by your shoulder, and it comes completely out of left field. “I’m not going to do that every time we hook up.”
You almost laugh. “I know.”
Like he did last night, he falls asleep quickly. You don’t, or can’t. Half of you is scared that if you fall asleep, you’ll wake up to Tenko gone, snatched out of your grip again by All For One. It’s a stupid thought. All For One is in Tartarus, under twenty-four-hour guard – but Kurogiri follows his orders over Tenko’s, and if Kurogiri came for Tenko, there would be nothing you could do. Nothing except hold on tight, and make sure that you and Tenko went wherever he was going together.
Part of what’s keeping you up is fear. The rest is fury, the kind you can barely contain, aimed at a single target. You don’t have a clue about most of what All For One did to try to erase Tenko and replace him with Tomura, but you know the first thing – convincing him that he killed his family on purpose. Tenko’s pursuing the vision of someone who’s tried to destroy him, who’s thrown him into a battle he can’t win. And you’re supposed to help him do it.
You can’t stomach that, but maybe you don’t have to. You don’t have to be loyal to All For One’s vision or to Tenko’s efforts to follow in his footsteps. You just have to be loyal to Tenko, and that’s easy the way breathing is, as unconscious as blinking. After all, you’ve been doing it your whole life.
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blouisparadise · 4 months
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Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of May. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!
1) My Heart's In Overdrive, And You're Behind The Steering Wheel | Explicit | 1,649 words
Being late to class means Harry and Louis have to pose together for figure drawings. That being said, the hate each other, but maybe they don't?
2) It's A Question Of Lust, It's A Question Of Trust | Explicit | 2,258 words
Louis is shaken up after being assaulted at the barricade in Panama City and feels guilty, he can't get it out of his head. Harry knows what he needs to escape the worry. Harry steps over, speaking quietly into his ear. "Good boy, doing as I asked." He looks beautiful, his skin golden, dark nipples puckered, his cock starting to get hard. His breath already ragged. "Not that you always do, eh?" "Sir?" His blue eyes stare at Harry, nervous, uncertain. "Letting those tarts fondle and grope you after each show. When you know you belong to me."
3) If Walls Could Talk | Explicit | 2,394 words
Louis is waiting backstage for Harry after his second show in Coventry. It's their last night together before Louis leaves for his own tour. Harry's mission for the evening is to worship Louis' body and make him see himself through Harry's eyes.
4) In An Octopus's Garden With You | General Audiances | 4,682 words
Autistic alpha Harry, a teacher, spends an overwhelming day on a field trip to the aquarium. Luckily, his omega, Louis, knows just what he needs.
5) I Didn't Have To Search Cuz I Still Know Your Number| Explicit | 5,161 words
As Louis approaches the front of the old flat he sees a light on upstairs in what used to be their master bedroom. A memory flicks through Louis’ mind of Louis spread open on the duvet with Harry between his legs nipping and sucking on his hole while Louis whimpered and writhed, clutching the sheets and moaning out Harry’s name. Louis looks down to see his dick at half mass and sighs. Louis flicks the butt of the cigarette to the ground and pulls his phone back out of his pocket. He exits the Uber app and pulls up his contacts, scrolling down to the H’s until he lands upon Harry’s name in his phone. He pulls up their messages and sees the last time they talked was right after the break up all those years ago. Louis begins to type out a message to Harry, hoping he hasn't changed his number. Louis: U up? (sent at 1:14am)
6) You Have Me | Not Rated | 5,529 words
Louis is escaping his mundane reality, avoiding his fiancée, and going to an anonymous hook up party in the woods. When the mysterious stranger who has been eyeing him all night asks him to come back to his tent, Louis is game for anything. He doesn’t know that he’s going to get an offer he can’t refuse.
7) All My Life | Not Rated | 5,553 words
The four times Harry tries to propose and the one time he gets it right (or does he?)
8) Limping In The Limelight | Explicit | 5,832 words
Harry breaks his accessory navicular during a concert in Birmingham in 2015.
9) I Like to Watch | Explicit | 9,287 words
If there’s one thing Harry loves, it’s watching his husband Louis get fucked by other men. After picking up a lad called Zayn who is baffled by this concept, the three men are in for a wild night.
10) House Husband | Mature | 11,853 words
Louis and Harry are happily married with two beautiful kids. Harry is a lawyer who provides for his family and Louis is his sassy house husband. This is a week in their life.
11) For A Sushi Restaurant | Explicit | 13,345 words
And yet, in the depth of the sea, where water started to go from that sky blue to the dark petrol blue, almost black, of the unknown, creatures moved, ready to attack at a moment’s notice, sleek tails and pale, blueish skin helping them with mimesis. Or, cecaelia Harry and human Louis.
12) Peaches And Soft Myth | Explicit | 36,192 words
“Greta kissed me,” he said at last. It wasn’t the main issue, but it was a start. Louis’ smile was radiant. Eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. Harry’s stomach felt a little funny, wishing he could feel as happy as the cheerleader. "Oh, my god? We did it! I’m a genius ! Was it long? Slow and sensual, full of lust and passion, tongues intertwined—" he gasped. “Did she tremble in your arms?” He hugged himself. “That’s not—” “No one believes me when I say I am a good matchmaker. They are always like, ‘Oh Louis, you have the worst eye for couples and men. You always miss the real connections.’ Who missed now? Not me. Nuh-hu, I saw the potential. Your grumpy attitude did not deter me. I'm probably the greatest matchmaker on campus. Don’t you think?” Louis’ smile faltered. “Wait… why do you look as if you were about to throw up?” “She told me her roommate leaves for a few days after spring break. She invited me to her dorm room.” “Okay?” Louis said slowly. “Am I missing something? Is it about clothes? Because I can totally find something—” Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not about that.” “Then what?” “I…” Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m a virgin.”
13) The Maddest Obsession | Explicit | 100,974 words
One fears the dark. One rules it. Harry Styles, the dangerous mob enforcer, finds himself entangled with Louis, the strong-willed mafia-princess. As they navigate the treacherous underworld of New York, their forbidden love sparks a deadly game of loyalty, betrayal, and passion. Will their devotion to each other overcome the chaos surrounding them, or will their love be their downfall?
14) At Our Seams | Explicit | 185,290 words
Newly mated and happily engaged Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, are moving into a new phase of their lives. Together, their world felt complete. However, the world beyond their bubble has been strung into chaos. Political strife is raiding the streets and oppressive policies are being enacted everyday. Louis is desperate for something to change, to finally set the record straight for omegas and non-soulmate children everywhere. Harry is determined to keep his mate safe, even if it goes against Louis’ wishes. Unfortunately, he can’t control everything, and things quickly fall out of his hands. Who’s this new alpha who’s entered the beloved couple’s life, giving Louis another purpose Harry hadn’t been expecting? What happens when the soulmates don’t exactly see eye to eye? Will the protective alpha get his wishes, or will he concede to his cherished but oh, so stubborn omega? How strong are the seams that bind? Only time will tell.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.
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novelizt · 11 months
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✨ IT'S BEEN WAITING FOR YOU ✨
📸 1989 TV SONGFIC COLLECTION INCLUDING :
tim drake, draco malfoy, peter parker, gojo satoru, percy jackson, anthony lockwood
❗Unfinished prompts are subject to change. Fics with no hyperlinks are coming soon!
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📷 TRACK 1 : Welcome To New York
“ IT'S BEEN WAITING FOR YOU ” — TIM DRAKE
you start life at the big apple and unexpectedly meet a fortune teller who informs you of the name of your future husband. you try not to think too hard about it, but it's difficult. considering your boss has the same name as your future husband.
📷 TRACK 2 : Blank Space
“ DON'T SAY I DIDN'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU ” — DRACO MALFOY
you act like a devil to get your husband to divorce you. only to discover that pushing him away only makes him hold on tighter.
📷 TRACK 3 : Style
“ WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE ” — TIM DRAKE
wayne enterprise heir x stark industries heiress
rivals in public, lovers in secret ; two heirs have an explicit arrangement because they can't risk their public image with anyone else.
📷 TRACK 4 : Out Of The Woods
“ WE WERE IN SCREAMING COLORS ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
you think you're hard to love, but he loves you like it's breathing.
📷 TRACK 5 : All You Had To Do Was Stay
“ ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY ” — DRACO MALFOY
you and draco meet again after he had ignored you years before. he wants to tell you why he'd left but he doesn't know how you'd react to him being a criminal.
📷 TRACK 6 : Shake It Off
“ PLAYERS GONNA PLAY ” — GOJO SATORU
it's embarrassing to know that the rumors about you reach other schools. one faithful day, gojo satoru gives you unsolicited advice about doing the shit you want because you'd get hate whether or not you'd do it anyway. a bottle of wine later, and you begin to think he's right.
📷 TRACK 7 : I Wish You Would
“ I WISH YOU WOULD ” — PETER PARKER
your long-time friendship with peter had gone sour. after years of trying to put you behind bars, peter tries to save you from kraven, but you're not sure if you can trust him anymore.
“ I WISH WE COULD GO BACK AND REMEMBER WHAT WE WERE FIGHTING FOR ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
PEERING EYES OVER WROUGHT-IRON FENCES
📷 TRACK 8 : Bad Blood
“ STILL GOT THE SCARS ON MY BACK FROM YOUR KNIFE ” — DRACO MALFOY
turning from childhood friends to enemies, and then learning to tolerate each other after the war is a storm waiting to happen. especially when he had tried to kill you and failed.
📷 TRACK 9 : Wildest Dreams
“ SAY YOU'LL REMEMBER ME ” — PERCY JACKSON
you and percy agree to only see each other for the summer but as august draws to a close, it gets harder and harder to untangle your fingers from his.
📷 TRACK 10 : How You Get The Girl
“ FOR WORSE OR FOR BETTER ” — PERCY JACKSON
hitman! percy
percy is hired to kill an important man in singapore, not expecting to meet and fall for his target's daughter.
📷 TRACK 11 : This Love
“ THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
you're back in town. as promised, lockwood welcomes you with open arms. the only difficulty was the fact that you kissed the last time you saw each other.
📷 TRACK 12 : I Know Places
“ I KNOW PLACES ” — PETER PARKER
marvel x pjo crossover ; daughter of athena! reader
peter's only trying to protect you but you're more scared of him than you are of the monsters coming after you.
📷 TRACK 13 : Clean
“ I THINK I AM FINALLY CLEAN ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
lockwood was cursed to be alone. you prove that your love can break curses.
📷 TRACK 14 : Wonderland
“ YOU AND I GOT LOST IN IT ” — TIM DRAKE
you and tim are thrown into wonderland by mad mod. the line between fantasy and reality blur; now, tim stares at you like he wishes you weren't enemies.
“ IT'S ALL FUN AND GAMES 'TIL SOMEBODY LOSES THEIR MIND ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
fantasy au!
you were a princess and you liked to dress in gold. one day, you're snatched by a dragon. come to find out that the dragon is a shape-shifting boy who thought you were a statue.
📷 TRACK 15 : You Are In Love
“ TRYING TO PUT IT INTO WORDS ” — TIM DRAKE
it's hard to find the right words to explain why you love tim.
📷 TRACK 16 : New Romantics
“ I CAN BUILD A CASTLE OUT OF ALL THE BRICKS THEY THROW AT ME ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
you recruit the daring anthony lockwood to stage a relationship that will rile up the press.
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— FROM THE VAULT !!
📷 TRACK 17 : "SLUT!"
“ LOVELORN AND NOBODY KNOWS ” — PETER PARKER
a publication comes out, announcing that your hero selves are dating. now, you and peter have to distance yourselves because one, mary jane watson—renowned journalist, has been suspecting you of having an alter ego.
“ IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HE'S A GENTLEMAN ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
lockwood is tasked with the important task of protecting a foreign princess, you. you discovered that you liked his boyish charms more than expected.
📷 TRACK 18 : Now That We Don't Talk
“ THE MORE I GAVE, YOU'D WANT ME LESS ” — CHILDE
how bad can it be, to sleep with the enemy?
📷 TRACK 19 : Say Don't Go
“ I'M YOURS, BUT YOU'RE NOT MINE ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
fantasy au!
you are the heir to the throne, soon to be coronated. he is your loyal guard. when repressed feelings come bubbling to the surface, it's hard to keep away. except, he has to, because a prince should be standing next to you, not him.
📷 TRACK 20 : Suburban Legends
“ BORN TO BE SUBURBAN LEGENDS ” — PETER PARKER
you became strangers when you thought you'd spend your whole lives together. one faithful day, peter gets sucked into an old polaroid picture, returning to the day it was taken; your 18th birthday.
📷 TRACK 21 : Is It Over Now?
“ FAST FORWARD TO 300 TAKEOUT COFFEES LATER ” — PETER PARKER
you and peter agreed to stop whatever was happening between you two for his sake. it wasn't good to date your employer's daughter, after all. the task wasn't easy when you work at the same place.
📷 HIDDEN TRACK : Sweeter Than Fiction
“ PROVED ME RIGHT WHEN YOU PROVED THEM WRONG ” — PETER PARKER
a lot of people had a lot to say about peter when his identity was revealed. he revered how you stuck by his side through all of that, even if all you did was run a fan account.
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Feel free to message me if you want to be tagged in a certain fic 😊 I'm open to just squealing about our boys and/or Taylor Swift !!
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🦋 — @novelizt 2023
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