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#like she read the prompt: what do think more people should know
lancermylove · 17 hours
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True Love's Kiss (HC)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Pairing: All x fem!Reader, minus Ortho
Warning: None
Requested by: @cartoonykat
Prompt: Hi, I love your work, I read almost every one of your fics/hcs, especially Twisted Wonderland and Obey Me. I read on your post that requests are open, so I was wondering if you could do Twisted Wonderland Boys (minus Ortho) x Reader, where Reader and the Adeuce duo were in potions class, due to shenanigans happening, it causes Reader to fall into a Sleeping Beauty spell, where she's asleep, and the only cure is True love's kiss?
A/N: Thank you! 🥰
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Prologue:
"W-Will she be okay?" Deuce nervously asked as he watched Crewel examining you. On the other hand, Ace had a serious expression and remained silent. The remainder of the students in class remained in a corner, and while some were glaring at Adeuce for their shenanigans, the others watched the professor.
After what felt like an eternity, Crewel sighed, "How did you puppies manage to concatenate such a potion? Regardless, there is a cure that should awaken the Sleeping Beauty."
"Sleeping...Beauty...?" Ace repeated the professor's words before his eyes widened. "You don't mean...a true love's kiss?"
A slight smirk tugged on Crewel's lips. "So it seems you have intelligence, yet you choose to waste it. Yes, the only way to wake (y/n) is for her true love to kiss her."
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Leona
Leona was far from happy when he heard what had happened to you. The moment he stepped into the class, he growled at Adeuce, causing the duo to back into a corner.
However, the prince was far more concerned about your well-being. Setting aside his anger, Leona stepped closer to you. As he leaned down, there was a softness in his eyes.
He didn't care who was watching and what they would think; all Leona wanted was to know that you were all right from your own mouth.
The prince pressed a light kiss to your lips before pulling away and intensely studying your face. When your eyebrows furrowed, Leona quietly sighed in relief and helped you sit up.
Even before you could ask what happened, the lion spun on his heels and growled at the duo again. Leona pounded his fist against his left hand as he glared fiercely at Ace and Deuce.
They were not getting out of this situation without learning an unforgettable lesson. Moreover, Crewel didn't do anything to stop Leona and watched in amusement.
Ruggie
Ruggie rushed into the room and didn't even bother to look at Adeuce. His ears slightly lowered as his eyes focused on you. You were going to be okay, right?
The hyena didn't waste any time and immediately kissed you, but he chose to plant a playful kiss on your cheek. It wasn't like Crewel, or anyone said that he had to kiss you in a particular place.
Knowing that there were students watching, Ruggie wanted to be respectful to you. When you stirred, he sighed and gave you a quick hug.
While Crewel explained what happened to you, Ruggie threw glares at the duo. He wasn't going to do anything to them at the moment, but the hyena would get them back when they least expected it.
Jack
Jack flung the door open to the room so hard that he nearly ripped the door from the hinges. That was enough to have Ace and Deuce shaking.
When Crewel informs him that he needs to kiss you to wake you up, Jack's cheeks turn red. There were so many people present, so how was he supposed to kiss you openly? Besides, he didn't ask for your permission, so was it really okay?
The wolf knew he didn't have any other choice, so he leaned down and pecked your lips.
After you woke up, Jack lightly patted your head. After Crewel explained what happened, he turned to the wolf and smirked. "Ah, did I forget to mention that it wasn't necessary to kiss her on the lips?"
Jack's face turned redder than before as he averted his eyes from Crewel. While he was embarrassed, Jack was far angrier at Ace and Deuce for always causing trouble for you.
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Malleus
As soon as Crewel confirmed your true love had to kiss you, Adeuce knew who was coming and immediately hid under a table. The last thing they wanted was to face Malleus's wrath.
The dragon quietly walked into the classroom, his eyes solely focused on you. How dare someone put you in this condition! Even though Malleus's expression was blank, everyone in the classroom could feel his anger radiating through the area. It had most of them quaking in their shoes. Even Crewel seemed uneasy.
Without wasting time, Malleus brushed your hair from your face and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead. While you stirred from your slumber, his hand continued to rest on your head as if to provide comfort.
Once you were fully awake, the prince scooped you in his arms and wordlessly walked out of the classroom.
Meanwhile, Lilia leaned against the doorframe. He was there to ensure that Malleus wouldn't lose control of his temper. The ex-war general looked toward the desk where Adeuce hid and whispered the words. "The two of you pushed your limits this time around. You better be careful."
Lilia
Even though Lilia was worried, he still maintained a calm demeanor as he walked into the classroom. He didn't need Crewel to tell him what he had to do to wake you up.
He took a moment to study you and found it amusing that he was part of a real-life Sleeping Beauty tale. Lilia had always assumed that Malleus would play the prince for obvious reasons.
Wordlessly, he walked up to you and playfully pecked your lips. Lilia made sure to keep his face close so when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was his teasing smile.
"If you wanted a kiss, you should have asked directly," he whispered with a chuckle.
Once you had sat up, Lilia glanced at Adeuce. Though he didn't say anything, a smile tugged on his lips. However, the smile didn't reach Lilia's lips, and his gaze made a chill run down the duo's backs. They were in deep waters and knew it.
Silver
Silver almost felt like he was in a dream when he walked into the classroom and saw you lying on a wooden table. All that was missing was a rose in your hand.
Even though he wasn't keen on kissing you in front of so many students, mainly due to his worries about them teasing you, Silver stepped forward out of a sense of duty and care.
At that moment, he was your knight in shining armor and took your hand before bowing his head and placing a loving kiss on the back of it. The scene was so beautiful that it even moved Crewel.
Once you woke up, the professor explained what Ace and Deuce had done. Normally, you would have been mad, but seeing that Silver was still holding onto your hand, you couldn't be angry.
Well, for now. Later, you planned to get them back for it and then give them a hug. If it wasn't for them, Silver would not have kissed you. Although, somewhere deep down, you wished he had kissed your lips.
Sebek
While he wasn't happy about what happened to you, Sebek didn't want to kiss you in public. He had an image to maintain - one of a dedicated and fearsome guard - and kissing you would give him the label of a softy. Something he didn't want.
Malleus had to eventually push him, and since the orders came directly from the prince, Sebek couldn't say no.
He slowly walked into the classroom, trying to keep his fearsome aura. But the closer he got to you, the more worried Sebek became.
Despite feeling awkward, Sebek got down on one knee, took your hand, and placed a quick kiss on it. But once you stirred, Sebek quickly released your hand, stood up, and stepped back.
He didn't even wait for you to fully wake up and exited the room. Sebek felt too embarrassed to face you.
That entire day, Lilia teased him about being such a shy softy, much to Sebek's dismay.
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Azul
He wasn't surprised to hear that Adeuce had caused another issue. The duo was notorious for their shenanigans, and he had experienced it firsthand. A part of him wished that he could keep the anemones on their head until they graduated.
However, Azul wasn't happy that they had directly caused such a strong effect on you. He was relieved that Crewel was there to overlook the situation and figure out a cure.
The octopus didn't waste time and hurriedly walked into the classroom, ready to help you in any way, until he heard that he had to give you a kiss.
Azul wasn't expecting that and decided to approach this like a business transaction. However, as he lowered his lips closer to your face, a small voice echoed in the back of his head: what if he wasn't your true love?
His heart raced out of control as he pecked your cheek quick and stood up straight, clearing his throat. Azul's eyes were fixed on your face, waiting for the verdict to his question. But when you were opened, he was relieved and smiled warmly.
The next moment, he looked at Adeuce with a chilling gaze to let them know they were going to pay for this later.
Jade
Jade didn't react when he heard the news about what happened to you. Floyd was with him and accompanied his twin to your classroom.
Seeing both eels, Adeuce exchanged a look and gulped loudly. They hoped that no one told the twins that they were responsible for what happened to you.
Without hesitation, Jade leaned down to kiss your lips but kept it short as he knew others were watching him. Neither eel moved until you stirred and slowly opened your eyes.
Jade helped you sit up and asked if you were all right. Meanwhile, Floyd turned his head to Adeuce and gave him a cold, toothy grin. As Jade helped you to your feet, Ace and Deuce ran out of the classroom with Floyd chasing after them.
Floyd
Floyd casually strolled into your classroom and studied you expressionlessly. Seeing the lack of expression on his face, the students and Crewel were tense.
Much to their relief, Floyd walked up to you and swiftly kissed you. He didn't pull his lips away until you had fully opened your eyes and saw him kissing you.
Once he pulled away and helped you sit up, the eel turned his head to Adeuce slowly. Like a creepy doll in a horror movie, Floyd's head very slowly turned to the duo.
When he met their gazes, his lips parted and twisted into a deadly smile. The duo knew what was coming their way, and they ran behind Crewel for protection.
However, the professor stepped out of the way. "You deserve this." From his voice, it seemed like Crewel was enjoying the sight of Adeuce trembling.
By the time Floyd was done with them, the duo felt like someone had squeezed their organs out of them.
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Idia
His anxiety level rockets to the sky. Not only were you in trouble, but he had to come to a classroom filled with people. The horrors! Thankfully, Ortho was supportive, and Idia managed to walk into the classroom, albeit trembling.
Seeing you on the wooden table, his anxiety increased more; however, just when he thought things couldn't get worse, Crewel told him about the true love's kiss. Idia felt the entire world spinning. He would have to kiss you in front of everyone? What had he done to deserve such a crewel cruel fate?
Ortho monitored his brother's biometrics and could tell Idia would not be able to keep it together any longer. So, he went out of his way and bumped into Idia on purpose.
His push was so perfectly calculated that Idia lost his balance and ended up with his lips on yours. Realizing what he was doing, Idia squealed and stood up straight, nearly fainting.
Meanwhile, Crewel stood in the back and sighed. Just when one person woke up, another fainted. This would be a long day for him, especially with Crowley wanting an explanation for everything.
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Kalim
As soon as Kalim heard about your condition, he dropped everything and ran to your classroom, knocking over a few students on the way.
He rushed into the room without paying attention to his surroundings. Kalim's widened eyes were on you and you only. Before Crewel could warn him about the flasks on the ground, Kalim stepped on one and lost his balance.
The next thing he knew, his lips were firmly pressed against yours. When you opened your eyes, Kalim was half on top of you with a WIDE grin. He was relieved to see you and didn't realize the position the two of you were in.
Sighing, Crewel pulled Kalim away from you after seeing the shocked expressions on the other students' faces. Even then, Kalim threw his arms around you and hugged you tightly, happy that you were okay.
Jamil
Jamil was far from happy when he heard what Ace and Deuce did. Sometimes, he wanted to label them as Kalim 2 and Kalim 3, but at least Kalim got into trouble out of his clumsiness and innocence. Meanwhile, Ace got into trouble on purpose, and Deuce's anger got the better of him.
He rushed into the classroom and asked Crewel about your condition. A kiss? While Jamil was relieved that you would be fine in no time, he felt a bit awkward to kiss you with so many eyes on him.
Sighing heavily, he glared at Adeuce before making his way to you. Leaning in, he pressed his lips on yours but didn't let the kiss last long.
As soon as you opened your eyes, you saw a deep crimson on Jamil's cheek and wondered what happened.
While Jamil didn't plan to get the duo back immediately, he knew what he would do to make them pay. Ace was going to get it during Basketball Club practice, and Deuce would get it when he least expected it.
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Vil
With a huff, he gracefully walked into the classroom with Rook following him. Vil glared at Aduece as he made his way to the table you lay on.
He had the urge to lecture Crewel for not keeping the disaster duo in check, but he wanted to wake you up first. With one hand across his abdomen, Vil bowed and softly kissed your lips.
Gasps could be heard from the students as the scene looked like something straight out of a movie. Rook wanted to poetically express the beauty of the scene but knew Vil was already upset and didn't want to make him angry.
Once you opened your eyes, Vil straightened his posture and snapped his head to Adeuce. Glaring daggers at them, he towered over the two and warned them to stop causing you trouble.
Vil didn't ask Crewel for permission and took you along with him. Meanwhile, Adeuce were on the ground on their butts, still looking up at where Vil once stood. They were sweating profusely.
Rook
Rook burst into the room, scaring most of the students and startling Crewel. He immediately broke into tragic poetry in a loud voice, further startling everyone.
Once Rook finished, Crewel informed him about the true love's kiss, and the hunter once again broke into poetry. Knowing this would not end soon, the professor sat in a chair, one leg crossed over the other while massaging his temple with his right hand.
Eventually...Rook bowed and took your hand before giving it a long kiss. Even when you opened your eyes, you saw Rook kissing the back of your hand repeatedly while speaking in French.
The duo thought they had escaped Rook, but a few moments after the hunter left the classroom, two arrows flew in. Both arrows held a note and were close to Adeuces' faces. One inch closer, and the tip would have gone through their noses.
The letters with the arrows had a threat, warning them to watch their back at every moment.
Epel
Epel hurried into the classroom in a panic, thinking you were in a coma. When Rook informed him about your condition, Epel's mind froze at "eternally asleep" and didn't hear anything else.
Seeing Epel's panic, Crewel attempted to calm him down and explained what he needed to do. But that made Epel half panic and half embarrassed. What would his grandmother say if she learned he kissed you in front of so many people?
Out of habit, Ace began to tease Epel, which made him snap. "It's all chur fault! Few hadn't...um...I mean..."
Epel became quiet and turned his attention to you. Taking a deep breath, he leaned down and kissed your cheek quickly. A part of him wished he didn't have to kiss your lips. Luckily for him, you woke up.
Epel was the only one who didn't get mad at Adeuce or try to get back at them in any way.
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Riddle
Riddle flung the door and sent it flying against the wall behind it, leaving a crack in the drywall. His face was bright red, and while he was worried about you, Riddle was far angrier at Adeuce.
Not only did they cause you trouble, but they also shamed Heartslabyul. The next moment, the words "OFF. WITH. YOUR. HEAD." echoed through the classroom. Adeuce sighed heavily but didn't protest as they knew they deserved it.
When Crewel told Riddle what he had to do to wake you up, the house warden's anger melted into embarrassment. However, he was determined to wake you up.
Putting aside his shyness, Riddle sighed and kissed you on the forehead. He held his breath until you opened your eyes and sat up.
For the time being, Riddle let Ace and Deuce get away with only the magic-uppressing collar. But later, he planned to punish them even more.
Trey
Trey calmly walked in, not surprised that Adeuce had caused more trouble. He didn't get mad at the duo right away and focused on waking you up.
Even when Crewel told him that he needed to kiss you, Trey didn't hesitate and gently kissed your lips. Once you woke up, he helped you to your feet and tussled your hair a little.
Seeing Trey this calm, Adeuce thought they were not in trouble and were relieved. However, later that day, Trey worked them to the bones in the kitchen, all the while watching them struggle with a smile on his lips.
Cater
Though he was calm on the outside, Cater was panicking internally. He quickly rushed into the classroom, and when he saw you sleeping peacefully on the table, Cater was nearly tempted to pull out his phone and record everything.
When Crewel informed him about the kiss, he was excited but tried his best not to show his excitement openly. Leaning down, he gave you a playful kiss on your lips and reluctantly pulled back after a few seconds.
Once you woke up, he gave you a wink and immediately took a selfie before posting it on MagiCam with #truelove and #trueloveskiss.
Cater didn't directly get back at the duo, but he made their lives harder for a few weeks in the dorm, his favorite being ratting them out to Riddle when they break any and every rule.
Ace
OH CRAP! Wait, did that mean he had to kiss you in front of the others? Ace wasn't sure how to feel about this. A part of his was excited to kiss you, but the other was uncomfortable with so many prying eyes.
To calm himself down, he made a few jokes and playful comments. However, Crewel sighed, "Would you kindly wake (y/n)? You have wasted enough time."
Seeing the professor hitting his teaching pointer on the palm of his left hand, Ace immediately rushed to you and kissed you. Before he could make the kiss last longer, Crewel yanked him back from you.
When you woke up and the professor told you everything, you glared at Ace, rolled up your sleeves and began to chase him around the classroom. While Deuce stayed out of your way, the other students laughed and recorded the incident. Even Crewel seemed a bit amused.
Deuce
Deuce started to apologize, but when he heard about the kiss, he froze up. His mind short-circuited, and he didn't know what to do or say.
"Geez, kiss her already," Ace mumbled.
Hearing those words, Deuce snapped and started to blame Ace for what had happened. Before the fight could get out physical or out of hand, Crewel stepped in and commanded Deuce to wake you up.
As sweat rolled down his face, he kissed your cheek, making Ace laugh. "What a scaredy c-"
Crewel lightly hit Ace's arm with the teaching pointer before he could finish the sentence to prevent another fight.
When you woke up, and Crewel told you about what transpired, you glared at the duo. While Ace raised his hands in defense, Deuce apologized to you profusely.
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182 notes · View notes
dancingbirdie · 7 months
Note
Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺
Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo
Something Imagined / Something Real
Word Count: 3.9K
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav
Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst
Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA
Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.
The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him. 
“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.” 
Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”
“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire. 
“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way. 
But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought. 
“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously. 
Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering. 
“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. 
“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly. 
Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.
“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence. 
“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.” 
“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”
Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.
After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it. 
It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt. 
Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.
“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him. 
The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”
“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?” 
“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder. 
Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.
“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished. 
“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.” 
Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror. 
As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed. 
Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.
Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering. 
He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed. 
That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot. 
Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes. 
The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination. 
Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master. 
But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?
She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.
It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.
So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp. 
“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”
Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain. 
“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.
“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion. 
Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling. 
“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.
Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.
But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.
Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.
“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face. 
“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”
Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand. 
The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water. 
Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand. 
Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?
“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. 
“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”
“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off. 
“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze. 
“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”
Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.
But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try. 
***
He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad. 
Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her. 
“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question. 
The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well. 
“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly. 
Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her. 
“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.
“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees. 
Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far. 
“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.
“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.
“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed. 
Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind. 
Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years. 
Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.
“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”
Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.
“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”
She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare. 
“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.
“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”
“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”
Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.
“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted. 
Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight. 
“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”
She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady. 
“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.” 
Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on. 
“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”
She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession. 
But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment. 
“Why?” he asked quietly.
She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face. 
“Why what?”
“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest. 
Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”
Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly. 
“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.” 
Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much. 
“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy. 
“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her. 
She held his gaze, speechless. 
“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”
Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation. 
“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone. 
“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.
Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him. 
“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”
“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.
“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.
“Could I hug you?” she whispered.
The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded. 
Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.
Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time. 
Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.   
She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer. 
“This… this is nice,” he whispered. 
He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response. 
It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next. 
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girasollake · 7 months
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Hello
Would you be able to write for Theodore Nott with the trope fake dating and the prompt 50?
Thank youu <3
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✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x fake dating x "my love language is bullying people." "you bully me. a lot." "..."✧
( this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )
❁ i hope this turned out well, happy reading:)
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
Pacing around your dorm and chewing on your thumb, you tried to figure out how to get out of the situation you got yourself into. You didn’t mean to answer the question with his name, it just happened. It’s like you weren’t even thinking and your mind made that quick decision for you.
For the last month your ex boyfriend had been harrasing you to get back together. You dumped him after catching him in the act with a girl from a year below yours. You felt anger, sadness and loath, not because of the relationship he decided to end, but because it hurt to see someone you started to trust - pick someone over you.
Over the time he was stalking you and trying various ways to get back, you had found yourself being more and more drawn towards your best friend’s mate.
“ ‘We’re done Patrick! I don’t know what I have to say for it to get through your fucking skull.’ You hissed at your ex.
‘We’re not done.’ He took a step closer. ‘Do you really think someone else will want you besides me?’ A chuckle escaped his lips.
You stood there frozen, the insult burning itself into your mind.
‘My boyfriend.’ You finally replied after a moment of silence.
‘You don’t have one, love.’ He placed his finger under your chin and made you look up at him. ‘But you can have me again.’
‘No.’ You spat and took a step back. ‘I am seeing someone else.’
That’s the moment where you should have stopped talking.
‘Oh, really?’ He cocked his brow, a mocking expression on his face. ‘Who?’
Don’t say it.
Don’t say it.
‘Theo Nott.’ “
You sat down on your bed, the finger slightly covered in your blood from the biting. You had only two options, either admit to your ex that you lied to him and still get harrassed by him, or ask Nott out.
You rubbed your temples slowly, sighed and decided to go to the library to clear your mind, hoping that Patrick won’t be able to talk to Theo until tomorrow.
At this time of the day there was barely anyone inside the library. You were slowly walking between the shelfes, looking at each book and reading the title. After a few minutes of strolling you reached the Romance Novels section, very few books there, but it lured you in. Especially one of them, which you have read a long time ago.
‘Of course.’ You chuckled, holding the book in your hands and tracing the cover with your fingers.
The story was about a woman who was a spy and had to make a deal with a member of an organisation they were infiltrating. She promised to get him the safety he needed to escape his boss and he promised her to give her all the information she needed. They started fake dating.
You should’ve thought of this idea earlier, but you were too stressed to even sit in one spot, let alone think of this good of a plan. You put the book back in it’s place and rushed out of the library. While you were running through the halls, you spotted a familiar figure talking with her friends.
‘Hi, can I borrow Pansy for a moment? Thanks!’
You snatched her by the arm and led her to an empty classroom.
‘This better be an emergency.’ She playfully rolled her eyes.
‘Long story short - Patrick thinks I’m dating Theo and I have to prove him that I am.’
She looked at you dumbfounded and then a loud laugh escaped her lips.
‘Is this a joke?’ She asked, laughter still present in her voice.
It slowly faded as she realised how stoic and serious was the expression on your face.
‘Shut up!’ She exclaimed. ‘Merlin, what have you done?’
She put her palm on her forehead and exhaled all the air she had.
‘You know Theo does NOT date.’
‘I know! I don’t even know why I said his name! It just… It just came out, okay?’ You sighed and closed your eyes while throwing your head back. “But I do have an idea…’ you mumbled and slowly opened your eyes to look at Pansy.
‘Good Lord.. I don’t know if I even want to hear it.’ She sighed. ‘Go on.’ She showed a motion with her hand to tell you to proceed.
‘Fake dating.’
She bursted out in laughter.
‘What?’ She finally managed to get out. ‘How on earth do you want to persuade him into that?’
‘I’ll just… I’ll offer him something if he says no.’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know yet, whatever he says he’d like.’
‘So like, you’d give him a b-‘
‘Bloody hell Pans!’ You whisper-yelled. ‘I’ll do anything that does not involve sexual exchange.’
‘Alright, just askin’’ She raised her hands in defence.
‘Where can I find him?’
It was Saturday, so you couldn’t catch him in class. Pansy looked at her watch and made a thinking face.
‘Ummm… If I’m correct…’ She sighed. ‘They should finish their quidditch practice in a few minutes.’
You jumped up and gave her a quick hug before running out.
‘Thanks P, you’re the best!’ You shouted just before disappearing behind the door.
‘Course I am.’ She whispered and smirked to herself.
She looked around the room where she was now alone and shook her head.
‘Fingers crossed’ She muttered and headed outside.
You on the other hand, had reached the quidditch pitch in the right moment. Standing outside the boys locker room, you couldn’t help but listen to their faint voices. Unfortunately it was too quiet for you to make out any words. The door swung open unexpectedly and your head shot up to meet Draco’s eyes.
‘Can I talk to Nott?’ You asked and lifted up your chin higher.
Draco looked you up and down and then turned his head towards the boys.
‘Nott, come and say hi to one of your girls.’ He said and everyone started snickering at Theo.
‘Shut up, Malfoy.’ He glared at him and then your eyes met his.
He came over to you and you almost forgot about why you came here because, well, he was shirtless and his bottom was wrapped in a towel, leaving very little to your imagination. You gulped and quickly straightened up to not get caught checking him out.
‘I really need your help with something. Can we talk after you…’ You motioned towards his outfit, or better - the lack of it.
He cleared his throat and nodded, ‘Wait for me on the pitch?’
‘Sure.’ You gave him a soft smile and headed outside.
Thankfully there was a few benches on the sides of the pitch, they were there during practice, but hidden when there was a match. You sat down and buried your face in your hands.
‘What the fuck am I doing?’ You mumbled.
You started playing with your rings and thinking about what to say when you felt him sit down next to you.
‘So, what do you need?’ He asked while lighting up his cigarette.
‘Just don’t laugh at me, ‘kay?’ You said while closing your eyes.
He furrowed his brows in confusion, ‘Okay?’ He replied.
‘I need you to be my fake boyfriend.’ You quickly stated.
He looked at you dumbfounded and then proceeded to laugh.
‘You said you wouldn’t laugh, you bastard!’ You exclaimed and playfully hit his arm.
‘ ‘M sorry’ He met your eyes. ‘That punch hurt’ he held the place where you hit him.
‘Good.’ You replied. ‘So, will you help me or not?’
‘Why? Is it to make your ex jealous?’ He exhaled the smoke. ‘Never liked him, if I’m bein’ honest.’
‘Actually, the opposite.’ You took the cigarrete from him, took a drag and then placed it between his lips again. ‘He cheated on me and now he keeps stalking me to get back together. I’m so sick of him and I just don’t know what to do.. I just want him to fuck off.’ You looked at Theo for a response.
‘Fine.’
‘Wait, really?’ You asked excitedly.
‘Yeah, fuck that guy.’ He finished his cigarette and threw it on the ground. ‘We need some rules though.’
‘Alright.’ You paused to think about some. ‘How about we often hold hands, you kiss me on the cheek sometimes for the effect, and we can sometimes hang out in each others rooms, so no one would get suspicious. Of course we’d like study or some shit, but..’ You started rambling. ‘You get the idea.’ You added quietly.
‘You forgot about the most important one.’ He stated. ‘Don’t fall in love with me.’
‘Yeah, I think that’ll be easy considering your stupid face.’ You chuckled, but inside of you something twisted.
Don’t fall in love with me? Does he mean that, he knows he would never love you? Maybe that’s why he agreed? Cause he knows he won’t fall for you?
Am I this unlovable?
The next morning you were slowly making your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. On the outside you looked calm, but the inside was burning. With questions you couldn’t answer, with plans for what to do, with your hopes for finding someone good to love you back, with your growing attraction to Theo. You knew it was a bad idea, you knew you had a crush on him, but you’d rather hide that somewhere deep than admit it to yourself. You knew you were going to fall for him doing this, but if that’s what it takes for Patrick to leave you alone - then so be it. You can take the pain of Theo not reciprocating your feelings.
‘Hello, love.’ The voice from your nightmares spoke up next to you.
‘Fuck off, Patrick.’ You replied without even looking at the boy.
‘Oh, come on, can you finally stop playing this game and-‘
‘She told you to fuck off.’ You heard Theo’s voice on your other side and then his hand grabbed your waist to pull you closer.
Patrick’s face in that moment was going to be in your memory forever, he was so shocked, so defeated, so small. He looked between the two of you and scoffed.
‘We’ll see about that.’ He mumbled and walked away.
‘Thank you’ You looked up at Theo.
‘For what? I think that’s what boyfriend’s are supposed to do’ He winked at you and intertwined your hands.
‘You read a book or something to prepare for that role? Didn’t think of you as an academic type.’ You snickered.
‘I beg you pardon?’ He chuckled. ‘Am I that stupid to you?’
You waved your head from side to side and smirked at him.
‘Mm, yeah.’ You whispered to which he shook his head with a smile.
‘Come on, darlin’, we’re gon’ be late for breakfast.’
Darling.
For the next month you and Theo had gotten closer than you anticipated, but he was still too far for your liking. You wanted him closer, you wanted this to be a real relationship, but he wouldn’t want that.
“Theo does NOT date.”
Pansy’s words echoed in your ears every time you caught yourself staring at his messy hair. Or thinking about the way his fingers caressed the pages of a book, or the way his beauty spots were perfectly placed on his face, or the way he always knew what to say to you, or the way he cheerfully reacted to your insults and playful smacks on his arms.
‘When do you want to end this?’ He asked one night when you were studying for potions in his dorm.
The question caught you off guard and the air got stuck in your throat for a second.
‘I actually didn’t think about that part yet.’ You admitted, not taking your eyes off of your notes. ‘There is only a month of school left until holidays, so maybe until then? I’ll have those months for myself without Patrick bothering me and next year we’ll make up some excuse why it didn’t work out between us. Sounds good?’ The lack of emotion in your voice was weird for him.
‘Yeah.’ He whispered, his eyes lingering on your form. ‘Sounds good.’
He didn’t want to admit to himself that he started falling for you either. That’s why he asked about this, he didn’t think he could hold himself back much longer. Hold his feelings back.
‘Earth to Nott!!’ You smacked his arm with your notebook. ‘Do the bloody homework or I’ll feed you to my cat.’
‘Yes ma’am.’
There were moments where you thought he might feel the same. Like when he held your hand tighter than usual, when Patrick was passing by. Or when he kissed your forehead to calm you down when you were stressed before classes. Or the subtle smirks and glances between the two of you, when you weren’t next to each other. At first you thought no one would believe in your ‘relationship’, but surprisingly everyone didn’t have a clue it was fake. Were you both this good at pretending or did they just think you look nice together?
‘Probably the first one.’ You thought.
Soon there was only a week of school left and you didn’t want to think about what the end brings. You felt sadness, but you couldn’t show him that, you knew he didn’t feel the same. This was just temporary, he did what you asked for and now you owe him a favor. So now you had to let him go.
You met up near the Black Lake the day before going home. You were playing with your rings again and he was smoking a cigarette, just like in the beggining.
‘We’re still going to be friends?’ You asked.
‘If that’s what you want, darlin’ ‘ He replied, but deep inside he wanted to say no, to protect himself from whatever it was he felt towards you, it was too strong now.
‘Hmm.. No, not really.’ You muttered and then added, ‘I can’t stand looking at your hideous face much longer, but other than that, you’re fine to be around.’
He chuckled at your response.
‘Why are you always like this?’
‘What do you mean?’ You raised one of your eyebrows.
‘You know exactly what I mean.’
You chuckled to yourself, ‘My love language is bullying people.’
He processed your answer carefully and saw the way you stiffened. You didn’t realise you said that out loud.
‘Well…’ He took a deep breath. ‘You bully me. A lot.’
You didn’t want to meet his eyes so you shrugged and turned away, ‘Yeah, I guess I do.’ You whispered.
You heard Theo toss the cigarette on the ground and press his shoe on top of it. But what he did next, even Professor Trelawney couldn’t predict.
He turned you around and pressed his lips into yours, the taste of smoke and blueberry gum made its way into your mouth. His hands were holding your face on both sides, he didn’t want to take them off, scared you’d disappear if he did.
‘I thought you don’t date.’ You whispered with a smirk when you broke the kiss and pressed your foreheads together.
‘I don’t.’ He smiled. ‘I’m already taken.’
He pressed his lips to yours again and you felt like this moment could last forever.
‘By the way, you broke the rule.’ He mumbled.
‘Fuck your rule and fuck you, Nott.’ You replied making him smile to himself.
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
© girasollake 2023
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capslocked · 6 months
Text
KINKVEMBER DAY: 4
[prompt: roleplay] male reader x kang hyewon 8k words
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“I need you,” Hyewon says in the uneasy dark of a hotel room, with two urgent fistfuls of your shirt, “need you to do to me all the things my husband never will.” “Yeah, I know,” you tell her, “you said that,” and her eyebrows move in all the wrong directions, “I’m just wondering if, you know, maybe we should give him a little more credit.”
-
Here’s the truth:
Hyewon doesn’t believe in leaving evidence behind and you don't find it particularly productive to doubt her; you’ve been talking in code for years. Parts and pieces of yourselves reduced down and bottled into set phrases that, to anyone else, would be totally incomprehensible.
"i've been thinking," she texts you, which you've come to understand means she's already made up her mind, "maybe we should do that thing we were talking about. tonight."
(You're not always so fast on the uptake.)
You send two back two texts, both of which ask "which thing?" because the hallway from the breakroom to your desk has poor reception and it never lets you send just one.
Then, right after you cross the threshold between signal-drowning-concrete and the glitzy glass-walled arboretum they've built to make you feel like you're not a total cog in their corporate machine, your phone pings the receipt of Hyewon's reply: a picture - her laptop, propped up on your coffee table with its screen angled for perusal, of a booking site that's filtered to show results for their 'king bed & view' room at a midrange hotel a forty-five-minute ride from your apartment.
"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."
She replies to you - her text bubble appearing over another couple still images, of herself in the vanity mirror as she curls her hair around her finger and holds this little black slip of a dress over her shoulder, black lacy lingerie in tow, the whole nine - with:
"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."
-
Five o’clock rolls around but you never really do figure it out. You spend the last three hours at work deciding which kink of hers (oh, does she have a few) this is all in service to.
There's nothing overtly sexual about her pics in the first place - not more than usual anyway, more showing off her curves and cut jaw than showcasing anything for her 'adventurous' intent. So that can't be the tell - you'd seen her in a corset once (you can't unsee it) and the angle of her hips to the mirror makes you think that if she was planning on pulling on a  pair of crotchless panties then she probably would've found her thigh high stockings, too.
You try and think of what the two of you had even talked about when discussing these little scenes - how many times you'd ended up 'in the mood' during or after such a meeting of the minds, how it'd snowballed from there, a whole list of filthy what-ifs that she'd probably put more thought into than you ever have - but you draw a total blank. It could be any of a number of things.
Until,
"i left you instructions on the kitchen island," reads a text on your phone which you definitely don’t check while you’re driving -
And then it hits you.
"ah."
"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.
-
A quarter past seven at the hotel bar is way too early for any real promiscuous activity, but then again, you're here playing at pretend and half the fun of games like this is in the setup.
Meet me at the bar, your instructions read, introduce yourself, and play it by ear.
There's some couples at the other end, some friends downing shots by the round, people musing over their aperitifs, and a woman sipping alone at the bar - Hyewon, appearing to you from the back first:
The pointed edges of her shoulders narrow out over this tiny cocktail dress that somehow covers less of her than if it weren't there at all, skin tight, accentuating even her softest curves. She has her hair fixed a particular way - teased enough to flip at the ends but still a single sweep down her shoulders, pulled together softly by a ribbon in the back, tied like a fantasy, allowing a wispy strand to fall to her face - glossy and dark and glowing to this rich, deep mahogany where it's cast in the lamplight.
The line of her throat, of her chest. Where her hips meet her waist in a rounding flare. The effort and beauty she's gone to, for you - that she puts in every day just because she knows it gets your attention, can do more than turn a head or two; Hyewon's appearance is almost indifferent of you, only coincidental, but she puts on a damn good act.
(You look a lot more worn in comparison: jacket thrown over dress shirt and khakis, tie loose at the neck. Standard office attire with just a step-outside-regulation. Disheveled.)
A drink, you suppose - approaching the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention to order a single malt.
But if Hyewon's been waiting long, she doesn't complain when you pull into the stool beside her and sit for a long moment.
"Do you mind if I join you?" you say over a pair of politely folded hands - and that's generally where her 'instructions' end.
The look she fixes you with is just this unashamed smoldering, her body language this contradictory kind of lazy - cool, like her night was going exactly the way she planned but she still had places to be.
"It depends," she replies, one slender finger curled around the stem of her martini glass - which historically, is a drink she hates. "Who's asking?"
"Just me," you offer, letting the gesture and your tone leave it up to her. And then slowly, perhaps awkwardly: "ostensibly a complete and utter stranger who knows a gorgeous woman when he sees one - and who could never pass up a chance to see how the rest of her is."
"Smooth."
"I guess it is, considering you didn't immediately run for the exit."
Hyewon nearly snorts.
"Hard not to." She tilts her head back at you, assessing. Her cheeks are rosy pink. "A handsome thing like you doesn't usually buy themself a girl's time with flattery -"
"Buy your time or your drinks?" you tease, and you can tell she wants to roll her eyes - but she keeps them carefully lowered. Eyelashes dipping down like blackened fans.
Hyewon shifts slightly, resting her chin onto the heel of her wrist like she's leaning against an imaginary windowpane and tipping her face a little sideways. It makes you smile. "One gets the other, if you catch my meaning."
Maybe it takes you a little too long to lift your gaze off her lips to find her eyes, or off the sweeping curve of the hemline sitting high across her long legs, but she watches you for just a breath. It's a more telling moment that she pretends she doesn't know you.
"You can look at me if you like," and then without further preamble, she introduces herself with a slight tilt of the head and an expectant expression: "call me Hyewon."
You figure that if you've gotta say one word to get the ball rolling you want to say her name, and as a little revenge for forcing you to think on this scene and think on what to say, what your character would say, how exactly she wanted you to go about 'meeting' her in a hotel bar, how her fucking scenario's been building up in her head for god-knows-how-long (even though, in the scheme of the two of you and your relationship, it’s nowhere close to being the most demanding sex you've had), you reply simply with:
"Pretty."
It's satisfying, how she hesitates - pausing a little longer on your face to gauge exactly what you meant. Studying. But the next beat of your heart - or hers - is effortless, easy.
"I know. That's what my husband calls me."
"Husband?" You keep yourself from raising an eyebrow. "And I don't suppose I'm also... married?"
"Different day, different you."
"Meaning I have a wife or a mistress of my own," and you flick your wrist at the barkeep for a top-up of what's in front of Hyewon. "You're telling me I'm the kind of man who'd only settle for two."
It doesn't sound quite right, though Hyewon picks up on it. Doesn't let on. "Aren't men like you always? Charming to a fault, but always voracious - insatiable, especially with women like me."
"Women like you."
"Married women. Unavailable," she simpers, and in a practiced little motion, draws her hand out to where you can see it properly, this sparkle on her fourth finger that catches the lowlight of the bar. The diamond looks real - not that you'd actually know - and your stomach flexes up mid-somersault thinking about the financial impropriety for what amounts to a gag. A practical joke. Hyewon the comedian.
Still, you go with it and take her hand in yours, admiring. "What a pity." The glint off its faceted surface - Hyewon's watchful as she allows it.
"Isn't it," she agrees.
The more unnerving thing - besides how composed Hyewon can make herself be - is how the narrative quickly becomes a whole hell of a lot clearer with the context of marriage in play. She's mentioned it before: the infidelity thing, the way it leads to the raunchiest, filthiest bits she'll dare to explore. In some ways, her desire for the untouchable makes a lot more sense -
And maybe that's what had been nagging at your mind since she brought up the idea of playing the part: you always end up kissing in that stupid 'caught up' sort of way. With an intensity that's hard to beat. Even though you wouldn't ever cheat on her. Not in a million years. You'd watch her leave before doing anything like that.
But it's thrilling, almost, and even more thrilling that this isn't entirely improvisation: how well the two of you might actually play this off, as two total strangers to this illusory little roleplay that you'd normally say was your very last interest.
"But you know there's something I've come to appreciate about married men," Hyewon continues, her voice in this conspiratorial sort of hushed.
You blink, drawing her out.
"They know how to tie a knot."
There's the flirty wink, an upward flick of the chin that draws your eye to the span of her chest. To her body in that skin-hugging dress and your fingers entangled in hers - the gentle bump and shift of the bodies behind her, moving between the tables - Hyewon a queen of circumstance, playing to the moment as it bends; as her lips part in a pleased smile, red and smooth, almost innocent, and you can't help but imagine tasting her on your tongue, the force that'd take for her to yield when you finally got your hands in her hair.
(What a character, honestly.)
"Tell me something," you say, "why would a married woman, this pretty little thing like you, be all alone in a place like this - without her charming husband."
Hyewon's smile curls at the edges like smoke. "I never said he was charming."
You raise an eyebrow. "Good-looking, then."
"Never said as much either."
“Why are you with someone you find neither attractive nor charming?”
Hyewon makes a face, slightly pitied. “If that Isn’t what I’m asking myself everyday.”
"Hm." You narrow your eyes into something more quizzical than suggestive. It works on her anyway. "That doesn't feel too much like it's in character, Hyewon."
She shrugs, but it's that coy kind of shrug. She thinks you'll let her off easy - you usually do. All considered, she's the type who thrives off the chase and, as of today, so do you.
"But he is cute." Her expression is just this side of sweet, as she takes a dainty sip of her drink. Like the taste doesn’t bother her, like she isn't pretending she doesn't hate it with every fiber of her being. Like this is easy. "And maybe -" she quirks an eyebrow at you, withholding a smirk. "-you're right. Maybe, I was looking for someone cuter to fill the bill. And luck would have it, here he is."
So - apparently - her character doesn’t mind a little light infidelity.
Hyewon takes in the vague sense that the message wasn’t as clear as she might have liked, her forehead scrunching as she tries to convey - in a way that would communicate even to an airhead - some realization to play your part.
"Maybe it's the wrong question,” you start over, taking it from somewhere near the top, “what are you doing here, with me?"
That's when Hyewon graces you with one of the soft, slow kind of smiles: the kind that manages both an air of 'you dimwit' and 'good question'. Her fingertips barely graze yours but it's noticeably electric. Just enough to feel your pulse fluttering.
(You don't care that none of it’s real - Hyewon looks to you through thick eyelashes like a goddess of temptation and sin - and it makes something wicked coil up warm at the pit of your gut. A curious thrill and a recklessness that you have to admit feels a little nice - being the man trying to talk this woman into bed. The challenge and the buildup, the want to work for it. It's new. It's fresh. Lo-and-behold, it's kinda hot.)
When you catch her stare, she fidgets. So slightly, so briefly, your chest is on fire and you're barely into the pages of her plans, of this night ahead.
"Wish fulfillment, let's say," and that is no less true. "See it’s my husband."
"Mhmm."
"He respects me too much to do the things I'm going to ask you to do."
"Like?" you continue to prod.
Hyewon lets out the tiniest shiver of a sigh, like a trickle of cold water down the length of her spine. "Take a good guess."
You finish the rest of Hyewon's martini, slow. Savoring the warmth and bitterness sliding down the back of your throat. The night's young, sure - and if you're supposed to be spending it all wrapped around Hyewon's finger. This means you can take your time.
"Show me your room?" you propose, gesturing to the empty glass.
"I thought you'd never ask."
At your offering, she stands up and throws on her coat - long, double-breasted, chic - but only really just off her shoulders to have the hem hit her legs mid-thigh. One of her many personal quirks. Hyewon knows how to move like there aren't two eyes staring at her wherever she goes: not the awkward side-to-side of a girl who wasn't made to wear heels - a loping gait - nor the assured click, click of the taller kind that totter like it's all they've got going for them.
Something totally different: a little careless and a little haughty and an assurance of the highest confidence.
She winds an arm round yours like they do in movies, this parody of a leading lady - Hyewon not a seductress as much as she is someone who'll look the part just to convince you otherwise. There is a pretty big discrepancy, you find, between her bravado and her smile, her figure and her artistry - you couldn't act if you wanted to; meanwhile, she does whatever she damn well pleases. And somehow that doesn't even begin to cover the things that turn her on.
The two of you make for the stairs, winding up floor after floor until it's perfectly quiet, perfectly out of sight - hidden away from prying eyes and ears.
The silence of an empty hotel stairwell is thick - Hyewon's hand comes off the railing, as she takes to the wall and turns to face you. It's a gentle tug at the tie loose around your neck, barely any give before you're already there, holding her by the hips.
"Might've gotten us lost there," you whisper, as her finger plays at your chest and finds its way round the collar of your shirt. Your top button is already undone by the time you notice she's not fond of it. "The elevators would've gotten us where we're headed faster."
"Don't worry." She hums, leaning in close - like a magnet, like gravity. "You're getting the scenic route."
"Anything to stall the inevitable," you tease, but it isn't a thread she seems interested in developing.
"Something like that."
Hyewon shifts her weight back onto her right foot, her skirt riding up just barely. The dip between her inner thighs and the smooth curve of her leg is open and bare to your sight, her dark stockings like an unspoken challenge: the panties, lacy, loose, no crotch.
And it gets... indecent, the way your lips connect, how you realize half-way into that kiss, she's still smiling. It isn't any one way that does it; maybe it's the clever use of her tongue, or that particular position you've coaxed her up against the stairwell wall that makes it seem like Hyewon can't be any more in danger - it's too much to handle and your mouth goes slack on the reflex of an apology; her hand has a hold on you by the jaw and it won't budge.
"My husband," she murmurs into you, the trace of the words ghosting into the breath between the both of you. "Never lets me."
"What," you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice, your hand heavy on her side - the very real fear that you might tip over a banister because Hyewon's got her heel half-way into the back of your calf and any less bracing would bring you down. Your thoughts are a fog, with her cheek in one hand and your knee already up between her thighs.
"His wife," she almost swallows down, kisses turning chaste because maybe it's just easier to gently peck out her intentions, how she looks to you with dark eyes, heavy-lidded and wanting, a thumb trailing down the plane of your cheek. It'd feel like pity if you weren't thinking exactly the same.
You try to finish it for her:
"She likes it rough."
"No." Her nose traces yours before she connects you again - gentle and slow, and a shudder rolls all down the expanse of her shoulders; you think you have it about right. Until she makes the slightest adjustment and her grip in your hair turns agonizing, perfect and burning on the edge of too tight - too much. You are straining against the wall of a hotel hallway and she's saying, "not rough."
She kisses you. Hard. Until you gasp for the stolen air in her lungs.
"Filthy," she manages against the heat and sting at the side of her cheek.
(Damn.)
Your voice has gone and lodged itself firmly somewhere between her lungs - but there's something that says she knows. That you've got it in you, the brimming potential that might just say everything you ever wanted but couldn't figure the right way to put it.
It's the tone of her voice or the spark in her eyes, but one moment into the next - you're caught in this pull - like gravity's increasing tenfold at her will; her heartbeat's so strong you swear you feel it against your ribs as she's demanding:
"Messy. Dirty. A little uninhibited," and the obvious thrill of that must flare up like lightning under her skin - the way it makes her moan, soft and breathless: "fuck me like my husband doesn't."
She’s not even waiting for the comfort of the room yet, which in hindsight is probably checking more of Hyewon's many boxes - it's the sex in public thing, the fear of discovery thing, the desire to have you ravish her out where anyone can come upon you sort of thing - the thought of which has your jaw go a little slack too. Her leg up is coiled up around your hip, your fingers tangled in her hair and sliding up the length of her thigh, until you're fucking kneading up her ass and drawing out that desperate whine in her.
"Fuck," she exhales into your shoulder - a hand on the metal bannister to brace against those little circles you start to rub inside her, pushing - slowly - one, two, three knuckles deep, testing - before drawing back, and plunging forward again. This ache, slow and purposeful, pressing just enough into her until there's a wet sort of friction that has your hand slick all down your wrist.
It never takes long, with your fingers on her clit, fingers inside her, a palm covering the moans out of her mouth -
She cums just like that.
Whining and broken and bent under you, and with an elbow hard against her ribcage to make the breaths come shallow.
"Stay quiet for me, sweetheart," you find yourself murmuring, as your teeth graze the shell of her ear - the short burst of hair and silky strands across the back of her neck; you're undoing the neat ribbon tied round the length of her hair and letting her waves settle on her shoulder in time for you to swallow down the sound of her sighs, the tension in her lips, and the frantic jolt when your fingers push through the wet, heat of her pussy again, merciless and quick. You have to be careful; she nearly bites your fucking tongue out.
"Can't." Her jaw's tight on it, the slight staccato to her breathing, murmuring and slightly dazed: "if we get caught, someone will see. Someone will notice."
Her next exhale is more shaky. "Anyone could see us like this," with just her toes curling and her stomach tensing on every second beat. Your grip leaves a bruise. "Please-"
"We're not supposed to be doing this at all, are we? If you've got a husband waiting somewhere?"
You hear yourself, and it sounds sorta degenerate, though in all the right ways, you figure, like something straight out of one of Hyewon's romance novels, the dirty, smutty ones that she swears up and down she simply reads for the plot, but the dazed, hazy kind of mood they get her worked up into suggest otherwise.
You trace the rough pad of your thumb over her pussy, this delicate, ghost of a touch. One you'd have to strain to even tell if it was there or not until she whines - eyes screwed shut like she doesn't mean to, just does. The sound of it bouncing around the stairwell.
And then, all this wet: her skirt's ridden all the way up to her stomach, damp and near-transparent with slick, and you can just imagine the puffy pink between her legs - between her stockings in the afterglow of an orgasm, spent and sensitive and sore and wanting for more. Your eyes linger a little too long -
"I shouldn't let you," she manages, half a moan on it - one of her heels comes up the stair you're standing on and the way Hyewon clings onto you for balance says enough, but still, she demands, with all the strength her throat allows: "make it fast. You're lucky I let you see me like this at all -"
And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.
(She'll play coy for a while longer. Which, Hyewon being Hyewon, will look like as much an effort as her sprawl out on the bed for you is.)
"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."
"Four more floors."
-
Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.
"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"
This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.
See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.
It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.
Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.
You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.
"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.
And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -
"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."
“I don’t know that I am.”
Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.
"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."
You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.
But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:
"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"
"Say it again."
"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.
"Pushy."
"Gentle's got no appeal for us."
"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -
You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.
The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:
"Like that. Harder."
"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.
Her throat flinches: this shudder.
She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.
"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."
"Or talk?"
And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -
Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.
"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"
In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."
There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.
So you pull.
And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.
You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.
A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.
"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"
Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."
"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"
"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."
"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"
"My husband loves me."
"Then it seems-"
"He makes me cum with his hands alone."
Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.
"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."
"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"
A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight. 
You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.
You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.
"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."
There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.
(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)
With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.
Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.
You curse under your breath.
Hyewon fucking collapses.
It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.
"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"
Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.
It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"
You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.
Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.
"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"
She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.
"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"
And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:
"More-"
"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.
Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.
"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.
The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.
Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.
"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"
She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.
It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.
Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"
The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.
"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"
"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."
Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.
And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"
You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.
(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)
You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.
She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.
This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.
"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.
Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.
"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.
"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.
A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."
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obsessedwithceleste · 1 month
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Dancing With Our Hands Tied
Mattheo Riddle x Slytherin reader
Prompt 4 of @thatdammchickennugget ‘s hogmarch challenge🫶🏽 and dedicated to this psychic anon request 💕
Summary: I’d kiss you as the lights went out, Swaying as the room burned down, I’d hold you as the water rushes in, If I could dance with you again.
word count: 4k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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You watch silently from across the Slytherin common room as yet another girl places her hand flirtatiously on Mattheo’s chest, batting her lashes with that seductive grin you knew all too well from watching all the other girls do it too.
“Go to the dance with me?” Her lips read as she leaned closer to your friend.
You can’t help but smile as Mattheo just rolls his eyes, moving away from the girl, not giving her more than a shake of his head.
The girl’s mouth hangs open in shock of the rejection. Really she should be flattered you thought dryly to yourself. She’d made it significantly further than others you’d witnessed.
Truth was, you’d had a massive crush on Mattheo since you were kids, and watching as he rejected girl after girl was much more entertaining than you cared to admit.
Growing up, you’d always admired his bold brashness, and willingness to say whatever came to mind. The two of you had always gotten into trouble together, bouncing mischievous ideas back and forth. The summer before coming to Hogwarts, your mother had given you a heart shaped locket, and Mattheo had insisted that a photo of the two of you go inside it.
"In case we don't go to the same house." The boy had reasoned.
But of course, he’d never seen you as anything more than a friend, and unfortunately, the cringey, cliche nature of the situation was not lost on you. Even now, as you mindlessly fingered the carefully disillusioned pendant while Mattheo stalked towards your group with an air of agitation.
“Bloody hell I can’t wait for this fucking Yule ball rubbish to be over and done with,” Mattheo states flatly as he sits down lazily on the sofa next to you.
“Just pick a girl to go with then. They’ll leave you alone if they think you have a date. Why do you think I asked Daph so early on?” Theo replies, not bothering to look up from his book.
Daphne whacks him with her textbook.
You watch as Mattheo tilts his head in consideration before his eyes shift over to you, a sly grin forming on his face.
“Don’t even think about,” you say, holding up your hand as if to block out whatever idiocy the boy was about to spew.
Now it’s Mattheo’s turn to open his mouth in shock.
“Wha- you don’t even know what I was gonna say!”
“You were going to ask me if I’d go to the dance with you,” you reply dryly. “Honestly Matt, I’m not stupid.”
“Well will you?” He asks, giving you his most charming smile.
“I’m already going with Blaise.” You respond.
Looking back, had it been a bit of a rash decision? Yes. But you had made peace with the fact that Mattheo likely wouldn’t ask you to be his date, and Blaise was one of your best friends. You knew you’d have a good time with him, and all your other friends had been pairing up.
“Tell Blaise to go with Astoria,” Mattheo reasons.
“Toria is already going with Enzo.” Daphne intervenes.
“What about Pansy?”
“She and Millicent got accosted by Crabbe and Goyle last I heard,” Theo replies.
“He can go with Draco then! People already mistake them for gay lovers anyway.”
“Matt, you know Draco is trying to muster up the courage to ask Harry. Don’t be dense.” You reply.
“Oh come on! How do you all have this sorted out already? The ball was only announced yesterday!”
“We organized it at dinner,” Daphne responds, as if the answer was obvious.
“You mean while I was in detention?” Mattheo asks incredulously, only to be met with a chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘mhms’.
You look over as your friend slumps into the sofa in defeat, a wave of slight guilt washing over you.
“Lighten up Matt, you’ve already been asked by a handful of girls today, you’ll be able to find someone to go with easy,” you say.
“Not with anyone who matters,” he grumbles, so low that you almost miss it.
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A week had gone by and you were about to lose your mind. You thought that after the initial conversation in the common room, Mattheo would relent and just pick one of his many admirers to take to the ball. You really should’ve known better. You’d known the boy long enough to know that once he had his mind set on something, there was really nothing in the world that could stop him. You just never thought that you would be what he set his mind to.
“Matt, I’ve told you a million times, I’m already going to the ball with Blaise,” you groan, collapsing on your bed as the raven haired boy follows you into your dorm.
“Well lucky for you, I have the perfect plan to steal you away from ole Blaisey boy,” Mattheo says, his signature smirk in place.
You roll your eyes, leaning back on your bed as you wait for him to continue.
“It’s easy. You just have to date me,” Mattheo replies, as if his idea was particularly clever.
You let out a rather unattractive snort as your heart clenches. It felt as though it might pound out of your chest.
“Matt, that has to be the worst idea you’ve ever had. And you’ve had a lot of really bad ideas.”
Though asking the girl that’s fancied him for years to pretend to date him, only for him to snatch it all away again a few weeks later probably had to be one of the cruelest, you thought to yourself.
“Oh c’mon. There’s no way Blaise would be offended if you ditched him if we said we were together. He’s a perfectly reasonable bloke. He’d understand!”
You shake your head once more. There was no way you were pretending to date the boy you had been pining after for this long. It was only going to end in one way. Heart break. And not on his end.
“Bloody hell. What if I can get Luna to go in your place. Will you do it then? We both know he’s been eyeing that loon up for months.”
“Don’t call her a loon Matty.” You tilt your head in consideration however.
If he was willing to actually encourage Blaise’s love life, and be willing to get intermixed within the logistics of it all, he must be desperate. And you had been dying to set the two of them up, you supposed.
But you just couldn’t shake the bad feeling this whole situation gave you. It couldn’t be all that bad though, right? You reasoned. You’d gotten this far without Matt realizing your feelings, a few weeks of bliss surely couldn’t hurt.
“Alright. Fine. I’ll tell Blaise we got together and that I want to go to the ball with you, only if Luna agrees to go with him instead.”
Mattheo immediately brightens at your words, a self satisfied grin spreading across his face.
“Good. Because I already told Blaise that we were together and that I was taking you to the ball,” he says quickly. “Also- considering Blaise is more of a yapper than people give him credit for, the rest of the group definitely already knows.”
Your mouth drops open as you glare at the boy in front of you.
“Matt. What on earth. Did you tell him?” You grit out, praying to Salazar that Blaise hadn’t embarrassed you too much.
Mattheo shrugs. “Just told him that we had been out by the lake on one of our walks and I kissed you. One thing led to another and I asked you out. He seemed to believe it pretty easily actually.”
The boy looked all too calm about making up a whole scenario in which he made out with his best friend for your liking.
You purse your lips, taking a deep sigh. What did you see in this boy?
“Mattheo.”
“Yes love?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Can’t do that love, you wouldn’t kill your boyfriend.”
You continue to glare at the boy, fingers gripping tightly around your wand.
“Easy there, pretty,” Mattheo laughs nervously, slowly edging closer to you with a bashful grin.
“You better have thought this through Riddle. Because I’m telling you right now, that this is a bad idea.”
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It was too easy. You know that much clearly. The two of you, you and Mattheo that is, walk silently along the streets of Hogsmeade, your friends surrounding you, shielding you from the brisk winter air. Mattheo's arm is wrapped securely around you, hand tucked into your jacket pocket, your fingers intertwined. It was so warm. So comfortable. So effortless, as if you had spent forever with his hands in your pockets.
Blaise and Daphne had been the only ones to know of your secret feelings towards your best friend, yet not a single one of the others looked particularly shocked when the both of you showed up in the common room wrapped in each others arms one night.
“Bout bloody time,” you’d heard Theo grunt to Draco from across the fireplace.
Daphne of course had been utterly elated for you, and Blaise had made sure you knew that there were no hard feelings about switching dates for the ball. Especially after he had secured one Miss Luna Lovegood as his date with the surprising help of Mattheo.
A warm squeeze of your hand shakes you from your thoughts as your group comes to stop outside of The Three Broomsticks.
“You sure you don’t want to come down to the shops, y/n?” Daphne asks looking back at you as she forges on with Astoria and Millicent.
“Bloody hell, yes! She’ll be fine with me. You can’t have her to yourself all the time!” Pansy says with exasperation, shooing the other girls away and linking her arm through yours on your free side.
The bell above the door rings lightly as the rest of your group enters the warm tavern, Theo and Enzo racing to secure your usual table.
“Hey Matty!” A voice shouts, stopping your trio in your tracks.
You turn to see another booth filled with familiar looking Hogwarts students and recognize one of the girls you’d watch Mattheo reject just a few days ago.
“Come sit with us,” she continues, attempting to wave him over.
Pansy gives the girl a sneer as you walk past, Mattheo not even sparing a glance in their direction.
“Don’t even know the bloody girl’s name,” he mumbles under his breath, causing you to let out a soft chuckle.
“Ey, what’s the hold up?” Theo shouts as you all hurry over to the table.
“Bloody hell. I thought y/n being my girlfriend would finally get those birds to back off,” Mattheo complains as he takes his seat in the booth.
His arm remains wrapped securely around you the entire time, sending warm tingles through you. It’s all an act, you have to remind yourself, pulling yourself out of your head.
Draco snorts at Mattheo’s grumbling.
“Half the school already thought you two were dating. Didn’t stop em then, so I don’t see why it’d stop them now.” He says matter of factly as the rest of the group nods in agreement.
“You lot are so dramatic. No one thought we were dating,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at your friends.
Their eyes flicker awkwardly back and forth between the lot of them. “Right.” Pansy says finally, bringing an end to the silence.
You glare pointedly at the girl.
“I’m going to the loo. Order me a butter beer Matty?” You say, standing up abruptly.
“I’ll come,” Pansy says quickly, going to rise as well.
“It’s fine Pans. I’m a big girl. Promise not to get attacked by a troll or nothin,” you say with a smile.
Mattheo opens his mouth to protest before closing it again and giving your hand a tight squeeze.
You make your way through the maze of tables, finally making it to the ladies room. Making a beeline to the sink, you take a breath, letting cool water splash against your face.
Salazar, you needed to get a grip. But everything about being with Mattheo felt so real. So natural. Which just meant it would feel all the more real when things ended. You take another moment to gather yourself, dabbing any remaining bits of water from your face. As your hand falls on the door handle to make your way back however, loud voices fill the hall.
“I don’t know what he sees in her,” a voice practically snarls. You can practically feel the malice, dripping from their lips.
“So it’s true then? Mattheo is taking that girl to the ball?” Another voice asks.
“I heard they’re dating.”
“They weren’t already?”
“I wonder if he’s taking her out of pity.”
A chorus of voices all say at once.
You immediately bristle, realizing they were talking about you.
“I hear she was the only one in their group who didn’t have a date and she practically forced him to take her.”
“I thought she was going with Blaise.”
Bloody hell. Where did they get all of this information?
“Whatever. It’s not like it matters either way. There’s no way they last. She’s a mess, and Mattheo has never been able to settle has he? It’s only a matter of time.”
You feel a deep frown form at the harsh words, but before you’re able to react, the bathroom door is pushed open and you’re face to face with the group of girls from before. The girl you had recognized as Mattheo’s reject smirks as she eyes you up and down before simply pushing past you. The rest of the girls follow, leaving you to wander back to your friends.
When you sit down again, Mattheo has a warm drink already waiting, and you let out a small smile as you cozy up next to the boy. No matter how hard you try to distract yourself however, the words of the girl’s echo through your mind.
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Later that evening, you lay comfortably in bed with your head resting gently on Mattheo’s chest, hypnotized by the slow rise and fall. You hadn’t seen your roommates all day, and doubted they would be back if they weren’t there by now.
You lived for nights like these when Mattheo would bow out of whatever mischief Theo and Enzo had cooked up, and instead spend the evening holed up with you cuddling, talking, or getting into your own trouble. Your room had become a safe haven. A sacred oasis of sorts for the both of you to unwind, safe from the outside world.
“You were awfully quiet today at The Broomsticks.” Mattheo says, breaking the silence.
You only hum in response.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“How are we going to break up?” You ask, rather abruptly, as you look up at your best friend.
Mattheo looks surprised at the question.
“I don’t know. Didn’t really think I’d get this far in my scheming to be quite honest. I suppose I figured we’d just say that we figured we’d be better off as friends, or something of the sort. You can blame the split on me though if you’d like.” He replies.
You move your head to look down once more, picking at the blankets.
“No, no. The friends thing is fine. When should we do it?”
“Trying to get rid of me already, love?” Mattheo asks with a laugh.
“I just want to know what to expect.” You say quietly, causing Mattheo to grow quiet as well.
“Alright. Then how about a few days after the ball? We say that the dance made us realize we were better off as friends, and everything goes back to the way it was.” He says finally.
You feel your heart crack at his words.
“Yeah. Exactly like how it was.” You repeat.
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Smoothing your dress out one final time, you turn around to hear Daphne gasp.
“Oh that’s stunning,” she gushes, her own deep blue gown cascading elegantly around her in waves of silk.
You’d spent the last several hours or so in her and Pansy’s shared dorm getting ready for the ball with the other girls, though where Pansy had wandered off to you had no idea.
All you knew, was that you were bloody nervous. You didn’t think you would be. It was just like any other night you reasoned. You and Mattheo were with each other constantly. What difference did a pretty dress make?
“I think the boys are ready for us whenever we are. Toria, come get these shoes,” Daphne shouts.
Astoria really did look like a princess you think to yourself, her soft yellow gown billowing gently with every movement.
“Ready to go down?” She asks, seeming to float over.
“As I’ll ever be,” you respond with a nervous smile.
Giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Astoria slips on her shoes before making her way down to the common room, you and Daphne following close behind.
The boys are already congregated by the fireplace; their loud chattering could be heard across the room, but as soon as Theo’s eyes meet Daphne’s he freezes and the rest of the boys quiet down, noticing the shift.
Your eyes lock onto Mattheo’s and you slowly make your way over, nervously picking at your skirt with trembling fingers.
“Beautiful as always, y/n,” he says, smiling down at you when you finally reach him. Gently, he raises your hand to his lips, barely grazing over your shaking fingertips before looking back at you with his signature smirk.
“Where’s Draco?” You ask, not quite able to stomachs the intensity of his gaze.
“Had to be there early. Something about the champions and their dates having the first dance or something,” he replies easily, his hand finding its ever familiar place on your waist.
“Oh we are not missing that,” you say, your nerves quickly being replaced with excitement.
Mattheo grins back. “I knew we’d be on the same page,” he responds, tugging you towards the doors.
Together, the both of you rush to the main hall just in time to see Harry and Draco getting herded into a lineup of the champions to be paraded into the Great Hall.
“I certainly hope he took Snape’s dance lessons to heart,” you giggle.
It doesn’t take much longer for the rest of your group to join the both of you and soon enough you find yourselves following the flood of students into the newly decorated Great Hall.
It really was spectacular. The house elves clearly had spared no expense with thick, green trees covered in tinsel and ornaments lining the walls. Floating candles cast a warm glow about the room and the floor had the appearance of being covered in freshly fallen snow.
You watch, hiding a laugh, as Draco and Harry move awkwardly around the dance floor, almost colliding with Cedric and Cho on more than one occasion. Salazar help them.
Slowly, other couples begin to join the champions on the dance floor, swirling together in a sea of shimmering color.
“May I have this dance m’lady?” Mattheo asks with a lopsided grin.
Before you even have the chance to respond however, Mattheo is pulling you onto the dance floor, a look of pure delight across his face. There were very few times you remembered him looking this happy, and it melted your heart.
As the night progressed, Mattheo refused to leave your side, his hand rarely leaving your waist. Really, you hardly left the dance floor either. The few times you were able to escape with Daphne or Pansy to the punch bowl, Mattheo tracked you down shortly after, pulling you right back into his arms.
To say that you were in heaven was an understatement. You had spent hours daydreaming about what it might be like to have Mattheo’s hard-won affection to yourself. And now that you had it, you were practically floating. Which just made it all the more heart wrenching as you anticipated the inevitable. It was as if every move you made, every dance the two of you shared, was done with your hands tied.
People really weren’t going to believe your break up if he continued on like this, you’d thought at some point. But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to tell him to back off, especially as it grew later. Your time with him was fleeting after all.
“Bloody hell, Matt. Give the girl some breathing room,” Pansy exclaims after Mattheo had sought you out for the third time.
Mattheo just gives her a guilty grin before spinning you out onto the dance floor once more.
“I didn’t realize you liked dancing this much Matty,” you tease as the two of you away slowly on the floor.
“Oh I don’t. Just making sure I take full advantage of the night,” he replies, looking intently down at you.
You cock you head to the side.
“With you as my girl, I mean,” he adds. And before you’re able to put together another cohesive thought, his lips are on yours. In the middle of the dance floor.
Immediately it feels as though the lights had gone out, leaving the two of you alone in the room as you let your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the softness of Mattheo’s lips on yours. They move slowly at first. Carefully. Before quickly growing hungrier, more determined.
You barely register Mattheo’s fingers digging into you as he pulls you closer, and find yourself lost in the gentle sway as everything around you burns to the ground, leaving behind a fire growing steadily in your chest.
And just like that, you’re back in Mattheo’s arms as the water comes rushing in, jerking you back to reality. You stand frozen staring up at Mattheo as couples continue to move around you.
Had that really just happened?
“Um- fresh air. I think.” You stutter out, all but dragging the boy from the dance floor, praying no one had seen or noticed.
Mattheo wordlessly allows you to lead him out to the courtyard entrance before you all but collapse on one of the stone benches, still in shock.
“Please don’t avada me! I didn’t think that through entirely.”
“I don’t want to break up.” You say in unison.
“What was that?” Mattheo asks in surprise.
“No- hold on. Why in Salazar’s green bed sheets would I want to avada you?” You ask incredulously.
“More importantly, you don’t want to fake breakup?” Mattheo asks with a grin.
“Of course I don’t want to break up! I’ve fancied you for years!” You blurt out, slapping a hand over your mouth as soon as the words escape.
Mattheo looks at you with shock.
“No. I’ve fancied you for years. Why else do you think I refused to take anyone else to the ball?”
“Because you’re a stubborn arse,” you retort, barely processing the boy’s words.
He liked you?
The two of you stare at each other for another moment, still not fully believing the other as your minds race to put the pieces together.
It’s Mattheo who acts first, surging to connect your lips once more in a heated frenzy. It’s addicting really, the feeling of his soft lips against yours. The pull as he brings your bodies closer together. The warmth you can feel radiating off of him.
When you finally pull away this time, Mattheo’s eyes are shining down at you with that familiar intense gaze.
“We’re a pair of oblivious idiots, aren’t we?” You mumble, leaning into the boy.
“Well, you are. I haven’t exactly been subtle.” Mattheo replies with a snort, hugging you to his chest.
“Don’t be a twat. You’ve had girls fawning over you for years. What was I supposed to make of that?”
“I never looked payed them any mind, love. Think of it this way. I’ll just have years to make up for tonight,” he says with a cheeky smile.
You feel a familiar heat begin to rise in you once more as Mattheo takes hold of your arm, leading the way back to the dungeons.
“Oh I’ll hold you to that,” you reply, a mischievous smile making its way to your face.
“Wouldn’t expect anything less of you, love.”
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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Nice how about to give you one of my old DC DP crossover prompts
Danny is a big fanfic writer for Batman, most of the time doing Tim joins the bat family early and Alternate attack on Titan's Tower. After his accident he decides to write a Jason Todd is a halfa straight out of the grave fic. Just to get his emotions out there and to vent and it gets incredibly popular.
As Time evolves the fic itself evolves from a vent fic to a under the table way to reanalyze his ghost fights and do better by transplanting his ghosts into the fic for Jason to fight. This happens generally okay until Penelope Spectra of unlike the other ghosts she was known by the rest of the world and was actually tracked by Reddit. Making the fans realize hey this is actual going on maybe not by Jason Todd but someone is using this to reanalyze their fights under the veneer of being fiction.
Danny starts to get famous for his fanfictions when he introduces the idea of halfas for the second Robin. He's not sure what happened to the second Robbin, but there are rumors he didn't die; he just retired, and the fans all accept that as the truth.
At first, Danny writes the second Robin struggling with his double life, as alive and dead, forced to hide his existence from Batman as a secret helper at night. He uses the second Robin to freely speak about his struggles with his powers in the early days, using fiction to cover his venting.
He even gave Robin a secret identity- with a disclosure that it was all made up and he did not know anything about the Bats because fans can be crazy- with the name Noir.
He made Noir a loser in school- consistently bullied, his grades were low without Batman's help, and he even had Noir live on the streets for a while before getting flung into the Ghost Zone.
Danny didn't realize it, but his writing made Noir a loveable character to his fans, who all loved "how flawed but kind-hearted" Noir, the halfa Robin. One of Danny's best commenters always claimed that Danny captured the second Robin's character.
He quickly develops Noir into someone who grows comfortable in his role after defeating the old Ghost King and getting discovered by Batman. He made the series with Noir, focusing more on the threats of the other ghosts that came to challenge the Ghost King.
Each ghost was based on his own rouges- all fighting the same way but with different names. Danny switched his main focus from Noir being confused by his powers to Noir getting stronger and stronger through all his fights.
Instead of venting on what life had done to him, Danny used his fanfiction to analyze his fights. He often wrote about what he could have done better, only after writing the actual scene and using that in a fight later on.
He even threw in there some questions that Noir started having about boys- which in high sight he should have known Jazz would have quickly picked up on because she took him to Pride "just to experience new things, Danny!"
He confirmed Noir was bi two updates later and sat back with a smirk when all the comments started rolling in.
Noir's Double Life was his pride and joy. He thought people had to search for his fic, and no one besides his sister would ever read it. Then he made the mistake of writing in a new ghost- Penny Spectra- using her exact powers, thinking no one would recognize her.
What he forgot was that back before Danny kicked her ass into the ghost zone, was that she was a well-known school counselor. A miracle worker, they called her.
Because she always found the teenagers about to fall apart and "saved" them. She had made her way clear across the country, bringing to light issues parents and guardians had no idea their children were going through and getting them the help they needed.
Mr. Lancer had been proud of getting her to come to the school for good reason.
Most adults also didn't know that teenagers talk to each other or, like Danny, post online to vent. Her past victims- for they were victims as some had not been able to pull themselves from the darkness she plunged them into- had started a riddle trend about her.
People began to piece together that whenever she went young people became more and more depressed. They had no proof of course, so she became an urban legend, a demon that appeared as a woman in schools.
Like when a celebrity is turned into a meme for being a secret serial killer, no one takes it seriously, but they think about it in the back of their minds.
Danny just wrote about her with a far too honest retelling of what she had done and how he had found out she was a ghost. He hadn't realized that one of his readers would be one of the original responders for the old Reddit thread about the fact he was a past victim.
That same reader would later link his work for the thread- especially the chapter where she appeared- and everyone would agree that the real Penelope Spectra was a ghost.
And that would be read by Tim Drake, a young member of Riddit who always took mysteries to heart and knew what was real and what wasn't.
This sane Tim Drake would later present Jason to the fanfiction in an effort to tease him about someone adoring him so much they wrote a fic about it and Jason would surprise him with claiming to have already been following the story. \
Their bickering would grab the attention of Bruce, Zatanna, and Constantine, who were in the room next door talking about protection against the dead.
John will be alarmed to see how accurate the fanfiction writer's description of ghosts and King Phantom is, then even more alarmed to find that the writer knows about halfas.
Two days after he posted the newest chapter, Danny is hunted down by Batman to find the human with an insane amount of knowledge about the Infinite Realms and his second son's condition.
Danny would be busy trying to decide if he should give in to the idea of giving Noir a ship and who it should be with while his friendlier ghosts beta-read his work.
"Honestly, I'm a little flatter about how hot you made me sound. Noir definitely has a crush on James the ghost biker." Johnny says flouting to read over Danny's shoulder.
Kitty nods eagerly from where she is lounging on the couch. "I agree, James and Noir are meant to be Danny!"
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gojos-thot-patrol · 9 months
Note
Geto/gojo/reader “I can’t believe there’s only one bed” and HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY
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THANK YOOUUU!! So, this one really sang to me, I went ahead and combined the two, mostly because they are very similar. Thank you both for the prompt!!
Now Presenting...
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Starring: A flirty Satoru Gojo, and a tired Suguru Geto
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Your body protested every step you took as you walked into the hotel, screaming at you to lay down and accept the sweet embrace of death. Okay, maybe death was a little extreme, but you could definitely have gone for a light coma in that moment. A yawn you had been suppressing came forward, and you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes.
“Awe, well aren’t you cute when you’re sleepy.” Gojo teased with a smile, earning him a glare from you. 
“Shut up Satoru.” This entire trip he kept making note of how cute you were, and how you needed to be protected, and at this point, he was on the brink of losing vocal cord privileges.
“Flirt later you two, let’s just get checked in.” Suguru muttered as he ushered the two of you to the front desk. He tried to summon a friendly smile for the clerk, but it didn’t touch his tired eyes. “Hi! Uh, we should have two reservations under Masamichi Yaga.” He said, really hoping they didn’t ask for an id. He told his teacher that he should probably put the rooms under one of the three people going on the mission, but the man was more muscle than brain.
The young worker started typing on the computer, before confusion fell over her features. “Um, I found the reservations, but it says it’s only for one room?” She asked. You were a bit taken back by that, and you could tell from the looks on their faces the boys were too. You thought for sure you’d at least get your own room. But, then again, if getting a room with 3 beds was cheaper than getting 2 separate rooms, it did make sense for Yaga to take that route, the penny pinching bastard. 
“Uh, yea that should be fine, that’s us.” Suguru shrugged, too tired to really argue. Much to your relief (and concern) the woman nodded and happily gave over the room key, not bothering to ask for an ID. What a stand up place. The three of you dragged your tired worn bodies over to the elevator. Well, two of you did. Satoru felt fine, because of course he did. And because he had no problem filling the elevator with whatever came to his head. You shared a look with Suguru.
How do we shut him up? Your eyes asked.
Pillow over his face as he sleeps Sugurus eyes offered.
No, I want him to shut up now. 
Oh, that’s not gonna happen. For now, we just have to endure him.
You sighed, knowing he was right and hating that fact at the same time. Thankfully, the elevator door opened, and the room wasn’t far from it. Geto unlocked the door, and you and Gojo practically fell over him to get into it. You quickly went to grab your toothbrush, and Gojo went to fiddle with the tv. It was Suguru who noticed it first.
“Uh, guys? I don’t see another bed.” He said. You and Gojo stopped cold in your tracks, heads whipping to the center of the room and- yep. That was one bed, and only one bed. Not even so much as a pull out couch in sight. 
“OH ho ho!!” Satoru laughed, launching himself onto the bed and folding himself into what you think was meant to be a sexy pose. “I’ve read fan fiction before, I know what happens here!” He cackled, “Be gentle with me, I’m a virgin” He swooned, acting like a helpless flower. 
“I call sleeping in the bathtub.” Suguru said, checking out of this battle before it became a war.
“No, Don’t!” Gojo whined, reaching out to him, “The bathtub is cold and hard, I'm warm and soft. Unless you want me to be hard.” He winked. 
“I can’t believe there’s only one fucking bed, who sets this shit up?!” You snapped, aggressively waving your hands at the bed.
“God.” Gojo responded.
“Bad fan fiction writers.” Geto retorted, apparently salty about his characterization in my past fics. 
“Satoru get out of the bed.” You demanded, shaking your head. You did not just get out of a fight with ten, count em, ten first grade curses to sleep on the floor.
“How about you get in the bed?” He purred.
“I will, as soon as you get out of it.” you scoffed, fighting back a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
“Why not get in it with me?” He grinned at you, opening his arms wide as an invitation. 
“I’d rather sleep in the bathtub.” You replied.
“Not an option, I already called it!” Suguru reminded you.
“Why don’t you sleep with him?” You accused more than asked, “He’s your man!”
“He is most definitely not my man!” Geto rebuffed the statement, shaking his head.
“He’s actually my man, we just haven’t taken our relationship to the next level yet.” Satoru purred with a cheeky wink to Geto to really seal the deal. Geto rolled his eyes.
“I’m going to bed, goodnight.” He said, going to grab a pillow from the bed, only for Satoru to grab his arm.
“Come on guys, don’t be silly! This bed is big enough for all of us!” He argued, “We all trust each other, right?!” Gojo paused long enough to look at both you and Geto, but not long enough for an answer. He already knew it. “We know no ones going to try any funny business, we trust each other with our lives there's no reason for any of us to be uncomfortable tonight!” you and Suguru shared more glances. Gojo may be annoying, but when he was right he was right. The only thing really keeping the three of you from sharing was standard social conventions. 
“Fine, but if any of you touch me I’m throwing you off the balcony.” You warned. Geto sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the bed.
“I just don’t get why we weren’t warned about this.”
“I mean, it kind of explains the weird look she gave us.” You noted, sitting on the other side of Gojo.
“Yay, sleepover!” Gojo cheered, grabbing onto Suguru because he was the one that didn’t threaten him, “Fair warning, I’m a cuddler.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis. 
“I knew I should have just slept in the tub.” Geto sighed.
🛏️🛏️🛏️
In the morning, you were a tangled mess of limbs and drool with your two best friends. Any warning against cuddling being tossed to the wind in exchange for the comfort human warmth brings. You hated to admit it, but it was the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. Gojo woke up not long after you, smiling softly, slowly coming back to life.
“Good morning,” He said. You shook your head and covered his face with a pillow.
“It was before you started talking.” You muttered.“It’s 6 am, go back to bed.” Suguru begged, not happy to have been woken up.
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appocalipse · 3 months
Note
Kiss prompt #9 with Eddie? Por favor?
anything for you. ♥
#9: "I think I deserve a kiss."
Eddie is charming your mother. You can tell even from this distance, sitting on the small step in front of your porch while you watch them.
He's been squatting with a some sort of screwdriver near that lawnmower for about 10 minutes, poking it, tightening screws, taking out parts of it you can't even name.
His hands are dirty with what you suppose it's oil, but he doesn't seem to care. He's so focused that he brings the back of his hand to his face and leaves a stain on his cheek without even realizing it.
You smile.
He looks up from time to time, to sneak a glance your way or when your mother talks to him, and then the two of them laugh amicably. After a few more moments, Eddie straightens up the lawnmower and turns it on, demonstrating that, as if by magic, it now works. Your mom thanks Eddie politely, then says something that makes him, you realize, look embarrassed as he stands up, wiping his hands on a grey cloth.
Embarrassed, Eddie? It's an unusual occurrence, to say the least.
It doesn't last long.
She says something else to him, insists. Eddie vehemently denies with small smile. You wonder if she's offering him money.
Eddie, very helpful, turns the mower off and puts it back in the garage.
Your mom touches your shoulder affectionately when she passes you on her way back inside the house, offering a smile that you're not sure you understand. Maybe it's best to not even try to understand.
Eddie comes right behind her, looking very pleased with himself.
The step is too small for two people, but he sits down next to you anyway, his knee lightly bumping yours. "I think I just won your mother over," he announces, and it's probably true; that lawnmower had been abandoned in your garage for the past few months, all but useless. He'll sure be in your mother's good graces for a long time.
"And why would you need to win her over?"
He bumps your shoulder with his. "Oh, you know, for when we decide to get married."
Eddie has no filter. You shouldn't even get flustered by this kind of comment at this point.
You laugh without looking at him, although you sound a little more nervous than you'd like. "So fixing a lawnmower is worth my hand in marriage?" you ask in mock seriousness.
"No, but it's a start. Don't you think I deserve, say…" he puts a strand of hair behind your ear, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing your temple. "…a kiss? I think I deserve a kiss. Sounds fair enough, doesn't it?"
Now you have no choice but to look at him. This space really is too small for two people, and the proximity between is slowly melting away what little common sense you have left.
"You can ask her," you chuckle, pointing to the front door despite knowing that, of course, Eddie wasn't talking about your mother, "but I think my dad won't like the idea, you know."
Eddie grins when you look away. He can read you like a book.
"Don't be mean, sweetheart."
"You're the one being mean."
He leans closer, and you can feel his breath on your cheek, the tip of his nose almost touching the side of your face, hoping you turn to look at him too. "Me? I'm just trying to make things clear." He pauses, and you can practically hear him thinking. "Maybe I should try a different approach."
You tilt your head, curious. "Like what?"
"Like..." Eddie hesitates for a moment, gathering his courage, "…you could go out with me."
You blink.
"Don't look so surprised," he says quickly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I can do dates. Fancy dinner, movies, the whole shebang. Just give me a chance."
You can't help but laugh, turning your head to look into his eyes. It's true, at first glance, he's not exactly the most romantic person you know, with his tattoos, his love for heavy metal and his old van that always smells like cheap cologne, cigarettes and leather. But none of that matters, because you can't deny that there's something there between the two of you, something that you've been forcing yourself to ignore for far too long.
The oil stain is still right there, on his cheek. Without thinking too much, you reach up and rub it off slowly with the pad of your thumb. "I don't need fancy," you murmur, because it's true. You don't care about the glitz and the glamor, not when it comes to Eddie.
His breath hitches when you touch him, like he's not used to anyone being this gentle with him, like he's forgotten what it feels like.
You can feel the warmth of his skin through your fingers, the rough stubble of his beard prickling your palm. You wonder if he knows how soft you've become around him, how easily you let him affect you.
"Really?" he whispers, eyes wide and unblinking, as if he's afraid he's imagining this.
You nod, still rubbing his cheek even though the stain is already long gone. You can feel him relaxing into the touch, leaning into you just a little more. It's like he's been waiting for this, for someone to finally see past the tough exterior he shows the world and find the tender, vulnerable boy underneath.
Eddie grins, leaning closer, his voice lowering to a husky murmur. "I promise to be on my best behavior."
[join my 3k followers celebration! ♥]
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cheeseceli · 6 days
Text
Princess treatment
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Pairing: Song Mingi × fem!reader
Genre: fluff, headcanons, a bit of angst here and there
Prompt: "she's a lady, and I'm just a boy"
Warnings: mingi is a bit insecure for a bit, brief mentions of eating, not proofread
A/n: I think this is good but then again I haven't properly slept in four days so who knows | join the 1k event!
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‌Mingi who've always loved you way more than anyone could comprehend
‌The way he was actually devoted to you was incredible
‌You were in his mind 24/7, he always found ways to go back to you no matter what
‌However, he never saw himself as worthy of your attention
‌Or your love
‌He said it a few times, he believed you were royalty and deserved to be treated as one
‌And at the same time he saw himself as just a boy
‌He didn't know how he could possibly love you right
‌But one thing was right, the man was NOT giving up on you
‌Did you deserve the whole world? He'd give it to you somehow
‌Did you deserve an angel disguised as a man? He was about to become one
‌So that's how it all started
‌Your friends would often say you received the "princess treatment" before even having a boyfriend, and that couldn't be more true
‌Mingi would always make sure you ate and rested well. If you didn't, he would be quick to cook (or preferably buy some food) for you or convince you to rest a bit
‌He would constantly buy you things. Be it big gifts for your birthday, silly things he saw on tour that reminded of you or things he saw you saved in your wishlist
‌He would always make sure to see you even on the busiest of weeks
‌Ateez is about to go perform on Coachella but of course he is right on backstage, face calling your number so he could see you before you went to sleep
‌God, if you want him to carry you in his arms for the rest of his life so you can rest, he will
‌And he's always so proud of it, proud of you
‌It doesn't matter if his friends constantly make fun of him for being so lovesick, he couldn't care less
‌He's always like "yeah only the best for yn! :D"
‌And he will NOT hesitate on letting other people know about you
‌Always talking about you, everyone who talked with him at least once already heard your name somehow
‌He's also very surprised whenever someone else tries to flirt with him because like??
‌He thought it was obvious that he was your man (even if you aren't around and you two are not dating, it should be obvious!)
‌So he always rejects someone's initiative because he would rather wait for you
‌But even after all of that, he's still a bit insecure
‌Always wondering if he's doing enough, if he's loving you correctly
‌But then he makes you smile and he thinks you're both will be alright
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Masterlist | you'll probably like: boyfriend San
Thank you for reading 🤍
Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans
Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3
Dividers by @enchanthings
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jae-bummer · 8 months
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A Little Air
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Request: Hi! I just discovered your account and I wanted to tell you that I LOVE the way you write,I´m kinda embarrassed to ask for this tho- I wanted to ask you if you could do prompt 8 with Bangchan,like someone introduces him to YN and uses thoses lines and then she falls in love or something like that? idk if I explained well,but I would really appreciate if you did this! ♡
Prompt:
8) "He has tired dad energy." "He doesn't have kids." "Still a DILF."
Pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x Reader
Genre: Fluff
.
Parties weren't really your thing.
And that's okay! Parties didn't need to be your thing. You much preferred things that were your thing. Coffee dates, reading books, going out to check the mail to say you saw sunlight that day. All of these were excellent things, and they were yours.
Your best friend, Bee, on the other hand, had very different things, such as parties.
And that's why you had been dragged to this one.
She tried to frame it as an "intimate get together," but upon arriving, you hadn't realized that nearly 40-50 people sharing a space was considered "intimate."
Glaring up at her, you tried to imagine small daggers flying from your pupils and into the side of her cheek. You didn't want to actually harm her, as they were very tiny, inconsequential daggers, but you wanted to have them annoy her, just like you were annoyed.
"You okay?" she hummed, her eyes constantly scanning the room around her. "You look like you have something in your eye."
You did. It was called revenge. "Why am I heeeere?"
"Because you're my best friend and I enjoy your company," she nodded, finally deigning to look your way.
Your expression remained deadpan as she burst into laughter. "What?"
"This is cruel and unusual punishment," you pouted, attempting to cross your arms with your drink still in your hand.
"Oh, come oooon!" she gasped. "It's not so bad! We're in the corner of the room, away from everyone, people watching. You love people watching!"
The bitch had you there.
"Hey, you two!" a familiar voice tugged at your attention. Looking over, a mutual friend was shuffling over.
"Hey, Eunji," you and Bee responded, one of you obviously much more enthusiastic than the other.
"What are you guys doing tucked away over here?" she asked, settling in at your opposite side.
"Reading the room," Bee grinned. "You know a lot of these people better than we do, so I have to ask...who is that?"
"Wasting no time on pleasantries," Eunji laughed. "Getting right into the important stuff, I see."
Motioning with her eyes, you followed Bee's line of sight until you too were looking at her subject of interest. It was not surprising in the least that this guy had snagged her attention. He was occupying one end of a velvet couch, sleepily following the conversation of the two men standing in front of him. Man-spread in an oddly desirable way, he held a drink by the edge of the rim in between his knees, his pose completely relaxed. Dressed from head to toe in black, you were surprised to admit that he made eye bags work. You had never seen someone look so tired and simultaneously hot at the same time.
"His name is Bang Chan," Eunji continued.
"He has tired dad energy," you murmured to no one in particular.
"He doesn't have kids," Eunji snorted, joining you in your ogling.
"Don't care," Bee said, shaking her head. "Still a DILF."
"Oh god," you gasped, immediately turning your attention elsewhere. You had been spotted. He was now looking at the three of you looking at him.
Bee continued to stare, a small smile on her lips. "I think you should talk to him, Y/N."
"I'm sorry, I should what?" you gasped, turning sharply to face your friend.
"Why not?" she asked, tilting her head. "He is very much your type."
"He is very much everyone's type!" you snapped. "Have you seen him?"
"I'm about to see him even better," she grinned. "He's coming this way."
Fuck.
Sure as shit, as soon as you turned your head back in his direction, you saw that he had stood and said his goodbyes to the men he had previously been talking to.
It may have been your imagination, but time seemed to slow as he strolled toward you. The sound of birds chirping and a few "sha la la's" could be heard playing in the distance.
"Excuse me," he said, much more cheerfully than you had anticipated. "I thought I'd come over and introduce myself. My name is Chris."
"Hi, Chris," the three of you chimed, clearly all taken aback.
This caused him to breath in a laugh, exposing you to his devastating smile. A spark danced in his eyes as he looked to each of your friends before settling his attention on you.
"We were just going to grab another drink," Bee interrupted, grabbing hold of Eunji's wrist. "You two want anything?"
"You haven't finished your first drink," you said in an attempt to get your friends to stay. You knew what they were doing, and you didn't appreciate it one bit.
"I want something different," Bee snapped back before shooting an awkward smile at Chan.
Before you could even blink, your friends disappeared into the throng of partygoers. Slowly turning back toward your newest acquaintance, you tried to come up with something thoughtful to say.
"How'd you end up here?" you blurted out instead.
Chan smiled easily again, watching you as if you were entertaining him. "This is my friend's apartment. What about you?"
"I was dragged here by the one who suddenly felt parched," you grumbled.
"Dragged?" he asked, lifting his brows.
"I'm not great at parties," you admitted, looking away from him in embarrassment. "I'm not great at...conversing or the whole...people thing."
"I think you're doing just fine," he cooed, his tone somehow comforting AND seductive. "But I totally understand. It can get to be really overwhelming."
You'd been talking for about twelve seconds, and he got it. Why didn't your friends get it?
"Do you want to get some air?" he asked, seeming to notice how stiff you were. "I have special balcony privileges."
"I'm talking with a VIP then?" you smirked.
"The V-est of the IPs," he grinned. Remaining silent, you realized he was waiting for your answer, not just assuming you wanted to go with him.
Well, that was refreshing. "I wouldn't mind stepping outside for a bit."
"Great," he nodded. Turning away from you, he began walking toward the opposite side of the apartment, parting the sea of people effortlessly. Almost forgetting to follow behind, you were shocked back into reality when he looked over his shoulder and intertwined your fingers in his.
Trying to remind yourself to remain calm, your heart skipped a beat, nonetheless.
You wouldn't normally go anywhere with a strange man you had met at a party, but there was just something about Chan that put you at ease. It was hard to explain, but his whole vibe was soft and comfortable. Like a human version of a hug.
Plus, there were more than enough people here to act as witnesses if he happened to push you off of the balcony.
Guiding you down a hallway and through a bedroom, Chan opened up a set of clear glass doors before stepping outside. As soon as the cold night air hit your face, you felt your body begin to relax.
"It's so quiet out here," you murmured, dropping Chan's hand and moving to stand at his side. You instantly regretted breaking the contact but were much too awkward to act normally if you maintained it.
"It's nice, isn't it?" he hummed, resting his forearms against the railing. "Hyunjin has a lot of these parties. This balcony has become an excellent hide out for when things get to be too much."
"Sounds like you're quite the party animal," you joked, pushing playfully at his shoulder with yours.
"Hardly!" he grinned. "I have a lot of friends, so I know I have some social skills, but I prefer to not be in a party setting. Don't get me wrong, it's fine sometimes, but I'd much rather hang out with people I'm already close with than be forced to meet new people."
Ouch, so much for being a human hug.
Instantly realizing his mistake, Chan jerked his head up and spun toward you. "No, no, no, no," he repeated quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you're lovely. I mean...I should probably just stop talking, shouldn't I?"
Letting out a huffed laugh, it was your turn to lean on the balcony and stare into the city below. "It wasn't personal."
"It really wasn't," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Man, really mucked up that one, didn't I?"
"It did not win you any gold stars."
Throwing himself beside you again, he tilted his face to gaze at you. "Forgive me?"
"Already forgiven," you hummed. Chancing a look his way, you offered a small smile. "It's easy when I hardly know you."
"Very valid point," he nodded. Letting the air settle into silence, it was a few minutes before he finally spoke again. "Would you let me know you?"
"Sorry?" you asked, not sure if you heard him clearly. "Weren't you just saying you didn't like meeting new people?"
"That may be a slight twist on what I said," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "But that was before."
"And now?"
"And now I'm on the balcony with someone who is clearly out of my league and I'm floundering for any type of brownie points," he smiled shyly.
"Out of," you stammered. "Out of your league?"
He started chuckling again. "You're doing a great job at repeating things I've said."
Shaking your head, you tried to work out his meaning. "Like you're doing charity work?"
"Whoa," he breathed, furrowing his brows. "No, like you're likely too good for me."
"I think..." you paused, the information slowly seeping into your understanding. Did he really think that? "Someone hit you on the head very hard and you aren't thinking straight."
This caused Chan to choke out a surprised laugh. "Come oooon. You know who is the attractive one on this balcony."
"Pfft," you snorted. "Sure, Chris."
A shiver rippled across your shoulders, causing you to wrap your arms around yourself. What had once been an energizing chill had turned much cooler as the night stretched on.
Noticing this, Chan cocked a brow before he began biting his lip. Your eyes immediately zeroed in on the motion, trying to remember to breathe through something so simply sexy.
"Do you mind if I-" he began, motioning with his arms.
You weren't exactly sure what he was getting at, but at this point, he could likely do whatever he wanted with you, and you'd still thank him for the opportunity. Giving a weak nod, you were surprised when he pivoted you to face the city again and wrapped his arms around you. Bracing his hands on the balcony railing, he sandwiched you in between the metal and the front of his torso.
Sure, you were immediately warmed by his close proximity, but you were also that much closer to passing out. Being in this range, he was even more intoxicating than he had been before.
"Better?" he cooed; his breath heavy in your ear.
"Much," you squeaked, trying to remain calm.
Resting his chin on your shoulder, he let out a light sigh. "You never answered me."
Suddenly every question he had asked tonight flew from your brain. "What did you ask?"
"Would you let me know you?"
You thought you were going to swallow your tongue. "I'd like you to."
"Good," he cooed. "I look forward to it then."
Man, you'd have to send Bee an edible arrangement after this. Who knew you'd like parties after all?
506 notes · View notes
ihavethedreamies · 26 days
Text
Cherry | Haechan
Lee Donghyuck (Haechan - NCT Dream)
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~2.2k
Pairing: Haechan x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Couch Sex, Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)
Summary: It all started with a cherry stem…
Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, but as you can see by the word count, that didn't happen.
This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.
🍉 Mark 🍉
🍇 Renjun 🍇
🍌 Jeno 🍌
🍑 Jaemin 🍑
🍓 Chenle 🍓
🍍 Jisung 🍍
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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"Do cherries come from the same trees as the flowers?" Your boyfriend was holding one of the red fruits by the stem. It spun back and forth in the air with prompting from his finger tips, another one being chewed in his mouth. You could hear the pit clacking against his teeth as he sucked it clean.
"I don't think so…" You wondered what prompted the question, only briefly glancing up from your phone at him. You were sitting at your kitchen table to eat. You had been looking over the different delivery menus, spread across the surface and you were scrolling through your phone to see who was open. Not only was it past normal meal hours, which was normally not too much of an issue, it was some kind of political holiday that only old people cared about. The only problem was that most of the people that would make the food you wanted were said old people. It was also more of something for families, not young couples who did a lot of the baby-making practice but with not desired end product.
"Okay, this place is only open for fifteen more minutes so they're out." You took the noodle menu off the table, placing it on the discard stack.
"Anything else look good or do we need to go to the convenience store?" You asked and when he didn't reply, you slammed your hand down to get his attention. He startled and his wide eyes were really very cute, but you would never admit it out loud, even in private with just him. While you loved him to pieces, you were very reluctant to voice it. After trying to say he was annoying for so many years, you were loath to admit you didn't hate him. You never did, you were just in denial about how much you liked him despite your harsh words. He saw through it.
"Donghyuck!" You scolded and he blinked.
"What?" He emphasized the vowel, and you rolled your eyes. His shocked face softened to a smug grin as he watched you watch him put the next cherry in his mouth, the other pit still in his cheek. His tongue wrapped around the red orb as he took it between his lips, and you shook your head to pull your attention away. He huffed in amusement, you were such a tsundere.
"What are we having for supper? I only got snacks and stuff…" You poked the container holding the cherries. You had planned on eating out or getting delivery, but the stupid holiday interfered with your regular Saturday night plans.
"We could have each other." Donghyuck smirked, chewing the last bits of fruit off the pit before rolling the two around his open mouth playfully. He knew your eyes were not just on his face, but specifically his tongue. You swallowed hard and your eyebrows furrowed, mouth open to scold him again. He let the pits fall out of his mouth and onto the paper plate where the rest of them laid and his smug look turned bored.
"Idiot." You clicked your tongue, face pink, "I need actual food."
"Hm, you might, but I could just eat you?" He winked and your let out a disgusted grunt, getting up from the table and moving to leave the apartment and head down the street.
"(Y/N), wait!" He cooed at you, skipping to follow you. When you started to wiggle your foot to slip it into your sneaker, he kneeled down to tie his. You struggled to get the shoe on without untying it, so he leaned forward to help you get them on. The sweet gesture made your cheeks warm further, but you didn't say anything, so he helped you get the other on. He stood back up with a hop, still taller than you even though he was standing on the lowered part of the floor by the door.
"Ready, milady~?" He held his arm out for you to link with, but you just mumbled something and walked past him and out. Your boyfriend sighed dramatically but followed after you still. You always made up for your dismissive behavior after he railed you into the next morning, turning affectionate and playful. He continued to try and seduce you through the not subtle act of aegyo, and you kept shoving him away, especially as you walked down the road. Donghyuck held the door open for you as you entered the convenience store. The inside was just as dead as the streets, and it felt nearly surreal. You each shopped around a bit, and he got nearly twice as much food as you, and for some reason he felt the need to buy everything he could find that was cherry flavored.
"You know none of this stuff tastes like actual cherries, right?" you asked, watching him place the different candies and sweets down. The only thing you would actually consume was the cherry flavored cola he got as well.
"I know. That's what the actual cherries are for." He pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Not wanting to admit it even in your own head, the blank look he gave you was just as cute as everything else he did. It pissed you off a bit that he was so endearing. The tired cashier told you your price and your boyfriend had his card in the reader before you could even pull yours out. He took all of the bags as well and you opened the door for him that time.
"Did you need to buy all of that?" You grumbled, eyeing the five bags he was carrying.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Curiosity." He answered after donning a pondering look.
"Okay." You rolled your eyes, not caring enough to delve further into that line of questioning.
"Did you get everything cherry flavored?"
"Not everything…"
"What did you leave behind, cough syrup?"
"The condoms." He stated simply and you halted for a beat, then jogged to catch up.
"Why not?" You finally relented to ask. He tossed you a coy look, "they didn't have the right size." You halted a step but conceded his point and jogged to catch back up. When you finally got back to the apartment, he put the bags on the coffee table, and you grabbed your meal to heat it up in the microwave. As you plugged in the numbers, Hyuck came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle.
"What?" you asked flatly, and he whined pathetically, resting his cheek on the side of your head.
"Can't I hug my girlfriend?" You didn't reply to his question, so he took that as the go ahead to continue. As he smelled your food as it got done, he realized how famished he was and hurried to make his own. Some random variety show played on the TV while you both ate, he devoured twice as much food as you did in nearly half the time. Once you were both done and everything was cleaned up, he laid out all the cherry candies and snacks, as well as some real ones.
"We shall judge them for quality." He motioned broadly and you sat next to him at the coffee table. Hyuck was a bit surprised at how close you willingly sat, pressed to his side. You were warming up. You started to sort through them, pushing the ones you refused to try to the side.
"You need to have the full picture to make an informed decision." He told you with false condescension. He sniffed and picked up the first packet to rip it open. The fake cherry scent hit your nose and you sneered, reaching over the table to grab a real one. As you chewed, he started in on the candy and his face twisted, putting the bag down and grabbing a fruit himself. You pulled the pit from your mouth and set it on your napkin from supper and he did the same.
"Can you tie a knot with your tongue?" He held up one of the stems and you hummed.
"I don't know, I haven't tried." You took it from him, and he plucked another one off a cherry for himself.
"Let's see who can do it faster." He decided and you nodded in agreement and you both watched the other as you took the stems into your mouths. You focused hard, trying to maneuver the little piece with your tongue into the right configuration, but it was no use. When you almost choked on it, you pulled it out, nose crinkled.
"Nope." You turned to look at him and he stuck his tongue out at you, the tied stem resting on the surface
"How the heck!?" You grabbed the little stem from where it laid, looking it over.
"Want me to show you?" His tone had deepened, but you were too confused to register it.
"Yeah!" You turned to watch, not expecting his mouth to connect to yours. Your shocked inhalation allowed his tongue entry and you wanted to fight, but you also really didn't. Hyuck smirked into the kiss as you let out a tiny mewl, expertly twisting his tongue around yours. You moaned when he led you to straddle his lap, pushing the coffee table away with his foot. When you settled, his hands on your hips pushed you down, grinding your covered cunt over his hard cock. You whined, trying to pull back, but he held you still, sucking on your tongue so you couldn't easily pull back. He had a hard time not laughing when your entire body shuddered. Finally, he let you go, you leaned back, panting hard.
"Fucking hell-" Your fingers were clenching the fabric of his sweatshirt.
"I can do more than that~" He hummed playfully, and you blinked, "huh?" Your noise of question was followed by a yelp as he lifted you, setting you on the couch behind him, turning to he faced you. Another tug brought your butt to the edge of the cushion, and he took advantage of your surprise to yank your shorts and panties off without hinderance.
"H-Hyuck~!" You whimpered when he instantly brought his skillful tongue to your cunt, wriggling it inside, nose hitting your clit. You sighed shakily, legs twitching when he hummed, the vibration ringing through him to you.
"Wait-" You tried to get him to stop, extremely embarrassed at your position and feeling weird about how fast he was bringing you to climax. You shuddered again as his tongue left your core, stroking up through your folds to flick your clit. Your eyes were closed, so you didn't see his stupid grin right before he sucked on your clit hard. Hyuck's hands flew to your hips to hold them down as you came, helping you ride it out.
"Too bad I can't pop your cherry…" He mumbled, a little embarrassed at his stupid pun. You huffed in disbelief, having heard him perfectly fine even though he kind of hid it.
"Doesn't fucking matter, get inside me-" he had never heard you so impatient, but he was more than willing to abide. He removed your top as you helped him get rid of his own clothes, and your back barely hit the couch cushions before he was pressing into you. Even if you hadn't just came on his tongue, you were soaking wet, your gummy walls clenching desperately to his cock.
"Aw~ sweet girl~" He huffed in delight as your cunt quivered, getting used to the stretch and before you were fully acclimated, he started to move.
"Wait, Hyuck!" Your hands grabbed his shoulders. When he leaned over you move, he took your hands from him, holding them above your head with one of his. His lips hovered over yours, hips rolling slowly but hard, fat cock battering your back wall. You practically cried when he kissed you again, tongue reentering your mouth to capture yours. You were helpless under him, sanity quickly leaving between his cock in your cunt and his tongue down your throat. When air was getting a bit low, he finally removed his mouth from yours, moving it to your jaw and down the column of your throat. You whimpered with each thrust, getting steadily faster and harder as he sucked your skin. His goal was to make the hickeys are red as the cherries you both had been eating earlier.
"Hyuck, I~" You couldn't get the rest of your sentence out. His hand had let go of your wrists, both of them going to your waist so he could shift positions. He sat back up move, hiking your hips up to arch your back and after an extremely practiced and hard thrust, he chuckled as you came again. He groaned at the tight flutter of your walls and couldn't help but fall over the edge himself. You whimpered when he finally let your legs and hips relax, not pulling out of you yet. With a tired gaze, you watched him reach and grab a bottle you hadn't noticed before from the coffee table, barely within reach. He popped the cap on the red container, an equally red substance spilling out and dripping over your skin. You shivered at the cold, and he licked his lips.
"Hmm… cherry flavored (Y/N)~"
🍉 Mark 🍉
🍇 Renjun 🍇
🍌 Jeno 🍌
🍑 Jaemin 🍑
🍓 Chenle 🍓
🍍 Jisung 🍍
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Masterlist
207 notes · View notes
lazycats-stuff · 8 months
Note
I hope it’s not too weird but can I request batfam a batbro!reader, older than Damian but younger then Tim that isn’t very emotional when it comes to death? Like they don’t understand why people are so hysterical over death. Maybe an animal died and they just go “oh they’re dead” like it was nothing.
Hope ur doing well, I’m projecting so much with this but I can’t wait to see what you do if you do. I love ur writing, can’t wait to read more 🫶
Alrighty then. Thanks for the encouragement.
Summary: (Y/N) is not really emotional about death. Bruce was a little bit worried.
Warnings: talk of death and it's elements, death of animals, this is just Bruce being worried and thinking about his son.
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Bruce knew that his kids have some problems expressing emotions. To almost all of them, death was a touchy subject. Bruce knew that better than everyone. But his second youngest son was a whole another case about it.
Why, I might hear you asking? Well, (Y/N) had no reactions to death. Bruce always waited for (Y/N) to get hit with the reality, but the reality and the aftermath didn't hit him. Never. Bruce understood that everyone grieves differently, that was in human nature. There isn't really a rulebook on how to grieve.
No human thought the same and no human grieved the same. But to Bruce, (Y/N) was a whole another case. He loved his son and when (Y/N)'s parents passed, he wasn't really sad. He was... fine.
Bruce waited for the aftermath to hit and he waited for (Y/N) to crumble and he was more than ready to help him and he was more than ready to catch him.
But the aftermath never really hit him. Bruce would be lying if he said that (Y/N) wasn't sad, but it wasn't a normal grieving behavior either. He was so worried that he asked Black Canary to talk to him about mourning and grieving.
Canary said that there was nothing wrong with (Y/N). She just told Bruce that he didn't grive in a normal way, but that wasn't any reason for concern. He wasn't a sociopath or a psychopath.
Bruce could breath a little bit easier. But sometimes (Y/N)'s calm demeanor was the thing that could get him in the most of trouble. It was just recently when a bird that Damian was caring for passed away.
Damian was sad and the rest of the brothers were sad too so they decided to bury the bird in the yard. Everyone made little speeches, expect (Y/N). He didn't see the point. It was just an animal. Everyone was emotional in their own way, expect for (Y/N).
" (Y/N)? Anything you want to say? " Bruce prompted, putting his hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder.
" I don't have anything to say. The animal is dead. That's all. " (Y/N) said, looking down at the tiniest coffin that he has ever seen. Damian fumed. If it weren't for Dick, Damian would have lunged at (Y/N).
Bruce could only sigh and lead (Y/N) away as they were done with the ceremony. He really needed to talk with (Y/N) about being sensitive when it came to death. Sure, you don't have to cry, but still, have some empathy for those who are suffering.
" But Bruce, I don't understand why people are so emotional about death. I mean, it happens. It's a natural process. We are all slowly going towards our deaths. " (Y/N) said after the talk he had with Bruce.
" I know. But people have different approaches to death. Some grieve openly, some in private, but one thing they have in common is that they are all in pain. Animal or a human. " Bruce explained to his son.
" I should apologize to Damian then. " (Y/N) declared, standing up. If Damian doesn't try to kill him first. It was 50/50.
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avesque · 1 year
Note
can i please request a drabble with i pushed everyone away because they weren’t you + neteyam? thanks.
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of all the girls — neteyam
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INCLUDES best friends to lovers. angst to fluff. 0.7k words.
NOTE i need him so bad. you can request a prompt of your own here! (also the great war part i might come out this thursday/friday. i promise i see those asking to be tagged, i will not forget u here is a big kith mwa) OH AND HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY i love you!
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neteyam finds you all alone by the docks with your feet submerged in the water. it’s a quiet afternoon and the others are out and about with tsireya and other metkayina kids.
he finds his palms sweaty the second he settles beside you.
you don’t bother to look at him. it makes his heart squeeze painfully as your gaze stays fixed ahead, over the reefs and the horizon that he thinks you’ve mentally reached home.
you cut him off just as he’s about to break the quiet.
“why’d you leave?”
to others, it might sound nonchalant. but neteyam has known you for more than a decade; can read you like that back of his hand. there’s a bite to your tone that makes his heart climb up his throat.
you place your palms behind you and lean back but you do not look at him.
“you left,” he says. “i followed you.”
“no shit,” you scoff. it makes him wince. you always did hang a lot around lo’ak.
he swallows his nervousness.
“listen—”
you’re quick to rise to your feet. “well, i need to go.”
neteyam calls your name.
“i don’t want to hear it.” your tone is cold, biting. if he didn’t know better, he’d think you’re leaving behind snow rather than the sand you’re kicking off as you walk away hastily.
he follows you just as he has for the past twelve years. always behind you, always watching. waiting.
he snatches your arms once he’s caught up and something spears through his heart when he finds tears brimming in your lash line.
“no,” you seethe, wriggling free from his hold. “you leave me alone. go back to ayrona since you like her that much, huh?”
neteyam heaves a deep sigh, latching on to your arm again. gentler, this time. softer. consoling.
“no.”
you scoff again. the metkayina girl had shown interest in neteyam ever since you got here, always there, always lingering. it makes your skin itch, your blood boil. you’ve been watching them all this time, how she seems to enjoy those breathing lessons with neteyam. remembering it makes you want to scream.
but ayrona wasn’t the only one. back in the forest, before you had to flee, you heard other girls’ names tied with neteyam’s from hearsay. you did not have the heart to ask him about it, afraid that the confirmation will break your heart more.
ayrona is just the final straw.
but this is wrong. the lone tear that cascades down your cheek is a burning shame. neteyam is not yours.
at times, you feel like you may stand a chance, against all these other girls and against all odds. you’ve been toeing that line between friends and something more, touches lingering more than they should have, gazes softer and sweeter than most. but nothing has come of it.
you fear what you thought could have been was just a miscalculation on your part.
neteyam holds your cheek so delicately, thumbing away the salt on your cheek.
“oh, y/n.” his voice is honey; says your name like a prayer. you close your eyes, clumped eyelashes still spilling tears. “ayrona—” your stomach plummets, “—is a friend. just like tsireya.”
you sniffle, shaking your head and leaning away from his hold. but neteyam is quick, placing his other hand on your chest, right where your heart is.
“you,” he breathes, “are so much more.”
he rests his forehead on yours and he pulls you close.
“do you want to know why i told rey’nin to stop?”
rey’nin was the omatikaya girl who, despite the people’s disapproving stares, had pursued him.
“the others too,” he adds and proceeds to enumerate the girls who have shown interest in him. something warm lands on your cheek and you belatedly realize neteyam has placed a kiss there before he’s pulling away.
nimble fingers glide over your eyelids and your eyes flutter open to see gold staring right back.
“i pushed everyone away because they weren’t you.” he says your name again, this time, like a promise. “you are the only one my heart beats for. i see you. i always have.”
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faith-forgxtten-land · 2 months
Note
Hihihi!
I'm not sure if your requests are open, but the fic I just read was a request and was posted within the last 24 hrs, so I'm gonna take the chance that they are (can you tell I'm autistic yet?😂)
Could I request a slightly nsfw (just a lil spicy) Bay!Raph fic where the Fem! Reader is watching him workout and offhandedly mentions that she wishes she could lift as much as he does?
Her question prompts him to let her lay on the bench and "lift" the weights (obviously he's carrying almost all of the weight). Just a corny little piece that shows our Big Red some love.
Thank you for your time!💜
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Spotting | Raphael
requests are open dw!! honestly feel free to send as many requests as you want at any time, if they're not open you'll know because i'll plaster it somewhere obvious. and corny pieces are the best kind <3
since its valentine's day, i kind of went extra corny with a vague valentine's plot... i hope you like it and lemme know what you think! it's only slightly spicy and suggestive because tbh i wasn't sure how far to go.
warnings: suggestive, slight choking? (oops) valentine's day mentions, single people try not cry too much. everyone is 18+!! never proofread
summary: it's valentine's day and for some reason you have nothing better to do than watch raphael lift weights
word count: 1195
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Why are you lifting weights on Valentine’s Day?”
“Why are you watching me lift weights on Valentine’s Day?” Raphael retorts quickly and it’s such a good question that you pause.
Well, then. You sniff in mock indignance. “I’ll have you know that I was asked out by 12.5 different people ahead of today, thank you very much.”
You can’t see it, but you can tell he’s smirking. “12.5?”
“I figure Mikey only counts for 0.5 since I’m pretty sure he’d ask every woman he sees if he could.”
Raph snorts and your mouth pulls into a stupidly wide smile knowing you’ve amused him. He’s so relaxed like this, when it’s just the two of you, and your smile turns soft at the thought. There’s no one you’d rather spend the day with – Valentine’s Day or not – and the view isn’t bad either.
Speaking of... you tilt your head. Rivulets of sweat trickle down his green skin and you bite your lip watching the flexing of his muscles. He’s so much bigger than you, you’re pretty sure his bicep is bigger than your head, and he could cover your entire face with his palm – he’d done it just yesterday when you wouldn’t stop pestering him about a romcom you wanted to watch (it’s okay, you knew they were secretly his favourite kind of movie too, he didn’t have to protest so much – even grown turtles should be allowed to indulge in some Richard Gere and Julia Roberts). 
His size had intimidated you at first, had made you hesitant, but now it makes your knees weak and makes your heart accelerate with something entirely different to fear. It’s quiet apart from his breathing and the clang of his weights and you wonder if he can hear the thundering of your pulse.
“You’re staring.”
“Hmm?”
His muscles flex again and you’re quick to press your thighs together. You’re certain it's deliberate at this point. “You’re staring,” he repeats, his voice a little deeper.
You flush as you realise what he’s saying. “Not my fault you can bench press a truck,” you grumble to hide your embarrassment. “I’m jealous.”
The terrapin smirks again and sits up, his eyes bright. “C’mere.”
“Ex-squeeze me?”
It’s Raph’s turn to grumble. “You’ve been hanging around Mikey too much.”
You grin because it's true and walk slowly towards where he’s waiting. Your feet are clearly more sensible and less fuzzy than your brain (you are definitely not still thinking – and staring – at his arms, nope) because they stop just before you can stand between his legs. His eyes run along the curves of your calves and his gaze feels like a dizzying caress as it glides up your torso, lingering on the bare skin around your throat in a hungry way that makes you swallow just to watch him watch the movement. “What’s the plan, Red?” 
Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and you’re kind of impressed by how put-together you sound. It’s not the breathless wheeze you expected, it's low and sultry and suggestive and your eyes flutter as his breath hitches. The two of you have flirted before but this feels different. It’s intimate beyond your typical friendly banter and you have the urge to touch him.
He reaches for you first, pulling you closer and resting his hands on your hips. His hands are huge, and your mouth feels dry as he squeezes a little too hard to be innocent. “Raph...”
He squeezes again at your murmur. “Lie down.” His voice is rough and you shiver. He brushes his fingers across the goosebumps he’s raised, and you let him manoeuvre you with ease.
It probably looks so silly, and you fight the incredulous laughter that bubbles in your chest. The bar above you is ridiculously oversized and heavy and the thought of you lifting it is absurd and your laugh can’t be stopped this time as you look at the green-skinned ninja above you. His lips are twitching as you cackle and your eyes focus on the scar that decorates them, longing to soothe your tongue over it, as you regain your composure. “You good?”
“I’m good,” you reassure him. He’s so fucking cute, you think. You can see his nervousness now even if he tries to play it off and you feel like you’ve just swallowed a bucketful of butterflies. “Are you spotting?”
Raph runs his tongue – you do not shift your hips at how thick it is – across his upper lip, over that scar you want to taste for yourself. He looks torn for a moment, building himself up, and places his heavy hands on the bar above you. “Something like that,” he agrees before instructing you on how to position your hands.
You push up and immediately swear at the impossible weight. Raph snickers and you pout and glare simultaneously. “Don’t be mean.”
“You haven’t seen me be mean, baby.”
Oh. Your glare falters. That’s just not fair and he knows it. He’s grinning now and you curse him in your head. You push again and this time the bar lifts, as light as a feather. His hands are still wrapped around it and you’re not lifting a single thing, but the moment feels heavy. He hasn’t let his eyes drift from yours and you don’t dare look away. It feels intense and intimate and you can admit that your skin is on fire and your pulse is throbbing knowing how easily he’s carrying a weight that you couldn’t budge with all your might.
He guides the bar back down after a moment that could have been seconds or minutes or hours and you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He’s still looking at you as you sit up and he invades your personal space. You have to tilt your head back to maintain eye-contact and you shudder as his palm cups your chin.
He’s so tall and imposing and you have to bite your tongue as his hand trails further down. You let him wrap his fingers around your neck and you rest your hand on top of his in encouragement, unable to stop a needy whine as he heeds your silent request and squeezes gently. His pupils are blown and he’s breathing harder than he had been while working out and you feel smug knowing you’ve caused this reaction. In a blink he’s pushed you back and he’s leaning over you. He smells like sweat and his skin is damp from exertion and it's kind of gross and it really shouldn’t be turning you on, but it is and your legs spread involuntarily.
You expect him to close the gap between your lips as he hovers above you and your eyes that had fluttered shut open again when it’s clear he has no intention of moulding your mouths together. He’s got a soft look in his eyes paired with a devilish smile and it makes your chest burn. You don’t expect the next words out of his mouth.
“Be my Valentine?”
You splutter and he laughs as he finally presses his lips to yours.
282 notes · View notes
blahblahblees · 2 months
Note
hey!!! i was thinking about fem!reader x cole water, something like an enemies/rivals to lovers. they’re both very competitive in class and in sports. but, when cole gets injured, he stops caring about school. now, i don’t know how to continue, maybe reader goes to his house to ask him after he fails or smth and they have a fight that ends with him confessing? idk do your thing!! lots of love
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ヽ`、☁ヽ`─── swim ミ cole walter
✎ ·˚ ༘ ─── two headstrong rivals who’ve always been competitive in everything they do suddenly stop and when push comes to shove, maybe they’ll fall in love.
wc: 1,125
cole walter x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns & use of y/l (your last name))
tw: kissing/making out (?)
a/n: shit description from me i’m sorry 🙏. but i wanna say before reading, this prompt leans more towards the book version of cole so that’s what was in my head when writing :)
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THERE WAS something about Cole Walter that irritated and intrigued her all at the same time. The way he had this “don’t care” attitude, but had been well off to have at least a “B” in all of his classes. He was Cole Walter and he had been the one people eyed in the hallways. The one guy people wanted to be with and couldn’t have unless he looked your way.
And before his injury, the two of you were always neck and neck. It didn’t matter what the topic or subject was, the two of you just had to be better than the other. If you wanted a “A” in math, he would do his best to make an “A+” just to irk you. If he wanted to run laps around the track, you’d join in and out run him by a mile.
But that was before the injury. Before he came an even bigger asshole, which you didn’t think was possible. Something had shifted after the incident and he’d simply changed. He stopped caring about the sports, the academics, the feelings, almost stopped caring about himself it seemed.
And he just pushed people away, he wanted nothing to do with some people, and maybe that’s why the “Cole Effect” had worked so well. You’d be considered lucky if Cole Walter wanted something to do with you, even if it meant for one night.
But things seemed to never go right for Cole. He started failing and if he continued on this path he would repeating his junior year.
And his teachers assigned him to a tutor for every class and she just so happened to be one of them.
She would tutor Cole for science, but none of it seemed to stick. No matter how often they met for the tutoring session, Cole would only come back to her with “D’s” and “F’s” which she didn’t understand. She was a star student herself, so she didn’t quite understand how or why Cole was failing. It looked bad on the both of them and it seemed as if Cole just didn’t care.
So, one night, she decide that she would take matters into her own hands and simply as him why.
She knocked on the door of the Walter’s and on the other side stood Jackie Howard, a small smile on her face as she looked over at the girl.
“Hey.” Jackie smiled.
“Hey.” She replied. “Is Cole home?”
Jackie nodded, opening the door to allow her inside. “He’s upstairs. His room his the first door you see when you’re up there.”
She thanked Jackie and made her way upstairs and gently knocked on the door.
There was shuffling on the other side, but the door opened and Cole stood on the other side, his shirt absent and his shorts hanging absolutely too low, but he was in his room alone, so she couldn’t quite complain.
“What are you doing here, Y/L?”
“Can we talk?”
Cole rested his hands on the doorknob, his body pressed against the frame of the door. “About?”
She sighed deeply. “You keep failing and your grades are reflecting on my tutoring. So I was just wondering-“
“I appreciate you tutoring me.” Cole said, cutting her off. “I really do, but it’s clearly not working. So maybe we should just-“
“It’s wasn’t like this before.” She said. “You’re smart, Cole. I know you. You’ve gotten better grades than I have out of spite. All I’m asking you to do is to try and… study, listen to me when I’m tutoring you-“
“And if I don’t?”
She looked up at him. She was growing angry. Why was he cutting her short? Why wasn’t he trying?
“What’s your problem?” She asked. “Have I done something to you?”
“Not at all, Y/L.” He said calmly. “But it’s getting late, so maybe you should head back home.”
With that, Cole shut his door and she stood on the other side of it, looking at the wooden piece with her brows furrowed.
It was 8:30.
So, she opened the door and slammed it shut behind her as she stood in Cole and Danny’s room. The other twin absent.
“Can I help you?” He asked.
“What’s wrong you?” She asked. “All semester you’ve been failing every class, haven’t joined any extra curriculars, and have done nothing to fix that. I’m trying my best to be nice and tutor you. I’ve been nothing but nice to you and you’ve been nothing but an asshole since-“
“Since what, Y/L?” He asked, his hands pressed against the desk, his muscles flexing as he did so. “Since the accident?” He chuckled. “I had a scholarship. I had football. I don’t have any of that now, so what’s the point?”
“The point is to keep trying.”
Cole shrugged. “I still don’t see the point.”
Her expression softened as she looked at him. "The point is, you're worth more than that. You have potential, Cole. You just need to find your purpose, something that drives you."
"I don't know anymore," Cole said, his tone defeated. "Everything I thought I knew, everything I thought I wanted, it's all gone."
“You don’t need to figure all of that out right now.”
Cole looked down at her, his eyes searching hers. He heavily sighed as he began to think. Why was she the first person to actually talk some sense into him? Out of everyone, it’d been her to make him almost feel seen.
So, he stepped forward, cupping his hands onto her cheeks and gently pressed his lips against hers. It was a soft, tender kiss at first, as though he was testing the waters to see if she would respond.
Cole pulled back, his forehead resting against hers.
“I’m not going to be one of your girls, Cole.” She muttered.
“You’re not.” He said. “I’m sorry… I- I’ll try. I’ll start trying. I just one chance.”
She followed his eyes, trying to see if he’d been lying or that it was some sort of false hope.
But she couldn’t see it, no matter how hard she looked, nothing but a chance had been there.
So, she nodded and pressed forward, gently pressing her lips against his.
This time, the kiss was more passionate, their lips moving together with more urgency. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as his hands ran through her soft hair.
She let out a soft moan as the kiss deepened, her own hands running over his muscular chest as she pressed herself against him.
They pulled away for a moment, panting and grinning at each other.
“We’ll just take things slow for now, okay?” She said.
Cole nodded. “I can do that.”
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— lucy has something to say !!
the book and movie are simply not the same
but anyway, i feel like this is kind of all over the place especially towards the end but its down so that’s all that matters.
my request are opened!
you can check out my rules and such before requesting and checking masterlist to see who i write for, for more!
152 notes · View notes
harrysonlylover · 1 year
Text
Hot Wheels (Mechanic H Part 3)
Summary: You find yourself in an unwanted situation, and you learn new things about Harry.
Warnings: Mentions of physical violence (not between Harry and yn), tons of fluff, possessiveness.
WC: 7.2k
A/n: hi!! Hope you like this part, its plot is divided into two, the other is part 4. I recommend you reread part 2 to refresh. Enjoy xx.
Mechanic H Masterlist
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Two weeks ago your greatest concern was finding a book to read, mindlessly skimming the pages of ‘Little Women’ , then a week later you picked on your nails feeling antsy on what hydrangea pot to get as an apology for a green-eyed man that had no business to barge into your daydreams often.
The memory of these two weeks flashed before you as the same familiar forest eyes sliced daggers in your direction, Harry’s face was almost glued to yours, your foreheads touching as his jaw twitched. You didn’t know whether you should be afraid of him or worried for him.
“I’m going to ask you one more time, what are you doing here?” His voice was low and deep, he was not the same Harry who admired a necklace with you.
“Listen Harry I—“
“Oh Come on Styles, let us hear what she has to say too, aren’t you going to introduce us?” The brunette man from earlier spoke and you observed the change in Harry’s expressions whenever the guy addressed him.
“Fuck off Markson, this doesn’t concern you.” Harry wrapped an arm around your waist so tight prompting you to wince at the soon to form bruise.
The crowd got larger and larger , suffocating you and Harry in the center while men and women holding beer cups eyed you up and down and whispered between each other spiking your anxiety even more.
You were starting to realize how bad things had gotten, was it really necessary for you to speak to him?
The familiar sounds of changing tires and wrenches clicking together made you feel at ease; you got accustomed to Harry doing this type of work, so no matter who else is doing it , Harry is the first person to come to your mind.
You swallowed hard feeling your body heat up as the blood pumped fast through your heart, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a tight grip, you did too. Your hand squeezed his bicep since (besides being an asshole today) he tends to be respectful and would not throw you to the wolves by yourself.
But did you even have a choice? He was the only person you knew here.
“I don’t think so , let us have a look at her, maybe she’ll like it here.” The man grinned, clasping his hands behind his back , earning a laugh from his friends around him.
“Remove that thought out of your head now, unless you want a broken arm again. How’s it healing by the way? Was it displaced or comminuted?” Harry replied with a stern tone, hinting to sarcasm at the end of his sentence making people around you murmur as the guy’s expression darkened.
“We’ll see who’ll be laughing after I win the race and get the chick.” The man deadpanned and you wondered if Harry’s jaw was going to crack from how tensed he was.
“Are these like your resolutions for the night? Kinda looks like you rehearsed that line.” The crowd followed with laughter and a chant of ‘Styles’.
The man raised his middle finger to Harry and turned on his heels with his friends following him like some minions. The gathering of people around you slowly dissolved as Harry looked around frantically to see if anyone is watching.
When he felt that you’re all clear he relaxed his grip on you but kept it around your skin for precaution. He noticed how you unsettled you were, your fingers trembling from fear. He cupped your cheek with one hand raising your chin up to his face level.
“We’ll deal with this later, but it doesn’t mean I’m letting it go. Right now there’s something I need to take care of” His voice was as delicate as a bluebird since he tried to soothe you as much as he could.
“Are you a car racer Harry? Is this illegal? What does that man want from me? I can get him money if—“ You ranted anxiously as tears welled in your eyes.
“Shhhhh, nothing will happen to you, I won’t allow it.” His voice got softer if that was even possible as you swallowed the lump in your throat.
You could feel everyone’s gaze on you as if you were an alien or a weird outsider, and maybe you were. Dressed up in a pink cardigan and denims while being surrounded with people wearing shorts and cargo pants leaning against walls or cars showing off their tattoos, some making out or grinding against each other while the remaining lot are fixing cars that appear to be ready for racing.
“Harry listen can we go home now I swear I won’t tell anyone about this.” You begged feeling cold despite the thick cardigan you have on.
“Darling do I look like a scary mafia man to you?” He attempted to joke except that the word ‘mafia’ made you shiver even more.
He laced his fingers with yours leading you to one of the racing cars men were working on, and conversed with them about topics that are still unfamiliar to you despite spending a good amount of time watching him fix cars.
And then it hit you again. A small crowd pointing at you and laughing , the smell of fuel and sound of metal, the cold chilly air carrying the scent of trouble. Your chest tightened up and you could barely control your shaking to tug Harry’s jacket whispering his name silently.
“Hey, hey it’s okay” You’re not sure if you stood shivering and panting for an hour or if he held you quickly ,he slowly guided you into deep breaths, urging you to look at him and him only.
Maybe it was your brain tricking you or you hallucinated for a hot minute from how shaken you were, but you could swear the hydrangeas flashed before you when you concentrated on his green eyes.
“That’s a good girl, now more breaths and close your eyes.” You did as ordered allowing the cold air to hit your nostrils and fill your lungs before letting it out slowly.
“A bit better?” he questioned and you nodded timidly noticing a slight wince on his face.
“Hey Styles, so who-“ a random man came up from behind you.
“Leave from my fucking face right now.” Harry shifted his attitude immediately, his voice dropping poison as he glared angrily at the man behind you that you heard scurry away.
One of the mechanics whispered something in his ear and he nodded , moving closer to the car and opening its door. “Get inside”
“What?” You deadpanned feeling like it’s a prank of some sort.
“Inside the car. Now.” His tone was getting serious as he had a hand laid on the door with the other on his hip.
“No, I said I wanted to leave and—“
“We can’t leave , you chose to come here. I have a race right now and I don’t trust you with anyone around here, you will not stand near anyone that is not me. Which means you’re attached to my hip until I drive you home.” He motioned for you to enter with his eyes and you had no choice but to swallow hard and get in.
“H-harry there’s only one seat.” You mumbled staring at the interior of the car designed for racing , having the driver’s seat with nothing else.
He hummed cheekily crossing his arms against his chest. “Rumor has it that my lap is a nice seat, I mean that’s what goes around.”
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After convincing yourself that you won’t die or get run over by some creepy racer man (which isn’t even logical), you surrendered to the comforting mechanism of deep breaths and observed everyone to get a tiny hint of what is happening since Harry refuses to tell you
He is stationed outside the car, as a matter of fact he didn’t budge an inch. One of the guys who seem friendly or not ‘murderous’ tipped you a light smile but made sure to give his entire attention to Harry, looking very into him which you wouldn’t be shocked about as all men and women here are fawning over Harry, including you.
He opened the car door ushering you to step outside for a minute before propping himself in the driver’s seat and patting on his lap for you to sit on making you gulp hard.
“Zayn’s got everything handled, cmon it’s show time”. His grin was wide and you couldn’t believe that he is enjoying whatever this is.
You reluctantly inserted your left foot inside, ducking your head and laying half your weight on the remaining empty space of the seat, which was barely enough for your knee, as Harry’s bulkiness is taking up the space.
He adjusted the seat backwards and helped you to get seated by holding your forearms and allowing your legs to be dangling comfortably on both sides of his outer thighs, gently urging you to let your center sit above his crotch. You found yourselves in a lotus position, which was too awkward for two individuals in a feud.
He guided your head to his left shoulder, near his neck where your nose unintentionally grazed the skin, taking in his pine shower gel and aftershave odor.
“Can’t have your face cloud my vision now , can I?” You can feel his deep voice rumbling from his chest now that you are laying against him.
Harry appeared to be unbothered by this whole ordeal, maybe even accustomed to having people in his lap which you didn’t really want to think about. But did he ever see them on a daily basis and act nice, then tuck their head in his neck?
Your heart was going faster than any racing car nearby, and regulating your breath in this position was unmanageable, he made you as nervous as a schoolgirl on her first day, he can even feel all the pumping with how quiet the car is, veiling any outer unwanted noise.
“Harry can you move? Am I crushing you?” You muttered under your breath hoping he heard you as you’re too anxious to say anything else.
“Shh.” He snaked a hand around your waist , flaunting a calm demeanor and tapping his feet along to a beat he’s humming.
You decided to remain quiet and not ponder any further, if not for the situation you’re in, you’d sleep soundly immediately. Harry signaled something that you cannot see to the guy named Zayn. Your head was facing the window and you spotted a man in the center holding a flag.
They really are about to race.
You wish you had confidence like Harry, you’re not the one racing yet you’re worrying enough on his behalf. He placed a CD inside the CD player. Why does he need to play music for everything? There could be an apocalypse and this man will whip out some Vinyl or radio.
“Gonna hold on tight to me yeah?” He turned on the ignition allowing the engine to warm up and drove to the start line.
“Hmm I guess, what if you can’t drive because of me? I’m just really concerned—“
“Oh darling, I’m not the one you should be worried about.” You can almost see his smug vividly, but your thoughts were interrupted thanks to Gangsta’s Paradise by Coolio playing. The man in the center waved a flag and Harry’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he sped off in a race with the same guy who was bothering you earlier.
The song was still playing and you can hear Harry’s heartbeats in sync with the speed of the car, your eyes were shut and you held on to Harry like a Koala, too scared to let go or peek.
The engine roared while his foot never left the gas pedal, he effortlessly handled the dangerous turns with a smooth drift with only one hand, as the other refused to leave your waist.
He used the palm of his hand to shift the wheel, and you can feel yourself loosen up as Adrenaline kicked in slowly , so you allowed yourself to take a look. The man Harry is competing seems to be infuriated as you are ahead of him.
You wish you didn’t take a glance, the other guy has caught up with you and is trying to bump into the car, you were surrounded with high fence walls, it wouldn’t end well for both of you if he gets to do it.
“Harry look he wants to—“
He hummed rubbing soft patterns against your skin asking you to not worry about it, any sane person would shout and freak out even more but when his fingers touched your bare skin you didn’t question him any further.
Harry abruptly spun the car catching both you and the man off guard, as the latter slowed down. Harry continued driving but in backward motion which was more dangerous and way harder. He was only using the front mirror for directions and he still nailed every drift and turn perfectly.
The other car was trying to cross over, but Harry turned into a professional menace. He mimicked the man’s moves, blocking his way whenever he attempted to pass, shifting to the left with him and to the right when he dared.
You could not take in Harry’s focus at the moment, neither how talented he is, as if he invented car racing. His body was relaxed in the seat and legs stretched to reach the gas and brake pedals, your body was crushing him and he welcomed it with an embrace soothing you into a calm state, his hand never once separating from you despite your full ability to hold on to him.
You wish you could properly see his biceps flexing as his other hand gripped the steering wheel absently without second questioning like he’s been doing it since the moment he began walking. However you could feel his stomach clenching and contracting beneath you, his light panting almost not observable but how can you not, when the shape of his parted cherry lips is engraved deep in your mind.
He was able to drive in an opposite motion and do tricks on the other man who was about to hit a fence wall because of Harry despite driving in the right direction, and you don’t need to look to know that Harry is shooting daggers to him.
Harry was even bobbing his head to Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood and you figured that this can’t be his first time dealing with such races. No matter how he did it he always got to remind you of his stamina and you gulped at the thought of its intensity in other activities.
Out of all the tension in the car, Harry’s playfulness and your fear, the only thing that was left unaddressed is the thick bulge in his pants that began to form as you unintentionally grinded over his clothed crotch every time the car shifted.
Harry could not care less if four cars were onto him from ever side, he can always manage it. Yet can he handle the painful hard on you gave him? Or the way your cunt began to warm up and clench around him? He guessed that you have no idea about the last one so he stayed silent and spared you some flushed cheeks and instead lowered his nose, allowing it to graze your hair breathing in your strawberry shampoo.
As you began the third and final lap, it was evident that Harry is the winner, you could go and on and talk about his ability to drive backward when you struggle to park properly (back when you had a car).
“I love seeing petty boys try and challenge me, but I love it even more when I see the sore look on their face when they lose Daddy’s money.” He chuckled as he laid his chin on the top of your head, his eyes quickly drifting to the mirror to manage up till now the most dangerous drift, you felt yourself about to stumble but got balanced quickly thanks to his tight grip and ability to lift your weight up .
Superman by Eminem faded slowly as the chanting of ‘Styles’ became closer and closer before the flag was waved marking the end of the race and announcing Harry a winner. His arrogance would not allow him to stop there, he reached the center and flaunted circular spins in the car surrounding it with fume, hearing the crowd go crazy over him, you could’ve sworn the applause made his clothed cock twitch beneath you.
Harry brought his hand to lift your face up gently, finally getting a proper look at your face. He smiled delicately as if he didn’t just recreate Fast & Furious.
“Hi there, smooth ride, eh? Best driver in the Milky way.”
“Why the Milky way?”. You arched an eyebrow expecting a joke.
“I doubt it’s true but imagine an alien with a spaceship better than my car, they probably have the tools.” You looked into each other’s eyes before cracking up into a laughter fit.
He’s glad he got you to laugh, he knows he shouldn’t have made you go through that, but he had no choice.
Your moment of joy was interrupted by the other car arriving and stopping abruptly in haste, the man stepped out of the car looking furious , but to be fair he was more on the verge of tears.
“Cmon Styles face me.” He shouted making everyone murmur and look around between him and Harry in the car.
Harry rolled his eyes and moved the strand of hair from his forehead before puckering his lips. “Listen, I’ll be back this won’t take long yeah?”
He raised the volume of the song ,gently stepped out and locked you inside the car. You couldn’t hear anything that was said between them even when you turned off the CD player, the crowd hid him from view and their voices overpowered Harry’s.
He knew it would be better for you to not witness anything, you didn’t have to. The snarky kid Markson stood in front of him with a weak attempt at appearing powerful when Harry knows he’s just another rich kid with a tiny dick.
“Ah there he is, go on and tell them how you tried to kill me.” He sneered sporting a fake expression on his face.
Harry stood with his arms crossed trying to hold his laughter, Markson really is a dumb boy , he thought.
“Seriously a kid can gaslight me into giving him candy better than you.” Even Markson’s little minions laughed before he shot them a “glare” prompting them to stop.
“You’re just a liar, who’d do anything for money.”
“One that I earn with my hard work. Instead of kissing daddy’s arse for it.” Markson looked like he was about to start a physical fight yet he knows he isn’t of Harry’s fitness level but of course, he wouldn’t say it.
“Hey let’s go ask the hot chick what happened, we can get her a drink and have some fun.” Harry felt all the rational thoughts leave his brain and hot fume light up his body at the boy’s words.
Markson began strolling in the car’s direction but Harry stopped him with his arm as barrier, and threw him on the ground like a toy. He immediately bent down to his level, grabbing him by his collar taking in his frightened face.
“Listen here boy, she’s mine which means if I see you breathing the same air around her, you’ll wish for functional lungs, as a matter of fact if I see you here again your daddy will have to pay for your new legs.” Harry gritted his teeth as he threatened the boy who’s gulping hard.
Harry’s nostrils were flaring and he doesn’t even know why he got so worked up. He punched him in the face with the hand adorned with rings displacing his nasal bone.
“Consider it a kind warning.” He left him bleeding on the ground and kept walking towards the car. The looks he received were a mix of fear and respect.
“Yo Hot Wheels, your 10k?” Manny who dealt with the money earned shouted at him.
“This isn’t the time.” This was all Harry had to say before everyone scurried away, backing from the car where you have been waiting trying to know what’s happening.
He unlocked the doors and held his hand out for you before throwing his keys to Zayn and attaching his arm to your waist for the third time this night.
“What happened out there?” You questioned him as nothing yet was making sense.
“Nothing that you need to know, let’s go.” He deadpanned motioning in the direction of Layla parked nicely outside.
A familiar voice shouted your names making you halt and turn around. “Hey wait up!” Niall screamed as he ran to catch up with you.
“Harry listen I—“
“I figured you’re the one who drove her here. I’m not sure you’d want to speak; you have 5 seconds to leave. I’d hate to show you what happens if you don’t.” His voice was deep and threatening, and Niall looked shameful.
“I can explain just let—“
Despite Niall driving you to this place, you can’t be too mad at him, you didn’t even wait up for him to escort you and he might have thought you know about these races.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Harry it’s my fault too.” You muttered next to him , wincing at the sight of Niall.
“Never said it isn’t, we’ll talk later.” His gaze didn’t avert from Niall once and you huffed knowing how stubborn he is. Niall was gone before Harry reached the number four, you both went inside Layla and you felt as if you were back to zero with him.
“I’m taking you to mine’s no questions asked, we need to talk and it’s better for you if you stick with me tonight.” He did that move again with his palm on the steering wheel and you observed him as he drove without another word.
Harry isn’t exactly sure why he did that to Markson, he doesn’t even understand the necessity behind taking you home with him. He answers the questions in his mind with unreasonable answers and he wonders if he’s trying to convince himself or you, as if you could read his thoughts.
What pisses him off more is that he unconsciously wants to win your side despite you being more wrong than him, and for that to happen, he’s going to need help from a companion at home.
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During the car ride you let your head rest against the window feeling too lost in Stray by Yellow House playing, Harry’s driving was the absolute opposite of the race, his demeanor changed into a relaxed state, however the silence was uncomfortable.
You noticed how you got a bit further away from town, but it’s not like you minded, your life was dependent on him an hour ago. Would it really matter if you question your whereabouts?
The headlights were on to stir away the darkness of the night, you can smell the leather seats and Harry’s cologne reeking off his skin where your nose was attached for a good twenty minutes.
The thick rosy cardigan you have on felt like a warm hug against your skin but you took it off , allowing the night breeze to touch all over your body, impale your senses as it carried the scent of the forest you’re passing by. The smell of the soil and the roots dug deep inside, and the baby flowers waiting for Spring’s permission to blossom and arrive.
A deep breath after the other was taken as you were mesmerized, the road was empty so you laid your head on the trim of the window, closed your eyes and felt everything consume you all at once.
It wasn’t until Harry changed the song to ‘Lovers rock’ by TV girl that you snapped back to reality and drifted your gaze to find him staring at you without once looking out to the road.
For a minute you didn’t want to worry whether you crash into a car or a tree, you held the eye contact and realized that he’s the first person whose presence was almost invisible but tender, you acted as if you were alone around him, no anxiety, no thoughts. Just a simple melody that he’s playing and the breeze in your nostrils.
“What’s wrong?” You questioned him on his staring.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” He replied in the softest voice you’ve ever heard, flexing his face muscles in a bizarre way.
You knew that move well, you’d done it a million times to help the soreness in your face when you refused to let out a smile.
Soon enough the trees bid you a goodbye and instead welcomed a huge field filled with green beauties and in its center sat a house with a dim light. Harry drove on a path that seems to have gone under maintenance especially to reach the little house, the more you approached it the more you got to peer at it.
Its walls painted with sunflower yellow, windows’ frame a blue that reflects the sky. A beige wooden chair is placed under the window (perfect for an afternoon read!). A row of hydrangea pots was organized to create a perfect display, it was so different from the one in the garage.
They ranged from white, blue and pink to violet and green. Suddenly your view was veiled by Harry who stood in front of you making you aware of the engine stopping and your hands cupping your cheeks as you stared in awe at the house.
He opened the car of the door for you , helping you to balance yourself since his car’s level is really low, he grabbed your cardigan advising you to put it on mumbling something about the flu.
You were still gasping and letting out ‘Oooh’s at the pretty hydrangeas. You didn’t even know they existed in green. The door was painted a blue lighter than the window frames, one that’s similar to the sea.
Should you tell him that his house is the Sun, Sky and Sea?
“You can freshen up in the bathroom on the left, I’ll make something for us to eat.” He said as he let you inside his surprisingly cozy home.
You scurried to the bathroom before you did your inspection, you might have spotted a Vinyl player that you urgently need to test (for entertainment purposes). You can hear Harry’s movements as he walked around, opened the refrigerator and chopped up something.
You washed your face with warm water to freshen up and went outside to see Harry cooking onions in a pan with teary eyes, he must’ve taken his jacket off as he stood in a white tanktop and leather jeans, his hair was clipped back in a sprout to avoid getting it in his face and the pan.
The sizzling of the onions and garlic with olive oil alarmed your stomach, recalling how you were upset today and skipped lunch.
“So I think I have some questions, and I—“ You stopped talking midsentence as you gasped upon seeing white fluffy ears rubbing against your feet.
“And that would be Snowy.” Harry dried his hands with a towel and walked over to you, cradling the bunny in his hands like a mother holding her newborn baby.
The bunny was mid-sized, his eyes so black you can see your reflection in them, his fur was as white as snow and his ears were fluttering. He hid his face in Harry’s arms like a shy baby.
You were practically melting at the little creature, pouting and asking Harry if you can hold him. In between moments, it finally clicked that Harry Styles the grumpy mechanic (and racer) has a bunny pet.
A model replica of the plushie you gave him, that sits inside Meena. It wasn’t a bad choice after all.
“Mhmm looks like he loves you.” He gently shifted him into your arms feeling his soft fur, as you and Harry’s fingers touched sparking electricity in you.
You tried not to think much about him towering you and standing arm to arm next to you, his presence was suffocating and you could barely focus on the cute bunny you’re holding, but he spared you all that and went back to the yummy sauce he’s preparing.
“I didn’t expect you to have a bunny! He’s so warm and fluffy.” You gently caressed his head as you sat down on Harry’s emerald green sofa, forgetting all about the questions you wanted to ask, or offering him help as he cooks.
He did seem capable of handling everything, you barely spent five minutes in the bathroom and he was quick to boil the pasta, chop onions with garlic and sauté them, lay all the ingredients in front of him. Though sadly, you caught only a quick snippet of him squeezing a lemon using his bare hand.
“Hmm, I suppose there are lots of things that you didn’t expect of me.” He added tomato sauce and pepper as you observed him intently while he worked under the yellow kitchen light.
“After tonight ? Absolutely.” Snowy shifted slowly in your arms joining his feet and hands together in an attempt to catch your attention.
Harry’s house was another thing that you didn’t see possible. His kitchen aesthetically joined with a spacious living room containing the most bizarre collections. A mosaic chandelier, vintage pale yellow sofa, the vinyl record player (which is not a fragment of your imagination), with a stand holding a huge amount of vinyl, posters on the walls for Elton John, Italian landscapes, and movie scenes.
The scenery itself was too pretty to describe, it was like stepping into a vintage shop and travelling back in time to every year you could possibly imagine, yet still having a sense of the present. His house is the teddy bears you get on Valentines, fresh lemonade on a hot summer day, candies that taste like childhood and the first sunshine after a thunderstorm.
Bunny’s ears kept fluttering as your hand caressed his white fur, he seemed to be enjoying it and you felt like kissing him aggressively from how fluffy he is.
“I’m almost done.” The spare human spoke diverting your attention from Snowy.
The smell of the pasta sauce was getting stronger with every whiff, he marinated the grilled chicken with it before dropping the pasta in the pan. You were a bit baffled as to why he didn’t play any songs, if you’re not mistaken it may be the first time you witness him do something without music.
“Do you know why he likes you this much?” Harry asked you as he came up with a million answers before your reply.
“Cause he’s friendly?” You guessed looking back at Snowy who’s hiding his face in your lap.
“Quite the contrary actually, he’s shy around strangers but he adores strawberries and you smell like them.” Harry joined you on the sofa with a strawberry in his hand, tickling Snowy’s feet.
He looked up from your lap, and excitedly thumped his foot at the sight of the strawberry. “Eat it Snow Bun.” Harry whispered to him as if he were a child and bunny didn’t hesitate to nibble on it immediately with his teeth.
“He’s so adorable.” You cooed in awe as the white fur around his mouth got stained with strawberry.
“Mhmm very adorable.” Harry agreed except that he was looking at you instead.
When he was done eating, you gently removed the stem from his mouth throwing it away before wiping his mouth with a tissue. Harry was done with the Pasta and filled up a plate for both of you, he picked up Snowy and placed him in a cozy pink round blanket placed near the TV stand.
“He loves his blankie so he’ll probably nap.” Harry handed you over your plate and you can’t deny how delicious it looks, he even topped it with Parmesan cheese and dried mint.
You and Harry began devouring the pasta (which turned out to be the best you ever had) but after a few minutes the silence was loud and you remembered your initial interest before Snowy distracted you.
“Can you explain more of what is going on? Please?” You placed your plate on the table feeling too antsy over today’s events.
Harry wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked over to find Snowy snoring and sound asleep before he began talking.
“Concerning the race tonight, you were never meant to find out about it. It’s nothing but a side job but it can get dirty, which is why I didn’t want you there.” His words were serious and straightforward as he clasped his hands together and looked at you.
“It can sometimes include drugs, trading with stolen car parts, money laundering and other things and I am in no way affiliated with them. I’ll take care of your appearance but don’t do it again.” He insisted on his last sentence as you shivered recalling everyone’s eyes on you in the race.
“I’m so sorry please don’t shout at Niall, he must’ve thought that I knew about it. It was me who insisted on talking to you.” You felt disturbed at the thought of ruining their friendship, you made a mental note to apologize to Niall. He didn’t deserve it.
“I—I know.” That was all he could mutter as the scolding he had in mind for you evaporated when he saw your troubled and sorry face.
“You were probably just helping me concerning my job, I’m so stupid I even called it ‘my job’, I thought my boss was going to hire me , why would I even think that.” You dropped your head in your hands trying not to tear up at the idea of your wasted work.
“Don’t belittle yourself like that, I’m sure you’re amazing at what you do. His lack of morals has nothing to do with you.” He whispered softly, passing you a napkin when you’re not even crying. Maybe you’ll touch his fingers again he thought.
“I think I’ll head out now. Would you mind giving me a ride?”
“No I can’t.” He answered placing your empty dishes in the sink.
“Oh sorry, no pressure. I’ll walk using my GPS.” You replied as mentally slapped yourself for asking help from him.
“No cause you’re staying here. A thick or light duvet?” He scoffed at your idea of leaving at such an hour.
“Um thank you for that. Whatever is available and I’ll take the sofa.” Your bag was clutched around your waist and Harry dropped the fork dramatically. You’re more pleasant and gentle than he assumed.
“Nonsense, the bed is yours but if Snowy wakes you up, it’s on you not me.” His remark made you giggle as you looked back at the sleeping Bunny who’s already travelled to a different land filled with strawberries.
Harry got to work right away, preparing his room for you and changing the bedsheets, you had no idea that he was freaking out internally as he did not even understand his motive behind making everything perfect. On the other hand he had no clue that you wished he didn’t change the fresh bedsheets as it held his scent.
His room was a wonder, a king sized bed in the middle of the room, the glass window overlooking the wide field, and in the corner was another vinyl stand with a table holding a guitar and notebooks. He had a mini telescope placed near the window, and a large mirror plastered against the wall. It wouldn’t be his room if not for the hydrangea vase near his bedside table where a Franz Kafka book lays.
A huge white grandfather clock was on the other side of the room, not only did it amaze you having only seen wooden brown clocks, but you wondered about Harry’s infatuation with time.
You followed him into the spacious bathroom containing a bath tub and Jacuzzi , he almost bumped into you as he held items in his hand. “I don’t have visitors often so these will have to do and I found a spare toothbrush.” He handed you an oversized white shirt with ‘women are smarter’ printed on it along with shorts that can be tightened around the waist since you it’s double your size.
He was about to leave through the door before you interrupted. “I hope I don’t appear rude, but how did you get this house? It’s not like this in town or even big cities for that matter.” You pinched at your skin feeling anxious over your nosy question.
“I have an engineering degree, good night. Bunny wakes up early by the way.” He flashed you a cheeky grin before closing the door behind him as you stood trying to add one more information to the ones you received today.
After he left you helped yourself to a hot shower allowing his pine shower gel to linger all over your body, it felt so relaxing after the day you went through. It was nearing one in the morning and you brushed your teeth before laying in the lavender scented bedsheets. The window was open and you can smell the soil and Harry’s hydrangeas outside.
Maybe moving here was a good idea after all.
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A soft and warm entity was pressed into your waist as your eyes fluttered open, you can hear the melody of birds outside and the sun casted a ray against your bare skin making you smile at the feeling. You looked beneath your duvet and found Snowy snuggled up to your side, his ears pointed down and hands joined together.
You gave him a soft pat on the head making him cuddle further into your skin, your strawberry smell was probably gone after the shower so you’re not sure why he likes you this much.
The feeling of the duvet against your skin with the sun caressing it and the light breeze sneaking in through the window made your heart flutter. You’ve never experienced such a perfect morning, the twittering of the birds was like a familiar melody that you can’t grasp.
Harry’s room was even prettier in the daylight, adorned with sunlight and shadows of the field outside. The notebooks on the table almost tempted you to peer at them but you immediately frowned at the thought, knowing that you wouldn’t want someone to look at your journal.
You decided to get up with a groan, leaving his warm bed and bunny as you headed to the bathroom, the clock marked six in the morning ,you used the toilet and brushed your teeth before changing back into your clothes and neatly folding Harry’s on the bed you made.
The living room was quiet and the sun struck the mosaic chandelier painting pretty patterns on the wall. Harry was sound asleep on the sofa with a hand tucked beneath his chin. You wanted to laugh because he looked exactly like Snowy when he was napping.
You preferred to leave quietly after everything that happened yesterday, and to avoid the awkward encounter between you and Harry when he wakes up. You kissed Snowy goodbye and gently found your way out of the house.
A walk in the sun ought to help you think about many things, but first of all you need to push away a certain pair of green eyes to the back of your mind.
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You called your boss when you arrived home and asked for a meeting with him and after going back and forth, he agreed to see you at eleven o’clock , you were now seated in front of him in his office watching him eat a donut as you felt your stomach turn at the thought of confronting him.
“So how can I help?”
“Actually I wanted to talk about my employment, I—“
“Listen why don’t we leave it till the day comes in like 6 days?” He straightened his posture in the seat and looked back at you.
“No we can’t leave it , are you going to hire me?” You insisted as anxiety rose in your body with every second.
“I’m sure we can discuss this in—“
“Or will you tell me to leave after my hard work like every volunteer before me?!” Your voice rose as both of you turned red in the face. You at your boldness and him at being exposed.
“I’m not sure who told you that, people love to spread rumors.” He loosened his tie and you can feel the change in his breathing.
“Oh so you already have an answer prepared. Why would you assume that someone told me?” You cornered him with your reply and he was no longer looking at you in the eye.
“No you’re talented we just have a tight budget, I can hire you and start from 200$ a month” He rambled quickly and anxiously and was gulping continuously.
“No. I quit or should I say I no longer wish to be a volunteer?” You stood up from your chair grabbing your bag to leave before he stopped you.
“You can’t do that. You still have a week of employment.” He sneered thinking that he can trap you into working for him.
You silently fetched a paper from your bag observing his face go red when he saw that it’s the contract.
“Volunteers are not obliged to deliver a full service to our institution. Any volunteer that feels in need of ending their commitment shall do so without the need for any contract, approval or written acceptance. However the institution is in duty of providing a volunteering certificate.” You finished speaking and folded the contract back into your bag, taking in his flushed and embarrassed face.
“I expect to receive my certificate in an email soon.” You muttered your last sentence before leaving not allowing another word from him.
It wasn’t until your walk home that you smiled like an idiot, feeling like you won a battle. For the first time you spoke your mind without even thinking and defended yourself against a snarky man who was exploiting you.
Your cheeks were hurting from how much you smiled, it might be nothing but for you it was a tiny victory.
Back in your apartment, you celebrated with continuing Pride & Prejudice and pondered about making a Turkey sandwich when your phone chimed several times.
‘Where are you?’
‘Why aren’t you at the garage?’
‘I can’t find my crawler’
‘Hellloooooo’
‘Where did you put my top secret car oil!’
You received these messages from Harry whom you thought was mad at you for yesterday. You didn’t expect him to question your whereabouts and besides top secret oil?
‘I’m not fired?’. You texted back.
‘You have fifteen minutes to be here.’ He replied immediately.
You sent him a saluting emoji, scurried to dress up and placed the book in your bag.
But first, Turkey Sandwich.
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Part 4
A/n: Hope you loved this chapter! Please leave a feedback through an ask or comment xoxo.
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