#i don't want to use another word so that's ok for now maybe
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His very own real princess (Pedri x Reader)
**I'm back with another imagine! This one was requested many moons ago and the anon who sent it might have forgotten about it so sorry 😕 but I got the inspiration for it and so I wanted to share it! I'm not so used to writing short format anymore so I feel everything could be a series. Let me know if you'd like this concept to be one! ☺️ And enjoy! ❤️**
Word count: 3675
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Being famous was not as great as people made it up to be. For Pedri, it meant leaving the house was too much sometimes. He had to deal with people following him and even getting in front of his car just to get his attention. He was asked to sign autographs and to take photos every couple of minutes. While he loved his fans, it could be a bit much. Especially when he could tell they were filming him so they could post the video on TikTok for a couple hundred likes. So, one day, he tried to avoid those people by going to a park. He could probably lose them there. There were so many trees and dogs that made it harder to move quickly around the area.
For you, it had been a bit different. Growing up your family wanted to keep you a secret almost. For security reasons…or so they said. So, naturally, you wanted to rebel against them and do the complete opposite. Still, it wasn’t until you turned 18 that you started to show up at official events. And now you were 20, you realised maybe your parents had been right all along. But you weren’t going to tell them that. Of course. So while some paparazzi were chasing you, you spotted a park and thought you could hide there for a bit. Maybe even call your chauffeur so he could pick you up and save you from the vultures.
“Oh! Sorry”.
Pedri turned to look at the girl who was apologising to him. You had bumped into each other and he hit you in the head with his shoulder without meaning to. He hadn’t even seen you there.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. Are you alright?”
And then, it happened. You looked up to see his face and you couldn’t believe who it was that you were talking to.
“Oh my God…oh my God”, was all you could say.
“I take it you know who I am”.
“Yeah, who doesn’t?”
Pedri chuckled. “I guess there are some lucky folks out there who don’t. But really, are you ok?”
“Yes, it’s fine. Just more shocked to see you here than anything else”.
Pedri smiled at you and you were trying hard not to swoon. Being hidden from the public eye meant you hadn’t been around a lot of famous people before. Your second cousins were way more used to this and always told you famous people were just normal people. To them…not to you. To you, famous people were…fascinating.
“I was planning on hiding here for a bit”, you said.
“Me too, but I don’t want to ruin your plan so I could leave…”.
Pedri started to look around, getting ready to leave so you stopped him. “You don't know who I am so that makes you good company. Perfect company actually. So you can stay. Also, you got here first”.
“Should I know who you are?”
“I guess not”, you shrugged. Not everyone followed your family. Thankfully.
“Are you a singer?
“Babies cry when I sing”.
“Actress?”
“Nope”.
“Influencer”.
“I only influence how much money there is left in my dad's bank account”.
You thought it was really cute how he concentrated, trying to guess. “Then…a model?”
“No, but I appreciate the compliment”.
“What compliment?”
“If you think I could be a model, then you think I'm pretty”.
“Well”, he started. “I like to invite pretty girls to eat or have a drink so…which one is it going to be?”
“There is an ice cream ban there…if you dare approach it”.
It made you laugh how Pedri looked around the area, making sure no one who could know him was there and then he turned to look at you again.
“What flavour?”
“One ball of coffee and one of vanilla, please”.
“Sounds sophisticated”.
“I guess you’re getting closer to my identity”, you laughed.
“What are you? A princess?”
“Nah, the princesses are my cousins”.
Pedri laughed before going to the ban to get the ice cream. The funny thing about being part of the Royal family was that it was so weird that many thought you were joking when you said that. But you weren’t. Not many people knew your parents but they still were part of the family so…they got attention. And now, you got the attention too.
“Here is your ice cream, your Majesty”.
“Thank you, Golden boy”, you joked back.
“Does that make me royalty too?”
“I guess. Football royalty so less hated than real royalty”.
“Less hated? You clearly aren’t on Twitter”.
No, you weren’t. No amount of therapy would heal you after reading what people wrote about you or your family there.
Sitting down on the grass and eating an ice cream while chatting with Pedri was something that healed your mood. It was so nice to be with someone who didn’t know who you were but that also understood how you felt. Even if he didn’t know it yet.
“There are a lot of kids and parents around now. I feel no one will even look at us while we leave”.
You looked around and agreed with his assessment. “Ok, where should we go?”
“I don’t know. Wanna go walk near the beach? It’s usually where I end up when I go out. It’s not often I do but it’s nice to go there”.
“I like the beach”.
“Where are you from?”
“Well…it’s a funny question that one”, you sighed.
“How so?”
“I was born in The Netherlands, then lived in Madrid for a bit, went to school in Switzerland and Wales and now I’m back in Spain. I go to different cities all the time. I like travelling”.
“Wow, that’s a lot. Was it a boarding school you went to?”
“Yeah”.
“Maybe you are a princess after all”.
You giggled and looked down to hide your blush. Yes, your life sounded very much like that of a princess. Even if about 40 family members needed to die for you to become one for real.
“I love this”, you said, looking around and feeling so…normal.
“Yeah? That’s good”.
Pedri smiled at you and you realised maybe it wasn’t so normal what was going on. Sure, you were on a walk like a normal person but you were walking with a very famous footballer. That didn’t happen every day. At least not to you.
“And I see pizza there. Do you want a slice?”
“I probably shouldn’t…”.
“But Pedri! Today everything is possible! You’re not a football player but just Pedro from Tenerife. And I’m not a princess”.
“What are you then?”, he asked, smirking.
“I’m just a girl standing in front of a boy…asking him to get some pizza”.
The excitement of the crazy afternoon made you lose a bit of the control you usually had and you grabbed Pedri’s arm to take him to the pizza ban. It wasn’t like holding hands but…once the physical contact started, you were both very aware of it. But pretended it was all normal.
After buying the pizza slices, you didn’t wait a second to start eating. You were so hungry and it wasn’t often you got to eat greasy pizza with your hands.
“That burns!”, you complained, opening your mouth and using your hand as a fan.
“Maybe wait a little to eat”.
“I was hungry”, you pouted and that made Pedri stare at your lips.
“You got some sauce on your mouth”.
“I think I have a mirror on my bag…”.
But before you had time to find it, Pedri used one of his napkins to clean your face. When you looked up at him, you noticed he seemed to have done that without even realising.
“Sorry”.
“No, don’t be. Thank you for not letting me look dirty while we walked”.
“Princesses have to always look perfect”.
“Exactly”, you told him, laughing.
But good things had to come to an end and soon Pedri started to notice people looking at him. That meant it was time to go home.
“I’m sorry. It just…that’s my life”.
“I get it”, you told him, wanting to explain to him how much you actually got it. “It was fun to spend some time with you though”.
“Would you like to do it again?”
“I would. But maybe somewhere more private”.
“Do you have Instagram? So you can follow me and we can talk about meeting”.
That made you pause. You had an official account controlled by people hired by your family but also a private one. So maybe you could use that one to follow him.
“Yeah. I’ll follow you later and send you a message”.
“Cool. See you…soon?”
You nodded, not knowing what to do. Should you hug him? But then all the people ready to surround him showed you that no, a hug wouldn’t be a good idea. So you said goodbye and left.
Pedri was entering the dressing room a couple of days after you met, not really looking at his teammates but at his phone. You two had been texting ever since you separated. And he was constantly checking to see if you had sent him a new message.
“Hello, your Majesty”, said one of Pedri’s teammates and it took him a second to notice he was looking at him.
“Sorry?”
“I just said hi to your Majesty. Would you like us to find a throne for you to sit on?”
“What are you on about?”
“Haven't seen the cover of the magazine yet?”, asked Frenkie.
“I haven't done any covers lately…”.
“The gossip magazine”, pointed out Lamine. “It’s all everyone is talking about”.
“I don’t get it. I haven’t done anything to be in one of those magazines”.
“How about going out with a pretty girl the other day? Paparazzi are everywhere. You should know that by now”.
So people had seen him when he was hanging out with you. Great. You didn’t seem like someone who’d enjoy the attention. But why make such a big deal out of him being seen with someone unknown?
“You also chose the wrong girl to date”.
“I’m not dating her but she's just a normal girl…”.
“Who's related to the Royal family. And here we were worrying about Gavi being the one who could become king”.
“I would have made a great king”, said Gavi, raising his chin proudly.
“You would have made a terrible king”, told him Fermín, shaking his head.
“What do you mean Royal family?”
Pedri was about to start freaking out. You joked about being a princess but…was it not a joke? What? He knew the princesses! Leonor, Sofía, Victoria, …none of them were you. So what the heck was going on?
“She’s like a second or third cousin of the real princesses but the media has been trying to find out everything about her in the last few years”, explained Pau.
“How do you know so much about that?”
“My mum loves the Royals. I live with her and she talks about it”, shrugged the youngster.
The jokes continued but Pedri didn’t care. He just kept thinking about how you had lied to him. And he got it in a way. It couldn’t be easy to be in your position but…you had spent two days talking to each other about a lot of personal stuff. Didn’t you trust him enough to tell him the truth?
When he finished training and picked up his phone again, he saw a text from you saying “I’m sorry”. A part of him wanted to ignore it but you didn’t deserve that kind of treatment despite your lies. So he asked you to meet instead. But you were in Madrid for a couple of days so it’d have to wait. You apologized multiple times and Pedri told you it was ok but…you weren’t so sure.
“What’s wrong?”, asked your cousin Sofía, who was a real princess.
“You saw the magazines, right?”
“Yes. Wanna talk about it?”
“I…we bumped into each other randomly and it was so good to meet someone who didn’t know who I was. You get it, Sof. If someone gets it, it’ll be you”.
“I do. Is he mad at you for lying?”
“Not really”, you said, frowning. “I expected him to be but he seems to understand why I lied. He also gets it”.
“I bet he does. So, what are you going to do?”
“We’ll meet when I get back to Barcelona in a few days”.
Sofía laughed looking at you. “That smile…someone is smitten!”
“How could I not be? Have you seen him? And he’s super nice too, not just handsome. But I fear I’ve ruined it”.
“Don’t be so negative. Let’s just get ready for the match and forget about your Barça boy for a couple of hours”.
It wasn’t a secret that the king of Spain supported Atlético de Madrid and a lot of people suspected his daughter Sofía did as well. However, it was very hard for her to attend matches without people noticing but she had become a bit of a pro at it. And now she was taking you to the match too.
The match was fun and Atleti won so Sofía was very happy. And you didn’t get spotted by anyone…or so you thought.
“Pepi!”, called Ferran when Pedri was entering the dressing room in the morning.
“What?”
“Your princess is a traitor, she doesn't even support you”.
“What are you talking about?”
“She was at the Atleti match yesterday with Princess Sofía. But I bet you can turn her into a Barça fan”.
Ferran’s wink didn’t stop Pedri from feeling so weird about this whole situation. Or more like jealous. What if you had your eye on an Atleti player?
But he could only stare at the photos in the article. After your meeting, he had only the memory of how you looked that day. Your private Instagram only had a handful of photos and a few were of your dogs. The official Instagram only had a few official photos and…even though that was you too, it wasn’t the you Pedri knew. The girl in the photos from the Atleti match was you. Laughing with your cousin and looking so happy.
The article…he didn’t like as much. After the photos of what the press called “a date” were published, they just assumed you were seeing Pedri. So what were you doing watching a rival team? It wasn’t as if you went to see a Real Madrid match, God forbid. But still…shouldn’t you be supporting “your boyfriend”?
“Hi”.
A few days later, you were back in Barcelona and Pedri invited you to have lunch with him. Finding a place where no one would see you was hard, but your family knew a few tricks to achieve that.
“Hey. It’s good to see you again”.
This time, you did hug as a greeting. Even if you had spoken only via texts, it still felt like you knew each other so well now. So a hug seemed like the right thing to do.
“I’m sorry about everything that happened. I just…I don’t know, Pedri. Being with you made me forget who I was for a second and I didn’t think about how this could affect you”.
“It’s ok. You know I get it. It’s the same for me. My every move is overanalysed. Though I guess being a princess is a bit more important”.
“Not this again”, you shook your head, laughing. “I’m not a princess. I’m a nobody, really. But the press was waiting for a moment like this. A scandal or whatever”.
“Eating pizza in public is very scandalous. I don’t know how your reputation will recover”.
You laughed at Pedri’s joke but also remembered what you had been told. “It’s not so much what I did but who I did it with”.
“Oh…ok”.
When the photos were published, your parents talked to you about all the reasons why you should stay away from Pedri. Before you even had time to say nothing was going on…at least not yet.
“It’s stupid. I told you I’m a nobody. But family connections dictate this or that…I don’t want to date a politician or another royal just because it’s what I’m supposed to do. I don’t have it as bad as my cousins. You know, the real princesses. But still…it’s boring. I want to be able to make my own decisions”.
“You don’t want to date a politician…but would you like to date me?”
Being so annoyed with your family and their restrictions, you didn’t realise Pedri wasn’t stupid and could easily read between the lines.
“You’re better than a politician so…”.
“Look”, said Pedri, grabbing your hand to hold it. “No relationship was going to be easy for me. I knew that. So…this doesn’t scare me”.
“Really? I was actually worried it would”.
“I could see it in your face”.
“Can you read minds now? Is that how you know where to shoot the ball?”
“No, that’s because I’m a generational talent”, joked Pedri, making you laugh. “But I mean it. I’m not scared. Are you?”
“Not as much as I probably should”.
“But…are you an Atleti fan? These are the important conversations we need to have before trying to date”.
“That’s my cousin. I don’t really have a team. So I might let you convince me to become a Barça fan. I already support Spain so…”.
“Even against The Netherlands?”, he asked. Your mum was Dutch so it was a fair question.
“Only if you play for Spain that day”.
And so you both forgot about what people would say, what people would demand from each of you and started to date. There was no need to hide since there were photos of your first date online already. Even if back then you didn’t want to admit it was a date.
Being together compensated for any comments or insults…but Pedri was starting to get a bit tired of his teammates curtsying in front of him and calling him Majesty. They did it with you too, which only made you laugh.
“I told you, guys. I’m not a princess”.
“No. Not officially”, told you Pedri. “But you are my very own princess. My queen even”.
Your blush made everyone laughed. It was so obvious to everyone how in love you both were.
However, the media was going to try to find anything that could make it sound like your lovely love story wasn’t so lovely.
Something your family always had to do was attend charity events. It was probably one of the few things you liked doing, since many of those events raised money for great causes. So when you were invited to one to raise money for cancer research, you said yes immediately. It being organised by the Atlético de Madrid foundation didn’t matter to you. But for the press…it was a different story.
“Hi, it’s nice meeting you”.
You turned to see it was Álvaro Morata, the player who presided the event, saying hello to you.
“Thank you, it’s nice meeting you too”.
“I heard about you and Pedri…sorry if it’s too informal of me to say this”.
“It’s ok, don’t worry”.
“So…you two are really together?”
“Yes”, you said, blushing.
“Good. He’s a good guy. I’ll see you around the Spain matches then”.
“You will”.
Other players were there too and you were introduced to all of them. Mario Hermoso, Marcos Llorente, …they were all very nice to you. But it was a younger player you had to sit next to at your table. One that you hadn’t met before but that introduced himself as Rodrigo Riquelme. However, that wasn’t what his teammates called him.
“Should I call you Rodrigo or Roro?”
“I feel I can’t ask someone of your station to call me such a nickname”.
You laughed seeing the Atleti player blushing. “I don’t mind. I’m not really that important”.
“You are the most important person here”.
“Depends on who you asked”, you shrugged.
It was lovely having someone young to chat with at such an event. You were usually surrounded by old politicians and entrepreneurs who bored you to death with their conversations. So you had a great time…Pedri didn’t have as much fun seeing all the posts on social media talking about how his girlfriend was being too friendly with another player.
He knew it was stupid. You were just chatting with Riquelme. Pedri knew you now and realised that was how you talked to his friends too. That was how you talked to Ferran, for example. It was nothing like how you talked to Pedri.
But still…it wasn’t nice to see so many people doubting your relationship. And, what was worse, insulting you.
“You look unhappy”, you said when you met him again in Barcelona. “Is it because of the articles? Nothing happened with Riquelme. I swear”.
“I know”, he sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your forehead. “I just hate how people will try to find any excuse to try and hurt us”.
“We knew it was going to happen…”.
“It’s not nice anyway”.
“But we’re fine?”, you asked, worried.
“We’re fine. I missed you a lot”.
“I know. I missed you too”.
Knowing Pedri trusted you was so important and you felt you needed to prove you were worth that trust. So, even though you knew you were likely to get in trouble, you forgot about protocol and attended his match wearing his shirt.
It wasn’t even the most important match but when it ended, you went as close to the pitch as you could and called Pedri so he could go meet you. Every one of his teammates that walked past curtsied and called you two “your Majesties”. But you didn’t care. You looked around, noticing the cameras were all pointed at you, and kissed Pedri.
“Making sure everyone knows you’re just my princess?”, he whispered.
“Yes. And while we’re at it, everyone can also learn you’re my prince”.
#pedri#pedri gonzalez#pedri imagine#pedri one shot#pedri x reader#pedri x y/n#pedri fluff#footballer imagine#footballer one shot#footballer fluff#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n
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i wake up say fuck then deal with my mom and try to sleep i hope i never wake up
#im so tired of this going on i have managed to get sleeping pills even they don't work until im on the edge of overdosing i#i wish my mom would care or just even look#i don't want to be the only one solving issues it starts the moment i wake up woman give me some fucking time#i never had a healthy relationship w her we've been driving each other mad from day1 she says things that hurts i don't like her#i don't want to use another word so that's ok for now maybe#rant#mommy issues#toxic mother#i used to be v dicey w this toxic mother bs but i guess this is it this is really it she is i can't help it's not some teenage angst to get#over with#anyways we'll get ready for an argument session 2 where it's more like her ranting and screaming and me fucking existing
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Katsuki gets caught being sweet to you.
You started to finally catch your breath being at the top of the hiking trail Katsuki had dragged you out too.
"Alright there, it's just us up here so tell me already. What the hell has been going on?"
"That's why you brought me out here?" You asked.
"Just tell me already, stop being so damn stubborn." He pried you impatiently.
"I told you I'm fine Bakugo, just busy like everyone else." You replied.
"Don't give me that shit. Do you think I'm stupid? The other extras are too dense to notice but I can see how exhausted you've been this whole week. So just tell me- what's going on," He said.
"You didn't need to drag me out here on a hike in freezing weather to do this, you know," You said, slightly irritated at Katsuki continuing to push you.
"Ugh- will you stop stalling and talk already," He yelled, causing you to let out an annoyed sigh. Katsuki put his hands in his pockets and looked out at the view, his demeanor softening slightly. "You can talk to me, you know," he added, his voice lower and kinder than before.
You stayed looking at the view for a few more moments trying to figure out how to unpack everything that had been stressing you out. It wasn't like some big thing, but a summation of a bunch of little things that were beginning to become too challenging to manage.
A cold breeze blew by causing you to shiver. You wondered why Katsuki had insisted on bringing you up this mountain to talk to you. He could have pestered you in your dorm where it was warm.
Katsuki stole glances at you occasionally then focused back on the view not wanting to intimidate you too much from his glare. Hiking always helped him to clear his mind and gather his thoughts when they seemed too loud. He thought maybe it would help you too, and being away from all your classmates might make it easier for you to talk to him. At the very least it made it easier for Katsuki to be more vulnerable with you. He found it too daunting to express himself fully with all the attention of his classmates around. It was much easier being only in your company.
You took a deep breath, "I guess- it's just been hard to balance everything recently," You finally spoke, breaking the silence. Katsuki made it easy to open up to, as he had no problem sitting in silence for long extended periods. Others in your life felt the need to fill that silence with useless chatter which always prevented you from sitting in your emotions and being able to formulate them into words.
You took in another breath feeling a lump in your throat form. You hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about what was going on for fear of opening up the flood of emotions and not being able to stop. Now here it was. You didn't want to cry on this fucking hill.
Katsuki patiently waited while you gathered your thoughts.
"It's just been so much and I've been barely keeping up. It's- been getting to me recently. I've been forgetting things I shouldn't. Being unusually upset at things that aren't that big of a deal- and I just- it's dumb." You cut yourself off afraid to say anymore.
"It's not dumb. Don't hold that shit in, it's not healthy," He said encouraging you to keep talking.
You sighed, "I just... know that it could be way worse, and I've been through way worse so- I feel so irritated at myself. What I'm going through now isn't something I can't handle. I know that. So why do I feel so fucking exhausted with everything," You replied wiping a stray tear from your cheek.
"Hmm," Katsuki grunted, processing what you said. "You know, it's ok to be tired, and- to not be perfect. You can't just deny yourself from feeling overwhelmed because it could be worse. If you're exhausted now then those feelings are real- and it's ok to have them," He spoke.
You looked down at the view watching the distant cars pass, "Thanks," You managed to say taking another deep breath.
"You shouldn't wait to handle them until they explode either. Trust me, I know what that's like," He said, causing you to let out a small giggle. "You're too damn hard on yourself you know that?"
You let out a full laugh, "Oh that's pretty good coming from you. You're the pro at having too high expectations for yourself," you laughed.
You and Katsuki were wrapped up in your conversation causing you not to notice approaching classmates in the distance. Mina and Eijiro had also decided to come up the hill after class and spotted both of you in the distance.
"That looks like we shouldn't interrupt," Eijiro said.
"Yeah," Mina agreed. "But maybe... we could get a little closer to make sure everything is ok?" She said, pulling Eijiro into the bushes to spy on you and Katsuki. Eijiro was highly against the plan but was unable to protest for fear of you two hearing.
"Yeah I know I have high expectations for myself... that's why I know what it fucking looks like when you're being too hard on yourself. So- tonight I'm coming to your dorm and, I'm making sure you get to bed at a reasonable fucking time."
Mina's eyes widened as she looked at Eijiro, "Coming to their dorm?!" She whispered, and Eijrio covered her mouth, silencing her.
"You mean Grandpa time at 9 p.m.?"
"Shut up! 9 p.m. is late as hell! You damn idiots just don't know how to have a good sleep schedule! Look I'm making sure you get some sleep and tomorrow I'm taking you out. So- figure out where you want to eat, I don't care where. And I'm not letting you say no you need a break," Katsuki replied.
"You don't have to do that Bakugo."
"Of course, I don't have to but, I want to. So just shut up and let me take care of you ok. You better not be afraid to order enough food this time either! I'm buying so- just get whatever you want, alright?"
"Ok ok," You laughed, feeling your mood brighten.
"Next time, just tell me when you're having a bad day or something. Stop making me drag it out of you. I- worry about you, you know? Now let's go back to the dorms. I see you shivering," He said, beginning to walk back down the hill.
Mina squirmed again under Eijiro's hand, keeping her silent. Her eyes said it all. She was in disbelief at Katsuki's words.
"Here," Katsuki said, holding his hand out and offering it to you. "I'll warm your hand with my quirk," he said.
You grabbed his hand interlacing your fingers with his.
"Don't dare say anything about how sweaty my hands are!" He barked.
You giggled, "How many times do I have to tell you I don't care Bakugo. It's part of your quirk, and your quirk is amazing you shouldn't be self-conscious about it. Besides, I'm always happy to hold your hand," You said as you two walked down the mountain.
"Tch whatever," Katsuki grumbled looking away from you as a small tint grew on his cheeks.
Finally, when you and Katsuki were far enough down the hill, Eijiro released Mina.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!?" Mina exclaimed.
"Shh shhh," Eijiro pleaded.
"WHAT- He wants to take care of them?!? OH MY GOD! They are totally dating right?! That's what he said he's taking them out to eat! And he's sneaking into their dorm! Wait wait- when they held hands it sounded like that had before! AND AND BAKUGO WAS TOTALLY BLUSHING! NO WAY!" Mina said looking like she might pass out from all this information.
"Ashido relax, we shouldn't have heard any of that!" Eijiro replied.
"Yeah but but-" Mina exclaimed, her head spinning. "Who knew Baklugo could actually be so sweet! I can't wait to tell Jiro-" She said, pulling out her phone.
"NO!" Eijiro said, grabbing her phone from her. "Uh- sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh but- you can't tell anyone what we heard ok?" Eijiro said.
"WHAT?! I just heard Bakugo being the sweetest boyfriend ever and you expect me not to say anything about that?!"
"YES!" Eijiro yelled. "Look they both like their privacy and there is a reason they were all the way up here talking, Ashido. I think we should keep this a secret and let them do things at their own pace ok?" He said, handing Mina back her phone.
"UGH-" She exclaimed letting out a big sigh. "I guess you're right... but wow who would have thought Bakugo could be a decent person much less a good boyfriend." She said.
Eijiro just shrugged at her words, "I don't know he's not a bad guy like you all make him out to be you know."
"Wait! You totally already knew didn't you!" Mina said, slapping Eijiro's shoulder.
"Hey! I mean- Bakugo is my best friend you know, so yeah I did..." He answered truthfully.
"You suck! Keeping secrets like that from me!" Mina said playfully, waving a finger at him.
"I'm sorry, but it's their business you know?" He said.
"Yeah I understand, guess we should go back to the dorms too now," Mina suggested.
"Yeah it is pretty cold up here, let's go." He agreed as they both started to walk down the hill. "I don't have Bakugo's quirk or anything but- if you're cold you can hold my hand too if you want," Eijiro suggested.
Mina's face tinted a darker pink as she reached out and grabbed Eijiro's hand.
Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries
Picture taken from @everypanelofkatsuki, thank you for all your hard work! Go check them out if you haven’t!
#katsuki fanfic#katsuki x reader#katsuki fluff#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x you#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo#mha bakugo x reader#bakugo x self insert#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x gender neutral reader#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#bakugou x you#bakugo katuski#mha x y/n#mha x you#mha x reader#mha x gender neutral reader#bnha x y/n#bnha x self insert#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x you#bnha x reader
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Fool Me Once | Eddie Munson x Reader
Anonymous Asked: Eddie being your first everything and first boyfriend and reader is like kinda awkward or something. Then Eddie gets really drunk and gets home to reader and starts yelling at her saying like “You’re only dating me because you don’t want to be a sad loser virgin.” and she gets really sad because she genuinely loves him so much and she starts thinking that he doesn’t love her at all… Then maybe the day after he can’t find reader anywhere and maybe she’s like with robin just crying her eyes out.
AN: IDK IDK it’s my first angsty thing I’ve done hope it’s ok 🫣
Cw: angst, hurt no comfort. Small bitty smut. Use of pet names, one use of reference to reader as “my girl”
“I love you, god, I love you” Eddie slowly pumped his swollen cock in and out of you.
You’ve never felt this wave of pleasure before; no wonder everyone was so hyped about sex.
“Fuck you’re so tight.”
“Baby, please.” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but the feeling in your lower stomach was starting to build more and more and more until! Euphoria. Euphoria fuelled your body. The wave of pleasure that Eddie just granted you felt indebted to him.
“I love you,” you sigh as your body melts into your boyfriend.
You’ve been with him for almost six months and finally felt ready to give himself to him. You hadn’t slept with anyone until now, and you were so happy you waited. You never felt so close, so in love, so unbelievably happy in this moment. Life was amazing; nothing could ever break this feeling you have.
Ring ring ring
You were abruptly awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. You were fast asleep, and now feeling disoriented, you looked at the clock. It was already 3:38am. You wondered who could be calling you at this late hour. Maybe it was an emergency? Your heart racing, you rushed over to the phone in a state of panic.
"Hello?"
"You little slut"
"Eddie?"
"Who else would it be? Are you expecting a booty call? another guy you want to fuck?"
"I don't understand? What's wrong."
“What's wrong? I'll tell ya what's wrong! You’re only with me, so you’re not some loser virgin, that’s what! Do you think all the guys will want you to know that your cherry is popped? Well, guess what, honey? Now you're just a sad little whore.” He slurred.
“Wha-“
“You think you’re hot shit now? Getting with the freak of Hawkins? Gonna brag about how you fucked the freak?”
“Eddie, what are you talking about?” your voice wobbled.
He was obviously drunk out of his mind, but as they all say, drunk words are a sober man’s thoughts.
“I know how this is going to go… well, not if I beat you to it.”
“I don't understand?”
“I don't understand?” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about!” He yelled, and you cowered. He didn’t care. His voice got louder and louder. “You were a sad loooooser virgin before me! And now you’re just a sad loser who fucked the freak,” he laughed. He actually laughed.
"Eddie-"
“So we are don-”
You hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence.
You couldn't believe this was happening? You gave Eddie everything. You thought he was your everything up until this point. You slept with Eddie for the first time a week ago. Things were good, great, even. Until he went to the hideout tonight without you.
You stayed up the rest of the night because you were in tears about what Eddie said. None of this makes any sense? You always loved Eddie, and you thought he loved you back? How could he be so cruel?
You were woken up from your daze by a knock on your apartment door. You stumbled out of your room, still in your sleep shirt, with puffy eyes from crying all night. Robin was here to pick you up for work.
"Good Mor-" Her smile dropped along with the cup of coffee she was handing you as she saw your appearance. "Oh my god! What happened?" she rushed inside to wrap her arms around you.
"Eddie. He-" You could hardly get the words out. You just crumpled into a ball on the floor and sobbed pathetically in front of Robin.
"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch" She let you cry into her on the floor. "Come on, you need to get out of here. Get changed. We are calling in sick, and we can return to my place."
Eddie woke up the morning after with a terrible hangover. It was already 12:35pm, and he couldn't remember how he got home. He suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea, which prompted him to hurry to the bathroom, where he vomited uncontrollably.
After the fifth shot, things in his memory become a little hazy. He was pretty hammered by then, but he still kept drinking with the boys. He vaguely remembered Jason being at the bar and making some leud comment about you, but other than that. Nothing.
He stumbled over to his answering machine to find it empty. That's weird? You always call him before your shift, and at least try to catch him on your lunch break. Today was Wednesday, right? You always work the morning shifts today.
Eddie tried calling your number, but he had no luck, so he tried calling your work, and when they said you called in sick, he got worried. So he tried your number again, and it still went to voice mail. Maybe you were sleeping? He tried calling back to see if Robin might know more. But when your annoyed coworker picked up the phone to tell him Robin also called in sick, he knew something was up.
Eddie rushed to his phone book to find Robin's number and called it. he waited for four rings until...
"Hello?"
"Hey! Rob it's Eddie, have you-"
"We are not speaking to you."
"We? Who's we?"
But it was too late. All he heard was the sound of the dial tone.
He tried again, no answer this time. He tried once more before getting pissed and decided to just go over to her place because what the fuck?
When Eddie got to Robin's, he pounded on the door like the pounding going on in his head.
"Robin! Open the door, please."
The door finally swung open to a very angry-looking Robin standing before him.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, Munson?!" She stepped outside and closed the door behind her so he couldn't come in.
"Robin, I'm extremely hungover and do not have the patience for your riddles. Do you know where my girl is or not? I'm worried sick."
"Oh, you can relax now since she is not your girl anymore, buddy." she poked his chest roughly. "you made that abundantly clear last night.
"Last night? I don't remember a thing from last night!"
"Well, think harder because she has been in there sobbing her eyes out from your little phone call."
"Phone call? What pho-" Then it all came rushing back to Eddie. It hit him like a Mack Truck.
"Yo Munson, where is that little whore of yours? Is she usually dangling off your arm like your little pet?" Jason snorted. "I bet she's off sucking another guy's cock; realized what a loser you are."
Jason didn't say much more to antagonize Eddie and get in his head, especially with the amount of alcohol he had consumed.
How could he be so stupid?
"Robin, oh my god, I fucked up. I fucked up big. Let me apologize."
"No. not now." She's a mess, as you can imagine-"
Robin was interrupted by the creek of the front door opening.
There you stood, looking as small as ever. Your eyes are still puffy, and your hair is a mess in your pyjamas at 1:30 in the afternoon.
"Baby, I-"
"Don't!" you cut him off, and Robin leaves to give you two spaces. "Don't you dare come here and think you can just take back what you said to me!" You had done a lot of crying; your anger was showing through.
"You don't understand, Jason was-"
"Jason?! What the fuck does Jason have to do with this? You hurt me, Eddie! I gave you everything! And then you throw it back in my face, accusing me of sleeping around? Are you insane? I've been in love with you for the last year and give myself to you, and you just throw that all away because of Jason Fucking Carver?"
"Baby, please, I'm so sorry; I'll do anything!"
"You've done enough." You turn and slam the door. That's it. You were done. Your heart felt so heavy… like it was just smashed into a million pieces. You were so close to caving when you saw the look of sorrow in those puppy dog eyes. But he had hurt you so bad you couldn’t believe he felt an ounce of pain he had inflicted upon you.
You and Eddie were officially done.
You have been radio silent. You were held up in your room, and you refused to do anything other than go to work.
Eddie called you excessively. It was every day, multiple times a day. His messages made your heartache as you played them back. You could hear in his voice how broken he was. He had fucked up so bad you didn’t know if you should give him another chance. For two weeks, you refused to answer your phone. You were so sick of it ringing you eventually took it off the line.
Eddie did everything he could think of to try and win you back. He sent you flowers to your work every single shift. He called, wrote love letters, and just needed you to speak to him. He was a desperate mess without you. Eddie’s heart, like not, was ripped into shreds, and it was all his fault.
You’ve been in his life since high school since he met you in hellfire freshman year. Then, once you finally confessed your feelings for one another, he couldn’t believe his luck. You said you wanted to be with him, that you wanted him to be the only one you give yourself to. He never thought that he would be so lucky... And here he was, shooting himself in the foot. He even tried to go to your apartment a few times. But you would never answer the door. He would leave a note each time he showed up unannounced. It would say how sorry he was and how much he loved you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.
The slurred words repeatedly played in your head, and you couldn’t make it stop. No matter how much he apologized, nothing he could say could make you forget. Your chest felt like it had a fifty-pound weight sitting right on your heart. Your eyes were permanently swollen from the continuous crying you couldn’t seem to stop. He had stolen your heart and then stomped on it until it seized to beat.
The first month after the breakup was rough, but avoiding Eddie seemed to be easy enough. He eventually got the message by month two and stopped trying altogether.
As time went on, you slowly started to heal. Eventually, your constant thoughts about Eddie subsided. Eventually, they stopped. You never thought you would get over the hurt, but the distance helped. You were getting on your merry way by month three. Finally, feeling like yourself again, eating regularly, sleeping regularly. You hadn’t heard or seen him, and you were finally freed from the prison sentence that was Eddie Munson.
Time spent with your friends and family was exactly what you needed. Even though Robin saw Eddie regularly, she never forgave him for what he did to you. Their friendship was strained, which strained his friendship with Steve as well as Nancy. They wanted to take his side, but once they heard what he had said to you, they couldn’t simply look the other way. So you would hang out with them when Eddie wasn’t there and vice versa. They made sure you never had to encounter one another for the time being. However, it was getting more and more difficult to have two separate schedules to appease you both.
You were to go to Steve’s for dinner with everyone, pizza and movie night. When you arrived, everyone was tense. Lines got crossed, miscommunication ensued, and as you walked through to the kitchen, he was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in his hand, almost slipping from his grip as his Bambi eyes widened at the sight of you.
“Oh shit!” You hear Steve curse when he realizes the mistake that has been made.
“I’m going to go.” You turn and sprint to the door.
“Not wait!l You can hear Eddie shuffle off the chair behind you, but you refuse to look back.
“Please! Wait!”
Threatening tears sting your eyes, and you rush out the front door.
“Sweetheart, wait.” You feel his hand hook your elbow as your body is jerked in the opposite direction in which you’re running.
“What!” You yell, but then you see his eyes. You really look at him for the first time in three months. He had bags under his eyes, and the dark circles extenuated the deep chocolate of his eyes.
“I-I uh,” he lets out a deep breath, “I wanted to say I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I was so god damn stupid, so so stupid, the dumbest guy on the planet. I can’t believe I fucked this up so badly; I love you. I love you so much. I can’t do this anymore without you, baby. Please.” He was on his knees, begging, literally on his knees, grovelling.
“Eddie, get up.”
“No, I don’t deserve it.” He was so pathetic, but he didn’t care. “I love you, please, just please. I need you in my life.”
“I don’t know Eddie…”
“So that’s not a no?!” He popped up like an excited little bunny, the silver oh hope he needed to get by.
“Eddie…” you sigh.
“No, no, you said maybe! You don’t know. You haven’t decided. Please, baby, I love you.”
“This is too hard.” Your lip wobbles as you try walking away again, but he interlocks your hand with his.
“Please, can I at least just hold you?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You let your hand slip from his grip, and he unwillingly let go.
Eddie felt you slipping through his fingers, literally. The hope he had moments ago was gone.
“I’m sorry”
“So am I…” without another look back, you walked away.
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Ok I just got this image in my head of working out at the FBI gym to unwind after a particularly bad case, and Aaron had the same idea and so you're just there getting distracted because you can't help but stare at him and maybe he finally notices and he's amused - I would die (a happy death)
distractions
you and me both <3 cw; gn!, bau!reader, mutual pining, suggestiveness, your basic cm case descriptions, aaron being hot per usual
your first priority after the jet touched down - the bau's gym.
the case had been unsettling; a not-so-happy ending. sure, you had gotten the guy, but not before he had taken out his most recent victim. he had known it was only a matter of time until he was caught, he had known police had shut down the surrounding area, and managed to complete his endgame before being apprehended.
it happened, sucked when it did. and rather than going straight home, a distraction was in order; to move your body instead of laying in the dark internalizing what could have been done differently.
at the late hour, you expected the gym to be empty, and you had been correct, until aaron walked in about ten minutes after you did.
he seemed just as surprised to see you as you did him, silently nodding a hello at you, heading for the treadmills.
you had been on a yoga mat, stretching and warming up your muscles before doing anything strenuous. but at the sight of him, your impending workout plans were far gone.
you were used to seeing aaron in his usual suit, you'd seen him in casual clothes a few times due to team outings, but nothing could have prepared you for the skin-tight black shirt he was sporting. it was clinging in the all right places - his torso, biceps, and yup - you could've sworn he did have the faintest of abs.
you've always been attracted to him, but this. your mouth had immediately gone dry, your body felt warm despite your lack of movement, and no pure thoughts were in your mind in any capacity.
you tried your hardest to not look, but you couldn't tear your eyes away. how could you not? first reason being, it was him. and then the longer he ran, the sweat caused his shirt to stick to his skin more if it were possible, his chest rose up and down the heavier he breathed. as he jogged his calves flexed, and god were his thighs sexy. his shorts were on the longer side, mid-thigh to be exact, leaving more to the imagination than you would have preferred. but the slightly, newly exposed skin was still, well, new.
so you stayed put, choosing to just admire the view before you. but hopefully to not be too obvious, you performed sit ups; lingering upright to grant yourself the visual before laying back down.
well, at least this is one way to forget about the case.
give or take another five minutes, aaron adjusted the treadmill's settings, slowing to a stop.
"that's it?" you teased, a soft laugh leaving you as you straightened your legs out, reaching for your toes.
as if you were the one to speak, barely moving an inch.
"yeah," he took a swig of his water bottle, panting as he caught his breath. "it's a bit hard to focus with you here."
caught.
"oh my god," your face burned with embarrassment, scrambling to your feet. "i didn't mean to- i mean, you just looked so..."
aaron laughed handsomely, approaching you as your words trailed off. "i meant i don't want to trip over my feet. especially not with you here. it wouldn't look very good for me, i don't think."
oh? "oh."
"but go on." aaron teased, his lips pulling into a smirk as his eyes met yours, dropping for a moment. he was studying you this time around - the light sweat coating your skin, and not very subtly staring at your lips. his breath picked up again, his gaze returning to yours. you also realized, he was dangerously close. "i looked...?"
you swallowed, blinking up at him and managing a soft, "what?"
"i saw you staring. now c'mon, don't start something you can't finish, sweetheart."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x you
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Hiiiii I love your writing!! May I request Azriel x Reader, where reader gets amnesia. She’s Illyrian and was hurt by Illyrian men, so she’s scared of Az because she doesn’t remember him. Then wonderful angst because he never thought she’d be afraid of him, so he avoids her and is heartbroken. Then something happens, maybe he’s forced to interact with her or he says something specific, and her memories come back, so happy ending! Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to write this, thank you!💙
Hi lovely! Thank you so much for reading my work and for your request! I hope you like the story! 💙
Divider is once again from @tsunami-of-tears, eternally grateful to you for your creativity!
Dazelroot Daze
An Azriel x Reader imagine
Warnings: angst, poisoning, swearing, allusions to abuse / previous SA.
"Rhys, I am not cut out for this kind of mission - why did you not send Nesta!"
You huff to yourself as you climb the uneven stairs through the prison, following closely behind Rhys. You hated coming in here, and hated having to interact with the Bone Carver even more. You patted your back pocket, checking your gifted bone for him was still there, before climbing yet another stairwell.
"Y/n, you know I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't necessary. I can't exactly send Nesta in here even if she's only early in her pregnancy, they would sense it a mile off and she'd be a target. Not to mention, I don't fancy getting pummelled by Cassian for letting his pregnant mate in here".
You knew he was right, but it didn't make this any easier. You struggled through another narrow doorframe, trying to avoid smacking your wings against the wood, and stood in front of a metal gate. You hear Rhys hum to himself.
"What's wrong?".
"I've never seen a gate here before, this should be an open walkway".
You begin to feel uneasy as you see Rhys take a step back.
"Rhys?"
Before you can get another word out, you feel a powder cover your face, filling your nose and mouth, causing you to choke. You try to call out for help, but you can't get anything out, breathing becoming harder and harder. You hear Rhys distantly calling your name but you can't respond, can't move, all you can do is drop to the floor, your legs giving out from underneath you.
"Get Madja, now!"
Rhys' voice bellowed through the River House as he winnowed in carrying your lifeless body and placed your down on the living room sofa. The rest of the Inner Circle descended on the pair of you, including Azriel. When he saw your pale body, arm hanging off the sofa, his heart sank. He grabbed Rhys by the collar.
"What the fuck happened?"
Rhys didn't have time to answer before Madja appeared in the room, pushing everyone to the side and leaning over your body. Silence descended on the room as she ran tests, took bloods, checked your vitals - all the while your eyes remained closed and your body limp.
"She has been poisoned with a plant known as Dazelroot. It is highly toxic and can only be found in some very remote parts of the Spring Court. Thankfully, it looks like this particular strain was either incorrectly handled or extremely dried out, as it hasn't taken hold quite as potently as it should have. She will be ok, in that she will live, but we won't know the consequences until she wakes up".
"The consequences?", Feyre asks.
"I have never seen a person be poisoned with Dazelroot and live to tell the tale. We won't know what it will do to her until she wakes".
Feyre sobbed silently, her shoulders shaking. Nesta joined her, the sisters holding each other through their sadness. Cassian could only watch in horror as Azriel fell to his knees next to your body and cried into your shoulder.
"Madja, what can we do?", Rhys asks, wringing his hands.
"There's nothing, Rhys. We have to let her wake, and see what happens next. I'll be on hand, as will my assistants. Call us as soon as she wakes up".
Rhys shook Madja's hand and allowed her to leave, his grief weighing down on his shoulders heavily. It was his fault that you were in the prison, that he hadn't seen the trap beforehand, that you were the one to be poisoned. He tried to reach for Azriel, but Azriel swatted his hand away.
"Don't touch me", he gritted, his face still buried in your shoulder.
Rhys could do nothing but watch as his family fell apart in front of him.
It took 6 days for you to wake. 6 agonising days of your family watching your chest rise and fall, terrified that you would never again open your eyes. But you did.
Your eyes opened, and fell on Feyre's face.
"SHE'S AWAKE", Feyre called to your family, reaching out for your hand. You let her take it, but she couldn't overlook the confusion she saw in your eyes, the hesitancy of your body to let her touch you.
The room filled with your family and your eyes settled on a pair of Illyrian wings. Male Illyrian wings. Trauma racked through your body, memories of your life at the Illyrian camps, wing-clipping, assault, and you couldn't hold back your scream as you pulled your body up the bed, as close as you could get to the headboard.
"Y/n?", Azriel said gently, attempting to approach you. He froze when he realised it was him that you were trying to get away from.
Madja burst through the door at that moment, having been summoned by Rhys the moment he heard Feyre's shouts. She saw the blankness in your eyes the second she looked at you, and her eyes fell pityingly to Azriel.
"Hi y/n, I'm Madja, a healer here in the Night Court".
Your family looked at each other in pure confusion. You knew who Madja was. She'd been the family's healer for centuries. Why was she acting like you'd never met before?
Madja carried out her assessment before providing you a sleeping tonic. Once your body settled back into the pillows, looking more at peace than you had when you had woken up, she turned to Rhys.
"The Dazelroot has caused amnesia. She doesn't remember anything after her life after the Illyrian camps".
Rhys shook his head. "Ok, but when will her memory come back?".
Rhys saw the look on Madja's face and his stomach somersaulted.
"Will her memory come back?"
Madja placed a hand gentle on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry Rhys, there's no way to know".
She turned to Azriel, tears falling down his cheeks. He had realised that you had forgotten him, forgotten your mateship, the love you had shared for centuries. You only remembered the trauma you had faced at the hands of Illyrian males, males that bore the same wings as him. He had realised, seeing the look on your face, that you were afraid of him.
"You can try to offer her gentle reminders. It might break through the amnesia cloud. But there's nothing more we can do".
Madja departed, leaving your family to process the news. You didn't remember any of them.
17 months later
It had been 17 months since the incident, and your memory hadn't come back.
Feyre, Nesta, Elain and Mor had made it their mission to rebuild the friendship that you had had with them - regularly taking you out for brunch, shopping, and nights out at Rita's. Over time, you developed a new bond with them, and had started to trust them.
You had also re-kindled your friendship with Rhys and Lucien, the males giving you distance but engaging with you as often as possible, mostly through Feyre and Elain.
But Azriel and Cassian, you couldn't be near. Their wings reminded you too much of the trauma you had faced in the camps. Reminded you that your own wings had been clipped. Reminded you of the males that had used you for their own entertainment. Anytime they tried to approach you, their wings pinned as tightly as possible behind their backs, your body began to involuntarily shake and your eyes would fill with tears.
It had broken Azriel. He had become a shell of the former male he was. He started to withdraw from family dinners, he gave up his morning training. Azriel had slowly started to descend into a downward spiral, feeling the mating bond cold on the other end. His family had tried their best to help, but Azriel wanted for nothing but you. He locked himself in his bedroom most days and nights, seeking solitude in the shadows.
That was why, when his family decided to visit Sevenda's restaurant that evening, Azriel had ignored the inviting knock on his door. He didn't want to make it harder for you seeing him sitting at the other end of the table. He waited for the footsteps to pad away before grabbing a bottle of Whiskey from the shelf and pouring himself a generous glass.
-
Several hours later, Azriel was sat in bed with his book when he heard commotion. It sounded like crying, but it was pained. He sat up, listening out, when he heard it again - this time closer to his door. He thought everyone was out at Sevenda's, or maybe Rita's now, but there was unmistakably someone wandering through the hallway.
Azriel cracked open his door and peered out. At the end of the hallway, gripping the window pane, he saw your small frame huddled over. The scent of blood filled the air. Azriel panicked. He knew how bad your cycles were from the centuries you had spent together, that you needed help desperately, but right now he was the only one in the house with you, and you were terrified of him.
"Y/n?", he called out gently, trying not to startle you with his presence. He watched you turn slowly, your eyes wide in alarm.
"It's ok, it's just your cycle", he whispered, raising his arms to show you that he was not going to hurt you. You whimpered slightly, clutching the window pane so hard your knuckles had gone white.
"Can I help you?", he asked, not daring to move. You looked at him, his wings, your body shaking. But you knew you were helpless, not sure you could get yourself back to your bed even if you tried with all your might. So, you took a deep breath, and gave him a timid nod.
Azriel walked slowly towards you, his hands in front of him, and when he reached you he carefully put a hand forward to touch your shoulder. You shuddered, but didn't pull away.
"I'm going to take you back to your room, ok?". You could only nod as Azriel scooped you into his arms and walked you slowly back towards your room.
He placed you down carefully at your dressing table and silently walked into your bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room. Whilst the bath ran, you watched him strip the soiled sheets from your bed and replace them with fresh ones, putting a pair of your pyjamas neatly folded at the end. He then offered you his hand and guided you to the bathroom.
"Do you need some help?".
You didn't want to admit it, but you did. You could barely stand up under your own weight.
Azriel turned away from you to allow you to undress, holding a hand behind his back for guidance as you carefully lowered yourself into the bath. Once you were in, and hidden under the bubbles, you turned to look at him. At his wings. You had never known an Illyrian male to be so gentle. So calming. Even sat here alone in a bath with him in the room, you felt comfortable. You felt safe.
"Azriel?", you whispered.
"Would you like me to leave you be?" he asked, his back still turned to give you privacy.
"No".
You saw Azriel's shoulders sag slightly with relief, but he still kept his back to you.
"Please could you pass me that bottle over there, the green one?"
Azriel walked over to the counter to pick up the shampoo bottle and attempted to hand it to you behind his back, still not facing you. You giggled as he offered the bottle out to the empty end of the bath.
"It's ok, I'm hidden in the bubbles".
Azriel turned, his eyes not leaving your face, as he handed the bottle to you. You took it, pouring some into your hand, and he watched you wince as you raised your arms above your body to your hair, stretching your stomach.
"May I?", he asked quietly. You nodded, handing the bottle to him. Azriel knelt down behind your head, pouring the shampoo into his hands and massaging it into your hair. The moment his hands touched you, you felt a calming peace descend over you, and you closed your eyes to bask in it. You were about to ask him to rub it into the nape of your neck, your favourite place, when you felt his hands move there instinctively. A jolt went through your body, and Azriel jumped backwards.
"Are you ok?"
You turned to face him, his leathers covered in water, bubbles and shampoo suds, and looked down at his scarred hands. Visions flew through your mind of his hands in your hair, his hands offering to feed you grapes on your honeymoon to the Summer Court, his hands touching your body, his hands placing a ring on yours at your mating ceremony, his hands holding out your cup of coffee to you every morning - black, just how you liked it.
You reached out to take them, feeling every emotion come flooding back to you. A tug at your chest made you look up, as Azriel's filled with tears.
"My mate", you whispered.
"My mate", he replied, his head moving to rest on your forehead.
You held each other, the bath water turning cold and the bubbles melting away, allowing all your love and devotion to flow to each other through the bond. Forgotten, but never gone.
#a court of silver flames#a court of wings and ruin#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#acotar fanfiction#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar x y/n#a court of frost and starlight#azriel x reader#acotar imagine#acotar oneshot#azriel x y/n#azriel shadowsinger#acotar azriel#azriel shadowsinger x reader
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silk and rope
the long awaited ddlg harry and yn pairing has finally arrived!!!
some general disclaimers: I've never been in a relationship like this myself nor have I experimented too much with proper bdsm techniques, so there may be some things that are wrong in this!!!! I did research and tried my best to make it as accurate as possible but pls don't come for me if something isn't right ok thank yoooouuuuuu!!!!!!!
word count: 10.6k
content warnings: daddy dom and sub/little yn relationship, big ol’ daddy kink, basically just a lot of smut (bondage, overstimulation, use of toys, dirty talk, f oral, penetration), discussions of subspace and crappy sexual experiences (nothing forced), yn in little/sub space
"Y/N, I just don't think this is working out anymore."
Normally, Y/N is able to see this coming.
In the past, she's had 20/20 hindsight, predicted when whatever man she was seeing — or rather, submitting to — had finally gotten bored of her, and been able to paste a smile on her face when it finally happened. She could bite her tongue hard enough to prevent the flush that would eventually warm her entire body with embarrassment, mumble out some nonsense response ("okay, that's fine, I appreciate the time we spent together", which was usually a lie anyway), give them a halfhearted hug and let them go.
Todd, however? The world's worst dominant? She seriously can't believe that Todd of all people is ending things.
Realistically, Y/N doesn't really care that Todd isn't interested in dominating her anymore. He was shit at aftercare and only paid attention to maintaining a sexual relationship, as opposed to an emotional one, too. (Y/N's profile specifically said that she was looking for a dominant inside and outside of the bedroom.) So, when it comes down to it, it's fine that Todd is putting a stop to their rather lackluster relationship, but Y/N is unprepared.
Typically, at this point, she already has a date with another dominant lined up for 24 hours from now. She's already talking to other people, listing out her hard limits and what she's looking for, maybe even switching her photos around to change things up after being on this god forsaken website for a year and a half.
And maybe she, too, was so unsatisfied with Todd that she wasn't paying enough attention to realize the end was coming.
But with her slightly squinted eyes and half-open jaw, it must seem that she's in some sort of immediate stage of heartbreak (she's not, she's just surprised), because Todd goes to sling his arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of her head.
"It's not you, babe, it's me," he says, and it makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs, "Really, you were great. Fantastic every time. Just think I'm looking for someone a little bit more... emotionally stable, y'know?"
That's what breaks Y/N out of her trance, so she quickly rises from her couch and wordlessly opens the front door.
"Thanks. You can go now."
With furrowed eyebrows, Todd stands up, as if he was expecting her to get down on her knees and grovel at his feet, begging him to stay.
"See, this is what I'm talking about, babe— one second you're all quiet and mousey, and the next you're trying to boss me around like I'm the submissive," he feens offense as he pulls his sneakers on, "I think you should probably get your brain together before you start seeing someone else, it's a real mindfuck."
"Okay," Y/N smiles tightly, gesturing outside to the chilly evening. "See you around, Todd."
The confused expression remains on Todd's face but thankfully, he leaves without another word. Y/N lets out a deep sigh as she shuts the door behind him and locks it up. She grabs one of the leftover muffins she made at work today, plops down on the couch, and turns on the TV to find a show to fall asleep to.
. . .
If Harry's being honest, the bar is the last place he wants to be right now.
And he would be at home if he hadn't blown his friends off for the past three weeks, and Claire hadn't stopped by his desk while he was packing his things up, threatening to kidnap him if he wasn't planning on attending this evening.
He feels bad, especially because he knows he has the tendency to prioritize work over his friends, so he shoots her a tight smile and tells her to lead the way.
So now he's at their usual booth in the corner, slowly nursing a lukewarm beer that he'd ordered an hour ago when they arrived. He's halfway listening to a story Lea is telling about her shitty on-again, off-again boyfriend, occasionally suppressing the urge to yawn. He glances down at the watch on his wrist to read the time and promises himself that he'll stay another 30 minutes before ducking out.
Truthfully, he's bored, and he's tired, and his bed is calling to him in a way that's almost painful. He occupies himself by people-watching, trying to guess who's on first dates or, like him and his friends, getting together for weekly drinks. It's only then that he zeroes in on her — Y/N, that is — sitting alone at the bar top, slightly hunched over as she taps on her phone, a glass of wine in the other hand.
Harry doesn't know Y/N that well. He knows that she went to college with Naomi, who started inviting her to things around a year ago, and now she's always just around. He's unsure if she actually likes any of them besides Naomi, though — she's quiet and introverted, which Harry respects and understands, but the one-on-one conversations they've had are few and far between.
But that's why his interest is piqued in the first place. He's never witnessed her sitting alone at the bar, and a twinge of concern fires through him as he watches her. He clears his throat and turns back to the table, unintentionally cutting Lea off.
"Is Y/N okay?" he asks, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the bar.
"What? I didn't even know she was here," Lea says as she peers over with a shrug, "Seems fine to me."
She continues on with her story and Harry rolls his eyes, grabbing his pint and striding over to where Y/N is sitting. He props himself up on the stool next to her and waves the bartender down, pointing to his glass.
"Hey, Y/N," Harry greets easily as his glass gets refilled. She looks up from her phone and immediately locks it, as if he's tearing her from some deep thinking, surprised that anyone would come to bother her in a busy pub. "How are you?"
With slightly parted lips, she looks a bit bewildered. "Um... I'm fine. How are you, Harry?"
He swallows, glancing down at the half-full glass of white wine she's drinking. He's never actually seen her drunk, despite near-weekly meetups at this pub. She seems tipsy, not fully under water, though decently buzzed.
"I'm good, thanks," he forces a smile onto his lips as an effort to seem as though he's not concerned for her wellbeing. "I saw you over here and realized I didn't even say hi to you."
Y/N shrugs. "I didn't really feel like socializing tonight. Naomi kind of dragged me here."
"Ah, Claire did the same to me," Harry replies understandingly, nodding his head, "Said she'd kidnap me if I didn't come out."
She scoffs at that before tilting the glass back towards her lips, taking another hearty gulp. He doesn't miss the thin wince she makes as the liquid touches her tongue, swallowing it down quickly.
"Is it 'cos you got broken up with, too?"
Harry's eyes widen at her question, but she's already looked past him, zoning out with a bleary look.
"Oh... I'm sorry, Y/N. Do you want to talk about it?"
He's not great at emotional conversations, especially with people he barely knows, but he supposes it's a decent explanation for why she's in this state. He's content with lending a shoulder to cry on, he decides, because he doubts Naomi had done the same.
"It wasn't really a breakup, it's fine," she mutters with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We weren't dating, is what I mean."
Although she attempts at some sort of explanation, Harry's still confused, but he nods as if he understands.
"Was it like a friends with benefits situation?" he guesses, and she shrugs noncommittally.
"Kind of."
"So it was complicated, then," Harry murmurs. He gets that — he's been there a thousand times over, and he understands the pain associated with those types of situations.
"It wasn't," she shakes her head, and now Harry knows she's just spewing out drunken nonsense, "He was my... dominant. Or tried to be. He was really fucking shitty at it."
Dominant?
The familiar word echoes through the chambers of Harry's mind. He's certainly not unacquainted with dominant and submissive dynamics, but he's shocked — more than, really — that Y/N refers to a typically taboo word in such a casual way. He chalks it up to the alcohol, but he's still surprised that Y/N even had a dominant to begin with.
"I met him on one of those stupid seeking arrangements websites, which honestly never produces good results," Y/N continues, making Harry's eyes widen even more. He's sure that she would never reveal this information to any of their mutual friends, let alone him of all people. "Every dom I've had from there has been... whatever. But he was particularly awful, and he just ended things out of nowhere. Normally I like to have someone else lined up, but... yeah."
Even in her alcohol-fueled state, Y/N realizes that she's rambling, providing far too many personal details to Harry, who she rarely talks to. She knows she'll be ridiculously embarrassed by the entire evening as soon as the wine drunk haze wears off, but for now, Harry's on the receiving end of her secrets.
Harry clears his throat and straightens his posture, sitting up a little taller. "Well, you said it yourself. Those sites are shitty, the dominants on there are usually just looking to experiment for the first time and they don't know what they're doing. The local BDSM community is your best bet... clubs and gatherings and such."
Y/N wrinkles her eyebrows and peers at Harry beside her. He's looking straight ahead and nibbling on his bottom lip, his hand firmly grasped around his glass. She doesn't know much about Harry besides the fact that he works at some large company with a relatively well-off position. He's gorgeous, of course, and has flings with people here and there but otherwise, her knowledge of what him is... well, almost non-existent.
It wasn't totally impossible — the likelihood that Harry, like Y/N, was involved in similar sexual dynamics. She wouldn't classify herself as part of the BDSM community, but perhaps it was because she'd never dove headfirst into learning about it outside of what she's interested in. She felt that what she looked for in a dominant was rather... specific.
"Do you... are you...?" Y/N doesn't quite know how to phrase the question, "are you a dom?" without sounding like a total creep, so she allows him to fill in the blanks. His throat bobs as he takes a sip of his beer, shrugging his shoulders tersely.
"Yeah," he finally answers. "Not very consistently, I guess, but I'll take on a sub a few times year. Usually for a few months."
She nods slowly, squinting her eyes a bit as she tries to picture it. She's not sure what type of dominant Harry is — whether he's sweet and soft, or tough and enjoys pushing his subs to their limit each and every time — but regardless, the mere thought of it is enough to make her squeeze her thighs.
"What about you?" he asks, shifting his position to face her. "It sounds like you go through doms kind of... quickly."
Y/N hums, "Kind of, I guess. I think I have kind of... like, particular needs, and not everyone is interested in it."
It's the most they've ever spoken to one another, and Harry doesn't even think before he's asking her what exactly she looks for in a dominant. He's immediately embarrassed — he doesn't know what made him question her so openly, but he can't help his curiosity.
She waves his slight exasperation off, clearly not offended by his press for details.
"Can I just ask that you don't tell anyone?" Y/N says, looking at the man sitting next to her. "It's like, a little embarrassing, and I've never told our friends about it. Not even Naomi."
"Of course," Harry quips. He's always been good at keeping those types of things under wraps — he didn't believe anyone had anything to gain by learning about someone's sexual interests.
"I... I guess I have some trauma stemming from childhood that I've worked through in recent years. It's not important to this, but I tend to look for dominants who fulfill more of a caretaker role. I like to be... taken care of. In certain ways."
Her cheeks flush as the words leave her mouth as he listens to her closely. He's not sure if he's reading between the lines, looking too far into her explanation, but he gets it. He thinks.
"So... a daddy dom?" Harry asks softly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and nods curtly.
"That's nothing to be embarrassed about," he murmurs once he receives confirmation, "A lot of people like that type of relationship. I can understand why you'd be interested in it, especially if you have trauma."
She shrugs. "A lot of people think it's weird, too."
"Sure, but those aren't the people you should be seeking relationships out with," Harry replies easily, "What do you look for specifically? I'm sure we could find someone for you in the community."
Y/N lets a deep breath out, rolling her neck to each of her shoulders. She can't believe they're having this conversation in public, but she'd be lying if she said Harry wasn't easy to talk to. Plus, at the night went on, more people filed out of the bar considering it was a weekday.
"It's not necessarily age play I'm after, which I think a lot of people think is what I want," she explains, "Just like... a caregiver, I guess, that's there for me both in and out of the bedroom. I, um... on bad days, fall into a... headspace, and it's very difficult to navigate that on my own. If that makes sense."
"Makes perfect sense," Harry nods. "Are you looking for punishments and such?"
"Yeah." she breathes, nibbling at her lip as she crosses her legs, attempting to mitigate the dull throbbing in her core.
"Y/N, do you have my number?"
She swallows as she peers up at him through her eyelashes, shaking her head. He puts his hand out and she grabs her phone, placing it in his palm. He taps at the screen and she assumes he's putting his information in her contacts.
"Claire drove me here so I can't give you a ride home, but I'm gonna order you an Uber so you can head home," he murmurs lowly, handing her phone back to her. "Text me tomorrow. Can we get together after work?"
Y/N nods with slightly rounded eyes, making him smile gently. He realizes she must be more depraved than he thought if she's already slipping into her little space from an act as simple from that.
"Keep it together 'til you get home," Harry says with a quirked eyebrow, though embarrassment quickly washes over Y/N's body. He chuckles as she blushes, patting her thigh lightly. "I'll walk you out."
She grabs her bag and follows him out of the bar, welcoming the autumnal chill as it pimples her skin.
"Are you gonna slip on the way back?"
Y/N looks up to see Harry towering over her, a concerned expression on his face.
"N-no. I'm fine."
He continues analyzing her for a moment or two more before he finally nods once. "Okay. If you feel yourself getting there, call me."
"I won't. I promise."
Harry hums as a black sedan rolls up to the curb. He checks to make sure it's the correct license plate before guiding her to the car and holding the door open for her. She gets in the backseat and he nods at the driver, murmuring down at her, "seatbelt on."
She complies readily and he smiles, patting her head softly. "Message me when you get home. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay. Thank you, Harry."
20 minutes later when he receives a text from her stating that she's made it home safely, he already knows he'll do anything to be her dominant.
. . .
Harry half expects Y/N to pretend like last night ever happened.
He would understand it if she did. She was tipsy, revealing intimate details about her sexual preferences pertaining to BDSM. No one else from their friend group knew. It just ended up coming out for both of them — Harry doesn't parade his dominant role in the bedroom all around town, but if someone he knows asks, he's happy to admit to it and talk more about it. He's not ashamed by any means, but he can tell that Y/N is. She prefaced her explanation by stating that she has trauma — and really, who doesn't? — and hinted that dominants in the past have found her requests to be weird.
Harry doesn't think the whole daddy dom thing is strange. He understands it, especially pertaining to a psychological, healing level. He's never engaged in that sort of dynamic before, typically sticking to scratching the itch his submissives usually had, whether it be getting tossed around a little, orgasm denial, or being tied up. He was happy to do what made them happy, but he usually kept it in the bedroom.
The thought of taking up a caregiver role in Y/N's life made his spine tingle.
He's always been interested in her — not even in a romantic or sexual way, he's always just found her fascinating. She's quiet and shy, beautiful, and the definition of a wallflower. Naomi brought her in one day and she just never left. It's been a year since then and Harry doesn't think she's spoken more than 15 words to the others.
And so, with all of this knowledge under his belt, he spends his day at work worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and constantly unlocking his phone. When he gets home that evening, narrowly avoiding Claire's proposal at more social interaction, he's lost all hope, even though he did tell her to text him when she was finished with work. He's properly pouting as he sits on his couch, knees to his chest, when his phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him.
From: Y/N Y/L/N
hey harry:) first of all, im so sorry about last night. i was clearly having a tough day and i definitely took advantage of u being willing to chat with me, so im sorry if i revealed too much or took you away from everyone else.. i know u don't go out often and im really sorry if i ruined it
im also not sure if you still have interest in what we talked about last night w helping me find someone... its totally ok if you've changed ur mind or you were just drunk or whatever. again, i know i was being a lot so no worries!! sorry! just lmk :)
Harry's heart squeezes as he reads over her repeated apologies. In two texts, she said variations of "I'm sorry" four times. She thought she had ruined his night in some way when it was the complete opposite.
His thumbs hover over the screen as he thinks of a response. He's over the moon that she still decided to text him and that she'd avoiding the path of pretending nothing happened. In all honesty, he's unsure if he could live with himself when he had all those images and thoughts of her in his head, knowing that they'd just moved on from it.
Hey Y/N. Please don't apologize for last night, I had a really nice time talking to you. I'm definitely still interested. Are you available tonight?
She's quick in her reply, which makes him smile. He can imagine the way she's probably alternating between biting her lip and picking at the skin around her fingernails, both of which he assumed were nervous habits that he picked up on last night.
ok if you say so.. and yes im free! i was planning on ordering some takeout if ur interested, i don't really have any food here that isn't a baked good lol
Harry chuckles at that. Claire mentioned once that Y/N works at the bakery close to the park he does his morning jogs through. When he passes by at early sunrise, the windows are often illuminated with a warm glow, and he wonders if it's coming from her.
That's okay, I was planning on cooking if you'd like me to bring you some. I have ingredients for a stir fry. Would that be okay?
She replies with what he can only describe as a bashful but affirmative answer (only if you're sure!! but that sounds great!) and sends a second message with her address. He's beaming as he chops up vegetables and sautes them up rice noodles and homemade peanut sauce, indulging in the simple act of cooking for Y/N.
Last night, after he'd gotten home from the bar, he'd done some research on daddy dom relationships. He knew of them, but if he was going to offer being Y/N's, he wanted to ensure that he was knowledgable on anything she could want. He learned that there were many different facets of that type of dynamic, some of which he was comfortable with and some of which he wasn't. Like any other dominant and submissive relationship, hard and soft limits would be discussed, but this one, Harry realized, wouldn't just consist of kinks he had no interest in engaging in.
As he spoons the finished stir fry into a plastic container to take to Y/N's, his stomach brews with butterflies. He's never expressed interest in dominating someone he already knows in real life. Those relationships existed purely in the confides of the bedroom. It's a commitment, he understands, to engage in such an agreement with her.
So why isn't he scared?
. . .
"This is delicious, Harry," Y/N all but moans over her serving of stir fry, chopsticks in hand. He smiles before biting into a piece of broccoli coated in peanut sauce.
"I'm glad you like it. It's a go-to dish for me, especially on weekdays when I'm exhausted from work."
She hums, nodding thoughtfully as she chews. A temporary silence takes over as they eat, ended by Harry eventually clearing his throat and gently placing his bowl on the table.
"So, about finding you a dom," he says, and her eyes perk up slightly, as if she's an over-excited puppy. "I have a proposition."
"Oh, you found someone already?"
"Sort of," Harry answers vaguely, "I think— well, no, I know. I would be interested in taking that place."
Y/N raises her eyebrows. She sets her own bowl of food on the table and purses her lips as she chews the rest of the contents in her mouth.
"I don't think you want that." she says gently.
"Why?" he shoots back, a near immediate response, "I spent all night and day thinking about it. I do."
Y/N sighs, "Because it's more than just spanking me when I have an attitude with you or cooking me a meal. I can be a lot, Harry, and it's the reason why I've gone through so many dominants already."
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you go through so many because they're the problem?" Harry asks. "You lay it all out on the table, right? You tell them exactly what you're looking for. Everything you told me last night."
She nods.
"And they still agree. You tell them you want a dominant outside of the bedroom, too, that the 'daddy' role you're looking for is a caretaker," Harry continues, "So how does that make you the issue?"
"Because what I'm looking for is... unconventional," she fights back, convinced in her stance. "Guys think the whole daddy thing is hot until... until I actually need them."
"It's not unconventional, Y/N. I did a ton of research last night. There are a million sites explaining what a DDLG relationship is and what it can consist of. The things that go into it on both sides, but especially on the dominant's. I'm not saying I know everything about being one, but I've at least cared to learn."
Y/N sighs and rolls her lips into mouth. She'll admit, she's impressed. She's not sure any guy she's ever been with has done that.
"So... what would you want, then?" Y/N asks, her voice softened.
"Well, I definitely have limits, but it's mainly dependent on what you're interested in," Harry explains. She finds that he's far too nonchalant for his own good, and the casual nature of his tone makes her even more nervous.
"If you did some research then I'm sure you learned about the extents it can go to," she says thoughtfully and he nods, resting his chin in his palm, "I don't have a desire for the more extreme things. Diapers and pacifiers and all that."
"Okay."
She's taken aback by his lack of response — part of her expected some sort of "oh, thank god" — but she's starting to wonder if Harry just simply exists in a nonjudgmental space. One that she's very much not used to.
"I just want someone to take care of me," she eventually forced out, setting her gaze on her bare thighs, a pair of lavender sweatshorts hung around her hips. "I can be bratty both in bed and out. I like to be put in my place. I enjoy being teased and humiliated. I like punishments and being pushed to my limits, even if I give you a hard time about it. I've been described as a handful when I'm feeling... little."
Harry had read a decent amount about "little space" last night. He'd dominated some partners to the point of falling into subspace, but little space seemed to differ. With his base knowledge on submission, he was able to tell that she was slipping into hers last night, giving him the inkling that making decisions for her and taking away the guess work was something she liked.
"I'm sure you're not, but all of those things are fine by me," Harry replies easily, "What do you like when you're feeling little?"
"It depends on what put me there. If I had a bad day at work, I like a bath and you cooking for me... I get really touchy. If it happens from a sexual scenario, it can be quite difficult to pull me out. But I get really quiet... I'll be more pliable, allow you to throw me around. I'll usually cry, but if you're doing things correctly, they won't be bad tears. Just from overwhelm."
"What sexual scenarios put you there?"
She clears her throat, her tongue thick in her mouth. Thinking about these things is enough to make her slip, but she won't disclose that. At least not right now.
"A number of things... edging or orgasm denial, being tied up and gagged. Anal since it requires trust and prepping. Any type of punishment, but especially spanking."
Harry's nodding his head as she speaks, apparent that he's processing everything she's telling him. He's not surprised by anything, per se, considering he's open to different experiences and nothing seems undoable. It's as if he's making a mental list, adding a separate section to his brain with Y/N's name plastered over it, filing away the information.
"What about when you're not feeling little?" Harry proceeds with little befuddlement, "What does the ideal dominant look like for you then?"
"Um... still just loving and caring. I likely won't be as bratty. More... in control of myself, I suppose," Y/N murmurs in reflection. "I would still like to have scenes with you when I'm not in that headspace, if that's alright. I'm not sure if it would be crossing a boundary."
"Of course." he answers readily without a blink of doubt, "When I embark on a dominant and submissive relationship, I don't like to half-ass it. I don't think there's a point in only asking for me when you need me. You'll never find comfort in me when you're feeling small."
Her heart warms at that, flutters in her tummy making it difficult to hide the smile curling at her lips. She assumes that she should've guessed Harry would be good at this type of thing; she's witnessed how deeply he cares for people. Even when they barely knew each other, he always greeted Y/N like they'd known one another for years, asking about her job at the bakery (she doesn't even remember if she told him he worked at one) and what sweets they were creating nowadays.
She thinks Harry just has a way of making people feel special.
It's what makes her core tingle, squeezing her thighs together for a semblance of relief as she rolls her lips into her mouth. She can feel herself starting to dampen in her underwear and she glances down at Harry's lower half, peeking through her eyelashes to see if he has a growing bulge.
"Do you think we can do a scene tonight, maybe?" Y/N asks softly, glancing back up at his eyes.
Harry chuckles. "I take it you think I'd be a good fit for you then."
"Mhm."
"You're cute," he smirks and pinches her thigh lightly, "No scenes tonight though. I can come over tomorrow, but I want to properly feed you and make sure you're hydrated before we do anything."
Y/N nods as she nibbles on her bottom lip. If she's being honest, she wants nothing more than to crawl into Harry's lap, parting her thighs and grinding into him while he babbles dirty words into her ear. She's always found him attractive, but knowing that he's willing to cater to her own sexual desires lights a fire deep in her stomach.
"I'm gonna head home, but I'm looking forward to getting started with you," Harry says with a small smile, "Oh, one more thing — no touching yourself tonight."
Her eyes widen as he stands from the couch, ready to grovel; they haven't even begun doing anything yet and he's already telling her what to do—
"Y/N," Harry growls, reaching up to grab her face. He squishes her cheeks together and her pupils broaden, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. "Nod if you understand."
She nods.
"Good girl. I'll text you when I'm coming over tomorrow. I'll bring you dinner again."
Again, she nods.
"Say 'thank you', Y/N."
"Thank you, daddy."
Harry's lips curl into a smirk, releasing his grasp. "Oh, we're gonna have fun together."
. . .
The next day, Y/N can't stop squirming.
It's to the point where her co-workers notice that she's jumpier than normal, clumsy in her icing and piping when she's normally spot-on and nearly perfect in her efforts. She hears from Harry a few times throughout the day — he texts her in the morning and during his lunch break, checking in to see how she's doing, and it makes her entire body swarm with butterflies. He asks if she's eating a proper lunch (she's not), scolds her for it (which she secretly enjoys), and then tells her he'll make her something for her to take to work tomorrow.
Thankfully, she doesn't have a closing shift today, so she's done at a little past 6 pm. It's to her surprise, though, when she's peeling off her flour-coated apron, she spots Harry standing outside the bakery, a cozy cardigan and a graphic t-shirt covering his body.
Y/N has to do a double take. He didn't say anything about meeting her at work this evening, but he has to be here for her, doesn't he?
After sliding her jacket on and grabbing her tote bag, she exits the bakery, closing the glass door behind her gingerly. Harry turns, his eyes lighting up when he sees her.
"Hey," he greets with a grin, "Have a good day at work?"
"Um, yeah, it was alright. Sorry, did we say you would pick me up? I must've forgotten—"
"Oh, no," Harry shakes his head as he jerks his head in the direction of his car, reaching out to slide her bag off of her shoulder. He takes it into his hand, his fingers wrapping around the canvas strap as she shuffles to keep up. "I finished making dinner a little early, figured I'd meet you here. Is that alright?"
"Yeah. Yeah, that's really nice of you, thank you."
Harry hums as they approach his car. He unlocks the doors and they both get in, but he leans over before she has a chance to buckle herself up, clicking her seatbelt in. It's a small act that makes the butterflies return, but she doesn't comment on it as he starts the engine and begins the short drive back to hers.
"I made us some veggie pasta for dinner tonight. Does that sound good?"
"Delicious," Y/N replies honestly as she watches blurs of warm-toned leaves go by. "Thank you again."
A soft smile appears on his lips as he pulls onto her road. "Of course. How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright. A little tired. Nervous, to be honest."
Harry chuckles and briefly glances over at her, "Yeah? Nothing to be nervous about. We'll take it slow."
She shuffles in her seat and wedges her hands between her thighs. "Just don't want you to judge me, is all."
"I won't, but we did manage to forget to have the conversation on hard sexual limits. Do you mind listing yours?"
She nods. She's done this dance enough times to know the importance of discussing this subject matter, though she doubts there's much Harry could do that wouldn't be a turn-on for her.
"Um, any bathroom things, fisting, foot stuff... I'm fine with anal as long as we agree upon doing it beforehand. And if you're going to inflict physical pain on me, that's fine, but I'd prefer it if we built up to it — so, like, starting with spanking then the belt or a paddle."
"Sure, that makes perfect sense. I like to have conversations with my subs after we do a scene, so we can see how you feel about what we did," he pulls into a parking spot outside of her home, yanking the key from the ignition, "And, just so you know — no anal tonight and no spanking unless you deserve it."
He taps her cheek gently with his spare hand and she flushes as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. She follows him up to her front door and fishes her keys from the pocket of her jacket, unlocking it and stepping inside.
"Are y'alright with the traffic light system?" Harry questions as he sets her bag down on the slim table placed in the entryway.
"Yeah. My safe word is yarn, just FYI."
He wrinkles his eyebrows and pulls a few to-go containers out from his own bag. He opens his mouth to question her but she puts her hand up to stop him.
"I like to crochet. Don't make fun of me for it."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry murmurs, traipsing in the direction of her kitchen, "Go change out of your work clothes and put something pretty on for me, angel girl."
She's happy to comply, immediately feeling giddy at Harry telling her what to do from the get-go. When she gets upstairs and to her bedroom, she meanders over to the drawer she has for evenings like this. It's filled with lacy bodysuits and ruffly underwear, knee high socks, and pastel lingerie. Eager to rid her body of the jeans and sweater she wore all day, she opts for a sheer pink bralette and matching shorts that barely cover her bum. It's a sweet set that she personally likes, but she can't help the slight worry that Harry won't enjoy it as much as she does.
She's already meandering into her little headspace as she heads back downstairs. Harry's already plated up their dinner, complete with small servings of a side salad. He looks up as soon as he hears her soft padding across the length of the living room, his jaw falling slack at her appearance.
"Look at you," he coos, standing from the couch and closing the distance between them, "You look beautiful."
Y/N licks her lips, keeping her gaze low. She feels herself slipping, but for once, she's not scared of letting it happen.
"What's wrong, little one?" Harry asks gently, pressing his pointer finger and thumb to her chin, raising her head, "Are you feeling small already?"
She nods, her eyes round.
"Mm, that was quick. Just from daddy taking care of you and putting on these pretty little clothes, huh?"
Again, she nods.
"Alright. Let's get some food in your belly and then daddy can play with you a bit?"
This time, she shakes her head.
"No? No scene tonight?" Harry guesses through furrowed brows.
"Wanna play now, please."
"Ahhhh," he nods, understanding now that she's looking to skip out on dinner. "Gotta eat first, baby. Then we'll play."
Y/N pouts and he chuckles, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and tugging her towards the couch.
"C'mon. You can sit in my lap, hm?"
Still in the trousers he wore to work today, Harry settles back against the couch. He pulls her body into his, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady.
"Is this good?" he asks softly, catching the shell of her ear.
"Yes." she peeps, nibbling on her lip.
"Alright baby, grab your food for me. Gotta eat at least half before we do anything."
Wringing her hands in her lap, Y/N doesn't move. Harry runs his fingertips along the length of her arm, nosing at her shoulder.
"Would you... daddy, I..."
Her voice trails off and his heart squeezes, eager to coax whatever she's trying to say out of her.
"Ask, honey. Use your words." he encourages tenderly.
She forces the words out, even if they feel humiliating despite her clouded head. "Can you feed me, please?"
Harry hums. He won't say it in the moment because he can tell the request was difficult to muster out, but his entire body feels infinitely softer. He leans forward to grab her serving, scooping some pasta on the fork.
"Y'gonna be good and eat for me now?"
She nods, "I will. Thank you, daddy."
He murmurs out a you're welcome, continuing the quiet pattern of feeding her, watching her chew and swallow, and going back for more. He doesn't let her get off without eating a few bites of salad, chuckling gently at her quiet protests.
"Still feeling good?" Harry asks, setting her empty bowl back on the coffee table.
"Mhm. Playtime now?"
He smiles and nods, carefully shimmying her body off his lap. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for me? Daddy needs to eat too."
Y/N shakes her head and sinks to the carpet, pressing her chin to his knee. "Wanna be close, please."
"Yeah?" Harry chuckles, grabbing his own bowl of pasta, "Okay, baby, you can sit there but no touching. I know you're nearly gagging for my cock."
He watches as she shivers, nibbling on her bottom lip and shifting her position slightly so her cheek is smushed against his thigh. He laughs quietly and threads his fingers through her hair, quickly eating his own portion. He can't deny that he's just as excited to get started — he, too, has been thinking about this all day, deciding what positions he'd fold her body into, if he'd edge her or overstimulate her with orgasm upon orgasm. He didn't want to fully push her limits so quickly — he wanted to create a foundation of trust between each other, but he couldn't help the inevitable daydreams that clouded his day.
He finishes his food quickly, tapping her head playfully to alert her that he's done. She lifts her head and he takes in her moony gaze, his heart thumping quickly in his chest at how sweet she looks.
"Upstairs, bunny. Hands and knees, bum in the air, okay?" He plucks at her bottom lip as he grants her guidance, her eyes fluttering shut, relieved to finally be getting instructions. She scurries up to her bedroom, listening to Harry putter around as he places their dirty dishes in the sink. As he asks, she lets her knees meld into the foamy texture of the mattress. With her cheek pressed against the pillow, she folds her legs and maneuvers her lower half into his requested position.
It feels like an eternity before Y/N hears Harry enter the room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn't move to remove any of his clothes, instead kneeling onto the bed behind her.
"You've been doing so good for daddy, haven't you, baby?"
She knows it's a rhetorical question but she nods into the plushy pillow, wiggling her butt. He chuckles and allows his palms to roam the expanse of her skin, from the bottoms of her thighs up to the swell of her ass. She keens at the feel of his touch, already obsessed with the way his large hands fit over her body.
"We won't be doing too much tonight, but I'll be asking for your color consistently. I want you to use your safe word at any point you deem necessary. Is that clear?"
Y/N nods her head and hums, though her answer is slightly muffled by the fluff of the pillow.
He continues rubbing slow circles into the globes of her ass, intent on getting her to feel as relaxed as possible. He can tell she's excited — he is, too — but above anything, he wants her to be calm.
"I brought some toys and things for us to play with," Harry continues, her ears perking up, "Can you tell me your color for each of them? It's perfectly okay if it changes at some point. I'd just like an idea of what you want."
Y/N has never had someone care this much — every time a dominant brought a toy to a session, he'd thrown it in there haphazardly. A vibrator turned up way too high, terribly knitted rope and, the worst by far, a butt plug that wasn't lubed whatsoever.
So she's keening over the care Harry puts into his role, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as he shuffles off the bed for a moment and slings the tote bag onto the comforter. She still can't see a thing that he's doing, but as she floats into a comfortable cloudy mindset, she becomes more and more content with letting him make the rules.
"Okay, baby. Know you want daddy to make the decisions but I need you to be good for me and tell me what you're comfortable with," Harry murmurs, his fingertips dancing along the soft material of her waistband. He doesn't dip below or tug them down; it more so feels like a reminder of what can come if she's good. "Tying your wrists with silk ties. Color?"
Her pussy pulsates at the immediate vision of her arms tied high above her head, unable to touch herself or him. "Mm. Green."
"And what about your legs? Are you okay with rope, or would you prefer silk down there, too?"
"Either one, daddy. Green for both."
Harry hums, dipping down to slowly press light kisses down the length of her spine. She shivers at the sensation of his soft lips making contact with her skin for the first time. "A vibrator for your cute little pussy?"
"Green," she whimpers as his hands find purchase on her hips.
"Can daddy use his mouth on you?" he asks, the low vibrations of his voice making her core leak with arousal. "On your pussy?"
"Yes, yes," Y/N nearly pleads, bucking her hips up against his grasp. He tuts softly, and she can imagine the way his tongue flicks up against his two front bunny teeth, a look of disappointment painted over his face.
"Be patient, bunny. Don't need you squirming around just 'cos you wanna be touched."
She wants to groan out when he removes his hands from her skin but resists the urge, especially because he just told her to be patient (something Y/N has never been good at). She feels like it's a punishment in and of itself — he's barely done anything, but she can still feel the phantom kisses he placed down her back, and the skin stretching over her hips somehow feels lonely without his large palms pawing at it.
"On your back." Harry suddenly instructs. She's quick to obey, rolling over onto the plush duvet. He's fast in his movements and already kneeling above her, wrapping her wrists together and fastening a bow with pink silk. "Have you used these before? Do you know how to get out of them if you need to?"
Y/N nods. She knows that she can simply pull her wrists apart to quickly dissolve the knot, instantly freeing herself.
"Good girl. Daddy's gonna use rope for your legs, okay? Use your safe word or red if you need."
She has to admit, she's immediately impressed with Harry's apparent knowledge of bondage. She's been tied up many times before, but if she had to guess how many times someone's properly tied her hands, breasts, or legs with rope, it would likely only be once or twice.
A wet gasp leaves her mouth when she realizes Harry isn't just tying her ankles down to the bed post. Instead, he's pressing her calves into the backs of her thighs, the slight burn of the rope pressing into her flesh in the most delicious way. Although she's able to close her legs, the knots still remove most of her mobility, especially with her arms tucked above her head.
After finishing with her legs, Harry stands from the bed, still in his tee-shirt and trousers. He admires his work from above with a devilish smirk on his face, making Y/N's skin warm.
"Aren't you just a wet dream?" he mocks lightly, trailing his fingertips up and along her knee, "All tied up and absolutely useless, hm? Can't even get out of bed, can you?"
Y/N shakes her head, her bottom lip beginning to wobble at his teasing. Everything about the scene is already so intense, the build-up so delicious and consuming and— fuck, he hasn't even touched her yet.
"You just need your daddy to do everything for you, don't you?" Harry continues, kneeling into the mattress. His hands find the insides of her thighs and he pushes them apart, but his eyes don't even fall to her core, instead keeping them square on her wide-eyed gaze. "Helpless little baby, aren't you? Say it. Say your daddy's helpless baby."
"I'm— I'm daddy's helpless baby." she stammers out, her tongue heavy in her mouth.
"Are you gonna cry already, bunny?" he asks, his lips curling up into a wicked smirk, "Haven't even fuckin' done a thing and you're crying over being tied up. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Wanted daddy to make all your choices? Get all cock dumb and drunk on my cum?"
She nods futilely. She doesn't even realize the wetness pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she feels tears leaking steadily as soon as he mentions it.
"P-please daddy. Wanna be touched."
"Ah, so you do have some thoughts going on up there."
It seems like maybe that's all it takes for Harry to finally cease his mocking, digging into the tote bag at the side of the bed to produce a silicone vibrator. It's light blue and long, with a bulbous head at the tip that she assumes is for stimulating the spongey spot deep inside of her.
He finds a spot between her thighs, kneeling back on his ankles. His hands move up her inner thighs and to the creases of where her legs meet her core, the sheer fabric of her pale pink shorts immediately giving way to the wetness seeping from her hole. Harry nearly groans out at that, the sight going straight to his rock hard cock being strained by layers of clothing.
With a feather light touch, he thumbs over her clit through the material. She immediately jolts and he chuckles, moving his finger to gently stroke over her mound.
"Desperate little thing. Begging for daddy's touch."
"Yes," Y/N mewls at the top of the bed, wiggling against the rough rope, "I need it daddy, please, touch me, I've been so good—"
"Have you?" he asks, retrieving his hand, "All you've done is do as I've asked. If anything, I'm the one that should get rewarded, don't you think? Picked you up from work, fed you, tied you up... sounds like you're just being greedy to me."
"I'm not— t-that is being good, daddy, I didn't touch myself like you said a-and I've earned it, please."
She's fully crying now, tears leaking from her eyes in steadfast streams that it actually makes Harry feel bad. She hasn't even stopped her begging by the time he's pulling her shorts down to reveal her weeping pussy, a soft tsk leaving his mouth.
"Stop pleading, bunny, I'll give you want you're so desperate for," Harry says, grabbing the vibrator. He'd initially planned to work her with his fingers before pressing the toy against her clit and pushing it inside, but he hasn't even spread her open and he can already see the creamy arousal coating her lips. He thinks that if he teases her for much longer, she may just disintegrate into the bed.
So instead, because he's him and he's not a nice dom, he cranks it onto the medium setting and nudges it up against her clit. She instantly gasps out and jerks her hips up at the vibrations, a near-yell leaving her throat. He's aware that every person is different and it'll take him some time to learn her body, but with the way that her legs are already shaking as he uses more pressure to press the toy against the bundle of nerves, he thinks he he's getting somewhere.
"Are you gonna cum already?" Harry asks, his eyebrows knitted together as his eyes rake over her body. Her own eyes are scrunched up, her lips parted as small whimpers escape her throat, beads of sweat beginning to tumble down the slopes and curves of her skin — it's a sight, and he wishes to commit it to memory.
"Y-yes," she admits, nodding quickly, "Can I? Please?"
In response, he transfers the vibrator to his left hand and slowly pushes a finger into her pulsating hole.
"Go ahead."
He strokes once or twice against her g-spot with his finger before she's crumbling, her chest concave with haphazard breaths and her back arched. Moans readily fall from her lips, her pussy squeezing his finger so tight it nearly makes him cum on the spot.
As Y/N comes down from her peak, she recalls Harry saying that they weren't doing anything too crazy today, so she wonders if that's it. If so, she supposes that's fine, but she thinks she'll over him a blowie, offering to let him fuck her face while she's still tied up with silk and rope.
Instead, he cranks the vibrator up another setting and pushes a second finger inside, eliciting a broken groan from her chest.
"Again." Harry instructs, curling his fingers deep inside of her.
"O-oh," Y/N whimpers with shaking thighs and a dizzy head, "Daddy, I—"
"Again, bunny." he repeats, quickening the pace of his fingers. "I want another one. Now."
She quickly realizes that she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to reject Harry, because it only takes a few more pumps of his digits until she's squeezing him again. She's never had two orgasms so close together and she finds that this one is more intense, her muscles not even fully relaxed as they contract around him once again.
Her eyes are still closed when he removes his fingers and she thinks she hears a faint sucking noise, though she can't be sure. He lowers the vibrator setting but keeps it flush against her clit, despite the way her pussy is all but begging for a break.
"Color." Harry demands, his hand finding the backside of her knee.
"G-green," she hiccups through tear-stained cheeks, "Can keep going, daddy. Please."
He nods once, lowering so his stomach is pressed against the mattress now. He finally clicks the toy off and pushes it to the side, pausing his assault on her core before spreading her lips open with his fingers.
"Jesus, you're fuckin' pretty," he mutters, watching as her hole pulsates from two back-to-back orgasms. He spits, the saliva landing on her spread slit, making her gasp. "Who owns this pussy, bunny?"
Y/N's chest is heaving, but she still manages his honorific through wet, splotchy cheeks.
"Say it again." he commands before leaning forward to lick a fat stripe from her hole to her clit.
"It's yours, daddy." she whispers, her hands forming tight fists above her form.
"Good girl. That's what I want you to say when you cum next, okay?"
She doesn't have a chance to question yet another orgasms as his tongue makes contact with her pussy, moaning deeply. He's already obsessed with her taste and she's sure she's never had someone go down on her with this much vigor. She's gulping for air when his tongue darts in and out of her hole before licking up to her clit, lips wrapped around the nub as he sucks harshly, whines sounding from her mouth at the sensitivity.
Y/N has never understood the phrase "making out with her pussy" until this exact moment.
She doesn't even know if he's coming up for air much, but he's quick to figure out the pattern that makes her thighs shake. Messy sounds come from below as he slurps at the arousal leaking from her, using the width of his tongue to lick upwards to her clit over and over again.
"Daddy!" Y/N squeals, jerking her hips involuntarily, only to be pressing her core even closer to his mouth, "Please, I— I think—"
"Cum." he mutters into her, suckling at her clit with such fervor that Y/N genuinely thinks she may pass out.
She doesn't, though, but the intensity of her orgasm claws up her body rapidly, loud cries bubbling up her throat as she repeats clamors of, "it's yours daddy, your pussy, it's yours."
She feels him press chaste kisses against her mound as he gently begins to untie the ropes, slowly easing her legs out of their angled positions. Once they're free, he helps her stretch them outward, continuing his trail of kisses up her body until he's straddling her waist between his thighs.
"Color," Harry murmurs, reaching up to release his wrists from the silk. Her eyes are set on the bulge in his pants and he gently taps her cheek, "Bunny, tell me your color."
"Green, daddy. That looks like it hurts."
She uses her newly freed hands to point at his crotch and he chuckles, shaking his head.
"I'm fine, lovebug. Are you sure you're still green? Looking quite floaty."
"I am," Y/N lulls her head to the side, leaning it against her shoulder as she circles her wrists, "Wanna keep going though. 'm okay."
"Do you remember your safe word?" he questions, grabbing one of her wrists and pressing soft kisses into the skin.
"Mhm."
"What is it?"
"Yarn. 'cos I like to crochet."
Harry grins, relieved that she isn't too far off the deep end. He finds her to be especially adorable when she's in her little space, the moony gaze in her eyes removing any traces of stress from her day-to-day life.
"That's right, baby," he replies, pulling off his tee-shirt. "Daddy's gonna fuck you now. Is that alright?"
"Yes, please. But I don't think I wanna cum again."
He hums and nods, unbuckling his pants and kicking them off his legs, "That's perfectly fine, bunny. You got daddy so hard that I don't think it'll take much for me to cum."
Y/N giggles at that and makes grabby hands at him, making him chuckle. "Off, please," she says, pointing to the briefs straining his cock.
"You're such a polite little girl, did you know that?" Harry asks as he pushes his underwear down, settling in between her legs.
"Daddy's polite girl."
If his cock wasn't painfully hard right now, he might've laughed at her repeating his words. Unfortunately, an hour of overstimulating Y/N and watching her writhe beneath his grasp, all tied up with no choice but to just take it — he's shivering at the images of it, and he knows he needs to cum within the next five minutes or his dick will surely fall off.
"Gonna push in, okay?" Harry asks softly, rubbing circles into her hip, "Remember, tell me if you need to stop. Daddy will always listen to you."
Y/N nods her head, blinking away the leftover moisture in her eyes from her bout of cries earlier. She knows that if she didn't feel so comfortable with him, there's no way she would be this far in her little space right now, where she just wants him to take and take until he's satisfied. It's maybe happened three or four times in the past with a dom she had that was actually pretty good, but she knows now doesn't even begin to measure up with Harry.
When his cock pops through her tight walls, it's a bit of a stretch, but she's wet enough with arousal from three orgasms that it barely burns. Instead, she finds herself enjoying the way her core adapts to his shape — not to mention, he looks gorgeous above her with his eyes squeezed closed and his jaw dropped in a quiet groan.
When she doesn't safe word, Harry starts to move. He takes it slow, knowing that if he immediately starts to pump the full of his length inside of her, it may cause her more pain than pleasure, regardless of how small she's feeling. Her plushy lips part as moans begin to fall from them, hooking her ankles behind his form to bring him closer.
"You're so big, daddy," Y/N breathes out, a strangled whimper coming from Harry. "I love it, I love having you inside me."
"Yeah? My little girl wants her daddy's cock in her all the time?" He pushes through grit teeth, his jaw flexing as he begins to quicken his strokes, "Tell me, bunny. Tell me how much you want daddy."
"Oh—," she mewls as he begins to brush up against her g-spot, "I want it always daddy, I-I need it— oh, god— please daddy, please—"
"Sweet little girl sounds so pretty when she begs," He says as he takes one of his palms and presses it against her lower stomach, "This pretty pussy is mine now. You hear me? It's daddy's pussy."
"Yes, yes— fuck, it's yours daddy!"
Harry growls — actually growls — and shifts his hand down to smack against her clit, a throaty moan falling from Y/N's mouth.
"Dumb little babies don't curse," he snaps, slapping her clit once more, "Or do you wanna be punished? Not get any of daddy's cum?"
She shakes her head quickly, her eyes nearly rolling back at the sting of pain radiating through her core. "I want it, please!"
"Yeah? Beg for it, bunny."
She does — she pleads and begs and all but grovels on her hands and knees until Harry pulls out and pumps his cock over her, ropes of warm cum painting the skin of her stomach all the way up to her chest. There's so much (like an impressive amount, Y/N thinks), and she wants to scoop it up and taste it, but Harry grabs her wrist and gives her a look before she can.
"If you do that, you will have to call out of work tomorrow."
She giggles and nibbles on her bottom lip, the little headspace she's swimming in telling her to disobey him. He sighs and shakes his head, grabbing the tee-shirt he was wearing earlier and swiping it over her body, ridding her of his cum.
"You're a naughty little thing," he mumbles, tossing the tee-shirt to the floor — he makes a mental note to throw her bedding and everything in the wash once she's out of her little space. "C'mon baby, up. Gonna take a bath now."
"With you, right?" Y/N mumbles with heavy eyes. He nods as he leans down to scoop her up in his arms, guiding them to the bathroom. He sits her on the toilet and she frowns, making him roll his eyes.
"You don't want a UTI. This isn't a sex thing, just pee while I run you a bath."
She does but only because he tells her to, and she knows she'll feel embarrassed about this tomorrow, but she's okay with it right now. He busies himself with turning the water and making sure it's warm before plugging the drain.
"I brought some bubble bath and epsom salts with me but it's in my bag. Can I leave you while I go get those?"
Again, Y/N nods wordlessly and he leans down to press a kiss to her hair. She flushed and wipes while he's gone, and he returns while she's washing her hands.
Harry knows it feels oddly domestic of them to be naked and prepping to take a bath together after an intense scene, especially since this is the first time they've done this. In the back of his mind, he wonders if they should've talked through the implications of them beginning this type of relationship — a ruined friendship being one of them — and he knows it was selfish of him to forgo that conversation altogether.
He ignores his worries and instead helps her into the bubble bath once it's ready, tucking his body in behind hers as soon as she's situated. It's silent between them for the first time in hours as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, lightly massaging her shoulders.
"How are you feeling?" He finally asks after a few moments of quiet.
"Tired," she mumbles, laying back against his broad chest. He can't tell if she's still floaty by her one-word response so he continues rubbing her back, allowing her to sink into the warmth of the bath.
They don’t speak again after that, not until the water goes cold and Y/N almost falls asleep in the comfort of his arms. In the meantime, he makes sure to gently swirl a clean washcloth over her skin, using his favorite lavender scented body wash, and wash her knotty hair. All the while he whispers how special she is, how she’ll never be too much, but especially not to him. He decides it’s okay if she doesn’t hear him because she’s too out of it, but hopes that his words at least seep into her subconscious so she believes the same.
#I will proof read this when I’m not so burnt out !#writing#harry styles#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles smut#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#Harry styles angst#harry styles x you#Harry styles au#harry styles oneshot#one direction
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Math Problem - Sim Jake
Summary : When you ask your step brother Jake to help you with your math homework, you didn't expect to find yourself bouncing on his dick instead.
Pairing : Stepbro!Jake X Fem!Reader
Warnings : Jake and y/n aren't related, Smutty fluff, reader is kinda innocent but not a virgin (just inexperienced), reader's first time giving a blowjob, Jake is a flirt, dirty talk, nipple/breast play (f.receiving), grinding, making out, unprotected sex (no condom, even though you should use a condom), aftercare and fluff, some cringe at the end?
Word Count : 2,191 words
Masterlist - Tips
"Jake!" You call out, your voice echoing throughout the corridor and reaching his ears. He sighs and walks over to your room, only to find you, with your head slouched down onto your desk in frustration.
"Y/nnn what is it?" he questions playfully, nudging your shoulder and giggling at your depressed state. He assumed it was just school work that you couldn't make sense of.
"I can't solve this" you whined annoyingly, throwing your pen in frustration. You look up at him, "Maybe you can help me?" you ask in a little voice, fluttering your eyelashes at him.
"Everybody knows I'm the best at math" he brags, twitching his eyebrows up and down. He leans over your chair, his face just an inch away from yours. You can't help but admire his side profile, and the way his eyebrows furrow in thought while he tries to understand the math question. "The equation is on the book, not on my face" He laughs, after he noticed you staring at him.
Your face flushes at his words and you look at the textbook in front of you, avoiding his gaze. But now, there was no way you were going to focus, when you have his face so close to your flushed one.
"geez why don't you have another chair in here? I'm getting tired standing up" He says dramatically, placing his hands on his hips and pretending to stretch.
"You can sit on my chair" You offer gingerly. You stand up, straightening your skirt down and he can't help but take a look at your ass while you're facing the other way. He gulps and sits on the chair, where your pretty ass was sitting seconds ago.
"I wouldn't mind if you sat on my lap Y/n. I don't want you getting tired of standing" he emphasizes, patting his thighs. You look at him for a mere second and give in. You firstly sit at the tip of his knees, right at the edge, but he's quick to wrap his hands around your waist and pull you closer, until your back was against his chest. You let out a quiet gasp that he seems to ignore.
"Ok so... Let's see" He squints at the textbook and grabs the pen that your previously threw, and marked something on the page. You eyed his perfect hands, thick fingers that would fit perfectly inside you...
He takes in a deep breath, involuntary breathing in the scent of your shampoo. He lets out a deep sigh as he realises he won't be able to concentrate since he's popping a boner. "Y/n I don't think I can focus if you keep clenching like that" he warns, placing his hands on your hips once again.
You immediately freeze and let out the breath you've been holding in. "Huh?" you ask him innocently, hoping (or not) that you've heard him incorrectly.
"I'll get hard if you keep clenching that little pussy on me" he lets out bluntly, sighing once again.
"S-sorry" you apologize, stuttering in disbelief.
"It's alright" he assures, his hands now rubbing your sides gently "Unless you want me to get hard...?" He says with a fake frown covering his features and you decide to scoot back into his crotch and grind down into him.
He can't stop the whimper that escaped past his plump lips, losing his self control as he definitely feels himself getting hard now. Math problem long forgotten, you get up and face him, kneeling before him and placing your hands on his knees. "Can I see it?" You ask hopefully, eyes shining in excitement.
"How could I say no to you?" he says, already pulling at the strings of his sweats and pulling them down along with his underwear. His half-hard dick springs out, before resting on his thighs. You gawk at it, your mouth watering at the sight. "You wanna taste?" He asks, grabbing his base and stroking it at a slow pace.
"I-I've never-" he cuts you off "Sucked dick? Well mine would be the first to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours" He breathes out as your scoot closer and replace his big hand with your small one. You lean in and guide his dick to your mouth.
You kitten-lick it a few times before placing it on your tongue and hollowing your cheeks, taking him into your mouth, just like porn videos that you've watched. His head falls back against the chair as he struggles to keep his hands to himself.
"Mm e-easy with the teeth" he hisses, the slight pain dissolving into pleasure as you keep swirling your tongue around his tick cock. "Yeahh j-just like that baby" he moans, catching a glimpse of your cleavage before closing his eyes and drowning in the pleasure your warm mouth was giving him "S-so good for me"
"Can I grab your hair?" he hesitates, and you weakly nod at him without taking your mouth off his length. The second his hands grip your hair, he's gone. Too lost in the pleasure, he bobs your head up and down his shaft, tears starting to water your eyes. "Fuuuuckk" his cock meets the back of your throat and you gag around him, bringing him to the edge. Just as he's about to cum, he pulls your head away from his cock and leans back against the chair restlessly.
You look up at him confused "I don't wanna cum just yet" he answers the questions roaming inside your head and strokes your cheek with his right thumb. "That was so good, fuck, I'm sorry if I hurt you" he apologizes with sudden guilt, but you're quick to reassure him you were fine (even though your throat was already feeling sore).
Your eyes landed back on his cock "It's gotten so big" you look up at him and back down to his cock. He smiles at you and gestures for you to stand up. He pulls your back down on his lap so that his tip is against your tummy. His hands caress your cheeks once again before sliding down your neck, to your shoulders and landing on your chest.
He massages your breasts and squishes them together, liking how they almost jump out of your shirt. He reaches for the hem of your shirt and plays with it "Can I take it off?" he asks blushing, like the didn't just have his dick down your throat. He doesn't hesitate when you nod at him and lift your arms up.
When he realises you're not wearing a bra, he swears his dick twitches at the sight and he can't help but ogle the plumpness of your breasts. His hands reach up to hold them, squishing them in awe. He locks his eyes with yours as he leans down to suckle on your left nipple, swirling his tongue around your areola, making you moan out in pleasure.
With each passing second, your hips unconsciously grinded against his thigh, your hands resting on his abs for support. His tip kept rubbing against the soft skin of your lower tummy, spurring him on even further.
When his soft lips leave your breasts, you look at him with need and place your hands on his shoulders. "C-can you take off your top too?" you ask, almost panting out of breath already.
He doesn't even bother replying, peeling off his top before you could barely finish asking him to. His eagerness clearly showing, and for the first time ever, he gets closer to you, his face just centimetres away from yours.
He looks into your eyes, as if asking for permission, "May I?" his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, then back up to examine your expression. You offer him a small nod.
He finally leans in, closing the gap between you two, and he thinks he's never tasted lips as sweet as yours.
His lips are on yours and you think you've never felt anything softer massaging against your own lips.
He keeps his tongue to himself for now, sensing your lack of breath. He pulls away for you to get a breather. You look at him, eyes slightly wider than before and you realise he's completely naked and you're topless.
For a second he panics as you almost start to panic. "Have you ever... done this before?" he asks curiously. You nod his way and he visibly looks relieved. You have, but only a few, countable times.
His hunger is suddenly back, diving right back in and this time experimentally licking your lips. You immediately open your mouth for his tongue to enter and explore your mouth.
Suddenly, you find yourself in a heated make out session with him. While your tongues circle around each other and your teeth clash together, his hands are on your thighs, under your skirt, massaging the supple flesh.
You find the zipper at one side of the skirt and unzip it, letting your skirt hang loosely around your waist. "Take it off" you mumble between kisses.
His hands reach higher till they find your underwear, moving it to the sides to feel your wetted core. He grunts into the kiss as he feels how drenched your panties are. "S-so... mm.. So wet.. hmm.. for m-me" he manages out between kisses, your lips limiting him from speaking properly.
When you've finally grew impatient, you pulled away, removed your skirt and undies and sat back right on him, with each knee on each of his side, trapping him into that stupid chair. You lift yourself up and he holds his base at your entrance.
"I don't have a condo-"
"I'm on the pill" you cut him off impatiently.
He mutters out a "fuck" underneath his breath and with one hand holding your hips and the other guiding his cock into you "Ready?" he inserts himself into your soaking slit.
You both throw your heads back at the same time, pleasure coursing through your veins. "Shit" he holds his breath, trying to contain himself and not cum yet as he finds the perfect pace for both of you. Not too fast, but definitely not boring either.
You're gripping onto his shoulders at the immense pleasure, feeling every inch of him inside of you, rubbing against your walls deliciously. The more you thought about it, the harder you clenched around him, preventing him from going any faster.
"Fuck you're so tight for me" he curses, holding your hips and thrusting up inside of you. You clench harder around him, bringing your hands to his cheeks and forcing his lips against yours. He gladly kisses you back, hands still on your hips, bouncing you up and down his cock.
His tip kept hitting your cervix, bringing you and him closer and closer to the edge. "Shit I'm close" He groans, his thrusts getting sloppier by each passing second.
"You close?" He whispers, leaning back to examine your facial expressions. You nod your head whimpering a small 'mhm', too fucked out to speak.
His right hand reaches down to your clit, rubbing gentle yet tight circles to your nub generously. You face scrunches up with pleasure, eyes completely shut as you feel him twitching inside of you.
He suddenly halts his thrusts, his head tilting back and he lets out a grunt, his thighs starting to shake beneath you.
Upon feeling him cumming inside you, you clench one more time before coating him with your own cum, suddenly trying to escape his touch due to over sensitivity.
Still inside you, he places one hand at the back of your head and pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on your head, his chest rising and falling as he tries to calm down his breathing.
"That was... intense" he breathes out after a few moments, tracing patterns on your bare back. You hum back at him, feeling his lips on the crown of your head. "Did you enjoy it?" he asks you sweetly.
"Mhm, did you?" you ask back.
"Fuck yeah" he weakly chuckles "Had the best time" he holds you closer to him. "You're not hurt aren't you? Or in any pain?" he questions worriedly, now stroking your hair.
"Nope, you didn't hurt me Jakey, I'm alright" You looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back at you and he couldn't help but place a short, chaste kiss on your lips. "That was good" you whispered "But I still got math to do" you ended with a whine.
"No problem y/n-ie, just get up, turn around, and sit right back on my lap" he says in an almost sarcastic tone.
"Are you asking me to cockwarm you while we work math?" you ask him suspiciously.
"Maybeeee" he looks down, then back up at you with puppy eyes "Pleaseee, don't go yet, mini Jakey already misses being inside you"
You roll your eyes "Fine. Maybe after we clean up and wear some clothes" you announced.
Safe to say that your math homework wasn't going to get done anytime soon, everybody knows that round 2 is right around the corner.
"Math can wait"
"Jakeee!"
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ok ok but hubby Fyodor gave me an idea, he’s figured out i get worried when his anemia gets bad so i fuss over him
imagine like,,, him using that against u. like if he’s losing an argument, or he just wants attention, he fakes sickness to get u to drop everything ur doing and come to his aid, u immediately feel bad so he uses that to manipulate u
feat.: Fyodor / reader
content: husband Fyodor, some manipulation but it's cute, Fyodor pretending to be a pathetic meow meow, fluff, sick fic
Fyodor is fragile, that much you're aware of.
Despite his quick mind, so sharp you reckon it could cut diamond, and his powerful ability, his physical body is still frail. His skin is pale, most likely since he spends too much time inside, hunched over in front of his many PC screens, providing him with no light other than the gloom of LED monitors, thin fingers tip-tapping away on the keyboard. His undereye circles are dark enough for you to seriously worry about his health, and the many blue veins visible on thin eyelids only make him appear more sickly.
The anemia doesn't help, either; thin lips occasionally turn whiteish the longer he insists he's going to take his iron supplements once he's done with work — when is he, ever? — and his nails, kept short not only for the sake of being able to play the cello, but also since he continued biting at them, are coloured blue so often you have almost forgotten what they usually look like.
Fyodor, despite being an internationally wanted terrorist, is fragile, and that's exactly why you're unable to stop the way your chest suddenly aches with concern when he goes quiet mid-argument, gaze unfocused, glassy, as he sits down on the bed.
This really isn't the time to worry about him, especially since, just a few moments ago, you were snarling at him, obviously angered for a reason that seems entirely unimportant right now — and yet you can't help it either, your concern an emotion that blooms in your chest so very naturally, given just how much he means to you.
“Are you alright?” The words leave your mouth before you know it; your brows furrowing as you kneel down next to him, one hand on his thin upper arm. Even through the fabric of his shirt, his skin is cold. “Do you need anything?”
“I'm quite alright, dear. I would hate to bother you, especially when you still seem to harbour disdain for me.”
Even his voice sounds frail. Guilt gnaws at your every bone.
“That's not—”, you protest, a feeble attempt, though you're quick to swallow the urge to start another argument down the moment he rests his head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut, ebony lashes against snow pale skin. “I don't 'harbour disdain' . I didn't even want to fight with you, it just — happened, but that's not important now. Let me help. Did you take your meds today?”
“Not yet, I'm afraid”, Fyodor says softly, and you're up on your feet almost immediately, making your way towards the kitchen to snag the offending pills, as well as a glass of water.
“You know you're supposed to take them daily with lunch.”
“That is merely to avoid forgetting them, to build a habit. The presence or absence of sustenance has no actual effect on them.”
Your eyes narrow. Fyodor allows a tired chuckle to leave his lips.
“Alright. I will try to take them regularly — for you, dear.”
Where, just a few minutes ago, you felt the urge to slap him with wrath — not that you ever would, not that you'd dare to, but the desire certainly is there whenever he acts all high and mighty, all-knowing, even around you —, your chest now tingles with warmth, with fondness. With love.
“Thank you. Are you feeling better already?” That's to be doubted, especially since he only took the pills a moment ago. Still— “Do you need anything? Maybe something to eat — yes, I bet you haven't eaten anything in a while now, too focused on work. You're impossible. Just lie down and give me a moment, I'll be right back.”
With those words, you vanish into the kitchen, already grabbing some vegetables. A quick soup is going to have to do.
Little do you know that, while you're busy worrying and fussing over him, there's a smile playing over Fyodor's lips ever so often, vanishing the moment you enter the room once more.
You really are too easy — though that's exactly what makes you quite this lovable.
OH. Oh, he would.. he so would... this is the most in character take ever...
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Simple Truths Pt. 1 | Quinn Hughes
Summary: Quinns got some feelings, and so does y/n.
Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst, depictions of anxiety, food, sickeningly fluffy domesticity. Use of the name Olivia.
Wc: 7.2k
Notes at the end!!
---
Quinn was the only other person who had a key to your apartment—given to him to use in case of emergency only. So when the front door burst open at 10 pm on a Tuesday, and Quinn barged in, suit askew and hair a mess, looking very frazzled, you dropped your bowl of ice cream and paused your movie as you approached him hurriedly.
"Y/n," he breaths, doubling over and panting with his hands resting on his knees while he tried to catch his breath. Your hands hovered around his face, unsure of what was wrong. Decidedly, you sit him down on the couch and hand him a bottle of water. Kneeling in front of him with your hands on his knees.
He chugs the water like a man left out in the desert sun. "Quinn, what's wrong? Are you alright?" You question carefully as he caps the water bottle. "Did you run here?"
He nods, leaning forward, head in his hands, sighing. He looks down at you, cheeks flushed. Your apartment buildings aren't far from each other, but for him to run for three straight kilometres and practically break down your apartment door, something must be terribly wrong.
A knot of despair coils in your stomach. "Is it your family? The team? Gotta tell me what's wrong so I can help you Quinny."
"I just wanted to come over," he mumbles.
It takes a moment for his words to process, and then you are throwing his half-full water bottle at his head. He ducks, professional athlete reflexes apparent. You stand up, pushing his chest so he flops backward on your couch.
"Are you joking right now?" You say incredulously, arms crossed over your chest like a displeased coach, "You did not bust down my apartment door at 10 pm on a school night, acting like someone died cause you just wanted to come over."
"Ok I wasn't that dramatic," Quinn says, loosening his tie and dropping it on your floor.
You glare at him, as you reclaim your spot on the couch, pulling the blanket over your bare legs. "You ran here."
"Well, i-" Quinn's mouth opens and closes as he tries to formulate a response.
"Close your mouth, Quinn, you'll catch flies" you snap, grabbing your bowl of ice cream from the coffee table.
"Ok, maybe I was being dramatic," he says with a sheepish smile.
"What happened to cell phones? Are we in the Stone Age? No text? No call? Just break down my apartment door?" You ask raising an eyebrow at him.
Quinn's cheeks flush, as he suddenly realizes how absurd the situation he painted was. "I was just bored" he shrugs sheepishly.
You look at him like he has grown two extra heads. "Quinn, I cannot believe you interrupted my night, acting like it was an emergency, because you were bored"
He gives you another sheepish smile. "Get comfy or get out" you instruct poking him in the ribs with your foot.
"My clothes still in the same place?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your ankle. You nod, un-pausing the movie as he drops your foot and, grabs his tie off the floor on his way to your bedroom.
You hear him shuffling around your bedroom, presumably hanging up his suit and grabbing a change of clothes before he turns on the shower. Within ten minutes, he's joined you on the couch, freshly showered and in a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt with his own little bowl of ice cream.
He sits across from you, and you toss the blanket over his lap and tuck your feet under his thighs. You pause the movie again and stare him down with a look that demands an explanation. Because no way, he broke into your apartment and practically gave you a heart attack cause he was bored.
Quinn sighs, promptly forgetting that his hair is wet as he runs a hand through it. He makes a face at the uncomfortable feeling and wipes it dry against his shirt. You can't help but laugh at him.
"I don't know" he sighs "I just started to feel super overwhelmed, and everything felt like it was closing in on me, and I just needed to get out."
"How are you feeling now?" you ask stealing his ice cream since he's not eating it.
"Like I overreacted, because now I feel perfectly fine. I'm sorry if I disturbed you." His voice goes quiet at the end, and your heart pangs for him.
"No sweat Quinny, I'm glad you're feeling better." you hum, licking ice cream off the spoon. Quinn watches you intently, not for the reason you think as you hold out a spoon of ice cream for him. He leans in, closing his lips around the spoon, keeping eye contact with you the entire time.
Your stomach somersaults and you quickly look away, pulling the spoon back. After nearly six years of friendship, two of which were spent yearning for Quinn to love you as more than a friend and the other four spent accepting that he would never see you as anything more, he still sometimes stole your breath and made your heart flip when he looked at you a certain way.
You had met the first time he came to Vancouver, scoping for apartments. You were nineteen, working part-time at a coffee shop not far from Rogers arena when a frazzled-looking Quinn and his parents walked in. They had ordered coffee and pastries, and while you were serving them, you couldn't help but hear Quinn's anxieties about how he would "never find a place to stay in time for the beginning of the season" and how he would end up sleeping out of a hotel.
Ellen had sighed, trying to reassure him for the millionth time that everything would be ok, while Jim had been in contact with the real estate agent.
As nineteen-year-old you placed a spinach quiche in front of Quinn, and you spoke up. Making a decision that would change your life for the better. Your roommate had recently moved out of the apartment, and you hadn't yet found a replacement.
Ellen's eyes lit up, and you wrote down your number for her. A month later, Quinn Hughes was your new roommate. The two of you quickly became good friends, and even though you only shared an apartment for a few months, your friendship only grew stronger with time.
The rest is history.
"I think... I'm missing Jack and Luke a lot these days." Quinn says with a sigh as he takes the bowl of ice cream from you. You cross your arms with a fake pout, and Quinn rolls his eyes, feeding you a spoon.
You don't say anything yet. He's not done talking, and you don't wanna scare him away by interrupting too soon, or saying the wrong thing before he's done talking.
"And I think, with this being the worst we've done all season, everything just feels like a jumbled foggy mess."
Quinn sighs for the millionth time. He places the empty bowl on the coffee table and wishes he could sink deeper into the couch. You yelp as he yanks your legs apart and crawls between them, laying his head on your chest. It wasn't uncommon for the two of you to cuddle, but the manner in which he just did so has you turning red, you're glad he can't see your face right now.
One of your arms comes around his back, your fingers making patterns, while the other delves into his hair. "You can't make fun of me" he whispers.
"Never Quinny," you say resting your chin atop his head.
"I feel like I'm failing" he sighs, "I feel like I'm failing the team, and my brothers and my parents and you. And I just- it's hard. Its all so hard"
Your heart hurts for Quinn at his confession.
"Quinn you could never fail me. Or your parents or your brothers, or your team," you say softly, fingers scratching his scalp lightly. He hums, eyes fluttering closed. You can feel his eyelashes tickle your collarbones.
"I love you, your parents' love, and your brothers love you, and no matter what, we are here for you. Just because you are having a bad stint doesn't mean you are failing as a captain. You are a team. You win together, and you lose together, and it's not all on you."
Quinn sighs again, pulling away from you. He sits on his knees facing you, tongue darting against his lips in nervous habit. "But what if-"
"Hush, Quinny" you pull him back on top of you, wrapping him in the safe cocoon of your arms "There's no But what ifs. You are an amazing captain and brother and son and leader. Everyone in your life is so lucky to have you. You are doing so so brilliantly."
You lay in comfortable silence, stroking his hair softly. Holding him close and listened to his breathing. What you would give to keep him in the safety of your arms forever. To grind all his insecurities into dust, and show him what a brilliant human he is.
"Move in with me" he speaks so quietly, that you don't know if you heard him right. "It'll be just like old times."
"I'll think about it" you say softly. He breathes out a relieved sigh and plays the movie. The dull ache in your chest turns sharp. After four fucking years of getting over him, he comes to you with vulnerability stark in his baby blues, and that's all it takes to undo the last four years of work. Damn him. Damn it all.
The two of you fall asleep tangled on the couch, with the movie playing in the background. You wake with a crick in your neck and Quinn half underneath you, an arm around your waist holding you close to him. It isn't unusual, but after last night it fills you with such a feeling of uncertainty that it's borderline uncomfortable.
Your phone reads 5:00 am, and you huff, prying his arm off of you. He groans, arm tightening around your waist, so you can't escape his hold.
"Let me up Quinn," you say, tapping his cheek.
"Don' wanna," he grumbles, "so warm."
"I'll bite you," you warn.
"No, you won't," Quinn says against your hair, sounding slightly more awake. You smirk, turning your head and biting his Bicep.
"Ow! Y/n/n, what the hell!" He groans, shooting up into sitting position. His arm is still around you, and you bump your head against his with a laugh, "I warned you."
You get up from on top of him, grabbing the ice cream bowls from the coffee table and discarding them in the sink. "Get your ass up Quintin. We're going on a run."
"I don't have clothes" he tries as an excuse, flopping back down on the couch. You snort at the lamest excuse he has ever made. He has nearly everything at your apartment. It was basically as if he lived with you already.
Hell, there was even an extra pair of his skates in your coat closet. Honestly moving in wouldn't even be that hard. He'd probably just have to bring his hockey bag over. Except, he had the nicer apartment. So logically it would make more sense for you to move into his place.
"Nice try Quinn, get up and get changed or I'm coming back with a bucket of ice water," you say, going to your bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for your run. It takes you less than fifteen minutes to be fully dressed, and by the time you're done, Quinn is up and ready, tossing you a protein bar.
"I forgot my phone at home," he says sheepishly, taking a bite out of his own protein bar.
"You'll live," you say patting his chest as you pass him to put on your runners.
"I can't believe you want me to run without music, you heathen" he gasps offendedly, grabbing his pair of runners that he keeps at your house.
"We can share," you say, tossing him an air pod, a gift he had given you a while back. He catches it and tucks it into his ear without complaint. That is until you turn on the music.
"I'll never understand the music you run to" he grumbles, and you take the elevator down to the main floor.
"It's about the beat of the music" you sigh, probably for the millionth time. For all his complaining, he doesn't actually mind it. The elevator stops and the main floor, and you and Quinn both wave to the doorman as you head out.
As soon as you exit the building, you take off. Quinn is unprepared. "Hey! What- wait up!" He calls, taking off after you. You cackle as you run farther away from him. Albeit you only sprint away from him for less than a block, and then you are stopped by a red light. He is by your side before the light turns green and you grin at him, keeping your feet moving.
"Ready Freddy?" You grin, as the seconds count down before the light turn green.
"Yes, I am Sam," he responds with a dopey smile so blinding you feel your heart go faint.
The light turns green, and the two of you take off together this time. Although you technically have to run just a little faster, because Quinn's legs are longer. After two more stop lights, you cut into the park, and this is where the real view began. You run along the coastline, the fogginess of the morning clinging to the surface of the ocean. The mountains loom in the background, and you sigh. Vancouver's scenery couldn't be beat.
After 45 minutes and roughly seven-ish kilometres, you've both worked up a good sweat as you enter your apartment building. "What do you have today?" You ask Quinn, in between deep breaths as you being your heart rate back down.
"Practice at 8:00 and that's it for the day," he says, handing you back your air pod.
"I'll drive you back to yours, on my way to work?"
"Yeah that's good" he hums as you unlock your door.
"I'm gonna shower, and get dressed, do what you will," you say, toeing off your shoes and kicking them haphazardly into the closet. Quinn rolls his eyes as he straightens them out and puts his beside them.
You strip your sweaty clothes off and make sure your hair is out if the way, before hopping into the steamy shower. You're in there long enough to make sure you are clean, and then you're getting dressed. Brushing your hair into a neat bun, you pick out an easy outfit, that you know won't make you hate your life as the day drags on, and with that, you're back in the kitchen.
Quinn hums to himself as he flips eggs for breakfast. There's a glass waiting for you on the counter, with a pink straw sticking out of it. Quinn's own glass is sitting on the counter beside him half finished. He spots you coming out of your room and smiles, sliding the glass towards you. "Smoothie," he says.
"Oh, also, I didn't know what you wanted for lunch. You have some salmon and potatoes in the fridge, and some Thai chicken or I can make you something quick if you want?" He offers, placing a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.
There's a smiley face in your toast. The domesticity of it all makes your chest ache. He's in your kitchen, making you breakfast, and packing you lunch. "Oh!" His eyes light up as he slides onto the barstool beside you, "And I made your coffee" he points to your trusty travel mug that you never go to work without, that's filled to the brim with coffee.
"Thanks, Quinn" you mumble around your mouthful of eggs. The overwhelming feeling of if only this was real takes root in your chest, and you take a deep breath fighting off the urge to cry. It could be real, but not in the way you want it.
You eat your breakfast silently, completely forgetting that Quinn had asked you a question until he nudges your knee. "You're thinking loud," he says softly, "wanna get it off your mind?"
"Oh, it’s nothing" you smile, albeit unconvincingly, but Quinn doesn't push.
"So...Lunch?" He asks, taking both your empty plates and putting them in the dishwasher.
"Oh, actually I was thinking why don't you spin by for lunch? The kids haven't seen you in a while, and if practice is at 8 then you'll get off at the perfect time to come have lunch with me and spend the rest of your day pestering me at work?" You say, all trace of your anxious stupor gone.
Quinn lights up at the idea. "Yeah, of course, that sounds like fun."
Visiting you at work is one of his favourite things, especially when he gets to have lunch with you and hang around afterwards. And as an elementary school teacher, whenever Superstar Canuck Captain Quinn Hughes is in your classroom, it becomes the most popular room in the building. With students and staff.
"That still doesn't answer what you want for lunch," he says poking you with his foot.
"Surprise me" you shrug. You finish off your smoothie with a slurp and put it in the dishwasher before gathering your things.
Quinn is still doddling around your kitchen, "Alright, let's go, I don't wanna make you late for practice" you say slipping on your shoes.
"I'm coming, I'm coming" he slips on his shoes, and tucks a bag of snacks into your school bag, grinning at you knowingly. You roll your eyes at him, locking your apartment door behind you. The drive to his place is less than five minutes, and Quinn spends the whole drive criticizing your music.
By the time you stop in front of his building, you're ready to smite him. "Get out of my car Hughes or I'll throw you out." He sticks his tongue out at you and you roll your eyes, unlocking it for him to get out. Sometimes you think the only reason your friendship has lasted so long is because you are good at dealing with children, and sometimes Quinn acts just like a child.
"See you later Y/n/n" he grins.
"Text me when you get in!" You say, before he shuts the door.
He salutes you with two fingers and jogs into his building. You wait until you receive a text from him before pulling out of the parking spot and heading to school.
The hours leading to lunch are excruciatingly long. The temptation to spill the surprise that Quinn is coming to visit today is nearly worth the excitement the kids will have. But you know the looks on their faces will be so much more worth it when he shows up unannounced.
As you mark assignments, and the kids silently read, your phone buzzes with a text from him. It's as if he can sense when you're thinking about him.
Q: I'm out front when you're ready.
You glance at the clock: two minutes until the bell rings, and then you're free.
You: Be out in 5
You stand up, addressing your class "Everyone can put their books away, and go get your jackets and outdoor shoes on, and as soon as the bell rings, you may go."
The scramble to the cubbies is immediate, as kids kick off their shoes and yank on their jackets. They line up at the door, bouncing on their toes. You pull on your own light jacket and wait at the front of your class with them, chatting to the talkative ones. The bell rings and they run from the classroom like it's on fire.
Rolling your eyes at their enthusiasm, you grab the sign that says "Ms. Y/l/n has left the building" so that your kids know to ask Mr. Farmer if they need anything from the classroom and lock the doors. You let the office know that you'll be gone for the duration of lunch and with that, you escape the building.
Quinn is waiting out front in his car. The one he drives when he wants to look less suspicious. You snort to yourself, as you open the door and slide into the passenger seat.
"What's funny?" Quinn asks immediately, raising an eyebrow at you as you do your seat belt.
"I was just thinking that it's funny you have two cars, one that you bought to drive specifically when you don't wanna be easily recognizable"
"Oh I'm sorry," Quinn teases, pulling out of his parking spot carefully "Have I offended the lady by not picking you up in my Porsche?"
Something about watching him drive makes your stomach flutter. The slope of his neck as he looks over his shoulder, the prominence of the veins in his hands as he grips the steering wheel. Your throat goes dry, and you look away quickly as the thoughts spiral darker, into thoughts you should not be having, about your best friend and his car. Especially not while sitting beside him, in said car.
"Earth to Y/n?" Quinn says, poking you in the cheek, you turn your head, instinctively biting his finger. He hisses and yanks it away. "You've been spacey since this morning, what's up?"
"Nothing," you sigh, "just thinking."
"Well don't think too hard, I wouldn't wanna strain your limited brain cells" he teases, flicking you on the forehead. You glare at him, crossing your arms like a child. His demeanour from last night has done a complete 180°. You know he feels bad for telling you all his feelings, but you also know that he'll bring it up again when he's ready.
There's silence between you two, accompanied by the base of a pop song that plays low through his speakers. It's uncomfortable. And that's scary because silence with Quinn isn't supposed to be uncomfortable. He's supposed to be the one constant in your life. Solid, sturdy and unchanging in the face of the unknown. And somehow, in the course of one night and weighty conversation, he has become the unknown. Why did he have to come into your life and unearth all these feelings?
His hand is reaching for yours, and he laces your fingers together, stopping the nervous twitch of your fingers, and your heart stutters even more.
"If it's about moving in with me, don't overthink it," he says with all the simplicity in the world "I'll understand if you don't wanna do it. I mean, we aren't nineteen anymore, you are your own person."
And before you really know you are saying,"I'll do it!" Comes spilling from your lips. Quinn looks at you, eyes hopefully like you've never seen before, and he squeezes your hand.
"You will?"
You nod, and he squeezes your hand again, the grin on his face so bright it could light up the darkest of nights. And at that moment, the only thing you know is that Quinn was derived from whatever Divine power there was because no smile should be able to chase away all premonitions of darkness like his does.
Lunch is burgers and fries, at some high-end restaurant that Quinn likes. You talk about everything, and nothing all at once, and once more comfort settles in your bones like an old friend.
"Did you tell the kids I'm coming?" Quinn asks, stealing a fry off your plate. You smack his hand with a glare and he simply steals another one.
"No, I was thinking you could pop out from behind my desk or something."
Quinn rolls his eyes with a smile. "Sure, that'll be fun" he'd be lying if he said the way you talked about the kids didn't stir something funny in his chest. "Is Olivia there today?" He asks casually.
Something not akin to jealousy sparks under your skin. Olivia Daunt. A teacher down the hall who enjoyed making underhanded comments about you to anyone who would listen. And Somehow she was always needing to borrow stuff from your room, whenever Quinn was around.
"Unfortunately" you grumble, pushing away your clean plate. Quinn finishes a second after you, and he's signalling the Waiter for the cheque. You slap your card on the table, and Quinn shoots you a look so disbelieving someone would think you just plucked a live fish out of the tank and ate it like candy.
He snatches your card off the table and shoves it in his pocket.
"Quinn," it sounds like you're scolding a child.
"Y/n," he parrots.
"Seriously, let me get it this time."
He snorts like you've made a particularly funny joke. "Not a chance, sweetheart"
"Quinn, please."
"Y/n, I was the one who took you out legally that means I have to pay."
"Legally?" You scoff as he puts his card on the table.
"Mhm," you steal his move, snatching his card off the table and sticking it in your pocket.
"Y/n" he warns, hand inching towards you across the table.
"I was the one who asked you to get lunch with me, so I think that means, legally, I have to pay. Now put my card on the table Quinn"
"Don't play with me, Y/n" he says, voice low, eyes demanding. A shiver runs down your spine, and the yearning that floods you is overwhelming. Oh, how you wish he was looking at you like that in a different scenario. Without a table separating you. Maybe with less clothing, too.
Your cheeks turn red as you realize that for the second time today, your thoughts towards Quinn have taken an unholy route. Unintelligible grumbles fall from your lips as you put his card on the table, hoping he stops looking at you like that right now.
The smile that lights his face is worth losing the battle. He doesn't give you back your card until he's paid, and the two of you are walking out of the restaurant side by side. You make it back to the school just before lunch is over, with just enough time to hide Quinn under your desk to surprise the kids.
As the kids settle in before the last bell rings, your eyes flick to Quinn, crouched under your desk. He looks up at you from where he's sitting between your legs under your desk. Hands braced on your knees.
The sight of him kneeling under your desk, has you thinking downright sinful things. You look away quickly. He squeezes your knee, and you stand up, unable to deal with the burn of his palm through your pants any longer without combusting.
"Alright, kids," you clap, "before we bring out our science books, I have a surprise for y'all." the room immediately explodes in excitement.
"Is it donuts?" One kid screams, sending the other kids into a frenzy.
You laugh as they scream their theories at you, and let them get it out of their system.
"Alright!" You yell over their voices with a smile, "drumroll, please," you say, walking to the light switch animatedly as the kids tap their hands on their desks rapidly. The plan was you would flip off the light dramatically, pretend your surprise hadn't worked when you turned the lights back on, get everyone to take out their science books and then Quinn would jump out before you started teaching.
You flick off the lights, and the drumming gets louder. Then the lights turn on, and the noise ceases abruptly while the kids look around.
"Oh man!" You sigh dramatically, "it didn't work," you pout, walking to the front of the class.
There's a mixture of sighs and groans as everyone gets out their science books. Your back is to the class, as you write the beginning of today's science lesson on the board. You crook your fingers at your side, signalling for Quinn to show himself.
He jumps out from under your desk with a "boo!" And chaos unfolds. You grin as the kids scream, some of them launching out of their chairs to attack Quinn with hugs. "MR. HUGHES!!" They yell as they crowd around him, jumping up and down.
The first time he'd come to the classroom, they were mostly starstruck and too nervous to talk to him very much. Now, whenever you brought him in, they had the biggest smiles and were armed with non-stop stories to bombard him with.
Quinn looks at you, mouthing, "Can I do it?"
You nod, and he grins as brightly as the Kids. He claps his hands three times. "One two three, eyes on me!"
The kids respond in kind, with two claps, saying, "One, two, eyes on you."
"Alright, everyone, listen to Ms. Y/l/n," he grins, hands on his hips.
The kids all turn to you for instruction. "Ok, everyone, please take your seat. Mr. Hughes will be here for the rest of the day, so you all will have plenty of time to bug him."
The kids take their seats happily, unwilling to lose their Mr. Hughes privileges. At that moment, Olivia chooses to appear at your classroom door, a scowl on her lips. "Some of us are trying to teach, so if you keep it down, that would be-"
She stops mid-sentence as she notices Quinn. Her voice turned sickly sweet. "Oh! Quinn! I didn't know you were dropping by today. How have you been?"
Quinn gives her a polite smile. "I'm alright," he says curtly. You can't help but smirk as Olivia's jaw clenches.
"Did you leave your class alone?" You ask, brows raised. She huffs as if remembering she has a job to do and all but storms out of your room without finishing what she came to say in the first place.
The remainder of the day goes by smoothly; your class is on extra good behaviour, because Quinn is there. As predicted, Olivia has all of a sudden forgotten all of her teaching supplies and, over the course of the next hour, comes into your room to borrow a white board marker, a stapler, post-it notes, a pen and a couple of other things you know she has.
Olivia also definitely opened her big mouth because a few other teachers dropped by under the guise of needing to borrow something or other lame excuses. They say hi to Quinn, like they didn't know he was there, and linger a little too long.
When the bell rings for third recess, you cherish your time alone with Quinn before all the teachers who don't have hall patrol have somehow found themselves in your classroom.
"Do you ever wear my jerseys to school?" Quinn asks, offering you slices of the tangerine he just peeled as he sits on your desk while you lesson plan.
"Usually if I'm coming to a game after, or if your games are on Fridays," you say, absent-mindedly opening your mouth for him to feed you. He pops the orange slice in, not even questioning it.
"Why Fridays?" He asks, placing another orange slice in your mouth.
"Cause Friday is the last day of the week, so it deserves some celebration."
Quinn's smile is shy. He doesn't understand why you would associate him with celebration, but warmth floods his chest, and he basks in it.
As if Olivia can sense that you are enjoying your peaceful moment with Quinn, she walks in, hips swishing and voice dripping with false sweetness. "Y/nnn," she whines, drawing out the last syllable of your name, "Hi Quinny," she giggles.
You scoff, rolling your eyes. Quinn looks uncomfortable. "Ok, firstly, his name is not Quinny, so don't call him that." You say, crossing your arms over your chest, but before you can get to your second point, she cuts you off.
"Fiesty!" She mocks, and your cheeks burn. At that moment, three more teachers enter, and you sigh, knowing they are all here to ogle and flirt with Quinn. Unfortunately for them, you do not have the patience to deal with this right now.
"Alright, everyone out. I'm busy."
Olivia is the first to protest, "But I need-"
"Get out." You grind, glaring at her. She rolled her eyes and hurried out with the other teachers close behind. Quinn sighs a breath of relief as the door shuts behind them. Sometimes, you forget that he isn't a people person, and the way he is around you is reserved for you and you only.
"Sorry," you mumble out, tucking your lesson plan into your binder.
"S' not your fault," he smiles
"Wanna help me set up for the last activity for today?" you ask, holding out a stack of papers in a sort of peace offering.
"Sure," Quinn smiles, taking the stack of papers. He places one on each desk, inspecting it as he goes, "What's this for?"
"It's part one of our compassion project," you say, pulling the example paper out of your binder. It was a piece of paper titled 'Who I admire' The assignment was for each student to pick someone they admired, and write down a little bit about what they mean to you and why they inspire you. Part two of the project would be to make a little photo collage of their inspirational person.
"Can I see your example?" Quinn asks curiously, joining you back at your desk; you hand it over to him, the tips of your ears going red with embarrassment. Your paper reads:
'Who I admire'
One of the people I admire most is Quinn Hughes. He is my best friend and the person I love to spend time with the most. I admire Quinn because he is a hard worker and a natural leader who cares about everyone before himself. Quinn inspires me because he is a kind and caring person who always tries his hardest and can get back up no matter how hard he falls.
"You...admire me?"
"Of course, I do," You answer softly, "I don't think there's anyone I admire more."
Quinn's breath is caught in his throat. The sentences are worded for elementary schoolers, yet the weight they hold is unmatched to him. Sometimes, simplicity meant the most. Just as Quinn is about to say more, the bell rings, signaling the end of recess.
While you wait at the door to greet your class as they file in, you don't notice that Quinn is scribbling furiously on one of the many extra sheets you printed for the inevitable mistakes and overthinkers. After the class is settled and you explain the assignment, they get to work.
A low buzz of chatter fills the room as the kids work, asking each other who they will write about. Quinn took your chair while you were explaining the assignment, so you sat on your desk in front of him.
"Here's another example sheet," He says, handing you the sheet he was working on. You glance over it quickly, your smile growing softer as you read what he wrote.
One of the people I admire most is Y/n Y/l/n. She is my best friend and one of my favourite people. I admire her because she is kind and funny and always believes in me. She inspires me because knows what she wants, and she isn't afraid to put in work to get what she wants.
The irony of the last sentence is not lost on you. Years of wanting Quinn, and you never put in the work to get him. You buried your feelings in hopes that they would go away. The fear of losing Quinn all too prominent to risk the friendship over some silly little feelings.
"I love it," you smile, pinning it on the board next to yours so the kids have another example to look at. You and Quinn sit together at your desk, chatting about mundane things here and there while kids come up to ask questions. On more than one occasion, you got asked if they could use Quinn as their person, to which your answer was no because he was your example. Quinn laughed about it every time.
"What do you want for dinner?" Quinn asks, absent-mindedly scrolling through recipes on his phone.
"I've got leftovers in my fridge. I'll eat those."
Quinn looks at you, face scrunched in displeasure. "Don't be silly, we are having dinner together. What do you want? And don't say surprise me."
Well damn. He took the words right out of your mouth. You tap your fingers in thought. "Steak," you grin.
"Steak?"
"Steak." You nod. If there's one thing Quinn can cook absolutely magnificently, it's steak.
"OK, what should we do on the side?" He hums, presumably checking his grocery list.
"Let's do that spinach fruit salad and roasted potatoes and asparagus?"
"Sounds peachy. I'll stop and get groceries when we leave. My place or yours?"
Soon, you will be able to say Our place you sigh. Being with him, but not with him is eating you from the inside out. Six years of friendship be damned. Living like this was killing you.
"Mine," you glance at the clock, ready to get this day over with and get home. You stand up, putting in your teacher's voice, "Alright, class, we have fifteen minutes till home time. Five to clean, five to get ready, and the last five to talk to Mr. Hughes!"
The kids cheer, and you dismiss them to clean. Within ten minutes, everyone is sitting in a circle on the carpet around you and Quinn, asking him questions.
"Mr. Hughes?" A little girl named Meredith raises her hand.
"yeah?"
"When are you gonna Marry Ms. Y/l/n?"
Your face turns red faster than you thought possible. Quinn looks at you with a glimmer in his eyes, a dusting of pink on the tips of his ears. Before Quinn can answer, you cut in, "Oh honey, we're just best friends." You say softly. It's physically painful for the words to come out of your mouth, but unfortunately, it's the truth.
Quinn looks at you, eyes swimming with emotions you can't discern. The bell finally rings, signalling the day is over. Usually, you would hang around for another hour, preparing for the next day, but with the promise of Quinn making dinner, you want to get home as soon as possible.
After making sure there are no more stragglers, you practically drag Quinn out of the building before anyone can stop him from flirting. "I'll meet you back at your place in a little." He says, walking you to your car.
"Yeah, I'll see you in a bit." You watch as he walks to his car and gets in before pulling out of the parking lot and heading home.
Less than an hour later, Quinn is opening your apartment door with a few grocery bags in hand. He places them on the counter, hands you the latte he brought you, and changes into a more comfortable set of clothes before starting dinner.
"Take a break and come give me a hand?" Quinn suggests, from where you've been marking and planning since you got home.
"I'm almost done," you grumble, wanting to finish so you don't have to think about work for the rest of the night. Quinn glances at the clock, "You're getting huffy," he says fondly.
"I'll be done in ten," you sigh.
"Alright," Quinn hums, "I'm physically removing your work from in front of you in ten minutes."
You glare at him, knowing he will make good on his threat and get back to work, doing only the stuff that needs to be done for tomorrow. As promised, you put everything away in ten minutes, and wash your hands to help Quinn in the kitchen.
"Where do you want me, Chef?" You ask, drying your hands on the kitchen towel.
"Salad," he grins, nodding his head towards the salad stuff on the counter. Grabbing a knife and a cutting board, you stand beside him and prep the stuff. Your hips bump and your arms brush as you work in the comfort of each other's space, chatting about whatever comes to mind.
And when dinner is ready, and Quinn pours the wine, your heart aches. The steak tastes like ash on your tongue, and you feel the tears welling behind your eyes.
"Y/n? What's wrong? Are you ok?"
You sigh out a deep breath, and six years of friendship be damned because you just can't do this anymore. Your fork clangs against your plate, and you look at Quinn with a gut-wrenching sadness in your eyes.
"I can't do this anymore," you say softly, eyes downcast. You can't look at him. You can't. Your heart would break, and you know it.
"Do what? What's wrong? I don't understand." his voice is desperate, pleading, worried. Then he's abandoning his plate and kneeling by your chair, a comforting hand on your knee. "Please," he whispers, squeezing your knee, "let me help you. Tell me what's wrong."
The outline of his palm burns against your leg. You stand quickly, the chair sliding backwards. Your head swims, and you don't know what to do next. You want to tell him he can't help because it's his damn fault. You want to say you can't do this. You want to scream.
"What can't you do Y/n? Let me in. Let me help." He says, standing, stepping into your space. For all the times it felt comforting to have him in your space now it feels like misery.
"Quinn," you sigh, "I can't do this," you motion between you at the dinner. "I can't do it anymore. I just can't. It's killing me from the inside out."
Quinn is in utter disbelief. He looks so so hurt. You can't believe you caused him to look like that. A bitter laugh bubbles in your throat because fuck. His voice sounds foreign and far away. "I- what? Did I do something wrong?"
You sigh, running a hand down your face. "You know," you start knowing you'll regret it, that this will be the end of your friendship. Six wonderful, glorious, beautiful years. The memories would be there, but the bitterness of an ended friendship would taint them.
"I have loved you for six years." It comes out quiet. So utterly quiet, like raising your voice any louder, will shatter both of you into a million irreparable pieces. Quinn stares. The silence is worse than anything he could've said. It's all-consuming, crawling under your skin with whispers of it over. It's done. You've lost him.
Something snaps, and you can't take it anymore. You run to the front door, slip on a pair of shoes and run down the hall, down the stairs and out of the building. Away from Quinn and his suffocating silence.
---
Hello hello my loves. I hope yall are doing good on this Saturday night. So, as you can tell, this is a very long one. A whopping 7.2 k words! I definitely didn't mean for it to get this long. And you know what's funny?? I cut soooo much out. Originally, this fic was supposed to be completely different lmao. Not sure what happened but here we are! I'm probably gonna make this an Au, cause the amount of stuff I thought up while I was writing Quinn x Elementary school teacher, is unhinged. Anyways I hope yall enjoy!! Love Soph.
Find Pt.2 Here
#qh43#quinn hughes#nhl imagine#quinn hughes x reader#nhl x reader#quinn hughes x y/n#hughes brothers#domesticity#angst#fluff#vancover canucks#captain quinn#loving you is as easy as abc 123
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Have YOU got an old Windows PC Microsoft has told you can't run Windows 11? It's time to give it a new life!
How to install Windows 11 on unsupported PC Hardware using Rufus. You can also disable some other Windows 11 bullshit like data harvesting and needing a Microsoft account.
It has been in the news a lot lately that Windows 11 isn't allowed to be installed on PCs without certain requirements, including the TPM 2.0, a chip that was only included in PCs made in 2018 or later. This means that once Windows 10 stops receiving security updates, those PCs will not be able to (officially) run a safe, updated version of Windows anymore. This has led to an estimated 240 million PCs bound for the landfill. Thanks Microsoft! I get you don't want to be seen as the insecure one, but creating this much waste can't be the solution.
(I know nerds, Linux is a thing. I love you but we are not having that conversation. If you want to use Linux on an old PC you are already doing it and you don't need to tell me about it. People need Windows for all sorts of reasons that Linux won't cut.)
So lately I have been helping some under privileged teens get set up with PCs. Their school was giving away their old lab computers, and these kids would usually have no chance to afford even a basic computer. They had their hard drives pulled so I have been setting them up with SSDs, but the question was, what to do about the operating system? So I looked into it and I found out there IS actually a way to bypass Microsoft's system requirement and put Windows 11 on PCs as old as 2010.
You will need:
Rufus: An open source ISO burning tool.
A Windows 11 ISO: Available from Microsoft.
A USB Flash Drive, at least 16GB.
A working PC to make the ISO, and a PC from 2018 or older you want to install Windows 11 on.
Here is the guide I used, but I will put it in my own words as well.
Download your Windows 11 ISO, and plug in your USB drive. It will be erased, so don't have anything valuable on it. Run Rufus, select your USB drive in the Device window, and select your Windows 11 ISO with the Select button. (There is supposed to be a feature in Rufus to download your ISO but I couldn't get it to work.?
Choose standard windows installation, and follow the screenshot for your settings. Once you are done that, press Start, and then the magic happens. Another window pops up allowing you to remove the system requirements, the need for a microsoft account, and turn off data collecting. Just click the options you want, and press ok to write your iso to a drive.
From there you just need to use the USB drive to install windows. I won't go into details here, but here are some resources if you don't know how to do it.
Boot your PC from a USB Drive
Install Windows 11 from USB Drive
If you had a licensed copy of Windows 10, Windows 11 will already be licensed. If you don't, then perhaps you can use some kind of... Activation Scripts for Microsoft software, that will allow you to activate them. Of course I cannot link such tools here. So there you go, now you can save a PC made from before 2018 from the landfill, and maybe give it to a deserving teen in the process. The more we can extend the lives of technology and keep it out of the trash, the better.
Additional note: This removes the requirement for having 4GB Minimum of RAM, but I think that requirement should honestly be higher. Windows 11 will be unusable slow on any system with below 8GB of RAM. 8GB is the minimum I think you should have before trying this but it still really not enough for modern use outside of light web and office work. I wouldn't recommend trying this on anything with 4GB or less. I am honestly shocked they are still selling brand new Windows 11 PCs with 4GB of ram. If you're not sure how much RAM you have, you can find out in the performance tab of Task Manager in Windows, if you click the More Details icon on the bottom right. If you don't have enough, RAM for old systems is super cheap and widely available so it would definitely be worth upgrading if you have a ram starved machine you'd like to give a new life.
#Windows#Windows 11#tech#tech advice#pc#TPM 2.0#rufus#open source#open source software#technology#tech tips
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So... Warriors
It is obvious by now he's not ok. He's irritable and tense.
I've had thoughts and ideas on this for awhile, so I think now's a good time to speak them. Very important detail at the end.
There are some really big and some small things adding to his stress
The drama with the sword. Wild went against the agreed plan, and lashed out in anger fear for twilights injury. From things Jojo said, Wars is mad about it for a while.
I have said this in other posts, but based on things Jojo has said and some details, I do not think Wild likes wars. He has not really gotten close to him, which adds on to the negativity between them
But Wars... is a captain. This journey is different, and he's doing amazing at setting aside expectations of how to work with rank. But that is still a clear stressor- to him that was unacceptable in battle
^this is one big thing we watched go wrong and has clearly been upsetting since
Another thing is
Wars has been taking on too much. We've seen him break up a fight at the inn, comfort Time (time!), and tell him he'd take care of the others.
Twice he said "let them", and "let him be"-making others have space they needed. He asked Four what was wrong and followed up with helping with smithing.
^^These are all small things. None of these are huge- practically tiny tasks. But they add up- all the attention to others feeling but not his own
... and
Wars has not smiled. Yes, he smiled, but it was not his smile. Since Twilight went injured to the inn, there has only been smiles in a way expected, but not much beyond when he found out his friend wasn't dead. (And when he helped Four at the blacksmiths)
In the updates, I have seen others saying how cool/pretty he looked. Which he did! But emotion wise, I only thought he looked angry. Even when teasing Twilight...
^Not his smile
But here's the biggest thing that I believe is bothering him...
I've wanted to point this out for awhile. The thing is, Wars was really hurt when he found out Twilight didn't tell him about Wolfie
It's small details. A few sentences and facial expressions. But they add up over the chapter, and I don't think he felt trusted or trusting when he found out
He tried to find out who else knew
And why he was one who didn't
*read the blurred words:
"No one said anything to me, I'm just left out of the loop. Who else knows? Just us?"
Wolfie being secret wasn't necessarily about trust, but wars took it personally. He really didn't understand or want to accept that Twilight would have told some of the others but not him...
Wars is distinctly closer to the ones his age, who the younger ones often turn to. And as someone who's been through war, who bonds closest with those he feels he works with best?
Twilight having a major secret he didn't share with Wars, but did with others,
Felt like a knife to the (back?) chest.
And it hurt him
Look at his face when saying "we couldn't do a thing for him". He's looking away, directly after asking four and wild if they knew. I don't think he felt trusted. Or trusting. From thinking someone wasn't who he thought he was, and maybe was closer to others...
^^this is what I think is perhaps the biggest stressor- yet most unnoticeable
Wars never spoke to anyone about his feelings. He pushed it aside and went and helped.
This is ok. Between people so close, anything can be worked out. This is very revealing of how much Wars cares about twilight and the others
As far as Warriors pushing aside his needs and focusing on others... it's hard.
But I can confidently say this: Warriors would never want to not help all he could, when the others needed him
Here's this screenshot that makes me laugh (and somehow sky is just chill with this?)
Wars: oh my god my friend just came back from a wolf what the Hylia who can I even trust I'm having an invisible crisis
Sky: oh yay the sword helped he's back :)
Twilight: I'm fine *currently dying*
Wars is stressed right now. He's taken on too much, he's probably still mad at Champion, and... he feels betrayed (god wars should never have to feel betrayed) and untrusted
Like literally everyone ever others, wars deals with his hurt. Sometimes he can't deal with it alone, and sometimes he can. It will all work out, and I love how much he loves his brothers.
But nothing, I repeat nothing
Will be ok
IF HE DOESNT START WEARING THE DAMN SCARF SOON CMON WE HAVENT SEEN IT IN LIKE TEN UPDATES
PUT ON YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT SCARF CMON MAN
Ok I'm calm <3
.
Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse :D
#petition to bring the scarf back 2024#linked universe#linkeduniverse#no hate towards any for accepting Wars help#they were all overextended. now for recovery#my fanfic authors know what I'm talking about with trust and betrayal#he's not ok#I cannot make a post only exploring the dark sides of relationships#with love strong enough to hurt- how is there not beauty to be found there?#I only like the scarf to want it back. but. I have given up. have at it wars simps#Lu wars#I feel like some of my wording was too harsh- perhaps from just discussing an uncomfortable topic#but if I have said anything offensive let me know I want to learn :D
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Don't be a stranger! Pt. 7
Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader
Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship
Simon gives a few hard knocks on your door, “Love, it’s me, Simon.”
He waited for what felt like an eternity for you to open that door. While waiting he wondered if you had finally come to your senses, and decided that you didn’t want him in your life anymore; that you would call out and tell him to leave. You didn't though; you opened the door.
That was when he saw you.
In the moment he felt like he did the first time you opened your door for him. You looked just as nervous this time as well.
The cracked door is swung open once you've confirmed that it is him standing at the door. You rush out the door and fling yourself at Simon. "I’m so upset and you have so much to explain to me, but first please tell me you're ok." Your voice is muffled as your head is pressed into his shoulder.
Immediately his own arms are wrapping around you as well. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and he needs confirmation that you're alright especially after the mess he witnessed in your flat. He doesn’t know when they showed up, but if he had waited to call you Simon doesn’t know what would have happened to you.
“I’m alright, love.” He whispers to you. “Let's go inside your room. I’ll explain as much as I can right now.”
You take a deep breath before releasing your hold on him and nodding your head. Silently the two of you walk back into the room; you both taking a seat across from another. "Am I in danger?" you finally speak after a few slow seconds.
"Maybe." There was no point in lying to you Simon reasoned with himself. Plus he didn't want you to think everything was alright only for you to get hurt because he lied to you.
You close your eyes and take a few shuddering breaths. He wished that he could comfort you right now, but he doesn't want to overstep with you right now. When you're done you make sure to look him directly in the eyes, "What happens now?"
"Now you and I are going to go back to base. A car, and my team, are waiting outside for us. You'll have to talk about your encounter with those men in great detail. It's not going to be a fun conversation. After that is entirely dependent on what is found during our investigations."
"I'm not in trouble am I?"
"You're fine, but depending on what is found you're probably going to be under protective custody until this matter is resolved." Simon knew Laswell was going to either set you up with a room on base or in a safehouse nearby. With the way you keep messing with your hands it's clear that he's not helping much with your nerves.
It only takes you a few moments to respond to him, "Will I be able to see you at least?"
"Love, I'm going to be with you every step of the way."
Your body finally seems to relax upon hearing those words. "Ok."
"Ok?"
"Ok, I'm ready to go then."
Once confirming that you're all packed up Simon doesn't even give you a chance to pick up your bag. He simply throws it over his shoulder, and leads you out the door, and it isn’t until he’s out in the parking lot does he debate leading you back inside.
Soap and Gaz are waiting outside the car; wide grins on their faces as soon as they see the two of you. He swears if either of them says anything regarding “Operation: Wingman” he might just have to kill them. Simon doesn’t want help, specifically from them, as he tries to gauge how you feel about him.
It's Gaz who is the first to approach you, "Hello, I'm Gaz and you must be the one sending those amazing treats to our Lieutenant here."
"Oh so he has been sharing then; that's good! I was worried that he's been keeping them to himself." You two give a friendly handshake, "It seems I'll be hanging around for a bit. You'll have to tell me your favorite sweets. I'll make you whatever you want!"
"I'll keep you to that!"
Coming up right behind Gaz is Soap, and based on the smile on his face it's clear that causing mischief is the only thing on his mind. "Aye, lass I will as well! Those treats were to die for. So nice of you to make those for your boyfriend." He extends his hand for a handshake as well, "I'm Soap by the way!"
"Johnny!" Simon watches as your goes immediately red, and meets his eyes for a few seconds before turning back to Soap.
"Oh! Um…we're not dating!" You stammer out now pointing avoiding his gaze.
“Really?” Johnny puts on a surprised face, “Well, let me tell you then-”
“Soap!” Price's voice suddenly calls out. He gives Soap a hard look before directing his gaze toward Simon. “Are we ready to go Ghost?”
Simon puts his hand on back and begins to push you towards the car; away from Johnny. “More than ready, let’s go.”
“Ghost?” He hears you whisper to yourself. That was another thing he was going to have to talk to you about. Before now he had kept Ghost from you, but it seems you and Ghost we’re going to be very well acquainted with you coming on base.
“That’s me, love, that’s the name you’ll need to call me from now on.”
“Got it.”
With that he puts your bag in back, and helps you get comfortable in the car. Making sure to give you the window seat; putting himself in the middle. It’ll be uncomfortable, but he’s not about to put you right next to Johnny. Who climbs in the back with them; Gaz sitting in the front with Price.
Before starting though Price turns in his seat, and extends a hand to you, “Pleasure to meet you, name’s John Price, but you can just call me Price.”
You also exchange your name with Price with a soft smile.
The rest of the car ride is fairly simple. The two sergeants keep you entertained with light conversations while Simon thinks about how he is going to keep you safe and close to him while on base.
As soon as the car is parked on base Price is giving all of them orders, “Gaz you take the cameras to Laswell. Soap, Ghost, you two are going to escort our guest,” he gestures toward you, “to the main meeting room. Gaz and I will be joining you there soon.”
The walk is silent as Simon takes charge of leading you to the room. It isn’t until you’re all in the room does Johnny speak up, “Tell me lass, how did the two of you meet?”
“Oh,” Your checks start to turn red, “I was just moving in, and I was making a lot of unnecessary noise admittedly.”
“It sounded like an elephant was walking around your place,” Simon huffs.
You grin at Johnny, “He was so nice though coming over and helping me with everything.”
“Aye that’s my Lt.; such a gentleman this one,” mischief sparkles in Johnny’s eyes, “He’d make a great partner to any lass.”
Simon was going to have to talk with Johnny if he kept this up. Before he could say anything though the door opened.
It was Price and Gaz that entered the meeting room; Price motioned his hand towards you, “Alright lass, you can come with me now. You’re going to be talking with Laswell, a friend of ours, about everything.” He then looks at the rest of them, “You lads are going to go through all these files, and start investigating what’s going on.”
Gaz then drops all the files he had been holding onto the table, “Laswell says these are the most likely groups that might be behind all this.”
Simon grabs one of the files, but watches as leave; his eyes never leave you until the door shuts. He tries to focus on actually going through the papers, but he can’t stop thinking about you. All he wants to do is chase after you right now. Simon knows he can’t think like that though, and pushes those thoughts out of his mind.
Later when Price and you return it has been decided that you would be staying on base for now. Just to lay low while things are still fresh; if nothing happens again soon there would be talks of moving you to a secure location off base.
The rest of the day goes by fairly quickly. Simon takes to showing you around base, and getting you set up in your new room. It isn’t until later in the evening when the two of you are in your room do you have time to really talk in private.
“This is not how I imagined my weekend going.” You say move around the space.
Simon feels guilty thinking about that. He had just completely uprooted you from your home; not to mention your job. He’s sure Laswell has figured that situation out with you, but there's only so much that can be done before you may have to lose your job depending on how long you have to stay here. “You’ll be able to go home before you know it.”
“I’ll have to find a new flat first; this might as well be home for me right now.” You give a deep sigh, “I suppose you’ll be flat hunting as well.”
It’s easy to see where this is going, but Simon doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up in case he’s wrong. “I never really liked the place anyway; you can definitely find a better flat in no time.”
You nervously ask your next question, “Do you want to look together? I’d love to still have you close by, or we could be roommates!”
“You’d willingly let me live with you?”
“Of course!” You're smiling now; more confident when he didn’t immediately shut the idea down, “You were practically already living me before all of this.”
“I’ll think about it; we can discuss it once everything has been settled.”
Conversations between you two continue to flow as if you hadn’t been apart for a month. It’s everything Simon has been hoping for once he saw you again. Everything must come to an end though, and the yawn you give tells him that it is once again time to say goodbye.
“Goodnight Simon!”
“Goodnight love, I’ll see you in the morning.”
-
Having you on base quickly becomes a new normal to Simon as the days go by. You’ve also been making the most of this situation first by becoming Price’s unofficial secretary. Helping him with his filing system, and reorganizing the storage room. It was amusing watching Price practically on the verge of tears seeing that you fixed that mess of a room. Simon may have overheard Price talking to Laswell about what he would have to do to get you a permanent position as well.
Then you had taken to cooking in the 141’s private kitchen. Gaz is the one you would normally drag into the kitchen to be your taste tester. Your reason being that he offered the best advice and wouldn’t lie about how he truly felt about a dish. It happens so often that Gaz now just goes to the kitchen early, and helps you with cooking the entire meal.
Lastly you’ve been drawing with Johnny whenever you both have time. You were in the commons room with your sketchbook when Johnny coincidentally came in with his own as well. This had been the start of you two spending more time together, and exchanging art tips and tricks with each other.
Any other time outside of this you could be found right next to Simon. Which is why when one afternoon you weren’t there he began to worry. He knew Gaz was training some of the recruits and Price was in another meeting with Laswell. So Simon knew you wouldn’t be with either of them. Which only left Soap, the problem being though is that Johnny was also nowhere to be found.
Just as he was about to check your phone location an incoming call from Soap came in. He didn’t waste any time answering.
“Johnny.”
“She’s gone.”
Note:
Sorry this took forever to get out! but on the bright side this chapter is like 2k words to make up for that. Feel free to let me know what you think about this; I love feedback whenever I write!
Taglist: @nexthyperfix @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole @just-pure-trash @definitelynotaclown
@141tfsan @arminarlertssword @openup-yourmind @evie-119 @v1x3n
@whos-fran @trcyyyyy @azkza @kaoyamamegami @yyiikes
@leryg0 @pansexualhailstorm @trulovekay @kdidgg @ane-sthesie
@zhongtar
#x reader#call of duty#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#fem reader#ghost x reader#task force 141#female reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#john soap mactavish
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just a little stsg drabble i did for you guys <33
"Sugu! Look its a girl!"
"Satoru, are you stupid? You can't point at people its impolite!"
"Why is it just sitting there"
"I think she's crying.."
"Awww~, who made you cry?"
you just stared at them dumbfounded, you weren't even crying, you were lying on the grass as they hovered over you
"OH MY GOSH SUGU SHES SITTING UP"
"OH MY GOD SATORU SHUT THE HELL UP YOU'RE SCARING HER"
you carefully sat up and stared up at them
"H-hi!"
"Aww~! Your voice is so pretty. My name's Gojo !"
"My names Geto..."
"I'm Y/N !"
immediately you could tell the difference, Gojo was more laid back and playful while Geto was serious and well.... serious thats all. though you were different from them you guys established a strong friendship, standing up for each other, talking with each other, and basically doing everything with each other.
ପ꒰⑅•ᴗ•｡꒱໊੭━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚<33
usually people say "Every trio has a duo" this isn't the case for your friendship. with you guys everything is different, i wouldn't necessarily say that they're the duo but they are in a sense??? I mean like they usually make plans to do stuff and force you to join them not leaving you alone just not letting you make the decisions ( lmao im sorry i don't make sense im new to making these things :((( )
for example they'll make plans for a sleepover without telling you you then just drag you along, not caring if you wanna go or if dont wanna go
"Huh~? Why didn't you plan it with me~, I could've made time for you guys! Besides I already have plans :(( sorry...."
"...Ah, I see..."
"Nooooo, darling~ You can't cancel them?? For us??"
"Sorry 'Toru, I can't we've been planning this for dayss"
"...Can we come?"
"YEAHHH! CAN WE COME PLEASSEEE MAY WE???"
"Sugu~, it's girls onlyyy"
both their eyebrows furrow and just blankly look at you
"......."
"......."
".......what"
"Wellllll, guess what darling!! You are either going with us to this girls only shit orrrr you ditch them and come to our sleep overr"
Geto just nods to his words while crossing his arms
"Darling, you wouldn't ditch us for them would you? We prepared this for days and canceled our plans for this too!"
of course Geto was going to manipulate you into coming with them, after all you're just a dumb pretty thing right? They could easily manipulate you into moving in with them how hard could this be? Perhaps not...
"No, I always cancel plans for them just to be with you guys. I know you planned this for a long time but I haven't seen my friends in a long time... You could bring Nobara to the sleepover!!"
"I don't want Nobara...."
"Well I don't wanna cancel my plans Sugu... Sorry maybe another time?"
"No, Y/n I said either we're going WITH you or you come with US"
i mean its ok right?? You'll just bring them with you can get this over with! You can probably make them wait in the car? wait no, you can't you aren't that cold hearted but if you bring them to an all girls sleepover its going to be awkward... maybe you could ask your friend if they can sleep on the couch? I mean maybe its an exception
"Mmm... You can come with me then.. I have to ask my friend about it though"
"...Really?"
"Ah, ok then you can ask them now"
"Mmk..."
you picked up your phone and attempted to stand up to go call your friend
"No, stay here put her on speaker I wanna listen please"
you reluctantly sat down and called her putting her on speaker
"Hii, you ok Y/n?"
"Mhm... I was just going to ask you if I can bring two of my other friends over?"
"best friends"
"Oh yeah, I mean best friends.."
"Oh! Yes of course! The more the merrier!"
"...What if they were the opposite gender..."
you could hear the pause as you started sweating with Geto and Gojo intently stared at you
"U-uhm... It's an all girls sleepover though...its going to be a little weird"
...well this was awkward as hell, you stared at them and saw Gojo pout a little while Geto glared so hard at the phone you swore it would shatter
"I-I promise they won't be any trouble! They'll sleep on the couch"
"I wanna sleep with you though..."
"No, it's my turn Geto shut up"
"No you shut the fuck up"
"Y/n~ he sweared at mee~"
"...Are they in the room with you right now?"
oh fuck
"No? What do you mean?"
"I jus' heard something sorry... I mean, I guess if they're ok with sleeping on the couch then sure thing! Just don't tell anybody else I don't want a bunch of girls bringing boys now..."
"Oh! Thank you! I'll get you snacks!"
"You don't have to~ but come earlier I wanna show you something!"
"Oh! Ok I'll come like 20 minutes earlier?"
"Mm, perfect! Mmk Cya!"
"Byee Cyaa~!"
she hung up as you glanced at the time, 3 more hours until the sleepover you got up and put your phone on the table
"Uhmm, wanna come with me to go get snacks?"
"YES PLEASEE"
"Yeah, I wanna come with you"
ପ꒰⑅•ᴗ•｡꒱໊੭━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚<33
"Oh! Y/n you're- ... oh?"
she just nervously smiled staring at the men behind you glaring at her as you smiled at her seeming giddy
"Hii Aeri! Here, I picked some snacks out for you"
you handed her the bag as she let you guys enter, she just silently stared at the floor as you guys took off your shoes and put on your slippers
"U-uh, Y/n come! Lemme show you something!"
she said as she grabbed your wrist and dragged you somewhere, she seemed excited and happy, not noticing the men following you and her
"Y/NNNN I GOT A CAT LOOK ISN'T SHE CUTE? SHES THE SAME BREED AS YOURSS"
"OMG IT LOOKS EXACTLY LIKS SIMI"
you bent down to pet it softly as she bent down next to you she picked it up and placed it in your arms
of course Geto and Gojo were annoyed that you were paying attention to a pesky animal besides they deserve your attention more all animals do are poo, eat, and sleep they didn't do anything to deserve your attention
ପ꒰⑅•ᴗ•｡꒱໊੭━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚<33
"Y/n"
"Y/n"
"Y/niee~"
"Darling wake up"
you groggily opened your eyes as you stared into bright blue eyes and black eyes (please dont ask me how you can see black eyes in the dark :(( )
"W-what are you guys doing here? You're supposed to be on the couch..."
"Can't sleep without you..."
"This idiot kept kicking me and snoring.... I want to sleep with you not him..."
"...."
"...."
"...."
you sat up and looked around you seeing the door open with the girls sprawled on the floor and bed
"Mm, m'kay"
you really didn't have any energy to argue with them and scold them about coming in the room which they were specifically told not to go in
AIUSHDKJSHDFJK JIM SO SORRY JMY HANDS HURT LIKE HELL IM GONNNA RIGHT A PART TWO LATER >:(((
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere gojo satoru#yandere jjk x reader#gojo x reader#yandere geto x reader#yandere geto suguru#yandere satosugu#stsg#drabble#fairyumii
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haiii idk if ur doing rq but-
can u pls do bllk bois with their kids and wife🙏maybe them attending a game or going out and the public/media recognises them or something and blah blah blah they become the talk of the town cuz of their resemblance or something like that🤷♀️idk just a suggestion, it's entirely up to u. i just want some fluffy family moments😭
do whoever u want and can, and it's a-okay if u can't or don't wanna do it😭👍
p.s if u end up doing it can u pls give the kids names🥹
ok i'll stfu now🫶
family time !!
🍂 characters/pairings: itoshi sae, mikage reo, itoshi rin x reader (seperate ofc)
🍂 warnings: ages of the kids are not specified (sorry idk how kids work sorry), nicknames like "ma" and "mommy" and "mom" used for reader, sae is the best hubby ever, reo is spoiling his daughter left and right, rin almost curses (almost!!), mention of paparazzi in rin's part, reader tears up a little at the end of rin's part (not angst, don't worry)
🍁 note: here u go anon!!!! im so so so sorry for making you wait for so long. your idea was adorable!!! i hope this makes up for it <3333 thank you for requesting. also i don't know the first thing about kids. like i genuinely don't know what 7 year olds are like. its so funny. pls help anyways enjoy
🍁 what would it be like to have a family with.... ITOSHI SAE?
"kenji, let's stay quiet."
"but... why? it's morning."
"because your mom is sleeping, and we shouldn't disturb others when they're sleeping."
oh, how difficult it was to keep your lips pressed in a straight line and keep your breath steady— when you could clearly feel two pairs of eyes on your sleeping form. sleeping on your side while facing these two was such a challenge.
sae's voice was incredibly low as he spoke to your son, words coming out raspy from how hard he tried to avoid waking you up. the constant shuffling of your son in the middle of the bed made your hands itch with the urge to ruffle his hair, even when your eyes were closed.
you felt another shift, this time a gentle finger pushing away a strand of your hair behind your ear. you'd recognise the touch anywhere, anyhow.
"ma is really pretty." you heard kenji mumble quietly. (that too at the softest volume ever, because he listens to his father and definitely wouldn't want to interrupt your sleep.)
"she is very pretty," sae sighed, staring at your relaxed face, eyes trailing from your eyelashes to your slightly parted lips as you breathed out. "she works hard for us every day, you know?"
your eyes slightly shifted once he said that, and you hoped he didn't notice.
you heard kenji whisper to his dad. "she's not really sleeping, is she?"
he whispered back to him. "nope, we will just wait until she gives up."
you fluttered your eyes open right after. your son giggled loudly and flung himself in your embrace, dragging the sheets underneath his body along with him. sae usually made the bed afterwards, anyway. "i knew it!"
"good morning, ken." you softly kissed the top of his head, flattening down the wild strands of red hair that became messy due to his weird sleeping positions. while your son gave you a very cheerful 'good morning' back, your gaze shifted towards your husband, who was already staring at you with his lips pressed in a line which almost looked like a small smile. "good morning, sae."
"good morning. we are too smart to fall for your tricks, just so you know." sae took your hand, pressing his lips against your soft skin. "did you sleep well?"
you nodded with a sleepy smile on your face. kenji whipped up his head from your chest to look as well, and he smiled too when he realised that you had gotten the rest you deserved after your long family trip yesterday.
sae calmly shifted out of the bed. he stretched, muscles still sore from how long he had to drive the previous day. he looked back at the cute sight of the two most important people in his life, eyes softening. "hey, ken. why don't you help me cook something for ma? you know what she likes for breakfast."
"i know, let's go!"
you watched sae quietly leave the bedroom with your excited son running after him, right on his footsteps, your heart swelling with love and your face bright with a smile.
for you, this is the best way to wake up.
🍁 what would it be like to have a family with... MIKAGE REO?
"baby, are you ready yet?" reo asked.
"almost! are you both already done?"
once you wore your earrings, you swiftly turned to look at reo standing in the bedroom's doorway along with your daughter.
as expected, they were completely ready, with reo in his casual (yet obviously expensive) clothes, your lovely daughter wearing a dress which reached below her knees.
a dress that you certainly don't remember buying for her.
your eyes shifted towards the culprit.
"sora, baby, who got you this dress?" your voice was soft, yet your eyes still stayed on the male who didn't show an ounce of guilt on his pretty face.
she noticed your behaviour and sheepishly pointed to her father, her giggles barely contained.
"okay, i did.. just an hour ago." reo admitted, then looked down at sora, a pout on his face. "you promised you wouldn't say anything!"
she shook her head, running towards you. with heels on, you felt so much taller, and your little kid felt so much tinier. you lifted your hand up for a high five, which was returned by sora immediately. "that's my girl."
reo's pout deepened. he walked towards you too. "hey, i deserve a high five too, sora. didn't i play with you while your mommy was busy getting ready?"
you rolled your eyes playfully, making sure your daughter didn't see. she was in her mimicking age at the moment, you would regret it if she rolled her eyes at any and everything you or your husband said.
reo leaned in for a quick kiss that you granted him, "you look beautiful. both of you do."
"you don't look too bad yourself," you mumbled, sending him a wink, which made his heartbeat speed up. even after all these years.
reo snapped his fingers as you all left the bedroom, gaining the attention of your daughter who was focused on fiddling with the material of your jeans. he asked her in hopes that she'd remember, "what are we going to do today?"
"the ball game!"
"it's... it's called football." reo chuckled at her cuteness, letting her tiny hand slip into his as he bent down slightly to carefully walk down the stairs with her. you followed after them, making sure to check that all the lights on the top floor were off before making it downstairs.
"yeah, football! you play that, right?"
"yes, i do! my sora is so smart!"
you smiled unknowingly behind them, noticing your husband's wide grin. you knew how much it meant to him when your daughter showed interest in football. although he wanted her to decide her own likes and dislikes, he wasn't going to let her inherit a company if she didn't want to— and yes, those thoughts are pretty early on since she's still a toddler, but you know that your husband overthinks. he just wants her to like football so she can have a hobby that she likes.
reo and sora continued to walk outside hand in hand, towards the parking lot.
you called out to your husband while checking the house once more, mentally going through the things you carried in your purse just in case you missed anything. "reo, you better not let her choose one of the cars by saying eenie meenie minie mo or else—"
"too late, our ride has already been chosen!" your husband yelled happily from outside, his laugh echoing loudly as you came outside to find your daughter already seated in her favorite car of the day.
"you are so in trouble," you shook your head as you made your way to the car together. your husband shrugged, "let her have some fun, babe. and i'm absolutely fine with being in trouble." he gave you one of those smiles, earning another eyeroll.
🍁 what would it be like to have a family with... ITOSHI RIN?
"why can't they just leave us the fu- leave us alone when we're with 'kio?" rin huffed, setting down his car keys on the coffee table as you entered the house. your son was already running up the stairs and into your shared bedroom to play with his toys while you and your husband lingered behind him.
"it's alright, rin. calm down." you spoke softly, patting him on the back as you went into the kitchen for a glass of water. he followed. "i just don't get it. we deserve privacy too."
"they weren't bothering us, you know that."
"...i know." he sighed.
"in fact, i just saw an article on the way home. people are going crazy because akio has your eyes, it's so funny." you tried to lighten the mood, succeeding when rin leaned in to look at the article on your phone that you showed him.
he sighed once again, eyeing the picture of the both of you walking on the street with your son in the middle, who had an excited smile on his face while he was looking at you. "he really does have my eyes. and your hair."
you hummed and caressed rin's cheek, soothing him with your quiet voice. "it's no big deal, baby. we can handle the paparazzi."
just then, your son was rushing down the stairs again, blooming with energy from the wonderful lunch you guys had half an hour ago. "i wanna go out again!"
you watched as rin made his way over to akio, seeing him bend down to come eye to eye with the child.
rin observed akio's eyes, finding the resemblance that the public was talking about. a feeling of pride took over his heart. he ruffled the boy's hair. "we will go out again tomorrow. wanna play in the pool for now?"
"only if mom comes too!!"
rin turned his head to look at you, raising his eyebrows in question. he smiled slightly when you nodded and walked towards them.
"of course i'll come! i just need to change. why don't you and your dad go ahead?" you cooed, admiring the two sets of teal eyes that stared at you with admiration and love, akio's being much rounder and bigger than rin's. your husband hummed in agreement.
"let's go, 'kio. i'll give you your favourite floatie."
your son followed after rin as they made their way towards the pool in the backyard, rin sliding the huge glass doors aside to let more of the warm sunlight in.
you knew the pool would calm both of the boys down. it had been a long time since you enjoyed some sun as well. you grinned to yourself as you made your way upstairs to change into some swimming-appropriate clothes, making sure to take some time in order to let akio have some son and father bonding time with his dad.
they were so identical. it was as if a piece of rin was present in akio, and a piece of akio was present in rin. both of them reminded you of each other.
once you came back downstairs, you quietly sneaked a glance towards the boys outside, hearing their muffled voices.
"oh, so you want to play like this?" rin said. the grin on his face made your eyes sting ever so slightly. he splashed some water towards your laughing son who waved his hands around to protect himself from the water.
this is exactly how you imagined rin to be a few years ago, and even though he didn't believe in himself much as a soon-to-be father that time— you knew he had found his safe place now.
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock manga#blue lock headcanons#blue lock fluff#bllk#itoshi sae#sae itoshi#itoshi sae x you#itoshi sae x y/n#itoshi sae x reader#mikage reo#reo mikage#mikage reo x reader#mikage reo x you#bllk x reader#itoshi rin x y/n#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin x you#rin itoshi x y/n#credits for the heart divider goes to @cafekitsune !!! <3
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ᨳ dance lesson
synopsis - After the hot senior jake tries to court you, (aka flirt with you because he's bored) you lie and tell him your type are dancers
genre - highschool!niki x fem!reader
warnings - jake being annoying !!NOTT PROOFREAD! I dknt eeven know what this is
word count - 1.3k
You rolled your eyes.
"You know I want you" he said, grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers together. "No you don't Jake, you just dumped another girl and are looking for an easy rebound," you unlaced your fingers and brushed your hair back "you'll just have to look for someone else." Today marked day four of the hot senior— Jake— flirting with you nonstop. He seemed to have the notion that every girl would drop dead if he spared them a single glance. He had the face, charm, charisma, if it wasn't for his personality and play-boy tendencies you would've fallen for him too.
"What do you want in a guy?" Jake started chasing after you in the hallway, "y/n I know you've never had a boyfriend, so what's your ideal type?" Ok, ouch, didn't have to bring your non-existent love life into this. After the initial sting of Jake's unintentional burn, you stopped to think. He has to be nice, charming, and kind to his mom. The bare minimum, really. "I don't know, maybe a dancer?" You shrugged and said something completely random knowing Jake could barely do a tumble roll (no offence).
Jake looked taken aback. "You can't dance, what's so hot about dancers?" You were now in front of your first block class. Jake doesn't even take pottery so for an hour‐thirty minutes he can't bother or talk to you. You rolled your eyes for the hundredth time this morning "Jake, seriously, give it up" you opened the door of the classroom and slammed it in his face. Aggressive? Maybe, but anything to get this Aussie away from your face.
"Literally, you date him!" You pushed Eunchae a bit because of her constant insistence of you giving Jake a chance. "No way! He's not my type" she rolled her eyes "who's your type anyway?" You asked, she never shows interest in any guy at school and she's drop dead gorgeous so… plus, school is often filled to the brim with mid guys anyway.
"Um… I kinda like Yang Jungwon from class 3" she chuckled a bit and tucked a strand of hair out of her face. "Really?! He's a grade older though" you and eunchae started talking more about Jungwon and Jake as you two entered the cafeteria.
"They're friends aren't they?" Eunchae asked "Jake and Jungwon?" you started to think about Jake and his massive group of friends. Most of them were fake but he had six close friends— if you recall. "Yeah, I think they've been friends for a while. Kinda cool how he has friends in the upper and lower classes" you placed your bag down at a table and sat down. Your legs hurt from running in cross country yesterday.
"I'll grab food for the both of us today" Eunchae smiled and left. What an angle, must know you're in pain from sprinting one hundred metres yesterday. You pulled out your phone and looked on instagram, the reels make you feel like a baby unaware of time while scrolling through hundreds of videos. "Hey" someone said, and sat down next to you. At first you thought it would be Jake. But after another beat of silence you knew this couldn't be the loud frat-boy energy Jake emitted everywhere he went. Instead when you looked up it was Niki. The Japanese boy in your pottery class. He had a more timid aura— quiet and reserved.
"Hi," you replied. "What's up?" You're still confused why the boy is sitting next to you. He sighed, you tilted your head in confusion "sorry. My friends— Jake actually, wanted me to talk to you" he confessed, a little laugh was bubbling deep in your throat. He looked up after looking down in his lap "well this is the worst first impression" he smiled awkwardly, "I'm Niki" he introduced himself, "I know who you are niki" he was shocked— apparently he thought you didn't know him— even though you've been classmates since junior high. "I don't have a memory of a goldfish Niki" he nodded and looked away embarrassed "tell Jake I'm not interested," Eunchae came back and placed your trays of food down.
"Actually I was wondering if you were down for some dance classes?" He said "Text me" he placed his number on your table and ran— dashed— back to his table.
The note had messy boy handwriting. Aka really wobbly and almost unreadable. "What's Niki doing talking to yah?" Eunchae began eating her fresh rice and kimchi "I don't really know," you looked at his number. Dance lessons? Did Jake tell him your type? "I think Jake made him talk to me," you scooped some soup into your mouth. "Something about dance lessons? Should I do it?" You handed the note to Eunchae. "'Private finance lessons with me (niki)'" she read the note aloud and slammed it down onto the table. "Yes! Take the lessons, I think Niki's been dancing before he could talk. Boy knows how to dance."
"Fuck, am I actually doing this?" You huffed and played with the hem of your workout top. It's now or never. Pushing the huge doors that separated you from your impending doom, you slowly stepped in, you took in the clean white walls, fresh smell of the lobby and lastly the posters everywhere. Posters of famous dancers, the dance teachers themselves, even kpop idols were everywhere. The crisp fall air outside brushed you slightly as someone stepped into the lobby. "Oh, um— uh, one second" the crunchy way of talking could only belong to someone as awkward as Niki. "Hey, I can't believe I'm actually doing this but, yeah. I'm here for a lesson," Niki was beside you, wearing a black sweater that was frayed at the sleeves and arms. His cargo pants seemed twice the size of you and his black hat covered his eyes. Even with his awkward personality around you, he had confidence— especially here at his dance studio.
Geez, maybe dancers are hot.
"Sorry for the mess," Niki placed his bag down and pushed some stuff away from the front of the mirror. "You actually came— which I didn't really expect… I didn't get a chance to rehearse anything." He played with his fingers nervously and looked up at you through his eyelashes. "It's ok! I–I don't know," you scratched the top of your head "I can leave?" Maybe this was a mistake, he clearly doesn't have a choreo or even a genre of dance I could learn-. "No! Please don't" Niki cut in before your mind got the better of you. "I have a pair dance we could dance to, it's beginner friendly and you get to…" he trailed off "what?" Was he blushing? "You get to dance with me" he finished and finally looked at your eyes. "Perfect"
You're an awful dancer. Correction: embarrassingly horrible. Your mom always said you have two left feet, guess she was right. "Ok, I think we should take five," Niki says, grabbing a Gatorade water bottle out from his bag and squeezing water into his mouth. "I'm sorry," your face is red from an hour of dancing. Somehow this is harder than cardio. "You're wasting time teaching an old dog new tricks" Niki turns and faces you "what?" He doesn't think you're wasting his time. He's had the most fun dancing with you then any dance partner he's been partnered with for the last two years. He won't say this out loud though. "You're fun to dance with y/n".
"Oh, I'm not very good but thanks" you smiled at him, eyes creasing and teeth on full display. God he could've kissed yopu right there. Actually, he did.
Nishumura Riki has put his lips of yours. Holy shit, holy shit. He got scared because of yoir silence and pulled away. "Im sorry, i didn't mean to that just now. I would ask you to dinner first—like a gentlemen—but apparently I can't even control regular human emotions around you-"
You giggled as he kept stressing over the kiss. He looked over with wide eyes after hearing you laugh.
You stood on your tippy toes and places a sweet kiss to his pink lips, stealing his breath away. After you broke off the kiss he kepr chasing your lips with his own.
"In a world full of boys, you are a gentlemen Nishmura"
-----
Been in the drafts a lil to long
Truth be told, i have no idea where that reference is from
Not proofread at all b t dubs , love yall even tho i disapeard off the face of the eartg 4 months
How are yalls 2024 going? Well for me i have been breaking out so much, um its hard for me to feel pretty. But 2024 is gonna my year /j 😍😍
#ᨳ reborn !#enhypen imagines#enha fluff#enhypen fanfic#niki enhypen#niki x y/n#enhypen niki#enhypen#enhypen x reader#riki nishimura x reader#nishimura riki
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