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1rsoldiersince2012 · 7 months

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Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3176 (chapter 49)

a quick update to break yet another writer's block * sighs *

49. Another night in Hell's Kitchen

"Who's this fancy looking fella?" Foggy asks, taking in Matt's appearance when you two come to the office minutes before the work day begins.

"You like it?" Matt slowly spins around, showing off his new navy blue suit, paired with a dark red tie with small black dots.

"Did you sell your kidney or something to buy this? Jesus, you're making me look like a subway worker." Foggy laughs, coming to touch Matt's suit to feel the material.

"Nah, got a good deal." Matt smiles, adding, "all the glory should go to y/n, she managed to bargain a smaller price."

Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and you quickly turn around from Foggy and Karen to hang your coat. "The owner is a friend of my mom and well, your blindness really soothed his character."

"Wait, wait. I think I'm missing something." Foggy stands, one hand on his hips, and intently looks at the two of you. "I think I need an explanation."

"Y/n invited me for Thanksgiving dinner and we raided the shops later." Matt shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal to hang out with an employee... On a holiday. At her parent's house.

"I just couldn't let him be sullen the whole weekend while we're all away." Making way towards the kitchen for coffee, you also escape curious glances, and soon, clients start coming, pilling up in the lobby with Karen. You don't get a chance to talk with Matt until noon, as he spends most of the time with Foggy, talking to clients and running around the lobby to print documents. You, however, continue to work alone in the office until the lunch break, and just when you thought you were all going to grab a bite, and you could have a chance to smoke a cigarette or two, three loud bangs on your office door, ruin all of your plans.

***

"I'm sorry... But your son has been involved in..." you raise your eyebrows at the short-haired black woman and her 16-year-old son, "an armed robbery?"

"Yes, I've already mentioned it four times."

"Sorry, I'm a bit... Not well today. So, Paxton, could you please tell me what exactly happened? If you want to stay out of jail, I need to hear every single detail."

Paxton's mother crosses her arms, clearly unhappy with the treatment she was receiving, while Paxton was sitting on one of the armchairs, not particularly bothered by the whole situation. "Nothing. My mother is exaggerating." He shrugs, looking out through the window.

"I'm sorry, he's joking, right sweetheart?" His mother tries to gently touch his arm, but Paxton slides away as far as he can. "He told me everything last night. That's why I came here without an appointment. I noticed how many people are here, I am so glad you could take us in during your break."

"Mrs Harris..." You begin, tapping your pen on your notebook, "enough with the pleasantries. I need the details so I could tell you if I'm able to help you and Paxton. Now, please, talk."

"Remember that article a couple of weeks ago about how five men robbed a jewelry store?" She asks, casting her eyes to the ground; you give her a negative answer and wait for a more detailed explanation. "Well, Paxton was involved in it."

"What did you steal?"

"Rings, necklaces, earrings. I found a box of them in his room." She answers for Paxton.

You look at the boy, noticing a small smirk he just bit away. "What were you planning to do with them, Paxton?"

"Sell. It's all gold." He rolls his eyes.

"Why?"

"I need money." Paxton says in a hurtful tone, sending a glare towards you.

"What for?" Your question hangs in the air heavily. "Why is a teenage boy so in need of money that he must go rob a jewelry store? Tell me, do you work somewhere?"

"No, the money that I bring home is enough." Mrs Harris answers for her son once more, and you look at him in thought.

"Is it drugs, Paxton? You need more money for a dose, don't you?" He stares back at you, visibly irritated. "Is it cocaine? Or marijuana? Do you smoke with your criminal friends after school? Where'd you get the guns from?"

"Excuse me, but these are false accusations, Miss y/l/n, I-"

You hold your hand up, and continue to look right at the boy. "It is drugs. Bloodshot eyes, runny nose. You keep buying those eye drops in hopes of concealing it, but they don't work, do they?"

"Miss-"

"How do you know?" He finally asks after failing the staring contest.

"I had my fair share of experience with drug addicts. Now, if we cleared this one up, where'd you get the guns and who were your accomplices?"

"I can't tell you. I made a promise." He protests in vain.

"Addict's promise is nothing more than an empty talk. Did they threaten you?" You're met with silence and uneasiness from Mrs Harris. "Paxton, we're bound by an attorney-client privilege. Whatever you say, stays in this room. I can only advise what's best for you in court."

"No."

"I think you're lying to me."

"Yes, okay? I had to keep my mouth shut so they would give me my share." You rub your forehead in thought, when Paxton speaks up again, "we found some guns in an abandoned place, it was like a warehouse or something. We only came there to threaten the owner, but then Joey fired a shot and... We didn't want to hurt anyone."

"Did you hurt someone?"

"No, the bullet went through the display glass, but we got scared and ran away." Paxton was still restricted, but after you assured that it stays between you three, he opened up.

"Did anyone see you?"

"No, we wore masks."

"Can you tell other names? Besides Joey?"

He hesitates, cracking his fingers, afraid to meet his mother's eyes.

***

"He's agreed to help us, in exchange for a full immunity."

"Did he give any names?" Mahoney asks, flipping over the papers.

"All of them." You answer, looking over at Mrs Harris and her son, still in your office. Matt and the rest of the office returned from their lunch break, and Matt was awkwardly hanging around Karen's desk, listening to you and Mahoney talking on the phone from time to time. Karen was pushing him to get a grip and finally start taking money from the clients, rather than doing everything for free; yet he kept pushing back with the same old arguments.

"Well, I need you to come to the station, so we could take the statement, only then I can guarantee a full immunity."

"Alright, we'll see you soon, Sergeant."

***

You enter Josie's before seven, pushing through the thick crowd to the pool tables, old rock music is blaring through the speakers on full volume. Some guy almost spills his drink and starts apologizing profusely, so you quicken your step until you finally see familiar faces of Nelson and Murdock. "Apologies for the delay, Mahoney held us up." You sigh, stopping in front of the pool table to watch how Foggy misses a perfect shot.

"He likes to do that a lot." Foggy comments, trying to cover up his incredible failure.

"What happened? You were gone the whole afternoon." Matt fixes his glasses, directing his movements elsewhere, although he wanted to at least put a comforting hand on your shoulder... But not in public.

"Uh... Whiskey neat?" You ask him, snatching his drink without waiting for an answer, and when the alcohol burns your throat, finally reply, "so basically, the warehouse where the kids found guns belong to the irish, yes, yet another gang in Hell's Kitchen. And the police are on the lookout for them, but it seems that they went into hiding." You put an empty glass on the table next to you, and touch Matt's shoulder, "Next one's on me."

"Wait, so what happened to the kids?" Karen asks, sipping her own drink, which you notice to be the same brand of beer that Matt keeps buying for himself.

"We all talked, but of course, their parents weren't happy with the charges, so none of them confessed, but Paxton's on tape, and he still has the full immunity on the table."

"And the store owner?"

"He didn't recognize any of them, but he did recognize the stolen jewelry that Paxton brought with him. At least they were smart enough to wear masks, but if Mahoney pulls out a search warrant, it's over for them." You sigh, plopping on the chair nearby. "I'm dog tired and I can't believe I've walked all the way from the station here."

"Hey, it's time to relax now, we've got all gang here!" Foggy puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes, a bit too strong for your liking.

"Nelson and Murdock are finally back!" Karen lifts her bottle and cheers when Matt's shot goes right into the hole.

"That's a pretty damn good shot there, Murdock." You comment, and Matt's cheeks slightly blush. You quickly check him out, relaxed and laid back, his jacket ditched somewhere on the chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his strong arms exposed. If you could, you'd take him right here in the filthy bathroom of Josie's bar; but you can only bite your lip and wait for Josie to bring you a drink.

Matt laughs, "I only got lucky this time."

"He's been riding on that luck the whole evening, don't trust his words." Foggy comments and goes around the table to find the best position for himself again.

*** The evening goes by quickly, you've already lost the count on how many drinks you have consumed in those couple of hours, the bar is nowhere near empty, on the contrary, it only became fuller. Foggy has won two out of six rounds against Matt and has been glued to his beer ever since, apart from an occasional bathroom break, and now it was Karen v Matt in the 'grand pool battle', as Foggy called it.

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your purse, confused. 1 new message. You can't help but look around the bar, before opening the message from an unknown number. Maybe Todd has come back to haunt you again?

U/N: hey, just wanted to check in, how are you?

You: sorry, who's this?

You see three dots appear and disappear multiple times, and at last, the person texts back, you quickly sober up.

U/N: It's Poindexter.

U/N: don't mean to appear like a stalker, but got your number from the case documents.

You: Oh

Dex clenches his jaw tightly, and Ray turns to look at him, clutching his phone. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dex answers, briefly looking around where they have parked their car. Dex and Ray were on a lookout mission tonight, and after a long afternoon of contemplating, he finally gathered enough courage to text you. And your response wasn't as warm as he expected it to be.

After two long minutes, which felt like an hour to Dex, you finally started typing something. Ray side-eyed his partner with rising interest, pretty much because he has never seen him staring at his phone like that. Dex's small smirk to your message added more suspicion to the already boiling pot.

You: does this count as a part of your job, agent?

Dex: not when I'm off duty.

You: are you off duty now?

Dex: well, I guess you caught me this time.

Matt listens to the sudden liveliness of your phone, slightly confused, but then Karen appears next to him and offers to teach how to play pool 'correctly', despite the obvious fact that he's been playing with Foggy the whole evening. You watch them from behind a half empty glass of whiskey, catching the way drunken Karen allowed herself to boldly touch Matt. You shouldn't be mad or jealous... Theoretically... Because you two weren't public or official. But theory aside, you were biting your cheek to refrain from a sarcastic remark. Matt couldn't help himself but smile awkwardly when he felt Karen's fingers sliding along his arm; her closeness was too much for his liking, especially in front of you; but your attention was somewhere else already.

You: didn't think feds worked overtime. You replied cheekily, but then added, I'm ok. Thanks for asking, Dex.

Dex's response was quick, you don't know a lot about us then. I guess everything that happened was very hard for you.

You get a fresh glass of whiskey, thinking over his message. It was strange, that when your life has finally settled, weeks after Teneke's murder, Dex decided to text you. Although there was some truth in his words, it was hard, the nightmares weren't the fun part of the whole thing too... But it was all in the past now; with Matt by your side, you allowed yourself to relax and not think of all the bad things that happened in your life since your return to Hell's Kitchen.

You: it was, yeah. If we're already on this subject, how are you?

Dex: I'm good, thanks.

And he was, especially when you texted back. His smile, even though a brief one, didn't go unnoticed by Ray. Dex wanted to text something else, keep the conversation going, but his mind was blank, especially when it came to making small talk; although he was now guarded by his phone and safe from any first-hand awkwardness, Dex still didn't know how to deal with the sudden stress. But his self-pitying session got interrupted by your message, so, what are you up to right now? So, you did care after all. Enough to not let this conversation die.

Dex: on a lookout for a bad guy, pretty boring. And you? Hopefully something more exciting.

You: in a bar, drinking my salary away with the bosses. How bad that bad guy is?

Dex: pretty bad in my opinion. Don't drink too much, you won't feel well tomorrow :)

You lock your phone and notice that Foggy and Karen were already dressed up.

"Look who's off her phone already, you missed all the fun." Foggy says, buttoning his coat up.

"You're leaving already?"

"Yeah, Karen's afraid to go home alone and I-"

"I am not!" Karen giggles, steadying herself against the pool table. Matt laughs, leaning on the pool cue and sips his beer.

"Huh, maybe I should head home as well... Just want a cigarette so bad, haven't had one the whole day." You sigh, and say your goodbyes to Foggy and Karen. The bar is still full, Josie's been running non-stop, and you think to yourself if it's always like this on a Monday night.

"That leaves just two us now, huh?" Matt says, striking the white ball into the red one.

"Isn't this just so romantic?" You laugh, walking closer to Matt, and whispering in his ear, "those shouting ones really know how to create an atmosphere...Full of sweaty bodies and that stink of cheap beer."

"I'd say this is perfect." He laughs, handing you the pool cue.

"No, I don't play."

"Come on, let me teach you."

"Really? And how will you do that?"

"With your help, of course." Matt laughs into your ear, and puts his hands around your shoulders, positioning the cue in your hands. "Now, turn where the white one is." You do that, noticing that there's a green ball right behind the white one. "And now, you strike that ball into another one, like that." He pushes the cue with quick, powerful movement, still holding your hand.

"It went in!"

"See, it's easy." He smiles, forgetting that he was gonna ask you who was texting you this late in the evening. You celebrate for a moment, but then grab Matt's hand, asking to go home. And who was Matt to refuse your ideas, when he knew how tired you were?

As you were waiting for a taxi outside, Matt was standing so close to you that you smelled his perfume mixed with all the smells of the bar even through your burning cigarette.

"Listen, I wanna ask you something, y/n." He begins, shuffling his feet on the sidewalk. "Do you... Would you like to go on a date tomorrow evening?"

"A date?" You ask again, averting your attention from the passing cars. "Matt, we've been together for like a month."

"I know, and I haven't asked you on a date once, that's on me." His warm hands found yours and squeezed affectionately, "let's go to some nice place, maybe not too expensive," you laugh and it's like music to his ears, "I would choose it myself, but unfortunately," Matt gestures to his glasses, "I'll put on my best suit, and you could put on that silk dress I helped you choose... What do you say?"

You wanted to kiss him right now and never let him out of your arms, "I have one place in mind... I just hope that it will be as romantic as Josie's."

He laughs, throwing his head back, "so, that's a yes?"

"Affirmate, Mr Murdock." You kiss him on the cheek, leaving the biggest smile on his face.

***

"Hey, I told you I'm sorry, I tried to reason with my mother to not go to that lawyer!" Paxton's voice rings in the dark alley, four dark figures hovering above him menacingly.

"So you had to tell our names to save your own ass, didn't you?" Joey asks, kicking Paxton's thigh with enough force to earn a loud cry.

"I was busted either way. She cracked me about the drugs, I can't be in jail for having drugs in my house, please!"

"You're just a pussy, Paxton. I always knew you were the weakest link." Toby says, pulling the hood off his head. "We could've sold that gold for good money and taken more guns from the warehouse, but it's all busted now. And whose fault is that?"

"Guys, please," Paxton shields his head from another kick, "I beg you, stop, I'll take everything back, I promise-"

"I don't take promises from a snitch. We should just kill you right now." Joey says, picking up a brick from the ground, and gets hit by one of Daredevil's billy clubs, which bounces off to knock out Toby. The rest of the gang look around in panic, until they notice a dark figure on one of the rooftops, and another billy club flies through the air and knocks them out as well.

"Please, please, don't kill me, Daredevil!" Paxton lies back down, keeping his hands in the air.

The devil of Hell's Kitchen lands on the ground switfly with little effort and picks up his billy clubs, agonizingly slowly stalking towards Paxton. "Call the police, call your lawyer first thing in the morning, leave no details, you understand? Drop the shady business or I won't be so nice the next time we meet." Matt rasps out, in case Paxton has heard him speaking in the office.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it, please don't hurt me anyone." Paxton cries out, holding his bruised side.

"Make the call right now, Paxton, I won't ask again."

The boy pulls out his phone, screen almost shattered from the kicks and dials the emergency number, fearfully looking at his knocked out friends and Daredevil himself, standing and looking right at him.

Another typical night in Hell's Kitchen.

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moonlit-trolls · 2 years

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Tis The Season

Characters: Ripley, Pietas from @nihoniums-fantrolls and a few NPCS

[ Tried my hand at writing a bit of romance! not too amazing at it but i think this bit is pretty sweet! Docs for your Sake ]

Perhaps in another world, maybe in another time this could’ve worked, but not this time, and not for Ripley. What happened probably was for the best, is what she thought to herself, what would she even do. yeah it was another fuchsia and maybe she could leave and have just a simple life with a simple job or something. But, she knew that no matter what she would be unhappy, she had the reason for being brought back against her will. They both would’ve ended up unhappy if she had not tricked him in the end, pretending a break up might break their heart but, at the very least they’re not dead by underground fleet operatives.

The bright Daylight created this Haze in the filtering windows. It felt horrible but at least it was something to look at while Ripley filed legal papers. In between filing the last legal paper for assault with a deadly weapon, She put her hand under the beam of sunlight. It wouldn’t hurt her, not with the several layers of Dampening that the window had, but it still felt hot, Uncomfortable, but in a strangely good way. As her hand danced under the soft light making shades on the desk below, the door leading to her office room had its handle turned, Damn lack of oil made it creak until it finally opened to reveal Pietas behind it.

That got a groan from Ripley, as she sat back down to look at the troll basically invading her law office… that was technically inside a fleet facility.

— What do you want? — she said, with poison on her tongue — Can’t you see i’m clearing the messes the clients you brought in, got me into. —

All of it was performative of course. Staring at pietas even at the nine feet distance they were from each other within the office was one of her favorite things to happen. They barely spoke to each other lest it be to discuss a client, pietas bringing one in, or On the rare times when you had coffee at the same table. But as your subordinate, she answered.

— Well… First off: Wanna go to the office party? i know you skip happy hour because “Jermin’s voice gives you a headache” but since he retired you still haven’t come. — Of course ripley wouldn’t go. Too many people — But i’m going ‘gainst corp tonight! We have the night off. And they told me to not invite you because you’re kind of a Siphon of happiness… Their words not mine! —

— Subtle pietas… Really subtle — Ripley said, normally she’d be still working while speaking, but maybe it is the feelings of just having left a near-sweep long relationship that makes her feel like just listening.

— Well. I wanted to know if you’d come! — pietas’ voice echoed the office as ripley got up

— Yeah… Sure why not. — Without even giving pets the chance of giving the puppy dog eyes.

Nonetheless pietas closed the door softly, as a — Nice!!! — could be heard from the other side, Small bits of commemoration in the given moment. as she was far from the view of anyone ripley did what there were bets in the corporation if she was even able to. She Smiled and sat back down

Well just out of a relationship, maybe thinking about rebounding wouldn’t be the best idea. but too bad she already began, the only problem is that she doesn’t want this to be a fling, she doesn’t want this to be a one night off, The other problem is that the only ever good relationship she had just ended a day or two ago. What do normal trolls do when they’re matesprits… — Coffee? Maybe pizza, Movies… Making out, ice cream and anything else? — she said with no louder sound than a whisper.

As she got encased in her own thoughts she laid her head down on the desk – What if she says no? I mean it would very well be understandable. look at the bags under my eyes, look at the breath of coffee i have every single morning… What the fuck is going on with me – letting time pass without work was unadvisable but she did it any way. She did it because it would be best to think of better things than to work on the legal fees of a fuchsia who was charged with DIU.

Time, Like the sun on her window felt hazy after it had set, the moonlight draped the streets outside. cold, with the threat of light snowing, and the noise blared from the atrium of the company floor. Ripley shook the bad feelings away, with a heavy cough to fix her voice. She opened the door, and walked out. the noise blared louder, party music n° 37 or something, as if she ever listened to anything that wasn’t on her playlist since she was a teen.

The rails were well polished, the floor felt like glue to keep her in place as her heart started beating faster. Ripley is not used to social interactions, and this was by far one of the largest she ever faced. “Everything is different there. people expect you to talk, there are no turns, no one seems to be wanting to trick you and it’s hard to understand if they’re being genuine.” are the thoughts rushing through her mind, but to walk is to push them away, and with the rails as her handle on reality she walked towards the party in the hallway from her office to the atrium.

Down the stairs, one step at a time. Ripley didn’t stumble as she got into the fray, no battle was being had outside of the one telling that she should simply ditch and go home. But she decided against that a while ago.

Small talk wasn’t her best strength but, it worked, with a hi hello and how are you she was actually speaking with some people until someone grabbed her shoulders from behind

— FUCK what HUH?! — she shouted looking behind at a now startled pietas — He-Hey! Relax ripley! Just me! — Pietas was with the untucked office shirt and suspenders she wore daily. with the addition of little Reindeer Ears and Horns in a headband in front of her actual horns

— God DAMN it you KNOW i don’t like being touched — Ripley said accusatorily

— I know! i know sorry just, party got a bit to me you know — pietas responded with her voice weaker

With a hand through the hair to straighten everything out, Ripley sighed and looked back at the teal — No No. i Get it it’s not every day i come to these things —

Between small talk and little conversation nothing went anywhere, it was an office party afterall, not that she had been to any, legitimately without a clue of anything she drank the punch like it was water, maybe some courage potion could fix her, but it only had her looking worse when trolls started to leave for their hives. she and pietas remained talking

—What. Do you mean you can lift a hundred and eighty pounds?! — ripley looked shocked by the information

— Oh that’s just on a bench press, if we’re talking deadlift I can go to Two Fifty — Pietas said like it was nothing as ripley’s jaw dropped.

— YOU COULD LIFT ME UP WHAT THE FUCK — the pinkblood said loudly, and both drunken minds took it as an invitation. as pietas lifted ripley up with her hands under ripley’s shoulders like it was nothing — Like a couple of' grapes — Thank the messiahs the pink on ripley’s face could be said to be due to the alcohol

After more talking they were left to close and leave. both alcoholized enough to not be able to drive, ripley blurted out the best/worst idea she ever had. — Let’s go to my hive! ‘s closer than yours and we save on the fare! — and. Ripley instantly smacked her own face after that one, she couldn’t make more obvious what she was thinking as Pietas nodded and called their cab. Locking the building up was easy, just the front door the janitors had gotten to everything else. with a cup of punch in her hand standing outside in the soft sheet of white that covered the ground. Ripley chugged the last bit of her drink. The alcohol from all the other cups she drank over the night had basically accumulated at the bottom and it tasted like a kiss from a fireplace. Hot and uncomfortable, but it gave her a bit of courage to think up a plan.

The cab arrived and they went in. windows closed looking at the frost taking over the glass, pietas was smiling as she always was and ripley couldn’t stop staring, her eyes looked like pools that she wouldn’t mind drowning in. her lips were slightly teal because of the cold, as were her cheeks. And nothing could make this better of a night.

As some time passed they stopped in front of Ripley’s hive, an opulent display of the wealth that she had simply for being a fuchsia-blood, The gates had her initials in them which had pietas staring. She opened them and started the walk. The way was frosty but not slippery, clutching her own arms to deal with the cold. Ripley's teeth were chattering while Pietas was just fine, with her sleeves rolled up even. Only to mess with Ripley's head on how amazing the other was.

Fumbling with the keys the door eventually got open as she went in and pulled pietas with. The hive was warmer than the outside, Ripley grabbed the controller for the hive’s temperature and cranked it higher. As she walked deeper towards the kitchen taking her blazer off, pietas followed looking, it was a feeling both shared in thinking the other was the epitome of beauty in the moments they stood together for longer than the passing conversation

— I don’t have anything too good, but there’s wine in the fridge if you want some — Ripley said, lighting the kitchen lights with a clap and getting some water to drink. as pietas got from one of the decorations from the last sweep a santa hat

—Didn’t know you were the festive type! — these words came out alongside a chuckle from both of them — C’mon that’s from the last sweep! — Ripley responded smiling until she looked somber —My ex helped me put that stuff up. — she said, kind of dampening the whole mood as pietas took the chance to lift stuff up — Well I’ll help you put the new ones in and you can forget about that dirtbag! — she said with a smile

Ripley would take a while to forget about that stupid guy who had her heart in clutches and. Feelings were still had but the sentiment was good, leaving someone behind for the good of both is better than nursing a relationship that will never get better. and she knew that, but she could feel sad for what she lost. In either way, at the thought of putting up decorations alongside pietas brought a smile to her face

— Yeah sure. Just don’t let me fall when you’re holding the stairs like when we were putting up the picture frame on my office — she said with another chuckle from both of them

— Well… No time better than now! or, when we’re both less drunk — pietas chimed in before opening the fridge up and taking out leftover pizza — OH HEY, we could Totally eat this and watch a movie. Leftover pizza is better than the one you get on the same day I know that right? — Pietas said again while ripley was drinking her water to hide her face fuck she has a sweet smile, and those reindeer ears don’t make it any less adorable.

Within the hour Ripley had gotten everything together as Pietas was trying to figure out how to use the microwave that the hive had. the buttons weren’t making any sense, the thing didn’t turn on properly everything was so weird.

As the pink-blood came back to the kitchen. snapping her fingers and issuing the voice controlled microwave to heat the pizza for a minute — C’mon you can’t be THAT slow to not have figured it out — Ripley said handing over a pair of lighter clothes to pietas. —Now go change. I already deal with far too much work. I don't need to see you looking like you’re about to give me five clients — Her voice was commanding as she herself was already wearing sweatpants and a looser shirt. With the movement of a light run to the other room, Ripley stared at pietas all the way before putting a cup of coffee for herself. might make the pizza taste funny but she genuinely doesn’t care. as pietas comes back she looks down — Uh… What does the D.J. Stand for, in this? — she pulls Ripley ex’s initials sewn into the shirt. —Don’t, Worry about it! just a random thing that was in when i bought it — she lies before sipping more coffee.

Before they slept on the couch. Ripley mentioned in tired words

— You’re a real ray of sunshine y’know that pietas —

The rest of the night is spent watching a random movie from Ripley's extensive horror movie collection. eating leftover heated pizza, and drinking some more of Ripley's booze. Maybe this wasn’t what she thought it’d be, there’s no heat, no passion, nothing spicy occurring. but it remains somehow better than that.

#Ripley #Testing Scales #<- temporary Ship Name

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blog-imtsupdates · 10 months

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week 9

having a lot of trouble trying to get the mesh to a poly count where i can add detail. the mesh kept giving me small artifacts. after getting it so that that wouldnt happen anymore, my program kept crashing allowing me to lose significant progress multiple times over despite trying to remeber to save more frequently.

at this point the whole file wouldnt open anymore. i had managed to export the mesh and open it in blender so i could atleast take screen shots of the progress i had made but safe to say my computer does not have the hardware to make highly detailed sculpts. I am going to try to remesh the more detailed mesh and see if i have better luck adding detail in blender. I want this mesh to be grotesque and i need detail for that.

I had re done the lower jaw atleast 6 or so times and still no luck as it kept crashig either before or during saving/exporting the mesh.

I have had Zbrush crash upwards of twenty times, blender crashed five times and my entire computer shut down seven or more times. Ive lost track.

ive had quite a rough week, i am making progress and i keep working but its worth mention this does not help with morale.

on friday i decided to start doing "detail work" in blender using an older version of the mesh that i had remeshed to have lower poly count.

Ive watched quite a lot of videos on sculpting and all of the detailed sculpts are very high poly very quickly so i really didnt expect this to be that much of a problem. A lot of these vidoes were busts but it should still be posible to make a detailed model.

I was incredebly unhappy with how little detail i could get in and concidered painting over the normal map to just draw on the detail instead but was really worried that would take far too long and would get really confusing. (the most detailed I could get it shown here v smooth shading applied because it was horrendous)

i kept trying to open the higher poly files in zbrush and blender because i really wanted that sculpted detail but the programs wouldnt budge and my computer crashed another two times. Until it didnt!

I dont know what i did differently but suddenly it worked again. I was so exctatic that i could finally do some proper work that i ended up working through the weekend to atleast finish up the details in the face, started the teeth, and started with some more definition on the body.

getting to the more detailed work is great i get to refrence a coupe of folks i found on youtube https://www.artstation.com/chrismasna https://www.artstation.com/joanna_kobierska/albums/1907802 have some incredible work, im trying to do that but more vein-y. i am also refrencing the way coolio art was sculping the feet on one of his models because they are very cool and wrinkly https://x.com/Coolio_Art/status/1724144572903616535?s=20

I do feel rushed and i dont get to work in all the detail i want or the adjustments i want to make because of the limited time we would have for animation if i take much longer. the model will be mostly shrouded in darkeness so it should be ok and animation is very very important for conveying the animal and the scares so it needs time.

some more videos i watched while working on the sculpt: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-QoLorR9qpY https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bgnq1jDYMmw

I have found a video on the work flow for cinematic animation

youtube

it look liek the retoplology that is done on modles is still very high poly because its all pre rendered anyway. im still going to look into it more as i clearly dont have strong enough of a computer but maybe someone has found a solution for independent artists that want to create animations that arent for games.

this one is on weigth painting, i dont know if ill be doing that but last time i made a model i had trouble with this so this was usefull incase i do have to weight paint https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EaVG_KOKRnA also preperation for retopology and what to look out for when i get to that

and ofcouse

a cost calculation

hourly pay / hours spent up until the midterm / mid term cost

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sheacouleecametoslay · 2 years

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Season 8 (2016)

This might be an unpopular opinion, but I preferred Season 7 over Season 8. I just don't care about 50% of this cast, although luckily they're the first 6 boots. The fact that there was a Double Sashay Away says it all. Naysha Lopez didn't need to be brought back either. Plus Acid and Robbie don't come across as natural villains, although Derrick definitely does. Also, this is basically just Bob's coronation season. The runways were stronger the previous year. The Shade Tree twist was a gigantic flop. Untucked was pretty boring aside from a few moments, like Naysha getting annoyed at Chi Chi. And I think Season 8 suffers from being too short - it feels like a mini-season. And it's kind of a forgettable season. On the bright side, I will say that the judging seems fairer this time. The only challenge winner I disagreed with was the Book Ball. Speaking of that Book Ball, the baby and the mama themes were whatever, but the last category had some strong looks. The challenges were better overall though, and there's some talented queens here. The "Empire" parodies were so funny. "Bitch Perfect" was one of the better Rusicals. The Snatch Game wasn't my favourite, but Bob saves it. It's also the Snatch Game where Ru got mad at the celebrity guests' answers. The Final 6 once again forces the pairs with the most drama to work together for the policital advert. We really gotta do these political challenges every 4 seasons huh? So the cast size was shrunk down because the producers needed exactly 12 more contestants to reach a series total of 100; with Derrick Barry being that 100th queen to enter the Werk Room. The premiere was also the 100th episode, so it was a milestone episode. To commemorate this, the photoshoot incoperated the previous winners, excluding Bianca who was replaced by a clown. While the first maxi-challenge was a greatest hits collection of all the past design challenges. The rollerskate runway was interesting. The Madonna runway was a notorious flop. Season 8 had some drama too. Episode 5 starts off with Bob and Derrick trying to out-read each other. The Final 5 involves an explosion between Derrick and Naomi. Thorgy becomes fixated on Bob as the season progresses. And Acid tries to undermine Chi Chi in Episode 2. But once Derrick was gone, that final 4 was so friendly with each other lol. Also, "Rectangle girls of the world" is now stuck in my head.

Queens Ranking: 12. Acid Betty Acid was too deliberate as a villain... I want reality TV conflict to at least *seem* believable. She was just a villain for the sake of being a villain. She called the previous winners "wannabe drag queens", she disliked Trixie's make-up, she said Snatch Game sucks, she talked back to the judges, and she played mind games in the singing challenge. She also fought with team leader Chi Chi in episode 2 because Chi Chi wasn't prioritizing the choreo. The funniest part was Jamal Sims saying she's a team player. But it just felt like Acid was stirring the pot because she could; while displaying this devious smirk all season and being condescending. In her final episode, she talked about being ostracized in the drag scene, but Thorgy's comments at the start of the season made it sound like she brought it on herself. Anyways, Acid was actually a contender here. Her Money Ball look was well-made, she gave all those faces in the Rusical, and her multiple personality acting in "Empire" was good. She also brought a unique acid trip aesthetic to the runway, as seen in her neon and roller girl looks. The spider headpiece one was memorable too. But then she had no jokes as Nancy Grace in Snatch Game, and that was that. 11. Naysha Lopez Should've stayed a first boot. Naysha was both bland and unhappy. In the premiere, her intro didn't tell us who she is, she whined about having to do a sewing challenge, and she talked about pageants. Her Drag on a Dime look was horrendous too, and it was the first garment she ever made. Upon her return, she initially miscast roles as a team leader. She was fine in that "Empire" sketch though. Then next episode, she came up with the shapes idea, got mad at Acid for giving an opinion on the shapes idea, and got annoyed at Chi Chi interrupting her judges critique. While in the actual performance, one of Naysha's "rectangle girls of the world" was out of sync. In the lip syncs, she did a bunch of clapping for "Applause" and a bunch of cartwheels for "Call Me"; with her wig falling off in the latter. 10. Robbie Turner I was ready to rank Robbie down here before I even knew about the Uber driver hoax. She spent the season giving these vicious remarks in confessional ("I'm gonna tell you a story about flats. No."). She also tried to come for Sh*ron during the photoshoot. But she lacked charisma to pull it off. Her drag style was inspired by old Hollywood, but none of her looks wowed me. She wore some lingerie in her entrance and she bombed both design challenges. She forgot to pick a theme for herself in the first one and in the end, her Bitch Ball look had no shape - she should've been bottom 2 for that. While her Cowardly Lion Makeover just looked like a bunch of fabric slapped together. As for the performance challenges, Robbie was up and down. She was funny in the Rusical, but her multiple personalities in "Empire" were off; despite her being an actress. Then her punk rock voice won the singing challenge, but her Diana Vreeland in Snatch Game was forgettable. She also lip synced on rollerblades; breaking a light and falling off stage in the process. While in her second lip sync, she made the game-ending mistake of taking her wig off. 9. Laila McQueen Laila's "gothy rockstar" style could've been interesting, but her storyline was that she lacked self-confidence. She basically crawled into a ball for the photoshoot. I didn't think her first runway was that bad though? And she showed fight in the first lip sync with the sexy poses on the floor and headbanging her wig around. In the next episode, she was salty about being in the bottom 2 over some other queens. So she needed to prove herself in the Rusical to stand out from the pack... which she completely failed to do. Her role was pretty forgettable. I also didn't like her green sea Movie Premiere outfit. And then her second lip sync performance didn't match the song, where she stripped down to "I Will Survive"... CRINGE. 8. Dax ExclamationPoint Much like Laila, I had hopes for Dax's cosplaying, superhero inspired looks. But she never delivered. That Hello Kitty thing looked tacky and her Movie Premiere dress was whatever. In the Rusical, Dax overthought in rehearsal and didn't practice overnight, and she wasn't even trying in the final performance. She "won" the lip sync, but her removing the yellow part of her dress and twirling it around was pointless. As if she was thinking "oh Laila did a tearaway I should do one too!" 💀 Otherwise, Dax found her confidence through drag. She was shady when commenting on Derrick's runway and shady when forgetting Laila's name. She also got upset that no one told her that her butt padding was bad! That's about all I got. 7. Cynthia Lee Fontaine "Her landmark verdict of legalizing sex" lol. I was surprised that Cynthia won Miss C since she left so early. I guess that's why they brought her back for Season 9. She had a smaller presence on Season 8 though. From the start, I got the impression that she was this high energy chatterbox that keeps saying "cucu". But then on Untucked, Bob and Naomi commented on how likeable Cynthia is, and yeah I agree she's likeable enough. Her runways weren't the most polished though. In the first episode, she glued some candy to a bodice and it looked messy at the bottom. And her basic cowgirl outfit in episode 3 was picked apart by everyone. Still, Cynthia had good energy in the Rusical... and kicked her shoe towards a ceiling light. But then she didn't understand her characterization in the "Empire" challenge. She fought in that lip synch against Robbie though. 6. Thorgy Thor She's a talented queen, she's an artist, and she was an early contender. But Thorgy kind of spiraled as the season went on. She had a very strong start - that red cake dress should've been top 3, she was a stand-out in the Rusical, and she would've 1000% won the "Empire" challenge if Bob wasn't on the season. And it was that challenge loss in particular that got to her. Thorgy was obsessed with Bob from that point on, feeling like she was playing second fiddle to her. It happened again in Snatch Game, where Thorgy threw out some dark jokes as Michael Jackson, but it wasn't enough to beat Bob. She also clashed with Bob in the singing challenge, believing that she knew what she was doing with songwriting. And towards the end, Thorgy got annoyed at Chi Chi slacking off in the Makeover, and was confident that Chi Chi and Derrick were the next to go. I think Thorgy was a little too serious and pushed the bar too high for herself. Her ultimate undoing was the political ad, where she was too scatterbrained and the end result was lacking. Otherwise, Thorgy's mother's death story was emotional. 5. Derrick Barry Delusional and oblivious. Derrick was the villain, but a cringey one at times. She thought twerking would give her soul. She gloated about Blondie wanting to take her on tour. She said "whassup" to Faith Evans. Her Laura Bell-Bundy was cringe. Her "Empire" singing was disconnected. She was proud of her floppy shoulder Makeover because it was sewn. She asked Kim Chi if she was from North or South Korea. She acted like her ugly book outfit could go in the "RuPaul museum". She drew on Tammie Brown eyebrows after being told to change them. And she thought she was named as someone who should go home tonight because the queens were threatened by her. Derrick needed to prove that she was more than just a Britney Spears impersonator, but she refused to do a style that wasn't her. She did a Britney-inspired look for the first runway, where she trimmed a crotch wreath and that somehow put her top 3. Her neon runway was Britney-esque. And she did Britney in Snatch Game, but I didn't laugh that much. Derrick also had this way of inserting herself into conversations to make herself the center of attention. She got into arguments with Bob, Chi Chi, and Naomi. Her ultimate undoing was the Book Ball, where she was the worst. My fave runway was the Madonna sleeve one. 4. Naomi Smalls Naomi was friendly and chill, with this sort-of smitten-like personality? Idk if that's the right word. She was one of the quieter presences in the cast until she got pulled into a huge fight with Derrick at the Final 5, where she tried to give Derrick a reality check. But I wouldn't call her "dry" necessarily - she threw some shade. Naomi had an interest in supermodels and knew how to sell sex on the runway. She did exactly that in her lip sync that sent Acid Betty packing. She also copied Willam by stepping out of the Pride Boat to show herself off lol. And she looked fierce in the Rusical. Naomi could construct high fashion too - the scarecrow (which 100% deserved the Makeover win) and the crumpled book (which should've won the Book Ball). I also liked her Raven-inspired runway. During the season, Naomi wanted to prove she was more versatile. That she wasn't just a model. I mean, she didn't embody Tiffany Pollard at all in Snatch Game. But I thought she did good in "Empire" and the political ad (where she played a stereotypical model). 3. Kim Chi "Donut come for me". She's just so sweet, sensitive and soft-spoken. She had this gentle way of talking. She was finding her self-confidence. And she was scared of letting her mom down, who didn't know she did drag. On the runway, Kim Chi served artistic looks with a story behind them. Her cat Hair Ball thing won the first episode. She did that whole broom/slapping routine in the Makeover. And she won the Book Ball with a flower analogy. She also had the toucan feathers on rollerblades, the face paint in neon, the mime in black-and-white, the black feathers at the top 4. And whenever there was a challenge that wasn't up Kim's alley, she still kept a good attitude and tried her best. She camped it up in the Rusical to cover up her lack of choreo (she was even falling in rehearsal). She gave a very weird performance in "Empire" (those tongue pops) since she didn't have acting experience. She was funny in Naomi's political ad, while basing her own ad around things she's discriminated for. And her Kim Jong-Un in Snatch Game was good but glossed over. 2. Bob The Drag Queen "Walk into the room purse first." The sheer amount of confidence is off the charts. Bob never took things seriously - she was having the time of her life on her favourite TV show. Right from the start, Bob walked in with the "UNT" outfit and swam on the table. She talked her way into getting the "party" song for her team. She constantly gave observations about the other queens in confessional. She got into conflicts with Thorgy, Derrick, and even Luciane Piane at one point; where she didn't understand Luciane's notes and insulted Lorde. She gave a fun lip sync at the Final 5. And Bob hogged the spotlight in every comedy challenge. Her "Empire" performance might just be the funniest thing in Drag Race herstory; that's when her winner's edit came alive. She did two characters in Snatch Game. And the humour in her political ad was well-delivered; she also a goofball in Derrick's ad. As the season went on, the other queens wanted Bob to fail. She did stumble... in rollerblades. And in the design challenges. Well, the curtain one was good, but the Makeover was rushed, and the Book Ball outfit didn't use books. The power suit was also meh. My fave runway of hers is the black-and-white joker. Otherwise, she had an emotional moment about his mom. 1. Chi Chi DeVayne (RIP) The Lip Sync Assassin of Season 8. She gave EVERYTHING she had in both of them; between the stunts in "Call Me" and the intensity of "And I Am Telling...", culminating in that bead explosion. Chi Chi brought charm. She was genuine. She was the type to say whatever was on her mind. She'd read a queen with a smile on her face. She was a "broke queen" who survived gangs. She even wore garbage bags in her entrance. Throughout the season, Chi Chi had to learn to not let her lack of funds be an obstacle on the runway. Michelle gave her advice in a touching moment. Chi Chi was also ashamed of where she came from and how she talked. But there was nothing to be ashamed of! In the challenges, she was the star of the Rusical thanks to the upside down lip syncing. Her Eartha Kitt cat jokes in Snatch Game were so weird that it worked. Her political ad had jokes, even if she was too soft on Thorgy. Her Bob puppet was hilarious. And she proved she could deliver a great runway with the shredded book look. Her Top 4 outfit was pretty too. Chi Chi's roughest moment was the singing challenge, where she distanced herself in the Werk Room, her team wasn't crazy about her shape costumes idea, and her/Naysha gave a messy performance. Favourite entrance: Kim Chi Challenge ranking: 1. "Empire" parodies (Acting) 2. "Bitch Perfect" (Rusical) 3. Presidential campaign adverts 4. Book Ball 5. Past season design challenges 6. Snatch Game 7. New Wave girl groups 8. "The Realness" Music Video 9. "Little Women: L.A." Makeover Lip Sync ranking: 1. Chi Chi DeVayne vs Thorgy Thor ("And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going") 2. Chi Chi DeVayne vs Naysha Lopez ("Call Me") (very nearly put this #1) 3. Cynthia Lee Fontaine vs Robbie Turner ("Mesmerized") 4. Bob The Drag Queen vs Derrick Barry ("You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)") 5. Laila McQueen vs Naysha Lopez ("Applause") (doesn't get good until the bridge) 6. Acid Betty vs Naomi Smalls ("Causing a Commotion") 7. Derrick Barry vs Robbie Turner ("I Love It") 8. Top 4 Lip Sync ("The Realness") 9. Dax ExclamationPoint vs Laila McQueen ("I Will Survive") (when they bump into each other... when they start tearing their clothes off...) Season ranking so far: 5 > 6 > 4 > 2 > 7 > 3 > 8 > 1 > AS1

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bowandcurtsey · 3 years

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Hi! I really like your work and it's my first time requesting something so I'm really nervous (ó﹏ò｡) I feel guilty for requesting since you already have 28 ("｡>ㅅ<｡) but I came up with an idea and I couldn't help it! So how about a headcanon of William, Yami, Julius, and Novel reacting to s/o who likes to draw them all the time? you don't have to do it tho, its fine! Sorry if it's not clear, hope you have a great day, thanks! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

Hello bby, don't feel guilty about the requests haha! As long as you guys are willing to wait, then just send you requests in, I'll get to them eventually, and look, here we are now! :3

Thank you for requesting this Anony, it was pretty fun to do! hehe!

William | Yami | Julius | Nozel x f! reader

William Vangeance

The very first time when you asked if you could draw him, he was honoured.

But when he watched you draw, you looked like you were so in peace; your breathing calm and steady, your eyes sparkled, your lips tugging up into a slight curl.

What's more, you were drawing him. It made his lips perk up too.

Subsequently, you would just draw him as and when you liked, and you did it often. He'd just let you indulge in your passion and his face would flush a little, seeing how you were so delighted to draw him.

Whenever he glanced over to you, and you were holding your sketch book and pencil, his lips would voluntarily turn into a smile, knowing you were drawing him again.

You had countless drawings of him, but you didn't let him keep any, because it was "for me to capture all the memories I have of you so I can look back at them when you're out on missions!"

His face flushed at your words as he patted your head, not knowing what to say.

Yami Sukehiro

"Whaddya doing baby?" He came over to look at your sketch pad one day and upon realising that you were making a sketch of him, he gave you that shit eating smirk.

"Heh, can't get enough of me?"

You had to roll your eyes a little but you grinned cheekily, "sit still and read your papers!"

"I'm distracted now that you're staring at me" his smirk never left his face.

You eventually had to draw him sitting in his lap.

Subsequently, after he got used to him drawing you, he was a little more indifferent but he was always proud whenever he heard someone say "y/n you're drawing Yami again??"

Yami could also do simple sketches himself, so you both tend to discuss about the drawings that you did.

He would tease you sometimes, saying that his nose looked better than that, or you drew his face too round, and when you did a little pout, he would hold you close and told you he liked it either way.

He'll notice small details like the shading was nice or the proportion was good etc because he really paid proper attention to it.

Julius Novachrono

Being the drama king he was, he flashed you his signature sparkly eyed face when you asked to draw his portrait.

He'll be pretty excited and he'll sit in different poses for you, "Will this do? Which angle would you like?"

Marx would lament that he should be doing his paperwork instead of sitting / standing there to be your model but you told Julius you wanted to draw him in a natural state, so he could continue doing his paperwork while you sketched him.

He pouted a little, unhappy that he could not get away with his paperwork for just a moment.

When you were done, he was so impressed, your drawing of him was perfect.

Subsequently when he found out you had this habit to draw him, he was even more elated. He would happily sit and and let you draw all you want, much to Marx happiness, because that would mean for the time you were drawing, he would be obedient and do his work.

He would beg you to let him keep one or two of your drawings of him, just so he could show off to the world and keep one in his office.

Nozel Silva

Man would scoff when you first said you wanted to draw him initially. Upon seeing your sulk, he would relent, "Just make sure it wouldn't disturb me at work.."

When you were done, you showed him your work and his face looked impressed, but he just mumbled a 'not bad'

He was secretly pleased of your work and he thought that it was marvelous.

His ego boosted when he realised you liked drawing him. He would pretend not to care, but he would always make sure nobody was blocking you from your view of him.

"You. Sit on the chair while I talk."

The guard was dumbfounded, "S-sir silva.... I could not- "

"Just sit."

Once, he saw you making a sketch of Fuegoleon and Salamander and he was grumpy and pouty the entire day. He purposely rode his mercury Eagle in front of you multiple times.

When you asked him why he was being so grumpy, he would deny and he would look at your previous sketches and realised that you had drawn multiple drawings of him and his eagle before.

He was relax a little and his heart would swell with pride. -end-

#black clover scenarios #black clover headcanons #black clover imagine #black clover imagines #black clover fanfiction #black clover x reader #black clover x you #black clover x y/n #william vangeance x reader #julius novachrono x reader #yami x reader #yami sukehiro x reader #nozel x reader #nozel silva x reader #nozel imagine

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the-lonelybarricade · 3 years

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I totally stole this from one of those writing prompt blogs, but can you do Rhys and Feyre going to couples therapy together as a joke when they only just met?

Okay my love, I literally just finished writing this and haven't actually proofread it. It was meant to be silly and jokey but ended up being a bit more serious than I intended, but I'm a sucker for fake dating tropes so maybe I'll continue their story at some point. Anyway here's a modern Feyre and Rhys going to couples thereapy together (whilst not actually being a couple):

Feyre was absolutely determined to prove Nesta wrong. Usually her sister’s grating comments didn’t penetrate Feyre’s hardened demeanor at home, but something about their stint yesterday had thoroughly gotten under her skin. Nesta had a talent when it came to barbed words, so it was the casualness with which she’d said Feyre was boring and predictable that had kept the words ringing between Feyre’s ears. They lacked the usual bite and venom that was characteristic of Nesta, and somehow that made them impossibly worse.

Was Feyre a creature of habit? Sure. But she had always been content with her quiet, unassuming life. They’d grown up poor, with little luxury, and as a little girl Feyre had always believed all she’d need to be happy was paint supplies and enough time to get lost in a blank canvas. Feyre had that now, and she was happy. She spent almost every day in her studio, a paintbrush in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. And that was fine. She may not spend a lot of time with other people, but that was fine.

Routine is fine. Being focused on your career is fine. So why did the implication that her life is stagnant rile her up so much?

Feyre couldn’t articulate what, exactly, had bothered her so much, since she was perfectly happy with the current state of her life. Yet the next morning she’d woken up, vowing to take a day off and spend the whole day being entirely unpredictable.

She was going to pull a Jim Carrey in Yes Man. She was going to seize this damn day. And any voice in her mind that pleaded her to stick to her comfort zone was going to be diligently ignored.

When she set out to get her morning coffee, she ducked into the first cafe she came across without checking the reviews. And instead of ordering her usual chai latte, she asked the cashier to make her their favorite drink. She sat at a booth and sipped it experimentally. It was sweet and tasted of caramel; she decided she quite liked it. So far so good.

She sat wondering what brave venture she should do next, something that would be worthy of telling people about. Something so brash and crazy and unexpected Nesta would eat her stupid, truthful words.

“Mind if I take this seat?”

The voice was like smooth velvet. Feyre glanced up to meet a pair of eyes that were such a deep, peculiar shade of blue they almost looked violet. She was momentarily stunned speechless, which caused the impossibly handsome stranger to lift one of his perfectly groomed brows in question.

“Of course,” Feyre answered, her mouth feeling a bit dry. She quickly took a sip of her coffee to quell this strong reaction her body was having to this man.

She’d been expecting him to take the chair to sit elsewhere, but he slid into the chair at her table, directly across from her. Feyre spared a cursory glance around the cafe. Customers milled about, but there were plenty of empty seats strewn here and there. It was far from necessary to share a table with a stranger.

Her interest piqued, Feyre turned her attention back to this strange, alluring man.

“I’m Feyre,” she said, sounding much more confident than she felt. But today was about branching out of her comfort zone. Making the first move with an attractive man certainly qualified.

“Rhysand,” he answered with a charming grin, extending his hand into the space between them. Feyre accepted it with a mirrored smile, for a moment marvelling at the way his hand completely enveloped hers.

Feyre cleared her throat. “So tell me, Rhysand, what brings you to this table in particular?”

The way he wrinkled his nose was unfairly endearing. “Call me Rhys,” he said. “I only really use Rhysand in a business setting. And I chose this table in particular, because I saw a beautiful woman sitting here and was feeling especially forward.”

Feyre laughed in surprise. “Forward, indeed. Well, Rhys, I have spectacular news for you.”

“And what’s that, Feyre darling?” the suggestive tone to his voice sent shivers down her spine and instantly those warning bells in her mind were blaring. This man was too handsome and he was a complete stranger.

“I’ve decided to do something completely stupid and spontaneous today, and you’re officially invited to join me.”

Rhysand grinned, his eyes flickering with mischief at her proposal. She supposed that should be concerning, too, but she felt her pulse quicken. “And what stupid, spontaenous thing will we be doing, darling?”

Feyre leaned back, trying to regain composure by taking a too casual sip of her coffee. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m open to ideas.”

Across the cafe, a man stood up so quickly his chair tipped over with a loud thunk. Rhys and Feyre both whirled their heads at the commotion.

“This is why we need to go to therapy together!” the woman across from him screeched. “You can’t control your stupid temper!”

“I don’t have time for this shit,” he growled. “I’m not going to sit there for an hour so you can manipulate some dumb bitch into agreeing with you!”

“It’s not about sides,” she groaned. “I want to work through this with you!”

Feyre felt a tug of sympathy at the desperation in the woman’s voice. She could feel her pain and frustration second-hand, having been in similar shoes herself.

“Fuck this,” the man grumbled, storming for the door.

The woman followed after him. “Our appointment is in 10 minutes! Please, let’s just try it.”

The door swung shut behind them. Feyre watched the couple continue their walking argument down the city pavement, gesturing wildly with their hands.

Feyre sighed. “Man, that poor woman. It sounded like she really wanted to work things out.”

“That guy sounded like an absolute ass, maybe it’s for the best,” Rhys said. Then, his eyes lit up and he turned to Feyre with a slow, conspiring grin. “It does give me an idea, though.”

“What’s that?” Feyre felt a bit intimidated by the roguish expression on his face, even if it did make her feel breathless.

“Well, I do happen to know there’s a psychiatrist's office right above this cafe. If I had to guess, that’s where our friends were going to have their first session. And from the looks of it,” he nodded towards the couple, who were now striding in opposite directions through the city, faces flushed with anger, “they won’t be attending.”

“And your point is…?”

“Let’s go in their stead. Make a game of it. First person to break character loses.”

“And what does the winner get?”

“Well, if I win, then I get to take you to dinner.”

Feyre considered for a moment. Dinner with a handsome man certainly didn’t sound like losing to her. “If I win, then I get to use you as a model.”

“You’re a photographer?” His brows rose in interest and Feyre summoned all her will power not to blush. Since when was she bashful about her career?

“Painter.”

Rhysand grinned. “If you win, you can use my body anyway you wish, Feyre darling. Nude would be best.”

And that was how Feyre had ended up in Dr. Suriel’s office, Rhys by her side on the sofa. It was perhaps the most adventurous thing she’d ever agreed to.

“So, Mr and Mrs Mandray. Apologies, I didn’t get your names on the forms.”

“I’m Feyre, this is my husband Rhys,” Feyre answered, thinking it lucky they didn’t have to guess at the mysterious couple’s forenames.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Feyre and Rhys. What brings you to my office today?”

Rhys immediately slipped into his role of the concerned husband. He placed his arm around Feyre’s shoulders and tugged her close. Rhys opened his mouth, then shut it, glancing at Feyre hesitantly.

“My wife and I have been getting into a lot of… disagreement lately,” Rhys answered carefully, and already Feyre thought this was going much better than it would have if the actual Mr Mandray had turned up.

“My husband,” Feyre said flatly, channeling her inner Nesta to put venom into the word. “Is insisting on painting our house purple.”

“I see,” Dr. Suriel says, assessing the displeasure on Feyre’s face. “And I’m assuming you want to paint the house a different color.”

Feyre pressed her lips into a thin line. “See, that’s just the problem,” she said, crossing her arms. “That’s exactly the color I would want to paint our house.”

Dr. Suriel frowned. “So you do want the house to be painted purple, as does your husband. Am I understanding that correctly?”

“No,” Feyre sighed. “He wants to paint the house blue, but is insisting we paint it purple, because he knows it’s what I want. This bastard refuses to be anything but accommodating.”

“We’re going to try to refrain from name-calling in my office,” Dr Suriel said calmly. “So, Feyre, you are clearly unhappy that Rhys wants to paint the house purple. What color would you paint it?”

“Blue,” she answered. “I know it’s what he secretly wants to paint it.”

“She doesn’t see the hypocrisy in what she's saying!” Rhys complained. Then, he turned to Feyre, looking impossibly serious. “Darling, I know you want to paint the house purple, and I already told you I’m fine with it.”

Feyre groaned. “I don’t want to paint the house purple! I want to paint it blue.”

“You’re only saying that because you think I want to paint the house blue.”

“Do you?”

Rhys hesitated. “No.”

“Don’t lie in front of our therapist,” Feyre said with narrowed eyes. “We promised to tell the truth while we’re here.”

“Then you tell me the truth, Feyre. Do you genuinely want the house to be painted blue?”

Now it was Feyre’s turn to hesitate. She could see the corner of Rhysand’s mouth twitch as she did so. “No. I mean yes! I do!”

“It sounds like at the heart of this argument, you are both ultimately concerned in pleasing the other person, is that fair to say?”

Feyre and Rhys glanced at each other, then nodded in agreement.

“Do you think there’s a color you could both compromise on, so that you don’t feel as if your partner is the only one making a sacrifice in this decision?”

Feyre met Rhysand’s brilliant violet eyes. In truth, she’d blurted the color purple because she’d been thinking about the color of his eyes. She'd never seen eyes that color, and they were wonderfully vivid. Feyre was lost thinking of painting a world in a monocrhome of violet, like a city that lived within his gaze.

Feyre realized she’d been momentarily swept away, snapped out of it by the humor that washed behind those starry irises. She blinked back the haze and tried to think of an answer to the question.

“Mustard yellow?” she proposed.

Rhys pursed his lips in mock consideration. “Mustard yellow,” he agreed with an emphatic nod of approval.

Dr. Suriel blinked in surprise. “All right, well I’m pleased we could solve that issue. Is there anything else you’ve been arguing about?”

“Yeah, actually. My wife,” Rhys gave Feyre a pointed glance. Somehow, despite being strangers, hearing Rhys refer to her as his wife sent waves of pleasure jolting through her. She felt her stomach flip on itself. “Isn’t satisfied with our sex life.”

Feyre instantly flushed at such an accusation, however fabricated.

“Is this true, Feyre?” Dr. Suriel turned her eyes towards Feyre and she shifted uncomfortably at having to make up stories about her sex life with Rhys. Making Feyre imagine rolling in a bed with him was certainly his goal, and she’d lie to say it wasn’t affecting her. Rhysand looked absolutely delighted to have made her squirm. Fine. Two could play at his game.

“Y-yes, well,” Feyre stuttered, the burning in her cheeks condemning. “I keep telling Rhys that 16 orgasms in a session is excessive. He’s much too generous a lover and he never lets me give as good as I get.”

Feyre felt satisfied with the way Rhysand’s face went crimson.

Dr. Suriel’s brows rose. “This seems to be a common theme in your marriage. Rhysand, would you say that you’re often prioritising Feyre’s desires over your own?”

“I think Feyre sorely underestimates how much pleasure I take from satisfying her desires,” he answered, his eyes flicking to Feyre with enough of a sensual promise that her heartbeat turned staccato.

“Rhys, it sounds as though your generosity is part of the way you express your love, is that safe to say?” Rhys nodded. “And Feyre, it seems as if you have trouble accepting your husband's generosity, both in and outside the bedroom. Do you feel that’s a fair statement?”

“I-I suppose so.”

“Sometimes people have trouble accepting their loved one’s generosity when they feel like they aren’t giving something in exchange. It can be hard to accept that kind of love when we don’t feel like we deserve it. Do you feel like this could apply to your situation?”

Feyre blinked. This was meant to be a gag, something daring and experimental. She hadn’t expected to be psychoanalyzed by Dr. Suriel, or at least for her analysis to hit so close to home.

Rhysand shifted forward on the sofa. “Is this true, darling?” he asked, sounding concerned. He took Feyre’s hands in his own, brushing his thumb along her skin as he met her gaze. “I think you deserve the world.”

She would almost think he was being genuine if she hadn’t met him only an hour ago. Feyre marked the conviction on his face, those burning pools of earnesty in his eyes, and marveled at what an incredible actor he was.

Somehow she ended up blurting part of the truth. “My family life growing up was kind of tough and I’ve never really known what unconditional love was like. I think a part of me still believes it's something I have to earn.”

“That sounds like it must have been very hard, Feyre. But it sounds like Rhys loves you very much, and that this is an issue the two of you can overcome together. When you feel the instinct to reject his generosity, try to remember where that message is coming from. And Rhysand, try to keep in mind that this is something your wife is still working through, and be patient if she feels more comfortable giving you something in exchange. This is her way of expressing love, too. At the core of your issues is both of you thinking about the other person, try to remember this when a breakdown in communication occurs.”

Somehow they’d lost control of their therapy session and were receiving actual therapy, which wasn’t part of the plan at all. But somehow, despite not actually being married to Rhysand, what Dr. Suriel said was reassuring.

Feyre turned to Rhys and smiled. “I think I understand better, now. You’re free to give me as many orgasms as you want, honey.”

Rhys grinned fiendishly. “And I’ll let you reciprocate in whatever way you feel comfortable, darling.”

Dr. Suriel clasped her hands together in approval. “Excellent. I think so long as the two of you take measures to accurately communicate your needs, you’ll find these breakdowns will occur less frequently. And that’s it for our time today, but I am happy to have the two of you back any time.”

Feyre walked out of the session hand-in-hand with Rhys, feeling a bit dazed. It had certainly gotten more serious than she’d expected, but perhaps her judgement had been misplaced in thinking therapy could be anything other than serious, no matter how joking the complaints.

“Well, that was certainly stimulating,” Rhys quipped once they’d left the office.

“And it seems we’re at a draw, considering neither of us broke character.”

“You do play my wife convincingly well,” Rhys practically purred, “perhaps I’ll let you take up the real role, if you feel so inclined.”

Feyre laughed. “I’m expecting a few other offers to come through. Give me a few days to look over the applicants, then I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay, well how’s this. I’ll give you my number, you can wait until all those applicants come back to you, and once you’ve decided that I’m clearly the obvious choice, you can call me.”

Feyre smiled as she pulled out her phone and handed it to him to insert his number. “You do make a very convincing husband. Perhaps I can hire you for weddings and Thanksgiving dinners?”

“Real husband, fake husband, a partner to do spontaneous, outrageous things with. You call me, and I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Feyre.”

It was perhaps the strangest and most generous offer she’d ever been given. When they parted ways, Feyre thought that she’d certainly filled her quota for an interesting story to tell. And maybe, most likely, she’d be calling that number very soon.

#Feysand #prompt fill #pro Rhys #pro Feyre #fake dating kind of #Feysand fic #acotar #acotar fic #ask #not proofread sorry #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction

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loving-villanelle · 2 years

Note

There's this s4 interview going around on twt where Sandra talks about Villaneve and says "I really wanted to see them come to a place of possibility. And I really hope that we got there. Jodie and I definitely got there in the playing of it and we know that we felt it so I hope it translates." Like 🥺 yes we felt it, we really did. She also says how they need each other to complete themselves and make each other grow. I mean that sounds almost like a shade because apparently the writing intention was not there so they had to make sure they do it right. They really did all the work to save what was to be saved in that shitshow. (Also Sandra talking about place of possibility so apparently she as well is pretending that the last minutes didn't happen lol)

I mean they did reach a place of possibility, as they would've been together had LN not come in with her gay-away sniper at the end.

I remember that interview and while Sandra was talking SWG looked like she wanted to spit rocks. So that was incredibly satisfying because she obviously couldn't step in and interrupt Sandra without looking completely unprofessional. I think Jodie and Sandra did the best they could. They know how long the fans have waited for Villaneve so they really gave it their all when it came to those scenes. There's only so much they can do as actresses though. Obviously the end result isn't what any of us wanted, them included.

Lauren Seal has tried to argue that Jodie and Sandra were really happy with the ending, which I know is complete bull because they themselves have talked about it and seemed completely underwhelmed and very much unhappy with it. Not to mention neither commented on the finale to promote it or since it aired. Most actresses would at least give a farewell nod to the show and their characters, they haven't which speaks volumes to me.

I think the ONLY reason Jodie and Sandra got on board with the ending is because 1) they are actresses. their job is to act out what is written for them. obviously they can give feedback, and I have no doubt they did, but at the end of the day we know that this was a writer's room that had no interest in taking outside suggestions, Kayleigh confirmed as much when she stated she tried to fight against something (one can only assume the finale) and was shot down. And 2) I think they were ready to just be done. They had fought for these characters every single year, they had to adjust to a new show runner every single year, they had to spend this season not ever being 100% sure where things were really going apparently. In one interview where they were asked if they knew from the beginning of the season if they knew how it would end they said "yes, but also no". So I think they had probably been told that one or both of them would die, but they probably didn't know who and how until it got closer to the end and by then, what can they really do other than execute the writer's vision, which again is what they are there for.

I hate the ending. I will never be okay with it. I will never be okay with the waste of talent and story and knowing what could have been. I understand this was outside of Jodie and Sandra's control and that TPTB ultimately decided on this, but god damn how do you disrespect your actresses and characters to the extent that Killing Eve did and still sleep at night?

#villaneve #jodie comer #sandra oh #killing eve

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justice4canyonmoon · 3 years

Note

I don't know if you're comfortable with this, but could you write something about fingering Harry for the first time and he really likes it and is moaning like crazy?

I originally was going to try and make this really short, but sub! harry is my favorite Harry, so it turned into a full on one-shot! I hope this is good for you!

Warnings: smut!!!! anal fingering (m receiving), oral sex (m receiving), sub! harry

WC: 1.5k

You being dominant wasn’t anything new. Whenever one of yours and Harry’s sexual escapades ended in you taking control, you both absolutely loved it. You spanked him, tied him up, edged him, called him a dirty whore, and rode him until he cried. But there was still something the two of you had never tried before.

Harry had been curious about this for a long time. One of his friends talked about how much he loved being pegged, and Harry began to wonder if he would like the feeling. He did a little research into it, even googling about male sex toys, but the strap-ons and butt plugs seemed a little too scary to him yet. He figured he should probably see if he actually liked the feeling first before he bought any of those things.

Harry brought up the topic at dinner one night. The two of you had a natural lull in conversation, and he worked up the courage to mention it.

“Darlin’, I’ve got somethin’ I need t’ ask y’.”

You put your fork down and looked at him expectantly, not totally sure where he was going with this.

He swallowed, “Have y’ ever, ehm, pegged someone? Or enjoyed doin’ it?”

You had honestly secretly been hoping he’d ask this for a while. You wanted him to be the one to bring it up so that you knew he was comfortable with the idea.

“Yes, I have. You want me to do it to you?”

“Well, sort of,” he explained, “I dunno how ready I am f’ the whole shebang since ‘ve never done it before, but I was thinkin’ maybe y’ could finger me? Just to see how it feels?”

You smiled, “Sure, baby. We can give it a try.”

Harry returned your smile, his cheeks turning a soft shade of crimson as he returned to eating the shrimp scampi you two had cooked together.

A few days later, you got the chance to try it. You could tell he was nervous, so you took your time stripping him down and pressing sweet, reassuring kisses to his lips. You had him lay on the bed and you followed, straddling his waist and continuing to kiss him, hoping to try and quell some of his nerves. You proved unsuccessful, however; when you pulled back and grabbed the lube, you could see him trembling. You faltered, not wanting to rush into things if he wasn’t ready.

“Are you sure you want this, Harry?” you asked softly.

He looked up at you, eyes slightly wide, “Y-yeah. ‘M sure. Jus’ a bit nervous, ‘s all.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind at any time, tell me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you told him.

“I will, promise,” he replied.

Happy with his response, you leaned down and kissed his forehead before trailing light kisses down his neck and chest. You weren’t planning on touching his nipples at all, but when you saw how hard they were, you took one into your mouth and tugged gently. He whimpered as you pinched its twin, rolling the nub between your fingers. You smirked, licking both of his nipples to soothe the pain before continuing your descent, pressing sloppy kisses to his abdomen until you reached his cock. You licked at the head, relishing in the whine that fell from his lips.

“Gonna suck your cock for a little to make sure you’re nice and relaxed. That sound good, honey?” you murmured.

He nodded vigorously, but a squeeze to his thigh reminded him to answer verbally, “Y-yes. Sounds s’ good.”

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered, before pushing just the head of his cock between your lips.

He moaned softly, threading his fingers into your hair; though he tugged, he knew better than to try and make you take more. The only time he’d tried that, you’d spanked him so hard he couldn’t sit the next day. You smirked at the sound, teasingly swirling your tongue around the tip, collecting the pre-cum that had begun to leak out. Soon, you took a little bit more, sinking about halfway down on his cock. You looked up at his face, but were unhappy when you saw that his eyes were squeezed shut.

You squeezed his thigh again and pulled off of his cock, “Eyes open. Want you to look at me while I’m making you feel good.”

His eyes snapped open, his forest green eyes meeting yours, “‘M sorry. I’ll keep ‘em open, promise.”

“That’s a good boy,” you crooned.

Satisfied, you swiftly took him back in your mouth, wanting to make him both as comfortable and as turned on as possible before you pushed your fingers into him. You could hear desperate whines from above you as your nose brushed his pelvis, and you thought that now might be the best time, so he didn’t cum before you even got a chance to get started.

You pulled off of him again and asked, “Are you ready, baby?”

“‘M ready,” he confirmed.

Though you could tell he was still a bit nervous, he was definitely more relaxed than before, which was a good sign. You pulled back slightly to lube up your fingers, then leaned back in and licked a stripe up his cock. You took him back into your mouth, and he gasped softly when he felt your lube-covered finger circling his rim. You looked up at him, and he nodded at you, giving you the go-ahead. So, you slowly and gently pushed your index finger inside of him. You expected him to tell you it hurt, tense up, or maybe let out some soft noises of pleasure.

You didn’t expect the guttural moan that he released.

You smirked to yourself around his cock. He fucking loved it. You thought he would, but hearing it made satisfaction hum through your veins.

“F-fuck, b-baby. It feels s’ fuckin good. P-please move,” he begged.

With his consent, you moved your finger inside of him, relishing in the breathy moans he was making. His eyes had screwed shut again, though, and you couldn’t have that. You stilled your finger inside of him and pulled off of his cock again.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your eyes open?”

Immediately, his eyes opened again, “Fuck, ‘m sorry. Jus’ felt s’ good, I couldn’t help m’self. Promise I’ll keep ‘em open, jus’ please don’ stop. Please.”

You maintained steady eye contact as you crooked your finger inside of him. He moaned loudly again, but managed to keep his eyes open. You didn’t take him back into your mouth, now knowing how much he enjoyed taking your fingers.

“Gonna add another finger, is that okay, baby?”

He nodded wildly, “Please, please, please!”

You chuckled softly, “My baby boy is a little eager now, isn’t he?”

You wanted to tease him a little bit, but decided to leave that for next time. This was new for him, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him. So, you relented and pushed your middle finger in to join your pointer, and he squeaked in pleasure. His hips ground down onto your fingers, almost of their own accord, as he cried out. You pumped your fingers in and out of him, gentle praises falling from your lips as he took you. When you crooked both of your fingers inside of him again, a stream of curses escaped his lips. If his sugary sweet moans didn’t tell you how much he was enjoying this, the way his hole was clenching around your fingers did. His cock was throbbing, and you could tell that he was close as his moans turned into pants.

“S’ c-close. P-please, may I c-cum? Need t-to s’ bad,” Harry begged, confirming your suspicions.

You nodded, bringing your free hand up to tug at his cock, “Go ahead, my love. You’ve been such a good boy, you earned it.”

That’s all it took for him to cum. His release coated your hand as he moaned your name, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You stroked his cock through his high, milking every drop.

“That’s my good boy. Look so pretty when you cum for me, Harry,” you praised, smirking at the keening sound he released at your words.

When he came down from his orgasm, you slowly removed your fingers from his hole. He whimpered softly at the newfound emptiness, already missing your fingers. You smiled and gently brushed some stray curls from his forehead, peppering sweet kisses all over his face.

“Well, guess I liked it,” Harry remarked with a dopey smile on his face.

You giggled, “Guess so. Glad you did, I’ve honestly wanted to do this with you for a while. Wanted you to bring it up, though, so I knew you’d be comfortable with it.”

“‘M definitely a bit more than ‘comfortable,’ love,” he murmured, sounding exhausted.

But then, he looked up at you with wide eyes, “‘Y didn’ cum yet, baby.”

“I can take care of it myself, Har. Know I tired you out,” you replied.

He shook his head stubbornly, “No. If ‘m here, ‘m making y’ cum. Sit on my face, love.”

And you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #request #anon #anon request #sub!harry

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years

Text

Thick And Thin (one-shot)

Synopsis: He never thought his wife would ever even think about divorce. They had problems, which is why they were at marriage counselling. But he never knew her heart had broken a long time ago. And he’d been the one to break it before they even got together.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: aaaaaaannnnggggssssttt baby, just wanted to write something that’d rip your heart out :)

Warnings: swearing, pain, kinda depressive (??), can’t think of anything else really, but please let me know if there is, also not my best work lol :D

Word count: 7102 (let’s start off the New Year with loads of pain :) )

Italics are flashbacks

“I want a divorce.”

Never in Harry’s life did he think he’d have to hear those words. Not after everything they’d been through, not after all of the effort he’d been putting in to save their relationship.

Those words had not only stunned him but their marriage councillor, the woman’s mouth open mid-word, as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Harry was fairing even worse. It was like his brain was short-circuiting, synapses broken and no longer sending any signals.

“Mrs Styles, I know it’s difficult,” the therapist tried to diffuse the situation. “But the reason you’re here is to avoid this specifically.”

“I don’t remember how you smell anymore,” Y/N continued not listening to the woman, voice like a black void, but her Y/E/C eyes rimmed with tears. “Or taste. I don’t remember how it feels to have you pressed up against me or what it’s like to hear your voice. I… I don’t have anything to cling onto anymore.”

“It’s why we're here!” he cried through clenched teeth, slipping on his knees before her, hands grasping Y/N’s in a vice-like grip. “It’s why we’re trying.”

The laugh she let out was detached and without any love. “We tried it your way, Harry.” She’d never called him Harry before. It was always Lover. “And it’s not working for me. It hasn’t from the start. We’re… we’re so unhappy. And I don’t want that for you or for me. We deserve happiness. But I don’t think we can give that to one another anymore.” She took in a shaky breath, looking down at Harry’s hands in her lap. “When I thought of it, at first I felt horrible. I wanted to throw myself off somewhere, but the more I sat on that thought, the more relieved I felt.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, didn’t want to believe it. “Relieved?” The word felt like acid in his mouth.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Relieved. Because this choice won’t make us hurt one another anymore. This gives us a chance to have a fresh start.”

“I don’t want a fresh start! We said – we said through thick and thin.” He was grasping onto the last straw he could find. “This is the thin, but we’ll get through it.”

“Harry, I already broke through the thin. And now I’m drowning. And when the thick comes, I’ll either be frozen under it and watch you walk further, or I’ll surface somewhere, and I don’t know on which side of the shore I’m gonna be on and where you’ll be. And if you try to get me, you’ll start drowning too. I don’t want that.”

“But that’s what marriage is! Going through the tough shit together!”

“Harry… I already asked Lionel to draw up the papers. The first draft is done.”

His blood froze in his veins.

“When you said to sit down and write one thing that makes me happy about the relationship,” Y/N was looking at the therapist now, “about the person, I – I couldn’t. Because I kept thinking back to the start, to the beginning. That’s what made me happy. But now…” She glanced at Harry. “If there was one thing, I couldn’t do to you, not in a moment like this, is lie. I just… I don’t remember how to be happy with you.”

***

They’d started out as the cliché of best-friends-lose-contact-only-to-be-reunited-and-not-let-their-chance-pass-by-and-fall-in-love. She was ten when she’d moved in next door to him and he was twelve when he’d seen the three vans full up to the house, a little girl hopping out from one of them. Harry watched as she rushed up the doorstep and put in a key, unlocking it and a new chapter of her life with it. Little did he know she’d unlocked a new chapter of his life as well.

She was the new kid at school, and despite the fact that he was a year above, he sat down next to her at lunch.

“ ’M ‘arry,” he said through a mouthful of a sandwich. “Saw you move in yesterday.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

And that was the start of a blooming friendship.

On her eleventh birthday, he gave her a handmade bracelet. She gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, making Harry blush all shades of pink and red.

He was thirteen when he had his first real kiss on his birthday. Y/N had simply tried to peck him on the cheek, but he’d turned his head, and her mouth had ended up on his. She’d walked away with a shy smile and ears on fire.

She was thirteen when a boy first asked her out. Harry was the first person she told him about it. That was the first time his heart broke.

When he was fifteen, he got his first girlfriend. Y/N was fourteen when her heart broke for the first time.

And then he'd gone on X-factor and with that forgotten about her. She called him, texted him, messaged him on social media, but usually, she’d maybe get only one picture or a small ‘miss you too’ as a response. So, after a whole year apart, she gave up. What was the point of trying to save anything when he didn’t want to?

He moved on and became an international superstar. Y/N moved on and graduated top of her class, got into her first-choice university, and graduated with a first as well. He had some relationships here and there, while Y/N had had a steady relationship since the second year of uni, but when she decided to go to a different one for her masters they amicably broke up.

Eight years later she was sitting at a café in London, laughing with her ex-boyfriend and catching up, as he explained how what Criminal Minds showed wasn’t really what was taught in his criminology degree classes.

“I’m still saying I dated real-life Spencer Reid,” Y/N chuckled, sipping on her gingerbread latte. “Don’t give a shit, I need something to flex with.”

Harry had then walked inside the café, shaking off the snow from his boots when a familiar laugh he hadn’t heard in ages invaded his senses. It was almost like he’d stepped into a dream.

When his green eyes befell on the owner of the voice, he had to take a double-take. Somehow in his brain, he’d expected the fifteen-year-old teenager, a t-shirt of his face on her body, as she’d cheered him on when he’d gone onto his first concert as part of One Direction to be sitting in the chair, not the grown-up woman.

He’d still checked in with Y/N through what she posted on her social media, but as much as he’d promised not to have the celebrity life sweep him away, it had. Harry sometimes had two concerts a day, and he barely had a moment to take a bite of food. And he hated to admit it, but Y/N simply slipped from his life. And he didn’t bother to put in the effort to pull her back.

A huge wave of guilt and longing rushed through his body as he glanced at the woman, her face lit up by joy as she and the man before her continued on with their conversation.

Someone tapped on his shoulder, making him turn around and face another customer. “You gonna order anything?”

For a moment Harry stuttered. He could walk away without inserting himself back into Y/N’s life, but he didn’t want that. He’d missed her. Harry didn’t even realise how much he’d missed her.

“You go ahead.” He motioned with his hand. “I’m still thinking.”

Harry took in a deep breath and then walked towards where the pair was sitting.

The man’s eyes flitted up to see who was towering over Y/N, only for them to widen, and his mouth hang open.

A sense of pride filled Harry's chest at the reaction and maybe quenched a little bit of the jealousy invading his body. He used to be the one who made Y/N laugh until she had to tell him to stop or she’d pee herself. He was back to take up the role.

“You okay there, Dan?” she chuckled. “Don’t tell me there’s a ghost behind my back. I told him not to walk out of the flat wit –“ Y/N had turned around and almost choked on her drink. “Oh my god, Harry! Oh – hi!” She jumped up hugging him, feeling how his body shook with laughter at her reaction, strong arms weaving around her middle. “Holy shit, it’s really you!”

“Yeah, ‘s me. Who else?”

“I didn’t know you were back in the UK.”

A warmth spread through his chest, as he reluctantly pulled away from the hug. “Been checking in on me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sitting back down, but pulling up a third chair for Harry to sit upon. “Dan’s a huge fan.” She motioned with her head to the man. “When we first started dating, I thought he was only doing it because we used to be friends, and he hoped I’d set you up or something.”

Harry masked the choke of envy by clearing his throat and letting out an awkward chuckle. “Hope I’m not interrupting a date or something.”

“A catch-up date, but not a date date.” Dan lifted his brows at Y/N, who gave him a ‘don’t start this’ look to which he threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m just making conversation.”

“You’re being annoying, that’s what you are.” Y/N flicked a crumb from the table towards him.

It was in that moment that it truly hit how much he’d missed, and it hit him hard he no longer knew the person who once was his best friend.

“You’re different,” Harry said, looking over at her trying to keep the lump in his throat from making his voice break.

Y/N shrugged, eyes twinkling. “I mean it has been almost a decade. I do hope I don’t look the same as I did then. Otherwise, the pain of braces was of no use.”

“No,” he chuckled shaking his head. “’S not that… It’s like you’re a different person.”

“I grew up,” she said, sipping on the last bits of her drink. “ ’M not the same fifteen-year-old you saw last.”

He nodded and bit his lip. But the thing was, Harry wasn’t the stupid sixteen-year-old that left the fifteen-year-old her either. This time, he wouldn’t let the chance at happiness pass him by when he could’ve had it all along.

***

He sat across from Y/N at the large marble table and watched, heart bleeding out in his chest as she put her signature on the papers, her attorney fishing out something from his briefcase and handing it to her under the table. He saw her shoulders shudder before she placed a maroon rectangle with a golden inscription on it in her own purse. Harry wanted to vomit. It was her new passport, where her surname no longer matched his, where he no longer existed, inscribed into the document as her spouse.

“Mr Styles?” Y/N’s lawyer pushed the papers his way, the pen laying atop them. “’S your turn.”

‘Your turn’, as if it was a game of spin the bottle or UNO.

“Don’t make me,” he choked out, pleading with Y/N one last time. “Please don’t make me do this. Don’t make me give up on us.”

Her words were worse than a knife to his soul. “You can’t give up on something that’s no longer there.”

When they’d been at the stage of negotiation, he’d kept pushing for giving her at least half of his income, to give her one of the houses they owned together, but she’d turned everything down.

“I didn’t marry you for your money, Harry.” He’d expected her voice to be full of venom, but it wasn’t. It was sad, resigned. “I don’t want what you’ve earned.”

“Let me give you at least something.”

“I don’t want anything from you. If it makes you feel any better, you can donate whatever amount you wanted to give me. I don’t care. All I want from this is for you to sign the papers.”

“And if I can’t?”

Y/N sighed, looking down at the table. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

That’s when her attorney had cleared his throat. “Mrs Sty – Y/L/N. Legally, according to the prenup, you are entitled to half of Mr Styles estate as well as twenty percent of all his earnings.”

But Y/N just shook her head. “I only signed those documents because that’s what he and his agent wanted. I never asked for it or anything or the sort. Donate it, for all I care. Buy a new house, Harry I literally don’t want to know what you do with your money.” Y/N took in a sharp breath and calmed herself down. It’d been the first time Harry had heard any sort of emotion from her since she'd spoken those horrible words. “I just want this over with.”

And now, he was at the moment of the end. He just never thought their story would end with broken hearts and ripped up futures.

His handwriting was barely legible at best of times, but right now it seemed as if a toddler had tried to forge it with how much his hand shook. When the pen dropped, so did his shoulders, and he saw Y/N’s drop as well.

Harry’s with weight from the love lost, Y/N’s with relief, for now their broken hearts wouldn’t hurt one another no longer.

His lawyer handed him over a new passport as well, where Y/N was no longer written as his spouse. The urge to rip it to shreds was almost uncontainable. He hated it more than the divorce papers.

***

They’d been dating for a little over two years when he decided to propose, only every plan he had was miserably ruined by some outside force.

The first time he’d decided he’d do it at a romantic dinner. Harry had found out Y/N wasn’t a fan of huge romantic gestures, so he wouldn’t get on one knee and draw everyone’s attention. He’d simply take her hand in his, kiss her fingers and ask.

But as they’d sat at the table enjoying their meal and talking, he noticed Y/N become quieter and quieter. A frown morphed on his face.

“You alright, Lovie?”

“Umm,” Y/N’s brow creased even more, and she dropped her fork. “I umm I don’t know. ‘M feeling kind of funky?”

“What’dya mean?”

“I – “ Y/N opened her mouth but didn’t manage to get anything else out as she jumped up and rushed towards the ladies room.

Harry quickly dropped his own utensils and rushed after her, not bothering with the yells of the woman who was looking at herself in the mirror, while his girlfriend threw up her guts inside one of the toilets.

A member of the staff had run to see what all the commotion was about, but when he saw Y/N half inside a stall, half outside, Harry’s hands keeping her hair away from her face, he went back out and immediately grabbed the first aid kit they had in the kitchen, handing it to Harry along with a cold wet towel.

Y/N shuddered, leaning against the stall wall sweat glistening on her face, as he pressed the damp cloth against her skin. She gave him half a smile. “Told you not to get the shrimp.”

“I’ll get the cab, Lovie.” He smoothed away the once meticulously styled hair, which was now stuck to her damp skin.

But she shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m about to puke again.”

In the end, she threw up two more times, her stomach really not agreeing with the entrée. The waiters kept apologising the whole time, and the chef had stopped cooking, the restaurant immediately taking action and refunding everyone who’d ordered anything with shrimps in them.

When they’d gotten back home, Y/N was so tired and felt so sick, Harry could only help her get out of the dress, clean her up with a warm towel and wrap her up in her favourite pyjamas before curling up together on his bed and falling asleep, making sure if there was a moment, she felt nauseous again, he was by her side. She needed his help more than he needed to propose.

***

He threw himself into his work like a madman. Day and night, he was either at a studio, on a filming lot, in between meetings or interviews. The media buzzed about how his marriage had fallen apart, even though Y/N hadn’t made a statement or spoken a word to anyone, and neither had Harry. But he guessed the emptiness of his ring finger gave everything away.

He refused, however, to speak on it. As painful as it was, he was still in love with Y/N. She hadn’t chosen to be in the spotlight, it was Harry’s world, not hers, so he respected her decision to be quiet and remained so himself, save for one single post his management had asked for him to put up. It'd also been the last time he'd spoken to her.

All he received was a simple text message 'do what you have to do'.

A couple of months down the line though, something came up, and Harry couldn’t keep his tongue behind his teeth.

It was an article in The Sun, a photograph of Y/N plastered all over the front page with the words ‘Gold-digger Y/L/N finally seen out after divorce with Harry Styles.” He’d snatched the paper right off the stand and flipped it open, frantic green eyes scanning the words.

‘Despite it only being two months since the two childhood ex-best friends broke up, Y/N Y/L/N was already seen in the company of a man, sharing a drink, and giving one another flirtatious smiles. An inside source tells us, how she hadn’t even been that upset about the divorce and has been going out and having fun with many male companions, one of them being her ex-boyfriend from university times.’

‘Harry Styles, known for his time in the pop boyband One Direction and for his solo endeavours in music as well as dabbling in acting, broke everyone’s belief in true love after being seen in public without a ring. This prompted an announcement that the four-year relationship and two-year marriage to who was once his best friend had ended and the two had decided to get a divorce. Although the post showed a picture of their silhouettes holding one another with their foreheads together, and his statement showed nothing but love and respect for his then-wife, sources say Y/N had been controlling and obsessive over her then-husband and hadn’t wanted him to leave to pursue his career, stifling his growth.’

He didn’t bother to read any further, as he pulled out his phone, calling Jeff immediately to figure out how to make all of it go away, how to do at least one thing right.

“They’re dragging her name through the mud!” he sneered, not even caring he was bumping shoulders with people, and if the paparazzi would dare spin a story of the state he was in at that moment, he’d sue each and every one of them personally. “I have to do something. Fuck, Jeff, I love her! I can’t let them paint her like this. Y/N – “ he choked back a lump. “She never asked for this. Didn’t ask for anything. And that man – that was Dan, okay. I know him. Yes, he’s her ex, but they don’t know anything!”

“Harry I’ve sent them cease-and-desist letters already.” Jeff tried to ease him. “But… she’s no longer your concern Har.”

The words hit him like a bullet and ripped a hole in his chest just like one of them would. “You might still love her,” Jeff’s voice was solemn. “But Y/N is no longer yours to protect.”

“I can’t just let them talk shit about her,” Harry whispered back.

His friend sighed on the other side of the line. “I know. Which is why we’ll deal with it. But you have to start letting her go.”

***

The second time Harry wanted to propose was about a month later, and Christmas was right around the corner. They’d decided that Christmas Eve would be spent with his sister, her boyfriend and Anne, while Christmas Day they’d go to Y/N’s side of the family.

Although they’d settled on one gift each, Harry had been carrying around that small box for what felt like an eternity. And it wouldn’t really be a gift, given how he’d wrap it and hang it in the tree.

“It’s an ornament,” he’d say to her, a smug smile on his lips, as Y/N would roll her eyes at him. “Just because it has your name on it, doesn’t mean it’s immediately a present.”

And then she’d open it, and would gasp, and Harry would slide down on his knee, press a kiss to her ring-free finger before asking that fateful question.

But just like before, his plan didn’t come to fruition.

He’d asked his mother to hang up the little box, so there was no chance of Y/N seeing it in his hands, but what he hadn’t thought of was Gemma’s boyfriend had decided on the exact same plan of action.

When Michal had dropped down on his knee, Harry’s sister’s trembling hand in his, he couldn’t do that to them. As much as he wanted to marry Y/N, he couldn’t take away Gemma’s moment. So while Y/N was preoccupied with looking at the gleaming diamond on Gemma’s finger, Harry plucked down the box from where it’d hung and placed it on the side no one could see, before he could put it in his bag.

“ ’M sorry, honey,” Anne had said to him over coffee the next morning. “I didn’t know Michal would do that.”

He’d just shaken his head, no hurt in his heart. “Great minds think alike. Our moment will come. ‘M happy for Gem. Besides, if he hadn’t done that anytime soon, I would’ve needed to have a stern talking.”

***

What his sister said to him made him think he had to be living in a simulation, because it couldn’t be true. Y/N couldn’t be getting married. Not this soon. Not ever. Not to someone who wasn’t him. It had been barely a year since he’d signed the death sentence to his own happiness.

Harry shook his head. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying, Gem.”

“I’m not.” Her voice broke as she said it. “I saw her at a café. Saw the ring… the man who gave it to her. Harry, I’m so sorry.”

His mind reeled with questions he wasn’t sure he wanted answers to. Was that why she’d really divorced him? Had she been cheating on him and just needed an excuse out of their relationship to jump into the new one? He was away so much on their relationship, he wouldn’t have been surprised if someone else had swooped in and tried to win her heart.

Harry’s mind was one of the greatest things he’d been blessed him, but also one of the worst curses bestowed upon him, as it weaved a story of Y/N and the man who’d now put a gleaming ring on her finger.

He was away, like always, doing something he could do another time. She was on her own, keeping their bed warm with just her body, fighting for their relationship on her own, while he made plans once more to go to a different part of the world and leave her behind again.

Y/N pulled herself out of the bed, sighing and rubbing her face. She opened their closet only to be greeted with Harry’s half empty. Maybe that was the moment she decided to find someone who’d fill it and wouldn’t leave it permanently empty, Harry conjured up.

She’d dress in a soft jumper and some jeans, a large cardigan hanging over her body and would go to a café for her morning drink. And that’s where she’d meet him. The stranger that would take her out of the lonely life she’d been living. The stranger that would make a smile bloom on her face and her heart stutter once more. The stranger who would show her the love Y/N deserved to have.

Harry had to shake his head to get rid of the thoughts before they ventured into a worse territory.

No. Y/N wasn’t like that. No matter what, she would never cheat on him. She had enough dignity for herself and respect for him, even though in his own mind, Harry didn’t think he deserved it.

Although he didn’t have a right to, nor was it the sanest move (and if someone saw him doing it, there would probably be a slew of articles), Harry got into his car and drove to where Y/N’s apartment was, and when she opened the door after hearing seven loud knocks, he stepped inside without even waiting for her to invite him.

“You’re getting married?”

She crossed her arms. “It’s none of your concern.”

“It’s been barely a year! I refuse to believe you’ve moved on so fast.”

Maybe he was kidding himself, and Y/N truly had, but as much as their marriage had fallen apart, he did have the honour of having known her and having figured some things out deeper than others would.

Y//N scoffed. “I was proposed to. And I said yes.” The words were like venom entering his veins. “If I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t have agreed to it. And as I already said – it is none of your concern.”

Harry stood there, watching as she dragged a hand down her face, eyes flitting everywhere he wasn’t. It told him everything he needed to know.

“You’re not happy,” he whispered stepping forward and reaching for her hand. “I know how you shine when you’re truly happy. This isn’t it. Why are you doing this?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Harry was so confused, at a complete loss at what Y/N was saying. “So, you’ll what? Get married to him and be miserable? Why the hell did you divorce me then?”

Y/N sighed. “Being unhappy with him isn’t as unbearable as being unhappy with you. Because with you, I know what it feels like to truly fully loved. Which is why it broke me when you stopped.”

“I never stopped!” Harry whisper yelled, anger coursing through his veins at her words, because they were lies. “Why do you think I dragged us to marriage counselling? Why do you think I kept fighting for us? For you?! You were the one that gave up!”

“You weren’t there when I needed you.”

Harry blinked rapidly, not understanding what she meant.

“You left me for ten years. You forgot all about me until that day at the café. Not once did you message me or call me or even send fucking snail mail. I was the one putting in all the effort, I was the one who was trying to keep you in my life, but you didn’t want it. Just like it was when we were married.”

Rage bubbled under the surface, but he kept it at bay. That was not how he’d get Y/N back. “How?” he asked calmly. “How did I not want it?”

She scoffed shaking her head. “It was the same as it was ten years ago. With the movie, the new album... You were always at the studio or hanging out with your castmates. When I asked for you to free up one night, one single night, you didn’t come back until three AM, drunk off your ass, and I had to take care of you. I asked for one night. And you didn’t even give me that. So forgive me for not feeling like you still loved me.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me then?!”

“I did!” This was the first time he’d ever heard Y/N yell, before kneading her lips tightly together and then continuing more quietly. “But you never heard me. Not really. You heard what I asked, and promised to be there, but when the time came… something more important always came up. Something that always deserved to have the promise you gave me to be broken.” Y/N gave him a sad smile. “Do you remember when you first asked me out? And I said no?”

Harry nodded. “You said that we just got one another back and didn’t want to have anything rip us apart again. Didn’t even want to chance it.”

“And you said it was exactly why I should give us a chance. That we’d finally found one another again and shouldn’t let the opportunity go…” She tilted her head. “Guess we should’ve listened to me. I included.”

He couldn’t believe her. “Is that really your takeaway here? You were right?”

“But I was.” Y/N shrugged. “Look at where we are now. You forgot me for basically ten years.” She shrugged, stepping away. “Give it some time, and you’ll forget me for the rest of your life. Besides, we’ve not known one another longer than we have. So, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Why did you then? Go out with me?” Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. “Get married to me?”

For a moment Y/N just looked at him, Y/E/C eyes boring into his green ones. “Because I’d once again convinced myself I was important to you, just like I did when we were teens. And in my head, I had dreamt up that maybe I’d be important enough for you not to forget me.”

***

The third time did the charm though.

They were both sleepy, under the covers of Harry’s bed, eyes barely keeping open as they were determined to finish Elf.

Y/N had her cheek pressed against his chest, bare body next to his naked one. She hated sleeping in pyjamas (unless they were staying over at one of their parent’s places,) because she said it made her feel like the clothes were suffocating her. Harry didn’t like sleeping with pyjamas because all he wanted was to fully feel the skin of his lover next to his.

Snow fell behind the large windows of his London penthouse apartment, covering the city in a white blanket. It rarely snowed there, so he watched with warmth in his heart as the flakes fluttered to the ground.

It was all so calm, so serene, that Harry realised that’d been the moment he’d been waiting for. No need for fancy dinners or present it as a loud gift. Being together was a gift enough.

“Lovie?” he asked, nose hidden in her hair. “You awake?”

All he received in answer was a small hum. She was on the verge of passing out, but this was the moment, so, he whispered the question, voice so low as if he was asking the dark to marry him not Y/N.

He couldn’t look at her, afraid of what she might say, afraid she might say no, think back to the times he wasn’t there for her, think of all the reasons why he wasn’t good enough for her, and would only bring her sorrow.

“Lover.” Her voice was as soft as a summer’s morning. “Look at me. Please.”

It was one of the most frightening things in his life, as he did so.

Y/E/C eyes met green. What he saw on her face allowed his heart to calm down a little.

“Is the Sun the closest star to us?”

That he hadn’t expected. “What?”

“Does it rise in the East and set in the West?”

“Y-yes?”

Her hand cupped his cheek, and he melted against her. “Then why are you asking me a question you know the answer will be the same as to those?”

“Can I put the ring on your finger then?” He was more excited than about anything in his life.

Y/N shook her head, bringing his lips to brush against hers. “Don’t need a ring. Just need you to kiss me.”

***

The wedding was far away from the city so that no one from the press could even think about following her or her entourage. The guest list was small, compared to the three hundred people Harry’s and her wedding had had.

Anne had told him not to go. He wasn’t invited, and neither was she or Gemma, for obvious reasons. As much as Y/N loved them, she knew it’d hurt the two women, but it would hurt Harry more. So seeing her stepping out of the car, dressed in a cream wedding gown, a veil covering her face, made flashbacks appear behind Harry’s eyelids.

She’d worn an off-white gown before as well, dusty rose to be exact. And Harry’s bow tie had matched it. Y/N had never liked the thought of wearing white at her wedding.

“Listen, if it’s white, I’ll most definitely spill something on it,” she’d told him as both of them had been flipping through some wedding magazines. “You know me. But if it’s some other colour, there’s a bigger chance no one will notice when that happens.”

It didn’t seem right to him. It was like a bad fever-dream like he’d had that one time, and Y/N had had to listen to him babble about the hallucinations dancing in front of him because of the high temperature.

Her gaze remained on the ground, or maybe on the bucket of white roses in her hands. She hated white roses.

A woman in a pale blue dress straightened out the back of Y/N’s dress and the train of it, and he watched as her mother came to stand beside her daughter, giving her an elbow to grasp onto.

All he wanted was for Y/N to be happy, and it hurt to think it wasn’t with him because Harry believed it was supposed to be him.

He took in a shaky breath and got out of the car just as Y/N had walked up the steps and disappeared behind the double doors.

It was going to be him.

***

Harry knew he wasn’t the best husband in the world. He was away for a lot of time, and as conceited of an excuse it was, his job did entail going out to parties, mingling with other people living the high life, and being seen with certain celebs.

Y/N was never one for it. She always supported Harry, but she didn’t like going out and spending time with people who didn’t care for her existence. Well, maybe they did, but only in a sense that she’d been the lucky bitch who’d snagged up the Harry Styles.

But if there was something Harry did was love, and he loved wholeheartedly, which is why it absolutely destroyed him when he’d gotten back home one evening and heard Y/N crying in their bathroom.

She’d never tell him, but it was because no longer did his pillow smell like him. Harry had been away for so long, that the essence of him that’d soaked into their sheets was no longer there. And it broke her to pieces.

When he’d get home, he’d be so tired, he’d crash on the couch, only tiptoeing his way into their shared room to go to his closet and get some clean clothes in the morning. He’d look over at his sleeping wife and allow a blissful smile to bloom on his face at the sight.

He was so lucky to have Y/N back in his life. He was so lucky she’d accepted him and fallen for him as he’d fallen for her. He’d silently move over and press a kiss to her temple, before going back down and off to work once more. Only he wouldn’t see the dried tears on her cheeks.

So, when he’d found her curled up in the tub, hands in her hair, face hidden by her knees, frame trembling like leaves in a storm, he instantly dropped to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through his bones, as he pulled Y/N into him.

“I can’t, Harry,” she choked out, shaking her head. He knew it was bad. She never called him by his name. “I can’t do this. I’m so alone. Even when you’re here, I’m alone.”

Harry had had his heart broken before, and always he wondered afterwards if someone took it out of his chest at that moment, what kind of a sound would it make. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it’d be as silent as the tears running down his face at Y/N’s confession.

“Maybe,” he swallowed harshly trying to keep his whole body from shaking, from showing the fear her statement instilled in him. “Maybe we need couple’s therapy.”

“What?” her eyebrows had shot up to the middle of the forehead.

“Y/N, we’re clearly having problems. I – I know I need to work on things, but you’re also not telling me how you’re feeling. Maybe we just need some help.”

She didn’t really know what to respond. In her mind, Y/N had somehow conjured up an image that if she ever got married, they’d be happy. Sure, they’d fight and have rows, but they’d always be able to work things out on their own. Not once in her life, did she ever think she’d need to go and see a marriage counsellor to help her save her marriage.

Her own parents much like Harry’s had gotten divorced. Hers had tried therapy. It’d been their last resort. It didn't work. So, when he’d mentioned it to her, that’s what made her decide it was truly over.

Y/N nodded, bringing him in for a hug, and felt his body melt into hers with relief.

She’d try, for Harry, but her mind was already made up.

***

So he stood outside the doors, listening for the line of ‘if there is anyone who opposes this union speak up now, or forever hold your peace’. His hand grasped the handle, ready to push, but… he couldn’t. He’d ruined her happy ever after once before. He couldn’t do that again to her.

Tears streamed down his face as he pocketed his hands and ventured away from the ceremony. The ceremony where the love of his life was promising to cherish someone else, to fight through thick and thin with someone else, to make someone else happy, while her own happiness suffered.

Harry sat in his car, waiting for her to exit, a smile on her face as she’d hold the hand of who now was her husband. That'd be the moment he'd let go of her. But when the doors sprung open, she was alone, hands clutching onto the front of her dress, as she rushed down the steps and back inside the car she’d arrived in.

For a second he sat in his vehicle, stunned beyond belief at what had happened, at what, as horrible as it sounded, he hoped had happened. When a man, hand in his hair ran outside as well, the same woman in the pale blue dress rushing out with him, Harry knew.

He was basically a madman on the road, breaking almost every possible law as he tried to catch up to the car Y/N had jumped in.

His mind raced with the possibilities of where she could’ve gone. The airport, her family’s summer house in Winchester, honestly anywhere in the world, but Harry shut up his mind, and allowed his heart to make the decision.

It didn’t seem like Y/N had premeditated fleeing from her wedding, which meant she’d need her stuff. And that meant going to her apartment as quickly as possible before someone came to look for her.

The way he parked was probably illegal leaving the car basically in the middle of the road, but Harry didn’t care much as he frantically rushed up the steps of her apartment complex. He was scared that if he knocked, she wouldn’t open, thinking it might be someone from the wedding, but he didn’t need to be afraid of it, as he saw Y/N, her hair still styled as it had been for the ceremony, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a suitcase in hand exiting from the flat.

“Why didn’t you do it?” he breathlessly asked, startling her and making her drop the keys.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? What are you doing here?”

Harry stepped closer, hand cupping her cheek, insides trembling from all of the emotions coursing through his body. “Why didn’t you do it? Marry him? Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I – “ Y/N choked on her words. “I couldn’t say yes. It didn’t feel right.”

“Why?”

“Because it wasn’t you, I was saying yes to.”

That was all Harry needed to kiss her like he'd done once before. And this time, he wasn’t going to let her go. He’d made that mistake twice. He would never repeat it again.

“I love you,” he cried through a laugh. “I love you. I love you. I love you. And I’m never letting you slip through my fingers ever again.”

“How can you even think about loving me again after what I did to us?” she asked, pulling away from his lips.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re talking like I ever stopped. Through thick and thin. It’s what we promised. Think and thin, my Lovie."

***

A sixteen-year-old Harry and a fifteen-year-old Y/N laid outside in the grass of Harry’s garden; eyes trained onto the dark night starlit sky above. It was the day before his life changed forever as did hers.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Harry asked, trying to catch a glimpse of a shooting star.

Y/N scrunched up her nose. “No. I don’t think I do. And I don’t think I want one.”

“Why not?”

“What if they’re old and in their thirties? Or dead?”

Harry snorted at her response.

“And you?” Y/N turned her head to look at him. “Do you believe in soulmates?

He bit his lip and nodded. “I think I do. I think it’s two people who’ve been brought together, and no matter what happens will find their way to one another. Through thick and thin.”

"And what if one of them breaks the other's heart?"

"That's the thin." He looked at her. "And you don't give up then. It's when you need to love them even more."

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: Happy 2021 everyone! Hopefully things are better this year, and everyone stays safe and sound.

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my fics on other platforms without specific written permission. Reblogs are a okay :)

922 notes · View notes

egcdeath · 3 years

Text

hook, line, and sinker

summary: steve was never meant to be anything more to you than a check, a basic mission. but somewhere along the way, things had veered from that.

pairing: steve rogers x spy!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, bad decisions, betrayal, unhappy ending

author's note: it has been a minute since i've posted a fic! i hope you enjoy :)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Despite the different rooms you found yourself in, the harsh morning sun was always the first thing you saw in the morning. Its bright rays would peek through the room’s shades and land right onto your face, intruding on some of the more vulnerable moments of your life.

When you finally angled your face away from the beaming star, your tired eyes fell upon the man next to you. The man you should’ve never taken things this far with. A man on the run, who you were sent after.

You sighed softly as you became a bit more conscious, and a now slightly more awake Steve threw a large arm around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Don’t get up yet,” he mumbled softly against your ear. You nodded and relaxed further into the slightly stiff motel mattress, mentally snapshotting and framing this moment in time. Yet another to add in the five month scrapbook of your time with Steve. Time that you recognized was quickly running out.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes once more, to listen to Steve’s soft breaths as he inhaled the scent of you. It made your heart hurt knowing that within the next week you would no longer get to be in those arms. Knowing that you would have to wake up alone in a new apartment in a new country and wait for a new mission while the news on the television droned on about the nomadic Captain America being flushed out of hiding. That Steve was no more to you than a mission. That it was your fault that you had fallen so hard and so fast.

So you treasured it while you had it. Hummed contently as Steve massaged your side before peppering little kisses against your neck. Tried to absorb the stubborn tear that threatened to fall down your face at any moment.

“We have to leave today,” he whispered against your ear, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Natasha wants to meet you.”

Your eyes shot open and your brows momentarily furrowed, something you quickly attempted to play off with a wide smile. There was no way that she wouldn’t recognize who you were— despite being declared ‘dead’ years ago, you were one of the more esteemed spies in your community. What that also meant is that you had even less time with Steve than you’d expected.

“When are we leaving? Am I gonna have to get used to another time zone?”

“Probably a few. Nat’s already with Sam, but we heard there’s something weird going on in Scotland with Wanda and Vision.”

“Should I really be getting involved with this then? It sounds like some pretty intense Avenger business if the parts of the team you still communicate with are getting together. I can just stay here ‘till you guys are ready to come back.”

Steve gave you an ‘are you serious?’ look before breaking into soft laughter, “are you serious?” You nodded wordlessly in response. “Oh, you’re serious. I promise that you’ll be fine.”

“Well, things better not get weird,” you giggled right along with him, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s face so that you could look into his eyes. You took another mental picture of him. You just hoped it wouldn’t have to be the last.

——

After you prepared yourself for the long car ride ahead of you, you slipped your second burner phone out of the hidden pocket of your suitcase, you were met with several missed messages by the man who sent you on the mission in the first place.

What is the wait?

I was referred to you for a reason

Have you even found him yet?

I’m not paying for you to sit around and go to brunch all day.

Do I need to send more money for a plane ticket or something??

No, I’ve got it. He’ll be in custody by tonight.

He better be. Or else you won’t be around to see tomorrow.

You swallowed thickly. You wouldn’t be dealing with this in the first place if you weren’t so irresponsible. And if word got out that you were falling in love with your targets, your reputation would be in shambles. You should’ve known from the start that this could never end well.

Steve stepped back into the bedroom area, a goofy smile on his face at the sight of you sprawled out on your back on top of the dingy motel bed. “You ready?” he asked, sounding chipper. You assumed he was ecstatic that you were finally going to be able to meet his friends, which made your heart hurt even more.

For a moment you considered the possibility of not going through with it. Of going along with Steve, work, prestige, and that hefty bounty be damned. You would still be living life on the run, but you’d have Steve, and everyone else on his side on your side too. You’d have some semblance of a family, and maybe someday you’d have a real family and someone to grow old with.

You chastised yourself for getting soft before sitting up, “I’m ready.”

——

You weren’t ready.

You knew you had to move quickly, the sun was going down, and you’d made a promise that needed to be fulfilled, or god knew what would happen to you.

You reached for the volume dial on the radio portion of the car, and turned down the song that Steve was currently humming along to.

“We should probably get off on the next exit that has a gas station,” you prompted, “the tank’s getting pretty low.”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to the dashboard and he nodded in agreement, “you’re right. Good catch.”

Steve pulled the car off and drove you to the nearest gas station, humming pleasantly along to the music once again. Your stomach was twisting and untwisting knots with every foot you got closer to the station, knowing exactly what you would have to do once you arrived.

Somehow, this was the most nerve wracking moment of your career. Not infiltrating secret government operations, not pulling the trigger on a mark, not even seeing the message from Tony Stark asking for you to find a way to bring Steve in.

You hurried into the main building of the station, making up an excuse on the spot to go inside. You made your way into a bathroom stall, and slipped the phone you hid away earlier out of the extra pocket in your pants.

Your hands shook as you dialed the first two numbers. You took one last deep breath as your finger hovered over the final number. You had one last chance to change your mind, to go back out to the car like nothing had happened because nothing had happened. You would drive a little longer before staying in another shitty hotel, and think about how you made the right decision as you curled up next to Steve’s warm body.

But you couldn’t. You were given this mission, and you needed to complete it.

You pressed the last nine, immediately connecting with an emergency service operator. You gave them the tip that you had seen Steve Rogers pumping gas into a black Honda Civic, and provided them with your location. With every word, your voice trembled a little more. You were grateful for your proximity to a toilet, as the lump inside of your throat threatened to force the contents of your stomach up with every passing moment.

You hung up the phone and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You could barely recognize yourself now, and you weren’t sure if that was from the flagrant betrayal of your partner, or the undermining of your own personal rules for the past five months of your life.

After reflecting on what you’d done for a few minutes, you made your way back to the car. You sat down in the passenger seat, lip trembling as you thought about Steve, and the fact that you’d laid a trap for someone you had such strong feelings for.

Steve sat down just a few minutes later, a smile on his face, and snacks from the gas station in his arms. As he passed you a water bottle, he couldn’t help but notice the tears slipping down your face.

“Hey, what‘s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked, dropping the rest of the items on his lap and leaning over the middle console to console you.

You began to full-on sob now, each tremble of your body filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Steve. I am so sorry,” you repeated.

“No, no, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I- I had no other choice,” you wailed, “I’m sorry.”

His brows creased and he pulled away from you, betrayal evident in his features, “oh.”

You swallowed hard and shook your head.

“So this was the plan all along?” he questioned. Your lack of response seemed to answer the question for him. “Was any of this real?”

“All of it was, Steve,” you all but whimpered out.

He sighed deeply and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. He seemed to be searching for the words, but couldn’t quite put together what he truly wanted to say. It was silent in the car for a moment, aside from your quiet sniffles.

“I loved you,” he finally said, hurt evident in his delivery. The admission shook you to your core. You almost couldn’t believe that the first time you were hearing it was after you had put him into such a terrible situation. After you turned in someone that you cared about for your own gain.

“I know,” you looked away from Steve in shame, the look of hurt on his face now permanently imprinted in your mind.

The sound of sirens began to fill the air. Not too long after, you noticed the unmissable blue and red of emergency vehicles approaching your own. It was time.

You unlocked your door and exited without another word. You refused to look back to the car, keeping your head down and your eyes squeezed shut, knowing that if you had to see Steve being taken away, you might never get over the permanent sick feeling you were currently in the midst of.

You walked right inside of the building, stopping in front of an aisle of chargers and finally looking back at the mess that you had made.

“What’s going on out there?” the clerk asked from behind the counter, peeking out the large glass windows.

“I don’t know,” you feigned ignorance and casually shrugged, ignoring the fact that the sight of about a dozen police and SWAT vehicles was tearing you up inside. What were they going to do to him?

You turned away from the scene once again, pretending to browse through the low quality electronics next to you. You heard some yelling, a bit of a struggle, then it was all over.

The coast was clear. Your mission was over.

You left the store without purchasing anything. You moved sluggishly as you got back inside of the now abandoned vehicle.

You started the car once again. This time without the radio playing overplayed pop songs, and without Steve happily humming along. You stared blankly ahead of you, feeling numb above anything else. Steve's words resonated in your mind, bouncing around in your head as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

Guilt was beginning to creep up on you in a way that you’d never experienced before. You immediately felt haunted by the ghosts of your memories with Steve. Of every entry in your mental scrapbook, of the final image of the hurt on Steve’s face as he confessed his true feelings for you. Of all, you were left with one terrifying thought.

You loved him too.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #steve rogers angst

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

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The Obey Me Cast on a Camping Trip (Part One: Brothers)

Hey guys, thank you sooo much for getting me to 2,000 followers!! I honestly don’t know what to say... I never dreamed that this little hobby of mine would reach so many eyes, and I can’t be more grateful. At a time in my life where things feel so chaotic and uncertain, being a part of this community and sharing my weird ideas has been what’s kept me going. It’s been such a rewarding experience all around, so thank you. From the bottom of my heart. 😊

I pulled out all the stops for this post. I even brought out one of my favorite songs of all time: Ao to Natsu by Mrs. GREEN APPLE to get the feel juuust right. I hope you all enjoy it!

This post is split in two due to length (I had too much fun again...) For the Undateables, please click HERE!

Intro:

Another day, another team building activity between the demons and the exchange students. It was Diavolo’s idea to go on a camping trip to the human world (because of course it was), and there were very… mixed responses. That sentiment wasn’t helped when he refused Lucifer’s insistent pleas to just purchase cabins for everyone to stay in. Oh no, the Demon Lord wanted to rough it out in the wilderness, and now everyone else was getting dragged along with him…

Wonder how that turned out?

Lucifer

Really, really, really tried to push Diavolo to just rent out cabins in but noooo, he wasn’t having it... So he ended up driving a van crammed with his brothers, the MC, and a butt-ton of camping equipment into the Alaskan wilderness…

The car ride itself was insufferable… We’re talking, “I SWEAR I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND!!” level of antics every 10 miles or so (mostly from Mammon)…

Setting up camp was even more of a nightmare because about half of his brothers were utterly useless. The other half (save Satan) were completely clueless… Had it not been for Barbatos and Satan he probably would have just resigned himself to the mercy of the river’s currents and let it take him away…

He couldn’t even wear his usual clothes because of the situation… For the first time in who knows how many centuries, he was stuck wearing jeans… Diavolo even bought him several plaid shirts... (which he was not happy with btw because his brother wouldn’t stop making fun of the “new” him)

He had his own tent of decent-size, enough to move around in but nothing to write home about. The very fact he didn’t have to share was a luxury in itself, so he took it for what it was worth...

He spent a good portion of the trip focused on two things: keeping Diavolo happy and everybody else alive. He rarely left camp unless forced to; he just wanted to get it all over with as soon as possible…

If he did leave, it was because Diavolo would drag him along to fish or hike. He was... less than pleased to be called out of his tent at the crack of dawn or well past dusk to sit on a little rented fishing boat with Diavolo… but he didn’t exactly pick his friends so...

He rates the trip Too Much Trouble/10. Let’s never do it again.

Mammon

Wasn’t a massive fan of being stuck out in the wild, but Satan told him some made-up bullshit about buried treasure out in the forest and got him HOOKED. He even borrowed stole a whole bunch of mining/digging equipment just for the occasion!

He spent most of the car ride asking, “Are we there yet??” like a child. The MC had to step in to keep Lucifer from leaving him on the side of the road at multiple points during the journey...

He was one of the utterly useless ones when it came to setting up camp. Someone charged him with putting up the twin’s tent, and he spent thirty minutes reading (then re-reading) the instructions while shouting expletives. Poor Simeon had to shield Luke from the vulgarity…

He has to share a tent with Levi, which neither of them liked. Mammon mainly because of Levi’s “old fish stink” and Levi because he feared catching “Mammon’s stupid.”

He was all jazzed up to go digging from Day One, though. He’d have breakfast, grab his shovel, then wander out into the middle of nowhere to go dig holes in the ground…

He also got completely lost on Day One, and it took the MC summoning him with their pact to return him to the group... By that time, he was filthy and somehow looked like he had been castaway for days (even though he was gone for like, three hours?)

When he stubbornly refused to stop digging, Lucifer resorted to just tying a rope around his ankle and letting him loose. It was up to Mammon to get back to camp before dinner, or else Lucifer would yank him back like he was on a leash.

Satan waited until the last day to finally tell Mammon the treasure was bullshit, and he was PISSED. He even threw Satan into the river, which resulted in the rest of the brothers joining in for a swim while the two tried to “playfully” drown each other.

He’d rate this trip 0/10 because he didn’t get any buried treasure. What a ripoff…

Leviathan

Hated the idea with a burning, seething passion. There’s no internet, cable, electricity, or phone signal out in the middle of nowhere! How the heck is an otaku supposed to survive?!

He clung to his electronics during the car ride until either they ran out of signal or their battery died, then he didn’t know what to do with himself… He resorted to reading several volumes of the manga he stuffed into his bag and clung to the MC for emotional support…

Yet another useless soul trying to put the camp together. He was in charge of his and Mammon’s tent but ended up almost crying in frustration… How the hell do humans do this all on their own?? Wasn’t he supposed to be the third strongest?! Why is he so pathetic?!? 😫

Hates sharing a tent with Mammon because he always wakes up to the second born encroaching on his space somehow… Poor baby is pretty much directly against the tent wall and STILL has to deal with legs and elbows in his side... 😰

Spends the majority of the trip moping in the tent... If he goes out there, he has to deal with the sun, bugs, and people… No thanks. He only leaves for meals and occasionally to go swimming.

When he found out part of the way through that Barbs brought portable solar panels and a battery pack for Diavolo and Lucifer’s phones, he was livid. He demanded access to the power source, which Lucifer refused because “It would defeat the purpose of this trip.”

He’d have summoned Lotan right then and there, deadass in the middle of the forest, if the MC hadn’t intervened. He then went back to moping, but now at the bottom of the lake and it took a lot of coaxing to get him back out…

On the final day, he was packing up the camp before anyone else even woke up. He wanted OUT and back to civilization ASAP. Bedroom here he comes!

Satan

You wouldn’t think of Satan as an outdoorsy guy. Still, he has shades of a survivalist in him (mostly because he’s read a lot of guides and was looking for an excuse to use them for a loooong time).

He read for the majority of the ride. He was squished between Asmo and Levi, which was reasonably peaceful. But he did end up shouting at Mammon quite a bit towards the end because “NO, we’re not there yet, peabrain!!”

He actually wasn’t a waste of space when setting up the camp, and between him, Barbs, and Lucifer, they were able to get a lot of stuff set up before sundown. He did have to bark a few orders to the others here and there, but overall competency won out in the end.

He shared a tent with Asmo, and the two made it work well enough… Except when Asmo did things like spraying his perfumes and dry shampoos, making it practically impossible to breathe in for a few minutes…

Spent a lot of the first few days reinforcing the camp to a ridiculous degree.

Did he have to collect large branches to build an exterior fence around the campsite? No. But he did.

Did he have to set up a water distillation system using some of the materials Barbs had lying around the “kitchen?” No. But he did.

Did he have to weave a series of fishing nets to catch them lunch from the lake and river? I think you get the point by now.

Only once he built pretty much every contraption or improvement he could think of, did he go back to just reading and relaxing by the fire.

By the time the group was ready to leave, Satan had somehow managed to craft them a veritable, self-sustaining fortress in the middle of the Alaskan wilds…

Overall he would rate the trip as… meh. Next time give him a challenge like a deserted island or an actual desert, and then he’ll really see what he can do.

Asmodeus

Was about as unhappy with the idea as Levi was… It wasn’t that he disliked the outdoors per se, it was just that no one, NO ONE, pulls off looking flawless after several days stuck in a tent!

He chatted the entire car ride from start to finish. He never stopped talking. It made for decent background noise at least…

Was one of the more clueless ones when trying to set up camp and pretty just did what he was ordered. The second he was left to try and figure something out on his own, he went to Lucifer or Satan for help because NOPE. Human equipment is needlessly complicated sometimes…

He had to share a tent with Satan, which in theory shouldn’t have been that bad, but Satan was out basically all day in the sun doing who knows what and would always come back sweaty and gross! At some points, he had to chase his brother out of the tent until he dunked himself in the river or something. No way was Asmo sleeping next to that. 😤

Asmo took the second-longest to get up and get ready in the morning. Sometimes he wouldn’t even leave the tent until well past breakfast just in an attempt to salvage his hair and skin… He only got grouchier about it as the trip went on… 😥

A more… earthy looking Asmo is kind of a bizarre sight. He’s still attractive, no doubt, but it’s less like polished glamour and more like Hollywood humble. He spent the majority of the trip looking like a somewhat dirtied movie-star (which he still insisted was the worst he’s ever looked in ages).

Aside from salvaging his looks, he actually enjoyed taking pictures of their surroundings or of the group (but not himself). He sometimes forgot how genuinely breathtaking the human world could be…

….but his patience for the place wore out quickly once he started noticing his hair getting greasy. He was right next to Levi, packing up the site once it was finally time to leave. At least those two finally found something they could agree on, let’s get the fuck out already!

Beelzebub

He was really curious about trying camping food and pretty excited that Barbatos was coming, too (because that meant great food in general).

Unfortunately, Lucifer had to stop the van at basically every gas station they passed for Beel could refill on snacks… Belphie ended up getting buried in wrappers pretty often, but he was asleep, so it didn’t matter much.

Beel did a lot of the heavy lifting when setting the camp up, but the finer details were left up to everybody else. He had his hands full getting stuff off the cars as is…

Of course, he shared a tent with Belphie, and there wasn’t much complaint between them. Honestly, there would have been more drama if they were split, so this was the better option.

After the MC told Beel about fishing and how it could net him more food, if he did it right, he knew exactly what he wanted to do during the trip.

… But no one told him how long and slow the process would be. There were points he’d get so hungry he’d consider eating the bait himself…

That was until about Day Three of the trip when they passed by a river full of grizzly bears… He was about to ask the MC why the bears were all standing in the water, but then he saw a fish practically leap directly into one’s mouth…

Beel had discovered his true calling.

Of course, the grizzlies didn’t take too kindly to a demon suddenly sprinting into the water with them. They tried to fight him off, but Beel just tossed most of them downstream without any issue until they realized who the apex predator really was…

After forming a shaky truce with the bears, Beel would stand in the water for hours then come back with whole baskets full of salmon… There were far more fish than Barbatos knew what to do with, so he’d just confiscate a few then let Beel eat the rest...

The MC shuddered to think about what Beel had done to the local salmon population… But he was full and happy for most of the trip, so he had a great time!

Belphegor

Sleep for him isn’t too contingent on location, so the idea of camping wasn’t terrible. It did sound like a lot of hassle for no good reason, though…

He spent the entire car ride asleep, head and cow pillow pressed up against the window and everything. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but he’d dealt with worse.

He was utterly useless when putting up the camp by choice, thank you. He had more than enough sense to get things put together; he just didn’t want to. If he wasn’t asked to do something by Beel or the MC, he’d just lay back in the grass and smugly watch everybody else struggle…

Again, he and Beel are in the same tent, and you wouldn’t hear any complaints out of him. He did start to have some second thoughts when Beel began getting a fishy smell, though, so he tried to bunk with the MC in their tent for a while.

Like Levi, Belphie didn’t leave the tent much during the daylight hours, but that was because he was still asleep… There was no good way to wake him with no alarms available, so he’d sleep in past lunch easily.

When he was awake, he didn’t leave camp very much except to walk with the MC or watch Beel fishing grizzly-style.

Eventually, Asmo and Diavolo got sick of him dodging their photos, so they’d started posing him Weekend at Bernie’s style around the camp (always conveniently propped up by something and with sunglasses on)

Something Belphie did like, however, was the nighttime. Since there were no lights around, he could practically see everything the sky had to offer. He could spend hours laying on his back long after everyone else had gone to bed just admiring the stars.

All in all, not a terrible trip. Anything that could give him that view like that was well worth it. 6/10, would sleep again.

Click HERE for Part Two. Check out my Masterlist for more!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #thank y'all so so much #you're fantastic

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supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years

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Part Four

Pairings: Marcus Pike x reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, small bit of angst, fluff.

Summary: you and Marcus finally make it to your sisters wedding.

{Comments and reblogs really appreciated}

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Had you really been that drunk? You we’re pacing the room all the while Marcus was lying in the bed completely bare, not a care in the world. It’s not that you hadn’t imagined marrying Marcus, you loved him, you just could not let go of the hurt. Of course he’s happy, he told you you were it for him. Oh god what were you going to do.

“Will you stop. You’ll wear a hole in the floor. Y/N please, just come here.”

You reluctantly get into bed beside him. You fiddle with the ring on your hand.

“Where did we get rings?”

“Not a clue.”

He pushes you back on the bed lying on top of you. He moves hair out of your face and stares into your eyes with adoration. “You know I’m not unhappy about this, I love you, I always have, I think even when I was with Theresa. Sure, it didn’t happen how I planned but.”

“You had a plan?”

“Oh yeah, the ring and everything.”

He began to explain when you reached up and kissed him. He was stunned but quickly kissed you back. You parted your thighs to allow him lie his body against yours.

“You are wearing far too many clothes.”

“I suppose I am, aren’t I.”

He moves off you to let you sit up and undress. Once you strip out of all your clothes and throw them on the floor he’s on you again. It all happens so fast you can’t think straight. He grabs your ass and thrusts into you in one quick movement. You can feel every ridge of his thick cock as he waits for you to adjust to him. You lock your ankles behind his ass, urging him to move. His hips pivot into you and he’s hitting that sweet spot over and over. You can’t help but scream his name, your pussy clenching tight around him.

“So…..tight…not gonna..”

He buries his head into your neck as he comes, hard, filling you with his come. He falls on top of you, careful not to crush you. You run your hands through his hair eliciting a moan from him.

“What….what do you want to do….about us?”

Marcus lifts his head to look at you, before leaning in and kissing you gently on the lips.

“I already told you how I feel, I want this, I love you. If you want to divorce, we will but I want to date you. Let’s face it, we will probably end up married anyway.” You snort with laughter, “pretty confident aren’t you.”

“When it comes to you, yeah. You may not want to admit it, but I know you love me too. Before you say anything, I’m sorry about everything, if I could go back I would, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” He’s looking at you, waiting for your response.

“Ok.”

“Ok, you wanna make it work, or ok you want a divorce?”

“Ok I want to stay Mrs. Pike.”

“I love you Y/N, so much.”

“Ok ok we really need to get dressed and find a car. You have not seen my sister when she’s angry, it isn’t pretty.” He pulls out of you and grabs a wet cloth to clean you, before helping you out of bed.

Marcus checks you out while you try and find a replacement car.

“There’s our two newlyweds, hope he didn’t wear you out last night?”

Your face turns a shade of pink and your lost for words until Marcus comes up behind you. Wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “Oh I definitely tried. Thank you both again for everything, how can we repay you.”

“Oh now you stop that young man, we’re just happy you two are married, such a lovely young couple, so in love. No repaying of any kind.”

“Where y’all headed now?”

“Well we’re trying to find a new car to get us to Mexico.”

“I might be able to help with that. Got a cousin who live nearby, y’all can borrow his truck.”

“Oh thank you, but you’ve done so much for us already, we just couldn’t.”

“Yes you can and you will, James give him a call tell him to get here real quick, these two have a big to go yet.”

“Thank you so much.”

“S’for nothin darlin.”

Arriving at last at the hotel you both quickly check in and go towards your respective rooms.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Most definitely, Mrs. Pike, and you’ll be spending the night in my room too.”

You give him a passionate kiss before walking towards your room. You send Lillian a text to let her know you’ve arrived, not five minutes later she’s knocking on your door.

“Oh my god Y/N, thank god, I didn’t think you’d make it. Arthur’s family are driving me insane. I can’t take it anymore, there so loud and ugh.”

“There not that bad Lils, don’t be dramatic.”

“Alright for you to say, your not marrying into them. Speaking of, how was the trip with Marcus?”

“Oh fine.”

“Fine. That’s it, that’s all I get? Come on I want all the gossip, was it awkward spending all that time together?”

“No it was nice, actually. We cleared the air. It was good.” You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face at the mention of him.

“Hmm Hmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Lillian puts her hands up in mock surrender. “What are you wearing tonight?”

“I don’t know, anything you want me to wear?”

“You should wear the red dress.” She leans in and whispers, “he won’t be able to keep his hands off you.” Your stunned at her comment but before you can ask her anything, she’s gone.”

Red dress it is so!

Previous/Next

Tagging:

Permanent tag list: @lunaserenade @anaaaispunk @maievdenoir @elinedjarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @alberta-sunrise @dihra-vesa @pintsizemama @athalien @loserrlauraa @kirsteng42 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @pascalisthepunkest @dindjarinneedsahug @almaeunice @jediknight122 @colorlesswhispersunknown @stevie75 @rosie-posie08 @jediknight123 @Hauntedmama @greeneyedblondie44 @prettylilhalforc @giselatropicana @phoenixhalliwell @sherala007 @its--fandom--darling @donnaa @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @littlemisspascal @hayley-the-comet @ezras-channel-rat @heartofjakku @drinkingwhileblogging @evyiione @goddessofsprings @maryfanson

Marcus pike: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi @nicolethered @enjolraslover @finerthingsboutique @hocus-chlocus @neenieweenie @a-skov @pascalstheway @strangelittlenobody y@practicalghost

#pedro pascal #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #marcus pike #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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lxvislxdy · 3 years

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Shotgun Kisses pt.2 | Bakugou K.

Links: Bakugou x stoner!reader au & Shotgun Kisses (Read these first!!)

Notes: Firstly, I want to thank you all for the positive feedback my work has been receiving! I’m extremely thankful for ya’ll!! I also want to apologize for the delay in my posting; I’ve been traveling this week, and on top of that, dealing with the gas shortage on the east coast (it’s been HELL). But hopefully things will start picking up again soon! As always, my requests are open, so feel free to send in your requests or questions!

Summary: After apologizing to you, Bakugou is still struggling to get over his mistrust of your coworker, Shinsou. When you invite Shinsou to hang with everyone, Bakugou thinks it will be his final straw. That is, until Shinsou makes a move on someone unexpected. And suddenly, everything makes much more sense, and Bakugou looks completely oblivious.

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warning(s): 18+!! drug use, language (if you are underage, this fic is not for you!)

Bakugou was trying.

He really, really was.

He trusted you, and he hated fighting with you (especially when it was his fault, and he had to apologize), but damnit, that purple haired bastard wasn’t making it easy on him. Still, Bakugou was making an effort, and that meant he was visiting you at work, even though Shinsou was there, too.

“Hello,” Shinsou drawled, a lazy, but definitely teasing, grin spread across his lips. He was leaned up against the counter, half of his purple hair tied back in a knot at the back of his head. “How can I help you?”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath in like Kirishima had taught him. His hands were wound into fists, shoved into his jacket pockets. “Just my regular.”

Shinsou hummed in response, turning to shout over his shoulder, “Y/n! Your loverboy is here!”

Bakugou grit his teeth, willing himself not to snap back at him. Technically, he wasn’t wrong. But he hated the teasing lilt to the other man’s voice.

As per usual, his anger melted away - mostly - when you popped your head around the corner, from the storage room, smiling brightly. “’Suki!”

As much as Bakugou hated your job, you did look cute in your apron, and he was admittedly fond of the free coffee.

You bounced over to him, definitely hyped up on too much caffeine, and wrapped your arms around him. “Hi.” You said, looking up at him.

He squeezed you against him, pulling you in for a kiss, to your surprise. Normally, Bakugou was hesitant when it came to PDA. Of course, the cafe was almost empty, and it wasn’t much of a secret that Bakugou was turning up the heat in front of Shinsou.

“You want your usual?” You ask sweetly, when he pulls away, dopey grin on your face.

Shinsou, who had slipped away during the kiss, calls over his shoulder, “Already on it!”

“Try not to spit in it.” Bakugou says, lowly.

Shinsou lets out a low chuckle, “I’ll try to contain myself.”

Apparently, this banter is friendly enough, because you laugh along with him.

“You mind if I take my break now, ‘Toshi?”

Bakugou swallows down the burst of jealousy at the nickname, fists tightening in his pocket.

“Yeah, no problem,” Shinsou tells you, as he sets the coffee down on the counter. “There you go. One coffee, hazelnut cream, no sugar. Extra bitter, just like you.”

Bakugou sneers at him, snatching the coffee from the counter and grabbing your hand to pull you along behind him. The two of you end up in the alleyway behind the shop, sneaking through the ‘employees only’ door. Bakugou sips the coffee, wishing it wasn’t so good. But damn, if Shinsou didn’t know his coffee. As far as Bakugou was concerned, that was the only thing the guy was good at. (Of course, he didn’t really know him that well, at all).

“You’re very broody today.” You say softly, looking over at him from where you leaned against the brick wall. “Something on your mind?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, sipping his coffee again. “M’fine. Just... tired, that’s all.”

You hum, fumbling with one of your bracelets. You gaze up at him, grinning, “Do I need to call Kirishima to get it out of you?”

“Tch,” He scoffed, marching over to where you stood and leaning down over you. “Smartass.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You both taste like coffee, and Bakugou recognizes the faint, bitter taste of marijuana on your tongue too. He pulls away, raising a brow.

“What, rolling up before work, you delinquent?”

You giggled, shoving his shoulder playfully, though it’s not enough to move him away from you. “Maybe. Gonna rat me out?”

“Hm,” His lips barely brush against yours, bumping his nose against yours. “I’m sure you could convince me not to.”

“Yeah? That easy, hm?” You say, leaning forward to kiss him again, but he pulls just out of your reach. You pout, and he laughs lowly.

“I never said it would be easy.” He answers, smirking.

You feel your breath hitch again, and his lips are back on yours.

“Mm, Kats, love you, but I need to get back to work.” You mumble in between kisses.

Bakugou nips your bottom lip, but concedes, pulling away with a sigh. “Sure I can’t keep you occupied just a little while longer?”

“And people say I’m the bad influence.” You tease, laughing. “Sorry, babe. Can’t. Besides, I know you’re supposed to be getting lunch with the guys, and I’m not gonna be responsible for making you late.”

“Screw ‘em.” He says, planting another kiss on the corner of your mouth.

You smile up at him, shaking your head. “What am I gonna do with you, Bakgou Katsuki?”

“Keep me, I hope.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but it came out much more serious than he’d meant. Thankfully, you don’t press him on it.

“Yeah, and what’s in it for me?” You tease, poking his stomach. You stretch up on your tiptoes to place another kiss on his jaw, voice softer than before, “I’m here till you don’t want me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou kisses the top of your head, “That’ll never happen.”

You turn to go back inside, stopping in the doorway to look back at him. “You coming to Sero and Denki’s tonight?”

“We’ll see.” Bakugou grunts.

“Mhm,” You grin. “I’ll see you there, then. Bye, Kats!”

...

By the time Bakugou shows up, he’s the last one there. Even Jirou, infamous for showing up fashionably late to their hangouts, was already inside, sitting with you and Mina on the floor. The three of you were deep in conversation, clearly already more than buzzed - your giggles and half-lidded eyes gave you away.

Bakugou felt the tug of a smile on his lips, watching you. He was glad the day was over. Finally, he could just relax.

And thats when he saw him.

Shinsou Hitoshi was sitting on the couch, leaning over a wide-eyed Denki to get the lighter off the table.

Bakugou tried. He was trying. But even still, his hands shook with anger.

Kirishima met his gaze, shaking his head, and he didn’t have to speak out loud for Bakugou to hear his usual, ‘Breathe, man. Everything’s fine. Deep breaths. It’s not worth it.’

“Bakugou!” Mina shrieked, “You made it! I told you he’d be here, Sero, you owe me $5!”

Bakugou scowled. “You bet against me?”

Sero shrugs sheepishly.

You grin up at him from your spot by the girls, and Bakugou quickly crossed the room to sit by your side, ignoring the intruder on the couch. As he took a seat, he pulled you close to lean against his shoulder, and you instinctively reached for his hand without stopping your conversation.

“C’mon, Jirou, you should invite Yoamomo next time!” You were saying, “How will you ever get to know her if you don’t talk to her?”

Jirou, uncharacteristically flustered, shook her head. “No way. Absolutely not. Momo doesn’t seem the type to... ya know, any of this. We aren’t really her crowd.”

“So? She likes you doesn’t she?” Mina offers, puffing smoke.

Jirou’s cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink, and she slouches down more. “I dunno... Pass it here, Min.”

“I’m sure we could behave ourselves enough for a night.” You tease, grinning, “We could have a movie night! Totally sober, if that’s what you’re worried about, Kyo.”

A loud groan cuts into their conversation, from across the room, “Yeah, speak for yourself.” Denki says.

“As if you could get through a movie night totally sober, y/n.” Sero snickers.

“Hey!” You shout back, sticking your tongue out at him.

“He might have a point, man,” Shinsou cuts in. He’d been so quiet, Bakugou had almost forgotten he was there. Of course, his luck ran out. “Y/n can’t even make it through a shift sober.”

The room erupts into laughter, though Bakugou stays quiet, rolling his eyes.

“Not true!” You say, blushing as you lower your voice, “You weren’t supposed to know about that.”

Shinsou’s laugh is apparently contagious, as he says, “Are you kidding?!” He breaks into an eerily accurate impression of you, “Hey, man, what can I get for ya? Aw, totally, nice choice! Have you tried the muffins, man, they’re sooo good.”

You burry your head in your hands as everyone joins in on the joke, leaning back into Bakugou to hide. “Fuck you, dude! Fuck you!”

“Holy shit!” Denki and Sero are gasping for breath, “How are you so good at that, man?”

Shinsou grins slyly, reminding Bakugou of the cheshire cat (another reason he doesn’t trust the asshole). “Hey, a man can’t give away all his secrets, huh?”

Bakugou tightens his hold around your waist, mouth downturned into an unhappy scowl.

“I think a movie night would be nice,” Kirishima changes the subject, and Bakugou sends him a small smile in thanks. “I’m sure we’d all like to meet Momo, and if she’s as sweet as you say she is, she’ll totally go for it!”

“Yeah,” Mina says, wrapping an arm lazily around Jirou, “Besides, you’re a total catch, babe! She’ll love you!”

“Thanks guys,” Jirou responds quietly, passing the joint to you. “I’ll think about it.”

You take a few drags, offering to Bakugou, who shakes his head. You don’t push it, blowing the smoke away from the two of you.

“Man, and here I was, thinking you might finally relax some, Bakugou.” Shinsou comments.

Across the room, Denki has slouched against the other man’s shoulder, his feet propped up in Sero’s lap.

“The fuck did you say?” Bakugou snaps, glaring.

Shinsou chuckles, “Relax, dude, I’m kidding.”

“Yeah?” Bakugou growls, snatching the joint from between your fingers. “Fucking whatever.”

He takes a long drag, face red as he resists the urge to cough out of spite. Shinsou raises a brow, mouth twitching into a smirk. His fingers are in Denki’s hair, scratching lightly at his head, and the blonde looks like he could fall asleep any minute, a sleepy smile on his face. Bakugou feels an odd surge of jealousy, and frustration. These are his friends. You’re his girl. What the fuck is this guy playing at?

As Bakugou goes quiet, eyebrows furrowed and face drawn into a fierce scowl, and shoot Shinsou a look. He sighs, rolling his eyes, but silently agrees to lay off.

“You okay?” You ask, leaning back and placing a light kiss on Bakugou’s jaw.

He yanks you into his lap with a huff, pouting.

It takes everything in you not to giggle at him when he’s like this (it’s cute, okay?) but you knew that would only irritate him more.

“’Suki.” You coo, quiet so no one else can hear you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He mutters, frown deepening.

“But-”

“I said it’s nothing, y/n.”

You sigh, giving up and leaning back against his chest. Why did he have to be so stubborn?

Besides, you aren’t stupid. You know he’s unhappy because Shinsou is here. And, by all means, Shinsou is being an asshole. But he’s your friend, and a really good friend (only a friend). You just want the two to get along, and you want to show your boyfriend that he has nothing to worry about! But, as per usual, both boys are being... difficult, to say the least.

After a few minutes it becomes clear that Bakugou’s mood isn’t going to improve, so you go back to your conversation with Mina and Jirou, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. Eventually, he starts to relax, but remains quiet. He’s too stubborn to admit that you know how to calm him down, after all. And, besides, he can’t risk the guys telling him he’s going ‘soft’ (his words, not yours).

As your high reaches its peak, you forget about the exchange almost completely. You’ve moved to lay your head in Bakugou’s lap, staring up at him. You reach for his hand, bringing it to rest on your head and he rolls his eyes, fingers gently scratching your scalp. You smile up at him lazily, blowing him a kiss.

With his hands in your hair, you feel yourself begin to drift off, the conversations around you fading into a low buzz in the background.

Suddenly, Bakugou’s hands stop.

“Kats,” You whine, one eye cracking open to see what was wrong.

Bakugou’s mouth is agape, brows raised, and face red.

“Kats? You okay?”

He doesn’t answer, and you follow his gaze to the couch, where Denki has climbed into Shinsou’s lap. The blonde’s fingers are threaded into his hair, Shinsou’s firmly gripping his waist, and they’re kissing. You sit up, a laugh bubbling in your throat.

“See, bubs?” You plant a small, teasing kiss to his lips. “Told ya you have nothing to worry about.”

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