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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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Morning Routine Pt.2 (Jung Wooyoung) Rated

Part One

Pairing: Videographer! Wooyoung × Camgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Fluff.

Summary: Loving his new job as the videographer for a camgirl, Wooyoung has no idea about the new project she has in mind for her channel.

Word Count: 4.3+K

Warnings: Non-established relationship, p*rn filming, use of sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, handjob, p*rn viewing, unprotected shower sex (always use protection), slight degradation, multiple orgasm (female) these horny mfs can't keep their hands off each other, Y/N has a thing for Wooyoung's arms (who doesn't?)

Taglist: @seacottons @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @brie02 @deja-vux @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters

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Wooyoung threw his head back, eyes shut as his mouth uttered out some rather loud and harsh grunts. Tiny sweat beads formed along his hairline, his forehead creasing slightly as he fully immersed himself on stroking his hard length. His head was filled with images of the previous night with his new housemate, images of her dressed in the most alluring black playboy bunny outfit bodysuit, completed with ears, collar, cuffs and everything else. It was like a dream come true, watching her look extremely pretty as she played around with her pussy in front of him as he filmed her. To continue the bunny theme, she had taken out her pink rabbit vibrator, making sure to tease him, and her viewers later, by licking the longer part of the device, covering it in her spit before inserting it inside her tight little hole. Wooyoung would never get the picture out of his head as he witnessed her overstimulating herself over and over until she had tears brimming down her cheeks.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-" She gasped violently as tiny spurts of her orgasm squirted out, staining the carpet underneath her. Wooyoung didn't even know that she was capable of squirting like that, but it was the most erotic thing he had ever seen before his eyes.

"Holy shit."

Just remembering that image had him holding himself up on the vanity counter with his free hand, the other furiously pumping his shaft with intensity as his white semen started to pour out of him and spill onto the floor. He panted heavily as he came down from his high, chest heaving up before lowering back down. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he grabbed a couple of tissues and proceeded to clean up the mess he had made, discarding the waste into the basket underneath the vanity. Pulling his pants back up and throwing on his black sweater, he looked at his reflection in the mirror one last time, only needing to fix the part on his growing black hair. Satisfied with how he looked, he came out of the bathroom and picked up his bag that he had laid out on his bed, books and materials ready for the day.

Stepping out of his room, he had to do a step back when a certain feline scared him by her mere presence outside his door, meowing loudly at him, almost like a whine.

"Oh god, don't scare me like that Baby." Smiling he stooped down to try and pet her head, but in her usual fashion, she hissed at him before scurrying off. Wooyoung let out a sigh and shook his head.

"One week after moving here and she still treats me so coldly." He didn't understand what was up with that cat, seemingly warming up to him only to revert back to her aggresive behavior.

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, his face broke out into a smile as the object of his deepest fantasies and affection was currently standing in front of the sink again, finishing up her task of drying the dishes she had just meticulously washed, wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts and cotton underwear. Coming up behind her, his hands cupped at her waist as his lips pressed themselves against her cheek.

"Took you a while to come out." She chuckled softly, knowing exactly what he had been doing in the bathroom.

"Morning to you too beautiful." He greeted her, lips pulling away only to dive into the side of her neck.

"Woo, you're going to be late for school." She reminded him yet made no effort to push him off her, enjoying the way his hands caressed her hips too much.

"No I'm not, I still got plenty of time."

Turning her around, he wasted no time in connecting their lips together, parting and closing them over hers in a fervent and needy way. Y/N couldn't suppress a moan when one of his hands dropped in between her thighs and caressed its way up. His palm started to rub her clothed heat, paying close attention to the wet spot starting to form at the bottom of them. Y/N gasped into Wooyoung's mouth when he suddenly slipped his hand inside her panties, fingers immediately working on her clit.

"Wooyoung please.." She whimpered, hands clutching onto his arms. Even through the fabric of his thick sweater, she could still feel the muscles of his strong biceps and that turned her on even more. Her hands grazed across his arms, and Wooyoung chuckled lowly as he knew what she was doing.

"Love my arms babygirl? Yes you do, especially when they're manhandling you down on the bed."

It was a good thing his arms were holding her up because she nearly fell to the floor as her mind recalled all the times she had been pinned down to her bed or to wall by Wooyoung's biceps. It was a borderline fetish now and she was not ashamed of it. Y/N began whining as Wooyoung's fingers continued playing with her little nub.

"Woo..." Her breath hitched, a sign she was about to cum, body growing hotter by the second.....

Until a disgruntled cat broke the two apart, pouncing on Wooyoung from behind as her claws dug into his thighs as they usually tended to do.

"Oh my god Baby would you kindly fuck off?!" Wooyoung exclaimed as he backed away from his lover in pain as he tried to get the Persian cat off his body.

Y/N immediately went over and grabbed her, her master's touch making her calm down and retract her claws enough to pry her off Wooyoung. The poor boy was rubbing on the attacked spot, face grimacing at the dull pain. Looking back, he narrowed his eyes at the cat, who likewise had her pupils turning into slits when she noticed him glaring.

"God dammit, can't even play with my favorite pussy because that demon pussycat wants to be a cockblocker."

As if understanding him, the cat hissed at him once more, body trying to jump out of Y/N's arms and no doubt lunge at the man in front of her.

"Ok ok that's enough. I think you need some catnip to help calm you down." Y/N kissed the top of her pet's head, trying hard to appease her.

"And you should probably start heading to school. Don't waste anymore time."

Wooyoung grabbed his bag again and slumped it over his shoulder.

"Fine, only cause you ask me to."

He came up to try and kiss her goodbye, but when the feline got agitated once more, he decided against it.

"Ok I'll see you later." Wooyoung waved at her.

"Don't forget, we're filming something else later tonight as well." Y/N smirked, petting the top of her cat's head in a comically fashion.

"Oh please, do tell me what my favorite porn star is planning." His teeth tugged at his bottom lip as he stared her up and down.

Holding a finger up to her lips, Y/N giggled.

"It's a surprise and you get to find out when you come back."

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With eyes glued to the screen, Wooyoung continued to edit the video in front of him. He had been so immersed in his other endeavors with Y/N that he had nearly abandoned his other pending projects he needed to turn in. Luckily for him, it was rather easy since they weren't that difficult. The hard part was trying to ignore his classmates that were sitting and hovering around the computer next to him, giggling and snorting amongst themselves.

"Honestly, where's that mean, grouchy librarian when you need her to shut some idiots up?" Wooyoung thought to himself, twirling the pencil that was currently held between his index and middle finger.

Judging by the tiny crowd next to him and the weird moans faintly coming out of the speaker, he knew for sure that they were definitely not watching something family friendly.

"Typical." He mused to himself, humming out a little tune in hopes of drowning out their incessant and lewd chatter.

"Ok but guys, I need to introduce you all to this really hot camgirl I recently found. You won't believe it." One of the older guys named Seonghwa lightly pushed his way in the middle, fingers delicately typing away at the keys in front of him. Scrolling down for a while, he found what he was looking for and promptly clicked on it.

"This was her most recent one. Literally uploaded last night."

Although the volume was turned significantly low so that nobody suspected anything, Wooyoung's ears perked up as they distinguished an extremely familiar voice whispering obscene and dirty phrases towards her audience, ones that had been repeated over and over in his head for a while. Slightly pushing his chair away from the table, Wooyoung leaned back and tilted his head as unsuspecting as he possibly could to look over and get a glimpse of what his classmates were looking at. Just as he suspected, on the screen was none other than his beloved roommate in the attire she had worn the previous night. His face blushed slightly and he quickly looked away, afraid of getting caught looking over at their direction.

"Damn she's smoking hot." A classmate his age, Mingi spoke up.

"You know I'm more of a cat person, but fuck. I'd let that bunny hop herself on my lap and rut her sweet little ass on my cock."

Wooyoung's thumb pressed hard against the pencil he was holding, a tiny vein popping out of his neck that showed his displeasure at hearing such things being said about his fuck buddy.

"Keep dreaming Choi San." Wooyoung muttered under his breath in a passive aggressive tone.

"Ok but seriously, who's the bastard that gets to film her videos?" Mingi asked, a hand coming up to push up the glasses that were falling low on his nose bridge.

"Whoever he is, he's seriously one lucky guy." Seonghwa stated with a gloomy look.

"Yeah. Probably gets to jerk himself right in front of her as he's filming no doubt." San huffed, voice clearly laced with envy.

Wooyoung tried but failed in keeping a straight face, a smug grin appearing on his lips as he continued his task at hand.

"No but I get her to help me out after each session." He seriously wanted to say that out loud, but he contented himself with that knowledge that was a secret between him, Y/N and her cute yet menacing cat.

"Fuck it, I'm subscribing to her channel. Do you know when her next video will be up?" San whipped out his phone, tapping away at the keyboard as he looked up Y/N's camgirl profile on the website.

"I don't know but she's been a lot more active recently, posting a lot more content than before." Seonghwa answered.

"Great, cause I can't wait for her next project."

Wooyoung laughed inside himself when he heard San say that

"Trust me, neither can I...."

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With the camera held in his hands and the all too familiar throbbing inside his pants, Wooyoung kept his gaze locked on Y/N as she was spread across her bed. If he thought she looked stunning the night before, it was nothing compared to what she had on at the moment. Her body was exceptional beautiful in the glittering body chain lingerie consisting of a silver rhinestone bra that had a connecting waist belt with metallic tassels dangling from the ends. To top it all off, not only was her makeup more extravagant than the ordinary, but she had even gone as far as applying sparkling highlighter on some parts of her body like her shoulders, collarbone and the top of her breasts. She truly looked like an ethereal queen, one that many people would love to get a glimpse of up close and personal.

Y/N was a mess of stuttering gasps and whiny moans as she continued bouncing herself on the 8" dildo in between her thighs. She often open her eyes and look at the camera with a hazy look while adding a few comments that were bound to rile her viewers even further.

"I'm so close. I'm gonna cum...." She exhaled deeply, teeth biting harshly down at her lip.

"Are you gonna cum with me?"

Wooyoung felt like he very well could cum untouched just by the sheer sight of her. The dildo was lodged so deep inside of her, one could see it bulge out of her lower abdomen. She herself knew it as well as her hand brushed along the outline of it.

"Your cock feels so good inside me, I don't think I can hold off any longer."

With hands firmly pressed on the mattress to hold her up, she fucked herself so roughly down onto the sex toy, her cries becoming more loud and staggered.

"Oh fuck! Cum with me! Please cum inside this pussy of mine." She pleaded.

She collapsed on the bed after reaching an intense high, her mouth agape as she took in deep breaths to calm her heated body. Reaching down, she pulled out the dildo, a thin clear line of arousal coming out as well. Holding it up, she waved it in front of the camera, knowing fully well Wooyoung had zoomed in close to her face.

"Until next time my darlings." She giggled and gave an expert wink at the lenses in front of her.

"And cut."

As soon as he said those words, Y/N sat up and took hold of Wooyoung's arm rather sharply, pulling him so he could follow her into her bathroom.

"Whoah, still got energy left after that show princess?" He snorted when she closed the door behind them.

Huffing softly, she took the camera out of his hands and carefully placed it on the vanity counter.

"I'm sticky, sweaty and in need of a shower." Within giving any other explanation, she began unzipping Wooyoung's pants and sliding then down his legs.

"And I'm here because....?" Although he knew very well why she dragged him with her, he still loved feigning like he didn't know what she was up to.

"Because showers are a lot more fun when you have company." Looking up at him, she smiled and tapped on the bottom of his shirt, a signal for him to remove it, which he of course did.

After a pile of clothes was accumulated neatly and tossed in a corner, the two individuals stepped inside the glass surrounded shower. Turning it on to a cool temperature, both of them emitted soft sighs at the feeling of the refreshing water pouring down their bodies. Taking hold of her pink and soft sponge, Wooyoung took it upon himself to clean her body of the sparkling residue left from the makeup. Making sure to create as much lather as possible, he began to gently swipe the sponge across her body with slow and gentle movements, being careful with her skin lest he accidentally scrubbed too hard. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but she loved having intimate moments like this with him. Taking showers together just because, without needing anything to happen between them. Cooking together, which she ended up finding out Wooyoung was an above average cook, which added to his fatal charms that had her melting for him. Or just cuddling together on the couch as a movie played, more often than not ending with one of them on the floor after they decided to start play wrestling amongst themselves, both of them in fits of giggles afterwards.

After making sure to cover her body with the floral scented soap, Wooyoung stepped back and moved her so the majority of the shower head was aimed at her, rinsing off the foam around her body. Watching it trail off her figure and down the drain, he let out a satisfied smile at his work.

"All better?"

Instead of answering, Y/N came up to him and rested her head on his chest, eyes closing as her hands took hold of his arms to wrap them around her. Getting the hint, Wooyoung held her body against his, fingers lightly running themselves down her back in soothing strokes. Reaching up, her hands came up to rest against the muscles on his upper arms, fingers tapping against his skin every now and then. Wooyoung couldn't help but laugh softly when he felt her grip tighten around them.

"What exactly is it about my arms that makes you horny over them?" He questioned her.

Frowning slightly, Y/N pulled away to look at him.

"I do not get horny over your arms, excuse me." She defended herself against what she considered to be slanderous talk.

Quirking an eyebrow up, Wooyoung let out a scoff.

"Oh really? Then tell me everytime I wear a sleeveless shirt, you're practically drooling and keep your eyes off them?"

It was a good thing there was water splashing all over them or else Y/N wouldn't have been able to camouflage the subtle blush that appeared on her cheeks.

"I do not." She interjected.

Shaking his head in a teasing fashion, Wooyoung leaned in and pecked her lips.

"Beg your pardon miss, but I've seen the way you eye them, especially during my workouts."

Making sure to flex his muscles, Wooyoung gripped her tighter against his body, pressing her unbelievably close as his arms encapsulated most of her body, leaving her slightly out of breath from the tight squeeze he gave her.

"Is it cause you like having me smother you in an embrace with them?"

Wanting to play around with her even more, he suddenly pressed her back against the tile wall, arms coming down to place themselves at the back of her thighs.

"Or cause you like it when I man handle you like this?"

Y/N groaned when she felt Wooyoung's mouth start pressing kisses along her jaw and neck, tilting it back so he could have more space to work with. He chuckled when he felt her breath hitch.

"You're so easy to rile up beautiful." He pointed out in a cocky manner.

Not wanting to let him get away with his behavior, Y/N slid a hand down his chest before taking hold of his dick, making it spring back to life and get hard once more after forgetting how aroused it was when the cold water splashed onto it. She made sure to pump it vigorously, causing Wooyoung to pull back and moan loudly at her ministrations.

"I could say the same about you handsome. Just one brush of my hand against your thighs and your little friend comes up to greet me."

Closing her lips over his, any sound about to escape was muffled by her tongue which slid its way inside his mouth, massaging itself against his own wet muscle. As one hand continued stroking along his shaft, her other hand came down to cup underneath and fondle his balls. That action further fed his aching need to bury himself inside her wetness.

"Getting a little hot my love? Bothered? I can feel your cock throbbing in my hand." Knowing exactly what she was doing, she squeezed his balls rather hard as her thumb circled around his tip. That and the fact she bit down at Wooyoung's bottom lip was enough to make him lose control of his senses. He could no longer hold back after hours of having her tease him.

Prying her hands off him, he placed one hand on the back of her thigh and wrapped her leg up around his waist, allowing him to slide his length rather easily past her folds to rest inside her heat. Pressing her back against the wall once more, Wooyoung dropped his other hand down to her other thigh.

"Hold onto my arms." He whispered against her ear, a command she didn't need to be told twice as her hands placed themselves on his biceps. Hoisting her other leg around his waist, Wooyoung didn't wait any longer and immediately began slamming his hips into her. Having been sexually frustrated since their interruption that morning, both of them basked in the enjoyment of having their lower bodies connect again.

"Oh fuck- you're still tight even after fucking yourself wide open with that dildo?"

Y/N's hands clung tighter to his arms, nails nearly digging into his skin. Her wails were only half heard due to the pounding of Wooyoung's cock that had her back hitting against the wall behind her, cutting off her sounds midway. The way he gripped at her thighs was so strong that she had no doubt about having purple bruises on those spots for days to come, but she didn't care. Her mind was too focused on the overwhelming feeling of his cock inside her, cries of pleasure echoing through the room.

"You like me fucking you like this baby? Cock deep inside this little pussy of yours?" He taunted her as his timed thrusts continued to impale her tight core, slick and warm walls tightening around his hard shaft.

"Yes! Fuck me just like you are doing!" She exclaimed, eyes looking down to watch as his cock drove out of her only to ram itself back in. At this point she was becoming light headed, feeling intoxicated by the tension building in her body, ready to snap at any moment.

"Fuck! You're gonna make me cum!" She whimpered as she clawed into his arm muscles, making Wooyoung hiss.

"Then fucking cum like the slut you are." He growled against her ear.

With a piercing shriek, her walls tightened unbearably against his length, pulsating as she came hard all over him. Even during the peak of her climax, Wooyoung maintained his pace and harsh pounding, not giving her an ounce of pity to diminish the euphoric sensation overtaking her. Pulling out of her and safely bringing her back down, Wooyoung tilted her chin up so she could look into his lust filled face.

"If you think we're done, you're wrong baby. I'm not quite done with you yet."

Swinging her body to the left, Wooyoung pressed her body up against the clear glass window that covered the shower. Taking hold of her hips, Wooyoung's cock lodged itself inside her warm walls once more, the sound of smacking skin bouncing against the walls. Y/N placed her palms against the clear glass to keep her steady as his hungry cock fucked her in a furious rhythm. She could barely keep her eyes open as she was overly sensitive from not only her previous orgasm but from having played with herself rather intensely during their filming session.

"Fuck- your cock feels amazing." She moaned out in a low and airy tone.

"Yeah? Is it better than all those toys you fuck yourself with?" Wooyoung cooed against her ear.

"God yes! Way better. Wooyoung you fuck me so good." She responded, her wailing becoming higher in pitch as another build up began to rise up in her.

"So good that you'll cum for me a second time? Will you?" Y/N knew that wasn't a request, it was an order, an order that her body couldn't resist fulfilling, especially when the angle his hips hit against her ass had the head of his cock brushing against her g-spot continuously.

"Cum on me one more time beautiful. Let me feel you again."

Falling under the spell of his command, Y/N let out sputters of his name as her legs trembled under her, threatening to give out on holding her up had Wooyoung not had his hands keeping her upright as he kept pushing his cock into her from behind. It wasn't long before he himself felt himself being tipped over the edge.

"Shit! Oh shit!"

With a few more pops of his hips, he was done, spurt after spurt of cum filling her pussy up until it started running down her legs, getting swallowed up and washed away along with the rest of the water pouring out from above them. They both stayed still for a couple seconds, each one trying to catch their breath and steady their heartbeats. Resting his forehead atop of her shoulder, Wooyoung's raspy breaths were the only things she could hear.

"Fuck Y/N....." She let out an involuntary smile when he whispered that, his labored breathing telling her he enjoyed that quite a lot.

Withdrawing himself from between her legs, Wooyoung's dick softening after finally being able to find release in Y/N's body. Making sure to do a final rinse to clean up any leftover cum, Wooyoung turned off the water and carefully guided Y/N out the shower, knowing fully well her thighs were burning after all that.

"Easy there beautiful, don't worry I got you." He smiled ever so sweetly at her as he picked up a towel and draped it over her shoulders. Y/N let out a groan as she reclined back against the counter, exhausted from their intense love session.

"Wooyoung, could you please get me my pajamas and help me dress?" Her bottom lip poked out, voice slightly frigging after having her vocal chords nearly ripped out from all the screaming his cock had her doing.

"Of course beautiful. I'll be right back."

Booping his nose against hers, Wooyoung tied a towel around his waist before scurrying out of the bathroom in search of something comfortable for Y/N to wear. Through pained hisses, Y/N managed to turn her body so she was facing the mirror in front of her. Bending down, her face gave out a tired smile towards the camera that she had placed strategically on the counter beforehand, the tiny red light indicating it had been recording everything that happened in the shower, unbeknownst to her partner who was still in her drawers looking for her clothes. Reaching over, she stopped the film and made sure to save the file, a sly smirk on her face as her mind was already coming up with the title of her next project.

"Fucking my camera boy in the shower without him knowing...."

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matildashoney · 3 years

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Messy kisses are left across her neck, sparing any marks that can’t be covered with a heavy coating of concealer and foundation and the turtleneck that she’s chosen to wear for the day. Teeth nip at his bottom lip, wanton moans echoing around the silent elevator, the ever so slight dings telling the two that the office and, more importantly, the sofa that they were in search of is only minutes away. Hands are heavy against each other’s skin, bruising beneath the knitted sweater dress and the blue and white striped suit that decorated his toned figure, his hair swept back and away from his forehead in the way she likes, gelled to perfection, one strand of hair falling to his forehead that he’s sure she’ll brush away when he’s on top of her in a few minutes time. Comfortable routines, they’ve fallen into, as the CEO and COO of Bode’s London office, making their early morning coffee runs before the assistants have shown up at a bright and early nine, and finding their way to the office at eight, where for an hour, their hands are nearly glued to each other’s bodies and their lips are attached at the seams.

“Fuckin’ insatiable,” Harry moans against her, harshly biting her neck and smirking against her skin when she tugs at the root of his hair as a warning, although Harry never really took to her warnings much. “Miss Taylor, tell me something. What am I going to do with you, sweetheart? Havin’ me fuck you in our offices before our assistants come in with our coffees. Quite the naughty girl I have.”

“Fuck me, Harry,” she says in a whimpered tone, absolutely enthralled by the way his lips are moving on her skin, the way his hands are squeezing her backside and itching to tear at the seam of her tights. “Couldn’t find another pair of tights, this morning. Must’ve run out at your place. Can’t tear these ones. Think I can make it up to you, though.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he says, his hand splaying flat against the wall of the elevator as her fingertips begin to unbuckle his belt, the clanking of the metal making her thighs clench together as she remembers the night the belt hit deliciously against her ass, bruising her and making it difficult to sit for nearly two days. “Are you really going to drop to your knees fo’ me in the middle of the fucking elevator?”

“That depends on if you want me to, sir,” Jo says innocently, batting her eyelashes and staring at him through hooded doe eyes, her thumbs already tucking in the waistband of his briefs and massaging his taut thighs delicately. “Quite obvious to me that someone needs something, or they’re going to be quite angry at work, all day long.”

“Open your mouth,” Harry says sternly, gently gathering her hair and wrapping it in his fist, the handmade curls falling around his rings and his white knuckles as she slowly licks the underside of his shaft, slowly circling and suckling on the bright red tip on her tongue, her lips slowly but surely sinking around his entirety, all that she can take in her mouth, her hand going to hold the rest and pump alongside her bobbing head. “Look so fuckin’ pretty with your mouth around m’cock, sweetheart.”

That compliment never fails to make her moan. Her vibrations around him make his cock twitch in her mouth, the tightness in his stomach building from the sensitivity of the morning time to the way she’s so amazing at giving him head, the way she knows the way he loves when she gently cups him and squeezes as his tip reaches the back of her throat, when her nails dig crescents into his cheeks, to the way her tongue sloppily wets his shaft and she sucks in a breath and takes him all the way down her throat, nuzzling her nose into his pubic hair and letting her eyes water.

Harry groans, tightening his grip around her hair and scratching at her scalp soothingly, the gagging noises and the wet slurps that sound in the silent elevator driving him absolutely wild. All of this is filthy – every single part of it. From the way Harry and Jo sneak in a quick fuck in their offices in the morning – nearly every morning – to the way Harry’s slid his hand between her legs at board meetings to the way Jo’s fallen to her knees beneath his desk as he takes a call overseas to headquarters in New York City. All of it is downright filthy.

And they love it.

Harry’s orgasm comes quickly, staring intently as she happily swallows everything on her tongue, the excess wiped on his thumb and tucked between her lips before she stands on her feet and wipes beneath her eyes as if she hadn’t had his cock down her throat only seconds before while he adjusts his trousers on his waist. Harry kisses her deeply, his hands wrapping around her waist and bringing her into his chest, their tongues sharing his taste and moans and savoring the kisses that are shared in the intimacy of the lonesome elevator.

“Take me to your office, H,” Jo whimpers, squeezing her thighs around his waist tighter as he takes their bags and tosses them lightly on the couch in the waiting area of the lobby. Harry can feel the heat between her thighs radiating onto him and it’s driving him insane. Their assistants would take the respective bags to their offices during their morning meetings as they always do, along with their secondary coffees and teas and the meeting notes for the remainder of the afternoon. “Take me to your office and fuck me.”

“Having me in your throat wasn’t enough, baby?” Harry teases, opening his door with a nudge of his foot and walking to his desk, laying her down on the edge and closing the door behind him, the blinds shut, and the curtains drawn together. “Need me in you, too?”

“Piss off with all the teasing and fuck me like you mean it,” she says, reaching beneath her dress and yanking down the tights on her thighs. “Unless you don’t mean it.”

Harry undoes his trousers, once again, his cock hard between his fingertips as he gently pumps his shaft and leans his hip against the side of the desk, his eyes wide and staring at where her legs are parted and her thighs are open for his to stand between, the wetness of her arousal soaking through the white lace underwear she’s taken to wearing for the day. Jo never fails to make him absolutely speechless, absolutely enthralled by her. “My sweet girl, I always mean it when I fuck you; you should know that about me by now.”

Harry, who rarely gives her a warning when he’s going to thrust into her, drags his tip along her slit, collecting the wetness on his skin and rubbing it over his shaft, moaning at the warmth that she radiates as her legs hook around his waist and bring him closer to her. Jo moans at the sensation, the feeling, soaking in the way his cock so easily slips into her warmth, his fingertips digging into her hips, his mouth finding hers and kissing her deeply, passionately, hungrily. Her nails dig crescents into his shoulders, her moans echoing on his tongue as he absolutely destroys her, thrusting into her so quickly that she’s sure the desk is going to break from beneath them, her thigh propped on his shoulder, giving him easy access to the spot inside of her that makes her shiver around him, that makes her clench and squeeze and whimper his name in the most delicious way.

“Harry,” Jo moans into Harry’s ear, tugging at the roots of his hair and whimpering for a deeper touch, his thumb immediately going to her mouth and pushing between her lips, her tongue swirling around his fingertip and clenching around his cock with a groan as he takes the finger and begins circling her nerves between her thighs, the sensations all at once becoming too much for the early morning sensitivity. “Fuck me, fuck me.”

“Be a good girl,” Harry grunts, his thrusts becoming slightly sloppy and the pace slowing slightly, her thigh beginning to ache over his shoulder and the tensity of the thrusts starting to work at her orgasm, the burning coil in her stomach too much for her so early in the morning. Jo needs the release, needs to let the orgasm wash over her and her eyes to squeeze shut and the world to shut down momentarily for her to only see stars and Harry and savor in the feeling. “Cum for me.”

“God, you’re so good, fuck,” she moans, her orgasm washing over her senses and blinding her vision, her thighs shaking uncontrollably around him, the feeling of his orgasm spilling into her making her orgasm hit harder, every feeling of warmth wrapped inside of her almost too much sensationally. His thumbs rub her thighs soothingly, comfortingly, his lips touching her forehead and gently wiping the sweat that was beading at her hairline lovingly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. Anytime.”

Harry Styles wouldn’t ever admit this, but surely, they’re in love, somehow, someway. Could they even not be? Having sex with Jolene Taylor for nearly two years now, the two together are the most sought-after pairing in the fashion industry. Having worked together at the New York City Office, the founders were searching for a dynamic pairing that would open the London Office, and Harry Styles and Jolene Taylor were the ones for the job.

Harry Styles. Originally from Manchester, moved to New York City to pursue his dream in the fashion industry and only a short year later was being promoted in within the company and meeting higherups and extending his name to contacts beyond his wildest dreams. His insecurely rooted masculinity made for interesting conversations between the two, mainly arguments about whether or not they were an official thing even though neither of them had had sex with another person since they began sleeping together before their move back home two years ago. Harry wanted to be something with Jo. Truly, it’s as simple as that to Harry. To Harry, there wasn’t another person in the world that could frustrate, annoy, irritate, anger him the way she does, but it is something that he adores her for. He loves that she’s headstrong and independent and capable, that she’s smart and talented and fucking beautiful. He’s downright obsessed with her and anyone in the room could see it. Only, she can’t see it that way, or she chooses not to.

Jolene Taylor. Originally from Brighton, went to the London College of Fashion and landed an internship in New York City at the bright age of twenty. Only, at the age of twenty-one, she found herself working with the biggest brands in the fashion industry, the biggest names, the ones that could teach her everything and everything about fashion that she hadn’t learned or even thought of. Overwhelming commitment issues led to many arguments between the two, especially on Harry’s end since he was clinging to the titles of their relationship more than she was. Harry was nearing thirty, only a few hours away, and he wants to settle down, have a family. Jo knows this. Honestly, her heart is in it with Harry – really, it is – but there is a hinderance every time he asks for her to be his girlfriend, something to get in the way. Could it be the idea that Harry is set on his wife not working, or that Harry’s a proper dick to the employees on a bad day – the ones that don’t know how to do their job, mostly – or the idea that their lives in the company would turn into chaos if they had to admit they were together to their bosses. Could it be anything of the sort?

Many reasons were stacking together as to why Jo wasn’t committing to Harry, and it was beginning to make for tension between the two lovebirds. Especially in moments, like these.

Harry is fixing his belt, his eyes trained on where Jo is delicately bringing up her tights and situating the band beneath her sweater dress, the maroon color accentuating her skin just right. His heart is pounding in his ears, his perfectly gelled hair coming slightly undone from the way she was tugging on it only minutes ago, and his comb is tucked away in his desk, ready to be used and adjust his hair for the day, to have himself business worthy and not looking as though he was fucking his girlfriend – or whatever he could call her – minutes before their assistants walk in the building. Her hands smooth over the dress, over the knitted material that is barely covering her thighs, the black tights all too enticing to him to tear apart at the seams and take her once more. Harry knows she wouldn’t mind that all too much. Jo enjoys being taken anywhere and everywhere way too much to ever say a thing about it.

“Happy Birthday, by the way,” Jo smirks, taking a seat in the chair in front of Harry’s desk, brushing through her hair lightly and letting the curled waves fall along her shoulders. Harry sets the mirror he bought for her in front of her, excusing himself momentarily to grab their bags and specifically grab her makeup that was tucked away in her bag for the day. “Have your present at home in my apartment.” Harry narrows his eyes at her. “And I’ll be happy to give it to you later, Harry.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Quite a way to start my thirtieth, hm?” Harry hums, kissing her hair and sitting in the chair beside her, watching as she carefully ties her hair back and pulls two strands from the front to hang along her face, his eyes intently staring as she blinks through her mascara and the blush and the bronzer – he’s learned the names of the products after all this time – the glitter adorning her cheeks making his cheeks flush bright pink with adoration. “Look fuckin’ drop dead gorgeous,” he says breathily, waiting until she’s rubbed her lip gloss together before holding his hand out and gesturing for her to take a seat on his thighs, to come sit with him for moment before the chaos of their day begins. “Jolene Taylor, you’re fuckin’ hot, and all mine to gawk at.”

Her laugh brightens his whole day, Harry swears by it, and when she giggles and hides her face in his neck, Harry swears that his heart is going to burst with love and adoration for this woman instantly in his chest. Her hands gently cup his face, kissing his lips sweetly and a laugh echoing on his skin when he tickles her waist, her hands holding his shoulders as she wiggles out of his grasp and onto the ground, finding her heels and slipping the slick black boot onto her feet. Harry smacks her backside playfully, earning a squeak from her and a laugh from him, as he stands from his chair and walks around to the chair behind his desk, taking the mirror and setting it in its rightful place, turning on his computer and taking a look at the emails that have already been filling in at nearly nine in the morning.

“Alright, Mr. Styles, you get three stolen work kisses, today. Only because it’s your thirtieth. Make them count and choose them wisely,” she says, walking towards the door and carrying her bag alongside her. “Make sure they’re private ones, too. Think our assistants are catching onto us.”

“Only three? That seems a bit cruel, Miss Taylor,” Harry drags, rolling his eyes when she squints and narrows her eyes warningly at him. Harry’s smile is impossible to erase from his features, the way she so effortlessly makes him happy making his whole day ten times brighter, start to finish. “Fine! Fine! Three. That’s only for here, though. Expect a lot more when we get back to mine.”

“All right,” she smirks, smiling widely at the man sitting with his leg propped on his knee, the spread position only attractive when he’s the one doing it. Jolene finds herself thinking about Harry a lot in that way, that something is only attractive when he’s the one doing it. “Harry Styles, you’re hotter than hot.” Almost as if she’s in love with him.

Certainly not that; that couldn’t be.

Harry snorts, shaking his head and returning his stare to his computer, waiting rather impatiently for his assistant to arrive with his coffee. Meetings would preoccupy his entire day, not seeing the use of taking the day off for his thirtieth when his girlfriend – or whatever she wants to be called – would be working, too. All Harry would do if he was at home would be to wish that Jolene was with him and maybe have a wank or two. Quite pointless when his girl – she is his girl, whether she outwardly admits it or not – would be willing to go down on him at the office had he gone.

This is where Harry’s at, now, working on his thirtieth birthday, freshly fucked and admittedly exhausted from the activities the night before that involved the girl he’s obsessed with and his submissive side and pretty pink handcuffs in his bedside table. His eyes travel to the knock on his door, his assistant right on time with his coffee and the magazines for the day, the reports for their stock and daily sales already sent to his email.

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Styles,” Carson smiles, setting the coffee on his desk alongside the magazines in the way he likes, setting the only breakfast he likes – a croissant from the café thirty minutes away – on the stack and grinning. “Have you got any big plans to celebrate the day?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Harry says curtly, very much aware of the flirting that she’s trying to persuade out of him. Harry’s only interested in flirting with one person, however, and that person is very much like him – very jealous. “Have you got any plans for the weekend?”

And instantly Harry regrets asking.

“Actually, I was going to see if you wanted to, maybe, um get a drink with me on Saturday night,” Carson wonders nervously, taking a step backwards away from his desk and fiddling with her thumbs. Carson is pretty, Harry has to admit, with her blonde hair and blue eyes and the subtle freckles on her cheeks. Carson is pretty, yes, but Harry wouldn’t say she’s his type; she’s too young, firstly, secondly, he’s her boss, directly giving her orders every morning and afternoon. That’s simply wrong to Harry. Bit cliché, if he’s honest. Too cliché for him. Harry must’ve taken too long to answer, because quickly Carson follows with, “Um, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. This is wrong of me.”

“Carson, it’s okay,” Harry says smoothly, and her entire demeanor changes into something less nerve-wracking. “Honestly, ’m flattered, but, um, ’m seeing someone at the minute, and they wouldn’t be too happy with me if ‘m caught on a date with someone else, you know.”

“Understandable,” she says sadly, slightly disappointed. “All of your meetings for the day are in the calendar. Are you going to lunch, today? Would you like for me to order your usual with Miss Taylor?”

“Mr. Styles will be coming to lunch with me, Carson.” Harry smirks as Jolene interrupts Carson’s conversation, smirking devilishly at him and slyly winking at him, and Harry knows what she’s thinking about for lunch. On their hour lunch break, Harry can anticipate having his head between her thighs, devouring his favorite meal, absolutely losing himself in her scent and her taste. “Thank you, though.” Carson leaves quietly and uncomfortably aware of what the relationship was like between the two.

“Obviously, your jealousy senses were tingling,” Harry teases, scooting away from his desk and opening his thighs for her to sit on, her body travelling across the office and to where his legs were slightly parted for her to sit between. Her smirk widens when she sits at the edge of his desk, her thighs barely open for him to slot himself between, her heels making their height difference nearly invisible as he stands and sets his hands on either side of her thighs, his nose brushing against hers as he steals a kiss. One. His mouth nearly hangs open at the sight, the way she’s seducing him in broad daylight in their office, the romance never lost between the two. “Carson asked me on a date, this weekend.”

Harry hates to admit that he loves the jealousy, because that would point towards the toxicity that she hates and complains to him about, but truthfully, he loves when her eyes grow a little wider and her lips press into this straight line that has him wanting to drag his thumb across her bottom lip and pulling her the pink plumpness from between her teeth. Jolene’s reaction is exactly what Harry anticipated, the angry stare and the way her lip is bitten between her teeth. All of it, everything, is exactly what Harry anticipated, what Harry wanted.

This would certainly be one of those situations.

“Oh,” is all she says, trying to fight the urge to grab his chin and kiss him once more, to kiss him hard and soft all at once, to claim her territory and remind him who he really loves being with. “Nice. Carson’s young, only twenty-two. Didn’t know you were into that, Mr. Thirty.”

“All that had to be said was a sweet decline, sweetheart,” Harry says, taking her chin between his index finger and thumb and pressing his lips to hers in three kisses. Two. Three. Four. “My baby is jealous of a younger girl. My sweetheart. Tell me, is there anything to make it better, Miss Taylor?”

“Quit teasing me about it, and we’ll see,” she says quickly, shaking her head and leaning off the desk, walking around the wooden table and nearing the closed door. Harry’s assistants know better than to leave without shutting the door when anyone comes into his office, especially Miss Taylor. “Came in here to tell you that you have to be in for my meeting, today. Have everyone in there to talk about everything with the new interns coming in when the new year starts.”

“Okay.” Harry looks at Jo with stars in his eyes, whilst Jo nearly passes out from the way Harry’s staring and how much it’s driving her mad that she can’t take him right then and there. “I think it’s incredibly sexy that you’re jealous of a twenty-two-year-old, right now. Can’t stop thinking about how you think you could ever be replaced with her. Only an idiot would make a mistake like that. Certainly not me. ‘Course she’s a lovely girl, but personally, we much prefer our women older, wiser, brunette, perky tits, you know, the works.”

Jolene stares at Harry with narrow eyes, arms folding across her chest dramatically as she leans against the door to leave his office, her forehead leaning against the frame as she looks at him with confusion written across her features. “We?”

“Me and my friend that you are well acquainted with.”

“Harry Styles, you are absolutely ridiculous. Childlike, really.”

“Considering you’re sayin’ this, and yet, it’s still my birthday and you’re still going to have sex with me,” Harry says dryly, a twinge of amusement etched into his tone, “I think you don’t care all that much. Or you think I’m funny. Care to tell me which it is?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “Get to work, Harry. Have a meeting with all our employees in an hour that you have to be at.”

“Come on, love,” he teases, puckering his lips and standing on his feet and walking towards the door to meet her halfway. “Kiss before you leave?”

“Harry Styles, you’re so dramatic, you could’ve been an actor,” she swears, smirking into his touch when his fingers grab her chin and tilt her face towards his, kissing her sweetly and quickly, enough to barely taste the gloss still lingering on her lips. “That’s more than three, Mr. Styles.”

“Don’t really give a shit,” Harry says with a shrug, earning an eye roll from his girl and a tug to his hair. And the next sentence spilled from his tongue sends Jolene, Harry, and Carson, who is walking through the door unexpectedly, through the ringer. “I’ll kiss my girlfriend whenever I choose to, Miss Taylor. And I doubt you’ll have an issue with that.”

“I, um, I’m so sorry, I should’ve knocked.” Carson hurriedly leaves the room, wide eyes and bright pink cheeks, all of her suspicions suddenly confirmed and her embarrassment overwhelming through her veins. “I’m so sorry, again,” she says, poking her head in slightly after Harry’s let go of Jo’s face and laid his hand on her waist to make sure she wouldn’t run away. “I’ll go.”

“Carson,” Harry says sternly, and immediately the young girl turns around and is silent, “this stays between us three, yeah?” Carson nods hurriedly, her cheeks bright red, and her mouth glued shut. “That’s settled.”

“Even on your birthday, you find a way to be on my shit list,” she says, smacking his shoulder and turning around, rolling her eyes when he grabs her wrist and yanks her into his chest. “Know that I hate when you call me that. Especially to my face.”

“Could you be any more fuckin’ ridiculous?” Harry moans, wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her to his chest, his lips curled near her ear, whispering, watching as goosebumps shiver along her skin at the sensation. “Get over it. Our relationship moved way past fucking about a year and a half ago. Maybe you should think about it. Otherwise, yeah, I’ll go out with someone that’s not you, this weekend.” Harry lets her go, nodding his head towards the door and walking towards his desk, sitting silently as she stands there gawking with her jaw agape. “Go, Miss Taylor. Heard me loud and clear. Have a meeting in thirty and I need to get ready.”

And Harry barely says a word to her for the rest of the day. That drives Jolene absolutely insane.

Only words that were spoken indirectly at her were when they were in the meeting for their review of the interns coming in and their respective roles within the departments and the marketing directors were talking quietly in the background, likely something to say about the gossip flying around that an assistant saw the two executives kissing in his office – not that he minded the rumors because then it meant the men in the office would stop flirting with his girlfriend – and Harry got angry all too quickly. Harry and his anger, Jo always said, reacted far too quickly for their own good.

Harry stood on his feet, looked directly at the Marketing Directors, Lauren and Beth, and said, “Do you think what Miss Taylor has to say doesn’t pertain to you, Miss Ivy and Miss Lockley? Is that what this is? Last time I checked, this presentation was in regard to all departments of Bode London, which would include Marketing. Would it not? Am I mistaken, here?”

Lauren and Beth looked absolutely ghostly afterwards, taking notes on the company computers and asking questions regarding their interns and never taking their eyes off their executives at the front of the table. “No, sir,” Lauren said shakily, turning back to her notes and writing quickly.

Lunch is the first time Harry and Jo speak since the meeting. Lunch, their only alone time beyond mornings before their assistants get in, is set with a date at a quaint sushi restaurant in the city, one that she’s taken him to before, one that has been a location for their secretive dates many a times. Harry gives Jo his jacket on the back of her chair, knowing she always gets cold, and takes a seat across from her, their feet toying with each other beneath the table as the waiter comes and takes their order, politely interrupting their mindless conversation about the day and the business that would take over the remainder of their day. Her fingertips toy with the rings on his fingers, particularly the initial rings that she bought him from Gucci only a year before that he has yet to take off. His rings are what make his hardened demeanor, she thinks, the coldness to the touch that makes him seem so much more rogue and angrier than he truly is.

Coming from her perspective, at least.

“Thank you for standing up for me during the meeting, today,” she says softly, intertwining their fingers and squeezing his hand lovingly. “Lauren and Beth only listen to me when I’m reaming their department for doing something wrong.”

“Hardly makes sense,” Harry says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Makes more sense to listen to the COO of the company than the department chair, and yet those two won’t listen to you.”

“’s because you’re more, assertive, with everyone than me,” she says delicately, trying hard to not offend him any further than she might already have earlier on in the morning. “Assertive is a nice way to say it.”

“Nice way of calling me an ‘asshole’, sweetheart,” Harry scoffs, a breathy laugh leaving his lips as he squeezes her hand again and kisses her knuckles. “Have to do what I have to do to be a good boss, though. Haven’t heard any complaints about my ‘assertiveness’, just yet. Certainly not from you.”

“That’s because I’ve always found myself attracted to the assholes, Harry,” she admits, shrugging her shoulders and squeaking when he tugs her ankles slightly and brings her chair closer to the table, their faces mere inches from each other. “More so, the assholes that are good in bed, but assholes, nonetheless.”

“Good in bed, yeah? That’s what you think of me?”

“Maybe,” she shrugs, taking a sip from her drink and licking her lips seductively, watching the way his eyes trace over her mouth and features. “Mean, that has been our relationship for nearly three years. Think that it would make sense that I think about it from time to time, you know, for reflection.”

“All right, sweetheart,” Harry teases, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. “Whatever you say.”

Harry and Jo make conversation about the upcoming New York Fashion Week until their food arrives, eating silently and occasionally sharing dishes while they discuss how they would avoid making a scene with each other and their bosses at the headquarters in the city. Harry talks about how Carson made all the arrangements and they’ll be sharing a connecting room, which makes their lives much easier when it comes to sharing a bed. Harry knows that that’s why Jo’s face turns slightly into a pout, her lips tucked into a straight line and her fork shoving her leftover rice around her dish frustratedly. Harry nearly asks her to say it out loud, to say something.

“Can’t believe Carson asked you out,” she says after a moment, leaning back in her seat and tucking her arms across her chest. “’m not jealous, ‘m just pissed. Quite unprofessional, if you ask me.”

“Couldn’t us having sex be considered the same?”

“Mean, yeah, but.” Her thoughts scatter at the end of the sentence, barely forming a coherent thought before saying, “Maybe I should talk to her.”

“Getting another one of my assistants to quit because you intimidated them? No way. Not happening, Jolene. Not a chance in hell. Carson is actually a good assistant,” Harry says quickly, barely giving her a chance to finish her sentence and thought. “All because you’re jealous, no way.”

“Harry, I am not intimidating. I’m not!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Harry says teasingly, shaking his head and clicking his tongue dramatically, “You are, singlehandedly, the most intimidating woman I have ever met.”

“Didn’t make Elizabeth quit, last year,” she says under her breath, quickly taking the check from the waiter and giving her credit card, shaking her head when his eyes narrow at her warningly. “Of her own volition, her resignation said so.”

“That was after you spoke to her about flirting in the work environment,” Harry laughs, brushing his fingers through his hair and staring longingly at the woman in front of him. “’s okay to be jealous, sweetheart. Quite obvious that you are, and it’s a bit hot, if ‘m honest.”

“Harry Styles, you are demented,” she mutters breathily, her toes and heel dragging along his calves and drawing a circle on his thigh. “Only a sick bastard would think that the girl he’s fucking being jealous the way we are is hot.”

“Call me sick.”

Leaning back in her chair, Jo stares at Harry up and down, taking in the smirk on his features and the way his arms are mimicking hers across his chest. “Maybe, just maybe, I think you’re hot. Maybe. Certainly, it’s not set in stone.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe, I think you’re hot, too. Maybe.”

Going between Harry defending her at the meeting and teasing her at lunch, Jo was left with being unable to think about anything but taking him in the backseat of his car. Makes sense as to why the two make a break for the vehicle in the lot and their private hiding spot on the highest level of the garage.

“Fuckin’ infuriating, you are,” Harry groans, breathing heavily as she grinds her hips beautifully on his, the steam on the tinted windows blockading the view of her turtleneck tugged over her torso and the scent of their sex and sweat and – may they say it – love overwhelming their senses. “Fuck, I’m in love with you, though. I bloody am.”

Harry’s certainly never said that before.

“’cuse me?”

“Heard me loud and fuckin’ clear, sweetheart,” Harry groans, taking control and moving his thumb along her nerves between her thighs, desperately seeking their releases and the feeling of her tightening around him. “That’s it, baby. Move on me.”

“Can’t believe you said you love me,” she says, swiveling her hips and slowly sinking on his cock and grinding deeply, her toes curling with the sensation of his fingertips on her clit and his shaft reaching her hilt. “Fuck, you fuck me so good, Harry.”

“Tell me you love me.”

Harry is so deep inside her, so thick and full and mesmerizing, that she nearly says it. Nearly. “I love, love fucking you. Love being with you.”

“Tell me you love me,” Harry says again, wrapping his arm around her waist and grabbing her throat lightly, the moan that leaves her tongue enough to make him orgasm, right then and there. “Know that you do.”

Unable to even give a warning, the intensity of Harry’s hand around her throat and the confession he’s given her, the way she feels so full of him and his love and his cock, Jo clenches around him, her orgasm spilling over her with bright white lights and flashing stars behind her hooded eyes, heavy breathing and intense sensations tingling her senses. Harry spills into her without warning, the feeling of her tightening around him almost too much to bear with the emotions of the heightened confession.

“You’re right, Harry,” she admits in a cloudy haze, her forehead laying on his shoulder and her heart beating rapidly in her chest, the breathing heavy and erratic. “I think I might.”

“Might what, sweetheart. Say it.”

“Might love you.”

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Confessions in the car after sex are not typically where Harry envisioned saying the three most important words to Jolene for the first time. Actually, it was the last place Harry imagined it to happen for himself. However, there he was, blissfully vulnerable midway through sex with the love of his life – he had every right to admit that, now – when his mouth was spewing the words before the filter in his brain could check the situation. Making matters worse – or better, depending on which one you’re asking – Harry was vulnerable with Jo, who drunkenly admitted that she may or may not love him, too.

Office hours from then on were a buzz and a blur, the remainder of the day working quite quickly and everyone seeming to leave the two alone for the lack of a better word. Lauren and Beth made personal apologies to Miss Taylor after lunch; Miss Taylor, naturally, accepting the somewhat forced apology and thanking the girls for their hard work with the upcoming interns, and apologizing for Mr. Styles’ harsh attitude. Harry could hear everything Jo was saying to the girls through his office wall. He stayed silent through their final meetings online with the overseas headquarters in New York City, letting Jo talk mostly about the upcoming advantages of their new office and all the expansions that are looking towards happening in the new year. For Harry and Jo, there was an entirely big win in the company. Having interns and a raise and an upgrade throughout the office for all their employees. All of their employees would be receiving a holiday bonus from the hard work and dedication their office gave throughout the year for the new launches, especially their newest winter collection. All of their work was paying off with highest regards and it was due for celebration.

Coming back to their apartment building, however, was awfully and uncomfortably silent, hands on their individual thighs, not holding each other as they typically do, Harry staring directly out the window at the road and Jo humming along to the radio that usually is never on. Harry wanted to say something, anything, but the silence stayed, and she had her time to think about all that was said in the heat of the moment hours ago. Jo wanted Harry to say something, to say that he meant it or that he didn’t, to at least give some idea as to what the words meant in the heat of the moment, and what they mean, right now. Harry almost thinks that Jo won’t spend the night with him, that his birthday was ruined by his stupid confession, only to be debunked when there is a light knocking at his front door and a very naked – underneath the trench coat, he would soon find out – lover is standing outside with three neatly wrapped gifts in her arms.

“Going to continue gawking or will you let me in? ‘s bloody freezing, out here,” she says teasingly, the heels on her feet – the one’s he bought her as a gift because he was obsessed with the way they would look on her legs – clicking against the linoleum as she walks inside his vast apartment, the windows open wide and spacious with views of the city, windows that she’s surely been pressed up against once or twice. “Come on, Birthday Boy. Quit staring at me like that.”

“Can’t help myself,” Harry says to her with all honesty, absolutely obsessed with the woman standing in front of him. “Is this all for me, sweetheart? Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

“Open your presents so you can open your other present,” she says sternly and seductively, her eyes rolling as she lays the gifts on the coffee table in the living room and takes a seat on the sofa, her legs crossed over her thighs, hiding the red, silk lingerie adorning her body beneath the coat. “Go on, Harry. These gifts have been collecting dust in my apartment for weeks.”

Harry looks at her and looks at the gifts, and suddenly decides that he can’t wait any longer to have her underneath him. Harry takes her hand, gently yanking her into his chest, a yelp leaving her lips in surprise as his arms reach beneath the coat and under her backside, lifting her onto his waist and carrying her to his bedroom, her head hitting the door slightly as he shuts the bedroom door and hurriedly kisses her, his tongue tasting every inch of her mouth and moaning as she laces her fingers through his hair and tugs the way he loves. He slowly lets her on the ground, her heels staying on, squeezes her ass, and smacks her cheek in the way she loves, rubbing lightly over the red mark surely to be left there in the morning.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” she whispers against his lips, kissing him once more before taking two steps away, gently untying the trench coat and waiting for him to sit on the mattress before fully unveiling the outfit. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Holy fucking shit,” Harry moans, reaching out and taking her hand in his. “Look at you, sweetheart. Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Harry’s painfully hard in his trousers, needing something to relieve the tightness in his briefs while staring at her, in the gorgeous lingerie that he’s making a mental note not to tear simply so he can see her in it, again and again. “Miss Taylor, you’re so bloody hot. Make it simply impossible to resist you.”

“All yours, Birthday Boy,” she says, brushing her fingers through his hair and bringing their lips together, kissing him sweetly, straddling his waist and slowly inching him to lay on his back. “Can do whatever you want to me.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry groans, his hand immediately reaching between their bodies and dragging his finger over what should be fabric covering her warmth, instead, his thumb makes contact with her arousal and her slit. “Hold on, are these crotchless? Have to be fuckin’ kidding me. All for me, baby? Can’t believe you did this all for me.”

“All for you,” she hums happily, a tiny moan leaving her tongue when his thumb makes contact with her clit and circles the bundle of nerves lightly. “’Cause, you know, ’m in love with you.”

And with that, Harry halts everything that he’s doing and was going to do. “’xcuse me?”

“Heard me loud and clear, Mr. Styles,” she says, reaching behind her and going to take silk from her chest, only to have his hand lay flat on her back and bring her tighter into his body. “Not going to say it, again. Got it twice on your birthday.” Harry smiles widely, the widest smile she’s ever seen, the way his dimples are indenting his cheeks making her want to cry with love for the man in front of her.

Jo isn’t sure what changed her mind. Maybe, she thinks, it was the silence on the way home that felt almost threatening to their demise, to their end, or the way she was wrapping his presents and realized that she bought things he mentioned nearly a year ago that she’s been on the hunt for ever since. Maybe, it’s the way she can’t imagine her life without him in it, without his affection and his laughter and his smile and those green eyes that she absolutely adores. Maybe, it was a culmination of all of those things, but it mainly centered around the idea that she couldn’t lose him because a younger woman came along and asked him on a date before she was ready to commit to him officially, in the way he wanted. All of this showed her how easy it would be to lose him, to lose him to someone she knows, which would’ve made it hurt more.

And that was the very last thing Jo every wanted to feel with Harry – the feeling of losing him.

“’m so in love with you,” he says against her mouth, kissing her deeply, passionately, as though this would be their last kiss for the century. He lifts her slightly to lay her beneath him, his hands roaming around her body delicately, smoothly, soaking in the way her skin feels beneath him. “’ve waited two bloody years to tell you that.”

“Oh yeah,” she teases, her fingers playing with the buttons on his trousers and pushing the material down his legs, his cock hard against his stomach when his briefs are shoved to his thighs. “Figured you would’ve told me sooner if you were that in love with me, Harry.”

“Hard to be vulnerable with you, sometimes, baby. Make me nervous, you do,” Harry says, his mouth attached to her neck, kissing and suckling on her skin, carefully avoiding making any lingering marks, his hands ghosting along her body and gently rubbing over her breasts, yanking the cups over her and kissing along the valley between her chest, his mouth puckering around her pert nipple and sucking, his teeth barely grazing over her and causing a moan from her throat. “Fuckin’ hell, your moans are so hot.”

“Harry,” she groans, absolutely insatiable with the feeling of his fingertip drawing on her nerves between her thighs, the sensation of his mouth on her breasts and his fingertips curling inside her core making every sense tingle on her skin, in her body, her eyes squeezing shut as the warmth radiates through her and begins coiling in her stomach, her climax growing quickly and giving little warning. “Harry, fuck me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry. ’m going to fuck you like our lives are counting on it,” Harry hums into her chest, slinking further down her body and attaching his mouth to her clit, swirling his tongue around her nerves the way she loves and the way that sends her over the edge, the curling of his fingertips and the sensation of his tongue making her orgasm overwhelm her before she can properly say so. “That’s my good girl. Cumming so hard for me.”

His trousers and briefs are discarded over the side of the mattress, his eyes fixated on the way her chest is heaving with heavy and panted breaths, her mascara is slightly running down her cheeks from tears and sweat, and her lipstick is smeared across her mouth. Her thighs are shaking, her eyelids halfway shut as she takes in her breaths and moans when his hands find her calves and gently massage the tense muscles that were, only minutes ago, thrown over his shoulders. “Only need a minute, okay? Got me good on that one, Harry.”

Harry laughs at that, nodding his head understandingly and kissing her cheek. Harry laughs because if they were being honest with themselves, they would have to admit that Jo looks absolutely fucked out, and Harry is in love with it, with her.

Harry licks his fingers clean, humming contently at the taste, and then mumbles, “Let me know when you’re ready, ‘cause m’cock is throbbing.” Her head shakes as she giggles, her eyes shut and her heart warm and tingly as she sits on her elbows, reaching for him to lean over her and assume where he always is above her. “’s not m’fault you make me painfully hard.”

“Mr. ‘I’m in Love with You’ is hard for me, aw. That’s so sweet of you,” she teases, intertwining their fingers and lifting her head slightly to meet his mouth in a tender kiss. “Fuck me already, Harry.”

Harry nods along, laying his forearms around her head and squeezing their intertwined fingers harder, his cock smoothly sinking into her core, the way her legs wrap around his waist and her heels dig into his backside making him moan in pleasure. Her eyes are squeezed shut with ecstatic enjoyment, her back arching to meet his thrusts, his shaft thrusted so fully inside of her that she can feel every ridge and vein, every sensation making the experience so much more pleasurable for her. Harry slowly releases one hand and lays the fingertips around her neck in the way she loves, the gasp and moan that leaves her slightly parted lips telling him how much she’s enjoying being fucked by him. Having all the emotions rushing through him, it reminds him of the very first time he woke with her in his arms, that he woke with her heavy on his chest and her mouth breathing on his skin.

Harry is thrusting into her, now, two years later, professing his love for her, saying that he never wants to be with anyone else as long as she’s in his arms. On the verge of tears, she is saying that she’s perfectly okay with that as long as it’s him and him only in her life. Orgasms come quickly like that, the tightness of their bodies and the heat and the pleasure that encompasses the two overwhelming their senses and tingling their bones.

Making for the sweetest release they’ve ever known, together.

“Quit thinking so hard about it,” she says later that evening, brushing her fingers through his hair and breathing in his scent above her. All of Harry’s weight is on her, heavy on her chest, his shaft still inside her, warm and soft. “Thinking about when we first started this, aren’t you? Always get the same damn look on your face.”

“Look like what, sweetheart? Are you tryin’ to say somethin’? Quite rude if you ask me.”

Harry is thinking about that day. He thinks about it often. Harry felt different, that day. Not a bad different, but different. Like something had happened that changed his whole life.

His whole demeanor was changing, was shifting, in that time that he was laying there that morning, with the feeling of this woman on his chest. This woman that Harry felt genuinely attracted to. Then, in that very moment, he realized what it was. Truthfully, it wasn’t that Harry had sex – he had had sex plenty of times for a twenty-seven, nearly twenty-eight, year old man. The thing was who Harry had sex with this time around. Harry had sex with his coworker, his neighbor, his crush, his friend.

Harry had sex with Jo. Harry had sex with Jo, and the sex was fantastic.

“Always look the same when you think about it! That’s all! Christ almighty,” she grumbles, rolling her head to the side and checking the time on his alarm clock beside his bed. “Chinese should be here soon. Going to let me borrow some clothes?” Her voice goes silent for a moment, not necessarily waiting for him to answer. “Could I answer the door naked? That okay with you, Mr. Styles?”

“Over my dead body, Miss Taylor,” Harry mocks, shaking his head and gently pulling himself out of her warmth, throwing the blanket over his back and reaching in his bedside table for a shirt and two sets of briefs, one for him and one for her. “Only one seeing you naked is me, sweetheart. Don’t you forget it.”

Jo rolls her eyes at Harry, reaching towards the shirt and bringing it over her head. Her lingerie was discarded on his floor of his bedroom on their way to the bathroom, where they shared the tiny space and took their time wiping off the makeup that was smeared across their skin and inspecting the marks that would be making their appearance within a few hours, a bruise or two on her collarbone and a bright red love bite on her neck that would have to be covered with a turtleneck the following week. Not that she minded all that much. Marks always reminded her that someone she loves – she could say that now – wanted her so badly.

Jo never minded Harry’s jealous side all too much. Truthfully, she enjoyed it. Made her feel wanted and loved, even if they never said the words before today. That’s why she would tease him about dates and going naked and gawking at other men, to rile him slightly and see his reaction, and his reaction was always what she wanted and never any less. Goes the same for her with Harry, as well. That was shown when Harry mentioned Carson asking Harry out. Harry certainly didn’t need to tell her, but he did for a reason. Making her jealous always led to the best sex of his life, he swore by it.

Certainly, that’s what Harry got today.

“Thank you so much,” Jo says to the delivery man, taking the Chinese food and signing the check for his delivery tip. “Have a great weekend.” Harry is right behind her, waiting and inspecting the man at the door, making him awfully uncomfortable with his stares. Harry could tell that the boy wanted to stare at her bare chest, her nipples showing through the white shirt and the briefs barely covering her backside. “Go inside,” she says to him, handing him the bags and shutting the door behind her. “Have you always got to be so close?”

“Only when teenagers are checking out what’s mine,” Harry says flatly, setting everything on the counter and beginning to take out the plastic containers one by one. “Speaking of. Am I allowed to call you my girlfriend, now?”

“And why would you call me that?”

Harry laughs breathily, setting his fork and knife on the cloth mat and bringing their food to the table for the two to share. “Tell me you’re joking, Jo. Have to be.”

“Harry, we can’t date,” she says seriously, shaking her head and leaning against the counter as she stares at him, turning around slightly to reach for the wine and the glasses in his cabinets and walking towards the table where he’s sitting down and turned around to face her.

Harry isn’t having it. He really isn’t. “And why not? Give me one good reason and I’ll leave it alone.”

“Have you ever thought that we might get fired from our company?” she says dramatically, shaking her head and frustratedly pouring her wine into a glass and setting in front of where her food is already made on her dish. “Our company clearly states that dating within the working environment is forbidden.”

“That’s for interns, sweetheart. That’s what they told us as interns. Have you believed that’s the case since then? Honey, you’re the COO of Bode London. As much as I hate to say it this way, you can do whatever the fuck you want, and you could get away with it,” Harry tells her with all sincerity, absolutely floored by the idea that she still believes something they were told as interns to have their work stay professional and courteous within the company guidelines and policy. “Is that the only reason you won’t date me? Honestly?” Jo’s shrug and silence are all Harry needs for an answer. “God, you fuckin’ infuriate me sometimes. Are you always this god damn stubborn?”

“Always,” she says, shaking her head and pursing her lips together in a tight line, shrugging her shoulders as if to say, not really sure what you want from me. “Harry, you knew what you were getting yourself into with me. Told you that from the get-go that I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Not to mention that you didn’t want a relationship. That you had just gotten out of one and only wanted something without strings. Considering we’d be dating, that would be strings attached.”

“That’s fair,” Harry says softly, scratching at the back of his neck and thinking carefully about what he’s going to say next. His lover looks like she’s fighting back tears and that would be the third time he’s ever seen her cry, and he certainly doesn’t want that when he’s trying to convince her to be his girlfriend. “And I know this isn’t what I wanted at first, but it’s what I want, now. I want you, Jo. I really want you. Can say it in a million different ways but it’ll all mean the same thing.”

“Am I supposed to say ‘yes’ without even thinking about it? Couldn’t this affect my career? That’s something I care about, Harry. That’s my number one priority. That and, well, you,” she says shyly, hiding the blush on her cheeks with the glass of wine sitting in her hand, her eyes staring at the bright smile on his face as she takes a light sip and lets the alcohol settle on her tongue. “Getting all smiley on me. Quit it.”

“Quit saying you won’t date me, then,” he says sternly, standing on his feet and holding out his hand, bringing her into his chest when she grabs his hand and holding her chin between his fingertips, their heights barely making a difference when he looks slightly down at her. “Quite simple fix, sweetheart. All you have to do is say the word.”

“And if something happens,” she says nervously, her eyes flickering between his mouth and his bright green eyes that she finds herself mesmerized by every day, “you won’t fire me, you won’t demote me. Need to know that my career won’t be affected by us, Harry. Might be rumors going around, and if there are rumors that you and me being together got me my career, you better shut that quickly.”

“Couldn’t you see how quickly those two women in Marketing were shut down today for not listening to you? Imagine the scene I’d make if I heard someone saying you didn’t deserve to be where you are, or that you’re only there because of me. Obviously, you wouldn’t have to worry about something like that, sweetheart. Not in my nature to not defend you,” Harry adds, shaking his head and kissing her hairline, swaying slightly to the quiet hum of the music playing in his head.

“Gifts!” Harry’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion, his lips pursing in a straight line as he tries to follow what Jo is saying and why she’s nearly running towards his foyer, walking in with three large gifts and setting the neatly wrapped presents on the counter. “Go on,” she says with a smile, diverging from the original conversation and insisting on this one. “Can talk all we want afterwards.”

Harry quirks his head to the side confusedly, then sighs and gives in her to wishes, gently peeling the wrapping paper and smirking to himself as the box begins to reveal itself to him. His favorite record player, only it’s a brand-new version, one that doesn’t skip and lag and make funny sounds. Of his favorite records, two are in limited edition with deluxe editions. His favorite author, two new books for him to devour on his breaks. “All this for me?”

“All for you,” she smiles, circling her arms around his waist and kissing his cheek. “Like it all? Anything you don’t like, we can return.”

“Love it all, sweetheart. Very thoughtful of you,” Harry smiles softly, brushing his fingers through her hair and gently bringing her head back, his lips meeting hers in a gentle kiss. “Love you.” Harry is nervous to say such a thing outside of sex, outside of the space they’re most vulnerable with each other, because he truly isn’t sure if she’ll ever say it back outside of the bedroom.

“Love you, too,” she says, waiting what feels like a year before finally saying so. “Harry, we have a lot to talk about if I’m going say ‘yes’ to dating you. There’s more to this than us simply dating. Our work life, our careers are inevitably going to be affected by this. Honestly, we can’t pretend anymore, we’ll have to tell our bosses and we’ll have to pray that they don’t say we can’t and then we’ll be properly fucked.”

“All right, sweetheart.” Harry kisses her hair, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and bringing her in for a warm hug. “Think you just agreed to date me. That means you’re my girl, my lover. Quite like the ring of that, my lover. Might start calling you that from now on. Change your contact in my phone and everything.”

“Careful there, sweet talker,” she says, narrowing her eyes and taking one step away from his body, her hands on his bare chest and thumbs gently tracing over the tattoos inked across his skin. “Haven’t said ‘yes’, yet. All of this is going to rely on what they say tomorrow. Got it?”

“Got it, lover.” Harry chuckles as she rolls her eyes, and his hands sweep under her feet, carrying her into the bedroom, where they would make love for the very first time and kiss beneath the shaded tint of the fairy lights – compliments of her – and lamplight scattered around the room.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Emily Bode and Todd Snyder have little to say in regard to Harry and Jo having a relationship, regarding it as a natural reaction to working so closely with someone for such an extended period of time, and only showing concern with the argumentative and fighting aspect of relationships being brought to the work environment and causing a scene. Harry assures Emily and Todd that nothing of the sort would or will happen, that they will remain absolutely professional as executives and anything would be left at home. Emily and Todd ask if they’re living together, to which Harry regretfully replies that they are not, and Emily can sense that there is an underlying issue to work out there while eyeing her in the frame. Harry doesn’t share, but admittedly says that they were waiting on the conversation to unfold to make a decision about where to go from there. Emily and Todd insist that if their relationship is their business, adult business, and as long as the work environment remains professional, then all is well and good. Harry thanks the two profusely, Jo staying relatively silent until expressing her gratitude and wishing the two luck at the New York Fashion Week meetings for the week. Harry and Jo would be flying out for Fashion Week with their assistants in a matter of days. Emily and Todd bid their goodbyes happily, sharing their thanks for the honesty and assuring the two that their relationship would not result in their termination. Confirmation, like that, relieves Jo slightly. Not entirely, though.

Harry gently closes his computer and takes Jo’s hand, tugging on her arm and bringing her onto his thighs to sit, his hands threading together around her waist, her arms laying over his shoulders and playing with the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “Emily and Todd said that we’re fine, sweetheart. Can see you’re still panicking over it, though.”

“Hard to imagine how much different things will be between us,” she says truthfully, rubbing her thumb along his cheek and sucking in a breath between her teeth. “Honestly, Harry, I don’t want things to change. I like how we are. Like what we have going for us.”

Harry sighs, brushing his fingers through her hair near her shoulders and laying his forehead on her shoulder, kissing her neck sweetly and nudging his arms tighter around her waist, hugging her as if to say, everything is going to be okay, without saying a word. “Our lives aren’t going to change that much, sweetheart. ‘s not like ‘m proposing to you or summat. ‘m just asking for a bit more commitment from you. Our lives together will stay exactly the same, with the only difference being that we can celebrate holidays together and go on holidays together and have more romantic things, other than sex. That’s all.”

“Holidays,” she says amusedly, laying her head against her neck lazily and scratching at his scalp in the way that he loves, bringing his face to meet hers and their eyes meeting in the same stare. “Holidays to where exactly, Mr. Styles? Have you already got something planned? Our anniversary technically wouldn’t even be for another year, if I said yes, today.”

“Our other anniversary is coming soon, Miss Taylor. Thought you might like a getaway for that,” Harry says suggestively, kissing the spot beneath her ear that makes her body squirm in his touch. “Like, Italy, maybe. Nice little getaway to Venice for us. Think I can arrange that for the weekend. How about that?”

“That sounds really nice, Harry. Only us, in a foreign country, romantic and all.”

“Only us,” Harry says affirmatively, smiling at the way her lips are quirking into a smile and her fingertips are dragging along his tie. “Have I got myself a girlfriend, then? My lover?”

“God, you’re so soft,” she says with a laugh, grabbing his cheeks and bringing his mouth to hers, kissing him deeply, their teeth gnashing together playfully as they kiss, a breathy laugh leaving his throat as a smile from her breaks their kiss. “My soft boy.”

“Man,” Harry corrects, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. “Call me soft all you want, but at least call me a man. ’m thirty for fuck’s sake.”

Quiet knocks on the office door bring the two lovebirds out of their little argument, Carson opening the door and trying to hide her wide eyes as she says, “Meetings have been shifted around so you and Miss Taylor can have lunch together, from now on.”

“Thank you, Carson,” Harry says politely, his hand gently and sneakily sliding beneath his lover’s dress, her hand immediately smacking against his arm and holding his wrist. “That’ll be all for now.” Carson excuses herself quietly and awkwardly, very much aware what Harry was trying to feel beneath his lover’s dress. “Going to let me feel beneath the dress during lunch?”

“Maybe, Mr. Styles. Maybe.”

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15-dogs · 3 years

Text

read my mind |n.s.|

pairing: newt scamander x reader

summary: newt’s thoughts seem to a lot louder than his words (fluff fluff fluff so much fluff)

warnings: none

guide: (Y/N) = your name

word count: 1.2K

a/n: more newt fics? yes ma’am!!

The cafe was loud. Not too loud that you couldn’t hear someone speak, but loud enough that any whispers or mumbles would be swallowed up whole by the noise. For that reason, Queenie had pressed you, Tina, Newt, and Jacob into a small booth far away from the noise, although the shouts still infiltrated from time to time.

“Isn’t this nice?” Queenie asked, leaning in towards the group. Jacob nodded with a bright grin which made Queenie giggle, while the rest of you simply flashed awkward smiles at her.

You and your boyfriend, Newt, had returned to New York to visit his friends. It wasn’t the first time you had met them, but it was the first time he had introduced you as his girlfriend. You’d been in correspondence with the Goldstein sisters, updating them about your rapidly developing relationship with the man beside you. You’d be coming up on 4 months together which seemed unreal, seeing as how you never believed you would get together in the first place.

It had been a long and bumpy road of awkward flirting and flustered confessions, eventually leading you to where you were then. Yet, every time you looked up at Newt, you felt an immense sense of pride swell in your chest, making the months of teasing at what was to come worth it.

Newt struggled to pay attention to Jacob’s story as he kept sending you anxious glances over his shoulder. The noise was intimidating, to say the least, and you knew how difficult it could be for him to make a move. Your lips twitched up into a smile before slowly extending a pinky to interlock with his underneath the table, giving him the confidence he needed to take your hand fully into his.

Even though it had been nearly 4 months since you started dating, Newt still acted shy around you, like he was afraid to make the first move. It was only really when you had complete privacy did Newt reveal his true, affectionate colors. He would often write you notes about how much he loved you before he left for a trip or wrap his arms around you from behind and tell you just how perfect you were.

But your favorite thing of all were all the kisses. He was no stranger to taking your hand during meals and pressing kisses to your knuckles. Before scurrying to his basement for work, Newt would tilt your head and place a chaste kiss to your lips and then one to your hairline. After finishing his work for the day, he would come back upstairs and kiss your cheek a thousand times over. If his day was long and you decided to visit him downstairs, he would press a kiss to the inside of your wrist all the way up to your fingers.

Needless to say, Newt was a very affectionate person. However, when in public, that entire side of him ran away, leaving him with a boy who was too scared to hold your hand. Sometimes you had to wonder what he was thinking about inside that big brain of his.

You turned your head to study your boyfriend and he did the same, the blankness behind his eyes being replaced by caged adoration. Newt was on edge, as if he wanted to tell you something important but couldn’t get the words out. You opened your mouth to prod him when you were cut off by Queenie coughing on her drink, Jacob running a hand down her back soothingly.

“Congratulations!” she cried as she clasped her hands together. She was practically bouncing up and down in her seat; you had always appreciated her enthusiasm.

However, when you noticed her enthusiasm was directed towards you and Newt, you frowned. You turned behind you in a lame attempt to see if you had mistaken her words for you but no, you had interpreted her looks correctly.

“Congratulations?” you repeated. “On what?

“Your engagement!” she squealed, her head tipping back with an enthused cackle.

Everyone at the table started spewing out celebratory exclamations towards the news which just happened to be news to you as well. You turned to see your boyfriend, your eyes wide and begging for an explanation. Newt whipped around towards Queenie, the tips of his ears turning red.

Before anyone could explain the matter at hand, Tina pulled you into a hug. “I had no idea you were engaged!”

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips and was muffled by her hair. “Neither did I!”

The once raucous celebration died down into mumbles until it reached complete silence. You could feel the three pairs of eyes on you and Newt, seemingly boring into you to ask what had happened. Finally, Newt spoke up.

“I-I’m sorry, Queenie, but please don’t read my mind.”

Queenie let out a breathy gasp, a delicate hand resting over her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Newt. I didn’t...I didn’t even realize I had. You just have a lot of emotions right now and they’re...loud.”

Queenie looked genuinely sorry for the accident. Jacob was holding her hand in both of his, pressing a kiss to them every few minutes as they waited for you and Newt to say something. Tina initiated conversation with the rest of the group to distract them from the tension building but none of them could truly focus on the words that were being said. Their eyes would dart towards the both of you every few minutes, their conversations lulling for a moment or two before being picked back up with false vigor.

You turned towards Newt, his eyes glued on everything but yours. You frowned before tilting his head up the same way he would do yours and planted a kiss to his lips.

“I love you, Newt,” you murmured against his lips. It wasn’t the first time you had uttered those words, but it began to carry a different meaning than before. One of promise and security-- one of a future.

“I love you, too.” His voice was meek from shock.

“I’m going to fetch us some drinks. Would you lot like anything?” you offered as you slid out of your seat.

The group rattled off orders while tossing some muggle money towards you. As you walked over to the counter, Newt’s eyes stayed trained on you, wondering exactly what you were thinking after hearing what he had been.

“Mrs. Scamander,” interrupted Queenie. Newt’s attention was stolen away for a moment at those words.

“What?”

“It’s what she keeps repeating. Mrs. Scamander. Mrs. (Y/N) Scamander. She won’t stop saying it.”

You glanced over your shoulder, your lips curling upwards as your gaze landed on Newt. And for once he couldn’t hide his affections towards you. He got up from his seat and joined you at the counter, his arm wrapping around your waist to tug you impossibly closer to him. One of his calloused hands trailed down your arm until it landed on your left hand, dancing around your barren ring finger. Newt lifted your hand to place a kiss to it and for the first time without it being said aloud, you knew exactly what he meant.

I’m going to change that.

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

general taglist: @pandaxnienke @lunalovecroft @for-bebbanburg

#newt scamander #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander fanfiction #newton artemis fido scamander #queenie goldstein #tina goldstein #jacob kowalski #porpentina goldstein #legilimency #legilimens queenie #newt scamander fluff #established relationship

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ukeishin · 3 years

Text

— quiet confessions

— synopsis: aone doesn’t talk much. that’s not a problem.

— ft. aone takanobu.

— warning: none

— note: this is a repost from an old blog of mine!!!

⤷ main page

As classmates, you’re bound to notice certain things.

Aone sits two seats ahead of you to the left. His desk is nestled right in the corner by the window, granting you a near perfect view of his side profile when he tilts his head to look at the board. Like clockwork, Aone comes into class about five minutes before the early morning bell rings. He greets your sensei with a nod and then takes his seat, pulling out a notebook, last night’s homework, and a singular pencil and an eraser. He’s a good student, always paying close attention to whatever lecture your sensei is giving while you choose to halfheartedly listen while drifting off. Nobody could blame you, class was just so boring sometimes. You had spent so much time zoning out during class that you had picked up on Aone’s little habits. On exam days, he rubs his forefinger and thumb against each other, a sign that he’s anxious. When he has a hard time following what Sensei is explaining, his usual frown deepens and his eyebrows pinch together. When he’s deep in thought, he fiddles with his pencil.

One thing that was glaringly obvious to you was that Aone never spoke in class. Participation wasn’t a major part of your overall grade, but Sensei did have a tendency to call on people randomly when nobody was willing to volunteer. Never once had your sensei called on Aone to answer a question and never once had he volunteered. Your sensei’s eyes would pass over Aone’s figure before calling on another one of your classmates instead. You don’t necessarily have an issue that Aone is able to escape the mandatory participation imposed by Sensei, but it’s something you do find to be curious.

It’s not something you quite understand until you accidentally walk into the gym during his volleyball practice.

You swore your friend had told you that she was practicing in Gym A. Peeking your head into the gym through the cracked door, you realize you either got it mixed up or she told you the wrong gym. The boys’ volleyball team is huddled around a large white-board going over what you assume are game plays. You’re about to push the door open more and ask if they know what gym the girls’ team is practicing in when you become acutely aware of how quiet it is. The only sounds you hear are the squeaking of their shoes against the floor and heavy breathing. Looking closer at the group, you can see Futakuchi’s hands are moving in a flurry of hand motions as he glares at your kohai, Koganegawa. They’re signing, you realize. Your brows knit together as you think ‘since when did Futakuchi have the patience to learn sign language?’ They’re all signing with one another, even Koganegawa, whose motions are clumsy even to your untrained eyes. You feel like you’re intruding on something and you’re just about to turn around and wander around aimlessly on campus in search of your friend when you trip over nothing, causing you to push the door open with a screech that echoes throughout the gym.

All their eyes are suddenly glued to you as you struggle to stand up straight again.

“Ah, sorry! I was looking for where the girls are practicing today and my friend told me it was this gym,” you apologize in a rush to explain that you were not just some creep who was watching them the whole time.

“Gym B.” Your eyes widen in shock when Aone answers your implied question. It looks like you’re not the only one surprised when his teammates turn to glance at him.

“Thank you Aone! See you in class tomorrow!” With a wave over your shoulder, you rush out of the gym. That was the first time you’ve ever heard Aone speak. His voice is nice: deep and monotone with a slight rasp to it presumably from disuse. You shake your head in an attempt to stop your train of thought, but even when you’re sitting outside gym B waiting for your friend’s practice to end, your mind won’t stop playing the way those two words sounded falling from his lips on a loop.

Aone’s morning routine changes. You sit two seats behind him to the right and you always get to class earlier than him. He enters the classroom five minutes before the morning bell rings. He’s timed it perfectly so it’s early enough that the classroom isn’t filled with people yet. He greets Sensei with a nod before turning his head in your direction. You’re already looking at him, your eyebrows quirking upward when you make eye contact. He hesitates for a moment before bowing his head slightly. It’s comical how your brows shoot up toward your hairline before you give him a small smile.

It’s as if you’ve become hyper-aware of Aone. Sitting in the courtyard with your friends during lunch, you notice him out of the corner of your eye sitting next to Futakuchi at a table with some of the other members of the volleyball team. They’re noisy, shoving each other around while speaking loudly about their upcoming match. You can see Futakuchi’s mouth moving in sync with his hands as he talks with Aone, who opts to stay silent. They sign back and forth with one another and the realization that you make in that moment has you mentally slapping yourself. Suddenly, it hits you why Sensei never calls on Aone in class.

You go home that day and open up your laptop, searching “Japanese sign language for beginners”. It’s a few weeks later after Date Tech wins a difficult volleyball match that you approach Aone.

“Aone,” you call out, causing him to turn around from the end of the hallway. Futakuchi and the others glance your way before continuing to walk past him towards the locker room to shower and change. He peers down at you, curious as to what it is that you want. You stop right in front of him and take a deep breath. You’ve been practicing for weeks at this point, you can do this.

“Congratulations on the win,” you say while signing. Aone’s neutral expression morphs into one of mild surprise as your focus remains on your hands as you continue to clumsily sign. “Would you like to hang out together sometime?”

You’re afraid to look up at him, unsure of what his reaction is going to be. Oh god, you think, you probably messed up completely and just signed a bunch of gibberish and he probably thinks that you look like a complete and utter idiot. While your eyes remain trained on the ground, Aone stares at your hunched figure, nothing short of stunned. You really took the time to learn JSL for him? The thought ignites a flush to form across his cheeks. Your motions are definitely stiff and your signing is sloppy, but it’s understandable. A tap on your shoulder startles you from your spiraling thoughts. Looking up to meet Aone’s gaze, he simply signs one word.

‘Yes.’

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #aone x reader #aone imagine #aone x you #aone takanobu x reader #celeste.adores #adoring.aone #celeste.scribs

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laurensprentiss · 3 years

Text

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 11:

Gif Credit: @dudeitiskarev

A/N: I told you shit was going to kick tf off! Poor Hotch is not having a good day today.

Warnings: Explicit details of injury, strong language.

———

“Each meeting occurs at the precise moment for which it was meant. Usually, when it will have the greatest impact on our lives.” - Nadia Scrieva

———

‘Fitzgerald House’ sits in white letters on an antique black board at the gateway entrance. Hotch turns over the engine and peers over at the notebook in McCall’s hand, squinting at the gated estate in front of him.

They’re buzzed in by a security guard, and as they drive up, the estate expands. A pillared terrace is framed by dark brick, neatly trimmed shrubs line the circle driveway and encase a grand fountain. Behind it, a set of antique double doors are framed by more huge pillars and blossom trees umbrella the pathway.

“Are you sure this is the right address, Aaron?” Mccall asks.

He nods. “Fitzgerald House. This is it.”

They step out of the car simultaneously, looking around them, the estate more intimidating up close. There’s something cold about this place, a familiarity he identifies with all too well.

“This seem like the kind of place a twenty-something lives in?” McCall asks in disbelief.

Hotch scoffs, air leaving his nose in an exhale. “Senator Fitzgerald’s twenty-something.”

Hotch is light on his feet, feels as though he’s dirtying the kept tile pathway just by walking on it. Truth is, he’d grown up in a home like this - or spent his summers there at least. He’d felt just as uncomfortable then as he does now. He knows what kind of people are on the other side of those doors, and knows the kind of people that live here. Cold, calculating, drenched in privilege, toxicity and unbearable expectations.

Borderline abusive.

He was raised by them.

He pulls his credentials from his inside pocket and reaches for the doorbell. They take a minute or so and when there’s no answer, he makes a fist and bangs on the door with the side of it.

“Open up, FBI.”

A woman finally pulls open one of the double doors, straining almost with the weight of it, the oak creaking. She’s around 40 years old, stands at 5’4 and she’s thin, dark hair pulled back into a tight bun, greying slightly towards her hairline. A black and white apron completes her uniform.

“FBI? Can I help you?” She speaks with an accent, a thick lilt to her words. Eastern European, maybe, Hotch thinks.

“I’m Agent Hotchner, this is Agent McCall. We’re with the FBI.” They flip their credentials to show the lady, her eyes squint to read the writing on them. “And you are?”

“I’m the housekeeper. Carolina.” She says.

“Hello, Carolina. We’re looking for a Jordan Fitzgerald?” Hotch inquires with a smile.

“Oh.” She stutters and glances behind her, frozen in place.

“May we come in?”

“Yes, yes, sorry. Please, come in, I think Mr. Fitzgerald is still in bed. Just a second.”

They step into the foyer of the home, taking in the room - it’s bright and airy, a white marble staircase leading up and off into both directions sits in the middle, framed by a dark bannister. The refined marble floor, and white walls make the both of them feel uncomfortable, uneasy. Tight-lipped family portraits and oil paintings of numerous well to do ancestors line the walls, casting a disapproving eye.

To the right, is a drawing room, where Carolina seats the two men, plush leather sofas are carefully placed in front of a massive window with a view of the front garden. An oversized antique ceramic vase sits in the corner of the room, perfectly polished and buffed.

Hotch swallows uneasily, his eyes scanning the room.

They both sit tentatively, careful not to scuff the antique rug that lays below them. McCall glances at his watch and mutters to Hotch, taking care to look around so nobody hears him.

“Bed? It’s noon.”

Hotch scoffs, raising his eyebrows sarcastically. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, sees some missed calls from Haley that he skips over, shooting off a quick text to you.

Hey. Good luck with your dad today.

Talking to you is fast becoming one of the best parts of his day - he feels a little like a teenager again. His phone buzzes and he hopes it’s your name on the screen, he has a spring in his step whenever he’s on duty and he doesn’t have as much trouble waking up in the morning, knowing that you’re waiting for him.

He’s suddenly ripped from his thoughts when giggles erupt from the top of the stairs, and two sets of footsteps approach. Hotch cranes his head in unison with McCall as a blonde woman with dishevelled blonde hair and smudged eyeliner stumbles down the stairs, shirt buttons done unevenly and skirt askew.

She carries her shoes in her hands and has a purse tucked under her arm - Hotch concludes that she was probably drunk last night, the effects of which she’s still feeling now if her stumbling is any indication.

Who he assumes is Jordan, trails behind her with a grin on his face. He’s undressed with only a pair of boxer shorts covering him and a dressing gown that lays open. Hotch and McCall shoot each other a wordless look and Aaron has to fight to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Jordan surprisingly has the decency to walk his unnamed friend to the front door, who turns and plants what looks like a messy and unpleasant kiss on his mouth.

This is Jordan?

Nice.

He’s tall but still stands a couple of inches shorter than Hotch, he’s broad with brown hair and matching eyes and has a tattoo across his clavicle, which he covers up when he pulls his dressing gown closed. McCall clears his throat when the unnamed friend releases herself from Jordan’s grip and turns to leaves after having Jordan swat her ass crudely.

Jordan turns his attention then to the agents in his drawing room, padding towards them as they both stand in unison to introduce themselves. He glances at Hotch, eyes narrow, a miniscule flash of recognition appearing on his face. He subconsciously squares his shoulders and stands up a little straighter, gaze falling to the FBI badge Hotch has pinned on his lapel.

“Mr. Fitzgerald? We’re with the FBI.” McCall tells him with an outstretched hand.

Jordan takes it warmly, plastering a smile on his face. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

McCall tells him that they’re here in connection with an ongoing case regarding you, to which Jordan has surprisingly little reaction, Hotch notes.

Instead, he turns his attention to Hotch. “FBI huh?” He places his hands in his hips, an obvious attempt at trying to assert his dominance, and Hotch sees right through him. “Impressive,” he continues. “How old are you anyway, man?” His words drip with sarcasm and do nothing to veil the obvious insecurity he feels.

He unsuccessfully tries to level with Hotch, subtly tiptoeing.

Hotch’s jaw clenches as he looks down at Jordan. “24.”

He repeats Hotch’s words slowly, ignoring McCall - who finds himself frozen in place, uneasy with the almost confrontational atmosphere between his partner and Jordan.

“Wow. Someone’s ambitious. Got a lot to prove-” he flicks his badge. “Hotchner?”

Hotch finds the words on the tip of his tongue, wants to chew this asshole out for being a sleazy piece of shit, difficult and lazy. But the thing that really bothers him, the thing that makes Hotch want to give him a black eye, is the fact that at one point, you were his - and his own actions sent you running back into Jordan’s arms.

That thought makes his stomach drop, because it’s a feeling he’s wholly unfamiliar with.

Jealousy.

And he finds that most disconcerting of all.

He’s used to being able to do his job with a degree of separation and compartmentalisation, to keep his emotions in check - but he finds himself in a predicament now, one that’s becoming alarmingly clear. The lines are blurred and he knows it, no matter how hard he tries to push it down.

But he tries anyway.

He takes a deep breath and goes on. “You mind putting some clothes on, bud? We have some questions for you?” His tone is biting, condescension masked with amiability, similar to the way he would speak to a child. He tacks on the ‘Bud’ to purposely get a rise out of Jordan.

If there’s one thing he learned from his parents growing up, it was how to get under people’s skin with a smile plastered on his face, and he knew people like Jordan.

He used to be a Jordan.

Jordan steps towards Hotch, his eyes narrow, a slew of expletives on the tip of his tongue no doubt until McCall subtly steps between them. He stops in his tracks, eyes still focused on Hotch standing behind McCall.

His demeanour changes completely and suddenly, the animosity melting away to make way for his initial warm manner.

He takes a deep breath and plasters an unnerving smile on his face.

With a tilt of his head, he says, “I actually have back to back appointments today, may I come into your offices tomorrow?” His cadence sounds eloquent, polite, the way Hotch knows he was probably raised to speak.

He frowns at the rapid 180.

McCall subsequently agrees to let Jordan come into the office to keep the peace but Hotch knows better. The only appointments he would have would be with a few lines of coke and a bottle of scotch if his jaw movements and body odour were anything to go by.

Still, Ben hands him a business card and tells him to come by at around 3pm for a few questions and bids him a quick goodbye.

Hotch’s phone buzzes on his way out, a message from you telling him that you’re on your way to your father’s with Emily.

‘Oh and like three MPD officers.’’ You add. ‘One’s new I think? How’s it going with Jordan?’

A small smile creeps its way onto his face while his attention is diverted and his eyes are glued to his phone.

Jordan watches Hotch and McCall walk back down the pathway and into the car. His eyes narrow from the doorway as he gives a cursory glance to the business card he holds between his index and middle finger, and he flicks it onto the ground outside.

McCall clears his throat once they’re in the car, but Hotch’s attention is still directed at his phone. He clears his throat again, a little louder this time.

Hotch’s eyes dart up as he looks at McCall. “What?” He asks innocently, slipping the phone into the centre console.

“That who I think it is?”

“Yeah, I just checked in to see if everything was alright.” He rubs the back of his neck, a dead giveaway gesture to anyone who knew him well enough.

“Yeah? Then why do you look like that?”

“Like what-”

Without warning, McCall reaches over and pulls down the driver’s seat visor, sliding the mirror cover over. Hotch’s face is flushed, a ghost of a smile on his face, akin to a smug teenager. His guilty reflection stares back at him and stops him in his tracks. He didn’t realise he looked like that when he was thinking about you and he’s alarmed at how transparent he is.

No, he thinks. So what? It’s warm, it’s even warmer in this car.

It’s fine.

Still, he sighs, rolls his eyes. “What?” Hotch says, insistent as he turns a little in his seat.

McCall sighs deeply next to him, hesitant. “Just. Be careful.” He says, head tilting to motion to his phone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Aaron.” He says, his voice low. “I see the way you look at her. And what about that little display inside? Why were you so confrontational with Fitzgerald?”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh come on. You gotta be kidding me! You saw the way he was antagonising me-”

“-Yeah and your job is to stay calm no matter what. You’re not supposed to let people get a rise out of you, especially not if you want a place at the BAU one day. Gideon got word of you, he thinks you’re good. Prove him right.”

He sounds like an older brother lecturing him, but he has a point, Hotch thinks. Why was he so bothered by Jordan?

He knows why. He doesn’t know how much longer he can deny it.

The feelings he’d tried so hard to bury deep inside were quickly rising to the surface, faster than even he could get a handle on them. Maybe all he could do at this point was to relax his body and let the water carry him - sink or swim. The possibility of what could be, maybe it was too big to keep fighting.

He has feelings for you.

He has feelings for you despite the numerous conflicts of interest, despite the moral implications and the danger to your investigation.

He swallows dryly.

“You have feelings for her.” McCall says, mirroring his conscience.

He doesn’t know what to say back, but he certainly can’t bring himself to deny it. He’s not that good of a liar. Yet.

He just stares back at McCall whose face is etched in concern for his partner.

He has feelings for you.

———

It’s dark when you hug your father goodbye. You hadn’t realised just how homesick you’d been for him until you’d visited today, more so now as you’re about to leave.

You stand in the dreary rain and apologise again for not telling him about the restaurant incident, reassuringly rubbing his hand as you tell him you’re going to be okay.

“Really, truly.” You tell him over the patter of the rain. “I’m going to be absolutely fine. I have Emily watching over me now.”

He nods and places a kiss on your forehead. “Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I still worry.” He sighs. “Bye, baby.”

You wave to him one last time, pulling your coat closer to your body before you and Emily drive away, MPD leading the way. You glare at her, watching her avoid your looks. She grips the wheel a little tighter, and keeps glancing in the rear view mirror despite there being nothing there.

After a minute or so, she grits between her teeth, “What? I can feel you staring at me.”

“You told Dad?” You hiss. “I specifically told you not to, and you still told him?”

“I’m sorry! He asked me outright if anything had happened, what was I supposed to do? Lie?”

“Yes!” You squeal. “Yes! You’re supposed to lie if I ask you to!”

“Come on, that’s bullshit and you know it. He deserves to know that you’re okay. Think about it, what if it had been him? You’d wanna know.”

In your attempts to not worry him, you’d forgotten that you were all he had, too. Maybe he was right for holding on so tight.

“I am sorry, though. I should’ve let you tell him.” Emily whispers, glancing at you.

“No.” You shake your head and apologise too. “You were right.”

“Does he fly out tomorrow?”

“Uh, no. Tonight. Some trip that’s been scheduled for months,” you reply distracted, watching the officers in front of you.

The MPD car turns its hazard lights on, signalling to pull over on the side of the quiet road. You peer at the vehicle in front of you, confused, checking with Emily who shrugs. A text from one of the officers reads,

‘Reports of a disturbance ahead, assessing alternate route.’

“Better settle in.” You show Emily the text and relax into your seat a little better now, leaning your head against the headrest and resting your eyes as the heater runs in the background. The rain slows to a drizzle now.

She unbuckles her seatbelt to turn her seat. “Can I ask you a question?” Emily says after a while.

“Sure.” You reply, eyes remaining closed.

“You have feelings for him, don’t you?” She whispers.

“Who?” You frown.

“Hotch.”

You all but jump out of your skin. “What?!” You squeak.

Emily rolls her eyes now, embarrassed that you’re even trying to deny it. “Come on. It’s me. Don’t lie.”

Your mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words but your cheeks burn. It’s not entirely unexpected, Emily’s always been somewhat of an inner voice, a mirror that holds you accountable but you’d been quietly trying to work out your issues, the feelings you’d been having for Hotch, internally.

Had you made it that obvious? Had you made yourself look stupid and naive, pining after a guy who was so much older and settled in life?

“No of course I don’t, where is this coming from?” Your cheeks grow even hotter and you try to keep your voice even.

She rolls her eyes. “Everyone can see it.”

“See what? There’s nothing to see!”

You groan and bury your face in your hands in mortification. If everyone could see it, that meant that Hotch could too, he was on his way to being a profiler for God’s sake. He was probably just humouring you, sparing your feelings.

Oh God.

“I mean the way you look at him?” Emily says.

“-Please stop, this is so embarrassing-”

“-The way he looks at you?”

You freeze. “What?” You turn to look at her now and you find her smirking.

“Come on, you’re seriously telling me you haven’t noticed? I noticed the day I met him, so you’re either blind or in denial, and I know you’re not blind. Even McCall knows it.”

“What? No. He has a girlfriend and he wouldn’t-”

“Yeah that might be true, and I can’t speak to that. But it doesn’t change the way he looks at you. Even the way he held you that day? You don’t hold a friend like that.”

Your chest feels fuzzy, warmth spreading to your bones, stomach flipping.

“So?” Emily laughs next to you as she watches your expression. You try your best to stop the smile making its way onto your face. “I’ll take that as a yes,” She pauses. “He does too, y’know?”

“What?”

“Have feelings for you.” She replies coyly.

“Shut up.” You reply, rolling your eyes.

Your smile reaches your ears now, cheeks aching from the strain. Still, you shake your head, and blow her off, instead turning your attention to the other side of the road. You chew on the inside of your lip, mulling over whether to let what you just heard go ignored or if you wanted to act on it.

You turn back to confide in Emily but before you can, you see her squinting in the rear view mirror.

“What the hell?” She mutters. You follow her gaze and see a car with beaming headlights, driving towards you, showing no signs of slowing down as it approaches. She sits up straight in her seat suddenly, as the car increases its speed and barrels towards you.

The colour on her face drains as she fumbles with the gear stick and pedal, panic taking over as she attempts to move out of the way. You both flinch when the MPD car’s tail lights switch on, the engine revving and reversing.

Both of your faces fall. “Emily...” You pant.

“Oh God.”

It’s over in a couple of seconds.

The headlights get closer and brighter, both cars barrelling towards you. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourselves for impact, your hand clasping hers as both cars ram into you, the seatbelt searing the neck of your skin. The airbags pummel your body from the front and side and your insides feel like they're turning upside down.

Your neck snaps forward with the impact, glass shattering and piercing the skin on your face and arms as the blood pools slowly from your forehead. A high-pitched whine penetrates your skull as you look over to a barely conscious Emily, and then to the side mirror, a dark silhouette approaching the car. Your breathing is rapid, chest rising and falling as you hyperventilate before you finally black out with the taste of metal in your mouth.

———

Hotch throws his keys haphazardly on to the table that sits next to the front door, loosens his tie and shrugs his blazer off. He finally breathes a sigh of semi-relief, feeling exhausted. He doesn’t bother calling out to the empty space to let Haley know he’s home, instead decides to just make his way upstairs and get a shower before turning in for the night.

His shirt is unbuttoned and his socks are in his hands when he turns his attention towards the laundry basket in the corner of their bedroom. He goes to throw them in the hamper when he frowns, some stray fabric catching his attention behind the basket.

Haley strolls into the room then, rubbing lotion into her hands as Hotch moves the basket to get a better view of the fabric behind it. She double takes when her eyes fall to what he’s doing, spotting what he’s reaching for. The colour drains from her face.

She’s too late.

Hotch pinches the fabric between his index finger and thumb and inspects it in front of him, frowning, Haley swallows dryly, going lightheaded.

A pair of boxers.

He frowns. They’re not his, but he swears he’s seen some like them before.

“Hey, where did these-”

He barely gets through the whole sentence before Haley’s face gives her away entirely. Her lips are pursed and she’s breathing hard, wringing her hands.

His face falls and he blinks at her, stuck in denial.

Surely not. She couldn’t have-

She averts her gaze, looking instead at the carpet on the floor, cheeks hot when the boxers are thrown at her feet. She flinches.

“Explain.” He demands.

She opens her mouth but no words come, her head hangs in shame.

“How long?” He asks. “How. Long?!” His voice booms.

“It happened when I left for those two weeks.” Her voice barely registers above a whisper.

Anger bubbles in his chest when he does the math, “You’ve been cheating on me for two months? Two months?! Was that him this morning?” His nostrils are flared and he knows he’s getting louder now, but he doesn’t care.

She nods.

“Use your words, was it him?” He hisses.

She sobs, “Yes.”

His mind runs rampant with fury and humiliation, he’d spent the last four months trying to make sure he put her first, had tried to balance his personal and work life and instead of meeting him in the middle, she had betrayed him in such a humiliating way.

He paces the length of their bedroom now, head scrambling at the proverbial slap he’s just received . The cold familiarity of where he’d seen the fabric before suddenly dawns on him, creeping up his spine.

He stops dead in his tracks, turning to face her, asking the question he doesn’t want the answer to. “What’s his name?” He asks evenly.

“Jordan - Fitzgerald.”

He’d always thought the phrase, blood turning to ice, was just a saying but when Haley says those two words, he feels as though the floor has been pulled out from under him and his stomach sinks. He tries to piece together all of the moving parts, tries to connect the dots - he knows what this is, but his brain is still playing catch up.

He’s in a daze when he answers a call from McCall, his voice even. “I’m on my way to you, there’s been an accident.”

“An accident?” That pulls him out of his daze, a cold harsh push back into reality. Haley’s head whips up when she hears the words, tears streaming down her face. “Where?” He asks.

McCall pauses. “It’s her.”

Hotch can already feel what’s coming next, dread settling into his bones, his stomach churning when he remembers you’d planned to have dinner with your father. A violent shiver runs down his spine and he swallows down the bile that threatens to spill out.

“Status?” He whispers.

“Missing.”

———

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nevilles-insinuations · 4 years

Text

The Road to Normal - Colson Baker

Requested by @catlady495 : are you taking requests? if so i think it would be so cute if you like took your kids to see colson on tour and have it like really fluff/cute family crap 🥺

Word Count: 1929 Warnings: None really. Fluff and kids. A/N: Gif by me. Sorry this took so long but I had no idea what to write for a while and kept deleting stuff. Anyways, Stream Tickets to My Downfall!

Going on a flight with 3 kids was just as hectic as it sounded. You were starting to question whether it was worth it. A 2-year-old half asleep on your lap, his feet dangling in your face for an hour. Because if you moved even an inch, he would wake up and you weren’t emotionally prepared for that.

Bella had finally stopped asking questions about the plane, how it flew and when she would see her dad. Her sister distracting her with her tablet. You were always thankful for Casie, she was the best big sister that you could ever ask her to be. Even when you didn't ask, she was awesome. 5 months and 25 days without him and you were going a little stir crazy. It was the loneliness more than anything that got you. The kids hated it, and seeing them like that made your heart hurt.

Colson was feeling it too, though he would never admit how much. Tour was insane like always, but he loved it. The mess, the noise, the crowd. Performing was like breathing to him - the only thing he would change was you. Without you there, it was like a piece of him was missing. A late-night phone call and "I miss you" couldn't get you to drop everything and fly to another country. Now you had kids, it was a lot more difficult to bring them out on road. The circumstances were understandable but hard to take. So this plan was put into action. The plan that involved your legs being scrunched up against a chair for 5 hours and trapped in a metal tube. The ride to the hotel was thankfully pretty short, and you met your favourite co-conspirator there.

"Hey (Y/N)"

Ashleigh hugged you tight, bright smile on her face now that you were finally here. Colson needed this, and she knew you did too.

"How are you guys?"

She was attacked with cuddles in response, laughing as the kids could barely contain their excitement.

Colson, completely unaware of his almost screaming children in the lobby, was in his room. He had called you, just before you'd left for the airport. Panic filled your body. Trying to brush him off was difficult. Normally you'd talk for hours but your terrible excuse of “crying kids and needing to go grocery shopping” was enough to prevent any questions. Thankfully he was too tired to probe any further. You probably made his shitty day even worse, the sadness in his voice killed you.

“No- its fine baby, we can talk later. It was nothing important, I just miss you and the kids like crazy. I love you”

At least now you could make his day a whole lot better.

"Which way is it?"

Casie asked once you were out of the elevator, and finally at his floor. She was bouncing with more energy than you'd seen in a while. Looking determined, concentration etched on her face as she matched the number on the keycard with the doors in front of her. Eli tried to escape from your arms getting antsy, wanting to go where everyone else was.

"Okay, okay. You'll see Daddy soon I promise"

You gently shushed him, eyes widening at the mention of his father. You followed your girls to make sure they didn't scream the entire way there.

"(Y/N), come on!"

Casie ran back and her hand tugged yours. Bella was behind you using all of her might to push, her little arms only reaching your lower back. You laughed, while they hurried you to the door. Now only a few steps separated you from him. Colson didn't flinch at the sound of the door handle, presuming it was Ash coming to talk about the show later. Looking up from his phone, he sighed, waiting for another lecture. His mouth fell open when he saw you all standing there.

"Dad!"

Bella ran towards him and Eli wriggled out of your grasp, climbing over the mattress with his sister's help. Casie made her way around the bed, diving under his other arm.

"What are you doing here?"

That smile you loved so much was plastered on his face, unable to hide it at seeing his babies. They were actually here and not buffering pixels thanks to terrible hotel Wi-Fi.

"Came to see you, duh"

Casie shrugged like it was the easiest thing into the world, burrowing back into his shoulder, while her father laughed.

Finally hearing that laugh in person was heaven. His eyes met yours across the room. After months, those blue eyes were staring into yours, lingering on your figure in disbelief. For a while, he would get to be Colson, instead of Kells.

He escaped the grasp of your children, making his way over to you. Enveloping you in a hug and almost lifting you off the floor. Pressing a kiss to his lips your hand caressed his cheek, drinking in your favourite view. Cuddling you tight to his chest for a few seconds, Colson planted a kiss to your hairline. God, he was so happy. You could hear Casie sighing from the other side of the room. Reaching over dramatically to cover her sibling's eyes, both of you chuckled at her antics. Finally, everything was back to your crazy kind of normal.

The few hours you got to yourselves were gloriously spent doing nothing. Colson listening attentively as Casie told him everything that had happened at school. Bella showed him how far she had got with the guitar. The instrument was bigger than her but she was determined to prove that their facetime lessons were working.

Eventually, you made it to soundcheck. The kids all looked so cute in their matching tour shirts. As you strolled in, Casie was glued to his hip, she was definitely going to be taller than him soon. They were all taller than the last time he’d seen them, which Colson hated. His tiny humans were getting bigger by the second and he was missing it. But the feeling of having them here made him forget that pain of leaving and missing them every second.

You plonked yourself on a seat next to Mod, watching a few rows back with Eli on your lap. While, Bella and Casie went wandering backstage with Ash.

"Daddy up there?"

His small voice asked, swinging his legs on the chair. He had gotten bored on your lap after a while. You pointed up to the stage, where Colson was currently talking to Rook about a drum solo.

"Wanna see!"

You lifted Eli off the chair, holding him above your head to see the stage.

"Wanna see Daddy!"

You pointed to the stage with your free hand but it was no use. Eli sniffled, pouting at you. Those big brown eyes blinking up at you, and you instantly melted.

"Fine. We'll go even though he's only over there"

Mod laughed, as you trudged up that stage, crying toddler in tow.

AJ and Baze waved at Eli who gave them a small wave back, but his eyes remained fixed on his father. Slim pointed for Colson to turn around.

"What's up?"

Colson reached out, taking your son in his arms, eyes scanning for any injury. Eli wrapped his arms around his neck and immediately shut up.

"What's wrong? Why you crying?"

"Missed you"

The baby mumbled into his tattooed shoulder, and Colson’s arms squeezed him a little tighter.

"You were just over there!"

He laughed, pointing to where Mod was, who waved back at him.

"You wanna stay up here with me?"

His voice was softer as he asked the question and Eli nodded intently.

"Guess I'll sit here then"

You made your way over the side of the stage, laughing at the thought Colson jumping around with a baby in his arms. He'd done it before. It was difficult but still unbelievably cute.

Casie appeared next to you, back from hanging out with Ash and Ash.

"Hey Casie B"

She rested her head on your shoulder, her curly hair tickling your forehead. At least she still wanted to hang out with you.

"You doing okay?"

She nodded. Casie would have a good time no matter what, she just wanted to see her dad.

“Thanks for bringing me”

“No problem, you’re a delight. Plus who else is going to watch the madness with me?”

She agreed wholeheartedly, and almost on cue, soundcheck was yet again interrupted by one of Colson’s tiny humans. It was less troublesome than the usual chaos that followed your family around, but it was to be expected. Bella walked onstage confidently, not unlike her someone else you knew, planting herself in front of her uncle. Slim leant down, the five-year-old whispering in his ear, to which he nodded.

“Rookie, you’re out the band”

“Again?”

His accent rang in the air, still sounding dejected at the words he had heard so many times.

“Yeah” Slim nodded, helping his niece over to the drums “Bella is replacing you”

“Do you need some help?”

Rook asked, seeing the concentration on her little face.

She paused, thinking about this life-changing decision for a second.

“Maybe a little”

Her tiny hands grabbed the sticks, whacking the drums and cymbals with some sense of rhythm. She was taking advantage of her moment. Soaking up the applause and cheering, you took that as your cue to leave so they could actually rehearse.

The show was phenomenal, as always. Surrounded by music and the unreal energy that came in waves from the stage. To you it was beautiful. Although that may have been just because of who was jumping around shirtless on stage. Colson winked at you and all the girls screamed but you just shook your head and blew a kiss back. Bella was disappointed to not be on drums, but she still had a good time. Bopping along with her tiny headphones, giggling when her dad made funny faces at them. Eli had fun clapping to the music, occasionally half wobbling half dancing with his sisters. The babies got tired quickly, eventually leaving to snooze backstage. Casie was wide awake, watching with awe as her father jumped across the stage. She shot you another smile, and you just felt happy. Nothing could beat that feeling of spending time with your family, the ones you love. Or an amazing concert.

After the show, you were welcomed into a hug by smiling, and very sweaty, Colson. And you wouldn’t change a thing for that sight. Eventually, you’d make it back to the hotel, basking in the almost silence of nighttime and enjoying each other’s company for the first time in a while. Bundled on the bed, cold because your children had claimed ownership of all blankets and comforters. Whispering due to your sleeping kids, you would attempt to have a conversation but Colson would still make you laugh without even trying.

“Quiet is so weird to me now”

The blond hummed, agreeing with your statement. It was nice but strange to not have a constant stream of noise filling the room.

“You wouldn’t rather be out having drunk lightsaber fights right now?”

“I mean, if you’re suggesting it-”

He abruptly sat up, attempting to move off the edge of the bed, amongst the sea of people on the mattress.

“Nope. This is perfect”

Colson shook his head, moving back and resting comfortably on your shoulder. And you knew, he meant every word. Despite the tantrums, very long flights and awkward facetimes. This was worth it and always would be.

#mgk imagine #colson baker x reader #mgk x reader #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #neviwrites

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sunlightandsuffering · 2 years

Text

Eren doesn’t really expect the whirlwind that is Mikasa Ackerman, he doesn’t even want her actually. He’d been minding his own business, hanging out with a few friends after work, when like probably about every other hot-blooded man in a mile radius, he’d been immediately drawn to the little pixie entering the large bar through the main doors. She’s a tiny little thing, tall but willowy, her stature small and in a bar made up of mostly werewolves, she looks miniscule. She arrives with her friend, both witches, he can smell it, she’s impossible to miss.

She smells of vanilla and citrus, and he knows immediately she’s going to be the subject of every naughty fantasy he has for the next few weeks. It’s kind of perfect especially seeing as how his rut is coming up soon, might be a nice change of pace. Maybe he can get himself off, won’t even have to take some dinky omega girl he doesn’t give two fucks about.

Although, Mikayla has been eyeing him up lately, and if nothing else she’s easy on the eyes, would probably be a good rut partner.

But something about this little witch, tall but slender, wearing a pair of stylish runners, leather leggings that are glued to her every curve and a little crop top that does little to hide the curves of her breasts, something about her is captivating. She completes the look with a long stylish trench coat that gives her a bit more of a mysterious vibe and she holds her book bag like it’s a lifeline as her eyes peruse the many different men of the bar. She’s not exactly on the prowl he wouldn’t say, but she’s here for a reason, her friend’s immediate b-line to the bar tells him that at least.

Normally, he’d probably just go back to joking with his friends, Armin has after all, started dating a vampire, and if that isn’t something to talk about he doesn’t really know what is. But something stops him, and he’s only half invested in the conversation between Armin and Jean, instead his attention drawn to the dark-haired little witch at the bar. He’s keeping tabs on her from his booth and it’s honestly ridiculous, he shouldn’t be, witches hate werewolves. Not to mention interspecies sex with werewolves is often difficult and incompatible, it would never work. He should want absolutely nothing to do with the little witch now watching him from her barstool. Except he does, and he really can’t stop it.

Evidently, neither can she, because as her friend orders their drinks, Eren watches at first in curiosity, and then amusement as the dark-haired, grey-eyed little witch marches right up to him with purpose.

Her eyes are piercing, gunmetal grey when she finally arrives next to him at his booth, and he’s reluctantly interested, her face beautiful, skin like that of porcelain, almost completely blemish free, save for a scar he wants to kiss.

He’s not sure what he expects from the little thing, but it certainly isn’t a hand on his knee, leaning far too close into his personal space as Armin and Jean watch on in amusement. “You,” she says in accusation and Eren raised an eyebrow. “Yes, me. What is it I can do for you little witch?”

A pink tongue darts out to wet her lips, and he notices how full they are, he wants nothing more than to take one between his teeth. “Are you seeing anyone?” She questions boldly and Eren’s eyebrows almost recede into his hairline, a witch propositioning him so boldly?

“No,” he responds hesitantly and for a moment those serious eyes light up with glee, sparking silver in the dim light of the bar but then Eren has to crush her dreams.

“But I don’t mess around with witches,” he leans in closer to her, taking back his personal space, getting right up in hers, noses almost touching, “and you, little one, are about as witchy as they come.”

To Eren’s immense surprise she actually pouts, she doesn’t kick and scream, or walk away in a huff like he expects, she looks rather forlorn actually. “Really? You couldn’t make an exception just this once?”

The hand on his thigh moves up a little higher, stroking closer to where he lays half-hard and Eren struggles to hold back a groan as her tentative fingers find his sensitive head over his joggers, little witch indeed.

He releases a tense breath through his teeth, hand catching her wrist to stop her from exploring anymore of him, “Sorry little witch, no exceptions.”

She thumbs at his head lovingly, back and forth across the tip where he should have removed her fucking hand in the first place, but now he’s only frozen as he lets her touch him. “You sure?” She leans up a little bit to whisper in his ear, like it’s a secret, “I think we might have fun.”

Her hot breath on his ear and the heady scent of vanilla almost take him out and he rips himself away from her, forcing her hand back finally. “No exceptions,” he practically growls at her.

Her pout persists, and she takes that bottom lip between her teeth, just like he wants to. “Too bad.” She flounces away and Eren breathes heavy, thankful at least that she’s left. That’s the end of that, and its only Armin and Jean’s teasing he’ll have to deal with to remember the incident. Except it’s not.

Because his little witch is nothing if not persistent, and how many drinks she sends him, how many times she comes to the bar, unaccompanied, just asking for trouble in those tiny little outfits. It’s irresponsible, someone has to take care of her in a rowdy all werewolf bar. And Eren would be loathe to let anyone else take care of his little witch but him.

#lys's drabbles

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andypantsx3 · 4 years

Text

in cinders | 6 | ramifications

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 24,362 words / 9 chapters

summary: You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate.

tags: cinderella AU, prince!Shouto, romance, misunderstandings, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Morning brought with it a castle guard.

A sharp knock split the silence of your sleeping quarters but there was no one to rouse. You and Ochako had both sat awake, neither able to sleep a wink after discovering the dress missing. You had considered running, but there wasn’t time to get far enough before you were discovered. So instead you sat, mulling over your options.

With a heaviness weighing down your limbs, you dressed and tied your hair back. Opening the door, you found a soldier in the red livery of the Todoroki guardsmen. You stared.

“Lady Utsushimi wishes to see you.” he said.

You nodded. “Please take me to her.”

You followed him up a long series of twisting hallways. An eerily familiar fear crept into the hollows between your bones. You had escaped with your life the last time you’d been marched up these halls. You doubted you would be so lucky a second time.

Finally, your path ended before a grand set of double-doors. A sharp series of knocks let you inside.

The Lady Camie Utsushimi sat primly on a loveseat, dressed in a green gown that brought out the ruddy blonde of her hair. You noted with a sinking heart a familiar blue fabric pooled in her lap.

She gestured for the guardsman to close the door behind him - and with an earsplitting creak, you were left alone. You stood in silence, hardly daring to breathe.

Lady Utsushimi shifted. “Prince Shouto’s birthday celebration was held a few evenings ago. Did you know it?”

You nodded, eyes glued to her slender form.

“At the ball, I had the good fortune of meeting a lady named Kamiko Ito, wearing a fetching blue gown with silver about the sleeves. It looked quite beautiful, just the sort of thing I’d wear. In fact, I was almost certain that I had a gown remarkably similar in style and cut.”

Your heart pounded in your chest.

She continued, “Imagine my surprise when my own dress was returned to me after I’d sent it to be laundered, with silver on the sleeves.”

To your horror, her slender fingers parted to reveal a thin silver ribbon twined between them.

“You could imagine my shock,” she said, “when I thanked the servant who came to return my dress to me and discovered that she was called Kamiko Ito. Only, she certainly wasn’t the Kamiko Ito that I remembered from Shouto’s birthday.”

She got to her feet, picking her way delicately over to you. You held still, though you could feel that you were quaking like a leaf in a windstorm.

“The Kamiko Ito that I met that night was somewhat shorter. I would even guess she was just about your height. It was difficult to make out her face through the mask, but I’d say her eyes were just your color as well. And her hair - that evening she wore it unbound.”

A tug at the back of your head had your hair spilling down your shoulders. You felt frozen, like your limbs were trapped in quicksand. You felt like the mouse in the moments before the cat pounced - the jaws hadn’t yet closed around you, but you were caught.

“Tell me why you did it,” she said, gaze burning into yours. Her eyes were dark, so brown they were nearly black.

You panicked. Would she trace you back to the Lady Uraraka as well? You needed to stop her from bringing Ochako into this.

“I have no reason. I wanted a night of revelry.”

She stayed quiet, studying you intently.

Maybe you needed to switch tacts. Maybe angering her would work. Get her furious enough with you to cloud her judgement, furious enough to order you to the gallows without pausing for further inquiry. You were good at raising blood to a boil, if Kamiko was any judge.

“I’m sick of making food for you pompous cowards,” you spat, letting a sneer cross your face. “I’m sick of scrubbing your floors and washing your pans. I wanted to send a message. I did it to stomp all over your ballroom, get my filthy hands all over your pretty gown and your fine food and your prince.”

Something curious entered her gaze. “Really. Well you certainly were trying to keep a low profile for someone supposedly so furious.”

You said nothing.

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with a Lady Uraraka would it? The way Shouto tells it, you were quite keen to foist her off on him. She wouldn’t happen to be a servant as well, would she?”

Your blood froze over in your veins, your heart screeching to a halt in your chest.

“Leave her out of this,” you said quickly. “She has nothing to do with this. This was my idea.”

At that, a victorious smile crossed Lady Utsushimi’s features.

“Oh I don’t think so. She was dressed just as finely as you were. Whose dress did she steal?”

You panicked. “No one’s! I made it. Please, she has nothing to do with this. I made her go.”

Lady Utsushimi cocked her head to the side. “I think I will have you tell me all of it and I will be the judge. If I think you’re honest enough with me, no harm will come to your friend. If I think you’re lying, however…”

She trailed off. She turned and gestured you over to the loveseat. “Come sit.”

You shook your head, grasping your soot-stained skirts and glancing meaningfully at her clean chair. “I will stand.”

A hard look sharpened her pretty features. “I will not ask again. Sit.”

You perched on the edge of the loveseat, taking care to touch as little of the delicate fabric as possible.

“Now,” she fixed you with a look. “Tell me all of it.”

All at once, the words came rushing out of you, bubbling up like bile in your throat, desperate to come out. You told her about that day in the kitchens, Ochako’s feelings for the prince, the crestfallen look in her eyes. You spilled words about the dress and the late nights spent bent over the pink fabric. You told her about Ochako’s cold feet, about your insistence, about the tug through the secret doorway you gave her.

She said nothing as you talked, an unreadable look on her aristocratic face.

You told her about pinching a dress from the laundry rooms, the shove you gave Ochako in front of the prince. You babbled about the stupid soba and the fear you had felt when Lady Utsushimi herself had complimented your dress. Your cheeks darkened as you even spilled your nonsense about stepping on Prince Shouto’s toes, the ribbon he pulled from your sleeve. You had tried to get away from him; you had only meant to be there for the food.

At this, Lady Utsushimi chuckled. “Only there for the food,” she murmured, smiling a little.

You halted.

“Please, my lady. It was all my idea - Ochako did not know what I had planned. She didn’t eat anything and she didn’t touch the prince. Please don’t hurt her.”

Lady Utsushimi’s dark eyes flicked over you, from your messy hair to your sooty skirts.

“That day in the prince’s quarters,” she said, “why didn’t you tell him?”

You shot to your feet in a blind panic. “Please you can’t tell him! Ochako doesn't know any of what happened - the necklace was my idea."

"Why slip it into his food if you weren't going to lead him to her?"

You bit your lip. "I didn’t know he was so angry; I thought he wanted her.”

She gave you a searching look. “You think he was angry?”

You stared at her. “He was looking for the Lady Ito.”

She arched a delicate brow.

You gestured helplessly, frustrated at having to explain the obvious. She claimed to be an old friend of his, shouldn't she know him better? “I stomped on his toes. I dismissed him! Him, the lord of our lands - on his own birthday!”

She was quiet for a moment. “And your friend Ochako, she loves him. Is that why you didn’t tell her?”

You nodded, exhaling shakily. “I don’t want her to get hurt.”

Lady Utsushimi inspected an elegant nail. “And what do you think of him?”

You stared at her. You could feel your mouth hanging open a little, like a fish on the end of a hook.

She glanced up. “I'm sorry, do you take offense at the question?”

“It’s not my place to think of him.”

She scoffed, then patted the loveseat next to her again. “Your friend certainly believes it’s hers--sit down, I won’t tell you again.”

You sank back onto the loveseat, resting carefully on the edge.

Lady Utsushimi made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. “You will sit properly and you will tell me what you think of the prince.”

You glanced up in question, and she gestured to her own posture, reclined easily into the velvet cushions. You scooted back as far as you dared, cringing at the thought of all the soot you were going to leave on the bright fabric. She would be furious when you got back up.

“Now answer the question,” she prompted.

You bit your lip. “Prince Shouto is very, um, regal.”

To your surprise, Lady Utsushimi let out an unladylike snort. “Shouto is many things but that is not one of them. Try again, and be honest.”

You thought back to the ball. “He’s--he can be quite serious.”

She flapped a hand at you to continue. Your mind ran through the encounter in the kitchens.

“Um but at one point, I think he...he teased me? He’s confusing.”

She gestured again.

“Um, he’s quite powerful, like they say. His magic is incredible.”

At this, Lady Utsushimi leaned forward in interest. “He didn’t say he showed you his magic!”

You shook your head. “It wasn’t at the ball. I ran into him in the kitchens yesterday. He showed me his flames.”

Her eyebrows seemed to climb into her hairline. “He showed you his flames?”

You nodded.

She settled back into her seat. “Well, well. It seems I don’t have to interfere as much as I thought.”

Your brows knitted together but she didn’t explain herself.

“What do you think of his appearance?”

Your heart rate skyrocketed. What kind of question was that to ask a servant?

Lady Utsushimi’s gaze went skyward. “Dear god it’s like pulling teeth.” She prodded you with an elegant hand.

“Um, he’s. He’s quite handsome.”

“The scar doesn’t bother you?” she asked.

You’d shot her a bewildered look before you could remember your manners. “No! No--no, he’s. Um, still quite handsome.”

She didn’t bother to hide her smirk.

“Well then. Tell me, what would be your ideal outcome from this little tete a tete? I now know everything about your plan but I promised I would not hurt your friend.”

Your eyes shot to hers. “Please don’t say anything about Ochako! She had nothing to do with my plans.”

She gave you a considering look. “And you? Don’t you care if you are punished for acting above your station?”

Of course you did. God you would give anything to be a million miles from here. But you knew from experience that groveling for your own mercy did nothing. Mercy had never stayed the housekeeper’s hand nor quieted Kamiko’s complaints. It was best to own up to what you had done and hope the punishment came swiftly.

“What I did was wrong,” you said carefully. “I will accept the consequences of my actions.”

Lady Utsushimi looked at you. To your surprise, she smiled.

“I won’t tell Shouto - for now. But I have decided on your punishment. You will return here, the day after next. You will have tea with me.”

You stared. Had you misheard her? You would do what?

What game was she playing? Was this a noble’s idea of punishment? Was she prolonging the suspense until you returned, only to find Captain Bakugou waiting with the execution squad?

Lady Utsushimi laughed. “Don’t look so terrified. It’s just tea. I promise I don’t bite.”

“My lady, I am afraid I don’t understand.”

Lady Utsushimi smiled, getting to her feet. “Nor do you need to. Now it’s time for you to run along. I’m afraid I have other appointments this morning.”

You climbed to your feet, following her to the door. She ordered the guard outside to return you to the kitchens, then waved you off from the doorway. As you followed the guardsman back through the maze of hallways, you felt just as twisted up as the corridors.

What exactly had just happened?

Lady Utsushimi’s odd request hung over you in the days after.

Tea hardly sounded like the corporeal punishment you’d expected, but you couldn’t help wringing yourself in knots over what else she might have had up her elegant sleeve. You worried as you washed vegetables, as you cleaned, and as you tried to sleep. Between your punishment which kept you in the kitchens until well after curfew, and your worrying which kept you awake in the scant hours you had left for sleep, it was a wonder you managed any shut eye at all.

One morning, you found yourself blinking to awareness on the cold stone of the kitchen hearth, and realized you had fallen asleep in the ashes. With a muttered swear, you picked yourself up and swept the remaining ashes into the dustpan, brushing yourself off as best you could and washing your hands in the sink. Smudges of coal dotted your apron, and you could only imagine what your face looked like.

Soft fingers of light outside the window told you what time it was, and with a resigned sigh you set about your work, pulling out pans and the soft clumps of Rikido’s dough that had been left to rise overnight. You found yourself kneading the dough more roughly than usual, channeling all your worries and confusion into the rolling pin.

Which is how he found you, knotting the bread with much more force than was necessary.

“Has the bread done something to insult your honor?”

You jumped, whirling to find Prince Shouto leaning in the doorway.

“Your highness!” you cried, genuflecting.

He stepped further into the kitchens. “You’ve been at it like the bread called your mother a dog.”

You let out a shocked laugh. The words tumbled out before you could stop them, “A swine, I think it was.”

That wry curl sat in the corner of his mouth. “Shall I defend your honor?”

You chuckled. “I will have vengeance enough at the lunch hour.”

The prince came closer, peering over your shoulder curiously. This close, you could feel the temperature differential between the two sides of his body. You tried to ignore the way his proximity made your cheeks heat.

“It appears you’ve had vengeance enough now.”

You glanced at the knot of bread in your hands. The dough pooled over itself in sad lumps, the surface torn where you’d pulled it too harshly through the loops of other dough strands. You hoped it cooked off in the oven, otherwise Rikido was going to be furious with you.

“I suppose I have,” you smiled, trying to smooth it over with your fingers.

“Is something the matter?” Prince Shouto asked. His voice was deeper than you’d remembered, and calm like the still waters of a lake.

You glanced up, surprised. “Nothing, your highness.”

Everything, but telling you would make it worse.

His varicolored gaze raked over you, but he said nothing.

You took a breath. “You’re up early again. Couldn’t sleep?”

He let out a sigh. In the cold of the morning kitchens, it formed a small cloud. “I believe I’ve told you that I’m looking for something.”

Your heart picked up. Had he talked to Lady Utsushimi? Was he here to ask about Ochako? Worse, was he here to drag you off to the dungeons?

Before you could work yourself up into a proper dudgeon, he continued, “I’ve been searching through all the records in my spare time. I’ve been through dozens of the palace’s censuses with Izuku and the Lady Utsushimi’s help. But,” he sighed, “what I seek still escapes me.”

You bit your lip. Was it Ochako? He’d been angry, but he couldn’t be pushing himself this hard, searching this ardently for the Lady Ito. It had to be Ochako, didn’t it?

You understood his frustrations now - there would be no record of the Uraraka family in the books he searched. At least, not of noble origin. What would he do when he found no mention of her line in all the rest? Would he give up his search? Would he realize he’d been fooled?

Before you could reply, the prince changed tacts. “I’ve also--been thinking. About something you said the last time we spoke.”

You could feel your cheeks heating. He’d been thinking of your conversation?

He bent his head a little to catch your eye. “You...you said you couldn’t read, last time.”

You looked up at him curiously, feeling yourself nod.

“Would you,” he started, clearing his throat a little. “Would you like to learn?”

You turned to him in shock. “How would I?”

Prince Shouto shifted, the rigid line of his body looking almost like he was nervous. “I could -- I could teach you.”

You stared. “You could teach me?”

He nodded. The faint tendrils of light from the window caught the white of his hair, flickering off the soft strands like the sun on morning snow.

You gasped. “Yes! I would love to! How do I--? What do I do? I mean, when can we--?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “When is your day of rest?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” you replied.

He nodded thoughtfully. “Tomorrow evening, then. Find me in the library after your dinner.”

You agreed, feeling like your smile was splitting your cheeks.

Prince Shouto nodded again, seeming satisfied and moved away from the worktable. You heard the soft tread of his boots as he made his way to the door. It was quiet a moment, and you thought he had left, until he spoke, "You know, you remind me very much of someone."

You glanced up at him from where you were attempting to rescue the dough. The thought warmed you, somehow, that he should think of you and see someone familiar to him.

"A friend, I hope?"

The prince smiled, something soft and almost secretive. "From what I knew of her, she was a very interesting lady."

You flushed, ducking your head to stare at your hands. He thought you interesting?

Prince Shouto continued, unwary of your discomfiture. "The other morning - that girl who came in as I was leaving. She called you Cinders. Is that your name?"

You almost burst out laughing, your embarrassment immediately forgotten. "She certainly thinks so. But no, I am called Y/N."

He took a step back, that wry smile sitting on his mouth again. “Until tomorrow, then, Y/N.”

You waved, feeling a little giddy. “Until tomorrow.”

And then you were left alone in the kitchens again, the suddenness of his offer settling around your shoulders.

Tomorrow you would have tea with Lady Utsushimi and learn to read from Prince Shouto.

What exactly had gotten into the nobility?

#fanfic #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #boku no hero academia

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kaysayshey · 3 years

Text

off paper || e. kirishima

This is a work inspired by a struggle that a lot of those suffering with mental illness experience, particularly those with depression and bipolar disorder; however, it can be applied to a lot of mood-altering medications that cause sexual dysfunction. While medication is a life changing and stabilizing aspect of many lives, it doesn't come without its cons. I think Kirishima would be incredibly understanding in this situation. Please keep in mind that bipolar disorder presents in many ways. There is no one-size-fits-all in mental health treatment or in its subsequent treatment. I wanted to write a bit about the side effects of SSRI medications.

Songs that I listened to while writing include:

Serendipity by BTS' Jimin

Bumper Cars by Alex and Sierra

That Kind of Love by MAX

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, NSFW (no smut, however this work contains sexual topics), mention of prescription drugs, bipolar disorder, minors DNI.

On paper, Kirishima Eijirou was perfect. An impressive sidekick working underneath Fatgum, his cheery disposition more than capable of reassuring even the most terrified of civilians. A hard-hitting, defensive quirk paired with determination unlike anything you'd ever seen. Easy-going enough to work with the difficult heroes - and by difficult, everyone meant Dynamight. Intelligent, reliable, and just the right amount of competitive.

Off paper, he was even better. Hell, the moment he'd asked you out, you'd almost done a double-take. Was he sure? Kirishima could date, well, anyone. However, you'd blurted out 'yes' before your brain had time to catch up, even more surprised at the gorgeous pink that graced the tips of his ears.

And the date went wonderfully. Were you expecting anything different? He was a magnet, and you were willing to be the refrigerator he stuck to - at least, for as long as he wanted. How he managed to remember what flavor of milk tea and boba you preferred, following it up with a quick delivery while working twelves at the agency, was beyond you. Good morning texts wishing you an easy day of your own hero work, good night texts hoping that your dreams were "sweeter than you." The moment a bouquet of roses was sent to your office, you had to admit it.

You were embarrassingly attracted to Kirishima Eijirou.

Not that he minded, no. If anything, he returned the feeling tenfold. After the first date came a string of others before finally labeling it as a relationship. Movie nights, walks through the park, chaste kisses interspersed by giggles as you both laughed at whatever came to mind. The quick meetings between your lips turned into full-on sessions that left your knees weak. Being with Kirishima was easy in a way that nothing else had been.

But let's face it. Working as a full-time hero with bipolar disorder made life, well, tough. A pharmaceutical cocktail and therapy helped, turning what was the disaster of your life into a manageable mess. Episodes were few and far between, the prickling anxiety was quelled by coping techniques and medication when necessary. The days spent in a daze of your own "self-medicating" were long gone, thank whatever higher power was out there. No, life was on the upswing for you in pretty much every aspect of the phrase.

Except for your sex life.

And no, that wasn't to say that Kirishima was doing anything wrong. To be quite honest, he was doing every just right. Kissing the places you loved most, calloused hands lingering deliciously over your skin. A voice like honey whispering in your ear, beautiful moans of how gorgeous you were, how he absolutely adored you. Saying that it left you with weak, knocking knees was an understatement. He was an emotional hurricane, sending butterflies through your stomach as he showered you with praise and carefully placed lips.

Other than a complete lack of climaxing, it was amazing.

You knew this was a possibility once you had started taking medications. A loss of libido was one thing, but being unable to finish was starting to wear on you. Before you could stop yourself, you were doing the unthinkable: faking orgasms.

After all, who wants to spend close to an hour between someone's thighs just to be met with frustrated sighs and potentially awkward conversations? No, Kirishima didn't need to spend so much time on your pleasure, not when there was a high probability that you wouldn't finish at all. As long as the moans weren't straight out of a low-budget porno overly exaggerated, you figured you'd get away with it.

Getting away with it turned out to be the least of your issues. The struggle was real. Outside of the sweetest lovemaking with Kirishima, you desperately tried every trick in the book to reach an orgasm on your own. Something. Anything. You were beginning to feel pent-up, needy. The money spent on toys was starting to reach an uncomfortably high number. Time was wasted and followed up by flopping onto the bed in frustration. No amount of lube, porn, or fantasy was helping. Once you hit the hour mark, you basically gave up.

And you were now pacing the hallways of your apartment, irrational tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Why did it matter? Orgasming was not the end all, be all of life. But the memory of before the medications, the euphoric bliss that would force your back from the mattress, that memory reared its head more often than you cared to admit. God damn it, you just wanted to feel the shudders, the rush of pleasure surging through your body, insatiable heat quenched. And you wanted to stop lying to him. The tears rimming your lash line made their arrival known, long tracks staining your cheeks.

This is, of course, when Kirishima decides to knock on your door. After all, you had planned to have a comfortable night in, a delightful line up of rom-coms at your disposal. Movies that you now wanted to throw out the nearest window. Why, why did you have to try again? He deserved so much more than a broken partner, a partner who would never be able to match him. Someone who could crash at the slightest struggle, who broke when their insecurities were brought to life.

Another set of knocks. Time to face the music.

As you gently opened the door, the drop in Kirishima's face was visible as he took in your state. Where a bright grin had been settled now featured lips drawn into a tight, worried line. After all, you did everything in your power to keep him in the dark in regards to your mental illness. Not necessarily your smartest move, in retrospect. Hindsight, you know?

The moment the door clicked behind him, Kirishima was gathering you in his arms, a large hand gently stroking the back of your head. A kiss to your temple, his forehead pressing against your hairline. Deep breaths weren't helping you at this point. Because regardless of how frustrated you were, Kirishima was safety, the warmth of his embrace a haven for you to let out the sobs that were wracking through your body.

And as the tears fell, darkening his gray tee shirt, Kirishima ran his hands up and down your back, the comforting heat of his body providing temporary relief. After moments of crying, you pressed your head against his chest, eyes glued to the linoleum floor beneath you.

A thick finger and thumb tenderly met your chin, slowly lifting your face to meet his eyes. Those usually warm red irises were dark with worry, the pad of his thumb running circles over and over against your skin. Another reminder of just how good he was. No man had ever made you feel as desired or important as Kirishima.

"Baby, what happened?" he murmured, still caressing your face so gingerly that it brought the threat of more tears.

"It's nothing, nothing important," came your quick response, avoiding any lingering eye contact. It wasn't that important. Sexual gratification came second to emotional connection, and you had that firmly in your grasp with Eijirou. Why would you risk losing someone like that?

His eyebrow narrowed at your words, and he kept your face cradled in his hands. "Please tell me, baby. I want to help."

God, that expression of pure concern. Like you were everything to him, like your hurt was his hurt. It was in that moment you knew: you couldn't keep lying to him. Whether it meant he'd leave for someone else, someone perfectly, indescribably normal; that didn't matter. If anyone deserved a picture-perfect romance, it was Kirishima.

Eijirou, I-" Your voice broke from the nerves, unable to hold his unflinching gaze. How could someone be so earnest? He nodded, those same reassuring circles urging you to speak.

"I think you deserve someone better."

He looked like you'd honest to goodness slapped him. So many emotions flashed over his usually cheerful face that it scared you. Oh, god, this wasn't what you wanted to do, but how could you not? No one wanted someone like you. Once he knew, he'd leave. Better to push him away first and just let it end now before-

"What are you talking about? Baby. I don't want anyone else. I want you." His words came out stammered, tripping over his tongue and falling into the otherwise quiet apartment. Kirishima shook his head slowly, searching your face for some form of reassurance that this wasn't what you wanted. That you didn't want him.

"I don't know why. I just, I'm too much. You'll end up getting frustrated with me and I just, I just can't take that kind of heartbreak."

"Too much? You're never too much, what are you talking about?"

The words fell before you could stop them, faster than should be discernible to the human ear. But if there was anything Eijirou was, it was attentive.

"My medicine is driving me crazy, and I know without it I'll go over the edge again. But I want to feel normal, Eiji. I can't handle feeling like I'm not normal." And it was true. Sex was so innately human, and knowing that there was a chance that you'd never be able to gain that ultimate satisfaction was driving you mad. Was this just an overreaction from a brain exhausted from constantly fighting itself, or was this a logical, albeit emotionally charged, reaction?

"Your medicine?"

There it was. What you wanted to avoid mentioning. Sure, it wasn't fair to keep it from him. But let's be honest, you'd been expecting this to end after the first few months. And now? Now you were shaking in his arms, knowing this confession would be the end of the dreamy love you'd been experiencing.

"My medicine for uh... for my, um. I have bipolar disorder. It's why I can't work on Thursdays, too. I have to go to therapy. I know I should've told you from the beginning but I just, you know, I really, really like you, and I don't-"

One finger met your lips followed by soothing shushes from his own. As if the world's weight had been lifted from his capable shoulders, Kirishima let out a heaving sigh of relief. The arm around your waist pulled you closer, his large hand splaying comfortably against your back.

"I'm not going anywhere. I just want you to be okay. What can I do for you?"

And that left you tearfully admitting it all. Longing for the physicality that would bring you closer together, the bliss of coming undone at your partner's hands. Disgust when you listened to your friends' bragging of delicious, gratifying one-night stands. Aching heat desperate to be relieved by your man only to be left at the edge, the warmth still tingling through your body. How you felt caught halfway between "normal" and "crazy" even with the drugs. And Kirishima nodded, hanging on every word.

"I'm glad you told me," he began, slowly trailing his fingertips up and down your back. "If I had known, I would've worked ten times harder. Will you let me make you feel good, honey? Please?"

How did those few sentences send you into another fit of tears? Clutching the lightweight fabric of his shirt and apologizing for the damp stains, you nuzzled against his chest in embarrassment. But he continued his motions, adept fingers working at your tense muscles.

That night, he gave you everything you wanted and more, eager to please you in a way he never had. Eyes focused, sweet nothings spilling from his lips, tender hands and featherlight kisses. Teasing and romance and dedication over hours, something you'd never experienced before.

On paper, Kirishima was perfect. Off paper, he was even more. And he fulfilled his promise to you, "I love you" slipping from his lips when you finally reached your euphoria.

"I love you too, Eijirou."

"I'll always love you more."

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima x y/n #kirishima x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x gn!reader #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #tw bipolar #tw medication #kaysays #i'm super nervous posting this one #ngl

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moondustis · 4 years

Text

keep it lowkey (m)

pairing: seo johnny + reader genre: smut, fluff, angst!! / idol x trainee!au word count: 2,4k summary: A moment shared between two people that could use some more time.

You remember a time, when you had just started training, that sneaking past managers to go to a internet cafe made you break into a cold sweat. It didn’t take you that long to realize, though, that they didn’t really care about where trainees go if they return in one piece and ready for a full day of practice when morning came.

The manager in charge of your dormitory merely sneaks a glance when you pass through her room, bag in your arm and a mask being adjusted into your face. “Don’t come back too late.” She says absently. “And don’t eat anything that’ll make you bloated.”

You roll your eyes, but still humming in agreement as you finally leave the dorm. Free for a couple hours, is what you think and a sigh escapes your covered lips.

The black car parked just a little far from the dorm, to avoid suspicions, awaits for you and with giddiness on your steps, you make your way to it. Your heartbeat quickens by the second because it’s the first time you’re doing something like this, sneaking out to see someone, and it sends a thrill through your whole body.

You had met Johnny in 2010, when you were still naive enough to think joining a big entertainment company was a good idea. He had been there a little longer than you, probably with plans to debut sooner than it would really happen, and it didn’t take you too long to realize how popular he was with the female trainees. Whenever a party happened and you were able to interact with one another for more than a couple hours, the girls you trained with wouldn’t shut up about how handsome and tall he was. It even came as far as him being nominated and winning a silly competition that crowded the most beautiful trainees. And just maybe you weren’t safe from his charms either.

Your relationship with him, if one could even call it that, took a while to bloom. Shared glances that became stupid jokes, a friendship that turned into something else. Something else being whatever you could do when most of the times you felt like you were being watched and the other half of the time Johnny was far away in another country. It was quick kisses shared inside a small cupboard and late nights conversations on kakaotalk that were just shy of becoming something more than friendly, but stayed like that.

After his debut it was even harder to let things go further, because how does one let go when they are in fact being watched all the damn time? The kisses became quicker and rarer, the texts sparser, and you go weeks without even hearing of him on somewhere else than the news, while you train for a debut that was promised to happen a long time ago.

Right now though, all of that is pushed to the back of your head because when you open the car’s door, he’s right there, smiling at you through a mask of his own. You get into the car in a rush, the click of the seatbelt sounding as he takes off, greeting you and asking how you had been.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, removing the mask now that he deems it not necessary anymore and you do the same. His face these days is something familiar, yet feels completely out of reach from seeing it on the tv so many times. “I know they got you doing those crazy diets.”

You chuckle, shaking your head even though he can’t really see from having his eyes on the road. The words of your manager echoes in your head. “Not really, I had dinner already.”

“Does sweet potatoes really count as dinner?” He asks and you laugh.

“I’ll let you know they let us have rice too now.” You joke back at him, earning a laugh that now that you hear it in person, you realize you have missed very much.

“Good, good.” He hums. “Still, I’ll buy you something delicious on the way back.”

You agree with a little cheer, accepting his hand when he puts his to rest on your thigh. This is something couples do, your foolish mind provides, making the butterflies in your chest go a little crazy and you urge them to stop. “Are you going to take me to the Han River?” Your teasing voice makes him laugh again.

“Sure, we need to do this dispatch scandal right, don’t we?” He rhetorically asks, squeezing your hand and it’s funny at the same time it sets your stomach lurching at the mere idea of being found out. Still, you try not to think about that. “But really, I’m taking you somewhere better.”

And by better he meant more private, because he drives you to a place that looks a lot like your first guess, but that you had never heard about. It looks vacant and when he parks near a cliff you can see the whole city shining down from where you stand. “This is really nice.” You turn to look at him when he unbuckles his seatbelt, leading you to do the same. “How did you find out about it?”

“Sehun told me about it. Said it was a good date spot.” He grins at you, making you wonder if he had told about this to his friends and that’s why they were so gladly giving him tips. Or that he was doing these things with someone else. You pretend that the last thought didn’t cross your mind.

“A date spot?” You gasp in fake surprise. “What kind of scandalous things you have in mind for today, Johnny Seo?”

His laugh is contagious, your own face breaking into a grin when he comes forward as much as the car’s middle will allow. “None at all.” He lies through his teeth, because his hands are sliding to rest at your neck as he brings you closer, to finally, finally, press a kiss to your lips.

It’s a gentle kiss, the traces of both your smiles still there but it soon dies with the deepening of it. Call it distance making the heart grow fonder, call it two people that were usually forbidden this finally getting it, call it whatever. Johnny molds his lips to yours with an ease that makes your body bubble with the begging of arousal, sucking on your lips until you part them enough to let his tongue in.

Now this, the way his tongue slides against yours and how sucks in a way that makes you tingle and a small moan bubble in your throat, is not new but it’s not yet familiar. There was never enough time to do anything but quick kisses back then, but now you feel like you have all the time in the world. So you follow his movements, bringing him closer by the thin fabric of his t-shirt, letting your tongue move in what you hope doesn't comes across as naive inexperience.

Because Johnny knows it, knows the only person you had ever kissed was him, so he guides you, makes you whimper when he bites just slightly on your bottom lip. Presses small kisses until you’re chasing for more and then moves down to your jaw, to your neck, sucking just lightly, careful to not leave any marks but enough to make you want more.

What is new is the way one of his hands move down on your body, leaving small sparks wherever he touches, until he finally stops it at your thigh, squeezing it while kissing you deeply again. What is new is the way his fingers trace patterns on it until he’s dipping them inside your skirt, tentatively touching the hem of your underwear in a silent plea.

And you, well, you’re nowhere near being in a state that would justify denying him so you express your enthusiasm to it by kissing him harder, moving as if to guide him. He does it so gladly. There are no words needed between two people that have waiting too long for this.

Breaking the kiss, his eyes continue glued to yours as he brings two of his fingers to his lips and licks them until they’re shining with a coat of wetness. You watch the whole thing mesmerized, shaking just a bit in anticipation and anxiety.

The moment his fingers come in contact (finally!) with where you wanted them the most, you let out a gasp and he pushes it by kissing you again. It’s similar to how you touch yourself when you can get some privacy to do so, but at the same time it feels completely different. Overwhelming in some sense because someone else… No, not someone. Johnny, because Johnny is touching you like this.

He moves his fingers, circling your clit in motions that make your end approach too fast, like he knew somehow exactly how to do it. Your eyes fall shut, slightly squeezing as your try to calm yourself down but it’s a difficult task when he presses with a little more force and a wave of arousal crashes on your body.

You grip at his shirt, moaning quietly with a hint of shyness to your noises and he uses that moment to shift his fingers, his thumb now pressing down on your clit and his middle finger dipping slowly inside your entrance as you cry out in surprise and enjoyment.

It’s a weird angle, one that makes it somehow even more of a tight fit than it already was. You know he feels it by the curse that falls from his lips and the way his head drops to your shoulder. He pumps his finger in and out tentatively and you whimper, too far gone now to think about how you’re doing this in a car in the middle of nowhere. To think that the first time the man that you absolutely adore, or any man on that matter, touched you had to be like this. Not that you were complaining, really, but the car was too cramped, restrictive and even with the A/C on you still felt a little too hot with sweat forming on your hairline.

“O-Oh my god.” You wail when Johnny curls his fingers in a way that makes you see stars because he hits that exact spot that you had learned about some time ago.

He groans in return when you clench around him. “Shit, I… I wish I could fuck you.” He confesses and your mind spins with the heaviness of his words.

Still, you feel bold enough to ask. “W-Why don’t you?”

That makes him let out a strangled laugh, finger pushing deeper inside of you. “Come on, don’t say things like that.” He begs and you can’t help but to let out a broken chuckle. “You deserve better than having your first time on a car. And I didn’t bring a condom with me.”

You barely manage to roll your eyes at him, conflicted by the jokingly sweetness of his statement. “Maybe you should have had.” Is all you say and it makes him move his fingers fast, moans the only thing leaving your lips now.

“I’ll fuck you next time, I promise. Somewhere nice.” In the back of your head you think about how this sounds like an empty promise. Neither of you knew when the next time would be, because with his tour soon arriving, you would probably only get to see each other months from now. And how would you even manage to find somewhere nice, when right now, in this car in the middle of nowhere, is the only place you can do this freely.

A lump forms in your throat, tears ready to fall but instead you cry out for different reasons with how quick his movements get. Your orgasm is a good one, not blinding because of your head being somewhere else, but your body still shakes and you still let his name fall out from your lips as your eyes flutter.

When you calm down enough, you both move in a lazy rush to get his pants down enough so his hardness stands out flushed and with the tip an angry red. It’s the first time you’re seeing one in real life and as much as it is intimidating, it makes something spark inside of you. He tells you to lick your palm, which you do, and then he guides your hand up and down, squeezing and moving just as he likes.

You watch mesmerized as he bites his lips, makes some rare but beautiful noises and leans his head on the car seat. When he comes is with a long sigh, hand squeezing against yours as he twitches and liquid spurts of his orgasm coats both of your hands, yours small and manicured underneath his big manly one.

It’s a while until you both calm down enough to clean yourselves with the baby wipes he kept on the car’s compartment. After that, he kisses you again, asking when you had to be back and pouting when you see that is already a little past midnight and inform him you don’t have any time left.

The car ride back to your dorm is spent mostly in silence and empty conversations that are used to avoid saying things that are better left unsaid for now. He insists in buying you a kimbap that you put inside your bag with a promise to have it tomorrow for breakfast.

He parks just a few meters ahead the entrance of your dorm when it’s already 30 minutes past midnight, car coming to a stop and you don’t know how much longer you can keep the tears in. It all feels too much, with him looking at you with sad eyes, the feeling of him still warm in your hand and your own arousal making a mess of your ruined panties.

“I’ll see you soon.” His voice sounds broken when he makes the false promise.

You look back at him then, eyes watering. “Okay.” There’s a lot more that you want to say, that would probably be meaningless because words would never be enough to change the reality. Tomorrow, he’ll go back to his idol life to be NCT’s Johnny and you’ll be back to the training room to prepare to be whoever they have planned for you.

So you only say that, basking in the last moments where you can just be two stupid kids kissing inside an empty cupboard, with not that many cares in the world.

When he kisses you one last time, you let it be enough. It has to be enough. For now, at least.

#JOHNNY SMUT #johnny scenarios #nct smut #nct scenarios #short and SAD #im sorry

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youarerageandserenity · 4 years

Text

Borderlands Foam Wig Tutorial (Tyreen)

I was chatting with the lovely @void-noises-exe and it eventually circled around to offering to make a wig tutorial because you don’t see too terribly many, just thought I’d throw mine out ( especially because It was next to impossible to find good references of a foam version of Ty’s hair.) So this will be for foam wigs in general but Tyreen’s hair specifically (with a few pics of my Fiona wig from tales as well because they better accentuate my points) I didn’t plan on making this so I am missing a few pictures that might be helpful but here we go. This will not be short.

Supplies:

-Craft foam (ideally, in small and XL sheets, but you can make do with whatever size you have available)

- Spray paint as close to the BASE color of the wig you need (for Ty I used white, for Fiona a medium brown) ideally in a matte.

- a FUCKLOAD of paints (i use cheap acrylics from the craft store ) in Black, and then several shades of the colors in the hair. (For Fiona i used i think four browns? Tyreens shaved sides have three browns, and the top had an additional yellow-brown i mixed) try to vary them in darkness levels to add depth.

- multiple paint brushes. I like to use around four or five of varying sizes and hardness levels.

- plenty Hot glue, and a hot glue gun (note: you COULD use other typres of adhesive, I like hot glue because its got great hold on foam, it sets FAST and worst case scenario I can take a hair dryer to it and melt it again if I need something to be undone.)

- scissors

- duct tape

-plastic wrap

-sharpie

-wig head

-Plenty of reference images

(optional supplies include a rotary cutter and or exacto-knife [trust me, itll make your life so much easier] , and patience. )

SO to start

1) Put your hair in a wig cap or however you plan on wearing it under your wig. Wrap your whole hair bit of your head in plastic wrap. Make sure you get over your ears and the baby hairs on your neck if you want to keep them.

2) Wrap all the plastic covered bits in duct tape. This is easier for a friend to do on you, but not impossible to do alone, just make sure to get it all. It should be snug. Make sure you get as far down the back of your neck and down your sideburn area as you can. (Most characters have a bit of fringe hanging down in the back so its not the BIGGEST concern for them, but Ty’s got nada so you’re gonna want some good coverage for your hair line.)

3) Take your sharpie and draw an outline of where your ear is, and along the hairline you’d like your wig to have. For short haired characters you dont want to cut too far behind the ear or your hair will peek out, so I like to underestimate how big my ear is and adjust as needed later. Dont make your wig hairline too high either, particularly if you’re making a wig for a character who has no fringe in the front.

4) Take that bad boy off and cut along your outlines. Try it on again, adjust lines as needed. rinse and repeat.

5) once you reach a semi-accurate mold of your head, you’re gonna wanna take it off and cut AT LEAST 4 (front, back, and both sides (I like to do 8, it will lay flatter) sections,coming to a point at the crown of your head. It should come out looking something like this. NOTE : they’re all still connected in the middle. If you’re doing 8, cut each of these 4 in half. )

6) Lay out your foam beneath this. If you dont have a piece of foam big enough to trace this bad boy onto, what I do is literally just break out the hot glue gun a bit early, glue a couple pieces together along the edges, until i get a nice big connected surface. Trace this guy on there as accurately as you can, cut it out, and then glue all your sides together. Now you should have a foam version of your duct tape hat.

(Dont worry if the sides wont stay down, if you’re doing a character like Ty where thats an issue, we’ll get to that part later. )

7) (Optional but VERY helpful) Grab your wig head, and your duct tape head. Tape the duct tape back together and put something in it to make it hold shape, I use poly-fil. Tape the head-form to the wig head, and put your little foam cap on top of that.

8) Time to get creative. You’re gonna want to start from the bottom layers first. For Tyreen that’s the long fringe and her undercut. The strategy I decided on was to take a few large rectangular strips of foam, and lay them out everywhere I wanted the undercut to be and cut along the edges to match the hairline. I don’t have a picture of this exact point in the process but I have one from the beginning of the next step. Really the only thing to note at this point is obviously, your head is round and rectangles are not, for the curves where it sticks up along the edges, cut down where it sticks up in a little triangle and hot glue the ends together (you can sort of see this at the top left in the picture below). Dont worry about seams at this point, we’ll hide them later.

9) This was not the case for Fiona who has very flat hair ( especially because of her hat) but Tyreen has a lot of volume especially towards the front of her head. For hair pieces that need volume, such as the ones that are glued down here, cut two of the exact same foam piece (i like to do them in little waves like the side, but also just a little arch is good for volume without flips such as the front piece) and glue the matching edges together. Make sure the hair triangle is facing the way youd like it to! Then Flatten out the top as much as you can, the bottom will keep the volume and the top ill be able to be covered by “2D” hair pieces.

(NOTE: Honestly, it’s REALLY difficult to end up with an exact copy of cannon, and I ALLLLWAYS get carried away with the spikes. In the end, go by your reference images, but also follow your heart. Cosplay is half about having fun creating. )

10) Once youve started gluing, make sure to keep in mind where your part is (if you have one). For Fiona i didn’t trust myself so I glued in the hair at the part BEFORE anything, and left them ready to be glued down while I worked my way up to them.

NOTE: All the hair at the parts of BOTH wigs is a single piece of foam.You want a nice wide base whenever possible to cover up the seams of all of the other edges of the hair. For your part, Carefully glue along the very end of your strip of foam and stick it down. It will be the last piece to be glueddown on top of everything else to make it look nice and clean.

11) Slowly start working your way around the head, gluing down first anything that will need to be covered (3D pieces and bottom pieces) before getting towards the top where youll need to be more strategic about what is going down and what can cover your edges. I’d definitely recommend mixing 2D and 3D pieces if that’s something you want to experiment with, otherwise, such as in the pic below, it is possible to get volume from a 2D piece, simply by gluing it in a way where it wont lie flat against the head.

12) in the picture above you can also catch a glimpse of Ty’s cow lick. Those are done exactly the same as our 3D pieces from before, only you trace the edges of the open end, and should end up with a triangular third side to be glued in, then just glue along the edges just like the hair part.

13) Dont feel you have to overdo how many pieces the hair has, remember you may also paint in pieces and designs when it comes to the line-art!

14) Once you’ve added everything from the bottom that you’d like to, go ahead and glue down your hair-part.

15) So, obviously, I wasn’t a big fan of Tyreen’s undercut just being flat foam across half my head. So I took an exacto to it for what felt like years. REALLY over-do it on the edges, it’ll get rid of that harsh foam line and give it a little more of a natural blend. Also pay special attention to all of your seams in the foam. The more distressing there is there, the less youll be able to spot lines later.

16) So once you have the overall structure of your wig and you’re thinking you might be happy with this, its spray paint time. (I’d recommend disposable gloves for this, you’re gonna need to maneuver it every which way to get the pain in every cranny and that paint does NOT like to come off easy.) Theres really not much advice I can offer on it, just be patient, and do a couple layers, spray it from every angle and let it dry completely before moving on to the next step unless youre as impatient as I am and dont mind ruining a few paintbrushes.

17) So, like the Fiona pic a few back or this one here, you should have a fairly flat evenly painted foam sculpture. Now is around the time you might start seeing all the inaccuracies in what you’ve made. You gotta push past that it’ll look great I promise. Time to get really creative.

18) for Ty I started by painting the buzzed bits in a base brown, and started in on the line art and her roots while i waited for it to dry before going in with two more colors of brown for depth.

19) For her roots I ended up using three colors. Black at the very bottom (which blends into the line art) a dark brown that matches more or less the buzz, and then after the fact, a custom yellowed-brown to blend better into the white and give us a little more texture. For this and the rest of the cel-shading in the hair, dab your brush before painting and try to mostly stick to light strokes in one direction (OR: if you have one, a particularly hard bristled paint brush does wonders for this) you don’t want the ends of your strokes to be too defined.

20) Outline the edges of the hair and all prominent pieces, particularly the hot-glue seams, itll make them less noticable. (dont forget the little animation squiggles for Ty’s sides) and beyond that-- honestly, black out to your hearts content. These pics are from when I thought I’d finished. I really felt I’d over detailed. The next day I looked at a picture and realized there is always WAY more texture and outlining than I feel like I see. Honestly, you cant really over-do it, especially with fine solid black lines.

21) The next day I came back at it with the yellowed-brown and LOTS more solid black lines. (Currently in the process of taming down where I got too excessive with the spikes on the side)

22) Once it’s all dried, time to try on. Here’s where we address if you have a short haired character, and the edges of your wig just wont stay down -- invest in a little theatrical grade spirit gum. It’s not too terribly expensive, and unfortunately, I tried the cheaper halloween makeup kind, and it just wont hold how you need it too (and please for my sake, also make sure you get spirit gum remover) I took some hair gel (you could also use elmers glue) just to glue up as much of my hair as I could on the sides and the back of my neck to keep them from the spirit gum, and dabbed it along all of the prominent edges of the wig (namely, side and back) wait for it to get a little tacky and stick that MF-er down good.

Aaaaand Voila???

Let me know if I missed any steps? Its fairly simple, once you get going -- just time consuming.

#borderlands cosplay #borderlands #bl3 #tyreen calypso #cosplay tutorial #borderlands 3 #my cosplays

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greymattermaelstrom · 4 years

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Ozlander Fan Gathering 2020 - The Rik and Sophie Show

I attended Ozlander in Melbourne. What an incredible weekend so would like to share my Ozlander experience with you. Of course, it was during the very early days of covid-19 which I’ll address shortly. I’d never met any of the cast before, nor any group of like minded fans. Of course, you are usually lucky to know anyone who watch the TV show (not counting a partner) in your circle of friends let alone personally know a group of fans to chat with. It’s funny though, I’m not sure what I expected, but I thought people would have in depth discussions about OL characters/plots during coffee breaks or in line ups for autographs/photos. I didn’t experience that. I think it was a given that we were all deep into OL. Instead, I found we just chatted and got to know each other, ‘Where are you from?’ etc. As this was the first formal Outlander convention held in Australia, this was big news. I bought my ticket the day they were available (Nov 2019). It was a long way off but I knew the gathering would occur a short time after the first few episodes of Outlander S5 were broadcast, so when S5 started airing, my anticipation grew. Prices were steep admittedly, but a number of us felt it may be the first and last opportunity to meet a cast member, so we did what we could to get there (i.e. sell the healthiest child, blackmail the rich, etc).

Article from “The Scottish Banner” Feb 2020.

Unfortunately, 4 weeks out, Ed Speleers withdrew due to work commitments but local, David Berry, was announced as his replacement on the same day. Then 10 days out, Graham McTavish withdrew due to work commitments in Slovakia. No news of a replacement was announced (I learnt at the event that organising a visa etc with Covid-19 developing had made it nigh on impossible to organise a replacement in time). Ozlander organisers revisited the program and added extra value features to the various tiers. The gathering weekend was so close, yet seemed so far away in these uncertain times. Every day, I anticipated receiving an email stating it had been cancelled. I knew the organisers must have been pulling their hair out. Selfishly and as long as it was safe to do so, I was hoping it would still go ahead. The virus was not as advanced in Australia. Most of our relatively low number of cases were brought in by travellers (residents returning or tourists) from Europe/Asia before flying was cancelled. The Federal Government had restricted public gatherings to less than 500 at the time. Attendance was actually under 200. FYI, below are the global covid-19 stats as of 19 April 2020, a month later. Australia’s population is 25 million.

A few days after the Ozlander event, only crowds of less than 100 were permitted by the govt. We were so, so lucky!! Of course, that reduced further as precautions were implemented over time. We have self-isolation and a lot of business closures, cancellation of sports/entertainment etc. It is dreadful, but not a total lock down in Australia. We could walk dogs and make necessary trips to the supermarket, pharmacy, doctor or special court appearances. Anyway, just wanted to address this concern. ~ Tickets sold well (premium tickets sold out). I saw fans on sm stating the date of the event clashed or it was a bit expensive so I know more wanted to come. Yes, the cost was relatively high. Return airfares for cast, accommodation, plus I assume their appearance fee was always going to be an expensive venture, especially as our AUD had been declining sharply against the USD for some time. Australia can miss out on some things because of distance and a relatively small population, but overall, I think we have done well over the years. ~ Rik (Richard) and Sophie posted IG photos from Melbourne a couple of days before the event. Yay!! They were in the country at least, enjoying the sunsets, cuddling koalas and hypnotising wallabies lol. Sophie posted a selfie from a public toilet (bathroom) - as you do. See Sam’s comment below. Toilet paper was becoming a precious commodity....🤔

So the odds looked good and finally, Ozlander arrived.🥳 Before we took our seats, a lone piper slowly walked into the throng playing Waltzing Matilda (iconic Australian bush ballad) which segued into Outlander's theme song. Goosebumps! Applause all 'round. The piper was a big fan too.

What a thrilling start to proceedings. We took our seats and Meagan Taylor (the one who dared dream the dream), welcomed everyone. The age range of fans was predominately 40-65. We were excited and expectant. Housekeeping announcements focused on coronavirus precautions of course. Wash hands, use hand sanitiser when you can't, no handshaking and no touching the cast. This last request was a little disappointing after seeing photos from other OL cons, but it was quite understandable. I think we were just over the moon Ozlander went ahead so we were more than happy to comply and consider the health and safety of others. Then Meagan had the unenviable task of informing us David Berry had unfortunately cancelled his appearance due to health reasons. Yikes! What a shame. (David released a press statement 15 March(?) outlining his difficult decision. Sydney is Australia's Covid-19 hot spot, so David being a Sydneysider, had to consider this I guess). There are IG photos of David, Rik and Sophie together in Australia, just not sure where. So of course, it surprised everyone that David wasn't attending. Refunds of his meet and great and the re-jigging of tiers was to be announced on the fly. Then there were two, Rik and Sophie (and no pressure whatsoever!)🤪. Meagan then advised that the five panels across the weekend would be all audience Q & A which got a loud cheer. On with the show! The Rik and Sophie show! 🎉 They came on stage ready for a good time. Rik opened with 'G'day'. Great start I thought and continued his half decent Australian accent. It's a hard accent to imitate as we know. Rik's was a bit exaggerated but that was part of the fun.

‘G’day. ‘How are ya’?’

Sophie in an outfit she bought here. Same brand as Saturday’s dress that she brought with her.

Roger Mac is in da house.

I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I have seen Rik and Sophie in a lot of interviews, OL promos (talking to camera) and taking part on OL panels on YouTube. I can find their rapport a little strained and snarky at times. Luckily, I was very pleasantly surprised that their 2020 version was very endearing and entertaining. I think they’ve worked on this. I also think, that the spectre of Sam and Cait, through no fault of their own, does loom large at cast events. Therefore, it was great to see Rik and Sophie rise to the challenge of working the room in the absence of their cast mates. And I think they really relished this (albeit exhausting) opportunity and the small theatre made it a casual and intimate affair. They answered questions in an engaging manner and often expanded on it, citing on set examples, many I’ve never heard before, and I’ve seen a lot of OL interviews. Almost as soon as they came on stage, Rik was asked if he would play his guitar and sing for us. While flattered, I think it was too early in the piece and he said maybe he would do so during the weekend sometime. Alas, time wasn’t on our side so it didn’t eventuate. ~ Rik was asked if his hair ticks were under control (ep 501)😂. Combing his fingers through his hair, he replied in his strong Scottish brogue that most of them were gone now. Good sport. ~ He was told the OL bts photos he posts on sm (taken on set) were great and much appreciated and to keep them coming to which the audience applauded. I think he quietly enjoyed that moment. All creatives will take that, knowing their skills and hard work meant something to someone, much like our appreciation for OL and these sorts of events!

Then on to costumes, wigs and make up. It was thought that it must be nice to have your scalp/hair attended to in the makeup. ‘No, it’s not’ R&S said in unison.😂 Verra uncomfortable process apparently. The hair is flattened and held down with clips. The hairline edge of the wig is ‘glued’ to the top of your forehead and then alcohol is used to get the glue off after shooting, which dries the skin. Some hair falls out over time with this process also. We know this has happened to Sam to an extent.😬 Rik is hoping to grow his hair long enough so he doesn’t need a wig, which accounts for his current hirsute glory. ~ Sophie said they both share a make up trailer and added that Rik has a magic make up chair. Being early morning, he often goes to sleep in it and upon waking up, hey presto, it’s Roger Mac. At make up time, they do know if the other is a bit touchy, so they try not to annoy each other. Too much.😂 ~ At one stage, we were a bit shy in asking questions. Meagan said if this was in the US, there’d be a line up for the mic.😂

Ozlander Fan Gathering 2020 selfie.

~ Sophie responded to a geeky question about wearing wireless mics secreted in their costumes or hair as well using the usual overhead boom mics you see on bts videos. She was asked about her experience with ADR which she’s not a great fan of it. The audience asked, ‘What’s ADR?’ There are a few accepted terms in the industry, Additional Dialogue Replacement is one. It’s when some dialogue needs to be re-recorded late in post production if the original dialogue audio recording at the time is less than optimal for a variety of reasons (thanks Google). Sophie gave an instance when in S4, Bree told Claire she had been raped. The stream in the background got into the dialogue mics too much in this particular outdoor location, so Sophie had to re-record her dialogue (like lip syncing) saying exactly what she said at the time, whilst watching the scene on a screen in a recording studio. It’s hard to get the context and emotion of the scene back into your voice and that’s why some actors hate doing it and plead to have the original dialogue kept as much as possible. But ADR happens more than you realise and for various reasons (see Google). It is impossible to tell when you watch the show, what scenes have had ADR done, it’s blended so well. They would record the stream/ ambient sounds separately at some point and then mix it in lower against the dialogue after ADR is done. 😅

~ Sophie talked about her audition process and was sat down in an exec’s office and was told OL fans are very passionate! (we are?🤔😁). They have an idea of how book Brianna should look and Sophie confirmed she wasn’t tall enough, eyes the wrong colour, etc and that yeah, as expected, she received some not so nice things on sm. But she tried not to read too much of it and pressed on with the role of Bree. Her tone wasn’t sarcastic or indignant at all, but humble. I was impressed.

Queuing for photos with Rik or Sophie on this occasion. We weren’t allowed to touch but we all had a squirt of hand sanitiser (just to be super safe?).🤔

There were a few photo opportunities over the weekend and a bonus or two thrown in make up for the cast that couldn’t make it. A refund was offered for people with meet and greet tickets for David. However, R & S kindly offered to do a meet and greet for David’s fans instead and they happily accepted. Legends! I don’t know where they found the energy to be constantly ’on’ with so many people over the weekend. Chocolate? Youth? ~ As it was a small event, there weren’t any extra security staff that I could see. I think it was only the Museum staff and the security cameras which were hardly noticeable. ~ When getting my autographs, Rik and Sophie didn’t ask for my name, but when I read their personal messages, they had used my name (which they’d seen on my Ozlander lanyard. How cool is that? Very slick!). There were assorted costumes, the de rigueur wedding dress of Claire’s which added to the ambience. Of course, most of the audience were women but good to see a handful of men there, some even in kilts! Saw some Aussie Peakers in their MPC tees too. Cool.

To settle a pronunciation question, Sophie asked the audience after lunch, ‘Is it scone (as in, phone) or scone (as in, shone)?

An emphatic SCONE (shone) came back. Rik said “Oh, wow, a shouting(?) majority?’

Just to be sure, someone asked who lost, Rik pointed at Sophie. He didn’t gloat too much. Poor Sophie!

Of course, what would an OL event be without the cast having a drink or two to lubricate the tonsils (as we say).

Here are a few more tidbits. All the info I’m sharing has been gleaned from the panels and time spent with Rik and Sophie over the weekend as my tier allowed (which was a lot). ~ Yes, they had tried Vegemite (similar to marmite/promite), courtesy of David Berry. Sophie has some in Scotland. Onya Davo! (good on you David). Incidentally, Sam tried some when he was here in 2016 on Studio 10 (morning talk show - March 2016, his interview is on You Tube). It’s a thing. ~ Rik didn’t know if Sam’s whisky would be his cup of tea, but said it was ‘good actually’. ~ Rik was sometimes surprised by the particular take post production used for the show, but was more surprised by what was edited out of a scene (to add dynamics or guide the narrative a certain way which would apply to all productions everywhere). ~ The pyre scene with the Jesuit Priest at the Mohawk Village Ep 412 was hard to watch on TV. He said it was hard to watch them shoot that scene on set as it was so dangerous!😬 ~ Sophie very occasionally discussed the historical accuracy of things in a scene with directors ie. birthing stool or not in Ep 413 and 1960′s The Mashed Potato moves in S5 are different to how we know them now. She convinced the director’s on those 2 occasions. To me, it shows her passion for the show! ~ When asked about Bree meeting Jamie for the first time in S4, Sophie was asked about the eww factor but didn’t think about Jamie’s hand touching her face after he had relieved himself as he had only used a fruit juice bottle.🤣 ~ R & S were asked to respond to: ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!’ And with relish they replied: ‘Oi, Oi, Oi!’. Someone did their homework. Cool. It’s a parochial call and response thing some aussies do at sporting events etc. ~ R & S often went for an early morning run. Before Sunday’s program began, Meagan asked us all to be very quiet. ‘That sound’, she said, ‘is Rik having his hair blown dry backstage.’ Laughter at Rik’s expense all round. Sophie came on with her’s still damp.

Graham McTavish ‘popped’ in from Slovakia to say hi and sorry I can’t be there. Rik and Graham had a good rapport. After some banter, the audience was now supposed to ask a question and GM rolled his eyes as he heard Rik’s voice again, this time asking him what he conditioned his beard with? ‘Well”, said GM, ‘well Richard, um, I, ahh (chuckle), I condition it with...., obviously a little bit of your love ..’. Much laughter in the theatre.

Then GM commented further, (which I missed, sadly), to even more laughter.

Who knows what would have happened had GM been at the event in person?! There is so much more I could share, but you get the idea.

Sophie wasn’t feeling the best during the last panel just before the close of the event, but she pushed through like a trooper. Rik said she had eaten too much chocolate. A weakness of Sophie’s. I think fatigue was catching up with both of them. They did so much.

Meagan presented Rik and Sophie with an Akubra (pron. uh·koo·bruh) each (iconic Australian outback hat) as a memento of their time here at Ozlander. Rik had the Crocodile Dundee style whilst Sophie’s was more demure. In his best aussie lingo, Rik said: ‘I’m Richard Dundee and this is my partner, Skippy (Sophie).’ (Referencing Skippy the bush kangaroo ? - a much loved Australian TV show 1968-1970).

The Scottish Banner article promised an intimate relaxed chance to get to know stars from the Outlander TV series and I’m happy to say that this is exactly what we got. Whilst it’s a shame we didn’t get to know Ed, Graham or David better, we certainly got to know Rik and Sophie better than we had ever anticipated. As a result, I see Rik and Sophie in a new light, esp in S5, where they have more scenes together. In a small way, I’ve gotten to know a little of the person that inevitably informs their TV persona (ie facial expressions, mannerisms, speaking cadence and inflections). What a memorable time I had (can you tell?). Thanks to Rik and Sophie, the gathering organisers (who got a special mention on stage at the close) and the other fans I met there. Thanks for reading this far on a rather lengthy post.😊 I know it’s my take on the weekend, but I’ve tried not to editorialise it, but present it, as accurately as I can, hence, it may be a bit dry to read.😅 I think Ozlander is a great name and I look forward to Ozlander Fan Gathering 2021.

Ozlander graphics: Ozlander Fan Gathering (I tweaked the circle logo in the title)

Ozlander Fan Gathering 2020 selfie: Ozlander Fan Gathering

other photos: all permissions obtained

Ozlander Fan Gathering article: The Scottish Banner February 2020

Sophie Skelton post: Instagram

global covid-19 cases stats: Wikipedia

#Ozlander #Ozlander Fan Gathering 2020 #Ozlander Melbourne

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nightglider124 · 4 years

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A Present For Dar - 2020 <3

Eyyyyy so in a way, time zones are like sorta working with me for once. Technically, in your zone, your day of birth has passed but in my zone, tis still going so... I’m counting it as on time ahsbsafadlg...

Anywho... HAPPY BIRTHDAY @dar-draws - ONE OF MY BESTEST PALS AND FAVOURITE LIL GREMLINS IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD! I hope you had a truly kickass day because you deserve it, you perfectly perfect gardening tool. I have been basically dead for a while now, I know. But I wanted to resurrect to ensure I gifted you with some wholesome famjam fluff from our favourite pair of disgusting individuals.

I hope you like it and forgive me; it is not properly edited yet but ima do it. XD

I love you gurl and a very hip hop happy birthday <3 <3 <3

____________________________

Sunshine

The glass of the apartment windows rattled under the sheer force of wind that spiked outside, throwing all of its weight against the sides of the building, as if trying to break through. It squirmed and thrashed, almost like it was being restrained from wreaking the havoc and damage it was truly capable of.

It howled and whined as it whistled between the clusters of charcoal clouds that still clung to the bleak night sky which formed the Earth’s backdrop, just until the break of dawn made itself known as it did with every new morning that came.

Rain drops continued to splatter against the window panes, without a single sign of stopping any time soon. The heavens had well and truly opened as the downpour covered the sidewalks in water, rippling puddles lining the paths for those who dared to still be out in the storm that raged on through the night.

The pitter-patter sound of the rain as it impacted the glass was deafening, a truly frightening level of volume as the city continued to endure one of the worst storms it had had in a long time.

A clap of thunder had been faintly heard in the distance not so long ago and it was now a burning curiosity for anyone still awake at such a ghastly hour, to know just when the lightning would be accompanying its natural companion.

And yet, despite the violent performance from Mother Nature, there was one particular man who had voluntarily gone out into it, just as he always did. It was his duty; a vow to the city he lived within, made many years ago that he would protect it, wherever possible.

Such a vow could not be broken, even when the wind and rain tried so desperately to hold him back from what he silently promised the citizens of Bludhaven.

It made his job more difficult at times and of course, he was putting himself in harm’s way more. He knew that he could slip and fall from an outrageous height when the weather was like this; he knew he could be hurled into dangerous territory by the powerful winds but, he also knew that if he skipped a night of watching the city like a mysterious guardian, it could mean an innocent’s death at the hands of a criminal.

He decided that fact alone meant he would face obscene weather patterns, no matter the danger, each and every time if he had to.

There was, however, an upside to the state of the elements when it worsened like it had. Criminals and levels of crime in general tended to decrease, especially when it finally reached 3am.

Nightwing stifled a yawn as he swung through the gaps between tall buildings, being careful to maintain his grip on the handle of his grappling hook. He propelled himself forward, glimpsing at the few stars painted across the sky, ever so slightly hidden by the rain tinted veil beyond his mask.

He aligned his arms to collect speed and momentum as he tumbled towards the empty streets below, his soaked ebony locks whipping around his face, only serving to get his skin wetter than before.

The colors and lights of nearby structures passed his line of sight in a hazy blur as he hurtled towards the ground, smirking and opening his eyes just in time.

He shot his hook upwards, an audible zipping sound coming from the device as it locked onto the stone railing of a nearby pizza parlor. He swept over the ground, narrowly missing its touch by a single breath.

Flying through the air, he felt alive; his heart buzzing and soaring like he was. He had felt flight in many ways and despite the love he had for his own way, he preferred another’s much more.

He envisioned her; the carefree way she spun and dove through the clouds, her scarlet hair coming to him in bright flashes and the way her emerald eyes sparkled as if basking in a secret shared that only the two of them knew about.

He smiled and finally saw the location he desired; suddenly clamoring over rooftops and railings to reach it in haste.

Once his final leap was complete and he was glued to the side of the building, he fiddled with the latch of one of the windows, attempting to ignore the way the rain beat down on him and trickled down the back of his neck and beneath his uniform.

He clenched his jaw, unable to wait for the satisfying warmth that would soon cocoon him.

When the window opened, he slid inside without delay and closed it again, locking it tight behind him. Nightwing released the breath he had been holding inside his chest and strolled towards one of the closest apartments in the hallway, disregarding all the other doors that lined the corridor of the floor he was on.

There was only one that was on his mind and he felt his fluttering in his stomach beginning to stir at the thought of being inside.

As he approached the dark stained entrance, he peered at the silver reflection of the door number before reaching into one of the back compartments of his belt and fishing out his keys.

Slotting it into the groove of the lock, he gave it a few gentle twists as to not alert nor wake anyone within. Biting his lip, he grasped the handle and opened the door.

He pulled the key back and paused, noticing that the lights were all on from where he was stood, all the way into the lounge area. His dark brows furrowed in confusion but he avoided calling out any names, just in case.

It was only after depositing his set of keys in the ceramic bowl that sat atop the oak console table, just to the right of the front door, did he hear it.

His interest and curiosity piqued with the faint sound of music, drifting from the living room and calling to him around the edge of the hallway.

Slipping his mask from his face and stashing it on the table top, Dick silently crept along the border of the corridor, practically plastering himself to the wall as to not be detected.

He ran his gloved fingers against the peach stained walls, a warmth blossoming inside of him as he neared closer to the source of the upbeat music that filled his ears.

It was light and happy, a familiar tune that he heard often playing from the record player but it couldn’t be. She wouldn’t still be up at this hour, surely.

Just as he drew close to the end of the hallway, more noises carried themselves through the air.

Dick could hear the honey laced humming that was so akin to vocal ambrosia and so very familiar to his senses. It was such a relaxing sound that he melted against the wall for a long moment, simply becoming lost in the depth of her tone.

He could hear gentle movement, back and forth and across the floor. Her feet were brushing against the carpet and what weight she owned shifted from floorboard to floorboard.

Dick’s grin only grew wider as he remained rooted to the spot, a hand pressed to the wall as he reveled in the homely sound of her voice.

His brows hit his hairline when he heard a tiny giggle bubble up from another just beyond the bend of the wall. He knew that flourish of laughter as well; all too well.

Unable to resist taking a peek, Dick moved a little more so that he could watch the scene before him. His heart constricted and he sucked in a breath, powerless to stop the serene smile that formed upon his lips. His cerulean gaze became a half lidded one as he soon started to lose himself in the trance of what stood before him.

Her long hair swayed around her hips like a waterfall of rubies, following the line of her body however she moved; a soft ribbon alive with the melodic tune that was coming from the turntable in the far corner of the living room.

Her back was facing him before she spun and twirled around, her toes just about touching the floor as she danced to the music. Her golden skin was glowing in the dim light but her face was one of calm and peace, green eyes hidden for the time being as she enveloped herself in this moment, truly absorbing it like she would never have another.

She had yet to notice him but he could tell she was in her own little world as she continued to hum along to the song echoing and ricocheting off the walls.

His smile grew at the little one in her arms; their first child of love and bundle of joy. Her disheveled locks of fluffy black hair framed her chubby face as she stared up at Kory with a glazed expression, her big jade orbs focused on nothing else besides her mother; almost as if nothing else even existed beside her beacon of light.

Her lips were upturned into an almost vacant smile; a few giggles escaping her whenever Kory leaned down and absently brushed her nose against her daughter’s button one.

Dick leaned against the corner, his arms crossed over his chest as he simply watched them, his heart threatening to explode out of pure love and adoration for the woman and little girl in front of him.

It was impossible to look away from them; his emotions catching in his throat at how at ease he felt, knowing this was his family. Despite the things he would see on patrol or the things he would have to fight out there, it was always a comfort to know this is what he would be coming back to.

When the day was over and the work was done, this little household was what held him together; no matter what kind of stress life threw in his direction. Everything was worth it because he had this. It was the only constant in his life and god, he wouldn’t swap it for anything else in the entire world.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine… you make me happy when skies are grey…” Kory whispered to her daughter, who was now pressing her tiny fingers to the soft skin of her mother’s cheek,

Dick felt his heart flip at how much love was injected into the quiet singing of his wife; a known fact that Mar’i was everything to her and to him, but it made him shiver to hear the way she sang to their child. He’d always known she would suit motherhood like no other on this Earth.

“You'll never know dear, how much I love you…” Kory paused and rested her forehead against her baby’s, “Please don’t take my sunshine away…”

Her tone was hushed and there was something so gentle in the air that Dick was petrified he would shatter by making his presence known.

“I love you, mama…” Mar’i whispered, her little arms gripping ever tighter around her mother’s neck.

Kory smiled and exhaled quietly, pressing several kisses to her face, earning an uproar of laughter as she shifted her around in her arms, attacking her with affection whilst Mar’i continued to squeal with joy.

Dick must have only moved a centimeter but it was enough to earn his wife’s attention. Her head turned towards his direction and her eyes snapped open, softening immensely when she saw who it was.

He smirked and gave her a muted wave in greeting.

Kory sighed in what appeared to be relief before she twisted Mar’i in her arms so she could also see who was home for the night, “Mar’i… look…”

His daughter’s reaction made his knees buckle a fraction and his heart melted from the thousand watt smile that lit up her entire face,

“Daddy!” She squealed, immediately squirming to get to him.

Kory laughed and released her, watching as she padded across the space between in her purple, star covered pajamas, arms outstretched and desperate for cuddles from her father.

Dick was just as fast, scooping her straight up and lifting her high above his head before he pulled her close and cuddle her to his chest, pressing several kisses to her mess of dark hair.

“Hi there, Starshine…” He murmured, stroking her back.

Mar’i pulled back with a frown, “Daddy is all wet!”

He chuckled and leaned in, rubbing his damp cheek against hers, eliciting a loud bubble of laughter from the tiny toddler. She shook her head and wriggled away, all the while, a smile on her face.

“We can blame all the rain for that, honey.”

Mar’i pouted and turned her nose upwards, “Bad rain!”

Kory shook her head and drifted closer to the two of them, retrieving Mar’i back from him to ensure she didn’t get soaked through her warm pajamas, “Greetings, my love…”

Dick failed to stop the dopey grin that lit up his expression as he touched her waist and leaned close, “Hey…”

He captured her lips with his own, the frozen bite of his becoming soothed and rectified by the heat emanating from his beloved wife. Her skin was like fire; a calming heat amidst the treacherous weather outside. He always felt so much better within proximity of her, her surge of warmth lighting a room better than any kind of other device.

She made a small sound at the back of her throat when he slipped his tongue against her bottom lip as he sought permission to deepen their gesture of love. Kory was about to oblige him before they were split apart by the dramatic retching sound of their 2 year old daughter.

When they pulled away, they both glanced at her as she pulled multiple expressions of disgust,

“Blech!” She droned, grinning when they both issued her with a raised brow,

“I have a question for you, Starshine. What are you doing up? It’s way past your bedtime, isn’t it?”

Mar’i shrank a little against Kory’s shoulder, idly playing with the strands of her mother’s ember filled locks,

“Mama said it was okay…” She mumbled, not wanting to get into trouble,

Dick blinked and turned his gaze to his wife who was passively staring back at him before she rubbed Mar’i’s back, “She couldn’t sleep… she was worried about daddy being out in the storm all alone.”

He visibly softened and smiled sympathetically at their child; a very deep thinker despite her youth, “So… I said we would wait up for you together.”

Kory tilted her head at him and waited for him to speak and when he did, it was nothing short of what she imagined him saying,

“Now that I’m home, Mar’i… how about I read you a bedtime story? Hm?” He murmured, tucking some of her black curls behind her ear,

Mar’i sat up straight and beamed at her father, “Story!”

Dick chuckled and gave her cheek a kiss, “That’s right. Story with daddy and then sleepy byes, okay?”

She rapidly nodded, excited for the offer of a story before succumbing to slumber, as most children desired.

Kory ran her fingers through her baby’s hair, marveling at the thickness of it all, “Do you want to pick out the story daddy reads to you?”

“Uh huh!” Mar’i approved, steeling herself as Kory lowered her to the floor. Mar’i shuffled along the carpet, her little legs carrying her as she scurried towards her bedroom, decorated with stars and splashes of violet and plum.

“Pick a good one, Mar’i and I’ll be there in a minute…” Dick called, already sensing his wife’s touch as her fingertips grazed his chest,

He turned back towards her, grinning at how close she was now, “Hello again, Kor…”

She leaned towards him, barely whispering, “Hello…” before she pressed her cupid bow lips against his, her fingers sliding up from the front of his uniform to the line of his jaw, cupping his handsome face to hold him still as she snuck in some kisses.

Dick’s eyes closed on their own accord, falling deeper into the bliss that was his wonderful wife. He could feel the metal of her wedding ring against the skin of his cheek and he felt electric shoot through him; a reminder that she was his and he was hers, now and forever.

Sometimes, he found himself dwelling on just how lucky he’d been to have found her and how utterly thankful he was to have her in his life; to have her as his wife and to have her as the mother of his child.

He could think of no better person to stand at his side for eternity and as he slipped his cold hands beneath the old t-shirt of his that clung to her torso, he smirked.

She gasped and pulled back, breathless, “That was not very nice.”

He brushed his nose against hers, his breath full of husk, “If I let you kiss me any longer, then we’d probably be on the floor and scarring Mar’i for life.”

Kory rolled her forest green eyes at him and gently smacked his arm, “You make it sound as if I have no self control around you.”

“Honey, I don’t think you do… that’s how we ended up with our little baby in there.” He replied, jerking his head in the direction of Mar’i’s room,

His Princess snorted and folded her arms over her chest, “Oh? I seem to forget… please… remind me who started talk about having a child?”

Dick chuckled and squeezed her hips, “Alright, ya got me…”

Kory matched the serene smile that appeared on his face and ran her feathery touch along his chin, staring into his ocean eyes, “I am glad you are safe… I worry when you are patrolling in weather like this…”

His smile faltered a little, “I know… sorry I took longer… I ran into a drug deal going south and… I had to deal with it. They had someone hostage if this group didn’t deliver.”

Kory pecked the corner of his mouth, “I know… it is okay. All that matters is that you are home.” She paused, “Are you hungry?”

Dick grinned, “Famished…”

“Cereal or… leftover pizza?”

“Hm… decisions, decisions.”

She giggled and shook her head, opening her mouth to respond when they heard the rapidly approaching sound of tiny feet on wooden flooring,

“Daddy! Ready!” Mar’i squeaked, holding the picture book she wanted read to her, high above her head,

Dick glanced over his shoulder and lifted an eyebrow, “The Gruffalo, again?”

Mar’i pouted, “It’s my favorite!”

He laughed and gently let go of his wife, “Alright, alright, c’mon. Get snuggled under the covers, then.”

Their daughter beamed at him before she spun and headed back into her room to do just that.

Dick smiled and looked back at Kory, “Duty calls… I’ll be back soon.”

Kory sighed in content as he pressed a quick kiss to the palm of her hand before letting it go entirely.

“Hurry… or I may just eat both of your snacking options.” She murmured, turning and wandering into the kitchen, winking at him over her shoulder.

Dick smirked and shook his head as he ambled towards Mar’i’s room, grateful to have all of this; always ready and always waiting for him after the longest of nights.

#dickkory #dick grayson #koriand'r #nightwing #starfire #mar'i grayson #nightstar #fluff #oneshot #dcau #i guess??#its the universe i write for most nowadays so sure #HOPE YOU LIKE IT DAR #and happy birthday u awesome human #muchos love #nightglider124

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