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avis-writeshq · 5 months

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05 — enchanted

summary: “please don’t be in love with someone else”/“please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn, no use of (Y/N) warnings: alcohol (reader gets drunk lmfao), jealousy, slight miscommunication, austin (aka: bartender girl from s4), special mention to special people wc: 4.9k a/n: everyone say thank you @astrophileous for beta-reading MWAH ilyvm zara <33 SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Although you haven’t been a part of the BAU for more than one year, it didn’t stop you from maintaining the connections that you had in all your years of working there. Sure, the scheduling times could be better, but that didn’t stop the team from spending their rare day off to spend time with you. After all, the adjustment of seeing you every day to once in a blue moon was a difficult one to make.

O’Keefe’s has been the main victim of the team’s shenanigans, its doors open for the seven members of law enforcement, all eager to get their hands on some well earned rest and relaxation. Drinks are passed around the booth and you can’t help but laugh as you watch Derek get his ‘groove thang on’ with a few girls in the bar. Today is one of the rare occasions when the team didn’t have a case, an even rarer day when the team didn’t have to take on any new or incoming cases.

“How’s life treating you?” Emily asks cheerfully, sipping at her strawberry daiquiri. You gather that tonight is one of those nights.

You smile, sipping at your own beverage of choice. “Good! Way less stressful than working at the BAU, that’s for sure. And the hours are good, too.”

JJ snorts from beside you. “Yeah, well, can’t say I’m not jealous. How’re the kids?”

“I can’t say much because of confidentiality and all that, but they’re doing well. A lot better, thank goodness but it just goes to show the aftermath of the things that you guys deal with. I mean, I still think about all the victims we’ve helped and it sucks that we can’t do anything to help them further.” You finish your tangent with a long sip of your drink before leaning back against the booth. “Anyway, how are you guys?”

Penelope comes shuffling past carrying a series of cocktails, her absolutely monstrous platform heels not aiding her in her slightly tipsy task. “Do not even get me started on work. No work! None! We’re having a fun day. Ergo, no work talk.”

You laugh in response, moving to the side to allow her room to sit in the booth. “No, Penny, you’re right. No work talk.”

The drinks are dispersed and your gaze shifts to where Spencer is standing, laughing awkwardly as he tries to follow along to Derek’s dancing and socialising. He looks incredibly out of place in his brown argyle sweater vest, navy tie and freshly pressed slacks, and he pulls at the collar of his shirt.

“Nah, Spencer could definitely be a ladies’ man if he plays his cards right. And I mean that literally,” Emily says, bringing you out of your daydream.

Your head snaps in her direction, trying to calm your facial features and microexpressions. Regardless of your attempts, after a year of not practising, you don’t do as well as you hope. “What?”

JJ grins at you, her eyes lighting up knowingly. “We’re just talking about who’s the biggest hotshot in the BAU.”

“Wouldn’t that be David?” You ask meekly, your finger swirling along the edge of your glass. You had met David Rossi on occasion, once by accident when you were having a night out with the girls and the other during a proper introduction two weeks later. “Didn’t he have, like, five wives?”

“I had three thank you very much,” Rossi intervenes swiftly, holding his glass of whisky on ice.

“Sorry, my bad,” you respond jokingly, snickering as he shakes his head and stalks over to where Hotch is sitting and drinking his rum.

Penelope lets out a loud laugh. “I think we’re forgetting the obvious: our very own Chocolate Thunder.”

“Well, fine,” Emily drawls, waving a hand dismissively, “but Spencer has that innocent vibe to him, y’know? The kind of guy women go crazy over.”

JJ clicks her fingers in remembrance. “Didn’t a bunch of prostitutes try to pick him up in that one case?”

“What?” You ask again, albeit a little shrilly as you try to dismiss the surprise in your tone.

“He didn’t take them,” Emily says quickly in an attempt to ease your discomfort. “But he did pick up a girl a few months ago. Austin?”

Penelope nods at that, putting down her cup. “Oooh, yes! I remember her. He showed me a picture. She’s pretty.”

“I mean, he did pick up Lila too.” JJ reminds the team, shooting you a sly smile. “You remember her, don’t you?”

You force out a laugh and bite the inside of your cheek in the process. “Yeah. Who’s Austin?”

“I think I still have a picture!” Penelope says, brandishing her phone from her coat pocket. She types something in before sliding it in your direction. “Pretty, right?”

Austin is certainly pretty, even in the uncoordinated selfie Penelope shows you of her and Spencer. He’s slightly out of frame, his lips set into a sweet smile while Austin practically glows. Her brilliant green eyes flash in the camera and her dark hair frames her face perfectly. She and Spencer are close in the photo, with him holding the phone clumsily and she has a hand on his arm.

“Uh huh,” you murmur distractedly, averting your gaze from the photo as an ugly feeling creeps into your chest. “Really pretty.”

Emily looks at you curiously. “You didn’t know about her?”

You shrug in response, the smile on your face insincere. “There are a lot of things I don’t know about Spencer.”

The group exchange a couple glances at your tell-tale body language, watching as you scoot past Penelope and out of the booth, making your way to the bar. You’re all too grateful for a reprieve from the teasing as you order another drink and take a seat, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Your mind goes through all the interactions you’ve had with Spencer over the years. Were you really that foolish to think that he would feel that way for you? Maybe you were reading too much into it, you try to reason, running your fingers through your once styled hair. Maybe, in some stupid and twisted way, all of Spencer’s interactions were platonic.

You scoff inwardly to yourself. Right. Because picking someone up at two o’clock in the morning is entirely platonic. Sleeping in the same bed as someone because of nightmares is totally normal between friends. In any case, you could have sworn that he–

“Trouble in paradise?”

An unfamiliar voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin, and you turn to the man who takes a seat beside you. “Uh… something like that.”

The man hums, a smile on his handsome features. His dark brown hair is fluffy and, in its own charming little way, suits him. He reminds you a lot of Spencer, with the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles along with the timbre of his voice. He’s also very different to Spencer, especially with his sweater that has a bright orange pumpkin on it, paired with a matching orange scarf. A pair of red tinted sunglasses hang on the neckline of his sweater, and you doubt that it would do much good to block the sun.

“I’m Matthias,” he says good naturedly, beaming. “I’m with my sister, Laura,” he explains, gesturing to a lady sporting dyed auburn coloured hair, and she waves with a matching smile.

You introduce yourself, pointing to the booth. “My friends are over there.”

Matthias nods, undeterred by your company on the other side of the bar. “Let me buy you a drink.”

***

After what felt like hours of dancing (it was really only fifteen minutes), Spencer and Derek make their way to rejoin the group. The feeling of sweat matting his skin is one of many reasons as to why Spencer hates dancing. That, and the fact that there were far too many people on the dancefloor. What’s worse is the fact that he’s sure that none of them have ever heard of the word ‘deodorant’. He cringes at the thought of all the germs that could be festering on his skin as he sits at the booth, his eyes shifting to wear your bag lays haphazardly on the red cushions.

“Where is she?” He asks instantly, turning to Emily and placing your bag so that it’s in a safer and less hazardous position.

She hums, pointing in the bar’s direction. “Getting a drink. She’s just cooling off.”

“Cooling off?” Spencer echoes, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean she’s ‘cooling off’?”

Penelope offers an apologetic smile, fiddling with the buttons on her coat. “We… might have told her about Austin?”

“You what?” Spencer can barely believe his ears as he looks at the group incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

“We didn’t mean anything bad by it,” JJ says hastily. “We didn’t think she’d react like that.”

“React like what?” Spencer’s voice is strangely stern, his eyes narrowing as he turns to the rest of the team. “I don’t like Austin. She’s nice but I don’t like her.”

Derek’s brows lift in surprise and confusion. “Did you go out with her after the case?”

Spencer’s ears burn in embarrassment and he turns to his friend in offence. “I asked her for help. I don’t like Austin like that. I needed advice.”

“Advice,” Emily repeats, turning in the direction of the bar. “You mean about…?”

Spencer doesn’t stay long enough to head the rest of Emily’s sentence or to answer it, making his way over to you are. Part of him wishes that he stayed put, especially when he sees what you’re doing. In an instant, his nose is scrunched up in distaste as he spies the random stranger chatting you up. His eyes lock with yours and he relishes in the way they light up as you wave him over.

“Hi,” he breathes, standing beside you.

“Hi!” You gush, beaming at him. “Saw you on the dancefloor.”

“You’ll never see it again,” he says honestly, stealing a sip of your drink. It tastes like vodka and the strawberry lipgloss you use (he only know what it tastes like because of its very on the nose packaging: a giant strawberry. He wishes he knew for other reasons).

You laugh, bright and loud, before you gasp excitedly. “Oh, Spencer, this is Matthias! He’s been keeping me company.” Then, you lean closer to him, your voice a very exaggerated whisper as if the person you’re talking about isn’t in the seat next to you as you tell Spencer, “he’s a director.”

Matthias waves off the statement, chuckling along. “Nothing famous though.”

“He’s a liar,” you tell Spencer enthusiastically. “Did you know he went to New York University? Crazy, right? Like, the school of arts or something. Oh! And he’s also from Vegas! You two are so alike.”

Spencer nods half-heartedly as he tells you, “you know, I went to MIT and CalTech.”

“Well I know that, silly!” You say with a drunken laugh, poking at his cheek. You turn to Matthias with a proud grin before reaching for a shot. “Spencer’s a genius. He’s a super smart genius.”

“That’s what ‘genius’ means, angel,” Spencer reminds gently, prying the little cup away from you. “No more. You’re drunk and we don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Your face falls and your lips curl into a frown. “But Spencer I’m thirsty!”

“You have water in your bag,” he prompts, squeezing your shoulder and helping you off the barstool, not paying this Matthias person any mind. “Okay? Let’s go back to the others.”

You nod eagerly, stumbling a little as you wave goodbye. “Bye, Matthias!”

“Uh huh,” Spencer dismisses, leading you back to the table by the small of your back. He leans a little closer to murmur in your ear, “why did you leave the others?”

You shrug dismissively, leaning into his side. “Doesn’t matter.”

“No, angel, it does,” he says carefully, “tell me?”

You huff in your own clumsy drunken way. “You should ask Austin. Or go pick someone else up. Emily says you’re turning into a ‘ladies’ man’.”

Spencer resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course. “I don’t like Austin,” he tells you in earnest, holding you close to his side as you stumble back to the booth. “I mean it, angel.”

“Bet you call everyone angel,” you grumble under your breath. “Bet you let everyone call you ‘Walter’ too.”

“No,” Spencer says immediately, a hand on your waist. “I only call you that. Besides, why would I let someone call me by my middle name if it isn’t you?”

You huff again, slumping in the booth as Penelope shuffles inward to give you more room. Your arms cross over your chest in annoyance and frustration and you turn away from Spencer’s direction. He doesn’t need to be a profiler to know that you’re pissed off at him. Somewhere in your hazy drunk mind, you’ve made it out as him being the bad guy.

Spencer shoots the other girls a pointed glare, gesturing at you as if to say ‘This is your fault’ because, in reality, it is. If they didn’t mention Austin, you wouldn’t be mad at him. If they didn’t mention Austin, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself drunk with some random guy who went to New York University. Spencer mocks Matthias in his head. Stupid Matthias and his stupidly good hair. Spencer runs a hand through his own growing locks, grimacing when he realises that it reaches his shoulders now. Maybe he should get a haircut later.

“Angel,” Spencer tries again, kneeling down next to your chair. “Let’s get you home, alright? Please don’t be mad at me?”

You mutter something incoherent, not bothering to look in his direction.

“I’m not in love with Austin,” he tells you, his tone a mix of firmness and gentleness. “Really, I’m not. We’re just friends, angel, I promise.”

“Liar,” you mutter under your breath as you get out of the booth. JJ guiltily passes you your bag and you take it out of her hands as Spencer grips your arm with one hand, the other on the small of your back.

“Not a lie,” Spencer says, walking you to his car. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. Not after Lila.”

“Lie-la,” you say bitterly as you get into the passenger seat. “Stupid actress.”

He laughs at that, getting behind the wheel. “Yeah, angel. Stupid actress.”

“You kissed her in a pool,” you continue as you fumble drunkenly with the buckle of the seatbelt. “You don’t kiss me in the pool.”

Spencer’s cheeks burn at your words as he puts your seatbelt on, his fingers grazing yours. “It never came up. Besides, I hate pools, you know that.”

“Germ-y,” you respond knowingly, a silly giddy smile on your face. “I know you the best.”

“Exactly,” he hums as starts the car, his words flowing smoothly as he considers how drunk you are. There’s no way you’d remember this, right? “Why would I find another girl when I have you who knows me best?”

Your cheeks glow with pride at his words and you laugh. “Exactly.”

***

It’s late. Far too late and you toss and turn in bed. Your eyes are heavy but your brain won’t shut up, swirling with the memories of the previous night. You’re not really sure what happened after you got to the bar, only remembering snippets of the night. The entire time was a blur: you remember getting upset at the girls (or rather, at the information they were feeding you), meeting someone– Mason? Matthew? You can’t even remember– and then downing three shots. It’s awfully stupid of you, yes but then somehow you got home safe and sound with a note on your kitchen counter from Spencer.

You felt a little silly upon the finding of the note. Of course Spencer would take you home; it’s not like the girls were particularly sober by the time you wanted to leave. Regardless, reading the note made you feel incredibly stupid, more stupid than usual, and you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself six feet underground.

‘Hi angel,’ it read in Spencer’s messy scrawl with chaotic lettering and swirly g’s. ‘You’re probably really hungover right now so there’s a Tylenol on the counter and a sandwich in the fridge. Please drink water; I’m sure you’re also severely dehydrated from the alcohol. I know you’re upset at me but please just forget about what the others said about Austin. I don’t like her like that. Be safe and call me when you wake up.’

The note was fine, nothing out of the ordinary, just Spencer being his usual ridiculously lovely self. You didn’t mind that he took care of you, either. It’s more-so the fact that you genuinely could barely remember what you said that him. You’re betting on it being something exceedingly dumb (you’re making a habit of it, much to your own chagrin), especially considering how much you had to drink that night. Maybe you should start abstaining from drinking from now on, especially if Spencer was in the vicinity.

The note is now pinned securely to your cork board, a pretty lavender thumb tack holding it in place. Your gaze drifts to it for a moment then to your clock and you groan into your pillow. This is dumb. Sleep is dumb. Your clock blinks with the numbers ‘02:01’ in red mocking letters and you resist the urge to scream. After blindly searching for your phone, you step out of bed while rubbing your eyes.

The lingering question keeps you up as you pace back and forth beside you bed. If Spencer doesn’t like Austin, who does he like? It can’t be Lila. You would have known if they kept in contact. Then again, you had no idea who Austin was so who knows what secrets Spencer is keeping? What if there was another girl? What if your entire friendship with Spencer was exactly that– friendship. You slap the palm of your hand to your forehead. Were you really that stupid?

It’s in that moment when your phone begins to ring. The tune plays through the room and you know it all too well; the Doctor Who theme song that you spent a whopping two dollars and thirty-seven cents on to add it as the custom ringtone for Spencer.

“Hello…?” You answer quietly, your voice choking. “Walter?”

“Angel,” he murmurs, and you can hear shuffling in the background. “Why are you still awake?”

You hum, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I could ask you the same question.”

He laughs quietly on the other side of the line, scratchy from the lack of sleep. “Can I come over?”

“Always.”

He hangs up after that and you press the pads of your fingers into the corners of your eyes again. You’re exhausted, far too exhausted to be hosting guests, but this is Spencer. How can you ever say no to him? So, instead of sulking around and spending far too long doing nothing, you fashion yourself a cup of tea and flick the lights on. The book you were reading is thrown haphazardly onto the cushions of your couch but you can’t bring yourself to pick it up.

The jiggling of the door handle brings you out of your little mood, and Spencer lets himself in with the key you gave him, locking it securely and taking his shoes off to reveal his sock choice of the day: one bright green and the other in fuchsia with buttercup yellow spots. He’s wearing a crinkly white t-shirt that hangs over his gangly frame and grey sweatpants. For something so basic, he looks absolutely criminal in it. You pinch yourself as punishment for thinking such a thing.

“Hey,” he breathes, sitting next to you. He runs his fingers through his hair, frowning a little. “Do you think I should get it cut?”

You laugh, almost spilling your tea. “You came to my apartment at two in the morning to ask what I think about your hair?”

“Yes,” he agrees before laughing, “no! Of course not. I just thought of it.”

A hum leaves your lips as you curl a strand of his hair around your finger. “I like long hair on you. Besides, you’d look good in any hair cut.”

Spencer preens at your words, enjoying the feel of your touch in his hair. “You’re a liar. I know what I looked like four years ago. Don’t lie.”

“I’m not!” You insist, beaming at him as you poke his cheek. “You were really cute back then. Like a baby.”

He flushes again at both the compliment and the contact, his mind committing the way you say ‘baby’ to memory. He thinks it again and again; baby, baby, baby.

“I was not a baby,” He tells you, half in jest. “I’m older than you!”

“By a year,” you quip, the sleep deprivation making your head go loopy. “Barely. Doesn’t matter, you’re still baby.”

Spencer scoffs lightly, poking your side. “If I’m a baby, what does that make you? A foetus? A zygote?”

You let out a quiet scream in protest, whacking him over the head with a throw pillow. “Ew, Spencer what the hell?”

He snickers in response, shielding his face with his forearm. “If I’m a baby and you’re younger than me, you must be at an earlier stage of development. So? Which is it, are you a foetus or a zygote? C’mon, angel, you passed eighth grade biology.”

“You’re an ass,” you chastise jokingly, rolling your eyes as you look up at him. Sometime amidst the commotion he must have gotten closer to you. Your noses are almost touching and your breath hitches in your throat.

He smiles sweetly, his own cheeks warm and flushed with embarrassment as he maintains eye contact. “I thought I was ‘baby’.”

What the hell? Is this really Spencer Reid? Silly, awkward, nerdy little Spencer Reid? This must be a very convincing body suit and an even more convincing voice altering machine because this is not Spencer Reid. You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks and ears so quickly that it’s enough to make you go dizzy. Maybe you’re a lot more sleep deprived than you thought.

“Are you drunk?” You croak out meekly as he cages you in, his forearms on either side of your head as he leans you against the couch.

He laughs– he has the actual audacity to laugh– and he shakes his head. “No, angel, I’m not drunk. You know I don’t drink enough to actually get drunk. Besides, I drove here.”

“You drove here,” you repeat, a little dazed from how close he is. “It’s two in the morning.”

“Almost three now but yes,” Spencer agrees, smiling.

“You hate driving,” you remind him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Especially at night.”

He hums in agreement. “I do. But I wanted to see you.”

“Oh.”

You kick yourself internally. ‘Oh’? Who the hell says ‘Oh’? This is it. Your life is over. Maybe you should move to another state. Change your name, shave your head, and get a different degree because you’re almost certain that it’s the end of the line for you.

Spencer lets out a soft chuckle. “I missed you.”

“You saw me two days ago?” You say it like a question and you suddenly feel yourself sweating. It definitely got hotter in here.

He murmurs your name, his fingers grazing the skin of your jaw gently. “I’m so glad I met you.”

“I ran into you four years ago and almost gave myself a concussion,” you say, averting your gaze as you tried to calm yourself down.

“I’m so glad I met you,” he repeats softly, his nose brushing against your cheek. “Look at me, angel.”

You wet your bottom lip nervously as you look at him, his hazel eyes a little greener in the low light of your apartment. His legs are on either side of your hips and he brushes his thumb against your chin.

“I want to kiss you,” Spencer says lowly, albeit a little breathlessly, and you can hear hoarseness in his words. “Can I?”

You’re dead. You’re either dead or asleep, that is the only explanation you have for this entire situation. You’re either dead and in heaven or asleep and dreaming. It is that plain and simple.

“What?” You croak out, your nails digging into the skin of your thighs.

“I know you wanted to do it in a pool but I’m pretty sure your apartment gym is closed now, angel,” Spencer says, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “Can I kiss you?”

The only thing you can manage to do is nod, your eyes flickering to his lips for a split second, watching as the corners of his mouth tug upwards. Your brain barely has any time to comprehend the words he said (since when did you say that you wanted to kiss him in the pool?) because in a rush of confidence, Spencer cups your face and presses his lips to yours in a tantalisingly slow kiss. His eyes are closed and his hands are eerily soft, the gentleness in which he holds you reminiscent of one holding porcelain.

He pulls away after a moment, his cheeks burning and a smile on his face. You can’t even breathe as you just stare at him, lips parted in surprise. What do you even say to that?

“Thank you?” You manage to stutter out, heat creeping up your neck.

He laughs again, breathless and beautiful, as he kisses the side of your face. “You’re welcome.”

Spencer brushes an eyelash from your cheek, beaming at you as he does. “It’s late,” he tells you, getting up from the couch and freeing your limbs. “You should get some rest.”

“Uh huh,” you respond, your head spinning. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he says back, trying to hold in a laugh. “I’m free next Friday. Do you want to go out?”

“Go out?” You echo, “we always go out.”

“I know.” He smiles at you again as he makes his way to the door. “I meant– you know. We can go out.”

A beat passes and your head is awfully slow, whether from the kiss or from the sleep deprivation, you’re not entirely sure. “We can go out.”

“Great.” He pauses, taking a step towards you before kissing your cheek. “I’ll text you.”

“You’ll–” you gape at him again as he opens your door to leave. “You hate texting.”

He nods, slipping on his shoes. “I also hate driving at night. Your point?”

“Right,” you murmur, more to yourself than anything. “Text me when you get home?”

“Of course I will, angel,” he promises, “get some rest.”

Get some rest? How the hell are you supposed to get some rest after all that? With one last wave, Spencer leaves your apartment, leaving you hoping that this wasn’t just some thing. Maybe this was the very first page of your story– a very embarrassing start to your story. There is one thing for certain though: Spencer is not in love with someone else.

***

It’s a Tuesday when Penelope calls you. You had just finished up with a client when your phone begins to ring.

“Penny!” You gush, unable to stop the smile from stretching onto your face. “I am stupid, I said ‘thank you’? Who the hell says thank you after someone kisses you?”

“Who kissed you?” Penelope asks, and if you weren’t so caught up in your own tangent you would have noticed that she sounded tearful.

“Spencer did!” You exclaim, slapping a hand to your forehead. “He’s sitting there and he looks amazing and he smells really good and I am stupid.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Penelope says quickly, and you can imagine her waving her fluffy pen around. “He kissed you and you said thank you?”

“Yes.”

“Well that was very polite of you,” she says, trying to sound happy before her voice cracks.

You frown immediately, taking a seat in the wheelie chair in your office. “Penny? Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“It’s about Spencer,” she says woefully, sniffling. “He wanted me to tell you something. It’s not looking good, honey, but– but he wanted me to give you a message.”

“Penny–” You stop short when you hear Spencer’s voice. It’s a recording from his phone, and you can only really tell because of the crackling audio on the other side of the line.

“Is it on?” Spencer asks before clearing his throat. He sounds breathless, his words breaking off at some parts and you know that it’s not from the bad audio quality. “Hey, angel, it’s me, Spenc– Walter. It’s your Walter. If you’re getting this then something happened and I just wanted you to know that– that I love you. I didn’t get the chance to tell you that before but I do. I love you and I wish it didn’t turn out like this but I am– I am so glad that we had that moment.”

Through the recording you can hear a shuffle, like the sound of a sliding door being opened, along with a quiet, “Prep the victim for transfer,” before the recording cuts out, leaving you with Penelope on the line.

She calls your name quietly, choking on her words. “Are you okay?”

You hang up.

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lqfiles · 12 days

Text

✰ dating lee mark.

a companion for life.

dating mark comes with an unspoken loyalty towards you. mark would root for you no matter, even if you aren’t aware that he is. he’d do everything in his capacity to make sure that life goes your way, because mark wants to see you thrive and be happy. whether it be opportunities or any other events in your life, mark would attempt to help you out in whatever way he can. doing research on work fields that you’re interested in during his free time and coincidentally bringing up how there is a job near your place that you could apply for. or, you could complain to mark on the phone how it had started being burdensome to get up in the mornings and prepare your stuff, and wake up the next day to a small note and a lunch box on your kitchen counter that mark had placed there for you, encouraging words written on them. if no one is on your side, you know that at least mark is.

attempting a new lifestyle (just for you).

mark is someone who has a set routine in life, a schedule that he follows daily. he’s a person who knows what he does and doesn’t like, but with you, he doesn’t think a little change can hurt. mark would rarely have the time to go out and enjoy the outside world. you on the other hand, love to explore, which is how mark finds himself getting dragged by the hand as you show him your favourite places. mark, who is scared of heights, but would let you lead him to the top of a building because you like the view up there. he knows he doesn’t enjoy the taste of ketchup, yet he’d keep quiet and let you feed him the french fries drizzled in it. mark who’s world revolves around his work and work ethic doesn’t think he’d mind making space for your world in his own.

nonchalant jealousy.

anyone can point out when mark is jealous. it would start with prolonged stares towards you, a hidden confusion in his eyes as he flashes you a small smile from across the room. walking over towards you before interrupting whatever conversation you were having with the person across you. inching closely towards you, before draping an arm around you shoulder, introducing himself towards the stranger. tugging you away with an excuse along the words of ‘having to show you something’. a nervous laughter as he’d ask you “is that your friend? i’ve never seen him.” by now it’s hard for you to hold back your laughter and you’d have to assure mark that nothing was going on. you can hear the sigh of relief under his breath before another more playful chuckle leaves him. yes, mark was jealous, he’d never admit it though.

how he asked you out.

mark most likely wouldn’t even realise at first that he is crushing on you, only when one of his friends points out how he is not-so-subtly glancing at you every minute with the suggestion that perhaps he might have a thing for you, would it click in his head that “damn, i do have a crush on you”. mark would try to impress you a lot and flatter you without directly telling you that he likes you. by doing so, he’d observe your reactions and slowly build up the courage to ask you out on a date. he’d take you out to the fanciest restaurant he could find and treat you with more gifts afterwards, whatever your eyes land on, he’d immediately ask if you wanted it. the date would end with him driving you back home, asking you if you enjoyed the date. he’d confess right then and there that he’d love to go on a second date if you’d like it too. fortunately for him, you’re crushing on him just as much as he is on you!

kisses.

kissing mark feels like having your breath taken away from you as his kisses always have an underlying passion to it. he’d cave in softly at first, testing the waters and getting the both of you comfortable. his hand would rest under your chin as he’d tug you to himself. the kiss grows more passionate after a while, proximity closing between you two. you’d think the room was burning with the warmth that travels through your body as mark deepens the kiss, his arms around your body by now pressing you against him. his kisses taste like sweet love and desperate lust. you’d think its because mark hasn’t seen you for a while, but instead its because he just can’t help himself when it comes to you. mark’s love for you shows through the heated kiss shared between you two that feels like it lasts the whole night, and quite frankly, neither of would want the intimate moment to end anytime soon.

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injuries-in-dust · 1 year

Text

An important checklist for your safety.

Can you see the human?

YES: All is well. A human will not usually be doing anything dangerous to other species when they are able to be clearly observed.

NO: Go to the next quesiton.

Can you hear the human?

YES: All is well. A human knowingly doing something they aren't supposed to do will rarely be done in a manner that will attract unwanted attention.

No: Go to the next question.

Is this the human's designated rest period?

YES: All is well. The human is, most likely, asleep.

NO: Go to the next question.

Is there supposed to be a human at your location at this time?

YES: Follow procedure #3.

NO: All is (probably) well. You are in a location where a human is not supposed to be and you can not see or hear a human. It is usually safe to assume that a human is not present.

Procedure #3: Missing Human.

Begin by loudly ordering that any humans present must make their locations known. Humans have a natural knack for stealth and have been known to climb into unlikely places for various reasons which include, but are not limited to, "fun," "to be alone," "to see what was in there," and the well known, "Hold my beverage." Occasionally, you may increase the likelihood of a human response by loudly shouting the human name, "Marco."

If the human has not made themselves known at this time immediately make an announcement using your ship intercom and order the human to contact you with their location. Remain calm, this does not necessarily mean your human is doing anything dangerous. Perhaps your human is refreshing themselves. See procedure #19: Coffee Break. Perhaps they did not come out of their rest period at the regularly scheduled time and may still be sleeping, or they are still on route to your location

If the human has not made contact at this time immediately make a ship-wide announcement ordering that any crew member knowing the location of the human in question must contact you with this information.

If the human's location is still unknown to you at this time call a general alert and have your crew begin search procedures. It is likely that the human is doing something they are not supposed to be doing, most likely as a form of entertainment.

#humans are strange #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #short prose #short story

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slvttyplum · 6 months

Text

im having suguru brain rot

didn’t edit this so idk.

suguru walks in the kitchen where you’re popping grapes in your mouth scrolling on your phone.

“yo.” he says as he slides in front of you opening the fridge.

his hair is all messy and his wife beater was cropped showing his v-line and happy trail, your eyes subconsciously sliding all around his body.

the slam of the fridge startling you, you snap out of it.

“suguru whats your major again?” you blurt out. the truth was, you needed him. you didn’t care what conversation was needed you just wanted to hear that—

“psychology.” he deadpans, sliding past you again walking towards the pantry. your eyes follow his tall figure, his back muscles pushing out the shirt, and the wall those black sweats fit around his small waist.

sexy voice. sexy mind. sexy body. sexy major.

you could never really catch a glimpse of his face since both of you have two different schedules, when both of you were home he would stay cooped up in his room.

that didn’t bother you much since it did make you a little uneasy to have a male roommate in the first place, you hated to admit it but you were shallow, that man was fine.

so him being a guy living with you wasn’t a bother.

you slipped another grape into your mouth thinking to yourself, what’s something else you could ask him or talk about, this was your only chance, he rarely spoke to you.

“breaks coming up, are you going back home?” you ask, your voice cracking.

you mentally curse yourself, that wasn’t a good one but you gotta do what you gotta do.

he turns his head looking at you, his dark eyes looking you straight in the eye and his eyebrow and lip piercing shining from the light.

damn he’s fine.

he turns his head back to the pantry then closes it, he wasn’t feeling any of the good options today, maybe he could…

he folds his arms against himself leaning his butt against the counter near the pantry.

“unfortunately no, i have way too much to do here and i don’t live close so.” he says, playing with the piercing on his lip.

your eyes light up, this was fate, it had to be. you would make it your life goal to make sure you guys talk everyday.

“awe bummer, i’m not going home either, i don’t feel like flying.” you say tucking your hand in the waistband of your pants trying to warm it up.

suguru scans your figure and looks back at your face, his dick jumping.

“maybe we could hang out.” he says leaning off the counter.

your eyes almost fall off hearing this, this was all working in YOUR favor. oh universe what did i do to deserve such kindness you think to yourself.

a grin forming on your lips but you quickly wipe it off, “yeah i would love that.”

he smiles, his smiley piercing shining. god please.

“good, i’m a little hungry can you do something for me?” he asks leaning on his side only a few inches away from you.

your ears start ringing with anticipation, were you a genius or were you a genius. he’s going to ask you on a date, this was your time.

“can you lay across that table, i want to eat.” your jaw drops and the grape that was in the hand drops.

what?

“sorry, huh?”

he’s smirking and his hands drop down walking towards you, almost nothing helping the distance.

“sorry if that came off too blunt, it’s just… you look good and im starving here.”

your throat is closing by the second, your pupils forming in the shape of a heart, if he was saying what you thought he was then…

“fuck!!” you yelp out. suguru grabs your hand placing it on top of his head, telling you to grab.

he tongue swirling all around you, spit mixed with your liquids dripping off his chin.

his eyes glued to your pussy, his hands gripped around you.

his tongue piercing gliding over your clit every second, your body shivers from the cold touch every-time.

your hands sliding and grabbing his hair, where did he learn this oh my—

“god! right there!”

his eyes are rolling as his hands grip your thighs with force, his nails digging into you.

saliva was foaming inside your mouth, dripping off the side. the knot deep inside your stomach was tightening, and you felt like you were dying.

his tongue sliding from deep inside you to sucking your clit, the pattern and rhythm stopping your climax.

you tug on his hair, “keep sucking.” his eyes shoot up to you, smirking. he takes one of his hands off your thigh, sliding it under him and right into your pussy.

your breath hitches and a sharp feeling explodes in your stomach, back arching, your liquids leaking.

you flop back on the table, your head spinning.

suguru gets up licking his lips. “i’ll be back tonight, maybe we can do this again.”

your head shoots up and the heart shapes still in your eyes and the ringing in your ear was still there.

“yeah yeah for sure.” you say wiping off the drool.

he smiles at you and walks back to his room, you slide off the table clearing your throat.

for sure…

#college au #jjk x reader #getou suguru x y/n #geto x y/n #jujutsu geto #suguru geto smut #geto smut #geto x you #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚plumdrabble

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hxyleswritesthings · 1 year

Text

Poly!KiriBaku Headcanons

Author's note: Just some little things on what domestic life is like with these two beefcakes. Enjoy!

- Bakugou and Kirishima are the exact opposite in the morning. More often than not, Kiri sleeps in as late as possible, but he wakes up cheery. Bakugou, on the other hand, is usually the first one up every single morning but he's liability to be around for at least the first hour he's awake.

- You are the classic grumpy morning person. As long as the guys are home, they're usually the ones to wake you up in the morning, and they both know to give you space until you've finished your first cup of coffee.

- As the first one up, Bakugou likes to shower first and make coffee for the three of you before you part ways. If he has the time, he likes to go on a quick morning run/walk and grab pastries from the bakery around the corner.

- On the rare occasion that you do wake up on time, you like to make a quick breakfast for the three of you to eat, packing them both bentos for lunch as well.

- There was one time Kiri walked in to the kitchen, following the smell of breakfast and coffee, only to find you bent over the kitchen counter, practically drooling as Bakugou relentlessly pounds into you, taking out his bad mood. Bakugou just grins at the redhead when he looks up to find him staring, not missing a beat as he reaches around to thumb at your clit until you're begging for release, thighs shaking as you gush on his cock. Bakugou's not far behind, grunting as he pulls your hips back against him to fill you up, grip hard enough to leave bruises. Kirishima just watches the whole thing over his coffee cup, pants feeling tight from where he sits at the dining table.

- You're weak now, Bakugou's arm the only thing keeping you up as he gives you both a moment to breath before he's slipping out of you and pulling his pants back up. head leaning on the table as bakugou keeps you standing, giving you a moment to catch your breath before he's slipping out of you and pulling his pants of his hero suit back up and tucking himself away. He leans down to pull your leggings up as well, silent as he scoops you up and dumps you in a chair next to Kirishima, serving you both a heaping plate of eggs.

- You're a little dazed from the events of the morning, whining as you get placed down before crawling into Kirishima's lap in need of affection.

- The three of you rarely have any serious fights, but due to his temper and your stubbornness it's not unusual for you and Bakugou to bicker. You love each other dearly, but you've been known to butt heads over the smallest things. It rarely ever gets out of hand. Most of the time one of you breaks pretty quickly and you both laugh it off and move on.

- This courtesy does not extend to game night. You and Katsuki are known for full on screaming at each other and making Eiji play referee to whatever the nights chosen game was.

- You never let Katsuki live it down when you absolutely crush him in Mario Kart.

- I hc that as he gets older, Kiri starts growing his hair out more and he looovesss to sit between your legs and let you play with and braid his hair.

- Bakugou's not big on you playing with his hair but sometimes he does let you paint his nails a solid black, claiming it looks good with his hero suit.

- With them being busy pro heros, getting everyone's schedules to align can be difficult, but you make it a goal for all three of you to sit down for dinner together at least once a week. Most of the other nights, it's usually you with either one of them, or you don't even have dinner together at all.

- Bakugou's not much of a partier, so he's usually the DD when y'all go out with your friends. He does enjoy a drink or two on the nights he's not too tired to stay up after work. When you guys host, it becomes Kirishima's personal mission to get him absolutely /trashed/.

- Bakugou becomes VERY clingy when he drinks and he opens up in a way his friends don't usually get to see. You find it quite endearing.

- Before the three of you formally announced your relationship to your group of friends, everyone could tell with how handsy he was with Kiri. Everything finally came to a head once Shoto walked in on them making out in the hallway. He came back, nervous to tell you how he had caught your boyfriend's infidelity, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter when the blonde in question came back into the room, Kiri in tow, both of their faces bright red at being caught.

- It took your friends no time to warm up to the idea, Mina jumping up with a squeal and shouting at how Denki now owed her money from a bet.

- At night, you guy switch between the two bedrooms depending on the mood. Bakugou's bed is bigger, but there's something extra cozy about how many pillows Kiri keeps.

- The three of you are just a bunch of grown up kids who love each other very much and are doing their best to navigate life together :’)

#bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kirishima fluff #poly!kiribaku #kiribaku x you #kiribaku x y/n #kiribaku x reader #eijirou fluff #katsuki fluff #bakugou smut #mha smut #mha fluff #kirishima smut

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facioleeknow · 6 days

Note

Hi ele! Ive been following for a while but haven’t sent any requests. Sooo, im here with one:

Dom!Husband!Hyunjin x Sub!Fem!Reader

Reader and hyunjin were cuddling, until things started to get heated.

Tysm!

First but not last ° Hwang Hyunjin

You're needy, really needy so Hyunjin decides to haul you on top of his lap and let you take what you want.

Wc: 993 Genre: smut, 18+ ONLY

Tw: groping, creampie, unprotected sex, sub reader, dirty talk, riding, humping, first time on top, crying, reader cums quickly, sub space, hints at after care, let me know if I missed something!

AN: Reblogs and comments are always welcome and very highly appreciated! If you want to be tagged on my work go on my masterpost!

Lazy Sundays with your husband were the best. Laying down on the couch, watching stupid tv shows and cuddling together- your skin on his, his warmth enveloping you. Unfortunately these types of days were very rare. Both of your schedules were very hectic so whenever you had free time you always decided to stay in and bask in each other's presence.

The drama on the tv had been playing for hours, it was an old one that you and Hyunjin had particularly liked and rewatched religiously. Hyunjin's big, warm hand ran up and down your naked back under your t-shirt. It was something he did habitually, nothing new, but there was something about his touch that day. His fingertips sent sparks through your whole body. Goosebumps rose on your back in an irregular pattern. Sweat collected on the back of your neck and your breath was shallow. It was impossible that your husband hadn't noticed but he remained focused on the tv.

Your panties had begun to stick to your core uncomfortably and not even the squishing and rubbing of your plush thighs did anything to alleviate your ache.

When you started to squirm and wriggle, Hyunjin turned to look at you.

“What is it, my love?” his voice and his eyes were sweet as always when he talked to you. A whine escaped your lips, your head buried in his chest.

“Jinnie, I need you,” you whined and panted.

“You need me baby?”

Your lower lip trembled and your eyes welled with tears, it was a pitiful sight, but Hyunjin loved it when you got desperate like this. You nodded.

“Then come get what you want, my sweet,” Hyunjin hadn't even finished his sentence that he was hauling you into his lap and pushing your clothed pussy onto his hard length. Your lips formed an O as you felt him pressed up onto you.

“But I've never…” your confidence wavered.

“It's time you learn, you're a big girl, baby,” Hyunjin saw the insecurity in your eyes, “you're gonna be fine baby, just do what feels good for you and you'll do great,” he reassured you.

You hummed at his words, he never would have lied to you. With that your husband pressed your pelvises back together again, your pussy pulsed and gushed. With small uncertain movements, you started grinding on him, back and forth. His dick twitched in his boxers and grew even harder, a wet patch of precum stained his underwear.

Hyunjin's eyes twinkled with love as he gazed up at you. You were beautiful, like a queen on her throne.

The movement of your hips had started to get more and more frantic, arousal and pleasure clouded your mind.

“Shit, slow down, my love, you're gonna hurt yourself,” his voice was shaky, the proof of the unfathomable pleasure you were making him feel. His hands gripped the juncture between your torso and your thighs, his fingers digged into the flesh of your ass, effectively stopping your movements.

“Hyunjinnie, inside, please, I need you inside, please, inside, inside,” you kept bubbling, your forehead resting on Hyunjin's shoulder. Your husband gently patted your ass and lifted you up and shaky legs to free his dick from its confines. When he finally sheathed himself inside you, a high pitched cry came out of your mouth and he sighed in pleasure. Your pussy hugged him perfectly, your velvety warm walls felt almost comforting to him.

“You can move, baby, try rocking your hips back and forth.*

Hyunjin didn't even have to repeat himself that you started to furiously hump him, searching for your Hugh and your high only. Small ‘huh’s were the only sounds coming from you while Hyunjin threw his head back and panted loudly at your actions. Your slick dripped down his balls and the wet sounds you were making echoed and bounced of the walls.

“My little lover humping me like a dumb puppy. You're making me feel so good, do you feel good, my muse?” Hyunjin's voice was husky and sensual, it went straight to your pussy and made a ring of white cream collect around Hyunjin's girth.

“I can't, Jinnie, I can't,” you whined pathetically.

“Aw, baby, do you need me to touch your little clit? Get it all wet as well? Rub you until you're all sore?” You didn't have to answer, he wasn't looking for an answer. His long and warm fingers found your clit and began rubbing and pinching roughly just how you liked. The pleasure downed all you all at the same time and in an instant you could feel your high approaching. It was one of the fastest and most powerful orgasms you had ever reached, never in your life you had gotten so worked up so fast but then again never in your life had you been on top.

Your humping sped up and Hyunjin knew you were close, after the years spent together you were like an open book to him. The hand that was resting on waist reached under your t shirt and pinched your right nipple, hard. You wailed.

Your high washed over you in mere seconds, leaving you panting and exhausted, but Hyunjin hadn't cum and you had to stay awake.

“Jinnie please, cum in me, please I want it inside, I want to be full of you,” you babbled tiredly. Hyunjin started thrusting into you strongly, you could feel him hit your cervix every time. The pleasure mixed with the pain and you slipped into that dimension where everything is made of cotton and the world feels soft.

Your husband reached your high shortly after you, his cum shot deep into your womb and filled you up to the brim.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you kept repeating. Hyunjin's tired hands lifted up and started petting your hair lovingly, trying to ground you.

“It's all right baby, you're safe with me. Let's get you cleaned up okay?”

#straykidsland #kpop #reader insert #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #ask #anon #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut

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foreverinadais · 8 months

Text

bad date: j.l

summary: you find yourself on a bad date. in desperation, you call your ex, jake lockley, hoping he can help you. which he does, in ways you never could've bargained for.

warnings: smut (eek), dry humping, kissing, light choking ig??? jake puts his hand around reader's neck, fluff, teasing, reader's date is a twat like he seriously sucks, angst but not with jake, no use of y/n or pronouns :) ~part of the ex! mk series but can be read standalone!!!~

word count: 3.4k

ex!mk series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

It felt wrong to be on a date. Extremely wrong. You felt as though you were being disloyal, despite having no commitments, no one to be disloyal too. The events of a couple of weeks ago were still freshly embedded in your brain. It was as though every time you blinked, you remembered a different detail from your conversation with Marc, or a different look from your car ride with Jake, or a different touch from your comforting of Steven.

You had never been quite so confused.

You almost cancelled the date that had been scheduled for quite some time. But doing that would admit you weren’t over your exes. And admitting that would put all the work you had done in getting over them to shame.

So, you got ready, put on your finest outfit with the glamour you desired, and got a taxi to the restaurant you were meeting him at.

He seemed nice enough over text. You had shared stories, even laughed at his pick up lines. He was handsome in a way which felt… unnatural. You struggled to find attraction to other people after so long denouncing everyone. It felt odd to look at a person, that wasn’t your person, in any way other than politeness.

He had embraced you, even kissed your hand, and you worried as you felt nothing. He had opened the door for you, even pulled your chair out, waiting for you to sit and still… nothing. He was perfectly nice.

Until he started talking.

“I just do not understand the people who say looks mean nothing. I mean, obviously, I am attractive, I know that. And you’re decent looking. We’re attracted to each other, nothing wrong with that.” You cocked an eyebrow, taking a long sip of wine as you hummed.

“Right. I mean, I think appearance is surface level. Other things matter more, like how much you laugh together, your morals… good conversation.” He scoffed, waving over the waiter with just his hand. Ew.

“Should’ve known you would think like that. Crickey, wonder what other opinions you have in that brain of yours?”

“Actually, I have a lot.”

“Right, Would love to hear about those, that’s why I came on this date.” The sarcasm dripped off his words and anger bubbled in your stomach. You opened your mouth to talk when the waiter came over, notepad in hand. “I’ll have the steak -rare- with the potatoes and veg. Gotta get the protein in after a work-out.” You cringed and the waiter shot you a sympathetic look.

“And for you?”

“I’ll have the lasagne, please. With garlic bread.” The man in front of you chuckled, but it felt cold.

“Are you sure? Don’t want to have to kiss you with garlic breath.” Your stomach lurched at the thought of kissing him, but it was by no means a positive feeling. You would rather be sick.

“Make that extra garlic.” You said, and the waiter nodded with a smug, ‘certainly.’

Your date talked at you for the next fifteen minutes. He told you his life story, his career, about his friends and their “absolutely wild times, we go kinda crazy, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle it.” You were relieved when the food came out, so you had a moment of silence.

You wanted to leave. To shout at him, get up, and go. But you knew that wasn’t smart. He seemed like the type to follow you out the restaurant and ridicule you for making a scene, before claiming he was a ‘nice guy’.

You stuffed another piece of garlic bread in your mouth as you attempted to plan your next move. “These potatoes are vile. God, you want something done right, I can’t even eat this.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead shrugging.

You had eaten at supersonic speed to rush the date, to get home and snuggle under your covers watching a shitty romcom whilst eating the leftover cake in your fridge. You were relived as he swallowed the last bite of food, putting his cutlery down and sighing deeply. “Well that was a load of shit. The food, I mean, not you, darling.” You almost threw your food back up but managed to keep it down.

“Hmm. Right, should we-”

“Dessert first, right? Not that either of us need it but can’t have a date without something sweet.” The wink he sent you made your whole body curl in disgust. If you had to spend more than thirty seconds more with him, you were sure you’d end up stuffing your ears full of cheese just to never him speak again. This was the worst date you’d ever been on. You weren’t expecting the best date ever, but at least something to distract you from-

The idea hit you all at once.

Pulling out your phone, you pretended to look concerned, opening the one contact you knew would be readily available right now. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” You said as your date just shrugged.

Standing from your chair, you found an empty corner, hitting the call button and desperately holding the phone to your ear. It only took a couple of rings before you heard the familiar, “Yes?”

“Jake, you gotta pick me up. I’ll act like you have an emergency and you need my help or something, and then I’ll hastily leave, and you can get me in your cab and-”

“Woah, woah, slow down. What’s goin’ on? Estas en peligro? Are you in danger?” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“Nothing like that. I’m just… this is kinda awkward but I’m on a date.” You could imagine him tensing up as his breathing changed slightly. “But it’s terrible and awful and I just, if I spend one more second with him I’ll end up killing someone.” Jake chuckled, and you scoffed. “It isn’t funny! Look, you owe me. And here’s your chance to pay me back like right now. As fast as you can. I don’t care how many laws you break getting here.”

“Relax, Carino. I got in the car when you started talking.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat and your heart skip.

“Thanks, Jake. I’ll send you my location.” He hummed, and you hung up, quickly sending the restaurant name before returning to your date.

“I’m so sorry but my friend’s had an emergency. This has been… lovely… though.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I have too, yeah.”

He scoffed, and you noticed a shift in his persona. “Figures. Everyone leaves me.”

“Nonono, it isn’t anything like that! My friend-”

“Likely story. You know, I’m too good for you anyway. You won’t get a date with someone like me again.”

“Well, thank fuck for that. In fact, I’m deleting every dating app I have just to make sure I never do!” It came out before you could bite your tongue, but fuck, it felt good.

“Whatever. Didn’t want to fuck you anyway.”

“Excuse me? That’s all this was? God, you’re such an arsehole! Fuck you, I’m leaving. I’ll pay my half at the till.” He started ranting about something, about how you ‘probably couldn’t afford it’ and how ‘you’re lucky he’s being nice’ but you were already walking away.

You paid for your meal, apologising to the waiter for the arsehole’s rude behaviour, but she just smiled and handed you a piece of dessert in a takeaway box; “It’s on the house.” You smiled, ignoring the shouts from your date as you left the restaurant.

You were beyond grateful to see him. He was wearing his driving gloves, the rough leather ones that you loved. He had got out the car, waiting anxiously to see you. You saw his sigh of relief when he did. You couldn’t help yourself.

You practically ran toward him, watching his face of shock turn to acceptance as you reached his arms. You wrapped an arm around his waist, careful not to drop your food as he engulfed you in a hug. “Hi.” You whispered into his chest, beyond grateful he was there. You knew you could look after yourself. You didn’t need a man to come to your rescue.

But he wasn’t just a man.

Secretly, you were looking for an excuse, any excuse, to call them again.

“That bad, huh?” He said as you pulled away, scanning your face as if he hadn’t seen you in years.

“Worse.” You wanted to convey a serious composure. It had been terrible. But if you didn’t laugh, you’d definitely cry. Jake rose an eyebrow as you began chuckling, covering your mouth to try to contain it. But eventually, it started pouring out, until you were out of breath laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Jake asked but couldn’t help smiling himself. “Huh?”

“It was the worst date ever.” You managed to get out, and even though Jake couldn’t quite understand, your laughter was so contagious, he couldn’t stop himself from joining in. People passing by shot you a few weird looks, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you released your emotions in the healthiest way you had for a while.

Eventually, you calmed down, wiping a tear from under your eye as Jake looked at you in admiration. “Want a ride?” You smiled, glancing back at the restaurant before nodding. Jake opened the door for you as you climbed in the cab.

“We have to stop doing this.” You said as Jake had pulled up to your flat. You had told him every detail about your date from hell, down to what seasoning you had on your food.

Jake had listened neutrally, apart from whenever you mentioned that man. His blood boiled as he thought about you on a date, thought about another man looking at you, making comments about you.

But he ignored the jealously, instead focusing his negative feelings on your date. “He sounds like a fucking asshole. Should’ve gone in there and given him a piece’f my mind.” He had said,gripping the steering wheel, but you brought him down, assuring him you had taken care of it and would be deleting him off every app you had him on.

“Doin’ what?” He asked, and you gestured between the two of you.

“Picking each other up? Calling each other? Seeing each other at all?” Jake nodded, but smirked.

“Almost like we can’t get enough of each other.” He teased and you tried to ignore the effect he had on you.

“Almost like you can’t get enough of me.”

“Ey? How’d ya reach that conclusion? You called us.”

“You called me first! I thought it was just something we did now.”

“Sounds like it’ll become a bad habit.”

“Maybe. But sometimes, I like being bad.”

“I remember.” The air shifted and suddenly, there was too much space between the two of you. You watched as he gulped, watched as the vein in his neck tensed and his lips twisted up in the familiar way they did.

“Thanks for the lift. Again.” You said, chuckling lightly, trying to clear the fog in your mind.

“Right. Anytime.”

“Anytime huh? That’s dangerous.”

“Maybe. But I like danger.”

��I remember.” You teased his words from earlier, and he shot you a small smile. Fuck, you wished he hadn’t looked over; and so did he. You held eye contact a beat longer than you had intended, your heart skipping a beat as his eyes flicked briefly towards your lips. You swallowed harshly, pulling yourself away from the moment, forcing yourself to make a move out of the car. “I should really…” You pointed toward your flat, smiling awkwardly as he nodded.

“Right. You should rest. I’ll see you, well, whenever either of us need a lift.”

You chuckled, nodding, “Well, thanks.”

“Por supuesto, anytime, seriously.” You didn’t want to leave. This felt different from every interaction with them since you had broken up. Something was screaming at you to stay, and you didn’t think it was the remnants of wine left in your system.

No, it was as if an invisible force was willing you to him, to his scent, his warmth, his stupidly attractive smirk. He noticed your hesitation, eyebrow raised in question. “If you’re gonna sit here all night, lemme know so I can turn off the engine.” He teased jokingly, and you forced a laugh.

“ ‘m going now, just… preparing for the cold.” He nodded but didn’t look convinced, amusement lingering in his features. “Okay, ready now!” You felt suddenly embarrassed, deciding to get the inevitability of your leaving over with. “Goodbye, Jake.” You said quietly, sticking your hand out as if to shake his hand.

“You want me too…”

“I don’t know! I thought it was a nice, civil gesture to end this terrible evening with!”

“A handshake…?”

“Fine, it was dumb anyway-” You began, retracting your hand before he grabbed it with his gloved one.

“No, no, c’mon.” He squeezed your palm with his own, and your skin tingled at the contact. The friendly gesture was corrupted in your brain as he shook your joined hands, a smug look on his face at the way your breath hitched. “There, happy now?”

You couldn’t think. Could hardly breath as you shook your head, ‘no’. Because it wasn’t enough. No amount of contact would ever be enough.

You didn’t think about the possible aftermath of your next action. You couldn’t think about anything but him. With zero hesitation, you were shuffling forward in your seat, hands falling on his jacket as you pulled him toward you slightly. Your lips barely grazed his, but it was enough to send your heart soaring.

No sooner than you had done it, you pulled away. It was his move. His cho

Jake looked to your gaze, then down to your lips, repeating the action twice. His eyes were glazed over, and you were sure his mind was reeling, his alters talking over each other, but he couldn’t hear anything apart from your heavy breathing and all he could smell was your perfume-

His hands cupped your cheeks, a small groan leaving his lips before they were on yours. You sighed in content, moving your lips with his as if you had never stopped. Your hands found his hair, tugging on the familiar locks gently as he traced your jaw with his fingers.

You didn’t ever want to stop kissing him. It felt so familiar yet so distant, as if you had only ever dreamt of moments like this. When in reality, you had kissed him thousands of different times. And it all came flooding in to this moment.

Jake pulled back slightly, breathless. You wondered why he had stopped, about to ask when you felt his thumb trace your bottom lip. Your breath hitched as he pulled lightly, your mouth obediently opening for him. He smiled before pulling his own lip between his teeth, eyes dark as he gently pushed his thumb into your mouth.

You made a noise of shock, but quickly pushed it away as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his thumb, inviting him to push further. Jake groaned, almost in disbelief, eyes never leaving yours. “Fuck, baby.” His words were drawn out, like they always were in situations like this. It drove you crazy. “C’mere, need you t’ be closer.” He said, voice husky as he apprehensively removed his thumb from your mouth, quickly silencing your groan of disapproval with his lips.

Jake pulled you over the gearstick, careful you didn’t hurt yourself, not that you cared at all about your safety right now. He sighed in relief as you swung your legs over his lap, straddling him as your arms looped around his shoulders, bringing him impossibly closer. “Relax, Carino, ‘m not goin’ anywhere.” He chuckled against your lips, but you hardly heard as you rolled your hips forward.

His chuckles turned into groans as you found a pace, desperate to feel him against you, everywhere. Jake held onto your waist, helping you move rougher against him, trying to keep kissing you but fuck it felt so good.

You pulled away first, breathing heavy in pleasure as small moans left your lips. Every sound you made only amplified what he was feeling, and he couldn’t help but clash his lips to yours just to swallow them.

“Jake.” You whimpered, and he couldn’t recall a time his name had ever sounded so good. It was euphoric, just hearing you say his name.

“Fuck, baby, you sound ruined, and I’ve barely even touched you.” His words elicited another moan from you as your head fell into his shoulder, hips rolling faster to chase a high you couldn’t reach on your own, or with any other partner you had tried with since them.

Jake squeezed the flesh of your waist, still guiding your movements as his other hand went to the back of your neck. He tugged you up, watching as your bottom lip slipped between your teeth. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Lemme hear what I do to you.” He pulled your lip out from your teeth, and you let out a broken moan, eyes squeezing shut as his teeth bit possessively at your neck.

“Who’s makin’ you feel this good?” His voice had an edge to it, dark and dirty. It made your thighs clench harder around him.

“You.” You whimpered, eyes rolling back as you felt yourself hurdling closer to the edge.

“Not that prick from your date, huh? Ey, look at me. Who makes you feel like this? Need’ta hear you say my name.”

“You, Jake! Always you!” You practically sobbed, overwhelmed and so, so close. All your senses were heightened, and you couldn’t recall the last time you had felt this level of pleasure. And he hadn’t even touched you yet.

Jake chuckled darkly, his hand slipping up to your neck, squeezing only slightly, but it was enough to send your mind reeling. “Thaaat’s it.” His words were drawn out in arousal. You were at the edge, practically falling off, and Jake could tell. Even after all this time, he could read your body perfectly.

“You can let go, Carino. Let go f’me, c’mon, there you go.” He cooed as you clutched onto him, gasping and repeating his name like a mantra as you reached your peak. Jake kissed your shoulder, stroking at your back as your body shook with aftershocks. “Did so good f’me, baby.” He whispered and you practically melted against him.

The windows were covered in perspiration from the events inside the car, and your heavy breathing filled the car. Jake whispered terms of endearment in your ear as you snuggled into his body. It was hot inside his car, yet somehow, you couldn’t get enough of his heat.

Eventually, you felt strong enough to speak, lifting your head up to face him, skin glowing in a thin layer of sweat and euphoria. Jake’s smiled matched your own as he cupped your cheeks, bringing you in for another kiss. “Wow.” You whispered against his lips, and he chuckled, agreeing.

You stroked the side of his face, tracing the details of his skin with soft fingertips. Jake leaned into your touch, savoring the softness of your actions. Neither of you were thinking about the consequences. And if you were, neither of you cared. Not right now. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He had almost forgotten that happiness existed outside of you.

“It’s late.” He said suddenly, and you sat up straighter. “You need rest, especially now. I don’t wanna disrupt that.”

“Wait, what? I just kinda figured… you don’t want to come up with me?”

“Well… I thought you were finished.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t get to…” You looked down at his lap, at the prominent issue still there, and you smiled teasingly.

“Trust me, baby, that was all I needed.”

“But I want to make it up to you.” You innocently ran a hand down his chest, stopping just before his belt and he tensed.

“You don’t have to-”

“I want too. If you want too.” You watched as he tutted, before nodding. “Please?” Your voice was soft but seductive as you ran a hand through his hair, placing a gentle kiss to the side of his jaw, then his cheek, then just next to his lips.

You felt drunk on him and you didn't care about what this could mean. How far it could set you back. You were too far gone, too deep already. You needed him. You always needed him.

Jake groaned, squeezing the flesh of your waist. “Joder eres tan bueno -fuck you’re so good- when you ask so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”

a/n: i have never written smut before so this was a fun venture into it!!! i promise more parts are coming. i was conflicted on how to do this chapter but it kinda found it's own end. the next one will involve our other two boys yayyy :) i am really enjoying writing this series. thank you so much for reading!!!

tags: @rmoonstoner @marinalor @readingfan @neteyamsluvts @howellatme @nana90azevedo @midgardian-witch @daddyjackfrost

#moon knight #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockley fluff #jake lockley #jake lockley smut #moon knight smut #moon knight x reader #moon knight angst #moon knight fluff #ex! jake lockley

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hannieehaee · 22 days

Note

hi there, gorgeous! i love your writings so much you have no idea </3 i was just curious, do you have any thoughts on sub!minghao? i think you would write him so well ugh ;(

18+ / mdi

content: sub!minghao, afab reader, smut, he's a mess<3, softdom!reader, bondage, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1023

a/n: omg HI THANKUU I LOVE UR WRITING<3 tysm for requesting!!! <333

masterlist

"p-please ... just ... it's too much, i- i need, i-, just please ..."

it had taken a few hours to get to this point. long, excruciating, breath-taking hours.

this wasn't an usual occurrence. with minghao's busy schedule, it was rare to have the extensive time it took to get minghao to this level of sheer desperation.

it was saved for special occasions. sometimes minghao would come home utterly exhausted, holding onto you the moment he arrived and burying his face into your neck, kissing his way to your ear as he asked you to please take care of him. to please take away all the exhaustion he felt and replace it with pleasure only you knew how to give him.

and so here you were, with a sweaty and spent minghao with both hands tied up to both ends of the headboard.

it was difficult for you to control yourself when minghao acted like this, when he gave himself to you so easily. so you didn't control yourself. you touched and kissed and licked and loved him in every way you could.

it began with a few heavy kisses against his lips as you walked him back into your room. he was limp against you, letting you have full control as his lips pathetically followed your own.

it continued in the bedroom, as you pushed him onto the end, undressing him in the process. you then sat on him, kissing him again and again until he begged you to finally touch him. ignoring him, you commandeered him, getting him against the headboard and tying him up with handcuffs you kept for these special occasions.

your hands wandered all through his body after that, tweaking at his nipples and running your hands down to where he wanted them most. you'd touch him near completion, only to never give him the satisfaction of finding his high.

after hours of that, you were here. minghao was completely spent, a few lone tears gathering at the corner of his eyes as he begged you to please touch him again.

"i can't, just ... need you. now ... please? i- i'll do anything ..." he barely managed to get out as your mouth traveled from his lips to his nipples, licking at them yet again, occasionally nibbling at them to get a breathy gasp out of him.

you were sitting on his lap, only donning a pair of sleeping shorts and a lone tank top that gave minghao the perfect view of your cleavage. through your thin shorts, you could feel the immense hardness under you, lying completely ignored between your bodies.

making your way back up to his lips, you snuck a hand between you, finally grabbing onto his cock again, pumping it torturously slowly.

"wanna cum like this, pretty?", you asked against his lips.

his mouth was constantly letting out little huffs of pleasure, making it hard to actually kiss him, so you often opted to lick into his mouth and suck on his tongue, causing his eyes to roll back.

"n-no! want you. you, please! cunt ... need your cunt. please?", he babbled in murmurs, hands pulling at the restraints.

you finally took pity on him. it had been about four? no, five times that you'd jerked him off almost to completion by now. along with the prolonged foreplay you made him take part in. the poor boy was the image of desperation by now. his usual eloquent words were replaced by mumbles of nonsensical pleas.

throwing off your shirt and shaking off your shorts, you decided to tease him one last time, fondling your breasts with breathy moans to get a reaction out of him. he groaned at the sight, furrowed eyebrows and a look of frustration taking over his face as he whined at you to please sit on him.

needing no prep after the extraneous hours of watching your pretty boyfriend lose himself in your touch, you gave him what he had been begging for all this time and sat on his weeping cock, letting out a long whine at the stretch.

his eyes rolled back and his body shuddered with such intensity you were worried for a second. the veins on his arms popped out as he used all his strength to try and pull at his restraints. he was beyond desperate to fuck you by then. unlike other times in which he'd sit and let you ride him as he cried for you, he planted his feet on the bed, canting his hips upwards as hard and fast as he could.

taking the challenge, you began riding him harsher, taking turns between grinding and bouncing on him to give him the utmost pleasure. your hand then came to scratch at his chest, knowing it was beyond sensitive after the many love bites you'd left on it.

"'m not gonna last. it's so- it's so good, fuck! need more ... please, need- need to cum."

"with me? cum with me, pretty. so pretty when you cum. so good for me, baby. such- fuck .. such a good boy," you let out between moans, losing all rhythm as you simply chased your highs.

the pretty boy under you let out one last scream, shutting his eyes as his orgasm took over. a few tears streamed down his reddened face, adding to just how pretty and needy he looked. you buried your face in his neck soon after, letting your orgasm take you on your high with him.

your orgasms were full of high-pitched whines as neither of you halted in your movements, still messily humping against each other. somehow you became just as needy as him, crying against his skin up until your high ran out.

with the little energy you had left, you reached up to undo his handcuffs, falling into him yet again. his limp arms immediately wrapped around you, making you as small as possible in his arms.

"was i too much?" you asked against his skin after catching your breath.

"that was perfect. really needed that," he chuckled, kissing the nearest part of you he could with a sweet peck.

"love you, hao."

"love you more."

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heavenlyhischier · 8 months

Text

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬 - 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 7.6k (i got very carried away im sorry)

summary: after months of feeling like you've lost quinn, he ends up losing you. will the two of you find your back to each other?

warnings: angst, self-destructive tendancies, drinking, cursing, MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut, shower sex, fingering, oral (fem recieving), unprotected sex (use protection guys), teeny bit of a praise kink, brief breath play, please let me know if you see any mistakes. i finished this at 2 am and my vision was a little blurry at that point

note: this is part of my follower celebration! i'm so glad i finally wrote about the future captian of the vancouver canucks please guys im begging you.

Two years ago, you had met Quinn Hughes through a mutual friend, and he’s been a part of your life ever since. In the beginning, the two of you took things slow, wanting to truly get to know each other before getting into a relationship. Quinn wanted to make sure that his intense schedule that involved him being gone for long periods of time wasn’t going to overwhelm you, or make you feel alone. You wanted to make sure that, after all you had gone through, Quinn was going to remain a man of his word and make your relationship work despite the many odds that came with his job. And he did, at first.

For the first year and a half that you were with Quinn, he was texting, calling, facetiming as often as he could when he was gone. If he wasn’t doing something that related to his commitment to the hockey team, he was talking to you in some way. He would send you pictures of the places he would visit with short captions of how he wished you were there with him, and you would always smile at them and tell him that you would be, one day. Though, a few months ago, those texts started to become less frequent, and when you did get them, they sounded forced, almost like they had been rehearsed.

For a while, you tried to reason with yourself. Telling yourself that he was just getting busier, and the stress was getting to him. You tried to understand just how demanding and exhausting his job must be, so you brushed off his deteriorating communication. Instead, you tried to hold onto the hope that when he was finally back home, things were going to go back to normal. Quinn was going to walk back through the door to your shared apartment and hold you until you fell asleep. Then, that stopped happening too.

The first time you realized that Quinn was truly pulling away from you was when he didn’t come straight home after a seven day roadie. He hadn’t even told you that he was close to home yet. You only found out because Natalie had posted a snapchat story of JT holding Owen, and you were immediately dialing your boyfriend's phone number. Your heart sank when it only rang three times before cutting to his bland voicemail message.

You remember spending the rest of that night crying into your pillow, thoughts of what you could have done to make him distance himself from you clouding your brain. You knew that hockey players had an abysmal reputation, but you have never lumped Quinn into that group of men. You’ve always thought the world of him, considering yourself lucky to have the luxury of being loved by him. This had you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. When he came home later that night, he gave you a half-assed apology and explanation followed by a string of kisses that had you melting back into him.

Though even that started to dwindle, and eventually it stopped all together. When Quinn was home in Vancouver, he rarely made the effort to spend time with you, and when he did, it was almost like he wasn’t there. His face would always be buried in his phone, or he’d be playing video games with his friends and you’d simply be sitting next to him on the couch. Quinn had stopped trying to plan dates, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone on one with him. You could barely remember the last time the two of you had shared a kiss that was more than the obligatory chaste peck on the lips before bed.

You tried to reassure yourself and ignore the aching in your chest, but the way he put as much distance as he possibly could between the two of you, the less you were able to do that. Eventually, you’d decided that enough was enough, and if it felt like you weren’t in a relationship, then you weren’t going to be in one. No matter how badly it hurt.

The thought of breaking up with Quinn made you feel like someone was holding your head under water. The panic settling into your chest as you realized that you couldn’t breathe; your lungs burning the longer you went without any air. No matter how hard you tried to break the surface and gasp for air, your head was only shoved deeper and deeper into the water until you realized that the only escape was leaving him. Leaving the man you were still in love with was the only way for you to be able to breathe again.

When he finally came home that night, he didn’t even notice you sitting at the table, his head shoved in his phone as he walked through the door. “Quinn,” Your quiet voice bounced off the walls of your home. His head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise that you were still awake at this hour, but you continued, “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” He drew out, brows knitting together in confusion as he slipped his phone into his pocket, “What’s this about?”

His eyes darted throughout the apartment, and you watched as his shoulders fell when he realized that stuff was missing from all over. Your stuff. With Quinn avoiding your home like it was, or rather you were, the plague, it gave you enough time to gather everything you’d brought over with you, and temporarily move it into a friend's apartment until you could find your own. Despite the multiple breaks you had to take because you kept breaking down, you managed to do it all in one day.

“I think you know what it’s about,” You chewed at your bottom lip, blinking rapidly to keep yourself from crying.

“Baby, I-,” He tried as he reached over the table to grab your hand, but you quickly cut him off. The chair scraped against the floor as you abruptly stood, shoving his outstretched hand away from you.

“Don’t call me that,” You spat, vision blurring from the tears, “You can’t call me that anymore.”

“What are you trying to say,” He asked, his voice breaking, and that made you angry.

How dare he act like he was hurt when all he’s been doing is hurting you? He put you in this position. He pushed you away, made you feel like he didn’t want you anymore. He did this, and he doesn’t get to act like he’s the one that’s hurting.

“I’m saying that we’re done, Quinn. I’m breaking up with you,” You asserted through the salty streams falling down your cheeks. Though the words tasted bitter as they came out, you felt a slight, very very slight, sense of relief wash over you as you said the words out loud.

Your words hung over his head as you fell into an uncomfortable silence, eyes staying trained on him as you waited for a response. He stood at the table with his palms pressed against the wood, head down as he let out a shaky breath followed by a weak question.

“What do you mean ‘Why’,” You scoffed, shooting daggers into the top of his head, “Quinn, you’ve barely said a full sentence to me in the last week. You don’t talk to me when you’re gone anymore. Hell, half the time I don’t even know you guys are back unless someone posts about it. I just- It just feels like you don’t want this anymore, and that’s okay, but what you’ve been doing isn’t.”

“No,” He breathed out, his voice small and broken as he shook his head, “No, it’s not and I’m sorry. I don’t- Fuck, Y/N, I don’t know what to say right now. I lo-“

“Please don’t,” You interrupted, tearing your gaze away from him as you choked on your own cries, “Please stop, Quinn. I can’t do it anymore. I love you so much, but it’s gotten to a point that the person I fell in love with is gone even though he’s right in front of me.”

A part of you did want him to beg you to stay, to beg you to give him another chance because he will change. He will change as long as it means he got to have you, and he couldn’t live without you. But the more logical part of you was holding the spear, and it was telling you that you were doing the best thing for you. That leaving Quinn, while it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, it was the right decision for you.

“I’ve already got all of my stuff moved out,” Your voice cut through the thick silence, “You’re not home much so it made it pretty easy.”

You couldn’t help but throw the jab in there, but it was only to cover the thinly veiled agony that was truly going on in your heart and bleeding into the rest of your body. You didn’t want Quinn to know that saying goodbye to him was like death by a thousand cuts, and so you masked the pain the only way you knew how. With anger.

“I wish you and your team the best in the rest of the season, I really do. But I think it would be better for both of us if we don’t talk after this.”

Not waiting for his response, you made a slight show to toss the key to what was now his apartment onto the table in front of him, the gentle ding of the metal hitting the wood echoing through the empty room, before walking out of the door. You’d barely made it into the elevator by the time your feelings washed over you an aggressive wave that came seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere all at once. You were thankful that the ride down to the bottom was quick and no one else joined you, and that the main lobby was only occupied by the security guard who’s more than likely seen his fair share of crying women.

That night, you went to your friend's apartment and broke down into a mess of screams, tears, and pain. She held you as you cried, held your hair as you threw up, held your hand through the shower curtain because you didn’t want to be alone. She stood by you in your most desperate time of need, and she made it her own personal goal to maim the hockey player should she ever see him again.

Quinn didn’t text or call you, but you knew that he wasn’t doing the greatest for the first few weeks after your breakup. Petey and Brock had both called to check on you once they had figured out what had their teammate in the state he was in. They asked how you were doing, and not-so-subtly mentioned that Quinn wasn’t any better off than you were. Though, they quickly learned to not mention him unless they wanted to listen to you call them obscene words before ending the call and ignoring them for a few days. You knew their intentions were good, but you didn’t want to hear about how “awful” Quinn was.

If he had acted like he cared about you half as much as his friends were telling you he did, maybe you would have made the effort to ask about him. If he loved you half as much as they said he did, but he didn’t. And he’s made that clear to you. Of course you know you told him that you thought it best if the two of you didn’t talk anymore, but you had secretly hoped he wouldn’t listen. That he would be calling you and texting you, begging you to come back. Telling you how in love he was with you, but it was complete and utter radio silence.

Eventually, you were able to pick yourself back up enough to find your own apartment. Leila had insisted that you staying with her was never going to be a problem, but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever. You needed to try and move on from him, even though you weren’t quite ready to let go of him yet. You needed to try and find yourself again, and you couldn’t do that sleeping in the guest bed of your best friend and her boyfriend's apartment.

Leila’s worried eyes were practically carved into your skull at this point, but you didn’t blame her. She’s had to pick you up, physically and emotionally, more times than she had anticipated when you initially turned up at her door with puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Though she should have realized how deeply hurt you were the fourth time she held you after you had woken up thinking that your breakup was a nightmare, only to realize that it was reality that haunted your dreams.

No matter how hard you tried to forget about Quinn Hughes, the city you lived in was as riddled with memories and reminders of what once was. He was on every street you walked, in every store window you passed by. He was everywhere, and it made you feel like there was a shard of glass piercing your heart, unrelenting and unmoving. You wanted nothing more than to forget about the man who had torn your heart in two, and you were willing to do anything to do that.

The bar air that clung to your body was sticky with alcohol and sweat, but you didn’t seem to mind as you moved your hips to the beat of whatever terrible remix they were playing. The unnamed man behind you had his hands planted firmly on your waist, but you didn’t pay him any mind as you let yourself dance. The alcohol swimming through your veins aiding your ability to forget about all of the hurt you had yet to heal from.

For the last three months, you often found yourself in some sort of bar or club to drink your pain away. It was cliche, but you hadn’t stumbled upon any other outlet that allowed you to forget about the constant ache in your chest. Leila had tried to guide you towards less self-destructive ways of healing, but you didn’t listen to her. This way was guaranteed to ease your heartbreak, at least for the night and that was all you needed.

“I’m Wren,” The man yelled into your ear, an off-putting smirk slapped on his less than desirable features.

Your mouth dropped open, the blood pounding in your ears covering the music entirely. It was too close. His name was too similar, and it made the one thing you were trying to forget flood itself into your head. Images of Quinn and memories of the way his voice sounded pushed their way to the forefront mind, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

Without another word, you pushed the man away from you and scrambled towards the exit of the bar. Your vision turned bleary and clouded, from the tears or the alcohol, you weren’t sure. Ignoring the worried calls from strangers you shoved past, you rushed out into the crisp Vancouver air.

You stumbled over into the mostly empty alleyway, clutching at your chest as your back came in contact with the brick wall. You were aware of the many lingering eyes on you, but the feeling that was consuming you made their attention appear miniscule and irrelevant. All you could think about was Quinn and how he never even fought to be with you. How he gave you up so easily.

Leila’s boyfriend had seen you run out of the bar, and immediately darted towards the bathroom so he could grab her. With the help of a few random women, he was able to get her attention much faster, and she was rushing out of the bar and leaving him to close their tab. Leila heard you before she saw you, and that alone made her chest burn for you.

“Honey,” She delicately approached you, her voice calm and collected, “What happened?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue, but nothing was coming out but strangled breaths and mangled cries. Despite having seen you in this position more times than she could count, it broke Leila’s heart all the same. She maneuvered your body so that she could pull you into her lap, ignoring the fact that she was sitting on the ground in a dirty alley. She began rubbing soothing circles on your back and instructed you to try and follow her breathing pattern.

Once you were able to catch your breath, you let out an almost incoherent, “Why didn’t he come back?”

Leila was able to calm you down enough to get you back to your apartment nearly an hour later. She kept insisting that you just come home with her, but you already felt guilty enough for intruding so much on her personal life. You knew she didn’t mind, but you did, so you managed to convince her that you would be okay by yourself, and that you would call her if you needed her. Though, she wasn’t the person you ended up calling.

“You have reached the voicemail box of Quinn Hughes. Please leave a message after the tone.”

“I hate you, Quinn,” You started, your voice already raspy from the moments prior, “I hate you so much for making me believe that you ever loved me back the way that I loved you. I thought we were forever, you know. That’s what you told me. That we would get married and have our own family, but we saw how that turned out. It was never going to be me, was it?

“I just wished you would have had the balls to tell me that you fell out of love with me, if you ever did in the first place, or found someone else or whatever the fuck happened. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier knowing that I, or you, did something to make you not stop loving me. It’s just- The worst fucking part about all of this is, is that I’m still so in love with you that it physically hurts me to be without you, but that doesn’t matter does it?

“Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I guess I'm just trying to give myself closure so that I can really move on from you. I don’t know that I’ll ever stop loving you, but I’m going to try.”

Hanging up the phone, you threw it onto your couch and let out a gut wrenching sob that ripped through the stillness of your apartment. You fell to your knees and let everything you had been bottling up for the last three months bleed out of you. The world spun around you, your lungs burning as you gasped for air. Your fingers grasped at anything they could possibly wrap themselves around in an attempt to keep yourself steady.

You felt as if you were back to square one, and you hated that all it took was some man having a name that too closely resembled his. It was stupid, you thought, blatantly pathetic how easily you were thrown back into the fire you had done your best to crawl out of. You had almost healed all of the cuts Quinn’s treatment of you had left in your heart, but now they were gaping open once again.

Minutes passed by, or maybe hours you weren’t sure, and you had fallen into a limp ball on the floor of your living room. You had no energy to move from the spot as silent tears escaped their previous confinement. You stared lifelessly at the ceiling above you, mind too tired to fight off the dangerous thoughts floating about inside your head. It was only when sleep finally graced you that you were able to escape the pain of what-ifs.

The following morning, you were rudely awoken by someone aggressively and relentlessly knocking on your door. The sound ricocheted across the nearly empty walls of your apartment, and worsened the already excruciating pounding in your head. Pushing your tired body off the floor, you let out a quiet groan as nausea rippled from your core.

You passed by a mirror that Leila insisted you hang, and you outwardly cringed at your appearance. Your face swollen from last night's breakdown, and your makeup was smudged all across your face. Needless to say, your unwarranted guest was not going to get a presentable version of you.

Not bothering to check the peephole, you pulled the door open and time froze all around you. Quinn stood there with his hands in his pockets, head covered by the hood of his blue Canucks hoodie. His face was decorated with overgrown facial hair and deep set bags had found places underneath his eyes. Truly, he looked awful, but the sight of him in front of you made the already growing ball of nausea burst.

Quinn watched as your eyes simultaneously widened and hardened with an undetectable emotion, but he’s sure he could guess what it was. When he had woken up that morning, the last thing he’d expected to see was a missed call from you, let alone a voicemail. He’d listened to it a dozen times before calling Petey, asking him what he should do.

After a lecture that closely resembled the one he had already gotten from his teammate months prior that was followed by words of encouragement, he set off to your apartment. He only knew your address because Brock had accidentally let it slip when they passed by it one night. Truthfully, Quinn was expecting you to not answer the door or to slam it shut in his face when you saw him. That he was prepared for, but what he did not prepare himself for was you darting to the bathroom.

He stood in the hallway, conflicting emotions battling with each other as the sound of you retching reached his ears. He wanted to follow after you and comfort you like he’d done many times before, but he also didn’t want to make you even more uncomfortable than you undoubtedly were already. He opted to step inside and wait for you in the living room, preparing himself for whatever you were going to throw at him.

You were heaving into the toilet, panic running through every nerve in your body as you tried to focus on breathing rather than throwing up. The last person you had expected to show up at your door was here now, and you left him standing in the hallway. A million thoughts ran through your mind as you flushed the toilet, pushing yourself up off the floor for the second time in the last fifteen minutes.

Why was Quinn here? How was he here? You never gave him your address. Though a brief reminder that Brock knew where you lived was enough to answer that question for you, but nothing you could come up with answered why. You remember leaving him a voicemail in your drunken meltdown, but you couldn’t wrap your head around just what had gotten him to seek you out.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for far too long, and you wondered if Quinn was still here. You’d heard the door shut, but you couldn’t figure out if the footsteps that followed were inside your apartment or in the hallway. After quickly brushing your teeth and convincing yourself that he had left, you stepped back into the living room and were proven wrong. He had settled into the spot on the couch that he chose every time if he could; closest to the kitchen. His leg was anxiously bouncing up and down, and he was biting at his fingernails.

“What are you doing here,” You called out, nails digging into the palm of your hand as a way to keep yourself grounded.

The sound of your voice had Quinn’s head turning on a swivel before he was standing and taking a few steps towards you, but he stopped when you stepped backwards. He swallowed thickly, knowing that he was already treading through very dangerous waters by showing up at your apartment unannounced, and he didn’t want to do anything to further worsen that.

He instantly registered the tortured look in your eyes because it was the same one he’s been sporting since you left. Quinn knows he’s to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He should have fought harder. He should have fought, period, but he had his own reason for letting you go.

“You called me last night,” He started.

“I was drunk,” You firmly stated, heart beating loudly in your chest, “It didn’t mean anything.” You were lying, and he knew that, too. Quinn could always tell when you were lying.

“It meant something to me,” He rushed out, “Hearing your voice- Hearing you say that you thought I never loved you ripped me to pieces. I know I don’t deserve it, but can you please listen to my explanation? I know it won’t repair the damage I’ve done, but please. I was too scared before, but I’m not now.”

He rasped your name out like it was something sacred, like it held the entire world within its syllables. His eyes were glassy and filled with unshed tears as they bore into your own. He could tell that your heart and brain were at war with each other by the way you kept taking sharp breaths, and your eyes kept flitting away from him.

“I don’t know, Quinn. I’m trying to move on, and hearing you out will only undo all of the work I’ve put into doing that,” You tried, turning away from him but still staying in the living room.

“I know, baby,” The nickname tumbled out before he could stop it, sending a jab to your chest, “I know, but please. I will leave you alone after, if that’s what you really want. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You weighed your options in your head before letting out a hesitant, “Okay. I’ll listen, but if I want you to leave after, you’ll go?”

Your heart had won this battle, but you’re relying on your brain to save it later if need be. The sound of his approaching footsteps made the breath catch in your throat, but the feeling of his hand sliding into your own sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body. Your head snapped to his own, your eyes full of anxiety and familiarity.

He gently pulled you over to the couch, dropping your hand so that you could sit as far away from as you wanted. The air was crawling with nerves from both parties, but the lack of anger radiating off of you brought him some sort of comfort as he gathered his thoughts. Though, in your defense, you could never be angry at Quinn, no matter how badly he hurt you.

“I know that no apology can fix the hurt I’ve caused you, but I am sorry. I am so sorry for pulling away from you instead of talking to you. I never fell out of love with you, ever. Not then, and not now. Do you want to know the best thing that’s ever happened to me? It isn't hockey. It isn’t money. It’s you, and that terrified me. I was so scared that I was going to screw everything up.”

You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he cast you a stern glare and shook his head before continuing, “I never let that bother me until I overheard you talking to Leila about marriage and children, and I got scared. I started questioning if I was good enough for you. If I was even good for you. I’m gone so much with the team, and I’ve already missed so many of your accomplishments because I was on the road.

“I started thinking about us having kids. How many appointments would I miss? What if I missed the birth? What if I missed the baby’s first steps? I couldn’t imagine putting you through all of that by yourself, so I started pulling away. Was it a good idea? Absolutely not, but it made sense to me. I thought I was going to save you from heartbreak in the future, but all I did was cause it now instead.

“I didn’t call after you left because I thought I did the right thing. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but then I heard your voice this morning and I knew I had to fix it, if you’d let me. I couldn’t let you think that I never loved you, because I do. I love you so much, and I will do anything to prove that to you, should you give me the chance.”

You sat there in silence, digesting the words that had just been said to you as you let out quiet sobs. For nearly the last year, you had believed that Quinn didn’t love you, and now he was saying the exact opposite. He was begging for another chance, and that was what you had wanted, right? It still was, but the damage that was done wasn’t going to be easily fixable. You would have to start back at the beginning, and you’re not sure if Quinn was willing to do that.

“Baby,” He whispered, your silence lighting his skin on fire with nerves, “I don’t know what’s going through your head, but I want you to know that I meant what I said. I will do whatever it takes to fix this mess I created. Anything.”

The gears were turning in your head, trying to conjure any sort of coherent thought to tell him that you wanted this, but you were scared. You’d put so much faith and trust into Quinn, and he tore all of that down out of fear. What if he did that again?

“I want to,” You whispered, “I do, but what if you do it again? I can’t go through it all over, Quinn. I felt like I was going to die without you, and I can’t go through losing you all over again if you get scared.”

You felt his weight lift off the sofa, and before you realized what was going on, he was wedging himself in between your legs in front of you. He cupped both of your cheeks in his hands so you were looking at him, and you swear you blacked out for a second. Just because Quinn had hurt you, doesn’t mean the effect he had on you went away.

“You won’t lose me ever again, okay? My heart belongs to you. My heart beats for you. I promise to love you for the rest of my life, even if you don’t love me for the rest of yours.”

His hands were still on your cheeks as you gulped down the lump in your throat, his pleading eyes darting all across your face. Lucky for you, your heart and your brain had linked together as you let out an almost silent, “Kiss me, please.”

And he did. Quinn’s lips were on yours in an instant, hands dropping down so he could pull you into his chest. The kiss was full of desperation and months of lost time as the two of you clung to each other. He was holding your hips so tightly that you’re fairly certain they were going to bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were pulling him into you just as desperately, afraid that he was somehow going to disappear from right in front of you.

He briefly pulled away so that he could sit on the couch, pulling you into his lap not long after. He quickly reattached his lips to yours, and he kissed you with so much fervor that it had your head spinning. You could feel some of your sadness melting away, being replaced by passion and desire for the man underneath you. Almost as if a switch had flipped within you. You shifted your hips on his lap, and a throaty moan escaped his swollen lips as he slightly threw his head back.

“Be careful with that,” He let out a breathy laugh, “You know what that does to me.”

There was a teasing glint in your eye as you spoke, “I know.”

“Fuck me,” He groaned, subtly moving your hips against him.

“If you insist,” You drew out, leaning down to ghost your lips over his neck.

He threw his head back against the couch and screwed his eyes shut as your warm breath fanned across his neck. Your eyes flicked up to his face, and you couldn’t help but let a mischievous smirk form before dragging your tongue across the expanse of his neck. He let out a string of profanities as you latched your mouth onto the spot you knew would send him spiraling, but you quickly pulled away and hopped off of him.

“I need to take a shower,” You announced, a teasing tone to your voice, “I’m still gross from the bar.”

Quinn’s eyes snapped open, watching as you began to walk away. Only when he heard you ask if you were going to join did he jump off the couch and scramble after you. He shed his clothes as he followed you to the bathroom, leaving a trail of fabric in his wake. By the time he had reached your bathroom, you’d already turned the shower on and rid yourself of your own clothes.

“I do not deserve you,” He mumbled as his eyes raked over your naked body.

He’d already memorized every dip and curve of you, but he always treated it as if he was seeing all of you for the first time. Your body captivated him in all of the best ways, and it left Quinn breathless every time you graced him with it. He considered it a privilege to be able to bear witness to the Goddess of a woman in front of him, and he worshiped it like it was.

Despite all that has happened between the two of you, you still felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with Quinn. Unlike the guys who had seen you naked before, none of them treated it the way he did. He never made you feel insecure, and he always made every other part of you feel just as loved as your body. He admired your character, and even your flaws, all the same.

“You gonna stand there or are you going to join me,” You teased as you stepped into the shower.

The water enveloped you like a welcomed hug, and you let out a sigh of relief as the stickiness from last night was washed away. You were facing towards the shower, eyes closed and head tilted back. You heard the curtain rings slide against the rod before you felt Quinn’s chest pressed against your back. You wiggled against his hardened length, and he took your teasing as a green light.

His fingers trailed up along your hip, across your waist before dancing over your breast. He made a point to slightly lift his touch so he just barely grazed your nipple, and you let out a whine when he did. His hand briefly paused when he reached your collarbone as if he was going to change his mind, but he carefully wrapped his fingers around your neck and leaned down to brush his lips against your ear.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” He whispered before dipping his head down and attaching his lips to your neck.

While one hand tilted your neck to give him better access, his free hand trailed down your stomach and towards your center. The knot in your stomach grew the closer he got, but he was taking his time with you. Relishing in the moment he never thought he would have again.

“Quinn,” You whimpered, “Please.”

“Please what, baby? I need you to use your words for me,” He briefly broke his contact with your neck.

“I need you to touch me, please,” You were begging him, needing him to give you the release that no other man has before.

“Good girl.”

He slid one finger into you, an almost pornagraphic moan echoing off the tiles of your bathroom. You threw your head back against his shoulder, gripping at the slick shower wall for any sort of support before your knees buckled from under you. He carefully moved his digit inside of you, stretching your walls so he could add another.

“Jesus, baby. You’re so tight,” He groaned into your ear.

“‘S because no one’s touched me- Oh fuck,” You cried out as he inserted another finger, “No one’s touched me since the last time you did.”

Quinn knew he shouldn’t be as turned on by that as he was, but he couldn’t help it. Knowing that you didn’t let another man have you the way that he did only made him harder, and he didn’t think that was possible.

You were writhing against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, your moans filling his ears like they were his favorite song. He moved his thumb to press against your clit, and it was then that Quinn had to use his own strength to keep you standing. He worked his fingers against you, and he’s gotten you to the finish line enough times to know that you were already just about there, so he didn’t stop.

“Oh my god,” You cried out as his thumb rubbed circles and his fingers curled inside of you, “I’m almost the-Fuck.”

“I know, pretty girl. I know,” He murmured, keeping his pace steady.

Your legs are shaking and your vision becomes spotty as the knot inside you comes undone. He captures your lips with his own as you come all over his fingers, kissing you with the same amount of passion he’d had before everything happened. He was still supporting you with the hand that was previously on your neck, but you slowly regained the strength to support yourself as you came down from your high.

“You okay,” He asked, turning you around so that the water was no longer hitting your front.

“More than okay,” You gave him a sloppy smile, still slightly dazed from your orgasm.

“Good, because that was only the beginning,” He smirked, switching places with you so he could back you into the corner of your shower.

You watched as he turned and shifted the shower head so that it was spraying against the two of you as much. You pulled your brows together in confusion as you questioned him, “What about you?”

“What about me,” He feigned confusion as he slowly fell to his knees.

“You know what,” You quietly spoke, eyes wide in anticipation as his hands gripped your thighs.

“I’m getting all I need, baby. Don’t worry,” He glanced up at you, eyes sparkling with pleasure.

His fingers trailed against your thighs that were wet with a mix of water and your own juices. Goosebumps rose in wake of his touch, sending a shiver throughout your entire body. You kept glancing down at him with your lip pulled between your teeth, your heart still rapidly beating from your orgasm only minutes ago.

Quinn spread your legs with his hands before placing feathered kisses on the inside of your thighs, eliciting a few breathless moans from you. He stopped when he got against your aching core, his breath hitting it as he spared you one more glance.

With a swift movement, he was lifting your leg over his shoulder and then he was diving into you like it was his last meal. His facial hair was tickling your inner thighs, but all it did was add to the sensation flowing through your body. His hands were gripping at your legs to not only keep you steady, but to give him something to hold on to.

He was devouring you in a way that made it seem like he was enjoying it more than you were, but you highly doubted that to be true. His tongue worked against as he led you to yet another orgasm, mouth sucking and swirling in all of the right places. You tugged on his hair as you felt the familiar fire burning in your stomach, your head hitting against the tile wall.

Your second orgasm ripped through your body, rendering you temporarily blind yet again. He carefully placed your leg back beneath you, placing open mouth kisses against your stomach as he stood leaving behind a mixture of his saliva and your cum against your skin. He attacked your lips with his own in a dizzying kiss, his hands cupping and squeezing at your breasts.

“I’ve missed you so much,” He mumbled against your lips as he placed his forehead on yours.

“I missed you too. So much, Quinn,” Your eyes became misty with tears, but you tried to push them back.

“I’m not trying to ruin the moment or anything, but thank you for giving me a second chance. I definitely don’t deserve one, but I will keep my promise and do whatever it takes to win you back.”

You pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips before saying, “Well, you can start by properly fucking me.”

The softness in Quinn’s eyes darkened to something full of desire and lust, but he still managed to keep the look of pure admiration and love. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you into his chest and meeting your lips with a hungry kiss. You could feel him pressed against your thigh, and it made the already wet pool between your legs worsen.

“Need you to hold on to me baby. Wanna look at you,” He instructed as he pulled away, gesturing for you to wrap your arms around his neck, “Good girl.”

Quinn rubbed himself between your folds, teasing your entrance and watching your face twist in desire and want. Slowly, he pushed himself inside of you and let out a mangled moan as your walls clenched around him. He paused and let you readjust to his size, doing his best to remain still and not roughly jerk his hips back.

“Move,” You whimpered, bucking your hips forward for any sort of friction, “Please move.”

With your pleading, Quinn was pulling himself nearly all the way out and slamming back in at a pace he knew you both liked. His thrusts were hard and deep, filling you in just the right way to leave you gasping for more. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on his hips to allow himself a better angle, and you swear you blacked out for a second. You were grateful for the strength he has from hockey or you’re certain you’d both be on the floor by now.

Your loud moans mixed with his own, surely filling the entirety of your apartment with the sound. A part of you hoped your neighbors couldn't hear, but a bigger part of you didn’t care. You finally had him back, and the both of you were making up for lost time. His hips snapped against your own as he brought his free hand back up to your neck, squeezing at the sides with the pressure he knew wouldn't hurt you.

You were clenching around him, sending him into a fit of blinding, white hot ecstasy. No matter times Quinn had imagined you when he fucked his own hand, it was absolutely nothing compared the real thing. Watching as your eyes screwed shut and his name fell from your lips in desperate whines was a sight he would never get tired of.

“Oh my god, Quinn,” You shakily cried out, your eyes rolling backwards and the top of your head hitting against the shower wall as he thrusted into you, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Such a pretty girl,” He praised as his hand dove between your bodies, his fingers coming to rub at the bundle of nerves, “You look so pretty wrapped around me, you know that? Fuck, you feel so good.”

You were gripping at his back as he split you open, your vision coming in and out as he rubbed at your overstimulated clit and repeatedly slammed into you. Your name was tumbling from his lips in grunts, only tightening the coil in your stomach as his forehead dropped to your shoulder. You could feel the heat swirling inside you as he rammed himself into you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Quinn, I’m going to- I’m gonna,” You stuttered as he worked himself deeper, harder.

“I know, baby. Let go,” He whispered your name like it was holy and just, “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”

His words sent you flying over the edge, your third orgasm of the night sending you into a fit of unmistakable pleasure. Waves of contractions washed over your body as Quinn fucked you through your orgasm, his own crashing over him not too far after. His thrusts became sloppy and slow as he came inside of you, his head burying itself into the crook of your neck as he let out stifled moans against the skin.

You’re not sure how long you clung to each other with him still inside you, sounds of your heavy breathing replacing the previous moans that were probably still echoing somewhere in your apartment. However, what felt like hours but was probably not even five minutes later, Quinn pulled himself out of you, guiding your still shaking leg back down and keeping your body upright.

“Time to get cleaned up, yeah,” He teased, his thumb and forefinger coming up to grab your chin.

“Good thing we’re already in the shower,” You bantered back, eyelids slowly drooping courteous of the man in front of you.

You lazily pulled Quinn back into your hold, meeting his lips for yet another searing kiss. Yet this time, there was no desperation. There was no hunger. There was only love, and hope. Hope that, despite the damage that has been caused, the two of you will return to the best version of yourselves and let yourselves be happy without worry or fear.

again, please let me know if you see any mistakes. and let me know what you think! xoxox

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes smut

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prodkatsu · 8 months

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him as your long distance boyfriend ⨾ itoshi sae

sae call or texts you before leaving for his practice.

he is a guy who follows his routine through and through. when you two started dating back in high school, he had a habit of calling you before he left his house in the morning to go to school, even though you two were in the same school. that habit stayed even when he moved to spain.

now the time zone doesn't let him call you but he'll leave a message before he goes to practice.

sae facetime you before a big game and treat it as his good luck.

if you can't attend the match because of your busy schedule, be ready to get a call from him any time. your presence brings him good luck and even though you're not here he wants to see you before his games.

sae doesn't like giving daily updates about him but he would hate you if you don't talk about your day with him.

you would ask him to tell you about what he did today and he would reply with the same old response — "i woke up for a workout, left for practice, came home, missed you and slept."

but he would be very present to hear about your day, even though it wasn't anything grand. doesn't matter if you're talking about mundane things in your life or about the juicy gossips you heard around your office.

sae keeps the promise ring you two have around his neck with a chain.

one time after an intense game he saw his ring missing and he went crazy over it. he made everyone in his team look for it till four in the morning in the whole stadium until he found out that he had left the ring in his shower before the match.

one of the worst days in his life and to make sure it never happens, he now wears it around his neck.

sae likes to keep his life private and would rarely talk about his personal life. he once managed to let it slip that he has a girlfriend and now everyone asks him about you.

sae takes you to all his favourite places in spain when you visit him for a game or just because you miss him.

sae is a protective man who would bite off anyone's head if they ever dared to talk about you in an inappropriate way.

one time when you called him, shindo picked up and he made some vulgar comments. he also told you that he is sae's work husband and got smacked really hard by sae who snatched the phone out of his hands.

now he rarely calls you in front of his teammates.

sae, who was very happy when you got a placement in spain, and asked you to move in with him.

#— prodkatsu 𔓘 #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #this sae is very occ #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae fluff #blue lock imagines #blue lock #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff

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sea-salted-wolverine · 1 month

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In honor of the moose/Iditarod rule 34 chaos post reaching 1000 notes and then Dallas Seavy winning the Iditarod here are all the unhinged stories and things I know about that race

They changed the rules and schedules so you can't do this anymore, but there was a subset of mushers who would race the Yukon Quest and the Iditarod back to back. That's a 1000-mile race followed by another 1000-mile race through some of the harshest terrain on earth in late winter. And the Yukon quest doesn't even finish where the Iditarod starts. To do this required putting dogs in a plane OR having another team of dogs waiting in anchorage and someone to deal with both teams of dogs.

The first woman to win the Iditarod was Libby Riddles in 1985.

Only to have her finish promptly blown out of the water by Susan Butcher who won the race in 86', 87', 88', and 90' while setting speed records the whole way.

Susan did race in 85' but she ran into a moose early and it killed two of her dogs and hurt the rest so she scratched. Dallas got lucky this year.

She was also the first person to mush a dog team up to the summit of Denali, the tallest mountain in North America. This is not what dog teams are intended to do, I don't know why she even wanted to, other than to prove it was possible. I don't think anyone has since.

The race now requires GPS trackers on all the racers and you would not believe the bitchfit everyone threw over those. Mushers can either hop between checkpoints or camp on the trail and it may surprise you to learn that these are the kind of people who have secret camp spots in the woods that they don't want anyone to know about. So now, everyone has acquiesced to the tracker requirement but you must have an account on the race website if you want to see them.

The race has 2 paths that alternate even and odd years with different checkpoints but every year includes a section of race that crosses the sea ice, approximately 50 miles from Shaktoolik to Koyuk. so forget landmarks. point the sled north and hope you're going the right way.

the race is in honor of the 1925 Serum Run and the diphtheria outbreak, but the trail itself is the old freight route which is almost twice the length. also, it's a freight route for hauling freight which means the the racers are going at more or less lightspeed as compared to the intended use.

the most effective way to avoid frostbite on your face is a fur hood and duct tape on your cheeks and nose. Cold-related injuries are rare but far from unheard of. The average number of toes and fingertips among mushers is lower than that of the general population.

The finish line is a massive burled arch in the middle of main street in Nome. There is not a lot going on in Nome at any given time and this time of year is the exception. Every racer who finishes the race gets the same reception, which is everyone in town crowding into the finish chute to cheer them on and the city fire siren going off. The last racer in gets the Red Lantern Award which means that they finished dead last but didn't scratch.

the 2020 race had started and was fully underway when the pandemic lockdowns came into place. as far as social distancing goes, you really can't do much better than being isolated 100 miles into the middle of frozen nowhere but the checkpoints are itty bitty villages with no medical infrastructure and the finish was reportedly terrifying because instead of a crowd to cheer at the burled arch, it was just the siren going off in a ghost town.

there is no way I can tell this story that doesn't sound like I'm making it up as I go. The sign says no sniveling and they fucking mean it.

no really, click that link. here's the YouTube vid (non-graphic, after-the-fact interviews)

#from the far north #wolverine warbles #iditarod #dog mushing #alaska

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sinfullyrosey · 2 years

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“Realistic” Courting Rituals

GN!Reader X Various TWST Characters

This isn’t as smutty as my other works and was more of a straight forward, logical look at applying typical animal courting/mating rituals onto the TWST cast. A lot of people tend to write the beastmen and fae characters as animalistic, but rarely actually do the research into mating habits, so I thought I’d write up little headcanons or whatever.

Some of this comes across as rather silly ‘cause I stopped taking it quite as seriously midway into typing them up lol

All characters are 18+

Leona Kingscholar

Male lions will begin courtship by rubbing their head against the lioness’s head, spraying urine, and licking her genitals. He will also patiently follow around a lioness until she is ready to mate, where in which he’ll bite onto her neck to get a grip and mount her. Females are also very demandful and will become aggressive if a male isn’t mating with her enough. She’ll even attack him until he does.

Leona doesn’t have a pride full of females demanding attention from him, but he does have you which is a blessing for his lazy ass. Once he has an interest in you, he’ll start pursuing you by checking in on you, following you around to make sure that you’re safe (and to scare off any rivals), and will become more openly affectionate. Will definitely rub his head against you, maybe a bit too hard as he lets out a low rumble (not a purr, lions don’t purr, sorry). As time goes on he works up to licking and cuddles while napping.

Doesn’t spray urine ‘cause that’s unsanitary, but will give you articles of clothing and jewelry as a way to get his scent on you and ward off rivals. Is super patient and will wait until you give him the go ahead to the next step since it’s the lionesses that signal for mating to begin. I imagine the two of you were napping in his room with him nuzzling you and things just got heated. He won’t do anything unless you make it very clear you want him to dick you down.

Starts off with lapping at your genitals lazily until you’re ready to take him. Would probably prefer doggy style the first time since it allows for easier mounting, but won’t protest if you prefer a different position. Will latch onto your neck (specifically the back part) just on instinct to make sure you don’t wiggle around too much. There is a slim possibility he has barbs on his dick, but due to being humanoid (or maybe magic idk) they aren’t sharp and won’t completely wreck your insides. Definitely adds another unique layer of pleasure for you so congrats.

Will only mate as many times as you request ‘cause this is still Leona we’re talking about and he’s a lazy piece of shit. Find your inner lioness and demand another round or else his ass is grass.

Ruggie Bucchi

Hyena males have a variety of courtship behaviors meant to attract a female mate. Females are naturally more aggressive than males, so males tend to be submissive and may widen their legs to show their penis to let the female know he wishes to mate. Males will also “shadow” females and follow them around in order to get close to them, as females are extremely picky.

Okay, regardless of whether or not you’re a female, he’s going to be more submissive, unless you happen to be more submissive then him. In which case, he may adopt more dominant traits, but it’s gonna be weird for him. Will start following you around and copying you, like: If you eat, he eats. You’re napping under a tree, he’s napping under a tree. You’re studying for a big exam that week, he doesn’t have a big exam but will help you study anyways. Essentially becomes in tune with your schedule while still managing his own affairs somehow. Will also be more openly affectionate, yet will back off the moment he feels he’s overstepping. Female hyenas are very picky and the last thing he wants to do is lose his chance with you.

Will widen his legs more when he’s around you as a sign, but won’t outright say anything, even if others notice or point it out (it’s his way of flexing give him a break). Honestly, you could do almost anything to him and he’ll allow it ‘cause he doesn’t want to lose his chances with you. Like, you could grab his ears out of the blue and he’d just take it as a sign that he’s making progress. Like Leona, he won’t make his move until he knows for sure that’s what you want. Male hyenas aren’t allowed to mate unless the females allow it, so he needs you to basically outright say that, yes, he can fuck you and you won’t bite his head off. Feels truly blessed that the courtship went successfully and will be over the Moon if you want to go another round with him.

Jack Howl

Male and female wolves courtship is fairly neutral, with both snuggling, walking close together, mouthing each other’s muzzles, nose touching, and grooming. Males are very protective and will fend off rival males. Males and females get stuck together due to swelling in the male’s penis and contracting from the female’s walls, which can last 15-30 minutes.

Honestly one of the most “normal” in terms of wooing you. He becomes more physically affectionate and will want to spend more time with you. Quality time is key for him, so expect a lot of nuzzling against your neck and facial area, maybe a few licks here and there. He doesn’t have a muzzle per say, so he’ll substitute it with kisses, usually open mouthed ones. Out of everyone, the most likely to have multiple heated makeout sessions with you. A lot of touching and close contact, may even become overly protective of you to the point of warding off anyone he perceives as a rival (yes this includes Leona).

Will become more and more affectionate until you two finally mate. He’s a bit rough the first time around, making sure to thoroughly fuck you. May bite and scratch you but in a way that pleasures you. And yes, he does have a “knot,” but you two don’t get stuck like you originally believed because your walls don’t work like a female wolf beastmen’s so you’re fine. Is the king of aftercare and will go the extra mile checking you over, getting you hydrated, and napping with you.

Azul Ashengrotto

Male octopi have to be careful when courting and mating due to females cannibalizing them. Most courtship includes removing their penis/tentacle and presenting it to the female to take and use, though a male will also stretch out his still-attached penis and mate from afar as well. Typically, females pursue males and flash their beacon.

Put simply, he’s a little bitch when it comes to courting you and probably keeps his distance. He knows you won’t actually kill and eat him, but given his less than stellar first meet with you, he’s nervous. Probably won’t actively start pursuing you unless you gave him the sign to do so. What sign you may ask? Why, the beacon sign of course. This beacon is actually just a ring of Mostro beverage you got on around your mouth and laughed off while he stood there, flustered and trying to keep his hard on in check.

From that point onward he’d try to get close to you, while still keeping his distance. Most courting was in line with human customs at this point, so gift giving, quality time, acts of service, etc. But he could never work up the courage to try and bring up mating with you, too afraid. It’s morbid, but he probably did at one point consider just giving you his tentacle penis, too afraid to swallow his nerves and mate with you the practical way. Floyd encouraged this route while Jade managed to knock some sense into the idiot before he did anything rash.

Best bet is to have a moonlit dinner with him, get a few drinks in him to calm his nerves, and lead him into the nearest secluded room and start ravaging him. Might have a few instances where he looks about ready to bolt, but once he’s fully sheathed in you and you’re practically devouring his mouth, he’ll finally get the damn hint. Sex with his octoform won’t be until much later though, but don’t worry, he won’t unattach his dick when the time comes.

Floyd & Jade Leech

Female eels let male eels know they’re ready to mate by opening their jaws very wide, where in which the two will then wrap their bodies around each other and mate for hours at a time. Mating only occurs when the environment is warm enough and there’s plenty of food.

There is little to no courting, these two just go for it the moment you openly yawn in front of them on a particularly warm day at the lounge. All the requirements are met: The lounge is stocked with food, the weather is warm but not too hot, and you did just open your mouth wide like some needy whore right in front of them. Honestly, whether the both of them are present or it’s just one of them, there’s a good chance they will pull you into the nearest empty room and just start going at it. Unless you explicitly say otherwise, they’re down to fuck you the moment you open that pretty, little mouth of yours.

Note: The Leech twins know what yawning is, but if you repeatedly do so in front of them, they’re going to take that to mean you want some fuck. They’re currently on the menu and you just ordered a nice, hot serving of eel dick.

Will wrap themselves around you the best they can given their human forms, but would probably prefer to be in eel form since they’re more used to that form of mating. Yes, they can last up to hours and go multiple rounds. Buckle up ‘cause you’re in it for the long run babe.

Malleus Draconia

Dragons aren’t real, though they are usually portrayed as very possessive lovers who may court by giving jewels and gold. Some male lizard species have been known to scratch the back of females and lick her as a way to ask to mate. If she licks back, then he’ll proceed to mate with her. Many other lizard species also includes males showing off to females, pursuing them, head bobbing, and showing dominance.

Once Malleus actually realizes that his feelings are more than just simply platonic, he’ll begin courting you the ‘ol fashion way, dragon style. He becomes protective over you, will make sure nobody else is courting you and will make it clear that he is the one pursuing you. Will glare and snarl at anyone who looks at you for too long or attempts to woo you. Will show off to you, either through his magic abilities, knowledge on certain subjects, or even strength. Shows dominance by outmatching everyone else at something, which isn’t that hard for the much older and experienced fae. Might bob his head at you, but will stop after you questioned him about it and he got embarrassed over the silly act.

Instead, will start to give you gifts of precious gemstones, gold jewelry, and other valuables, ones that have meaning to them. Like, he’ll usually give you emeralds or dragon-shaped jewelry, or will give you your personal favorite gemstone. Once things start to really hit off and he’s alone with you, will go for it and gently scratch your back, followed by a light lick. Honestly, Lilia or somebody better inform you the meaning of this beforehand because if you don’t reciprocate with a lick of your own, he’ll take it as a rejection and become disheartened. But if you do reciprocate, then you’re in for a long, rough night ‘cause this dude’s dick ain’t human and his goal is to properly ravish you. You will be sore and covered in bitemarks the next day.

Sebek Zigvolt

Crocodile males will secure an area for mating, scaring off any rivals, before beginning the official courtship. The males will then begin to rub their snout along or on top of the female’s head and continue to do so until both are rubbing against each other or “dancing” together. Some vocalizations and bubble blowing in the water may occur as well.

How you managed to catch Sebek’s eyes despite him only having eyes for Malleus is not exactly known, but you did. Congrats, you now have an overzealous manbaby who’s in denial of his feelings and is trying his best to avoid you, only to end up following you when he’s not with Malleus. He wouldn’t even realize it at first, but he acts protective around you and will keep any rivals away. The way he treats you directly doesn’t change much outside of him (trying) to be nicer and not insult you quite as much (as per Lilia’s advice). It isn’t until he starts to notice you reciprocate his efforts that he begins to secure an area for you two (most likely his bedroom or some unused room at his dorm).

When it comes times for the deed and he leads you to the room, he becomes much more affectionate and starts to rub his face and mouth along your head and neck area, breathing in your scent. He’s embarrassed by the action, but can’t help it as it comes almost natural to him. Once you start returning the gesture, he’ll take it as the sign to go ahead and he’ll start creating a deep rumbling sound while fucking you. Is a mix of rough and gentle, going from nipping you to outright biting.

Lilia Vanrouge

Fruit bat males will find a female to roost with and spend extensive amount of time grooming the female. They’ll also vigorously lick the female’s nether regions, possibly to either arouse her or to remove rival sperm.

Similar to the Tweels in that he kind of just goes for it. Dude’s old and has been around the block enough to have confidence that he could just go right into courting you and eventually win you over. Will start spending more time with you, sharing quality time and just hanging out. Will wait until he’s reached a point in the relationship that you’re comfortable around him and now he can start the actual process of courting for mating.

Will invite you over for tea, which becomes rather apparent wasn’t the actual reason as he begins to groom you in the form of brushing your hair and preening your overall appearance. Will chat with you, buttering you up and complimenting you throughout. Will forgo the brush in place of his fingers and he’ll start to nuzzle and kiss your neck. This can take up to hours before it actually reaches the bedroom. When you actually get to the bedroom, prepare for another hour or so of him just going down on you, licking and nipping your lower region until your orgasming again and again and again. Better buckle up because this bat fae’s mating is a day-long experience.

Che’nya

Male cats will mount the female, usually grabbing the back of her neck with his mouth to keep her from pulling away. There aren’t any real courting habits, males just mate females if they reciprocate. Sometimes males will gather around a female and take turns mounting and mating her. Male genitalia have sharp barbs on them, believed to stimulate the female and scrape out rival sperm.

I’m gonna be honest and say I almost forgot Che’nya and don’t have much to say on him. The most normal of the beastman, even more so compared to Jack. If he did court you, then it probably just includes him sneaking into NRC to flirt and mess with you. Will randomly appear and peck you on your face, neck, or mouth. I can also imagine him being unbothered by any of the others being interested in you, like, as long as he gets his own turn with you, he’s fine with it. When you two actually do it, he’ll mount you from the back and bite the back of your neck (much like Leona though gentler). And also like Leona, his dick barbs aren’t sharp and won’t hurt, stimulating you more. Will maybe cuddle and purr with you afterwards, unless you two get caught or something. In which case, he’s pecking you on the lips and disappearing with a laugh in the air.

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yandereforme · 1 year

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TW mental health issues, neglect, depression, attempted assault, light yandereness, generally a lot of angst

I read a lot of neglected reader, with the wayne family, and how they become Yandere for you after an incident, varying between posts. This is my take on it.

You arrived at Wayne Manor about a month after Damien did. Your mother had just died, and even though you knew your father and his existed, you had never met them. (Insert neglect)

The thing is, you really tried to get to know them in the beginning. Even though you were grieving, and you’re so sad and afraid, you still tried to get to know them. You baked with Alfred when you could and tried to strike up conversations at the dinner table, or whenever you saw them in the halls. However, after a few months of trying, and not getting any response back, you started giving up.

You started having days where you wouldn’t even leave your room. You would just stay in there laying on your bed. Afterward, you always noticed they never noticed you were gone, which only made things worse. You really missed your mother, and nothing seemed OK anymore.

The thing that broke you was about two months after you arrived, it was your birthday, and no one noticed. No one said anything to you and no one seems to care. You decided at that point you were just done. You’re done trying to be a part of a family that didn’t want you. You stayed by yourself and pretended you were fine with that.

When you started school, you stayed to yourself. You interact with many people and generally most people forgot you existed. Damian didn’t even see you often, and he forgot about you sometimes too. Until one day, when a classmate of yours grabbed you in front of him, trying to force you to go with him. Damien grew angry.

He fought the guy off, and the three of you were taken to the principals office and the boys were given detention. However, later, when you got home, he asked you why you didn’t fight back against the guy. You looked him in the eyes, a blank expression on your face, and he realized that he never really seen you smile since that first month.

“Why do you care?”

That was the only response you gave him before going to bed, but it was something he focused intently on. He analyzed your actions since arriving for days, and though he wouldn’t admit it, he became fond of you. He started walking you to your classes, memorizing your schedule, placing trackers on you and bring food up to you on the nights where you didn’t go to dinner. He obsesses over you, and wants you to smile again, like you did in the beginning with him. He hates when those plebeians you go to school with talk to you, and when his idiotic brothers pull him away from you. Didn’t they see you needed a protector?

You didn’t understand why you suddenly had a shadow everywhere you went. Ever since that boy tried to hurt you, Damian was following you everywhere, and was weirdly attentive. He was giving you snacks when you wouldn’t eat whole meals, though you didn’t know how he knew what you liked. Whenever your classmates tried to talk to you(which was rare) Damian would glare them into submission.

Despite how weirded out you were, you wouldn’t deny that a small part of you liked the attention. This was the attention you had so desperately craved when you first arrived. The depressive haze lifted slightly as Damian stayed, and you found yourself less and less annoyed by him following you.

If you guys like this, I will make more parts about the rest of the brothers. Request which brothers you want to hear from next in the comments (Bruce is going to be last).

#yandere #yandere prompt #gender neautral reader #yandere batfam x reader #non binary darling #yandere gotham #mental disorder #yandere batfamily #batfamily x neglected reader #yandere damian wayne

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sethsclearwater · 1 year

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request: “Hi!!! I love all of your work!!! Feel free to ignore but could I request a "reader finds out she's pregnant and she thinks that Paul's gonna be mad so she hides it"? I love the angst that ends with loving, passionate smut or just super sweet fluff at the end but only you know how Paul would react. Again, I LOVE your work, thanks for all you do!!!”

warnings: pregnancy???, smut, breeding kink-ish but reader is already pregnant, paul being… paul

notes: before any of you come for me - i firmly believe that paul would absolutely have an awful reason to reader being pregnant IF she wasn’t his imprint. i think the imprint bond would make it very difficult for him to be mad at reader for anything.

…

you and paul had been together for almost 3 years now. paul had imprinted on you during your senior year of high school and at first, you wouldn’t give him the time of day. it took him nearly 9 months to finally win you over and go on a date with him.

and obviously dating him wasn’t the easiest thing in the world due to his at times very unruly temper but the imprintee bond clearly affected you too and you rarely left his side after you had started dating. though, since word got out to the pack that bella was pregnant, you two had been separated more often than before.

about a week after bella’s pregnancy news broke, you found yourself sitting on the lid of your toilet seat in quite literally the exact situation.

you gripped the pregnancy test in your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stared at the plus sign. you weren’t sure how this happened, you were on the pill and took it daily but you and paul had slipped up here and there by letting him finish in you. you never in a million years thought this would’ve happened.

you knew paul didn’t want kids. he made it very clear to you on multiple different occasions and you knew it was because he was terrified of becoming his father. you never argued with him about it even though being a mother was something you’ve always wanted, understanding where he was coming from but now that clearly came to bite you in the ass.

with paul out on patrol dealing with his protest against bella’s pregnancy, you went into a full-blown panic mode. you grabbed your phone, immediately looking up the nearest abortion clinic, and scheduled an appointment for the following week on their website.

you were pacing around the apartment, trying to figure out what to do until your phone lit up with a text from paul letting you know that he was on his way back from patrol and would see you soon.

you whimpered, heading back into the bathroom and throwing the pregnancy test out before turning on the shower to hopefully buy you some time and make you look less distraught.

it didn’t take long for paul to get home, he pretty quickly joined you in the bathroom after he realized you forgot to lock the door, sitting on the lid of the toilet while he told you about everything that was going on with bella and her supposed vampire baby.

you were washing your hair, thanking god paul couldn’t see you as you broke down crying when he told you they were planning on killing the baby. you thought you were being quiet until you let out a loud sob, legs shaky as you sat down on the floor of the shower and curled your legs up to your chest.

paul quickly pulled the curtain back, “what’s wrong?” he asked worriedly, immediately getting in the shower with you and pulling you into his lap, his clothes getting soaked by the warm water streaming down.

“hey, hey look at me-” paul cooed, curling his hand free under your chin to force you to look up at him. you shook your head, pressing your hands to his chest in a weak attempt to push yourself away from him.

he just shook his head, tightening his grip on your hip and releasing your jaw to pull you closer to his chest, “what’s going on?” he asked softly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head as he waited for you to calm yourself down.

you took in a shaky breath, shaking your head as you let out another loud whimper, “i can’t tell you.” you explained weakly, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“what do you mean you can’t tell me? princess,” paul sighed, pressing his lips to the crown of your head again, “i can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” he explained, rocking you from side to side as you continued crying into his chest.

you tightened your fist on the thin fabric of his t-shirt, shaking your head again as he cupped his hand under your jaw, gently forcing you to look up at him, “hey,” he cooed, thumb rubbing circles on your jaw as he watched your worriedly.

“just tell me what happened and you’ll feel way better princess, i promise.” he cooed softly as tears continued to run down your cheeks, you hiccuped from the tears, bottom lip quivering as you shook your head again.

“you’ll hate me.” you whispered hoarsely, and he shook his head.

“princess,” paul sighed, “i couldn’t hate you if i tried. please tell me what’s going on.” you whimpered, taking a deep breath as you took his hand and pressed it to your lower abdomen.

paul looked from you, to your abdomen, and then back up to you again. you let out a loud sob, hiccuping again, “i’m so sorry i don’t know what happened.” you explained weakly, “i already booked an appointment at the clinic and i’ll deal with it but i just-” you paused as another sob racked through your body and you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into the soaked fabric of his t-shirt as you sobbed.

it took paul a moment before you felt his arms slide up to wrap around you, holding you close to his chest, “shhhhh…” he cooed, pressing his lips to your hairline, “how far along are you?” he asked softly, gently rubbing his hands up and down your naked figure.

“i don’t know,” you whimpered, peeking up at him, “maybe a month? i’m sorry-” you started but he slid his hand under your jaw and pressed his lips to yours, stunning you for a moment.

after a moment he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, “i want you to have him… or her - fuck - i’m so sorry princess” paul explained and you whimpered, sliding your hands up his chest to cup his face in your hands.

“you’re not angry?” you asked softly, and he shook his head, gently brushing the tears off your cheeks with his thumb.

“no,” paul sighed softly, “of course i’m not angry with you princess. how could i be mad at you for being pregnant?” he reassured, looking down to where both of your hands rested over your naked abdomen and let out a soft sigh.

“you can barely tell yet,” he started, sliding his other hand down from your jaw to the small of your back, “i was wondering why you’ve been so sensitive lately.”

“sensitive?” you asked softly, letting out a giggle as you sniffled, using the back of your hands to brush your tears away.

“physically i mean,” paul quickly explained, looking back up at you before adding, “sorry, didn’t mean that you’re emotional.”

you giggled again, “i’m a hot mess right now paul, i think it’s fine to call me emotional.” you sniffled, wiping away the tears that continued to fall down your cheeks.

the corner of his lip curled into a small smile, “i’m sorry, your clothes are all soaked now.” you murmured after a moment and he shook his head, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck to pull you in for a soft kiss.

“the clothes will be fine. why don’t we use the tub so you can relax?” he suggested and you nodded, both of you taking a deep breath together before he helped you up, turning off the shower and helping you sit down on the counter as he started the faucet on the tub.

“you like those bath bomb things right? wait can you use those now? i don’t know what pregnant people…” he trailed off and you giggled again, sniffling before responding.

“yes i can still use the bath bombs paul.” you answered softly, smiling up at him sheepishly and he chuckled, tossing one in the bath before peeling his soaked shift off and tossing it into the hamper.

you watched as he undid the zipper on his shorts, staring a little longer than you probably should’ve and paul quickly caught onto it, “sorry,” you murmured, cheeks heating up as you looked away from him, “these stupid hormones are messing with my head.”

you felt his pointer finger lifting your chin up so you could look at him as he used his other hand to part your thighs so he could step in between them, “nothing to be sorry about princess.” paul cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, gently gnawing on the skin and he released your chin, brushing your hair behind your ears, “good to go in the bath?” he asked softly and you nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck so he could lift you up.

he stepped into the tub, lowing the both of you down into the warm water so you could straddle his lap. you let out a soft sigh as the pink warm water encompassed your body the smell of lavender from the bathbomb immediately relaxing you into paul. you rested your cheek against his shoulder as he rubbed his hand up and down your back, committed to calming yourself down.

“i meant what i said earlier,” paul started after a moment and you hummed softly, not sure what he meant before he continued, “about the baby i mean.” he clarified, “i want you to keep him.”

you pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, “you want a baby?” you asked, threading your fingers through his hair.

“with you.” paul responded before clarifying, “i want a baby with you.” the corner of your lip curled into a smile at that, using your free hand to take his hand and press it to your abdomen, humming softly as he rubbed small circles against your skin.

“do you want to keep him?” paul asked softly, almost sounding… concerned which was unusual for him. you pressed another kiss to his shoulder before lifting your head up to look at him.

“of course i do,” you said softly before adding, “you know i want a baby… i just thought that you wouldn’t.” you murmured, looking up at paul anxiously as he let out a soft sigh of relief, his hand giving your hip a soft squeeze.

“i’m sorry i made you think that,” paul pressed another gentle kiss to your hairline, “i do want you to have him.” you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, trying to hide the wave of tears that rolled down your cheeks at his comment.

he cupped your jaw with his hand, “why are you crying?” he asked softly, thumb brushing the tears away as you shook your head.

“‘m sorry it’s just these stupid hormones.” you murmured again, letting out a soft giggle as you tried to compose yourself and paul smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

you melted into him, quickly knotting your fingers into his hair as you pulled him closer to you. the water splashed a bit as you shifted to press yourself completely against him, your hips subconsciously rolling down in an attempt to create some friction.

paul pulled away for a moment to allow you to catch your breath, resting his forehead against yours, “can we…” you trailed off shyly.

he smiled, nodding as he ran his free hand over your thigh and inbetween your legs, “you tell me if it’s too much, okay? i don’t wanna stress you out.” he asked and you nodded.

the gentleness was so unlike him, something you’d only seen on a few occasions so having him touch you like this was intimate. he grazed his finger of your clit, eliciting a loud whimper out of you.

you whined, grinding your hips down against his finger and he chuckled, “sensitive little thing.” he murmured under his breath, pressing down on your clit to give you the friction you were craving.

“paul please-” you whimpered and normally he would’ve reprimanded you for not using your words but tonight he was committed to staying as gentle with you as possible. he nodded, dipping a finger into your heat as his thumb continued to rub gentle circles against your clit.

you mewled in his lap, tightening your fingers in his hair as he added a second finger, gently scissoring his fingers to stretch you out for him. he felt your breathing hitch as your walls tightened around him quicker than usual, “you gonna cum on my fingers princess?” he asked softly, using his free hand to rest against the small of your back and help stabilize you.

you nodded, letting out a loud whimper, “can i?” you asked breathlessly, grinding your hips down onto his fingers as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy.

he nodded, “go ahead then, cum on my fingers princess.” he cooed, watching in awe as you quickly met your orgasm with his approval, throwing your head back as a soft moan left your lips and your velvet walls throbbed around his fingers.

he allowed you to ride his fingers for a few more moments as you rode out your high before you leaned forward, relaxing your grip on his hair to wrap yourself around him, resting your head on his shoulder. he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, rubbing his free hand up and down your back as he pulled his fingers out of you, cooing to you as you he whimpered at the emptiness.

“gonna fill you up in a second princess.” paul reassured, pumping his length in his hand and helping lift your hips up with his other hand.

you moaned softly when you felt the tip of his length press against your entrance, paul gently pulled your hips down so you sank onto his length, releasing your hip when he was fully seated inside of you so he could give you a moment to adjust to his size.

“fuck,” he groaned as he felt your walls flutter around him, “you have no idea how good you feel princess.” paul leaned back against the tub and cupped your breasts with his hands, rolling your nipples between his fingers. you meweled at the heightened pleasure, tightening your grip on his shoulders as he continued to play with your nipples while he waited for you to adjusto him.

you whimpered after a moment, pressing a kiss to the crook of his neck and ground your hips down against his letting him know you wanted him to move. normally you would’ve been reprimanded for not using your words but it seemed like paul was quite enjoying being softer with you tonight as he gripped your hips, and dragged you up and down his cock.

you sat up, grabbing his biceps to steady yourself as he continued to bounce you on his cock. “paul-” you groaned loudly, beginning to assist him with your movements as you rolled your hips down.

paul threw his head back at that movement, “fuck-” paul groaned, “you feel so fucking amazing.”

you mewled at his praise, bouncing up and down on his cock as you chased your second orgasm of the night, “atta girl,” paul encouraged, “my cock making you feel good?”

the slew of praise had you teetering on the edge of your second orgasm, you nodded, whimpering out an, “mhm,” as your eyes watered with tears as you tried not to cum on him right then and there, “can i cum on you? please-” you whined, desperate to come undone on your boyfriend.

“go ahead then, i’m right behind you,” paul encouraged, his grip tightening on your hips as he started fucking you on his cock at a pace that was more pleasurable for the both of you, “wanna see you make a mess on my cock.”

his encouragement was all you needed to cum on him, head falling back as you let out a loud moan, gripping him like a vice and sending him over the edge right after you. paul let out a low groan, pulling you down as far as you could go on his length as he came, releasing your hips to pull you closer to him as the two of you rode out your orgasms.

paul was the first to come back down from his high, pressing soft kisses to your hair as you came back to reality. “deep breaths princess,” paul cooed, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

you nodded, slowly sitting back up as you let out a yawn, “you tired?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair to stroke your scalp.

“mhm,” you murmured, “can you stay with me tonight?” you asked softly, worried he’d have to leave for patrol again.

“obviously i’m staying with you tonight.” he reassured, “c’mon.” he cooed, helping you wrap yourself around him so he could pick the both of you up and get out of the tub.

you whimpered as he set you down on the counter and pulled himself out of you, quickly grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you and worked at drying you off. once he was satisfied that you were dry enough, he quickly dried himself off and threw on a pair of boxers and sweatpants before helping you into your pajamas.

he picked you up again, walking you into your shared bedroom and lying you down on the bed before getting under the covers with you, “you’re gonna look so pretty with that pregnant belly,” paul mused as he pulled you into a spooning position so he could rest his hand on your abdomen.

you giggled softly, “you think?” you murmured, peeking over your shoulder at him and he nodded, “absolutely positive.” he reassured, “now get some sleep, you need it.”

you smiled, wrapping his other arm around you so you were caged in his grip before drifting off.

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wardenparker · 9 months

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The King's Queen - chapter 1

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 8.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Illness, cancer. Summary: Javi is given some unexpected and unwelcome news from his father - meanwhile you receive the phone call that you have been waiting for for your entire life. Notes: As always, we do our best to infuse some Spanish into the dialogue when our stories call for it, but neither Keri nor I are fluent by any means. If you see an error let us know, but kindness counts!

The day began, as so many do, with a knock on the door. The palace had stirred to life hours ago, bustling staff all going about their business and, breakfast served and cleared away again, appointments kept, and meetings held. Business, as they say, booms this morning at Castel del Ocaso. The only person not yet risen, it seems, is the crowned prince.

And so his day begins with a knock. A gentle one. There is no need to jar the man into reality cruelly. His valet has a tray with his breakfast so that the kitchen could move on with their duties for the day, and an urgent message from the prince's father. Which is, if one was to ask the valet, the only reason for waking the prince at what is already a late hour. When he stirs at the opening of the windows, the valet clears his throat and sets the tray down on the broad bedside table. “There is a message this morning, your Highness.” The valet tells the bleary-eyed prince quietly. “His Majesty would like to see you in his chambers after you are dressed.”

Groaning, Javi looks over at the clock, well aware that the staff knew that he was to sleep in. It’s a rare night that he is up until the early morning hours and today had been blocked out of his schedule as a recovery day. “What is going on?”

“I only know that your father has asked for you.” Sometimes the king’s staff would impart more details or relay why his Majesty needed a particular thing or requested a particular presence, but this was not one of those times. Indicating the tray laden with croissants, marmalade, yoghurt, and fresh fruit alongside a strong cortado, the prince’s valet offers an apologetic smile. “Would you prefer to take breakfast before dressing?”

“No—” Javi sits up and groans, closing his eyes again at the throbbing in his skull. “Yes.”

The man says nothing at first, but hides a private smile as he hands the prince his coffee before going to his closet to choose clothing for the day. “Was your evening enjoyable, sire?” He asks, always preferring to have the temperature - so to speak - of the royal family each day. There had been shouting from the king’s chambers this morning.

“Too much so.” Javi is desperately grateful for the coffee and he takes a sip with a sigh before reaching for his bottle of aspirin from the bedside table. He had anticipated celebrating too hard and wanted to be prepared. “I am getting too old for all night parties.”

“Then we will simply begin celebrations earlier in the day, I expect.” The prince’s birthday is always a series of extravagances, and this year had been no exception.

“Yes.” Hissing, Javi gingerly crawls out of the bed. “I will shower first.”

“Very good, your Highness.” With a nod, the valet lays out clothes for the day and is gone again, leaving the prince to ready himself to see his father.

******

It takes Javi an hour to shower, dress and make his way to his father’s quarters, frowning slightly as he knocks on the door at the raised voices inside.

“¿Quién es esto?” The king’s deep voice grumbles from inside, obviously irritable. When the doors open a moment later to admit the new arrival, the king is fairly growling and ousts the others from the room. The last to leave is the doctor, sparing a last glance at the king before excusing him to say good morning to the prince as he retreats.

“Javier.” Gruff as he can be, the bedraggling king sighs and waves his son inside. “Come in.”

“You wished to see me?” There is a tenuous relationship between the king and his only son but Javi loves the gruffer man, even if he does not always understand him.

“I wish to speak with you.” He glances at the footman standing near the door. “Alone.” As soon as his son steps inside the door is shut securely behind him and the king smothers a deeper sigh. Standing is quite painful this morning, but since lying down and sitting are, too, he does not move yet. “I sent for the doctor last week. About the pain in my stomach.” Which no one, save extremely close family members, knows about. “He came back to me with answers this morning.”

“Sí?” Javi strides closer to his father, a worried frown creasing his brow. It is not good news if his father is asking to speak to him privately. It is rare that at least his cousin Lucas is not in attendance. Fear and dread coils in his own stomach and the breakfast he had threatens to make a reappearance.

There is no other way to do this, for a man of King Miguel’s temperament, than to do as the Americans say and rip the Band-Aid off. “Javier,” he motions for his son to come closer, not wanting to have to raise his voice and be heard by someone passing in the hall of the drafty medieval palace. “It is cancer.” Which was his worst fear. His fear as a ruler and his fear as the father of a son he is not certain is ready to take his place. “It came on quickly, and spread just as fast.” He tries to hide a wince as best he can, pressing a hand over his aching side as though the disease can hear him speak of it. Laying down may not be any less painful than standing, but it does relieve a bit of pressure, so he lies down again gingerly. “They have given me a few months at most.”

“No.” Javi shakes his head and gives a nervous chuckle. His father is king. He is invincible, always seeming so large to Javi, even now. “No, they are wrong. They have to be wrong.” He blinks, fighting the tears that would be ‘unbecoming’ a future ruler.

“It is always possible for doctors to be wrong.” He would be a fool and a liar to claim otherwise, but Miguel shakes his head. “However, the pain I feel is not a lie. And we must act as though they are correct, in case they are.” He sighs again, clearing his throat to hide pain from his face. Despite the characterization of their relationship as adversarial by the European press at points in Javier’s life, Miguel truly does want the best for his son. It is why he has done what he has done. Made the arrangements that he has made. “Thirty-five is a good age for a king, Javier. Old enough to have some sense but young enough to make the people feel the invigoration of youth.”

The age-old argument of not wanting to be king doesn’t even slip out of his mouth like it normally would. He can’t. Not when his father is lying in a bed looking much older than he had just the day before. Javi realizes how much pain the older man has been hiding from the world. “Sí.” Javi nods. “You have been a good king papá, the people will miss your guidance.”

Surprised at the lack of protest from his only child, the king pats the mattress beside him, hoping for this conversation to go smoothly. He knows Javier would not choose this life if he had the option - but there is no option. Second in line to the throne is his odious nephew Lucas and if that remained his only option, he would sooner find a way to pass the throne directly to Lucas’s new wife. Gabriela may not have royal blood but at least she has a decent mind behind that lovely face. “Steps will have to be taken, mijo. I will have to abdicate. You will have your coronation. And you will also need a queen.”

Javi frowns sadly, aware that the one woman he had wanted his for queen was now married to his cousin. “You took away my queen when you allowed Lucas to marry her.” He reminds his father bitterly. The woman who he loved had just married two years prior and Lucas was always taunting him that she will be pregnant soon.

“When I told you that you could not marry Gabriela, it was not to be cruel or obtuse.” If he had ever hoped that his son could forgive him over that refusal, apparently the hope was in vain. “A bride was selected for you long ago, mijo. So that you would not have to bear the burden of choice yourself.” He looks to his son with interest, hoping this will not begin a shouting match. “It was your mamá’s dying wish that I secure your future. And it is mine that you honour the promises we have made.”

Javi swears he chokes on air. Gasping and stuttering for a moment, eyes widening in shock. “An arranged marriage?” He huffs, swearing if it were anyone but his father it would be a joke. “No. No.” He shakes his head. “My future has been set from the day I drew breath but now my choice of a wife is taken from me?”

“Choosing a queen is more complex than choosing a wife.” There is the objection Miguel anticipated, even if he must admit to being disappointed by it. “The monarchy’s survival means more than simply whose figure you like the most in an evening gown.”

“My queen.” Javi stresses. “So it should be my choice.” He shakes his head. “I have done what you asked but I want to love the person I take as my queen.”

“How do you know you will not love the girl who has been chosen?” The pain of an arrangement is not exactly unknown to the king. After all, his own match was arranged and so was his father’s. Every crowned prince in their family has had their wife chosen from eligible candidates on their behalf - it was perhaps only that Javier’s match was chosen when he was a bit younger than most.

“How do you know I will?” Javi imagines a woman steeped in tradition and molded by pomp and ceremony. Someone who is rigid, only caring about the legacy she leaves behind. “Just because you came to love mamá doesn’t mean the woman you have chosen to be queen is right for me. Or were you only thinking of the crown?” He asks bitterly.

“I was thinking of finding you a partner.” He admits, knowing that his son’s disgust with the idea will not do well if it lasts. “Someone to help you. To stand beside you and to be your support as you find your footing as king.” The tax of sitting up is too much on an injured body and the king lays his head back down again to continue speaking. “Good breeding is done differently in America, but her family is wealthy and prominent, and the photographs I have seen make her out to be quite beautiful.” When he earns a scoff in return, Miguel sighs. “There is a contract in place, Javier. It is legally binding. And— and she has already been sent for. So there is no use fighting with me about it.”

“You arranged a marriage with an American?” The surprise and wistfulness of the statement catches him off guard, even as he shuffles closer to his ailing father. Miguel Gutierrez has never claimed to understand Javi’s affection with America or American Cinema, although they have shared an affinity for Nick Cage. He reaches out and takes his father’s hand, knowing he won’t fight his papá in his last days. “I hope you have chosen well.” He murmurs softly, wondering what this woman is like. His future queen.

“Her mother was friends with your mother at university.” His son’s affection for American pop culture was something he had attributed to his late wife’s own affection that she gained at university. He never understood it for the life of him, but it made her happy to share it with their young son, so he let it pass. “She will be here tomorrow, provided that she is able to travel quickly. The flight from New York is not too tiresome.”

“Tomorrow? So soon?” Javi shakes his head, reeling from the changes that are happening so quickly. “When— when do I have to marry her?” He asks quietly.

“Before the year is out.” The terms of the agreement with the Senator over the marriage of their children was exacting, to say the least. “Seven months is ample time to know her before you walk down the aisle, Javier. But it is more time than I have. So if you wish me to be present when you wed, it must be sooner.”

Javi closes his eyes, wanting to scream and cry and refuse his father. He cannot. He cannot let down the king, the man who has intimidated him and been his idol for his entire life. “We will be married in two months.” He decides, his voice flat. Certainly not happy about the circumstances, but he wants his father at his wedding, he will already miss his mother. “We will get to know each other later.”

Again it’s surprise that crosses the king’s expression first, but a lifetime of schooling his emotions away means it is gone in the blink of an eye. “Your mother and I tried to do what we thought would be best for you,” he tells his son, seeing the frown that forms on Javier’s lips. “This is the daughter of her most precious friend.” Knowing his penchant for the creative, and trying to provide him with a happy distraction, Miguel reaches and pats his son’s arm. “Would you like to choose the suite she will stay in until the wedding?”

The pout that he hadn’t quite ever grown out of nearly comes to the surface. Instead he just nods, not really caring where the American woman who would be his queen would stay but he knows his father is trying. “I will make sure she is afforded every comfort the palace can offer her.” He tells his father, noticing how tired the old man is. “You should rest.” He urges, covering his father’s surprisingly cold hand with his warmer one.

“Not a word to the staff, mijo.” The king warns, though he does lay back again on his pillows. “Only my private secretary knows who she truly is to you. The rest of the staff are preparing for a close friend.”

“They will figure it out when we have a royal wedding in two months.” Javi snorts, reaching out to cover his father up. “Rest.” He urges softly, his heart breaking but he can’t let the king see that. “I will make sure you are not embarrassed.”

“Javier.” It will be the last thing he says in the subject for now, but he does wish to say one last thing before his son leaves the room. “Try to keep an open mind. An arranged marriage is not the worst fate in the world.”

Instead of answering him, Javi just nods, standing quickly and swallowing. “Get some rest, papá.” He murmurs softly, “I have a guest to prepare for.”

******

There is something to be said for a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately, those things cannot be said for you at the moment. Curled up in the apartment you share with your brother, watching a late-night movie with a bottle of wine and a seemingly bottomless bowl of popcorn, you know you ought to be sleeping before your father’s re-election fundraiser tomorrow but you just can’t seem to quiet your mind. Today - yesterday in Mallorca - was his birthday. Another year gone by and another year closer to the impending details of the contract that has dictated your entire life.

You wonder how he celebrated. What sort of party he had, if any. If birthday cake is the same in the Balearic Islands as it is here. The internet doesn’t really have answers to these questions and you never had the courage to ask your mother for details of her lost friend’s life. You should have. But you didn’t.

The things you know about Prince Javier are finite, and you have studied them for decades. Which should be proven by the fact that you’re up late tonight watching National Treasure for the umpteenth time. When your cell phone rings halfway through the film, you mute the television and pick it up immediately. No one calls in the middle of the night unless it’s an emergency.

Private. Mallorca reads the caller ID. “Oh shit…” You murmur to yourself before sitting up straight on the couch and sliding your thumb across the screen to accept the call.

“Hello?”

Your name is spoken in a clear, Spanish accent, “Please hold for the King of the Balearic Islands, His Majesty, King Miguel.” The private secretary of the king announces him before muting the phone so she can pass it to the king.

“Uh—” Dumbstruck, you nearly spill your wine trying to set it down on the coffee table as though it were a video call or the king himself were right in front of you. He has only called you twice before - when you turned eighteen and then when you graduated college - and the last was several years ago. It sort of feels like suffocating, honestly, waiting for him to pick up the line, but you manage to breathe evenly until you hear a voice on the other end again.

“Hello?” Miguel says your name and waits for you to acknowledge him.

“Good morning, your Majesty.” Glancing at the clock, you quickly calculate it to be half past seven in Mallorca. “To what do I owe the honor of this call?”

Miguel takes a moment, composing himself after another brief flare of pain. “I hope you are doing well.” He offers. “The time has come for you to join the royal family in Mallorca. How soon can you be here if we send the jet?”

The time has come. The words seem to drown you, swallowing you up in duty and anticipation. “I will need a day to pack my things,” you tell him as politely as you can, hoping that you don’t sound as scared as you feel. The anticipation of an abrupt call like this one is why nothing in your life truly belongs to you - your apartment, your car, and all of your bills are under your father’s name so he can sell everything after you are called away to fulfill your duty. You’ll have to quit your job with no notice, but that’s a separate issue. “But one day should be sufficient.” Just one day to pack up your whole life.

“I shall have the jet sent first thing in the morning. It will be a direct flight so it should not be too long.” Miguel keeps his voice as steady as he can manage it. “My son will be informed of your impending arrival as soon as we disconnect.”

“As your Majesty sees fit.” It’s an odd thing, to speak to the man who holds an iron fist on your future, but you’ve grown up your entire life knowing that one day this would happen. To be honest you’re surprised it has taken so long.

“We will speak again soon.” Miguel promises, disconnecting the phone and then shouting for the doctor to come back into the room. The pain is worse and he needs him to manage it. There is another; more difficult conversation ahead with his son.

You exhale deeply, staring at your phone as the disconnecting line beeps and goes blank, bringing back your home screen with the background photo of the last beach that you went to with friends from college. Everyone is spread out over the blankets with picnic baskets and umbrellas while they laugh in the summer sun. It had been an amazing time – and now as you look at it you wonder if you'll ever be able to have days like that again. If your freedom, such as it ever was, has just been plucked away with one phone call. Still, despite the time, you have a call of your own to make. Opening your contacts, you select the entry for your father and stepmother's landline and hope that the ringing doesn't wake up your little sister. The preteen is a nightmare if she doesn't get enough sleep, and you don't blame her one bit.

The call is picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” The austere voice of your father comes down the line. “What is going on?” He knows you don’t call at late hours unless it is an emergency. “What do you need?”

"I need to come by the house tomorrow and pick up my trunks." Although you can feel your voice waver, you hope your father is too disoriented from being woken up to hear it. He raised you to be strong and to take on responsibility headfirst. "And I can't come to the fundraiser tomorrow." Deep breath, you remind yourself. "I've finally been summoned."

Silence fills the air between you for a good thirty seconds before the senator answers. “That is very good. It is past time.” The bedsheets rustle and he pulls the phone away from his ear to murmur to his wife. “We will draft a press release as soon as you are in Mallorca.”

"I only have one day to pack." Which means, you know yourself well enough to realize, that you'll be starting immediately. There's no way you'll be able to sleep. "So I was thinking I could drive out to Scarsdale to have breakfast with you and come home with the trunks to make sure I have enough time. Is that okay?"

Sighing, your father mentally files through his schedule. “That will be fine, I have a meeting at 9:30 though.”

"Okay. I'll be punctual." It never would have crossed your mind to be anything else. Not with the way your family operates. Scheduling is everything when your father is a senator. "I'm sorry to wake you, but I thought it was important for you to know right away."

“I appreciate the call.” Your father sighs softly and there’s another small pause. “Go on and start working on your packing list, I know you want to get organized.”

"There's a lot to do." That may be an understatement, but you're nodding as though he were standing in front of you. "I'll see you in a few hours for breakfast."

“See you then sweetheart.” The phone disconnects and your father sighs again before he climbs out of the bed. He will need to draft a press release and start working on the PR for his campaign. This announcement couldn’t come at a better time for him, and he intends to use it to his advantage. Perhaps it might even put him in the running for President.

******

It took every second of the time that you had to get things ready to leave even with your brother’s help, but in the end you drove to the private airstrip at JFK airport with an SUV full of your things and left behind an apartment that barely had a single trace of you left in it. What little you have left behind would be kept by your brother, sold, or saved for your half-sister depending on what you father saw fit.

The crew of the jet was very kind in loading your things on board and seemed to expect you to have much more, but you had kept things contained for exactly this purpose. At any point in your life you would be expected to pick up and move your entire existence across an ocean, so you had kept things contained.

The eight-hour flight would put you in Palma, Mallorca in time for dinner and you know that between not sleeping for the last two days and the jet lag, you'll desperately need to sleep on the jet. Hopefully you won't be too anxious to sleep. That would just make things that much worse.

******

“I am meeting her at the airport.” Javi isn’t shouting, but his voice has pitched up to match the same inflection as his father. Met with resistance when he announced that he would take the boat over to the private air strip to meet the woman who is to become his bride without the fan fair or pomp and circumstance that normally surrounds these affairs. “You wanted to keep people from knowing, it will be suspicious if I am in my formal royal uniform.”

"Why can you not let someone from staff fetch her and meet her properly here?" Miguel is exasperated beyond measure, having had both of his suggestions met with rejection from his son. Javier refuses to be in uniform to meet his intended and he refuses to receive the girl in the throne room. He insists on dressing down in a veritable disguise and going to the airport quietly himself. "I understand that you wish to meet her quickly and I commend that, but your position matters, Javier."

“Of course my position matters.” Javi huffs. “That is all that matters. But I am meeting her casually. I want to know what she thinks of this, of me, without any pretense or need for propriety.” He’s worried that you might be dreading this, resenting him once he had learned of the details of this arrangement. He would like to know if he is to be sentenced to a life of passive aggressive comments and resentment.

The king purses his lips, seeing from the clock on his bedside that time is running short to make this decision. "Fine." He concedes shortly. "But take enough staff with you to have her things brought to the palace separately. If you wish to have a conversation with her then you can bring her back to the palace and show her her rooms properly dressed. If not in uniform, then at least not looking like you've just come out of the pool." Clearly indicating he means that he disapproves of what his son is currently wearing, Miguel nods and sits up a little more in his bed. "Something that would be appropriate to wear at the dinner table, since you will be escorting her directly after showing her to her new home."

Javi sighs and nods. “I will even wear a sports jacket, your majesty.” He huffs sarcastically, annoyed that even meeting you is turning into an argument. He doesn’t want to be so stiff and formal all the time. Royals need to relax as well.

"Good." Glancing at the clock again, the king waves him off. "Go and change, then. You should be on your way."

Rolling his eyes again, Javi turns around and stalks out of his father’s bedchamber. Annoyed with himself and the king. Why must their relationship be so strained? Why is he so different from the man who had sired him? He wonders what this woman will think of him, already deciding he’s going to dress causally chic for the meeting.

******

The chance to wash and change and touch up your makeup on the flight after waking up from a six-hour nap was something you hadn’t expected and are grateful for. The simple but well-tailored white sundress you had chosen to make your first impression on the prince could be put on just thirty minutes before landing instead of being thrown on in the airport bathroom so that it wouldn’t wrinkle after hours on the plane. Everyone on board was so kind and so formal that you have to wonder if any of them knew who you were or if that was simply how they were trained. Either way, when you exit the jet’s cabin to come down the stairs with your travel bag in hand, there is just one person waiting for you. In a powder blue sport coat and linen shirt with perfectly tousled hair, he looks like he ought to be a model and not - you assume - palace staff. Sunglasses shield his eyes but he stands straight and watches you expectantly, suddenly making you question if you even know how to walk down stairs at all.

You are…beautiful. He expected his parents to have chosen someone with all the right characteristics and the right schooling, but the sheer force of your beauty nearly takes his breath away. His father will approve of your outfit, the white dress both prim and proper enough to be considered appropriate and yet Javi likes that you are showing some skin. The length of your arms on display and the legs both making him smile at the idea that maybe you are not as stuffy as he might have feared. “Welcome to las Islas Baleares.” He offers as you stride close. The staff rush to get your luggage and he gestures towards the boat swaying gracefully at the dock. “We have a short boat ride to the palace.”

“Muchas gracias.” As hard as you’re trying not to smile, this man that has been sent to receive you is incredibly handsome. His hair and stature remind you of the very few pictures you’ve seen of the prince, and you wonder if perhaps this man is a cousin. Some lower-level royal sent to be a one-man welcoming committee. “Everyone has been so very kind. I’m grateful to have such a personal welcome.”

He cannot tell if you are being sarcastic or not, figuring that you have recognized him. “Sí.” He simply nods his head and gestures for you to precede him. He will need to help you into the boat and then cast off the lines, preferring to operate the speeder himself.

The man’s silence is surprising but you try not to read into it too much as he walks you to a nearby ramp that leads down to a small boat dock with an elegant speeder moored at the tip. The crystal-clear ocean spreads out around you like its own kind of welcoming and you smile. “The evenings are very beautiful here.” Weather. Weather is safe small talk. “Are the days just as gorgeous?”

“Better.” Javi promises, holding out his hand when you stop next to the boat so he can assist you inside. “Not too hot, not too cold, just right.” He smirks slightly, remembering the childhood story about porridge.

“I have to admit, I won’t miss winter.” Putting your hand in his to accept help into the boat gives you a nearly electric shock that you beg your body to ignore. There is no room to be attracted to anyone but Prince Javier. It’s impossible, you remind yourself harshly.

Javi ignores how warm and soft your hands are, quickly bending down to untie the boat before jumping in beside you. Occupying himself with starting the engines and pulling away from the dock, he knows the staff will ferry your luggage over on the other tender. For now, he wants the race the boat over the waters to calm down his own rattled nerves.

His continued silence signals that the weather isn’t worth talking about, and you fall into an uneasy quiet as the boat speeds out into open water. You have about three million questions but know that you can’t ask them of just anyone. It wouldn’t be proper or ladylike to ramble on, and from the moment you stepped onto that jet at JFK you have done your utmost to be perfectly ladylike. Without knowing who knows what or what is truly expected of you beyond marrying a total stranger to produce royal heirs, you feel like the water might be in your lungs instead of under the boat. Your palms are sweaty and you twist the decorative ring on your finger nervously. At least it’s beautiful here - it would have been cruel if you had to spend the rest of your life someplace frozen when you notoriously dislike snow.

He looks back at you a few times, gauging if you like the water. Finding you looking pensive so he doesn’t speak. Not wanting to make you even more nervous if you aren’t impressed with his boating skills. Or him. Instead he throttles down as the palace comes into view, aware that everyone, even him, likes to take in the majestic site of the Balearic Islands seat of power.

When you first take in the sight of the palace standing high on the cliffside, you gasp audibly before you can stop yourself or muffle the sound. It’s truly remarkable - this medieval edifice that has survived through hundreds of years and countless occupants, and you can’t help but stare. No photograph could ever do it justice, and you’ve seen every single photograph. That is where you live now. That’s home. Unless you fuck up spectacularly and he sends you away in disgrace. Oh god. Don’t fuck up like that. “It’s…amazing,” you murmur, realizing that your escort has turned to see your reaction.

“Castel de Ocaso. The royal palace of Mallorca.” Javi announces. “Home of King Miguel Gutierrez and the crowned Prince Javier. Soon to be king along with you, his queen.” He offers before he throttles up slightly to guide the boat into the Royal docks.

“Soon to be?” You startle at that news, feeling your eyes go wide behind your sunglasses. The king had certainly failed to mention that when he called. “I—I did not think…You know who I am?”

Javi laughs for a moment but then he stops, realizing that you don’t know who he is. “Sí.” He nods, turning back around to ease the boat alongside the stone dock. “I know who you are.”

“Forgive me, I just…” It’s like your mouth has run dry and your head is spinning, except you know it’s only nerves. “I was under the impression it was not common knowledge. That only the king and Prince Javier knew.”

He hums, cutting the engine and letting the boat float up next to the dock expertly. Moving to toss the lines to the staff waiting on the pier to tie off. “Come.” He offers, stepping up off the boat and holding his hand down to you. “The king is waiting.”

“May I ask you about him?” Those innumerable questions are all bubbling to the surface as he helps you out of the boat, and you now feel even more sure that his must be a trusted family member that was sent to fetch you. “The prince, I mean?”

“What do you wish to know?” He asks, raising a brow in interest. Curious to know what questions burn in your mind about him.

“Is he a kind man?” You’ve seen official photos and been told what he likes – practically every birthday gift that you’ve ever received from King Miguel was something that Javier liked – but the question of his temperament is completely unknown to you.

“I would say so.” He offers, wanting you to open up more. “Shall we go up to the palace?”

“Thank you.” You nod politely and try to ignore the tingling in your skin at the small touch of hands. Once you’re up the stone steps built in to the cliffside, you look up at the palace again and remind yourself to smile. “Is the prince…” The curiosity is overwhelming. “Is he…shy? Outgoing? Is he a very social man?”

“Ask the questions you really want to ask.” Javi urges you, knowing that there are only a few more moments before propriety will be deemed necessary.

“It’s just…” This man is offering you just enough of a lingering lifeline that your curiosity just can’t say no to it. “It’s just that I’ve never seen photographs of him with friends o-or girlfriends.” You swallow. Hard. “Or boyfriends. And I just…I wondered if…if he…prefers women?” That might be one of the things that terrifies you most. The idea that this marriage was arranged to force him to be with a woman when he’s actually gay.

Javi chuckles. “Women.” He promises. “There is much emphasis on not causing a scandal for the crown.”

“I understand that entirely.” There was plenty of emphasis on that for you growing up as well. “Forgive me if that’s too personal. I just would never want to make him uncomfortable.” An awkward laugh passes your lips and you shrug slightly. “Hopefully just the fact of me doesn’t make him uncomfortable.”

“You care about the Prince’s comfort?” That surprises him, and it’s rather sweet. It is rare that someone cares about someone they’ve never met before, not even someone who was going to marry. You are guaranteed a crown, why would you care about the man placing it on your head?

"Of course." The idea that you wouldn't is fairly shocking to you, if you're honest. "Everyone deserves to be happy, don't they? Especially with the people closest to them. I mean...this arrangement...it's not something either of us chose. What good would it do for us to hate each other?"

“And you?” Javi turns to face you. “You would choose another without a crown? A woman?” The idea that you might be repulsed by men is one that flashes in his mind and it would be a miserably cold marriage if that were the case.

"No." The idea of having a choice is almost incomprehensible if you're honest, but you can only shake your head now. It's not as though you weren't allowed to date, it was just that no one you ever went out with was ever going to last. And if you had been found out to have slept with any of them, your father probably would have disowned you. "I mean I'm interested in men and from all the photos I've seen of the prince he's very attractive, I just...this arrangement was made on our behalf. And I would hate to think that he is dreading my arrival when I'm actually excited to finally meet him." Excited and terrified, but the terror will be kept private. This man does not need to know about your anxiety or your fear.

“Excited?” He tilts his head curiously and smirks. “Why are you excited? You are not worried? I would be.”

"Excitement and worry are two sides of the same coin." That's honest, at least, and very true. You're definitely both. "It's hard to be excited to meet the person you're supposed to spend your life with without also being at least a little worried about disappointing them. That...I guess that's why I'm so curious about him."

“No other questions?” He asks playfully. “Nothing at all?”

"I wouldn't want to be inappropriate." For all you know, you've already overstepped and offended this man or even the prince by accident by asking anything at all.

Javi snorts and shakes his head. “Of course.” He murmurs, slightly disappointed by the way you seemingly cling to propriety.

"It's just...there are personal things that I would prefer to ask him in privacy." Probably your imagination, is what it is, but when he pouts slightly you have the almost unhinged urge to hug him. "I'm so sorry. I never even asked your name and here I am asking questions about someone else entirely."

Javi had turned away, prepared to climb the stairs carved into the cliff to enter the palace but you give him the opening that he wants. Turning around, he pulls off his sunglasses and gives you a small smile. “I am Javi.”

"Oh shit." The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them and your eyes widen even more, with your entire body burning in embarrassment. Dropping down into possibly the least elegant curtsy of all time, you thankfully manage not to fall over but secretly wish you'd just topple right back over the edge of the cliff behind you. "I—I mean...I'm sorry, your Highness. I...apparently didn't recognize you." And went and made an idiot out of yourself in the process. Fucking hell...

“Obviously.” He smothers the grin and returns your curtsy with a formal bow and looks back up at you. “Now, what questions may I answer for you? Anything at all, since we are to be married.”

"How long have you known about me?" It slips out of you before you can think of anything more articulate or more interesting to ask not that you're standing face to face with him. At least you have the presence of mind to take off your own sunglasses and tuck them away in your bag.

“Two days.” Javi frowns, shaking his head slightly. “My father decided that I would learn of you the day he sent for you so I apologize that I do not know more than you are American and your name.”

"Two days?" It makes your heart sink in a way that you hadn't expected, and you can feel your shoulders roll in on themselves slightly before you push them back again. Ladies don't slouch says your father's voice in your head. "I've known about you almost my entire life."

“And you are…disappointed?” He asks softly. His entire life he had been compared to his father and been found wanting, why would the woman he was supposed to marry think any better of him?

"What? No!" When you look up again he's frowning so deeply that you have that overwhelming urge again to just wrap your arms around him and squeeze. Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately for propriety - you're frozen on the spot. "I just can't believe that your father didn't tell you. Our parents made the arrangement when I was so little that I've just...always known this would happen one day."

“My father- it’s complicated.” He sighs softly, slightly relieved that you aren’t disappointed. “I am sorry, I meant to just meet you casually, not mislead you as to who I was. It was very nice to realize you didn’t recognize me.”

"I thought you might have been your own cousin or something," you admit sheepishly, instantly wishing you hadn't said anything at all. "You have...very nice hair. I thought it might be a family trait."

“You like my hair?” Javi’s eyes widen slightly and he almost reaches up. “I like that you are wearing a dress that is not stuffy.” He admits.

"It's one of my favourites." That's why you chose it, really. To really look and feel like yourself the first time you met him. "You like it? I—I have more like it."

He nods. “It’s very nice. Perfect for an evening in Mallorca.”

"Is there anything you want to know about me?" Since he hasn't known about you for long, that means that anything about you that might have been communicated between your fathers is probably unknown to him.

“Endless questions.” Javi admits with a grin. “But the king is waiting for your arrival.” He bites his lip and decides to be honest. “My father is sick. So he will only meet with you for a few minutes.”

"I'm so sorry to hear that." The unconscious step you take toward him is like the pull of a magnet. "That's why you said soon to be king when we met, isn't it?"

“We – my father is stepping down.” Javi confesses. “And we will be married in two months’ time. I want— he needs—” Javi swallows, unable to speak the words that his father needed it to be quick. “He has few months left.”

"I see." Vivid flashes of your own mother's funeral burst in your mind but you swallow and reach out to touch his arm gently. "If two months is too long for him, just name the day." This is a commitment that you've been preparing yourself for, for your whole life. If it happens fast, then it happens fast.

“We will discuss it with him.” Javi is grateful that you understand and he covers your hand with his for a brief moment.

This time when his touch makes your skin prick, you accept it wholeheartedly. It's a giddiness in the pit of your stomach that feels a bit shallow but at the same time you can't help but be grateful for. He's incredibly attractive in person, now that you see his whole face, and you fluster a little as the two of you turn to continue walking to the palace together. "So...do you prefer to be called Javi?" You ask after a moment, remembering that he hadn't used his full name when he revealed himself to you.

“I do, Javier is too formal.” He makes a face before he frowns. “My father feels as if I am too relaxed for the throne, that I need to be more rigid, but I do not think it must be so serious all the time.”

"It's good to have someone that you can let down your guard with." That frown makes him look a bit like a sweet, discontented puppy, but at the same time you can't help hoping that you don't see it too often. "I hope that...in time...you might feel that you can be yourself with me."

“You have known about me your entire life?” He asks curiously. “And you agreed to marry a stranger?” There’s no judgement, but he finds it odd that someone so beautiful would agree to this.

"I think we must be a few years apart in age." It seems odd to tell him that you know his exact birthday and secretly always have a little cupcake that day in his honor. "You were a preteen when our parents made the contract. I was in pre-school." The slight shrug you offer says that it doesn't bother you anymore. It is simply a fact. "So I grew up knowing that one day - any day - I might get a phone call to come here and marry you."

“You have never…wanted more?” He asks, wishing that you weren’t so close to the doors. “For yourself?”

"More?" More than being royalty? That would make you about the most demanding and highest reaching person in the world, you think. Certainly it would be a rather extreme expectation. "More than what? I mean, I liked my job and all, but I tend to think I could do a lot more good here than just being an organizer for a non-profit back in New York." Or did he mean more than him? That actually makes you frown instead. "If you mean...personally? All I want is someone who loves me. And if that can't be you...well, you'll be king soon. You can make whatever decision you want."

“There— there is no divorce for the royal family.” Javi reveals, relieved, that it’s not the crown that you wished for, but love. “Once we are married, that’s it.” He might not agree with arranged marriages but he respected the crown and tradition enough that he would not make a mockery of it.

This particular fact has never been related to you so cleanly, but always sort of hinted at. And now that you’re hearing it directly from him, it seems almost foreboding. Like he is trying to see if you can be warned off. “The only expectation I have had for my life is to come here to marry you,” you tell him, fingers twisting around each other nervously. “I am prepared to do it. But if you decide that you don’t like me for some reason…” The possibility is surprisingly devastating to you, now that you’ve met him and feel strings of actual attraction for the man. He seems genuinely sweet. And is incredibly handsome. “If you decide you do not like me, then it is up to you what happens afterward. But I hope that that is not something we will have to think about.”

Javi shakes his head, no longer as resistant to the idea now that he had seen you in person. “My father has assured me that the contract is binding and it would be dishonorable for me to back out of this.” He gives you a nervous smile. “I just— I hope that I do not disappoint you. Our monarchy isn’t like England’s. We are the government and our people are very much our interest. We are small on the world stage.”

“That sounds vastly preferable, if I’m honest.” You’ve lingered outside one of the many palace doors for a few minutes now, and though you’re still nervous it’s slightly different than when you first arrived. “I hope that we can at least be friends? I would hate to be a disappointment to you, either. And I know that you did not ask for this.”

“We will have more time to get to know one another very well.” Javi acknowledges, opening the door for you to enter the palace. “Welcome home, Princess.”

______

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