#so needless to say i'll be busy

[liturgusakrattorum]

hmm. i should revisit the runes au sometime

[dani-the-goblin]

.

[despairforme]

[dcxdpdabbles]

What if Danny went to school with Damian? I’m just imagining them going feral together after a little while, because you know that Danny picks up on Damian’s liminal vibes.

I mostly just want Damien to bring Danny home, and for Bruce to do the headcount thing that Mr. Weasley needed to do in Harry Potter. Just like ‘I could’ve sworn I didn’t have this many this morning’

Damian made a friend.

It shouldn't be as big a deal as his brothers were making it out to be but even he knew that he didn't have the best track record on friendships. It was hard to get along great with the kids in his school.

A lot of them were too carefree, to be unburdened by the things he saw and did on a battlefield and he couldn't stand how loud and messy they all were.

Damian preferred to sit by himself with some headphones in and draw whenever he could get the chance. According to the other children that made him an "emo loser" and a lot of them took great joy in flinging insults and taunts at him.

He never even spoken to them but for some reason, the general populace of Gotham Acadamy deemed him a great target for their scorn. Sometimes Damian wondered if he deserved their taunts, flung paper and spitballs.

If his time in the Leauge of Shadows truly made him broken and wrong as his classmates claimed.

It wasn't like Damian couldn't defend himself. He could have all of them begging for mercy within a minute but to do so would put at risk his Robin identity.

Which then would put his family at risk. Damian would never allow those under his protection to be harmed. So even if it hurt his dignity he allowed some of the more physical bullies to get a few hits in and ducked his head when he walked through the hallways.

His other classmates saw, but no one chose to speak up for Damian Wayne otherwise known as Bruce Wayne's accident on travel and dirty secret. He was the freak. The weirdo. They knew that if they got involved, even if they didn't agree with it, then they would be targeted.

He never expected anyone to step in whenever his bullies found him.

But then again, he came to learn that Daniel Fenton wasn't just anyone. His friend had a heart of gold with a righteous rage that was hardly contained in his smaller body.

It had been three days since Daniel had been transferred to Gotham Acadamy, during their free period. The youngest Wayne had been minding his own business, eating the vegetarian meal prepared by Alfred and drawing a little in his sketchbook when he was surrounded.

Damian had been pushed up against a wall by the meaty hands of the snickering soccer team. They were gripping his shirt collar and Damian had been preparing for a punch in the face when Daniel had appeared out of nowhere.

"Hands!" Danny had shouted pointing at Derek, the captain of the team with a scowl. He was the one who was going to beat Damian up while his friends held Wayne in place. "That's a penalty kick buddy!"

And then Danny kicked Eric- a teenager who was at least a head taller than him- right between the legs. Danny threw his whole body weight into that kick and the captain proved it by choking out a wheeze and falling to the ground.

Before his friends could react, Danny was upon them swinging his lunch tray like a battering ram.

Needless to say, the rest of the soccer team was not impressed, especially the goalie. They abandoned Damian to fight against Danny, who well seemed like he knew his way in a fight, was nowhere near Damian's level of training.

Good instincts but he lacked a solid foundation.

Danny was able to fight off the seven members of the soccer team (the rest didn't really hang out with them during breaks) but he had a lot of wounds as a result.

"Run dude!" Danny had shouted at him, putting himself between the team and Damian. His lip had been busted, he had a black eye and a nosebleed but Danny didn't seem to care. "I'll hold them off!"

Damian was ashamed to admit that he just stood there in shock at the new transfer's behavior. Daniel....was attempting to rescue him. Why?

He hadn't even known Daniel at the time.

The teachers arrived then, dragging everyone to the principal office where Damian was accused of starting the fight and Danny was threatened with being expelled only three days into his move. The soccer team had been smug, while the principal who Damian believed disliked him for his Middle Eastern Blood, seemed to jump at the fact he could smear Damian's name.

Daniel was on scholarship which did not help his chances at all in a school that had legacies.

His father had been away on a mission, so the school had been forced to phone Richard instead. When his brother arrived the soccer team's parents had been throwing a fit about all the hits Daniel had gotten in.

"Mr. Wayne shouldn't have agitated them and Mr. Fenton jumped in unprovoked. ," The Principal said staring Richard down when his brother had loudly demanded to know what happened.

"But he didn't" Daniel cut in. His guardians hadn't arrived yet and had remained mostly silent by the way. The group of parents and teenagers turn to him. "They were the ones to attack Wayne. I hit them unprovoked though. That part is true. They didn't do anything to me, but I can't stand cowards that attack in groups."

"I guess you have proof of this?" Mrs. Skeel sneered. She was Eric's mother and often brides her son out of problems.

"I have a body cam," Daniel reveals pulling out a miniature camera from his tie. He smiles at the dumbfounded stares his actions cause."Recorded the whole thing."

"Can I see the footage?" Richard requested, which Daniel easily handed over. They played it on the Principal's computer and there the camera shows Daniel sitting in the tree that Damian had chosen to sit under. The video captures Daniel watching him up until the soccer team arrives, and their innocence is proven.

Daniel didn't seem to care that he made enemies with almost everyone in that room as Richard quickly took control of the meeting with the evidence. Damian thinks he may not have to worry too much now that the staff were aware that Waynes would and could cut their funding.

Not only that, but the parents were also weary of angering Father. None of this meant that Daniel was safe so Damian took it upon himself to never let the new student be alone for too long.

As a means to protect him.

It wasn't until he realized two months later that school had gone for a dull meaningless pass time to laughter and enjoyment because of Daniel. They walked to class, they shared notes, they passed notes, they watched videos, Daniel chattered about everything and anything and they sent each other funny memes.

Daniel was vastly different from Damian but it didn't seem to bother him. If anything their differences were what made them so close. Daniel claimed that his two best friends back in his old school were vastly different in interest and personalities too.

He had made a friend.

Daniel was his friend.

A friend who didn't seem to mind when he would go quiet to draw or medicate. A friend who didn't need an explanation or justification for his eating habits. A friend he was able to vent about his troubles to and lend an ear to when Daniel faced his own woes.

A person who laughed at all his dark jokes, regardless of how much death was in them. Someone who seemed almost as... what did Todd call him? Feral? as Damian was.

Damian had chosen to invite Daniel to a sleepover. His very first ever sleepover with people from school- Jon held the crown for being the first friend to have a sleepover with him- and he has been ever so excited.

It's childish for someone of his age to show such anticipation for something so small but he couldn't help himself. Something about Daniel was captivating. Almost otherworldly so.

There was something about him that made all of Damian sense buzz but not in a bad way. He isn't sure what it is, but he is getting tired of Drake's and Richard's knowing smirks.

He detested being left out of the loop.

The doorbell rings. Todd makes the motion to stand up, which would be a disaster. He does not want Daniel- a person who swears in old classic book titles to meet his one brother who adores said books and reads them for fun.

Damian flings himself over the couch, using Todd as board. He ignores the shout of rage that his action causes and the hollaring laughter of the rest of Father's brood.

He clears the door before any of the other Wayne members and breaks out into a run. Just in case any of them got the idea of trying to meet Daniel before Damian can control the situation in which it happenes.

Also, he wanted to see Daniel. Spring break felt like an eternity now that he couldn't see his friend every day. He would like to have met up with him since the break started but Daniel's guardian had planned a trip and they only just returned.

He had yet to meet Daniel's uncle but heard a lot of Mr.Clockwork from the teenager. Damian was still unsure if he liked the man. He seemed far too aloof when it came to Daniel.

"Geez Dami, relax! Your boy toy isn't going anywhere!" Brown cackles

"Give him a big smooch!" Drake adds, his laughter echoing Brown's

I will deal with them later. Damian swears, fixing his hair from where it had fallen out during his run. He checks his reflection in the mirror by the doorway. He wants to look good for his first ever school friend's sleepover.

Damian had picked his best outfit, wearing his favorite jeans and black button-down. He accessorized with silver rings and chains, grateful Jon had been willing to facetime to give him the modern teenager stamp approval.

Once he is satisfied that his appearance is at its utmost best, he opens the door.

"Hi, Dami!" Daniel chirps. He is wearing a faded pair of jeans and a white shirt with a red dot in the middle. It's nowhere near Damian's stylish and well-put-together often, and yet he looks as beautiful as a grace nymph outside the school uniform.

Damian mind goes blank for only a second before he nods. "Daniel.Welcome. This is Wayne Manor. I live here for I am a Wayne."

For I am a Wayne!? Damian thinks to himself in horror unsure why those words hand tumbled out of his mouth. A wave of shame washes over him as Daniel curiously looks around with that pleased little half smile on his lips.

Daniel is always half smiling as if he heard a joke only he was privy to.

"This place is cool!" Daniels says spinning around to face him and missing Father stumbling out of the living room. Damian is unsure why the man had return so soon, as he thought Batman would be off-world for another week at the least with Flash.

His father looked dead on his feet, eyes half open as he walked up to Daniel and yanked him into a hug!?

"Oh," Daniel says pressed up to Father's chest. "Hello?"

"Hi, son." Father mutters. He squints down at his friend with bloodshot eyes. " Did you get smaller Timmy?"

"Father!" Damian shouts outraged while the rest of his so-called siblings come spilling out of the other sitting room.

"Bruce!" Drake shouts a wide grin on his face. "I'm over here."

"Wha-? Then who is this?" Father blinks slowly, one eye closing before the other, as he tilts his head. He has yet to realese Daniel, though his part his friend seems content with the embrace seeing as he had returned the gesture. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.....ten? Do I have ten children?"

"You only have nine" Thomas calls out helpfully. Father nods, then counts again, pointing one finger at the people in the room

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine" He looks down pointing at Daniel. "Ten. Why are there ten of you?"

"That's a son-in-law, old man"

"No. I could have sworn none of my children are married......Dick you're not married are you?"

"Not yet B."

"Jason?"

"Trying to find a finger to put a ring on it Old man."

"Cassandra?"

"No thank you."

"Tim?"

"Ew."

Daniel giggled at Drake's response and Damian felt the sudden urge to bury a knife in Drake's side.

"Steph?"

"Nah."

"Duke?"

"I'm too young B."

"Cullen?"

"I can't even get a date, Bruce"

"Harper?"

"Inability to get dates run in the Row family tree."

Father nodded then. "Good none of my children-"

"What about Dami?" Daniel asks with a wide grin. Both his friend and Father turn to stare at him. Damian suddenly feels himself sweating through his shirt.

"Damian? You aren't married?

"Of course not!" He denies it loudly and faces an unconformable red. Daniel cackles like the devil he is.

Father meanwhile continues to hug Daniel while muttering. "Then where did ten come from? Alfred? Why are there ten children in my house?"

"Master Bruce if you do not let that young man go and go see Dr.Thompkins for that concussion I swear, heads will roll!"

Damian is grateful that once again Alfred seems to be the only one with a brain in this manner.

"I like it here," Daniel proclaims watching the butler drag away his confused father. Damian is utterly unprepared for the look that his friend shoots him from under his eyelashes, and he almost trips over his own two feet as he says. "Show me to your room?"

"I...of course! This way! I live here!" Curses his voice cracked. It ended in a squeak! He, Damian Wayne son of the Bat and Demon, made a fool of himself by squeaking!

"This is better than a daytime tv sitcom." Row- the male one- snickers from the stairway and Damian flips him off as he passes by with Daniel.

[mytheoristavenue]

Straw Hat Men with you in a Skirt W/O Panties 🍋

Summary: How your boyfriend would react if they saw you on deck, wearing a skimpy skirt with no underwear.

Warnings: MDNI, NSFW, penetration, sexual frustration, groping, fingering, oral (f receiving)

Monkey D. Luffy:

He wasn't anticipating anything exciting ho happen today. The crew had been at sea for weeks with no destination in sight. If he didn't know any better, it might've occurred to him that Nami had gotten them lost. Needless to say, Luffy was bored out of his mind. Nobody to play games with, and nothing to do.

So when he made his way to the deck and found you leaning over the railing, what little fabric was on your hips billowing in the breeze, his interest was peaked. The closer he got, the more it dawned on him, that he could see flesh that shouldn't be visible. Deciding he had to see for himself, he strolled up to you, pressing his chest against your back, and cupping your ass, fingertips grazing your heat. "Why aren't you wearing panties?"

"Don't feel like it." you giggled. "Besides, everyone is so busy today, it's not like I'll get caught."

Luffy chuckled, a grin cracking his features. "I caught you though."

"You don't count, you're my boyfriend." you sighed playfully, 'accidentally' bending a bit deeper at the waist.

"It counts even more," he purred, leaning into your ear with a airy laugh. "'Cuz I'm also your captain." As if to punctuate his statement, his finger slipped into your sex, pumping shallowly. You sighed, laying your head back against his shoulder. "And as your captain I order you to get your ass to my room."

Roronoa Zoro:

All he wanted was rest, to nap in the sun after hours of working out, but you couldn't even give him that. He stirred awake to find you standing over him, hands clasped innocently behind your back. You loomed over him, standing between this open legs, smiling down at him. From his angle, be could barely see the the lack of fabric beneath your skirt, but it was enough.

Taking a quick glance around to ensure nobody could see, be hastily gripped the backs of your knees, pulling you forward. Lifting your skirt, he buried his face in your sex, slipping his tongue between your lips. You trembled at the way he sensually kissed your heat, with the same amount of passion he'd kiss your face with.

You whined softly as your fingers gripped what little hair he had as his head found shelter fully beneath the thin fabric that hugged your hips. "Shhhh..." he hushed, the vibrations against your clit making you weak at the knees. "Somebody'll hear."

"Z-Zoro..." you murmured pitifully. One of your dainty hands reached down to uncover his face, wanting to see him nestled in your thighs. Instead you were met with his dark, lusty eyes peering up at you.

God Usopp:

He had been descending the stairs from the cabin to the deck when he immediately stopped in his tracks. His haki alerted him to something in his path at was amiss. Quickly, he scanned the area to make sure nobody else was there to see what he was, before hopping down the rest of the steps and darting over to confront you. "What do you think your doing?" he hissed, flustered as could be.

"Enjoying the warm weather." you giggled, leaning over the railing of the Sunny. Some how the nonchalant energy of your answer made the irritation in his cheeks worse.

"Weather, my ass!" he replied, fists clenched with embarrassment. "Why do you have you ass out on deck?"

"Why are you looking?" you quipped playfully.

"It's kinda hard not to when I can see it from the top of the stairs. What if someone else sees you?" he worried, his eye twitching in annoyance from your lack of concern.

"Awe," you snickered, turning your body to face his as he pinned you against the railing. "Is somebody jealous?" you teased, palming him through his pants before grinding yourself against him.

"No," he breathed with furrowed brows. "Just don't want anybody else seeing what's mine."

"Is that right?" you cooed, slipping your hand into his waistband to give him a few playful pumps. "Maybe we should take this back to the workshop, then? That way you can have me all to yourself."

Vinsmoke Sanji:

He hummed softly, setting out his ingredients for dinner when you strolled in. "Need any help, babe?" you offered, trying your best to look innocent.

"I got it, love," he replied with a gentle smile. "But you're welcome to stay if you want." He turned back to his prep station, only to realize that he forgot one thing: garlic. "Hey, actually, do you mind handing my a clove of garlic from the shelf over there?"

Nothing could've prepared Sanji to watch you bed over, only to be fully nude beneath that tiny skirt. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, before he set the knife that he'd planned to chop the garlic with down. Quietly, he approached you as you were still bent at the hip, and firmly grasped your hips. "Mon amour," he purred, unbuckling his belt with a single hand, before pulling out his erect cock and rubbing it against your heat with little warning.

The sweet gasps he pulled from you gave him life and spurred him on to slip into you. "S-Sanji..." you moaned quietly.

"Laisse moi te baiser correctement, mon ange."

Translation:

"Mon amour," = "My love,"

"Laisse moi te baiser correctement, mon ange." = "Let me fuck you right, my angel."

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hi hi!!

Okay so I was thinking what about a task 141 + big man konig with a reader that likes to slap their ass cheekily or just plain ass grab them,any time is fair game,the boys are all in the barracks or in a meeting room? Better line up. 😂

Only if you're comfy ofc!!

Aha! This is perfect, lol. Hope this does what you were looking for justice😊 did a little twist as the reader doing it for the first time.

Warnings: sexual references, mild swearing

141 + König x GN Reader When You Slap/Grab Their Ass Playfully.

Simon "Ghost" Riley-

You'd seen videos circling the internet of people slapping their partners asses randomly to see their reactions, and you wanted to try it on Simon. While you were mildly terrified of what his reaction would be, you decided you still wanted to go with it.

The two of you were cleaning up after a home cooked meal, and you knew now was the time to strike. He was wearing a tight-fitting pair of sweats, and his ass looked just too good not to hit.

You sauntered up to him with a smile and gave his ass a loud "SMACK".

He set the dish he was holding down in the sink before turning head slowly to look at you, a dark look crossing his face.

You gulped at the look on his face before backing away. "I-I had to. I'm sorry."

"Had to?" He asked, and you nodded meekly in response.

"Or wanted to?" A smirk started to form on his lips.

".....both?" You mumbled sheepishly.

"That so?" The smirk lining his face was terrifying to you. He moved closer to you, effectively trapping you against the counter. "Why don't you head on upstairs, yeah? I'll up in a few. "

It seemed Simon, too, enjoyed smacking your ass, as evident from the large red handprint that was left on your ass cheek later that night.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish-

You and Johnny had a little bet going on who out of the two of you would be the first to crack without sex. Johnny had said he'd be able to last longer, and you desperately wanted to prove him wrong.

It started out simple enough, soft arm touches, thigh squeezes, "subtly" grinding yourself against his crotch. Nothing seemed to be cracking him, to your surprise.

Determined to win, you had one final card up your sleeve. Johnny was out working on his car, minding his own business. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find the sight incredibly attractive.

He was bent over, wearing a tight muscle T-shirt and tight workout shorts. You bit your lip in anticipation and walked over to carry out your plan.

"Hey baby. Looking good out here." You cooed as you walked up behind him.

As he peered around to look at you, you slid your hands down his waist until you reached his bum and squeezed the flesh there firmly before smoothing your hands up and down.

"I uhhhh, fucking hell Y/N." Johnny shook his head and moved away from your wandering hands. "Nope not falling for it. Nope."

You moved closer to him once more and gave his ass a harsh smack, before walking away.

Johnny set the tools he was working with down and came over to you, throwing you over his shoulder as he made his way to the bedroom.

Needless to say, he lost your bet, but not that you or he were complaining.

John Price-

John was giving a debrief to 141 in the conference room, and you couldn't help but let your eyes drift to his backside. He was walking back and forth while talking, giving you a perfect side view of his ass.

You turned to look at the boys and saw not a single one of them were paying attention, as they were probably all beyond exhausted.

Deciding to have some fun, you peered one more time to make sure you didn't have an audience and waited until John made his way past you before you made your move. He started to make his way past you, and when he came within arms reach, you slapped his ass.

Truly, you hadn't meant for the smack to be as loud as it was. You appeared to have misjudged the pressure, as everyone in the room, including Price, stopped and stared at you.

Rather than being embarrassed about it, you smiled widely and settled back into your seat as if nothing had happened, ignoring the looks of horror from the boys.

"Y/N, a word, outside if you will?" Price said sternly as he promptly forced you up and escorted you out of the room.

The minute the two of you made it outside, he pushed you up against the wall with a loose grip around your neck. "Thought that was funny did you?"

"I couldn't help myself, sir." You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing, as Price dragged his eyes up and down your figure.

"Couldn't help yourself? You won't be laughing later. I'll guarantee you of that."

Price kept to his word later that night. You surely weren't laughing as he took you from behind, slapping your ass repeatedly as you took exactly what he wanted to give you.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

141 was getting ready to be sent out on a mission, and the 5 of you were getting on your gear. You could feel your nerves bubbling in your belly in anticipation of the mission.

Looking over, you saw Gaz putting on his gear, particularly the band around his thigh for his knife. You couldn't really say why you wanted to slap his ass, but unable to help yourself, you walked over to him, giving a resounding smack to his ass.

Shocked, Gaz turned to you with wide eyes before looking around to make sure nobody had seen what you just did. "Babe?"

You gave him a small smile before returning to your gear. Feeling Gaz walk up behind you, you looked to him. "What's up, love?"

"I think you know what's up. What was that for?" He asked.

"Just a good luck smack, that's all." You put both hands up in mock innocence.

"A good luck smack? That right?" A smirk formed on Gaz's face. "Well, I think I need a good luck smack of my own."

You turned to try and flee before Gaz wrapped his arms around you. "Nowhere to run, sweetheart."

The slap to your ass that ensued had everyone in the room turning to you and Gaz with wide eyes, much to your amusement.

König-

Poor König. He was minding his own business cleaning his weapons in the armory when you walked in. He was bent over staring in concentration at the gun he was in the middle of cleaning, giving you a perfect view of his ass.

You'd always wondered what his reaction would be if you were to go up and hit it, but you were always too nervous to try it. You were in a particularly playful mood, so you'd walked up to him with a polite smile before slapping his ass with all the force you could muster.

"Maus...have I done something wrong?" König asked timidly, standing up to his full height as he turned to you. His face was scrunched in confusion.

You bit your lip to contain your laughter at his reaction. "No? Baby, why would you think that."

"Oh. I um. Well. You spanked me, so I thought I must've done something to upset you." König's cheeks were red from embarrassment.

"Oh gosh, no Kö! You just.. looked really good, so I.... felt the need to slap your backside?" You now felt unbelievably awkward, not expecting this reaction.

"I see." König stood and contemplated your words for a few moments, before moving behind you. You felt a harsh smack on your ass, and heard a small giggle erupt from your boyfriend.

"Kö?"

"You look good too, so I smacked your ass." A tiny smile appeared on his lips.

From then on, König made it a point to slap your ass any time he deemed you looked good, so your ass was constantly imprinted with his large hand prints.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: thanks for reading!!!😊🩷

[meangirls-imagines]

Hi. Can I request a Regina imagine? High femme lesbian reader. She/her. Looks are exactly my profile picture.

Plot:

Reader overhears people spreading terrible rumours about Regina. Reader defends her and Regina eventually finds out. Just pure fluff.

Thank you!

Protective

Description: Reader is usually the level headed one of her relationship. However, she is hanging on by a thread. The thread snaps when she hears a football player talking shit about her girl.

WARNINGS: none really. pure fluff. regina being all heart eyes for reader. reader yelling at men

Y/N was on her last straw.

All week for some reason, people wouldn't stop talking shit about her girlfriend.

Regina George.

It was no secret that people disliked her girlfriend. She knew that. She knew when her and Regina first got together. People would tell her all the time, it's not like she could forget.

But this was different.

It was more constant than usual.

It was like every day there was a new rumor about her girlfriend.

"Regina is cheating on Y/N with Aaron Samuels."

"I heard Regina is pregnant with Jake's baby."

Y/N was tired of the shit talking. She was one little inconvenience from exploding. Luckily for her, it would happen soon.

Unluckily for Shane Oman, he was about to endure Hurricane Y/N.

Regina knew all the rumors about her weren't true, but it still hurt to hear them. Gretchen and Karen were working to kill all the rumors as they started but it was hard when they kept coming.

Regina had no idea how Y/N was reacting to the rumors. She hadn't seen the girl all day due to them not sharing any classes together. So she had no idea what to expect.

She was waiting for the girl in the cafeteria, foot tapping impatiently. Gretchen and Karen were with her, glaring at anyone who looked at Regina badly as they walked past. The blonde felt vulnerable. She just wanted her girlfriend here with her.

Her day just got incredibly worse when Shane Oman came up to their table.

"Hey babe, you wanna hang out later?" Regina cringed. "Shane, you know I'm gay and have a girlfriend. Leave me alone." The boy smirked and leaned closer to Regina. "Oh come on, Regina. Remember how much fun we used to have? All you need is the right guy to straighten you out."

Regina went to reply but was interrupted by someone pouring a smoothie on the boy's head. He whipped around to see a smirking Y/N standing there with an empty cup.

"Hi there, Shane. Let me go ahead and explain something to you. You're going to back away from my girlfriend, and I won't tell the entire school that you have herpes. Got me?" The boy stared at the girl with rage in his eyes.

"Try it. No one would believe you." Y/N smiled at the boy. "Sure, they won't. But, I can very easily get medical documents that say that you not only have herpes but maybe I'll throw erectile dysfunction in there. Imagine how much action you'll get after that."

Shane blushed in embarrassment and stormed off, leaving a trail of smoothie behind him.

The cafeteria was silent, all staring at Y/N in disbelief. The girl stood on the table and addressed everyone.

"Okay. Since we seem to have a gossip problem at this school, allow me to tell everyone now. If I hear a fucking peep about my girlfriend, you can go ahead and sign your fucking death wish. Everyone got it?" The cafeteria seemed to all agree and go back to their business.

Y/N smiled in satisfaction and stepped down, instantly being pulled into Regina's lap. The blonde pulled her into a kiss, causing Gretchen and Karen to squeal.

They pulled away after a minute and Regina brushed her thumb on Y/N's cheek. "Thank you baby. I really appreciate it." Y/N smiled and kissed Regina's forehead. "Anything for you baby."

Needless to say, the rumors stopped and no one messed with Regina again.

[tarjapearce]

Crimson Crown (Pt. 7)

Royal AU! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Thanks to @pinkiemme for this amazing cover ✨

Summary: While your bond with Miguel deepens, so does the danger.

Needless to say you couldn't sleep. The initial thrill had turned into a myriad of things surfing through your mind. He had accepted your invitation without much hesitation.

Although your vision and ambitions for the future had been shared along some personal tidbits, the prospect of getting to know him on a deeper level was simply beyond excitement. So far, King Miguel had been nothing but kind to you. Despite the initial clash between the both, your walls had mellowed enough to stablish a good camaraderie.

But sitting in the first line to witness his work and dedication for his lands, had made your heart dance and prance with joy. You were ready to learn from him, and hopefully he could learn a thing or two from you.

And the lab.

Your arms hugged the pillow as a dreamy sigh escaped you. He had given you a lab completely for yourself, one of your dreams fulfilled to a full term and all thanks to him.

You wanted nothing but to hug him and you were about to, however the rational side of your brain prevented you from such thing. Regret remained jared inside, maybe if you had done a more personal and physical approach things would've been different.

Would it be too soon though? Would it be too bold? You certainly didn't want to spook him or make him have a desperate concept of your persona. But he gifting you with things that only nurtured your soul proved it hard to restrain your blooming affection.

Physical attraction was measly compared what he had to offer as a person. Not that his beauty wasn't alluring, but his intelligence, diligence and devotion towards his people had completely captivated you. And today you'll offer to return a bit of his own kindness.

He was always busy, duties prevented him from being a normal person and enjoy simple things in life. Your task for the day was to find out those little mundane things that he relished in, so maybe ahead in your future you could join him when doing so.

Unable to remain in bed any longer, you rose and prepared for the day. Instead of the usual lavish attires you were always dressed in, you went for a more casual set.

The trips in the city had given you the sight of a perfect spot nearby the castle. The ideal place to have your adventure of the day.

Once you had bathed and dressed up, you headed for the kitchen. Cooking wasn't something you excelled at, and even though the occasion was special, his favorite meals were a mystery to you. Miguel didn't seem like a picky eater, but he did favored fish and birds.

Obviously a man his size and weight needed larger amounts of calories. His musculature seemed something that was forged through the years, another thing to marvel about.

Before your brain could get lost in the many qualities he possessed, you kindly asked the chefs to prepare a little portable feast to put in a hamper. Appetizers, a few bits of meats and fruits along some wine and desserts.

In the meantime, you headed for the lab, Peter joined you midway, a little out of breath.

"Your highness"

"Good Morning, Peter."

With a little smile you acknowledged his presence before going to the herbal side of the place. A couple of black roses were pulled out, along some mint leafs. You prepared a little concoction before serving yourself and Peter a cup.

"Drink this. You look exhausted."

Peter hesitated for a second, but again, the smell was too fragrant and good to let go. He drank as you did.

"Do you think the king shows up?"

"He must."

A little chuckle escaped your lips while you finished your tea.

"I know. But, there is always something showing up. I hope it's not the case."

"I'll make sure he's there. Is everything ready?"

"Not yet. Cooking is not my forte, sadly. I wanted to prepare things on my own, but I'm afraid I'd be accused of a murder attempt with my seasoning."

Peter choked on his tea but quickly coughed it away with a lithe laugh.

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

"Still, I rather stick to pills and potions. That I can do. Even blindfolded. But enough on it. I'd like to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Is there anything that the King wouldn't rather to discuss? I really wouldn't like to make him uncomfortable if I pry too much."

Peter's eyes were filled with understanding.

"His health. He doesn't like talking much about it."

Your face turned concerned, something that Peter offered a little comforting gesture by holding his hand up. Stopping your thoughts from running rampant.

"He is alright. Not terminally ill or any sort of tragedy. If that's what you're concerned about."

"How could I not see this before?"

"Don't blame yourself, your highness. If you didn't see it, it's precisely cause he takes care of himself."

"Well, he has me... My help now, I mean."

Peter chuckled while putting the saucer away, exhaustion leaving his body.

"I know. I'm sure he'll put those skills to a good use."

"I hope so. I'd like to... help him. Ease his kingly duties, I am the future queen of Arachne after all. It's only fair I help him out."

"You're already have done so, your highness. But I'm glad you think that way."

Miguel wasn't wrong regarding you sharing his vision, and for you to help him was plainly endearing for those within his most intimate circle.

You instructed Peter to help you out with a little infusion. A gift for Miguel.

A little ground coffee beans and other herbs all tucked in a burlap pouch. Then it was all reduced into three vials. Similar to the ones he used for his medicine.

"What is that?"

Peter eyes both curiously and suspiciously the dark colored infusion, you just chuckled while sealing them with a lid on.

"An energy boosting drink. Whenever he finds a headache, he should drink this."

"That smells like coffee?"

"It is. But more concentrated."

"Ah."

"You still believe me capable of harm the king? That wounds me so, ser Peter."

An awkward titter came out of Peter's mouth, "Of course not, your highness. He's just wary."

"I know. I have my own precautions as well, but, If I am to stand next to him in whatever years lay ahead upon us, the least we can do is to trust each other. And I want to surprise him with something."

"I understand. I'm sure he has no doubts regarding you."

"You think so? I hope you're right. Is there anything else I should know?"

Peter's grimace furrowed and became solemn for a moment. He was about to warn you about Lord Darko and his tactics, including Dana when Margo approached.

"Your majesty, the chefs are ready. Should I get your horse?"

"Yes, please."

"We'll continue this talk later, alright?"

"Of course."

With that Peter just watched you leave. He knew prying into personal territory was a bit too dangerous even for him, but since Miguel either forgot often or he didn't want you to know, someone had to do the nasty job of warning you.

But now that you had wormed your way into Miguel's head and heart, maybe the truth would spill out his lips without much trouble. He could only hope for the good. He was the king, but also, his friend.

----

You didn't expect to see Miguel at the main gates, both of your horses ready to depart. In all honesty, you'd think that he'd send either Jessica or Ben to excuse himself for the day.

But seizing him, in a more casual yet practical attire to fight, made your heart to jump leaps. He was there, like he said he would. He didn't excuse himself this time.

His eyes narrowed softly at the sight of you, the gleam in them upon taking in your features made your skin crawl underneath the long sleeves. You approached and he readied his horse, making sure the seat was adjusted correctly.

A friesian black stallion that neighed softly as Miguel caressed in between it's ears. Perfect for battle and running in case a retirement happened.

You hopped on the horse, Miguel on his and the basket was attached to Jessica's. She was only there to see the location and bring the basket to then leave you both alone.

"Are you ready, my lord?"

"Lead the way, Princesa."

With a gallop, you settled the pace and soon, the three of you marched away. Leaving a lithe gust of wind after the horse's trotting.

Jessica gave Miguel subtle glances, which he replied with a mildly annoyed scowl. The non verbal communication had been perfected by both over the years, a clear sign of mutual respect and trust. And an even clearer 'Get over it. It's just a lunch'.

Jessica's smug smile stretched when he rolled his eyes and trotted next to you.

The wind blew over, playing with the scattered leaves in your wake, ruffling the different textures of your hairs, it took you some minutes to leave the castle behind, and some more minutes to arrive to the pond.

Short and green grass cracked under the horse's hooves, the smell of wild flowers and soaked earth filled in your lungs with pure air, skin soared in delight when another gust of air blew over the both. The tree's leafs joined in the waltz. You gave Miguel a smile.

"We've arrived."

You hopped off the horse with ease. The chirping songs of the birds nested within the big oak tree made it all feel like God had turned one of his whims into reality. A couple of deers had escaped as soon as they heard the horse's gallop. The faint noise of the water before you and the smell of pines made your thoughts even more enthusiastic.

Jessica left her horse for a bit to put the hamper near the tree and with a final salute she returned back to the castle.

It was only you and Miguel. The latter took the basket and ventured deeper within the curtain of leafs and climbing plants nature had claimed a certain branch of the tree. Like a private room in nature, a perfect getaway from prying eyes.

You took the linen and put it on the grassy and moss textured floor, Miguel helped by moving the basket on the middle of the fabric and then you sat down, patting the space adjacent to yours. He obeyed and rested his back on the tree, just like you after the shoes were removed.

"My trips to the city made me aware of the many lookout spots the castle has. And I found this one. Do you... like it?"

"I do."

His voice contained unsure undertones, cause in all honesty, he rarely left the castle and when he did was either for war, or to patrol. Miguel had never minded to take his time into admiring his lands, that held not only power, but beauty within.

Just like you.

His eyes darted towards your profile, appreciating the landscape when he noticed the shy dimple in your cheek. His eyes raked over your lips, the brief wonder of their taste popped in his mind. The sun rays filtered through the leafs, gently basking within your eyes.

As if the sun had found a lovely place to rest for a moment. His brows twitched upwards yet discreetly. The ally eyes were gone, leaving room for the man he was to take over and be in awe of your beauty. If this was the sight he'd wake up to, he'd gladly become an art connoisseur.

He didn't know what to blame. His pent up stress that begged him for relief, or your mere existence in the same space. Breathing the same air, inches away from him looking like an artist's opus magna materialized into flesh and bones.

"So..."

You mumbled and cleared your rasping throat.

"So."

"Are you hungry, my lord?"

"Please, call me Miguel."

You blinked once, then twice before a bashful smile bloomed on your cheeks.

"Are you sure of that?"

"We're soon to be wedded. Even though nobility is picky regarding titles, I couldn't care less."

That earned him a sheepish chuckle from you, but you nodded.

"Then, it's only fair you call me by my name as well."

"I'll stick to Princesa."

"Isn't that my title?"

"It is. But in my other tongue means something good."

Lovely even

His lips twitched in a little impish and borderline childish smile upon seeing you flustered.

"But if you want, we could go back to-"

"No. I mean... I like when you call me that. Your other language sounds rich and captivating."

"Does it?"

Your head bobbed nervously and his hands reached for the wine bottle to serve on two goblets.

"How much of it do you understand?"

"Barely a thing. But it's your tone that gives a bit of context. I can tell when you mean something good or bad."

"How about this? Te ves tan encantadora cuando tratas de aprender más sobre cualquier cosa." (You look so lovely when you're trying to learn more about anything)

Your throat gulped and your eyes casted away from him for a brief second before exhaling gingerly. Flush blooming in your face.

"Sounds like I'm doing something good."

His smirk deepened.

"And what have you learned so far?"

"Some little phrases, a few greetings and your title."

"My title?"

"Yes, mi rey."

His heart was nothing but a thump-a-thump inside his ribcage, the way you had pronounced such thing had his self control to hold you in such a fine thread that could snap if you ever said something like that again.

My king.

Your king. The idea of being called like that after your wedding made him secretly beg time to go faster. He had so much to teach and show you, your eagerness only made it better.

But he was also learning from you.

You called him by his given name, and oh his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. His lips stretched involuntarily at your voice, calling him.

"Yes?"

"I've gotten you a gift."

"A gift? Why?"

"What do you mean why? I'd like to honor you too with gifts as you've done. Is it wrong?"

Your hands reached for the velvety pouch containing the vials, filled in with your caffeinated concoction.

"Here. If you ever find yourself with a terrible headache, drink one."

"I'm afraid I'll need more than these." You chuckled and leaned in a bit closer to him.

"I will prepare as much as you need."

He poured the wine, and handed you a goblet. You sipped it almost right away, nerves wrecked you, but speaking so closely to him made your blood rush hapzardly in your cheeks and butterflies to twirl in your stomach.

"I also wanted to ask for something, away from the council's ears."

His brow arched softly "And what is that?"

"I beg you. Please let me ease your kingly duties. Let me help you."

It was always a Lead the way, sometimes a You need help. others a You can't do it alone. but never precisely that. A let me help you.

"I know that I'm already helping, according to you. But I'd like to do more." You took a small slice of fruit, "That way, we could spend more time knowing eachother. Either through work or... like this."

"What else would you like to do?"

He gestured you while he popped a grape into his mouth, you ate the piece and talked once you swallowed

"Let me take charge of the arts and social agendas. I will improve them. Your people have so much talent. You could size it."

"Then, let's make a deal. You're not to abandon your medical duties, I need you on the front."

Your head nodded eagerly.

"But, I'll assign you a schedule, so you can balance both. But if it's too much, you'll let me know. Understood?"

"Si, mi rey."

Maker's mercy.

You were killing him, his restrain was kept in check and control. You ate and drank in silence, too nervous to ponder about eachother, but the letter he burned into ashes came to his mind.

"Have you had many pretenders before me?"

A cringe worthy nod from your end made his nose flare in an airy chuckle.

"Really?"

"Yes. Though I barely remember about them now."

You shrugged and Miguel could only stare at you.

"Did they ever sent you letters?"

"They did, until I decided to ignore them."

"Why?"

His eyes changed to a more curious and keen gaze.

"They were simple."

"Simple?"

"Yes. You know, when beauty is everything they see. I like deeper minds."

Miguel's chest heaved with excitement upon your words.

"For being a pair of royals that were brought together under political circumstances, we do have alot in common."

"Indeed. May I know more about yourself, my lord?"

"More about me?"

"Yes. What do you like doing in your scarce free time, favorite things and the like."

"And what do I get in return for sharing such information?"

"More of myself to you. And possibly me enjoying such activities with you."

"That's fair."

A small smile appeared in his lips.

You both shared, your own part of the story. Your birthdays, favorite foods, drinks, activities, flowers, upbringing and raising ways.

He was a simple man when it came to things, nothing too extravagant as you had thought. He didn't enjoy hunting. He disliked formal and big events, even had thought of escaping to his room after he had been crowned.

He had found a way to brew his own sort of wine, reducing the importing costs, he was an inventor, and spoke multiple languages. Miguel enjoyed tinkering with machines that were out there making the life of his citizens easier.

His upbringing was everything but easy, since the expectations were put in him in such an early age. Another reason of his premature scowl.

He told you about his first battle and how scared and angry he was. You shared about the loss and mourning of your brother. How it impacted on your parents, your dad specially. And how your mother took charge for the both to prevent the kingdom to sink even deeper in the rickety luck that seemed to tuck in Theleria.

He had his temper and has kept a silent rivalry against Kingpin. However his surprise was much when finding out you were about to marry Kraven in a desperate attempt to keep a bit more of territory. One of your father's suggestions.

"I'm grateful it ended up being you."

Your mother had played her cards well. You had even explained some customs of your country. The mistresses topic was unavoidably brought up, but sensing you tense after explaining the why, he was the one that seemed deep in thought.

" I apologize if my traditions have hurt you in any way."

"It's complicated, cause I really want to understand everything related to your kingdom, I know no nation that is perfect. But I accept your apology."

"Still, I'm sorry for making you feel disrespected, Princesa."

A little smile appeared on your lips. You itched to know if he kept them around, but that bit of solace was enough, you didn't want your dark thoughts to ruin what has been achieved so far.

"Do you wish to return to the castle now?"

"I'd be a liar to say that I don't. But my priorities are others at the moment."

You.

-----

Baron Drako dragged Dana to a secluded room and sighed. Dana could only stare at him, expectant.

"What's going on?"

Darko paced frantically before her, "The king..."

"What about him?"

"He's out. With the princess." He seethed, "They left since this morning!"

Dana's expression soured. Her anger boiled, but fury would do little to solve the evolving problem. You. She needed to think straight.

"Is that so?"

"How can you be so calm?! The crown is being taking right under your nose-"

"Father"

She interrupted while raising a hand. The single motion alone was a clear understanding between the both.

"Tell me you have a plan. You can't... You can't let that Thelerian to be crowned as queen. You are the one and only worthy to be on Miguel's side"

"I know. But don't you fret. Miguel always returns to me. He knows what I am capable of."

Her fingers took her chin, and her eyes narrowed. She'd definitely had been slacking, not cause she wanted. Her own family matters had kept her at bay from the main stage.

But she had seen you both. The glances Miguel gave you, the way he itched to hold your hand, to lay a finger on you. Just as he had longed for her all those youngling years ago.

"Let me handle this."

"What are you gonna do?"

Dana's lips twitched in a wretched and cold smile.

"I think it's time to introduce myself to the princess."

-----

Miguel's hand took yours as you ventured in the shallow parts of the pond to soak your feet.

Despite the day being nice, the humid weather of Arachne always made you itch for a cold bath during the day. Sometimes you dreaded the materials for the wedding dress, but it mattered little when clothes were bound to be discarded through the night.

You swallowed and casted a discreet look his way. His feet submerged in the cool and crystalline waters, pants rolled up to his ankles, and his shirt to his elbows, leaving strong and sturdy forearms bare to your sight.

Would he like to consummate the marriage? Probably. Would he notice your total lack of expertise in bed? Definitely.

The more you thought about it, the more red your cheeks grew. But it was impossible to not think in such things when the behemoth of a man next to you was looking to the horizon, deep in thought about something you didn't have access yet.

His skin glistened under the sun, but his lips were the main attraction to your now not so discreet ogling. He smirked upon catching you red handed, a hand of his raked through his curls on purpose, making his muscles flex and be outlined underneath his shirt.

His whole frame offered you solace from the blazing sun, but also granted him enough to see your flustering.

His eyes softened and his shoulders slumped, relaxing within your presence.

Eyes studied you for a moment before they stopped at your lips.

By instinct, he took your hands. Your fingers grazed his palm softly in a shy caress.

"It's been a while since I've taken a break."

You smiled and his eyes mellowed.

"I'm glad I was able to distract you from your duties, even for a bit. We all deserve to rest."

"Now you sound like Peter."

With a giggle you pulled him deeper to the pond, letting the hem of your skirt to soak lightly.

"Well, he is right. The more you take care of yourself, the longer you'll live."

Hand in hand your feet wiggled underneath the water. He stood next to you, gazing at your hand in his.

His heartbeat steady, despite pounding in his ears by that touch alone.

"If I'm honest, I didn't want a marriage initially."

"I know. Neither did I."

His grip tightened slightly and you looked up at him.

"It's funny how life weaves it's threads, isn't it?"

"What do you mean, Princesa?"

"Well, neither of us wanted to, yet, neither opposed greatly." A faint shrug of your shoulders, "I might have given a little tantrum. But we just agreed because of our duties."

His eyes casted down briefly before speaking again

"If... circumstances were different, would you still agree to a marriage?"

That was a question you weren't expecting.

"With you?"

He nodded

"Certainly."

He was definitely holding onto you tighter.

"Why?"

"Quite curious you are, my lord."

He chuckled and you grazed your thumb on his warm flesh.

"But, it's because of your kindness and consideration"

"Sorry to disappoint but I'm everything but that."

"Towards others perhaps. But to me... You're not the bloodthirsty man everyone makes out of you. You're more than that."

A faint pained look came across his features.

"Bad habits are hard to kill."

"My lord. Tell me something."

"Hm?"

"From all the times you've waged a war, was your land under threat?"

"Yes."

"Was your kingdom sovereignty at stake?"

"It was."

"Do you love war?"

"I don't."

"Sometimes hard choices must be taken. We might not always like it, but someone must do it." You inched closer to him and entwined your fingers gingerly in his.

"And those who chose to do the right thing, even in pain, are the bravest souls of all."

His hand enveloped yours in a tender hold. Words like a reassuring balm to his aching soul. Fingers secured tightly yet gently on yours.

"And, I'll be honored to be brave with you. If you'll allow me, that is."

The urge to clutch at his chest only grew the more you spoke. You could kill him out of joy and you wouldn't even know.

"My words might be clumsy, I'm rather a man of action. But believe me when I tell you, Princesa."

His eyes looked into yours.

"Regret regarding this, had left me a long time ago."

----

You way back to the castle was quiet, yet comforting. It was safe to say that you had came closer, not only as royals, but as two individuals bound to share their lives. Obligation was no longer a word that hovered over both, willingness had slowly seized that spot.

You wanted the same, and he could have you. There was no hidden truths behind, no second guessing or intentions. Nothing that made him suspect. Just raw and utter admiration from you. And something else.

You understood with little. He was bad with words or anything that involved feelings, but the urge to prove his blooming affection and admiration for you was greater than anything, sometimes even from his own duties.

But that kiss on the back of your palm was more than enough for you to know your advances weren't in vain.

A chaste, yet loving kiss that made you understand that the acquaintance and friendship threshold had been blurred and crossed.

You weren't afraid of the intensity of how your emotions displayed, and hoped that he wasn't spooked away by them. But it was unerring that your temporary escape had brought to light so many things hidden by fears and insecurities on both ends.

You settled for another outing within the following days.

Upon returning to your chambers, and another kiss on your palms as a temporary goodbye, you prepared for your evening activities. Meaning, you'd be back to the lab and instruct your new subordinates, ready to prove and honor your words.

Peter however followed Miguel to his war room to deliver a report. The sight before him made him chuckle. Slumped against his chair, a lazy smile on his peaceful face.

"If escaping your duties with the princess leaves you like this" He gestured to a slumped and lazy smiling Miguel, "Then I'd have to ask her to keep you for herself as long as she wishes."

He could have you.

The realization upon you saying such things filled in his body with many things he couldn't understand completely, but was no longer wary and mistrusting to explore.

"The wedding is a month away. Many things have changed."

"Sounds like you're eager to get married."

"Not for the reasons you think." One of his bushy brows quirked, mildly annoyed.

Peter rose his hands in defense, "I haven't said nothing"

"Good. Prepare Dana's family for a trip."

"What?"

"I'll send Baron Darko a-"

"No, I heard you. Really, Miguel?!" An exhausted and cloy sigh came across his lips, "I'm getting tired of you playing this childish games. That wretched woman is dangerous."

"I know."

"Then why you keep her?!"

"Cause I'll kill her myself. But not within my castle."

"I don't believe you."

"Not my problem. Don't want her blood stain this fortress."

"... Miguel-"

"In two days. Tell Commander Reilly to prepare the east manor."

His personal slaughter house. Peter's eyes remained on him, there was no lies behind his dark ruby eyes.

"Understood."

-----

You had taken dinner in your room, too excited to keep your thoughts to yourself. A flurry of entries where added to your diary.

A scholar having a crush was nothing compared to how you felt.

Everything seemed to be finally be on its way, but something didn't belong in there. You had been too eager to start your teachings that completely ignored the letter left on your desk, placed by an intruder.

The bright red wax seal captured your attention. A letter written in an impeccable scribbling, not as refined as yours. The seal was broken, initial joy vanishing upon reading its contents.

A letter that undoubtedly, had all the intentions of harming with a simple message:

"Your majesty. I believe it's time for us to meet. Join me at the rose garden after midday tomorrow.

-D."

Another council member you didn't know about? No. You've already met Baron Darko. Who could it be and why such pithy words filled you with anxiety and dread?

You put the letter in the desk where you found it, and headed to your bed. The memories shared with Miguel today were far too bening to let the intrusive thoughts to win over.

Sleep came easier when the last thing in your mind was Him and the events of today.

-----

Taglist:

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[mistywaves98]

Hi! I love your writing. I was wondering if I could request Wanderer with a sub afab reader with a degradation kink please 🙏. If not, feel free to ignore.

✧･ﾟ:* ->Wanderer x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Degradation, Modern AU, Phone sex, You call him Scara, Ending is bad, I wrote this while half asleep, Some praise, Fingering (yourself)!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

Your boyfriend was away on a business trip that was supposed to last a few weeks and while you didn't object at first, after the first week or so you had to admit that his absence was making you lonely.

That also meant you had to rely on yourself for pleasure but no amount of toys or your fingers could make yourself climax like he did. Hell, you couldn't even orgasm in the first place. By the end of the second week you were extremely pent up and frustrated. You missed everything about him, his face, his fingers, his voice, his cock...

It didn't take long for you to finally open his contact and press call. He answered almost instantaneously and you felt your heart flutter when you heard his soft voice through the device next to your ear.

"Hello?" "Scara, I miss you so much...you've been gone for so long!" He smiled at your longing tone full of indignation before replying, his voice holding a teasing lilt to it,"I miss you too, baby, even though it's only been two weeks—" "Two weeks is a very, very long time for you to be away!" You couldn't help but cut him off, scoffing as he merely laughed in amusement at your annoyance, finding it cute how badly you wanted him to be by your side again. "Alright alright, just hold on a little longer, I'll be home before you know it. In the meantime, tell me about your day."

And so he patiently listened to you ramble on about the things that happened while he was gone, occasionally throwing in a snide comment here and there. You took a deep breath as you finished, asking him about how things were on his end. As you listened to your boyfriend talk, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. Soon you completely lost track of the things he was saying, focusing on how smooth and sexy his voice sounded. The low rasp in his tone only made more blood rush to your cheeks as all the pent up feelings you surpressed made their way to the surface.

You bit your lip, rubbing your thighs together as arousal pooled between them. Your mind became clouded as you imagined him whispering the filthiest things right next to your ear in that same tone. One of your hands kept holding the phone as the other made it's way down your body, teasing the waistband of your pants before slipping in. You shuddered as your fingers made contact with your soaked pussy. When did you get so turned on...?

Carefully, you circled your thumb around your clit as your middle and ring finger prodded your leaking hole. Your teeth dug into your lower lip even harder as you slowly pushed them past your folds, resisting the urge clamp your thighs around your hand. Your hand that was holding your phone trembled as you struggled to hold back your moans. The sound of his voice only made you wetter as you pumped your digits in and out of yourself at a steady pace.

You were so caught up in your pleasure, that you didn't even realize Scaramouche had stopped talking. It wasn't until you heard him inquiring about your state that you snapped out of your blissed out state,"[Name]? Are you still there?" "O-oh! I'm fine, just...keep talking, please..." Needless to say, your boyfriend was a bit baffled by your request, but he complied anyway. The more he spoke, the closer you felt to finally reaching orgasm for the first time in weeks. Your fingers' pace quickened as you found it increasingly difficult to stay quiet.

Even moving the phone away from your ear a bit did not stop him from hearing the heavy pants and muffled whimpers in the background, which caused some suspicions to raise. "Are you sure everything's alright, [Name]?" "I-I told you, I'm fine! Keep talking...I'm almost there..." He wasn't stupid and that sentence told him everything he needed to know. A smug smile graced his features as he put and two together.

"I see how it is..." "Wh—" "I can here your slutty moans clearly. I didn't realize that my pretty little girlfriend was such a desperate whore, that she'd resort to fucking herself on her fingers to the sound of my voice. You really missed me that much, huh?" "..I did..." You could barely answer between your moans. God, hearing talk like that to you was so hot. You could feel yourself clenching tightly around your fingers. You were getting close... "It's okay. I bet you've missed my cock too, you wish I was there to fill your needy pussy with my cum, hm?" He continues to praise and degrade you over the phone in that sultry tone you love so much.

"I'm sure you haven't been able to make yourself cum once since I left. It's so adorable to see how you need merely the sound of my voice to get yourself off. You'd literally be hopeless without me. Now keep thrusting those fingers into that pretty pussy, I want you to cum hard around them," And so you did, sweet cries sounding from the speaker of his phone as you quicken your pace, eyes rolling back into your head from the pleasure. The way your moans' pitch heightened told him that you were teetering on the edge of orgasm, so he continued to coax you,"Just like that, gush all over those dainty fingers for me."

You didn't need to be told twice. Your moan of ecstasy echoed through the dark room as your juices coated your fingers, soaking through your clothes and dripping onto the sheets below. You rode out your high until your breathing evened out slightly and you pulled your soaked digits out of your tight cunt, making you miss the feeling of being stuffed. Your pussy clenched around nothing as you heard his low laugh on the other end of the line,"Oh, how I wish I was there to see your face contort into that whorish expression I love so much. I bet you still want more, right? My slut wants me to be there, fucking her dumb on my cock?" You nod your head enthusiastically as you answer even though he isn't even there to see, but you're just that eager.

"Of course a slutty bitch like you wants my cock, if I was there with you, I'd make you get on your knees and make you worship it all night while making you finger yourself so that I can watch for my own amusement." The image makes your head spin and you swear that your inner thighs became even more messy with slick. "You're so wet now, aren't you? Want me to grab your hair and use your throat like my personal fucktoy?"

Your only responses are either longing whines or quiet 'yes's as he dirty talks to you over the phone, making promises of fucking you nice and hard when he gets back to make up for his absence which only makes you even more impatient for his return. Eventually, he has to go so you reluctantly hang up the phone before getting up to clean up. After that, you curl up on the bed, hugging the pillow he always sleeps on as you drift off to sleep.

[1d1195]

Right Here

Hi, idk if you all know this about me, but I love tropes. ALL of them. All. of. them. So here they all are: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc. (Don't look too close this is Zipper but reveresed)

Other warnings: angst

9.2k+ words

“Business or pleasure?” The driver asked.

She stated “business,” immediately. Whereas Harry said, “a bit of both,” with that devilish smirk of his and looked at her with delight in his eyes. He seemed to get more enjoyment out of his comment as she glared at him.

In Year 2, Harry was playing with a few of his friends by the slide. He wasn’t really aware of what was happening but there was a girl in his class playing with a couple of her friends when the screaming started. There was a huge to-do; parents were called, the principal was involved, and the girl that seemed to be at the center of all the drama would not stop glaring at Harry.

But Harry didn’t like girls. He was six. He wanted to hang out with his friends at recess and maybe learn about the shapes and the planets if he had time. So, he didn’t really care that she glared at him. Or that he had to write an apology letter (that his mum told him how to write in his six-year-old scrawl). It was just another day in the life of a Year 2 student. He didn’t even know why he was writing the little note to her. He didn’t know what happened or why he did something wrong.

Year 2 turned to Year 3 and soon Harry was kissing and hugging his mum and sister goodbye as he went off to university. He was studying English Literature and Communications. He wanted to be a book publisher—mainly because he wanted an excuse to read all kinds of books. Moreover, he could read really good books before everyone else did. Eventually, he hoped to open his own publishing company, but he would need a business partner for that.

That was still a long way down the road. For the time being, he would enjoy university: friends, girlfriends, classes, his part time job, and everything in between. His only downfall was listening to his professor who suggested he get a minor in business—especially if he planned on own his own company. Even if he didn’t fully run the business side of things, it was good to have a general idea. Some key words and concepts would be helpful. More so, if the business partner wasn’t someone he trusted.

But Harry was awful with his business classes. The very first one he took was the bane of his existence. He strongly considered never opening his own company, he would just get the other person to handle it. Needless to say, he was recommended for tutoring two weeks into the class.

That’s where he found the glaring girl. Obviously, no longer seven. She was twenty, like Harry. And she was lovely looking. Except for the scowl on her face directed at Harry. Surely, she hadn’t harbored a grudge toward Harry since she was seven?

Oh, but she was. She was curt while she tutored. Everything Harry did was wrong. She managed to correct his mistakes kindly, but he could tell it pained her. There was a lot of sighing and eye-rolling involved. But she was good, he’d give her that.

Harry tried to be friendly, but she clearly wanted no part of it. “I am not here for small talk with you, Harry,” her voice was flat. She didn’t want to talk about the weather, or parties, or anything that wasn’t part of Harry’s class. When she came to help him at the designated time in the library with tears in her eyes, she sat down, took a deep breath, sniffled, and started her help with his homework.

“Hey, we don’t have t’do this now, beautiful. You’re obviously upset—”

“What do you care?” She interrupted.

“Jesus,” Harry shook his head in disbelief. “What is your problem?” She rolled her eyes, tearfully. “Y’can’t seriously still be mad about Year 2.”

She shook her head. “Just...shut it,” she snapped and turned her attention to Harry’s assignment. He sighed, looking at her like she was on the verge of a breakdown but did as she wished. Listening intently to her lesson, Harry felt this pull of how sad he was by her anguish, and he didn’t even know what it was. He kept watching her expressions, judging her tone, in between her explanations. He was worried there was something seriously wrong.

Despite her anger towards him, he didn’t want her to be upset. He worried someone had hurt her or upset her in some way—in a way that he could fix. It didn’t occur to him why he wanted to help her until well after three other classes she tutored him in for his minor over the last two years of university.

He got very little information out of her about anything that didn’t pertain to his classes. He knew she was grumpy in the afternoon and much preferred to tutor in the morning when her mind was fresh. That was when he got a glimpse of her gentler side—for only a second. She liked coffee a lot, she smelled fresh of her shampoo, and her eyes were brighter. She would ask if he had a good weekend or if he had any fun plans. It was the only time she offered up anything to him.

If it was any time past two in the afternoon, she wanted nothing to do with pleasantries or Harry, it seemed. But she was paid to tutor him, and she did it well. Harry never would have made it through his business classes without her. He was forever thankful for her help, even if she didn’t want to be thanked.

*

“Harry, would you like to go to this conference?”

He looked up from his desk where he was reading a riveting historical fiction novel that was passed up the chain to him. Harry thought it would be a NYT bestseller for sure. “Me?” He asked, clearing his throat and putting his pencil down. One thing he hated was marking up people’s hard work in any color pen—but especially red. It felt very secondary school of his coworkers to do it that way. Someone pored over this writing and of course no one expected it to be perfect, not even the author. But there was something so ugly about red ink marking up something that your blood, sweat, and tears went into.

Harry would quit writing if he saw even one smidge of red ink on his work.

Which is why he edited and didn’t publish his own work.

Harry had been a senior editor for four years, now. He loved his job. It was everything he hoped for: he read so many good stories and felt he was still learning so much. He was promoted from junior editor to senior editor after two years. He still hoped to own his own company one day.

“Yeah,” his boss rolled his eyes. “Who else would I send? Someone from the business administration team will attend as well,” he explained.

Harry smiled; he knew the second the title left his mouth exactly who would be attending the conference with him. She was going to hate it. “I would love to go,” Harry nodded excitedly. “But between you and me, I don’t want anyone t’get jealous that m’going. D’you think y’can keep it a secret?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged. Harry loved this office. It was so carefree. When he had his own company, he would want it to be exactly like this. If he could own this one, he would. He liked all of his coworkers and would want to keep them alongside him.

Including the girl from the admin team that constantly glared at him during work parties, meetings, and office breakroom run ins. If she wasn’t there, then it wouldn’t be worth it.

When Harry saw her interact with their coworkers, he couldn’t help but fall more in love with her. She was so utterly beautiful, funny, and of course, absolutely brilliant. There wasn’t a question she didn’t know how to answer. There wasn’t any advice she couldn’t give. She was never condescending and was extremely helpful. Even when Harry needed her help—which was so rare he only recalled it three times in the entire seven years they worked together. She didn’t sigh, didn’t roll her eyes although he was sure she wanted to.

So, nothing made him happier than annoying her to pieces.

He told everyone he had known her since Year 2. Left notes for her on her cute little lunch box in the fridge, would constantly send random items to her office (his favorite was the look on her face when he sent her a bouquet of balloons. It didn’t do anything, but people said Happy Birthday to her all day, and she had to say it wasn’t). He would tell people they were best friends and watch her blush bright red trying to get out of it. There were so many fake secrets he told the person he was near making direct eye contact with her, just to piss her off.

It worked every time.

He worshipped her, honestly. How could he not? She was brilliant and beautiful. The whole package. Even when she was a bit crabby, he thought she was simply the cutest and went on adoring her from afar.

Harry couldn’t imagine how fun a work trip would be with her.

*

She hated flying. It was necessary but she hated it. The space was almost too small. It was stuffy and gross in a lot of ways. The seats were cramped, and it was just awful. She had her headphones in place, a relaxing, quiet playlist, a good book, and her travel pillow around her neck. She was more than ready to begin the flight. The conference was a treat, it was shorter hours than her regular workday and then she could meander the town as much as she pleased. It was going to be a great trip and she had been looking forward to it for the last two weeks.

But then Harry sat right beside her. “Hey beautiful,” he smiled sweetly. She stared at him. This had to be a joke.

“You’re kidding?”

“What?” He smirked impishly stowing his bag beneath the seat in front of him. “Excited t’see me?” She flushed that beautiful shade of red that he loved so much on her cheeks. “Ready for our vacation?” He asked. “Bring a good book?”

The plane was suddenly even smaller. She thought she was going to be sick. A whole five days with Harry. Five. She was going to lose her mind. She closed her eyes as the plane jolted forward. Harry was doing all the things he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Fidgeting with the tray table and the like. She wanted to scream.

How could she possibly get stuck with him?

*

Harry didn’t say much to her throughout the flight. At least not after asking if she was comfortable, which was objectively nice if she couldn’t stand him so much. He grabbed her bag from the bin overhead, made sure she didn’t get lost on her way to baggage claim, and held the door open for her when they reached their Uber. “Business or pleasure?” The driver asked.

She stated “business,” immediately. Whereas Harry said, “a bit of both,” with that devilish smirk of his and looked at her with delight in his eyes. He seemed to get more enjoyment out of his comment as she glared at him.

She really wished Harry wasn’t so goddamn hot. It should have been a sin to make someone so alarmingly attractive. Soft brown curls that looked like they were made to slip between her fingers. He had green eyes—how was that even fair? Those dimples made her stomach flip. He was incredibly tall and so fit; she thought about falling at his feet every day she saw him at work and just ending her silly grudge.

But she never forgave him for that day in Year 2. Call her stubborn, call her stupid. She didn’t care. It ruined a huge chunk of her young life and made her miserable.

Four days and twenty-two hours. She could survive.

“Me and the missus need a place t’eat, do y’have any suggestions?” he asked, reaching for her hand like they really were a couple. She yanked it out of his grip. She wanted to kill him. More so because she hated the way her heart took off when he touched her and the idea of being “the missus” was...ugh.

She was worried Harry wouldn’t survive the next four days, twenty-one hours, and fifty-eight minutes.

*

They arrived at the hotel and Harry was once more a gentleman, even though she didn’t want him to be. He grabbed her suitcase and sweetly pushed it through the lobby to the front desk. “Hi,” Harry said cheerfully. She wanted to shower, get out of her plane clothes, and get away from Harry. His chipper attitude was making her grumpier than normal. “I have a reservation under Styles,” he explained. “Here for the convention,” he added.

The man behind the desk nodded, smiling pleasantly as he tapped away on his computer. “It says two guests for your name,” he informed him. Her heart dropped to her feet.

“No, it doesn’t,” she murmured, but she knew it was right.

Harry was smiling like an idiot. This was too good to be true for him and his endless bouts of annoying her. “That’s correct,” Harry nodded.

“Are there any other rooms?” She asked. She already knew the answer, but she would kick herself if she didn’t at least check.

“No, I’m afraid we’re really booked with the convention.”

She didn’t dare ask if there were two beds because she already knew that answer too.

“It’ll be fine, lovie, don’t worry,” he promised. Part of her thought he really meant it too, sensing how upset she was. She was so overcome with frustration; she almost didn’t notice the new name he gave her. That it wouldn’t be torture for her to be in the same little space as Harry for the entire five days. Her heart started erratically beating at the thought. It felt like the sides of her brain were caving in like the walls surely would be when they got to the room.

She would lay ground rules. She would go buy a roll of tape and cut the room in half. Harry wasn’t going to ruin her little reprieve from work. He continued to be kind and pulled her bag to their room. “I would like to shower,” she told him as she eyed the single, king-sized bed in the middle of the room, mocking her. He settled the bags on opposite sides of the room. He chose the side closer to the window for her.

“I’ll be right in,” he winked at her.

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, which she knew was exactly what he wanted. “What if I don’t want the window side?” She asked instead.

“Well, that I don’t really care, lovie. M’taking closer t’the door in case someone breaks in. Wouldn’t want you t’get hurt.”

She just wanted to annoy him the way he always annoyed her. Maybe make him move the bags around and then move them again which she informed him she did want the window side. But she didn’t expect him to be so nice. Didn’t think he would give a reason that was kind enough to care about her well-being. Even when she was grumpy toward him.

If her cheeks were going to be red the whole week, she was going to lose it. “Don’t come in the bathroom or I’ll murder you,” she rolled her eyes.

“I would never do that,” he rolled his eyes right back at her. “I was jus’ kidding.”

Unfortunately, she believed him. He seemed genuine, as much as she wanted to kill him.

*

The shower helped her relax marginally. At the very least she got the feeling of the plane off her. “I ordered some pizza. Y’like peppers and onions on yours, right?” Harry, knowing exactly what she liked, furthered her agitation.

“Yeah,” she mumbled.

“I’d like t’shower too. D’you think y’can get the pizza when it arrives and actually get mine too?” He smiled at her knowingly; like he thought she might not take his pizza from the delivery guy in protest of the whole situation.

She rolled her eyes but had to hand it to him because it did sound like her. “Yes, Harry.”

“Hey beautiful?” he said softly. She hated that she looked up, answering to his pretty pink lips calling her ‘beautiful.’ She shouldn’t have. First and foremost, she thought he was wrong. Maybe it was because of all the drama of Year 2 but she never had boys of any age fawning over her after the slide-incident. Not the way they ogled and adored her friends. It did a number on her self-esteem. While she tried to put up this front that she didn’t care about whether she was beautiful or not, it was hard to believe someone like Harry would recognize her as even pretty.

Secondly, it made her stomach flip when he said it and she hated that. It was unfair he was pretty and unfair he could make her crazy with just a word. “M’not so bad,” his face looked apologetic—like he felt bad for existing. “I promise, it won’t be that bad this week with me.” She nodded sullenly, ran her brush through her hair. “’Ve left some notes on the table there for the pizza,” he tilted his chin toward it.

“You don’t need to pay for me.”

He smiled. “Course I do, lovie. S’my treat.”

She hated the way she answered to ‘lovie’too.

*

She sat in comfortable silence while she ate her pizza. While eating, she looked at the itinerary on her phone. Made plans in her mind and thought about some of the things she wanted to do during her free time.

“Oh good, m’starving. Smelled it while I was showering.”

She did a double take, her jaw falling open instinctively. She nearly dropped her pizza on her lap and then her phone right after it. Harry was hurrying across the room to get to his pizza. A towel low on his hips showing off glistening, taut muscles. Her heart hammered against her chest. “Jesus,” she whispered to herself looking away.

“Did y’say something, beautiful?” He asked, taking a bite of his pizza. She shook her head. Once more, angry she answered with the word ‘beautiful’.  His hair was dripping, and she followed the little droplets as they slid down his broad shoulders and across his defined pectorals. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to hate him easily. But his pretty tattoos and his gorgeous body were making it so difficult.

“I’m think I’m going to sleep on the floor,” she told him. He frowned around a bite of his pizza. When he finished chewing, he had a bit of grease on each corner of his mouth. She wanted to reach out with a napkin and wipe it away.

Or lick it away, along with the rest of his body.

“I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he promised. “M’not gonna let y’sleep on the floor, lovie,” he rolled his eyes. “If you’re that uncomfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

She couldn’t help but feel bad that her awkwardness, her annoyance for Harry, would have him sleep on the floor. He didn’t truly deserve that. This was a work trip for him as well, after all.

Maybe if he was fully clothed, she would have taken him up on his offer. Accepted him sleeping on the floor in her place. But her modern-woman, intelligent brain that she had spent years cultivating so she was independent, and worked so hard to make sure she didn’t go ga-ga over a man was malfunctioning from travel...and knowing she was stuck with Harry in such close quarters for almost a week.

Plus, Harry had the prettiest stomach she had ever seen on a man.

Her primal brain, the one that seemed to be screaming from between her legs, couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

“It’s…fine,” she mumbled focusing on her pizza and phone again.

“Are y’sure, beautiful? I don’t want t’make y’uncomfortable.”

She believed him. He seemed so eager to please her and ease her worries. She nodded. “It’ll be fine,” she was telling herself in hopes it would be true. “But I’m making a pillow wall.”

He smiled around his pizza.

*

“Would y’prefer I sleep with or without a shirt?” He asked. Harry went to use the hotel gym and then took another shower. She used the time to read her book and sit on the balcony while the sun was setting. It wasn’t a picturesque view or anything, but the sky was a bunch of beautiful hues of pink, blue, and orange.

When Harry exited the shower, it was awkwardly silent for a bit. Harry tended to his after shower-care. She was looking at her book but not reading. She yawned, and that was when Harry asked his question. The inquiry felt like a double-edged sword. If she said with a shirt, it might imply she wanted to hide him from her view because she couldn’t help but look at him. If she said no, it would make it seem like she wanted to see him. “Whatever makes you comfortable,” she decided on.

He smirked and pulled his T-shirt off. “‘Fraid you’re not privy t’that sleeping habit, lovie.” She wondered if anyone had ever been murdered with a hotel phone cord. She felt extremely self-conscious about her t-shirt and leggings combo. “Feel free t’do the same, beautiful,” he grinned wickedly at her as he slipped into his side of the bed. She had two pillows under the blankets and two on top. She was certain that even if she had her own room, it wouldn’t be enough distance between them. “What if I want another pillow?” He asked mischievously.

“Go fuck yourself, Harry,” she grumbled.

He frowned. “C’mon, lovie. S’not so bad.” She didn’t say anything in response and turned to her side facing away from him. She scrolled mindlessly on her phone. “D’you want t’watch something together?” He asked.

“No, thank you,” she murmured quietly. “You can though,” she shrugged. “I’ll sleep through most anything.”

He nodded. “Okay...well...good night, beautiful. Sleep well,” he said sweetly.

She didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, she imagined the nice museum she saw online. The picturesque street about a mile away with cute little shops. There was the coffee shop she wanted to go to. All the things that Harry couldn’t ruin with his annoying little remarks.

Or his stupid hot body.

Other than some gentle laughter, she didn’t hear or worry about Harry sleeping less than six inches from her own body. The pillows provided the perfect barrier between them so that she could sleep easily knowing that he wouldn’t bug her.

Only four days until it was over. She could do this.

*

Harry heard her phone drop from her hands to the floor about an hour later. He hurried to her side of the room and made sure her alarm was set, locked her phone, and placed it on her nightstand. He saw the way she seemed to shiver in her sleep. Probably because she was right under the vent. The space between her brows puckered due to her discomfort. He draped the blanket that was at the end of the bed over her. Almost immediately, the skin between her eyebrows smoothed back out. He wanted to kiss her in the very same spot but of course would never do that without her permission.

The movie Harry was playing was funny and he enjoyed it immensely. True to her word, she slept through his laughter and the sound of the movie itself. She was wiggly when she slept. The pillows and blankets balled all around her and Harry wondered how she slept like that each night. It looked nearly painful at times.

Of course, the movie came to an end, and she was still sound asleep when Harry finally turned the TV off and hunkered down into his side of the mattress. He tried not to disturb her pillow wall, but she had managed to throw all of them every which way. He smirked to himself, shaking his head at her.

Harry must have gotten only an hour of sleep under his belt when he woke up to her kicking and mumbling under her breath. The light coming through the window allowed for his eyes to adjust a bit to the darkness against her figure sprawled in the sheets. He shook his head glancing over at her in complete disarray.  Her body was still twisted around the pillows and blankets. Harry was left with just the sheet. He smirked at her.

He threw his arm over his eyes and ignored her fitful movements. But they kept going and going. The mumbling too. He felt bad about whatever she was dreaming about, but he didn’t dare touch her. If she woke up to him touching her, even if it was for comfort, he was certain she would kill him.

Harry was a pretty heavy sleeper himself, so her fussy movements didn’t bother him in the slightest. Whatever she was dreaming about had to be a kick for sure and for that he felt bad.

But then Harry heard small whimpers coming from her and he felt his stomach knot. It felt like he was dying at the mere sound of her discomfort. The anguish he felt coming from her was brutal and he wanted nothing more than to hold her and fix it. “Oh, hey,” he hummed, sitting up against the headboard. He looked her over and thought incurring her wrath would be well worth it if he could stop her from whimpering miserably. “Lovie? Y’okay?” He gently shook her by the shoulder. She seemed to be fighting whatever she was dreaming about, and the blankets were keeping her trapped. Harry grabbed the pillows that were on top of her. Her arms were nearly swaddled against her body with the blanket wrapped around her and pulled up to her neck tightly.

Harry flicked the light on his nightstand so he could get a better look at her.

The poor thing was glistening with sweat around her hairline, tears were leaking from her closed eyes, and that space between her brows was cinched together like she was in pain. “Oh, no,” he murmured and crawled out of his side and came around to her side. “Hey,” he cooed. He crouched in front of her and began tossing the pillows to the floor. He unraveled the blankets from around her. “Lovie,” he murmured. He called her lovie at the start of the evening and he couldn’t stop. He loved to call her beautiful and enjoyed how readily she answer to it. But something about her sweet face just made the word ‘lovie’ roll right off his tongue. It was effortless; like it was the only thing he should call her. Once she was without the swaddle of blankets, and the pillows attacking her, she was practically gasping for air in her sleep. “Lovie, you’re having a bad dream,” he gave her a good shake causing her eyes to flash open. Harry gazed at her in alarm. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to hide from Harry. But it was far too late for that. “Are y’okay, beautiful?”

She ignored him. Her breathing evening out. She turned away from him. “Lovie...”

“Would you stop calling me cute names?” She asked, the exasperation thick in her voice. But she was still distraught. He could tell. He was quiet for a minute letting her work through whatever just happened. “Please don’t tell anyone about this,” she whispered.

He blinked. He felt so sad she believed so little of him. “I would never tell anyone anything ‘bout you—”

“You whisper about me all the time,” she snipped.

His mouth fell open in disbelief. “Lovie, you have t’know I don’t whisper anything ‘bout you. M’telling them how pretty I think y’are and how you’ll get all flustered that m’whispering nothing ‘bout you. They know I adore you and think nothing short of wonderful things ‘bout you. Y’seriously don’t get it do you?” He felt so utterly annoyed by her, himself. He thought she was lovely and yes; she was fun to annoy but he would never say anything about her that hurt her reputation. He was sad she thought he would. It never made sense for her to dislike him so intently. He never really cared and turned it into a joke. But knowing she truly didn’t like him made his heart heavy.

She refused to look at him. It was silent for several beats. Harry stared at the back of her t-shirt, her shoulders trying to find an easy rhythm. He wanted her to explain it. Right now. In the middle of the night when they were stuck in a small hotel room together. “Why did you trap me in the slide?” She whispered.

Of all the things he expected her to say, that was not one of them. “What?” He shook his head.

“In Year 2? You and your friends trapped me in the slide, now I’m embarrassingly claustrophobic. If I have anything covering my face, I have a meltdown. It feels like I can’t breathe. If someone...holds me the wrong way for too long, I get overwhelmed. It’s ruined so many relationships and it’s...” she sniffled, her shoulders staggering a bit at the effort.

He frowned. “Is that why you hate me?” He whispered. She didn’t answer him. “Lovie, I had nothing to do with that.”

“Well, they blamed you.”

He sighed. “So, all this time you’ve hated me, and it wasn’t even my doing?” He asked.

It seemed to appeal to the logical part of her brain. She was still for a moment longer, her breathing evening out. But then she rolled to her other side and stared at Harry. He hated the tears that stained her cheeks. That little crease between her eyebrows. He reached out and pressed his fingers there to smooth it out and she let him. It didn’t even bother him that she hadn’t liked him for so long.

Her lips rolled into her mouth as she thought over the last twenty-something years of their lives. It may not have bothered Harry but now it bothered her. “Why have you liked me even though I’m so...crabby toward you?”

He smiled excitedly. Like he was getting a Christmas present or told he won a raffle. “What isn’t there t’like ‘bout you, beautiful?” His hand cupped her cheek and his thumb gently rubbed at the stain of salt on her cheek. The back of her head was warm with sweat and if it wasn’t so late at night, she would feel more self-conscious.

“You’re a glutton for punishment.”

It was progress though because she didn’t push his hand away from her face. “Can I get back on the bed? I won’t touch you, but I don’t want you t’have the pillows and blankets attack you.”

“You can touch me,” she mumbled.

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Oh yeah?” He rose from the floor to head back to his side of the bed.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I hate you.”

“I don’t think y’do, actually,” he said smugly.

“Are you going to annoy me the entire time?”

Harry turned off his bedside lamp and crawled under the sheet. “Probably.”

She sighed; he imagined her pretty eye roll the way she always did. Harry put his arm behind his head, closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. “You really didn’t trap me in there?” She asked.

Harry turned to his side and looked at the shadow outline of her staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to reach out and trace the shape of her profile, follow it down her arm and hold her hand. “Even as a six-year-old, lovie, I couldn’t hurt you. If...I knew...I would have gotten y’out of there so fast,” he promised. “Poor baby,” he murmured and bravely reached out and grabbed her hand. She didn’t pull from him. She let his fingers fit between the spaces of hers, gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know why you were mad,” he shrugged.

“You were really just going to let me hate you for the rest of our life?”

“Hate and love are very close together in the brain,” he said knowingly. “Given y’said the rest of our life,” he smiled excitedly, “I had a feeling y’couldn’t keep it up forever. And I’d wait forever for you, beautiful.” He sounded so arrogant she wanted to hate him just to spite him. But she couldn’t argue with him. It was exhausting hating him. Being in the hotel room with him—especially when he was in a towel—was ruining her grumpy front. Even with sleep still on her brain, she couldn’t help but think about how gentle he was with her and her anxious mind. He was so utterly accommodating and kind to her. He would have slept on the floor if she asked. But she rather enjoyed the feel of his fingers holding hers. “Do you have nightmares a lot?” He asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She shook her head. “Not anymore...Only when I get all twisted like that. I usually sleep better with a weighted blanket to help my anxiety about it. It also keeps me in place, mostly. I’ve had a lot of therapy to help cope with it and the blanket usually helps but obviously y’can’t really travel with a fifteen-pound blanket.”

“Can you snuggle?” He asked.

She blinked at the darkness in front of her. “Can I what?”

“Can you snuggle with someone?” He repeated.

She bit the inside of her lip. “As long as my face isn’t covered,” she muttered. “But it’s definitely been a problem in past relationships if that’s what you’re asking me ab—”

Harry had his arms looping around her and he pulled her toward him so quickly, she barely had time to process. His body spooned behind her, one arm snug beneath her neck and the other draped around the front of her hips. Her heart rate had to be approaching a hundred and fifty. “Is this alright, beautiful?” He murmured into the back of her hair. She was speechless, truly. Harry holding her like...like she didn’t just have a major meltdown. Like he adored her still. “Lovie?” He said, nearly releasing her when she didn’t answer. Worried that her heart rate was too high—he could practically feel it through her back pressed to him. Maybe this was too much.

But right as he started to pull away, her arm pressed against Harry’s. She sighed softly. “No...m’fine,” her voice was quiet.

“Are y’sure? I don’t want t’upset you,” he promised. “Been dreaming ‘bout snuggling with you... but not at the expense of your comfort or anxiety,” he assured her.

“You dream about cuddling with me?”

“Among other things,” he spoke to the back of her hair, his lips smiling against her head.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“I really didn’t think y’could hate me forever, lovie.”

She was quiet for a few moments. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. It was the first time she ever apologized to him. His heart skipped a beat.

“I know, beautiful. How would y’have known, though? I wish y’told me, but I know why y’didn’t.”

More silence. Harry’s bare stomach was touching her t-shirt, his legs were crooked up against the back of hers. They fit like puzzle pieces. She bit the inside of her lip feeling exhaustion pull over her mind. How was she supposed to sleep knowing Harry was sleeping right next to her?

“Good night, lovie,” he murmured.

She sighed, relaxing, and drifting to sleep almost immediately.

*

The first day of the conference went by quickly with not much to really show for it. Harry enjoyed it immensely and had a thousand new ideas that he suggested to her over their lunch together. She enjoyed it as well but after her night snuggled up to Harry nothing else seemed remotely important.

“Hey, lovie?” Harry said, trying to retrieve her attention. “Did y’have plans this afternoon? M’gonna catch up with a friend,” he nodded toward another table. The idea of Harry leaving her alone actually saddened her, but of course...they’d have the night.

Unless the friend was a girl. In which case he very well could not come back to their shared room. She nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Have fun,” she encouraged.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Keep the bed warm for me, yeah?” He winked at her as he pulled away.

She thought maybe killing him would still be an option.

She perused the little picturesque street taking a whole bunch of pictures and stopping in nearly every shop on the street and making a purchase in almost every single one. It was actually really nice. Not too hot, not too cold. She even sort of wished Harry had gone with her on her little adventure. She thought he would have liked some of the shops as much as she did.

It was precisely when she wished Harry had gone with her that she realized she really liked him. All this time.

Maybe he was right, and her brain mistook her affection for him as hatred. She wasn’t ready to say love yet. Even if her subconscious was screaming about how lovely he was.

Even last night when Harry was comforting and gentle about her phobia. He didn’t make her feel bad...in fact he made her feel normal and wonderful. The new information about the slide was a revelation. She had spent so many years with ill-harbored feelings toward Harry. It seemed wasteful after last night. He was kind, understanding, attractive—

She was not in love with him.

She couldn’t be, right?

He was annoying. Even if he wasn’t whispering about her, he was still making her feel grumpy. The constant gag gifts and deliveries were vexing beyond compare.

But those dimples when he smiled? They could undo all those negative emotions she felt. She was certain that there was some pheromone or chemical released in the air when he smiled. One that made her mind momentarily forget that he had been the cause of the slide thing.

However, that wasn’t true anymore.

So...

No. It’s like meeting someone for the first time. You don’t love him.

Not when he called her beautiful or lovie. Not when he openly flirted with her or held her against his warm body in the middle of the night and kept the nightmares away. She did not love him.

But maybe she just really, really, really, really, liked him and wanted to spend all her extra time with him now and show him the little shop she found because she smelled three different kinds of soap that she thought he would enjoy.

Obviously, that wasn’t love.

She looked more like some shopping bag monster than girl, when she made her way into the hotel elevator. Harry was already in the room when she got back. “Have fun?” He asked, putting the new file he brought with him and his pencil aside. His smile was so bright she really wondered how she could have ignored him for so long.

“Did…you catch up with your friend?” She asked. She was gone for almost three hours, she worried that she would come back to find Harry with someone, or someone in the shower...

Or in our bed. One part of her mind was grumpy at the thought. Not our bed. The one brain cell left on the rational side of her mind shouted back.

Harry began untangling her wrists and fingers from the bags she held while her brain had its own conversation. The bags left angry red marks on her skin. He nodded, placing the bags on the floor. “Yeah, jus’ had a quick stop at the pub for a drink,” he gently massaged the inside of her wrists. “I missed you,” he said cutely. She stared at him almost suspiciously. Like maybe all of this was a trick. Her distrust seemed palpable because he frowned. “I did, beautiful. Really missed you,” he brought her wrist to his lips and pressed a kiss on the soft inside skin. She missed him too. Even before she went to the shops, she was dreading leaving his side, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Her face must have softened a bit because the left side of his face turned up in a gorgeous half smile. It made her wonder how Harry had decided on editing and publishing and not modeling. “Would y’like t’get dinner with me?” He asked.

“Like a date?” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Yes, lovie. Like a date,” he rolled his eyes.

She frowned. “I don’t really have anything...date-worthy to wear.”

“Well, y’could go naked, but they might throw y’out.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Y’look beautiful now. I’d take y’out in the sexy pajamas y’wore last night.”

She wondered briefly if Harry had ever been hit in the head over the years and suffered irrevocable brain damage. “Sexy?”

“Your leggings?” He smiled mischievously. “M’almost jealous of ‘em touching all of your legs.”

Definitely hit in the head.

“Can I just...have a few minutes to touch up?” She asked, ignoring his comment.

“Course, beautiful. Not that y’need it.” He was good. She would give him that. He was very good at making her feel gooey and pretty. Harry said all the right flirty things. Dinner would be fun, and she was quite hungry.

She exited the bathroom after touching up her makeup and switching out her casual business blouse for a tank top with a cardigan. She swapped her slacks for a pair of jeans. The flats she wore stayed to complete her outfit.

“Will you marry me?” He sighed dreamily as she exited the bathroom.

He was going to give her an aneurysm.

“Shut up, Harry.”

“Ve’been waiting for this date for...” he smiled. “Oh, I don’t know, lovie. Least since university.”

Harry had to have a death wish. “You’ve...liked me? Even though I was mean to you?”

“A glutton for punishment, as it were,” he winked bringing her words back.

She grabbed her little cross body bag and Harry followed her out their hotel room door. Since the slide incident, she had been to at least four different therapists to help alleviate the worry and fear she had. In all honesty, she was much better than she used to be. The airplane was a little daunting during takeoff but that could have been due to a fear of flying, not claustrophobia. Her small attic or the cramped closet in the hall of her place didn’t bother her any longer. Being on a train in public transport rush hour—even when the train came to a standstill in the middle of the dark tunnel—didn’t really bother her anymore. It was only when her face was covered for too long without her ability to get out quickly, sleeping, plagued with nightmares, or swaddled in her blankets too tightly that she felt the waves of anxiety suffocating her like that day on the slide.

Or when the elevator clanged to a stop and jolted her so hard, she nearly fell into Harry.

It was three seconds of pure silence before she realized what happened. Before Harry realized.

“Shit.” Harry whispered.

“Oh no,” her pulse quickened. Her head started to ache, and it felt like the elevator was suddenly the size of an Amazon box and she was crammed inside. It took her a moment to realize the wheezing was coming from her.

“Hey, hey,” Harry quickly grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes welled with tears, and she was heaving on her breath. One of his hands reached for the emergency button causing a monotone ring to take over all sounds in the small space; the volume was louder than her heavy breathing. “Lovie, tell me what t’do,” he begged. “M’sorry,” he whispered. She felt lightheaded and scared. So scared she obviously was having trouble breathing. She worried that she would pass out right into Harry’s arms.

“M’scared,” she croaked.

“I know, beautiful,” he squeezed her shoulders. He held her away at arm’s length afraid to bring her closer in case it would make matters worse. All he wanted to do was wrap her close and console her. “But...s’okay,” he promised. “Really, s’okay.” It wasn’t; he wasn’t trying to make light of her fear either. He knew how bad it was because he had spent the last twenty years waiting for this moment. For her to say she didn’t hate him. For the last ten, he longed for a date. One measly dinner to change her mind. But the broken elevator was going to ruin it all. Honestly, that didn’t even matter to him. All of it didn’t matter. He had to try something to ease her worry. Something to help her scared mind. “I would never let anything happen t’you. Would never let anything hurt you,” he was gazing right into her eyes. He definitely didn’t cure her, but she could feel how devastated Harry felt. He meant it; he wouldn’t let anything harm her as much as he could possibly control. “Deep breaths? Does that help?” He asked. She nodded. She tried but it was hard, the air she sucked in and released was shaky and not very deep. It was hard to think about breathing deeply when all she could think about was dying in this tin box. “Easy, lovie. S’okay,” he squeezed her shoulders again.

The alarm was plain on his face, and she wondered if he wanted to hold her. She wanted to be held but wasn’t sure it would work. Her stomach felt so knotted. Thought maybe she would throw up and she couldn’t imagine a worse first date with Harry than throwing up in an enclosed space. She sank to the floor, her legs scrunched up so she could rest her forehead against her knees. Harry crouched in front of her, clearly still nervous and unsure of what to do. The one part of her brain that still had some rational thought left thought it was a travesty that she would lose Harry from this. She thought if she made it out, she would have to just go home. She couldn’t share a bed with him.

“They’re probably getting someone t’help right now, beautiful. S’okay,” he placed his hands on her ankles. It seemed like the safest option. He was so mortified this happened. To her of all people. The ringing of the elevator seemed to die down with the ringing in her ears. “Lovie?” He asked; he felt anxious that she was breathing so hard. She looked at him, her vision blurred by the tears. “Tell me what t’do,” he begged. He felt so useless. So worried that she was going to pass out or have a meltdown that she would inextricably link to him and never forgive him. After he just made some progress.

He thought about her six-year-old self. Trapped in that slide, her little brain all terrified. He wondered if that little version of herself still existed inside her. It hurt him to think about that poor little girl scared to pieces. He leaned forward and pressed his lips on her forehead and kept pressed there for a moment. That moment in time seemed to stretch on for eternity. But, as he kept his lips on her skin, he noticed her breathing slowly calmed. Her muscles seemed to relax.

“That feels nice,” she murmured almost serenely. He smirked against her skin. Slowly, he pulled away. Her eyes watched Harry with worry, but he slid beside her before he moved too far away. The shaky breathing picked up just a little. Her heart still fluttered with anxiety. She rested her cheek on her knee facing him.

“I...I could...do it again if y’want. If y’think it would help,” he suggested, turning toward her a little more head on. She lifted her head, it felt so achy and heavy. Harry cupped her face and pressed his lips on her skin again. She sighed softly. The ache seemed to ease at his touch.

Ugh. Harry was medicine that she didn’t know she needed. He dragged his lips across her skin, peppering her hairline with soft little presses. She wondered if he would always be this gentle with her.

She still wasn’t sure how she felt about her mind thinking about things like always with Harry. She was fairly certain she would die of humiliation the moment her brain returned to normal once they got off the elevator. There wouldn’t be an always after this. Harry would think she was nuts or ridiculous. There wouldn’t even be a sometimes.

 “Are y’okay, lovie?” He hummed against her skin. “As y’can be right now?”

She nodded, feeling utterly safe with Harry beside her. She enjoyed the way his hands felt on her skin. His lips on her face. It was too bad she didn’t know all these years he had nothing to do with her childhood trauma. She thought she really could be in love with him.

*

It took an hour, but they were finally freed of the metal tin. The moment she had fresh air, she felt infinitely better. Harry could see it on her face and in her body language. She was entirely at ease. Back to normal. After a flurry of questions and the hotel offering a few extra nights, they left for a nearby restaurant. Harry held her hand, fingers twisted together. He didn’t say much, because he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say after that. He knew she had to have felt so exposed and vulnerable.

“We...don’t have to go out, if you don’t want,” she mumbled.

Harry frowned and stopped the pair of them in the middle of the sidewalk. “Do y’want t’go back?” He asked.

She bit the inside of her lip. “I’m sorry.”

He blinked in surprise. “For what, beautiful?”

“For being crazy?” Did he forget what just happened?

“Crazy?” He repeated in surprise. “Lovie, s’not your fault. M’glad you’re okay.”

“You’re not...you don’t think I’m...weird?”

His heart felt such sadness for her. “No, lovie. Course not. Think you’re lovely. I was so scared y’were going to hurt yourself in all the worry. M’so glad you’re okay. M’sorry y’had to—why are y’crying, beautiful? Are you alright?” He asked, her eyes spilling with tears. He thought he might cry right with her. Harry had a good six or seven inches on her and he bent his knees a bit so he could be eyelevel with her teary gaze. His hands cupped her face just like on the elevator and he looked pained that she was crying.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t know why she was apologizing. But he let her and pulled her toward him, careful not to cover her face with his embrace. She sobbed into his chest. Harry kissed the top of her head. “S’okay, beautiful. Don’t know why you’re apologizing. But s’okay.”

It felt so embarrassingly awful that she and Harry would never be.

*

They ordered takeout, had a drink while they waited—barely speaking as they did, and headed back to the hotel. Of course, they took the stairs. She didn’t even feel like eating as she sat across from Harry on the balcony. He ate his veggie stir fry quietly while she poked at the pasta in her takeout box. “That’s pasta, you remember?” He smirked at her. “You’re supposed t’eat it,” he encouraged. Trying to joke so she would feel a little better.

She couldn’t even muster an eye roll for him. Ending before they started...after a whirlwind of one night and day of the convention seemed utterly unfair.

“Lovie?” He asked quietly. She didn’t respond. She was worried she would cry. “Beautiful,” he murmured setting his food aside, crouched beside her seat and pushed her food to the side as well.

“I...I think I really like you,” she whispered.

He smiled. “Well finally, lovie. But y’don’t have t’cry ‘bout it, m’right here,” he gave her knee a gentle squeeze. Like he was consoling her.

She shook her head. “S’not fair to you or all that time I wasted. And I’m so weird.”

“You’re not weird, lovie,” he promised.

“Yes, I am, Harry.”

He shook his head. “Y’seriously going t’continue pushing me away when m’literally on my knees in front of you, beautiful? I don’t care if y’weird or not. I don’t care if y’cry on elevators or if y’sing in the shower. You’re m’favorite person t’annoy and I want t’do it, knowing I can kiss you after every joke,” he looked up at her eyes from his crouched position. “Y’don’t have t’waste any more time, lovie. M’right here.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, worried she was going to say no or something just because she was so nervous about all of it. It was twenty years of disliking Harry (well, not really, but yes really). That was twenty years of hating small spaces of getting nervous in crowds and explaining to boyfriends that she couldn’t attend some events even when she wanted to.

But Harry didn’t care.

And she believed him.

She should have begged him to leave her alone because it wasn’t fair to him, and she truly believed that. Harry was so much kinder than she ever, ever imagined. Now he was right, of course. He was right here. Right in front of her. Literally on his knees telling her he wanted her. Despite everything. So instead of opening her mouth where she might say no, she nodded slowly.

He sighed with relief and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her toward him. He carefully squeezed her rubbing his hand up and down her back so soothingly she wanted to cry some more. Harry had the gentlest touch, and it was melting her—inside and out. She sighed into his chest, arms wrapping back around him. She even pressed her face right into his T-shirt and didn’t feel the creeping sensation of doom surrounding her. Instead, all she could smell was the scent of Harry’s laundry detergent and the very essence of Harry.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he sighed into the top of her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. He pushed her away from his body but kept her in between his arms. He really loved touching her face. “Can’t wait t’join you in the shower, now,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes. He wasn’t going to quit, that much was certain. “You should be better than that detachable shower head,” she murmured.

He stared at her fully for at least half a minute, unable to speak. He cleared his throat after what seemed like a lifetime and then kissed the center of her forehead followed by the tip of her nose. Right before he kissed her lips for the first time in their lives, he whispered, “that I have t’see, lovie.”

--

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[pixie-ass]

Tim LaFlour x F!Coquette(ish) reader

Readers a girl in his english class, inspired by the scene of him reading Langston Hughes. They're opposites bc I think the opposite aesthetic trope is so damn cute.

I have a lot of ideas for this trope that I'll try to add!

Warnings - none except for fluff with my fav punk!

°•♡•°

Tim was not the best at poetry. Needless to say, english literature wasn't one of his strongest suits. That's why when the professor had assigned a very long, very taunting poetry book along with an analysis, he was fucked. Not only that but he didn't really know anybody in that class to ask for help and he was sure his roommate, Daryl, was as clueless as him.

As class was dismissed and all the students were beginning to leave, Tim packed his stuff up, sighing as he began to think. The class size wasn't big, so as people walked out, he looked around for anyone who seemed helpful, only to catch eyes with a particular girl.

He'd noticed her since the beginning of the semester. She always sat second row on the right and would never talk unless called on. He noticed all her supplies were a light shade of pink, which he thought suited her. She'd always dress with light colors too, very put together. Tim sat in the row behind her a few seats to her left so he'd always find himself zoning out on her, only because she stood out.

“Do you know how to do this?” He'd take his chance and ask her, she seemed so sophisticated taking notes everyday, he was sure she'd know what she was doing. Her eyes widened and she seemed to go from shock, to confusion, to acceptance all in the span of a second. “Yeah, we're just going through the book assigned and analyzing the poems. Pretty easy.” She smiled as she swung her backpack (light pink of course) over her shoulders.

“I got that, but I don't get it, like how we're supposed to analyze. I suck at this class.” She giggled in response, causing Tim's brows to knit in confusion, he couldn't find what was amusing. “It's pretty simple, if you want, I can help you.” She offered him a sweet smile that caused him to smile. He nodded, “Yeah, that'd be awesome! We can work in my dorm.”

She nodded, “I'm y/n by the way.” She offered her hand out for him to shake. He slipped his hand into hers, feeling her soft skin and admiring how well taken care of her nails were. “Tim! Nice to meet ya." He stared into her eyes almost dumbfounded as he shook her hand, a dumb smile plastered on both their faces.

------

A knock on the door startled Daryl as he sat in the living room, tense from the drug effects. Tim opened the door to his dorm, quickly walking over to the front door and opening it, “Hey! Welcome, welcome, you can make yourself right at home. My rooms over here.” Daryl raised a brow as he watched the very opposite girl walk in. Her light clothed and accessories a blinding contrast to everything Tim owned. It was almost comedic.

“We’re gonna be studying, dawg, so don't interrupt so we can get smart.”

“Yeah man, don't worry. You have fun.” He responded, a teasing hint in his tone.

As the girl walked into his room, she couldn't help but look around, admiring all the punk posters and dark themes. She stood out like a sore thumb. Her white sweater, blue jeans, and pink accessories were almost blinding in there. Tim noticed straight away, letting out a small chuckle as he shut the door. “You listen to any of them?” He asked, pointing to his various punk band posters. As expected, she shook her head, “No, haha. They look sick, though.” This caused Tim to smile as she set her bag down on the floor next to his bed. He motioned for her to sit, and she did.

Immediately, she began pulling out the poetry book and some paper. I guess she was here for business. Tim sat down across from her, getting his own stuff out. As she got a paper, she began explaining, Tim nodding in response as he listened. It seemed a hundred times easier to listen to her than the professor. After explanations he began to understand, they'd take turns reading poems out loud, analyzing, highlighting, and annotating what they agreed was important, (though it was mostly Y/n who would point out most and Tim would just agree since she seemed so pleased).

Tim noticed that when she would concentrate she would chew on the end of her pencil, her glossy pink lips attracting him like a moth to light. She had pretty lips and he couldn't help but stare at them, his own mouth seeming to slightly open as he stared until he had to catch himself multiple times.

After about 2 hours of this, they'd finished more than half the assignment, and they were both more than exhausted. It was nearly midnight. Yawning, y/n shut the poetry book, packing her papers into her folder. They hadn't chit chatted a lot, Tim didn't want to interrupt her focus so as they cleaned up Tim spoke up.

“So do you enjoy poetry? You seemed really into all the poems.” Y/n shrugged as she packed away the last of her things, “I guess I do. I like the beauty and emotion put into poems. They're really beautiful if you read them right.” Her response was said in a sleepy tone but was so sincere, Tim found himself feeling a sort of admiration along with a tingling in his stomach.

He smiled at her as she broke out into a yawn again. “You seem tired, we should get to sleep, eh.” He suggested standing up and fixing his bed to rest. She also stood up, stretching her body. “How fars, your dorm? I can walk you. It's pretty late, so I wouldn't want you to get spooked.” She giggled as he said it. Mostly, his tone was what made her laugh.

“It's all across campus, on the other side of the main hall.” His brows raised in concern. “That far? That's like a 10 minute walk.” He knew it wasn't far but she seemed so tired he wasn't sure if she'd even make it, she looked one blink away from knocking over like a leaf in the wind.

“You'd be better off staying here.” She raised a brow at his comment, a frown appearing on her soft face, “I'm not dumb enough to stay in a college guys dorm for the night. If you're thinking what you are, know I'm not the one.” Her sleepy voice was now stern as she headed for the door, her walk telling him that his comment had made her upset.

“Hey, hey. I didn't mean it like that. I promise! I'm on a no sex, drugs, or anything sinful pact so I swear I didn't mean anything that you're thinking.” He raised his arms up in defense, watching as she stopped and turned around, eyeing him.

“I was just saying, since you look so tired. I think it'd be better for you to just sleep here than walk all the way over there.” She stared at him in silence for a few long seconds.

She was only thinking it through so much since she really found Tim to be cute. Ever since she'd laid eyes on him as he walked in through the door mid-lecture, she'd felt her cheeks go pink. Something about the way he looked, or carried himself, or talked, it all fascinated her, and soon enough, she found herself crushing on him like a high school girl.

Sighing, she responded, “Okay, fine. But only because I really am so exhausted.” Tim's face seemed to go from upset to a beaming smile quickly. “Awesome! You can borrow one of my T-shirts if you want. And you can take the bed. I'll take the floor.” He exited the room after tossing a t-shirt onto the bed, leaving her a very flustered and hot mess. Her heart was racing as she lifted up the shirt he'd left for her. It was of a punk band. It smelled just like Tim. She blushed as she put it on. She blushed as she got into Tim's very soft and warm bed, blushed at how sweet it was for him to offer to sleep on the floor.

As she tucked in, Tim knocked, walking in after she answered and smiled down at the view of her covered in his blanket, completely bundled from neck down.

"Thank you for helping me by the way. Learned more from you then the professor, goodnight.”

He shut the lights off, and y/n heard as he shuffled on the floor. Looking down, she saw him lying with a comically small blanket and a decor pillow. Her heart raced in her ears as she decided if she should speak or not.

“You can sleep on the bed, Tim. It's your bed anyway, so I'd feel terrible if you slept on the floor.” She was also pitied by the sight of his tall figure under that poor excuse of a blanket. She heard him shuffle and next thing he was standing.

“You sure? Really, I'm alright sleeping on the good ole floor.” He chuckled.

“Im sure.” She scooted over to the other side, patting the bed. He didn't hesitate even a second as he tucked in beside her, far enough to not make her uncomfortable. As her eyes adjusted, she could begin to make out his silhouette in the dark. That's when she realized how close he really was, and she found a new found heat on her face. She went to cover her head with the blanket as if he could see her reddened cheeks.

“Tim.? You still awake?” She spoke softly under the covers. The soft ruffle of the pillow case sounded, “Yeah. What's up?” He whispered back.

Her hands seemed to tingle along with the butterflies in her stomach. She uncovered herself and moved her body so she could stare at him and him at her, he was already facing her direction though.

“Thank you for letting me stay, I didn't tell you, but it means a lot that you care.” She offered a sleepy smile as she stared into his face. He smiled back, and though she couldn't see it, she could see the outline of his cheeks when he did so.

“It's no biggie. Just the right thing to do. You tell me if you had a pretty girl in your dorm who was tired and lived far away that you wouldn't feel bad if she was alone.” His statement caused her to let out a small giggle into the sheets, which in turn caused her heart to flutter.

She scooted closer to him, not much, not enough to be noticeable in the dark but enough to where she could feel how warm he was, a huge grin spread across her face. "Goodnight, Tim…" Her eyes were far too heavy to keep open now, she shut them, and without a thought cuddled into Tims side causing him to freeze.

He slowly looked down at her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, her closed eyes and her features. Gently he wrapped his arm around her, feeling her shift closer to him, his heart ramming against his chest. She was so small in his arms, so warm, he felt himself leaning into her head, resting his head against the top of hers, caressing her back as she slept. He wasn't sure why he was doing this or why he felt so much in his gut.

All he knew was that he was happy, holding her and admiring her. That he was feeling far too much all at once.

He'd have to talk to her about this tomorrow. His emotions would be the death of him.

[skzhua]

a price i'm willing to pay | part 27 - play pretend?

MASTERLIST

pairing: ceo!bang chan x entrepreneur!reader

genre: social media!au, arranged marriage, fake relationship, fluff, angst.

warnings: swearing, might have suggestive bits.

summary: following a scandal threatening the survival of your business, you have no choice but to associate yourself with a competitive company.

Needless to say, you were stressed. Even if Chan’s building was not that far from yours, the few minutes you had to wait for him were agonizing. Moving your knee up and down, biting your bottom lip as you stared at the time, picking the skin around your nails… There wasn’t a thing you weren’t doing in attempt to calm yourself.

“You good?” Changbin questioned you as he was heading out for his own lunch break.

“Yup, never been better,” you sent him a thumbs up but by the look on his face, he was not convinced in the slightest.

“I’m going for fried chicken; do you want me to bring you some?”

You swooned at the gesture but shook your head no. “Chan and I will eat together.”

The disappointment was obvious on his face but he smiled nonetheless, waving at you as he walked out. You almost felt bad until you remembered the messages exchanged with Chan. You had no idea what he wanted to talk about. Did he want to discuss your future projects? Was he regretting collaborating with you? Or worst, did he want to divorce you after realizing he made a mistake?

So many things ran through your mind that you didn’t take notice of Chan standing tall in front of your desk, blazer slouched over his shoulder. Once your eyes set on him, you swallowed thickly upon taking in how fucking handsome he was. There were times you could refrain yourself from such thoughts, but you were all over the place today.

“Really? You’re checking me out right now?” he sighed in disappointment, although he still had a hint of amusement in his tone.

“I’m not,” you argued even if you knew the blush on your face would betray you.

“Sure, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “Shall we go?”

“Where?”

He perked an eyebrow up. “To eat..?”

“Right,” you cleared your throat before gathering your jacket and purse clumsily.

There was no denying it; this was the cutest sight Chan had had of you so far. Still, he tried to not let it show through and guided you out to the café nearby. You chose a booth that was a bit further from the other tables so you could have some sort of privacy. You sat down, legs jittering under the table, and motioned the seat across from you for Chan to sit on. Only, as is he was intentionally testing your patience and making you even more nervous on purpose, he shook his head and walked to the lineup at the cash register. From there, he sent a small smile to your direction but you could only roll your eyes. This was one of the instances where you would remember why you despised him in the first place.

It only took him a few minutes but he finally sat with you as he brought along with him two carrot muffins and two lattes. You would lie it you said you didn’t find adorable how he remembered your usual and that he ordered the same for him. Nevertheless, this was not what you were here for.

“How was work this morning?” he asked after taking a sip and you deadpanned at him.

“Really? That’s what you’re going to say first?:

He sighed. “I don’ know how to bring the subject into the conversation smoothly.”

“Just say it as it is, it's killing me how I have no idea what you want to discuss about.”

His gaze softened before he cleared his throat. “I know you said to never bring it up again, but it's been on my mind for months and I think I'll go crazy if I don’t have answers.”

Your body stiffened. You knew exactly what he was referring to. The question was why would he bring it up now, after months since it occurred. If it bugged him so much, you would have maybe let him speak.

“What are your questions?”

He seemed surprised and somewhat relieved to see how calm you remained. “Why did you say to not talk about it again? Are you ashamed of it?”

“Ashamed of it?” you repeated. “No, of course not. It's just- I wasn’t thinking straight that night.”

“So your solution to something you caused was to ignore it,” he scoffed. “Does it mean you regret it?”

“Wasn’t it obvious when I ask you to not mention it again?”

His jaw clenched and he took a sip of his latte as a temporary distraction. “Is it that bad that we kissed?”

“We're business partners, Chan.”

“To you, that’s what we are. But I would have hoped after the year we had, you would maybe consider me as your friend at the very least.”

You gulped at his statement. The thing was, you never knew in what category he fitted. At first, it was your rival. Then, a business partner. But with time, you saw your relationship with him to a level you never thought it would reach. You sought to him for comfort, you would call him at random times to get your mind off things, you would actually enjoy your silly fake dates, and — although you would never admit it out loud — the posts you made about each other online made your heart swoon. He was never your friend, but he wasn’t someone you hated anymore.

“Another thing,” he continued after seeing you would not answer. “If you have something with Changbin, it was never my intention to come between the two of you. Heck, I was even a replacement for him that night since he couldn’t come.”

“That’s not true,” you were quick to correct.

“Why did you invite me over the one time he wasn’t going to be there, then?”

You groaned in frustration. “You and Changbin are two totally different people. In no way did I ever think of you as replacement for him. And to answer your question, it’s because he hates you.”

He took a second to register what you said before speaking again, hesitantly. “Do you have something going on with him?”

“Alright, jealous boy, I think we covered enough ground here,” you tried to dismiss the topic but, clearly, he had no intention for you to do so.

“Y/N, do you?”

You thought for a moment, which in itself would have sent Chan's mind into a whirlwind of overthinking, but you responded. “Wonhee thinks he does have feelings for me, but I don’t see him like this. If so, it would have happened long ago.”

He struggled with containing his satisfied smile. “And, are you seeing anybody?”

“If you don’t count, then no.”

His eyes lingered on yours for a moment which inevitably made you self-conscious of your words. You didn’t think before speaking, and somehow, it felt like you said the right thing. Still, you had no idea what you were implying with this. Did you want to be with him for real? Or did you say that because, in a way, you are seeing each other? The latter sounded like the most likely to be, but the first one had a ring to it that was melody to your ears.

“That’s all I wanted to discuss,” he ended up responding, much to your disappointment. “Just let me know if you do begin to date, because-"

“I won’t.”

He frowned at your interruption. “What?”

“We're married, I'm not going to hoe around for no reason.”

“We're married on paper, Y/N.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. If you are uncomfortable with it, I won’t. Besides, you’re not so bad of a husband.”

His cheeks turned pink while his smile grew, showing his dimples in the process. He sent a wink your way as to tell you he knows what you meant but in all honesty, this took him aback quite a lot. And this was the moment he knew his feelings were definitely stronger than what he had originally thought. In a way, he was grateful you didn’t seem to catch onto his very flustered self. However, a part of him wanted you to know he took this compliment to heart.

“I should get going,” you broke the silence, showing him the time on your phone. “Thank you for the latte and the muffin.”

“It’s nothing. I can walk you to the company.”

You pondered for a second and smiled. “Would you mind?”

“Of course not.”

So, a few minutes later, you were strolling around the city towards your company building. The streets were rather calm, surprisingly, and the little noise there was simply made your surroundings the more welcoming. Today was just perfect.

“We can stop playing pretend, you know?”

His voice caught you off guard. “Come again?”

“You understood me the first time, Y/N,” he breathed out, stopping on his tracks. “How long are we going to keep pretending you and I aren’t something more than just a public relationship? Because, I'll keep going.”

You were out of words, speechless. How could he say something of that sort in such a bold way? You never had the time to think if this would go any further, mainly because you avoided the thought the times it did pop up in your brain. Chan was never the man you'd take interest in, even less in a romantic manner. Not only that, but you had very strong negative feelings towards him not so long ago. But again, the evening strolls with him were always something you looked forward to. The way he'd make the stupidest joke was both something that annoyed you and cheered you up. His crazy sudden dates filled you with adrenaline as you couldn’t wait to see what prepared just for you.

And the kiss at the sleepover. The way he looked so beautiful in the dim light. The softness of his lips that you still think of from time to time to this day. The gently cuddles he gave you the next morning while eating your breakfast…

“I doubt we've been playing pretend this whole time,” you said in a small voice, taking a step towards him.

He took a step closer as well. “Have we not?”

“I don’t think so…”

Crash.

In the middle of the sidewalk, not a care in the world, you were kissing him once again.

“Sunghoon?”

The latter jumped up from his seat, straightening his posture as Jisung arrived at his front desk with a smile plastered on his face. “How can I help you, Mr. Han?”

“There is a last-minute appointment this morning with Miss Park Yoonchae.”

Sunghoon looked at Chris' agenda before frowning. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure,” he answered with a roll of his eyes. “She'll be here at 10, you can send her over right away.”

“Important meeting, I see?”

“Depends of the outcome.”

And as told to Sunghoon, the woman dressed from head to toe in designer clothes was standing before him at ten o’clock sharp. As he would always do, he argued a bit with Yoonchae as she was not marked in Chan's schedule. Nonetheless, he did let her through when receiving a deathly glare from Jisung across the room.

“Mr. Bang should review his front desk staff,” Yoonchae muttered under her breath before coming up to Jisung with her innocent eyes. “Hannie! It's been a while!”

“It has.”

“Is Christopher available right now?” she asked while the man was escorting her to the big boss' office.

“If it isn’t, it must be for an emergency. Otherwise, he’s here,” Jisung affirmed, opening the door wide for the girl to walk in.

Chan was there. Only, he was not alone. Not only was Changbin sitting comfortably across him, but so was Minho. Both of the men turned around at the sound of someone entering and frowned when they took notice of Yoonchae.

“Oh, it was today, wasn’t it?” Chan asked as if the answer was not obvious already. “Yoonchae, right?”

“The one and only,” she smiled, even if her displeasure was evident.

“I apologize for my unprofessionalism; I swear it was not intentional. I can see you next week, if that works for you.”

“No.”

“Oh, well-"

“I didn’t come here today for no reason,” she sighed out, walking up to his desk. “I have an offer.”

“Miss, we're kind of in the middle of-" Changbin began but was quickly shut.

“I'm sure you can wait ten minutes or so.”

Chan and Minho exchanged looks before the latter nodded and gestured for his friend to follow him outside the room. Satisfied, Yoonchae smirked at the boys as she took their latest seats, sprawling her coat on the chair next to her. Jisung sent a thumbs up to Chan, and closed the door.

“What did you come here for?” Chan questioned in a forced way.

“Ad you may know, I have a very influential presence in the media.”

“I am aware; proof of it being the atrocious review you made of my wife and I's products.”

“I have millions of followers,” she went on to say, ignoring Chan’s remark. “Many of which could become potential customers of your brand.”

“What are you getting to?”

“I want to become an ambassador of Bahng Fragrances.”

The first reaction of Chan was to scoff out a laugh. There was no way the person who bashed on every beauty item she found would want to work with him. However, when her face remained unchanged, his own smile fell.

“You were serious.”

“Very serious.”

“I'm afraid I can’t do this.”

It was her turn to scoff. “Mr. Bahng, in all due respect, I think you have no choice.”

“My company's success does not rely on your reviews. An even better reason to refuse is the way you treated my wife.”

“I have nothing but respect for your relationship, but let’s be honest here. You are not actually together.”

Chan shook his head in disbelief. “How can you make such an assumption?”

“Because Jisung told me.”

In the split of a second, Chan froze in place. Either she was playing with him, or she was telling the truth.

“Jisung would never do that.”

“Oh, but I have text messages at hands to prove it. I can post them online whenever I please,” she giggled, holding her phone up high. “So? How about we work together, Mr. Bang?”

taglist 1: @lenilla15 | @muddy-waters | @nanaspalette | @nattisbored | @popcatx0 | @vanblack95 | @aestheticsluut | @thanxxskz | @minhoino | @taetertotsv | @luvscrazy | @lethallyprotected | @foxinnie8 | @jisuperboard | @jihanlovic | @soobin-chois | @jinxwhore28 | @purplelandsworld | @yeojoongiee | @smugrogerina | @jaehyunicecream | @urmomlikeslinotoo | @syprosight | @thesassy-mia | @chaotic-world-of-the-j | @heartsforlevi | @miyakoa | @seungincore | @skzsilentcryy | @owotalks | @hanjsquokka | @evermourning | @bangchansbae | @qweebarse | @linosllvr | @kpopsstuffs | @tinyelfperson | @jabmastersupriseee | @imsiriuslyreal | @chrizzztopherbang | @ilovejeongin_007

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[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Is there hope in us, still? (is there something worth believing in?)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.4k

genre: fluff, kinda angsty

warnings: slytherin reader, the good good post summer break mental illness, everybody's having some issues here, there will be a pt.2 next week to give it a happy happy ending but this isn't so bad, it has a hopeful ending on its own

a/n: wowie another one lol hope y'all enjoy <3

Sirius is hollow when he gets back from summer break - quiet and petulant in a way that doesn't suit him anymore, snapping at his peers and pulling away from people's touch. You can't blame him. Especially not when you're feeling the same. You're not quite as showy about it as he is, that constant, underlying desperation to keep it all hidden burning under your skin. Sirius's suffering is loud - loud enough that you always hope it will drown out yours. It never really does, as far as the other two are concerned. 

He shoves towards the door when class ends, likely stalking back to his dorm to hole up for the rest of the evening. James sighs, a hand on Remus' shoulder comfortingly as the boy stares at the doorway where Sirius just was, his brow furrowed in that worried way that he's mastered. 

"We're going to do some studying together in the common room later… see if maybe Pads feels like joining. You're always welcome to come along with us…?" James asks in that gentle way of his, patiently hopeful. You busy yourself with gathering up your books, knowing that if you look at him, you'll crumble. There is love in the way he looks at you, despite everything. You're sure that, if you take notice of it, it would be enough to condemn you these days.

"I'm going to do some work alone tonight," you say shortly, brushing past the two of them. Remus catches your arm as you try to leave, fingers wrapping around your wrist ever so gently. But when you pause, he lets go of you abruptly, like there's something wrong with his touch against yours. This is the beginning, you think. This is where I start to lose you. 

"If you change your mind…" he begins softly. You nod stiffly.

"I'll let you know." James and Remus watch as you leave swiftly, Remus rubbing the palm of his hand against his thigh, as if trying to take back the contact he'd already made with your wrist. This is where it starts, he thinks. This is where you begin to realize that I'm better when I'm left behind.

Remus has to stop himself from startling later that night when he's woken up by a cold hand shaking his shoulder. You hadn't come to study with them that evening, which wasn't surprising, but it hurt something in Remus. James, especially, had deflated, his eyes dull and his hands fidgety while he tried desperately to finish his essay, his thoughts wandering to Sirius and the dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin - and then to you, to the stubborn set of your jaw and the hard look in your eyes. Looking down at his own hands, he wonders what worth they have if he can't even save the people he loves.

Needless to say, the last thing Remus was expecting was to have you in his dorm in the middle of the night, one of Sirius's sweaters shoved hastily over your pajamas as you shook him awake. You place a finger over his lips when he wakes abruptly, climbing up next to him without so much as a word as he fumbles to find his wand on his nightstand, casting a silencing spell over the four-poster bed.

"What's going on, dove?" he asks, his hands itching to hold your face, to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your cheeks and soothe you in some way. But he resists - you're here, in his bed, looking at him like you need him, and the last thing he wants is to overwhelm you and have you scared away. The last thing he can bear to do is put his hands on you, his scars glinting against unblemished skin -  something ruined touching something holy.

"I just… couldn't sleep. I'm not - I haven't been sleeping well these days," you respond, and Remus is sure that if he could see you clearly, if he weren't squinting at you through the dark, you'd be shying away, face tilted away from his eyes, away from any kind of vulnerability.

"Well," he says carefully, reaching out to put a hand on your knee. You don't pull away, to his relief. In fact, you relax a bit into it, letting your posture slouch. "Stay here then, yea?" Much to Remus's delight, that's all it really takes for you to move forward, pulling the blankets back to settle underneath them. He joins you, of course, settling in next to you and letting you decide how much - or how little space to leave between your bodies.

When you reach your hand over, cupping his cheek in your palm and smoothing your thumb over the skin there, he feels a part of him melt in the relief of it, a part of him that didn't realize quite how much he'd missed your touch - your love. He cups his hand over yours, tilting his head to press a series of kisses across your palm. When you continue to let him, sagging further into the pillows, he keeps going, trailing kisses up and down each finger and finishing with your thumb. 

It's then that you pull him closer, tilting your own face up to place your own gentle kiss to his lips before thumping your head against his chest. He lets you, of course, keeping his hand tangled up with yours while the other wraps around you. Before you can sleep, though, he leans close to whisper near your ear.

"James has been wondering where the invisibility cloak disappeared to. I'm sure he'll be pleased to know you're the one who ran off with it." You can't help but smile at his words, your face still pressed against his chest.

"You have so little faith in me, Rem. Not everyone needs the cloak to sneak around in this castle."

"But you did steal it, didn't you?'

"…I'll give it back to him later." Remus huffs out a quiet laugh at your confession, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"You know he doesn't mind," he soothes. You squeeze his hand in thanks where your fingers are still interlocked.

"Goodnight, Rem… and thank you for this."

"No need to thank me, love. I don't mind at all."

Something clatters to the floor on the other side of the locked bathroom floor and Remus frowns, staring at it like he can burn a hole big enough to see Sirius on the other side - to make sure he's ok. James drapes himself over Remus's back where they're sitting on James's bed together, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Remus lets him, leaning back against him and feeling James sigh at the weight of it, a bit of tension draining from him.

"Were they really here last night? They really came and spoke with you?" James says, his face buried in Remus's neck, a desperate sort of lilt to his voice. Tell me there is hope, he thinks. Tell me I can fix this, still.

"You saw the note they left, love," Remus lets his eyes settle on his nightstand where you'd left the invisibility cloak, a note folded on top with a simple thank you written in it, a heart scrawled next to it that he recognized as yours. The whole thing almost made up for the fact that, by the time Remus had woken up, you'd already been gone.

"Do you think… things will be better now? At least a bit? Were things better last night?" James asks, his arms tightening around Remus's waist. Remus, in an act of reassurance, wraps his fingers around one of James's hands and squeezes gently as Sirius stalks out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and stomping away.

"I do think things are getting better. It's… slower than you and I would like, I know. But all we can is love them - and that, my dear Prongs, I know you can do." James grumbles something unintelligible at the compliment, his face still hidden from view. Remus is sure that, if he could see it, he'd be greeted by the flushed red of James's cheeks. He settles for bringing one of his hands up to press kisses across it, instead, content to bring a bit of hope back to the person he loves - to do something good with this body of his. 

There is hope, he thinks, in this love they all share. There is something here to fight for, still.

[doe-eyed-fool]

Guess who’s back!(sorry if you’re sick of me but my squirrel brain has blessed me again!)

Lucifer X Reader whose love language is food, loves eating, cooking, and sharing food. Shows their care for Luci by buying him or cooking food, making sure that every time they’re together that he’s fed. Cuz you can’t tell me that this man doesn’t forget to eat. Reader always asks if he ate today and always insists on making something if he hasn’t. Packs up leftovers for him to enjoy later and almost always knocks at his office door with a plate of food, a snack, or something sweet she baked.

I love this so much, he deserves to be taken care of like the princess he is🥺

Also no way am I sick of you, I like getting requests! Especially cute ones like this

Made With Love

Lucifer x Reader

Being the king of hell came with a lot of responsibilities. Meetings with the other sins and powerful demons, mountains of paperwork, and now he was a full time father again.

It was all time consuming. But whenever he had some time for himself, he would usually pour himself into his, duck focused, creations. He'd be tinkering away for hours, he wouldn't even know that it was the middle of the night until he nearly passed out in the middle of his work.

At that point, he was too tired to feed himself and would just flop down onto the bed. Only to wake up and repeat it all over again.

That is, until you showed up. You and Lucifer had been dating a little while after the hotel was rebuilt. And once you learned of his unhealthy habits, needless to say, you were a little more than upset. But mostly concerned.

"Luci?" You open the door to Lucifer's workshop. Lucifer responds with a light "hm?" as you walked inside. He didn't even look at you, he must be really invested in whatever he was working on. You walked up beside him and look down.

There were noticeable bags under his eyes, and his hair was a bit of a mess. Worst of all, his hands were shaking. "Lucifer? How long have you been at this?" You ask.

"Oh uh, a few..." Lucifer looks up at the clock. His eyes widen slightly. "Hours..."

You frown and cross your arms. "Lucifer." Your tone was stern, but not harsh. Lucifer sighed and set down his tools. "I know. I'm sorry." You place your hand on his shoulder. "Have you had a break at all? Or eaten anything since you started?"

Just as you asked that, there was a rumble that came from Lucifer's stomach. And that was all the answer you needed. "Alright." You say before helping Lucifer up. "Come with me." You walk him out of the room. "B-But my-"

"You can finish it later." You interrupt him. "Right now, you're going to take a break and eat something." You lead Lucifer to the kitchen and sit him down at the table.

You would have started on something new, but you were willing to bet Lucifer hadn't ate since breakfast. So for right now, you decided to heat up last night's leftovers.

"It's not new but, you need to eat something now. I saw you shaking back there." You say as you placed the dish in the microwave. You turn and walk to the table. "Luci, you have to start taking better care of yourself. I'm worried."

Lucifer frowns slightly. "I know. I'm sorry, Y/n, really. It's just...I get so busy and, whenever I get a minute to myself, I usually just go to my workshop. It's a stress reliever, you know? But I understand, I get a little too into it and loose track of time and everything else."

You place your hand on his. "Well, it's a good thing you have me now." You chuckle. "I'll help you out with this, I promise." Lucifer smiled and held your hand. "Thank you, Y/n."

And so, you decided to do something nice for him. Every morning he'd wake up, you'd present him with breakfast, truly fit for a king. You'd also make sure to send lunch with him whenever he had a meeting. And at the end of the day, you'd make dinner for you and him both.

Lucifer was a tad overwhelmed by this, but of course he was appreciative every time you cooked for him. You worked so hard after all. And it was always very delicious.

One day, when he was in his workshop, you walked in with a tray in your hands. "Luci, I brought you something." Lucifer looked up from his work and faced you. On the tray was apple slices with a side of peanut butter and caramel, along with his favorite tea.

"Oh, Y/n you didn't have to." He says with a smile. You sat the tray down on a table next to him. "But I wanted to." You tell him. "You also give me no choice mister." You say teasingly. Yes, Lucifer knew, or finally realized more like it, that he wasn't taking care of himself like he should have been.

He had no idea how much he missed a good home cooked meal before he met you.

"Heh, yeah...Thank you, Y/n. Really, you do so much for me. I have no idea how I could repay you."

You smile softly and hand him the tea cup. "Just try to take better care of yourself, that's thanks enough. Oh, and I was thinking tonight I'd make something really nice. Maybe we can invite Charlie over too?"

Lucifer graciously took the cup and nods. "That sounds nice. It's been a while since Charlie's come over. Maybe she can bring Maggie with her too."

"Vaggie, Lucifer. Vaggie." You laugh. "Oh. Right." Lucifer chuckles lightly. "In any case, I look forwards to it. I'll help you too, if you want."

"Sure, I'd like to see what the big boss can do in the kitchen." You say with a playful grin. "You'd be surprised." Lucifer smirks. "But no magic. You're doing it by hand." You tell him. Lucifer's confidence dropped.

"Oh. Well, shit."

You laugh and pat his shoulder. "You'll do fine. You have me to teach you."

Lucifer's smile returned. "Yeah. You always do make the best food."

[hotchs-big-hands]

dbf & corruption link Hotch with plus-sized reader who didn’t think he would ever be interested in HER and is so naive about it omfg the gif u reposted fuckkk I can’t stop thinking about it

YEAHHHH YOU GET IT

Okay I didn't realise I was gonna turn this into a whole fic JWFJEKFKDKFKRK (I'm writing this midway through the fic rn whoops 🫣)

Reader is early 20s and lives at home with her dad. I cba writing too much abt it in the plot sorry lol

Dbf!Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader|Minors dni NSFW|5.9K words

Warning(s): SMUT, Corruption kink, fingerfucking, sir/daddy kink 👀, almost getting caught

(d/n) = dad's name

It wasn't often you met your dad's friends, they only really managed a few meet ups a year with how busy people's lives were these days. And so when your dad approached you to inform you he was attending a meal out with said friends you were happy for him. But you didn't expect him to offer you to join him.

"My buddies have been wondering how you're getting on," he had said, standing in the doorway of your bedroom. "You should come along, sunny. The guys are bringing along their partners but eh, you know me. As big of a bachelor as one can be."

You rolled your eyes with a chuckle, but within your stomach you felt it coiling with anxiety. And you knew he could tell from the change of expression on his face.

"Hey... you don't actually have to come along if you're not comfortable. I know you don't really, uh, enjoy these sorts of things."

"No, no! I'll come along. Um, I just don't really remember any of your friends by name." You said quickly. He chuckled and shook his head, and you knew if he was closer he would have ruffled your hair affectionately.

"Fair enough, sunny. That's a relief actually, given that I already booked for you to come along as well."

With a gasp, you thumped your dad lightly.

"Dude!" You cried, making him laugh and step back a little.

"Well, we're aiming to meet up around seven tonight so be sure to be ready by half six." He grinned at you and you felt yourself returning the expression. It was nice seeing your dad looking a lot happier these days.

By the time you were dressed up ready for the meal that night you were inwardly panicking. Had you overdressed? Underdressed? Why did it even matter what his friends thought? Oh god, having to eat in front of his friends?! Needless to say, you were an absolute mess. Your dad grabbed one of your hands to squeeze it comfortingly as the two of you sat in the back of a taxi on the way to the restaurant and your lips curled up slightly in appreciation. It would be okay. There was no need to panic.

The ride was all too short to calm your nerves and at this point you felt jittery. It was too late to back out now though, and you quickly climbed out of the taxi when your dad walked around to open your door for you, mumbling a quick thanks and smoothing out the skirt of your pretty dress. You hadn't gone with anything flashy, opting to wear a mid-thigh length white dress that was covered in tiny blue flowers with a dropped neckline, some pretty knee-high socks and white sneakers. It made you feel good, your large curves complimented your outfit and you felt less inclined to shy away right now. With a quick adjustment of the strap of your bag, you followed your dad into the restaurant.

Oh... it was certainly more posh than you anticipated. Had your dad's friends always been this fancy?! Those coils of anxiety only tightened more as your dad spoke to the waiter about the booking. And then you were both escorted to a large table where six other people were already seated.

"Well look who it is! (D/n), you're looking well!" One of the men exclaimed cheerfully. You vaguely recognised the faces around the table, but not enough to know them by name. The man's eyes flicked to you and his eyes widened. "Goodness! Is that your little one?! You're all grown up!"

Your cheeks felt hot as you quickly sat down beside your dad, smiling shyly at the outspoken friend.

"Yeah, it's me. I don't think you guys have seen me since I was... eleven?" You conversed quietly. One of the wives of a different friend leaned forward, eyes sparkling.

"You look gorgeous, sweetie!"

Beside you, your dad could feel you trembling slightly and chuckled, waving his friends off.

"Alright, alright let the girl be."

As the attention drifted from you and the conversations changed to the mundane of friends catching up after a long time, your eyes drifted around the table. Your brows slightly pulled together. There was an empty seat next to you on your left. You gently nudged your dad, who turned to you.

"What's up, sunny?" He asked quietly. You offered a quick smile of reassurance.

"Um, is there meant to be someone else here?"

His eyes flicked to the empty chair, then back to you.

"Ohhh right yes! You remember Mr Hotchner, right? He's running a little late but he should be here soon."

No, you didn't quite remember Mr Hotchner. It had been years since you'd heard anything surrounding that name. All you knew was he had a very involved job that took him all over the country. As you sat deep in thought your dad's voice cut through as he made a humming noise, mouth full of beer. You glanced at him, noting he was looking over your shoulder at someone. But before you could turn you heard the chair next to you slide on the polished floor and shuffle as someone sat down in it. A wave of an alluring cologne flooded your senses and you slowly turned back to facing the table, heart racing. Then you heard him.

"I'm sorry I'm late, we just got back from a case. Barely had time to freshen up at home before coming here." Mr Hotchner spoke smoothly, voice deep and sensually gentle. You dared to glance next to you and you clenched your pillowy thighs together. Fucking christ, he was sexy! With the corner of his mouth turned upwards, the man oozed assurance and control as he greeted his friends around the table. Your eyes couldn't stop wandering over his features, the scattered beauty marks on his mature skin, the eyebags under his dark eyes, the prominent slope of his nose that you quickly had to move on from to not let your mind wander too much... His hair was short with a few stray wisps flopping onto his forehead and you could have sworn you could spot a few streaks of grey in it too.

And then he turned to look at you and your father. He raised a brow, feigning surprise.

"Oh hello, Mr (L/n). It's been a very long time since I saw you last. And this must be..." his eyes drifted to you, his lips twitching.

"(Y/n), sir." You managed to say, feeling hot and flustered. You dad chortled.

"My lovely sunny is here to humor her old man! Don't spook her."

"Spook me?" You squeaked. Mr Hotchner chuckled and shook his head.

"He's referring to me profiling people as part of my job. It tends to freak people out." He explained to you in that delicious voice of his. "And please, call me Aaron. Calling me sir makes me feel old."

Aaron didn't look even the slightest bit annoyed, his smirk only growing as his eyes travelled up and down your figure. You shivered.

"I- I see... Could you tell me more about this, um, profiling stuff? I don't really know what you do for a living." You admitted. Aaron had ordered a bourbon, taking hold of the glass and sipping some of the deep orange coloured liquid and setting the glass down again.

"Oh? Well, seeing as you're curious..."

You barely remembered the meal you had ordered, more engrossed in the conversation you were having with this man. He was so fascinating, passionate and when the topic of his son came up his smile softened and he pulled his wallet out to show you a photo of the cute boy. That... hm. You didn't want to think about the fact that he had already been through something as involved as having a child with someone. There was no place for you to be thinking about this man any more than a daughter of his best friend should.

But here you were, spending the night chatting to the man effortlessly whilst your heart fluttered. It was only when your dad tapped you on the shoulder that you realised the evening was coming to an end.

"Hey sunny, I know you're having a great chat with Aaron there but it's time to get going." He said with a chuckle. Your eyes widened slightly and you scowled, shoving him with your shoulder.

"Say less dad, I beg." You shot back quickly, cheeks flushing as you followed along with him pushing away from the table and standing up. Your hands smoothed out your dress, making sure all was in place again and you shuffled closer to standing next to your dad. It was when Aaron rose up slowly from his own seat with an air of grace that you realised you had to crane your neck a bit to look him in the face. The corner of his mouth twitched at the slight widening of your eyes when he straightened up and you dipped your head quickly.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to try see you again. Although, I'm not certain on when that would be." He spoke, eyes focused on you. Your dad reached forward to shake his hand, seemingly oblivious to what was happening.

"Whenever you're back in town Aaron, you're free to come visit, my pleasure." He shook firmly, but Aaron was barely focussed. With an unwavering eye contact, his smirk widened. You could feel your legs trembling slightly under his fiery gaze.

"Oh, the pleasure is mine."

When their hands dropped, Aaron turned to you and offered to shake your hand as well, his hand smothering yours when you hesitantly reached out to take it. He gazed down at you, his thick lashes framing his gorgeous brown eyes.

"Until next time, (Y/n)." He said quietly and then turned around and walked away. Your dad raised a brow at you as you watched the older man retreat but merely chuckled once under his breath.

"Come on you, taxi's on its way." Your dad pulled you from your daze and you blinked, cheeks feeling warm for being caught staring. With a huff, you slapped your dad's shoulder when you noticed the growing grin on his face.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up."

Over the next couple months, you saw Aaron briefly as he passed by in between cases. Each time, no matter for how short of a time, he would stop to chat and get to know you a little more. And every time you felt your crush grow stronger and stronger. But suddenly, he stopped showing up. You never heard from him, not a peep. Humiliatingly, when you idly asked your father if he had heard from the man he showed you the communications he had had from the last time Aaron had been in town to now. To say the least it left you feeling crushed and stupid.

Another month flew by after that before you saw Mr Hotchner again. For the first couple weeks you were secretly hopeful he would show up again, checking up every time you returned from work. But he never showed. And it... well, it didn't feel good to miss someone you had only met properly once and had a couple smaller conversations after that with. Maybe he knew you had a stupid crush on him and was put off from showing up. He had no reason to want someone like you, after all. By the sixth week since you'd seen the man last you'd forced yourself to move on from being hopeful.

And then when you returned home from work one evening you noticed an unfamiliar car parked at the end of the driveway. Tired, you paid it no mind and trudged up to the front door and let yourself in with your key. You shuffled into the house and locked the door behind you, then made a move to enter the living room.

"Hey, dad? I'm home." You called out. There was a scuffle of feet and the very same man appeared with a grin.

"Ah, there you are! We have a guest over, as you probably could tell." He said cheerily and you chuckled.

"Mhm, well I'll just go and change upstairs. Be back in a sec."

With a ruffle of your hair from your dad, you rushed upstairs and decided to take a shower to wash the exhaustion of the day away. After you'd dumped your bag on your bed, you grabbed your towel and a fresh set of lounging clothes to lay out on your bed and made your way to the bathroom which was down the hall. Avoiding looking in the large vanity mirror, you stripped and stepped under the warm water of the shower once you'd switched it on.

"Mmh.." you groaned as the water sprayed down your achy muscles. For a moment, you simply stood there with your eyes closed as you basked in the soothing sensation. A moment later you lathered your plush body with your favourite soaps, taking care to glide your hands over your every curve. Idly, you thought of him, of those hands of his. You switched the water to cold.

Feeling clean and relaxed, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped your towel around yourself. Now all there was to do was return to your bedroom. As you crossed the hall, you heard the tap of footsteps making their way up the staircase. As sneakily as you could, you peeked to see who was ascending and a little squeak escaped you against your will. Still just as devastatingly handsome as the last time you saw him, Mr Hotchner was gaining closer and closer to your location and with a quick jump of action you scurried the rest of the way to your room and all but slammed your door shut.

Your chest heaved, adrenaline pumped through you and shakily you towelled yourself off and redressed in the fresh clothing. Maybe it was better if you changed, you thought as you looked down at the slightly more fitted tank top and shorts you were sporting now.

"No, don't be ridiculous." You mumbled to yourself and after hanging your towel up to dry you forced your legs to move towards your bedroom door and back out to the hallway. It was when you made it to the top of the stairs he called out to you.

"Oh, (Y/n). I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were exiting the bathroom earlier." Aaron said smoothly, startling you to spin on your axel towards him. Shit, had he seen you?!

"Um, it's fine. No harm done." You mumbled in response, shifting your weight from one hip to the other under his dark gaze. His brow twitched.

"Right."

Much to your dismay, he was by your side quicker than you realised and the two of you descended down to find your dad. With every step, the back of Aaron's hand would brush against the side of your arm accidentally, causing goosebumps to spring up across your skin. What were you to say to this man now?

"It's...it's been a while since you were last in town." You said finally, internally wincing and wishing you'd stayed quiet. The man beside you hummed.

"Had an onslaught of back-to-back cases. This is the first time my team and I have been able to catch a break. And... well, we won't get into it just yet." Aaron responded, his exhaustion barely suppressed behind his words. You wanted answers, to know why he showed up now or all times. Of what he wouldn't get into. Instead, you made a barely audible noise in response.

Glancing at the man you realised he was full on frowning now and you cleared your throat, chest aching.

"Oh! I see you found her then, huh?" The sound of your dad's voice startled you and you quickly stepped away from the older man beside you. Rounding the corner, your dad appeared wearing a jacket and shoes over his clothes, confusing you.

"Dad? Where are you going?" You asked.

"Just going to the store to grab some food."

Aaron frowned and stepped forward, stuffing his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet.

"Here, let me head to the store or at least pay for the inconvenience." He said but your dad huffed and straightened out his jacket.

"No, you're our guest, Aaron. Now grab yourself a drink and relax, buddy."

Shaking his head but smiling, Aaron reluctantly stuffed his wallet away and raised his hands in defeat.

"Next time is on me, (D/n)."

"Deal." Your dad grinned, then he shifted his focus to you. "You be a good host now, got it?"

You grimaced.

"I mean I don't mind going, he's here to see you anyway so.."

"Nonsense, I'm here to visit both of you." The man beside you said, of which your dad chuckled.

"Well there you go, he said it himself. Now I'm going out so we're not waiting too late having dinner."

You scoffed at his words but inwardly your heart was pounding. He was seriously leaving you home alone with Mr Hotchner?! Your eyes flitted to the man, who was seemingly paying attention to your father as he moved towards the front door. It was only when you heard the slam of the door that it truly sunk in; you were home alone with the man you'd grown an embarrassingly big crush on while simultaneously feeling an unjustified anger towards.

On shaky legs, you shuffled towards the kitchen to grab a drink and calm your nerves. Just as you grabbed a glass from the cupboard he spoke.

"Are you alright?" Aaron's voice startled you once again and automatically your hand let go of the glass cup, a crash following as it smashed into glistening, sharp shards. You'd barely gasped when Aaron appeared crouched before you, picking larger shards up immediately.

"I'm sorry." He uttered, snapping you out of your startled trance. You crouched down as well as you shook your head vigorously.

"No, it's okay. It's my fault-"

You looked up and froze, realising your faces were far closer than you'd anticipated. He was frowning, then he straightened up rapidly to dump the shards of glass in his hands in the trashcan.

"Please, leave the clean up to me. I was the one who startled you. Besides, you haven't got shoes on right now. So, can you hop up on the counter top?" He asked you, his tone more firm than you'd heard before. It made your lower lip jut out. You made a noise of acknowledgement, straightened up and braced your palms on the counter top behind you to help yourself onto it. Aaron had turned back to you by this point, a wash of satisfaction traced over his more alert expression at the sight of you safely away from the shards on the ground.

"Vacuum?" He simply said. You winced.

"O-oh.. um, it's in the storage under the staircase."

With a nod, Aaron swiftly left the room, his footsteps echoing through the house. God, could you feel anymore embarrassed than you did already in that moment? He had to clean up after you because you were incapable of functioning around him. You wished you had a crush on someone nearer your age, at least they wouldn't find you so childish as you suspected Aaron did. With your head hanging low you didn't even notice him re-enter the room, not until he padded towards you carefully and set the vacuum down.

"Hey... it's alright, just an accident. I didn't mean to scare you." He said softly. You sniffled and shook your head.

"S'fine. I'm okay." You mumbled. He paused for a moment, then placed a hand on your knee.

"I'll just quickly clean this mess up, alright sweetheart? I'll be with you as soon as I can."

Your head shot up at the pet name, wet eyes wide as you studied his face. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, despite the concerned furrow in his brow.

"There you are. Just sit tight, don't want any glass to hurt you."

You watched as Aaron set up the vacuum cleaner and, crouched again, he hastily but thoroughly removed the debris from the floor. When he was satisfied, he unplugged the machine and lifted it up, the muscles in his arms bulging in his neat dress shirt. Your eyes followed him, but dropped away when he glanced your way.

"Um thanks, Mr Hotchner." You uttered and made a move to slide off the counter top. And then one of his long legs pressed against your shin, willing you to stay in place.

"Ah, ah, ah wait there." He muttered.

You quivered and shuffled back onto the counter top properly. What on earth..? You watched him leave again, swinging your legs nervously. Surely he had got rid of all the glass, right? You were unable to ponder for long when Aaron returned again, eyes on you as he approached. Your brows creased.

"Um I'm sure I can move, right? You got all the glass."

He hummed, stopping in front of you now, gaze still unwavering.

"Can't be too careful now, can we?" He said with a little smirk. You swallowed thickly.

"I..."

"May I talk to you about something?"

Your eyes trailed over his face, noting on an emotion you hadn't spotted upon first inspection. Slowly, you shook your head.

"Um yes, you can, Mr Hotchner."

He puffed air out of his nose.

"You don't need to be so formal with me, (Y/n)."

You dropped your gaze.

"Sorry, can't help it." You managed to say, feeling shy and silly. He leaned one hip against the counter beside you, crossing his arms against his broad chest.

"Don't apologise, sweetheart." He shifted his weight, now a little closer still to you. His scent enveloped you, it was soothing. "I... wanted to apologise for disappearing for a long time." He finally said. You shuddered.

"Um, it's okay-"

The sound of him clearing his throat silenced you and rendered you unable to do anything more than stare wide-eyed at him. He hummed and raised a brow.

"Sweetheart, you do know I can tell when someone is lying, right?"

Fuck.

"Mr Hotchner, sir I- I'm not lying, It's okay-"

Aaron moved suddenly, caging you in by placing his hands either side of your wide, plump hips and stared you down.

"Tsk. Don't be naughty by doubling down on lying." He gazed through his thick lashes now, leaning his face closer to yours. His scent overwhelmed you now and you bit back a whimper. "Come now, I upset you and I want to make things right."

You squeezed your eyes shut and gripped onto your shorts tightly, balling the fabric up in your tight fits.

"F-fine. I just... why did you stop visiting all of a sudden?" You wrinkled your nose a little and huffed. "God, I sound like a fucking weird-"

"No. Allow me to explain."

You exhaled quietly, not expecting him to cut you off like that. He sighed and lifted his hands up to rub his face.

"I... well, I had to distance myself from you. Not because I don't enjoy seeing you, it's more the opposite. I have feelings for you which I most certainly should not have, not as a friend of your father." He said, fumbling his thumb and pointer finger together.

You froze.

Was this really happening? Your heart felt like it was racing, your stomach coiling as you stared at him.

"I- Mr Hotchner, you..."

Aaron grimaced and shifted his weight, ready to step back from you.

"I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. I knew this was a bad idea to tell you, but I just thought you should know why I had started avoiding you." He said sincerely, then dropped his arms and turned his body.

You didn't know why you did it, but your hand shot out and you grabbed his shirt.

"-No! Don't- don't go!"

Aaron's breath hitched from your outburst, but he also didn't try to pull away from your touch either.

"(Y/n)..."

You felt warm, dropping your gaze whilst your fingers messed with the expensive fabric of his shirt.

"I- I don't want you to leave. You didn't make me uncomfortable." You mumbled. The man waited for you to continue speaking as you opened your mouth and closed it a few times. "I, um, I just wasn't expecting you to say you were interested in me."

Your eyes flicked to his face and you sucked your lower lip between your teeth at the furrowed expression on his face.

"You thought I wasn't interested in you?" Aaron's brows raised and he stepped a little closer towards you. "Sweetheart, I don't tend to talk to people outside of my close circle much at all, and, admittedly, I don't often visit people very often. But I just had to see you again."

His confession made you feel strange in a way you couldn't pinpoint on. Not necessarily bad, but a little unsure. Your eyes met his beautiful dark brown ones.

"Mr Hotchner, I don't see why you-"

"Call me that one more time and you'll be calling me sir instead." He cut you off sternly and you gasped. His left hand moved to rest on the counter just barely brushing against the outer side of your thigh and he leaned towards you, his face almost close enough for the two of you to kiss.

"I want you, sweetheart. I've spent the last few months trying to clear you from my thoughts," He paused to let out a small sigh. "However, you remain embedded within the foundations of my mind and I've come to accept this wholly. But just tell me if you don't want this and I will never bring this to you again, I promise."

Your eyes trailed over his face, tracing the creases and lines of age and you longed to feel them under your fingertips. You grabbed onto his arm.

"I-I want this... please. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you too." You confessed with a shy smile. Aaron chuckled through an exhale of relief and he began to close the gap between your lips and his.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Desperately, you pressed your lips to his and moved your hands to grip onto his broad shoulders. Responding to you, Aaron's hands moved to grab onto the squish of your hips, digging into them as he pulled you ever closer towards him. Now chest to chest, you whined against his mouth and instinctively, your legs parted enough for him to slip between.

All too soon, you parted for oxygen, your chest heaving and straining under your lounging tee. Aaron brushed his nose against yours sensually, his thumbs stroking your hips.

"I estimate your father will be gone for forty-five minutes at most." He murmured and you whimpered.

"Y-yes, maybe..."

"Sweet girl, I want to make sure you know how I feel, truly."

Your hands tightened their grip on the shirt.

"H-how?"

He chuckled, pressing a light kiss to your lips.

"If you'll let me, sweet girl, I want to pleasure you. We'll have to be quick though, at least this time round."

This time, this time. You felt light headed in the best way.

"W-what do you wanna do?" You hesitantly asked him. Aaron slid his hands to the expanse of your thighs with a hum.

"You don't know how much I wanted to slip my hand up your dress that night we met to touch your pretty pussy, sweetheart- "

"M-Mr Hotchner!" You squeaked, cheeks flushing from the dirty confession. A deep rumble reverberated through him and one of his hands lightly slapped your thigh. You jolted, but he held you in place.

"That's it, little girl. I don't want to hear any other title other than 'sir' from you now until I say so, is that clear?"

You nodded. Another slap, slightly closer to your inner thigh. You gasped out.

"Y-yes sir!"

Satisfied, Aaron hummed and grabbed onto your thighs and, with a hint of a smile, he pulled you closer to the edge and spread your legs wider. You yelped, hands grasping onto any part of him you could to steady yourself and he chuckled whilst pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth.

"Mhm, gonna let me take a look, sweetheart?" He murmured against your skin, fingers dancing along the waistband of your shorts. You whimpered.

"I-I-" Fuck, you didn't know what to even say. You'd done minimal things with others before, but they were underwhelming experiences and you preferred to close that chapter of your life. But here you were, sprawled out on the kitchen counter with your father's friend who was more than twice your age, trying to process what he had asked you.

Aaron brushed his nose against yours, bringing you from your racing thoughts.

"Aww, don't know what you want, sweet girl? It's alright, let daddy help you." He cooed. Almost immediately, your body spasmed with the way he addressed himself and he huffed out a quiet laugh. "You like that, huh? Like the thought of calling me daddy?"

You whimpered, hips rolling against his with need.

"Uh-huh, I do."

"Say it then, I want to hear it. Then I'll give you anything you want."

Your eyes widened at the commanding tone he used. Your pussy twitched.

"I- I do, daddy. Wanna call you daddy really badly."

"Mhmm.." Aaron pressed his lips to yours again and your hands gripped his shirt again. You could feel the prominent bulge in his pants against your clothed slit now, subconsciously grinding yourself against it. With a low growl, Aaron pulled his lips from yours sharply and his hands grasped your thighs to pin you in place. You whined, trying to push back and feel the friction against your pussy again.

"Behave, little girl. Now lift your butt up for me." He commanded you and, desperate for his touch, you propped yourself up on your elbows to raise your ass from the counter top. You vaguely heard him call you a good girl before he slipped his finger tips into the band of your shorts and, with a swift pull, he removed them. You squeaked, automatically closing your legs but Aaron growled, tugging your plush thighs apart again. Your chest heaved, arousal flaring within you as you realised he was staring directly at your panties. His mouth twitched.

"Pretty panties on such a pretty girl."

You whimpered when he let go of your right thigh to slide his thick fingers over a wet patch on the crotch of fabric. Your hips bucked, you hadn't realised just how pent up you were.

"D-daddy- please!" You pleaded and he cooed at you with a smirk.

"Want daddy to play with your little pussy, huh? We'll have to be quick if you wanna cum."

You nodded eagerly, grinding your hips against his fingers eagerly.

"Mmh- yes, sir!"

"Good girl. Hold your legs spread for me."

Hooking your hands underneath your knees, you trembled as Aaron moved his right hand to pull your panties to the side, revealing your slick, puffy pussy to him. He hummed in approval, ghosting his fingers over your folds and gathering some of your juices on the tips.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me?" He asked softly. You wiggled your hips a little.

"Y-yeah, daddy~ only for you..."

Aaron groaned as he parted your folds to reveal your hooded clit and dripping entrance.

"Next time I want to eat you out, sweet girl. You're fucking divine looking." He rumbled, swiping his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked immediately, Aaron hummed. "Gonna fingerfuck you this time, that sound nice, huh?"

"Mmmh, yeah daddy, need it!" You whimpered, at this point just desperate for anything. Aaron kissed you roughly, the sounds of both yours and his lips moving against one another made you squirm. But you gasped out when he slipped his thick middle finger into your entrance, taking you by surprise. And with a smug grunt, Aaron slid his tongue against yours to deepen the messy kiss. One finger became two, sliding in and out of your sopping wet hole and stretching you around the two digits.

The edge of his palm massaged your throbbing, little clit as he curled the fingers upwards inside you, searching for the spot that would have your toes curling. A sudden burning pleasure spread through your lower abdomen and you moaned against Aaron's mouth. You felt his lips curl into a smile, smug as he began to thrust the two fingers up inside you in an unbreaking movement. You heard it then, the messy, gushing sound of your pussy squelching in time with the rapid thrusts and you bucked up into it, feeling the burning pleasure begin to build up. You couldn't kiss back anymore, mouth fallen open now with every whimper and cry as the thrusts increased in speed. Aaron bit down onto your lower lip, then pulled away with a wet kiss.

"You're fucking clenching around daddy's fingers so well, sweetheart. You close, huh? You gonna cum for me?" He coaxed you, the hand that had originally been holding your panties to the side now pressed down on your plush stomach, leveraging his other hand's movement. You sobbed and writhed, eyes fluttering as you struggled to keep them open.

"G-gonna cu-um! Wanna cum, daddy!"

With a grunt, Aaron's fingers moved blindingly fast, your pussy's squelches echoing in the kitchen along with your wails. He pressed his lips to your neck.

"Fucking cum for me, sweetheart. Come on, that's a good girl. Cum." He growled at you. And as your pussy began to flutter and clench around his fingers he ripped them from your hole and instead brushed them over your almost neglected clit. It was almost instantaneous then, the arch of your back, the roll of your eyes, moaning brokenly as you cummed hard.

And then you heard the keys jingling in the lock of the front door.

"Fuck-" Aaron hissed, pulling his hand away and quickly grabbing your shorts so you could pull them back on again. You were shaking, struggling to pull the garment of clothing back on so you could slip off the counter top. You heard running water, spying Aaron washing his hands and when you met his gaze the two of you giggled, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

"G-go up to the bathroom!" You whispered, gesturing to the prominent bulge in his crotch area. He huffed, but grinned and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

"We'll continue this another time, sweetheart." He whispered. He rushed off out of sight and, whilst on still shaky legs, you turned to wipe down the kitchen top just in time for your father to enter the room.

"Ah, you getting a head start with clearing up ready to eat?" Your dad greeted you and you bit your lip to hold back a giggle.

"Mhm, don't you know it."

Needless to say, Mr Hotchner ended up staying too late to drive home that night.

Not my best work I gotta say but 😔😔 hope yawl like it anyway SKSKSKSK

Gonna move the taglist to the comment section I think but yeah if you'd like to be tagged in future works lemme know!

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hello! I hope your day is going well.

I wanted to ask if you could do something with the 141 boys and könig with a fem reader who is an absolute cuddle bug when they're exhausted? Bonus points if you can make it plus size and short reader. Thank you so much ❤❤❤

Thanks for this request! Hope this is what you were looking for. I did some basic cuddling headcannons with this, too!!🙂

141 + König With Reader Who is a Major Cuddlebug

Warnings: fluff, minor swearing

Simon Ghost Riley-

You latch onto this man like no other when you're tired

It's like a full 30-minute process for him to actually get out of bed in the morning

Lowkey loves when you cuddle him, not that he'd ever admit that out loud

Man becomes PUTTY in your hands when you lay on his back, rubbing soft circles into his shoulder blades

Simon usually sleeps on his back, with you curled into his side, head laying on his chest

"No, don't get up. Tell them you're too busy to go in today." You groaned, throwing your head into your husbands shoulder.

"Can't love, you know that." Simon chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The two of you laid like that for a few more minutes, the only sounds that filled the room was your soft breathing. Simon lived for quiet moments like these. He loved nothing more than holding you in his arms, nothing else in the world mattering, just the two of you in that moment.

He started to slowly get up, causing you to huff loudly in frustration, throwing your leg around his midsection, effectively trapping him. "I won't let you go."

"That so?" Simon raised a brow but gave into your pleas, wrapping his arms around you, softly squeezing the flesh of your belly. "Needy little thing, aren't you."

You let out a whine, moving your face to his neck, pressing a soft kiss to the flesh there. "Don't hear you complaining."

"Never." He said, pulling you closer. Needless to say, he was late to work that day.

John Soap MacTavish-

You both are HUGE cuddle bugs

There's rarely a time when you aren't attached at the hip when you're home together

The two of you practically sleep on top of each other in bed

Always find excuses to touch each other. Whether it be on the couch, cooking dinner, driving or sleeping, you two always have some part of your bodies touching

Adores laying on top of you, loves the fact that his body literally dwarves yours

Literally will smother you with affection if you ask

"Sweets, I'm home." Johnny called out as he walked through the front door.

He peeked around the room, eyes landing on your sleeping frame on the couch. A small smile formed on his lips as he closed the door quietly.

He made his way over to you, peppering light kisses all over your face. "Hey, baby. I'm home."

You stirred, eyes blinking the sleep away as you turned to look at him. "Mmm, Johnny."

He chuckled at your state and allowed you to pull him on top of you. "Sleepy, bug?"

You nodded your head as Johnny relaxed his weight on you and sighed deeply at the feeling of him against you.

"Why don't we head on upstairs? I'll-." Johnny started, only to be cut off by a protesting whine from you, and your arms pulling him closer. "Ookay, here it is then."

He let out a soft laugh and nuzzled his face into your neck as he kicked his shoes off. He reached to the back of the couch and pulled out a blanket, laying it over the two of you as he flipped over to his side so you were flush against him, your face pressed firmly to his shoulder.

He pressed a loving kiss to your hair and wrapped himself tightly around you, and felt your arms do the same. The two of you fell asleep minutes later, not waking up until the next morning.

John Price-

100% touch starved, so loves when you want to cuddle

He loves it when you stroke his hair when his head rests against your chest

This man screams BIG SPOON. He loves holding you close and feeling you against him

Also, he's totally okay with you lying on top of him and eases any worries you may have about being too heavy

Loves to squeeze your love handles when cuddling. Drives him mad

"Yes. Yes, sir, that's what was in the report." Price spoke into his phone. He'd been on the phone for the better part of two hours, and you were growing rather tired, desperate for affection from your husband.

Price had stopped his pacing and sat down in his chair, giving you ample opportunity to run over and throw yourself in his lap.

He quickly muted the conference call and looked down at you with a smirk. "And just what do you think you're doing?"

"Getting much deserved affection?" You questioned, moving to nuzzle your face in his neck.

You exhaled deeply, breathing in his scent as your eyelids started to droop. You felt his arm wrap around your back to support you.

"Shouldn't be much longer, sweetheart, we'll go up to bed soon." He cooed, leaning his head against yours.

It wasn't long before you passed out in his arms, soft snores emitting from your lips. Price chuckled to himself before disconnecting the call and moving to stand with you in his arms.

He moved to the bedroom, setting you down gently when he felt your hands pulling him down with you. "Don't go."

"Just gotta get some sleepwear, babe." He said softly. You didn't relent, however, as your grip only tightened.

Price gave a defeated sigh, a smile making its way to his lips. He knew there was no use in fighting you and spent the night sleeping in his work clothes, with you safe in his arms.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

100% the type of boyfriend to have you wrapped in his arms while gaming/watching tv

Totally little spoon in bed

Your legs always curl around his midsection as you cuddle him from behind

Loves to cuddle you, but always blushes when you initiate it

Adores how small you are compared to him, loves to cocoon you when cuddling

You were watching your boyfriend game with his friends late one night on the couch, when you felt yourself dozing off slightly.

You looked over to see Kyle staring at the TV screen in concentration and slowly crawled over to him. He looked at you with a warm smile before opening his arms to you. You sat on his lap, crossing your legs around his midsection and resting your head on his shoulder.

"Tired love?" He asked.

You nodded wordlessly, and nuzzled your head against his neck.

He pressed a kiss to your brow before returning to the game, his arms wrapping around your torso to grab his controller once more. Kyle would occasionally rub soothing circles in your back when he'd die in his game or would take a small break. The two of you stayed like that for nearly 40 minutes before he felt the deep rise and fall of your chest, telling him you'd fallen asleep.

As he didn't want to accidentally wake you up, he turned off the TV, setting his controller aside. He moved up as gently as he could and carried your sleeping form to the bedroom.

Laying you in bed, he was quick to strip his hoodie and pants and join you. He pulled you into him and sighed deeply. It wasn't long before he himself fell asleep, listening to the sounds of your breathing.

König-

You love (and so does he) the fact that you can climb this man like a koala bear

You love clinging to any part of his body that you can, arms, torso, legs, you name it.

König has a size kink, so he loves it when his body dwarves over your tiny one, makes him feel like he's protecting you (also gets him mildly horny)

Loves to grab at your flesh, especially if you have a little extra (insists there's just more to love)

He gets nervous to fall asleep while cuddling you. He's scared he'll roll over and crush you in his sleep because you're so small. So he often puts some space in between you, but one of his limbs is always touching you.

So incredibly gentle when touching you in any way, his touches were always feather like

"Have I ever told you how handsome you are?" You asked, watching as your boyfriend König dried himself off from the shower.

He walked into the bedroom with a small smile, red littering his cheeks. "Thank you, Maus."

"Mmhmm. Very handsome." You repeated, your sleepiness starting to overtake your voice.

König came to press a kiss to your forehead before moving back to put on his sweatpants.

"C'mere." You stretched your hands out in a childlike motion, making grabbing hands at your lover.

König chuckled at your antics, and threw the towel on the ground before making his way to you.

"Lay on top of me." You demanded, as a sleepy smile made its way to your lips.

"M..maus, I'll crush you." König stuttered out, his eyes widening at your request.

"No, you won't. 'S okay." You gave him a reassuring nod.

He hesitated a moment before giving into your wishes. He gently laid himself on top of your tiny frame, a small giggle bubbling from him as he heard you sigh deeply in content.

"So big Kö, it's nice." You mumbled into his chest. König felt his cheeks burn at your words once more. He rolled over in one fluid motion so that now you were lying on top of him.

"I love you, Maus." He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. You gave a soft whine as sleep overtook you, and buried your head into his chest.

König smiled down at you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. He was exhausted himself but wanted to stay awake just a bit longer, to relish in this moment.

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A/N: Thanks, as always, for reading!❤️❤️❤️ (also don't know why gaz is always gaming in my blurbs😅😭)