#I've had to pass him a couple times too in order to do things

[alphashley14]

The dude cleaning my carpets rn sings while he works and he's actually pretty good. No complaints from me. By all means, whistle while you work.

[mockerycrow]

Lately I've been dying with stress induced migraines and was wondering if I could request the 141 or any character of your choosing to take care of the reader suffering from them??

MIGRAINES (Ghost x GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist

[WARNINGS; medicine/drugs, inaccuracy of medicine stuff, inaccuracy of military, fluff, physical hurt/comfort, mention of overdosing, it’s implied you do not have regular sleeping problems.]

You know a migraine is about to come on when you’re looking down at the paper in front of you—something about a past mission—and you can’t see the lower right corner of the paper. You blink harshly and rub your eyes, the blotch not leaving which leads you to believe it’s a migraine aura. A heavy feeling forms in the bottom of your stomach, a weird sensation blooming in the nape of your neck. You put the paper down for a moment and rub your eyes—it’s only Tuesday and this will be your second migraine. 

You feel frustration ebb at your nerves as tears threaten to spill, causing you to let out a shuddery breath. You stand up from the office chair you’re sitting in, near your desk in your barracks. You decided that you should warn the Captain about your aura and that you would need some rest for the incoming day and maybe even tomorrow.

You can already feel the light sensitivity setting in. It doesn’t hurt just yet as you open your door and you’re forced to be under fluorescent lights, but you can tell your tolerance is lower than usual. You offer quiet greetings to those who you pass in the hall, making your way across base to the offices. You squint a bit more, the muscles surrounding your eyes tensing. You can’t help but wonder why they use such shitty lighting in an office space.

You stop in front of a door with a name plate labeled “CPT. JOHN PRICE”, and you knock on the door a couple of times. You hear his gruff voice, saying something along the lines of come in. You open the door and close it behind yourself, looking at Price who is looking up from his paperwork; probably surrounding the last mission like yours is, too. “I feel another migraine coming on, Captain. I came to ask for the day off.” 

Price’s eyes narrow for just a moment in concern. He knows your history with migraines, and how they’re usually induced by stress. “Alright, but you make sure to go see medical if it persists, yeah?” Price says with a lifting tone, but it’s not a question, it’s an order. You go to open your mouth, but Price beats you to it. “I know they can’t do much for you, but those painkiller cocktails are very much worth it.”

You close your eyes as a wave of nausea passes over you, causing you to freeze for a moment. The man in front of you utters your name which prompts your eyes to open back up. His eyes are scanning your face. eyebrows lifting ever so slightly to prompt an answer. You press your lips together and give him a nod; those cocktails are lifesavers, but they don’t last as long as you need them to. You’re thankful for his suggestion anyway. Price gives you a firm nod. “Hope to see you tomorrow feeling better, sergeant.”

“Thank you, Captain.” You reply before leaving his office, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stave off that beginning twinge of pain beginning in the base of your skull.

Something was off—Ghost could feel it in his bones. When you don’t show up for morning PT, he knows something is off, especially when for the second time in a few days, Price hands him a signed off medical emergency paper from you. It contained no details, nothing other than “1 day medical absence” signed by Price himself. It left Ghost feeling uneasy; you are not the type to do this type of thing, even when you had the seasonal flu, it was like the entire 141 had to lecture you to slow down, or maybe even rest a bit.

Ghost half expects you to show up anyway, but just like a few days ago, you are nowhere to be found. Ghost finds some free time a bit after 1500, so he makes his way towards medical. Perhaps you were physically injured? He steps into the infirmary and is met with a few pairs of eyes, a couple of them shocked to see him. “Lieutenant! How can we help you?” A medic at a cart parked against the wall asks, quickly packing up something he was doing. Ghost utters your name, glancing around. “Are they here?” He grunts.

“No, sir,” The medic replies. “They did stop by for some treatment, though.” Ghost’s eyebrows furrow for a moment; treatment? Treatment for what? Ghost doesn’t bother to ask, knowing the medics wouldn’t likely tell him anyway, so he murmurs a shirt thank you before leaving the infirmary. He racked his brain—what possibly could keep you out of commission willingly when not even a GSW would? Ghost then decides right then that he will head for your barracks.

He makes his way across base, going from the infirmary unit all the way across to the on-base barracks. Gears are turning in his head as he tries to not jump to conclusions—is there a physical injury he’s not being told about?—and Ghost is failing. You’re one of the couple of folks who don’t have a roommate, so he knocks with a purpose as there isn’t anyone else to worry about bothering. He waits for a few moments and is greeted with silence, so he knocks again with a loud and deep, “Sergeant?”

Ghost is met with silence again, which doesn’t soothe his nerves. He tries the doorknob and to his surprise—and concern—it works. Ghost slowly opens the door to find your room in complete darkness, the only light being the one from the hall which is illuminating your bed. He sees you hunched over in your bed, wrapped in your blankets with your face half buried into your pillow. Near your bed is a TV tray stand with two plastic bowls with separate washcloths hanging off of the side of the bowls. There’s an orange medicine bottle and a small white medicine bottle next to a half empty water bottle and another full unopened bottle.

Ghost closes the door behind himself as he walks over to you, narrowly avoiding the TV tray stand. He peels back the velcro of one of his gloves before removing it, pressing the back of his hand to the part of your forehead that is exposed. Your temperature feels fine at first so he turns his hand over and presses his wrist to the small part of your forehead and he receives the same result. Ghost blinks for a moment, noting that you have no fever. Immense relief floods over him; he’s not exactly sure why.

He calls your name and puts a hand on your arm, shaking you ever so slightly. You don’t move a muscle, but you’re breathing just fine. Ghost looks over at the bottles of medicine and leans over, grabbing both of them. He reads “Zaleplon” and “Rizatriptan”. With a quick google search on his phone, he finds out they are both prescribed medications, which makes his eyebrows furrow in confusion. You have prescribed medications? For sleeping and migraines? You’ve never mentioned this before.

Ghost puts them back down on the TV tray stand and he shakes your shoulder a bit more forcefully as it seems you’re really asleep. He feels bad, knowing he should just let you rest, but he doesn’t know if you’ve eaten. He has no idea if you have only drunk that one bottle of water all day, if you have left to go to the bathroom—nothing. He calls your name louder which still does not harbor a response from you, making his gut tighten once again.

He knows it’s the anxiety talking, that you would be careful with medicine, careful enough to not take too much—but he can’t help but still worry. Ghost doesn’t know that maybe you forgot you took a sleeping pill before popping another, putting you in a deeper sleep. Your breathing seems fine, so you’re definitely not struggling in that department. Maybe you’re just sleeping heavier than usual?

But what if you did take more than needed? What if this is you in the middle of an overdose? You are indeed turned over, your face halfway smushed into the pillow. That’s enough to strike anxiety into Ghost’s soul so he grabs your shoulder and forcefully rolls you onto your back, a heavy relieved sigh leaving him when he doesn’t see any vomit or excess saliva on your pillow or hoodie. Your skin is its usual color, as well as your lips. Ghost’s fingers grab your wrist to feel your pulse, counting the beats. Your heart rate is fine.

So why are you not waking up? And why is he so anxious about it?

Ghost calls your name even louder and his shoulders relax when he hears a quiet groan leave your lips. Your closed eyelids squeeze together for a moment before an expression of pain floods your face, causing Ghost to press his lips together underneath his balaclava. “There ya are,” Ghost murmurs, putting a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes flutter open and they land on Ghost after a moment. “Ghost,” You breathe out, pain lacing your tone.

The room is dark so you’re both struggling to see each other, but Ghost doesn’t mind. If it helps your head, he will gladly squint. “Have ya eaten?” He grunts out, his voice rumbling and low in his chest. You let out a tired breath and rub your eyes, taking a moment to answer. “What time is it?” You croak, your hands moving from your eyes to your temples. Ghost pulls out his phone, it being too dark to look at his watch. “1321.” He replies, making you inhale sharply and let out a groan. “Shit, didn’t mean to sleep that long.” You slur ever so slightly.

“Did’ja miss a dose?” Ghost questions, and you let out a quiet “mhm”. You hear Ghost reach over to the TV tray stand, but you can’t tell what he’s doing. You hear one of the medicine bottles pop open. His hand finds yours and gives you a pill, and then you hear the water bottle crinkle. “Up.” He orders, and you comply, sitting up just enough to take the medicine. You wince at the change in angle so easily irritates your pounding skull, but you appreciate the soothing water running down your throat. Ghost caps the water bottle and puts it back. You hear water sloshing around and one of the washcloths being wrung out, and you flinch ever so slightly when you feel a cold washcloth being tucked underneath your head and against the nape of your neck.

“When did you start ‘aving migraines?” Ghost asks. His tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s clear he’s confused on why he was never let known. He’s also your superior next to Price, looked over the necessary files. You let your eyes shut, focusing on the cold feeling seeping underneath your skin. You appreciate the man keeping his voice down. “Always had ‘em, but they’re stress induced. They aren't constant.” You reply, your voice also remaining low, barely disturbing the silence of your room. “Had one a day or two ago, guess that shit never left.” You joke, earning a huff from Ghost. “Y’didn’t answer my question. When’s the last time you have eaten?” Ghost inquires, making you let out a sigh. “Mm, maybe 4 or 5 hours ago,” You hum. “I should go grab something soon, helps the medicine kick in faster.”

Ghost shakes his head even though you can barely tell. “No need, I’ll grab it. Are you experiencing nausea?” Ghost stands up from the bed, the mattress leveling out. “A bit, yeah. Could you grab something light on the stomach?” You request, your fingers grabbing your blanket as a warm fuzzy feeling in your gut begins to distract you from the pounding in your temples. “‘Course.” And with that, Ghost leaves you with your thoughts for the time being. You don’t understand why he’s being so nice and generous—it’s not like Ghost is not nice, but he’s usually more teasing and serious about getting shit done. 

To be fair, the last time you got injured, he also took care of you. You had earned a nasty brush with death after being too close to a large explosion. You had been thrown back into a wall, crashing through the other side, earning you a broken shoulder and a piece of wood through the major artery in your thigh—as well as the classic severe concussion, of course. This happened about a year ago and when your shoulder aches, Ghost somehow knows and offers to rub cream into it. It’s similar to Soap’s knee pain, so he knows what to do. Countless nights over a year of rubbing cream into the part of your shoulder that you can’t reach, the words left unspoken between you two? 

Ghost returns with a light meal for you as well as a cup of ice water, knowing it’ll help you more than your room temperature water bottles. Something about Ghost being so domestic over this past year up to now, taking care of you and bringing you food, rubbing cream into your shoulder when needed, when he took you to those temporary physical therapy appointments for your shoulder? Something snapped inside of you and you could never look at him in the same friendly way and by the way he looks and speaks to you, it seems to be the same for him.

[lnfours]

Heyy love, congrats on 12K!! 🩰 could you please do no. 15 from prompt list 2 for Lando, fluff definitely but it later leads to smut? idk i love your writing, write whatever you feel best :)

thank you, love! i've been waiting for someone to submit #15 i'm so excited! i hope you like it <3

prompt #15: fake dating, but having to kiss in front of the family!! "do you trust me?" "i do, [name]" followed by THE KISS

join the 12k and annual celebration!

"lando, that's the stupidest thing i've ever heard." you replied to the man sitting on your couch. the man who had texted you and asked if he could come over to ask you something, and now you were wishing you had told him no.

"please," he begged, "it's just for the weekend and i can't show up by myself, i'll look so lame."

"i mean, you're asking me to be your fake girlfriend for you, but what's in it for me?" you asked, arms crossing over your chest.

he hummed, thinking of something, "free paddock passes for a year?"

you raised your eyebrows, "really?"

"if you agree, then yes."

"alright, fine," you sighed, being caught off by him jumping up from the sofa and wrapping his arms around you in tight, appreciative hug, "you're so lucky i'm a good friend."

and that's how you found yourself here, standing in the middle of the reception venue, his arm linked with yours as he introduced you to his hometown friends.

the dj's voice sounded over the outro of the song he had been playing, the tune changing to a slower song, "the bride and groom would like to invite all the couples to the dance floor for a dance."

lando leaned down to your ear, the arm that was linked with yours now moving to place his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the dance floor, "c'mon,"

you smiled at the friends of his you had met, bidding them a wave as you let him lead you to the middle of the floor. his hand found your waist, yours wrapping around his neck, hands conjoined at the side as your bodies slowly moved to the song.

"your friends are nice," you smiled, "not sure why they hang around you, though."

he chuckled, "ha ha, very funny."

you laughed softly, watching his eyes dance around your face. yours did the same, giggling softly when he lifted his hand towards the ceiling, spinning you in place.

"have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he asked, a smile still on his lips.

"about four times," you chuckled, "but i'm not opposed to hearing it again."

"well, it's true," he said, "you look stunning."

you smiled, eyes meeting his green ones that you couldn't help but notice had an extra sparkle in them, "you look good too, lan."

he was still smiling, but he looked out at the crowd around them. seeing the different couples you were surrounded with share smiles and quick kisses. his heart dropped, in order to really sell this, he'd have to kiss you.

you saw the expression on his face change, your eyebrows furrowing, "what's wrong?"

he licked his lips, meeting your concerned eyes before taking a deep breath, "i think we have to kiss."

your eyes widened, "sorry, what?"

"all the other couples are kissing," he said, "i mean, we don't have to if it'll make you uncomfortable, but i think it'd look weird if we were the only couple who didn't."

you took a deep breath, nodding, "okay,"

"hey," he said softly, lowering his head to meet your eyes, "do you trust me?"

you nodded, "i do, lando."

"good." he said, moving the hand that was placed on your waist up to your cheek, cupping it in his palm. he leaned in, the smell of his cologne taking over your senses as his lips met yours. you kissed him back, your lips moving in sync.

he pulled away, lips swollen as your forehead rested against his. he smiled, "see? perfect."

you chuckled softly before he spoke again, "can we do that again?"

you laughed a little louder, leaning back in towards his lips nonetheless, “right now?"

"right now." he nodded, leaning down and kissing you again.

[watchmegetobsessed]

MISTAKEN HATRED

A/N: okay im veeery nervous about this one bc its the longest story i've written in probably months and it took me sooo long to finish it so im just praying its not utter shit 🙃 anywaysss, happy holidays guys! it's not overly festive, but it has some vibes so im labeling it as my xmas fic haha feedback is always appreciated! 🎄

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

SUMMARY: Things don't go as smooth as you planned with your bakery's opening, but you're doing your best to overcome the struggles. However there is one person who is hating on your business as if it was his job: Harry Styles. You just wish you knew what you did to earn his hatred...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This is not how you imagined the last weeks before your official opening. 

You imagined the interrior to be fully done by now so you can focus on the last touches, ordering the right ingredients and promoting the opening.

Instead, you’re staring at what’s supposed to be your eight tables, intact and put together but it’s all in pieces. You specifically remember the website said they would deliver them done and you wouldn’t have to play puzzles. But they arrived six days late and very much not the way they promised. 

Taking a deep breath you stare up at the ceiling and decide to take the trash out before turning your bakery into Ikea.

“It’s alright. I can do this. I can do anything,” you keep telling yourself as you drag out the trash bags that are almost the size of you. 

You knew opening your own business would be tough. Especially in Eroda, the little town you have some of your earliest memories from, where your grandma used to live, the place that was closest to her heart and it breaks yours to know she couldn’t spend her last years here because she was too sick to live on her own. 

She never asked you to come back here, but the moment you found her recipe books the summer after she passed, you just knew what you had to do. Now it’s been three years and you’re finally opening Nana’s that will bring her warmth and love back to Eroda, or you hope so. 

Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you keep dragging the bags to the containers behind the small shop and you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t even notice the two people just a couple of feet away.

“Hi, Love!”

You recognize Anne’s sweet, chirpy voice and a smile spreads across your face even before you look up, but the moment you see the person standing next to her, all joy just drains from your body. 

Harry Styles is standing as grouchy and arrogant as always next to his mother, hands hidden in the pockets of his fleece jacket, his unruly curls are tucked underneath his beanie and any normal woman would be into the man, but you. Not after he very clearly let you know you don’t belong here and you should take your business back to the city where you came from. 

You expected some resistance, not much has changed in town in the past decades and you had a feeling some might want to keep it that way, but you guessed older people would riot against your bakery, not a thirty years old grown man. 

“Hi Anne,” you smile back and mustering up all your strength you throw one of the bags into the bin, but you overestimated your muscle work, because it only falls to the edge and almost topples right out. Luckily, you grab it just in time and push it in.

“Oh, dear, those bags are bigger than you! Harry, help her!” 

“No, it’s alri–” 

Before you get to protest, Harry strides over to you and grabs the remaining two bags as if they weighed nothing and throws them into the bin without breaking a sweat. 

Of course he is fit, the man probably runs up the hill carrying twice his weight every morning, because that’s how you can imagine him working out. 

Though you shouldn’t be imagining anything about him.

“Thanks,” you purse your lips and square your shoulders as you face the two of them.

“How is everything coming together?”

Anne has been so enthusiastic about your bakery, she comes around probably every other day, checks in on your progress and always offers her help. 

“Um, it is… okay, I guess,” you let out a tired chuckle. Glancing over at Harry you see him looking to the side, as if he wasn’t even listening, but something is telling you he is very much focused on the conversation.

Yeah, that’s right, I’m still here! Not even your arrogance can chase me away!

Anne cranes her neck, peeking into the shop and she spots the pile in the middle.

“Oh, are you planning to put those together by yourself? Harry, why don’t you help her?”

The moment she suggests, you both protest.

“No, there’s no need.”

“Mum, I don’t really have the time,” he says at the same time, but it doesn’t seem to go through. Anne’s phone starts ringing and she excuses herself, leaving the two of you there. 

Great, this is all you were missing today, an awkward, forced situation with the man who wants to see you gone. Perfect.

“Should’ve ordered them done, don’t you think?” he speaks up, nodding towards the shop.

At first, you just blink at him, then close your eyes and when you open them, you have the fakest smile on your twitching face.

“What a wonderful idea! I totally did not think of that!”

“Then send them back and ask them to bring what you ordered.” He rolls his eyes and it’s irking you so much. You definitely don’t need his stupid advices, not when you’re terribly behind your schedule.

“They arrived almost a week later than they should have, if I send them back there’s now ay they will send me the new ones in time for the opening.”

Harry stands there, staring at the pile of furniture pieces inside and for a moment you think he might actually offer his help, which you’re not sure you’d have accepted, but it remains a mystery, because that’s not what he says when he speaks up.

“I’m busy for real. Mum likes to offer my help around without asking me.”

It takes you a couple of moments to figure out what you feel about what he just said. And when you finally do, you see red.

“As I said, I don’t need help. I did everything by myself and I will get this done as well. I don’t need your unwanted, half-assed effort to pretend like you’re helping me.”

You come off rougher than you probably should have, but he’s been bugging you ever since you moved to Eroda. The man knows nothing about you or your business, yet every time he comes near your shop he acts like it physically pains him to even look at it. He’d be the last person you’d ask for help, he doesn’t have to act like he has so much to do and doesn’t have the time to help when he doesn’t actually want to help. 

Harry stares at you with such intensity you almost break and stutter a sorry out, but that’s when Anne returns.

“Ah, we have to run. But I will come by tomorrow, Darling. And Harry can hel–”

“No need for help,” you smile at her as gratefully as you can force yourself to be in this moment. 

“Alright, then see you later,” she waves and you nod at her before your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before they walk away and you return to your shop. 

It takes you six hours to assemble the tables later that day, but you do it.

With no help. 

Moving to Eroda, it hasn’t been your only goal to have your business become part of the town but you also knew you’d have to become one of the locals as well. Only a handful of people know who your grandmother was and you don’t plan to reveal it until the opening. You want them to taste all the baked goods and think of her first and then put the picture together. But this means you’re a total newbie for most people around. Last time you spent more than just a day here was when you were sixteen and you’ve changed a lot since then, so it’s natural people don’t recognize you. 

Anne has been your biggest help in breaking the ice and involving you in as many things as possible so you get to meet the people of Eroda. The weeks leading up to Christmas are usually filled with all kinds of winter activities locals enjoy wholeheartedly. Concert by the town hall, decorating the trees at the main square, collecting donations and cooking for those in need for example. You’ve been to all of these and very much enjoyed being part of the community. This weekend however, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the new festive activity.

Ice-skating on the frozen lake.

It sounds nice and fun, but you’ve ice-skated only once in your life and ended up breaking your wrist. Not your favorite childhood memory for sure and you don’t exactly want to relive it as an adult. 

You arrive with the intention of just sipping some hot tea and watch everyone else skate around until your fingers are falling off and you can go back to the shop to finish putting up the tinker lights at the back. 

Anne however had different ideas about today. Because as soon as you arrive at the lake, she is waving at you, holding up a pair of skates and you know they are not hers, because she’s already wearing those. 

“Kick those boots off, Love, I brought you my old skates! Come join us!” She smiles brightly at you from next to the pier where people get on and off the ice. 

“Oh, no, I don’t skate, Anne, but thank you!”

“Don’t be silly, even Bernie is on the ice!” She nods towards the old man who must be at least eighty, sliding on the ice as if he did this all his life. He might have, you have no idea.

“It’s really not for me, I–”

“Just try it! Come on!” 

She drops the skates by your feet and then slides away, leaving you no chance to protest.

Staring down at the skates, you can feel your stomach churning, but as you look up you see that literally everyone is on the ice, you’d look weird standing on the pier on your own. 

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you give in and sitting down you start peeling your boots off your feet. 

“You’ll break your ankle if you leave it that loose.”

You know the voice and it just adds to your stress even more. You see his black skates in front of you as you’re trying to lace your own up.

“Hi Harry, so good to see you again,” you hiss through your teeth. 

“Tighten it or you’ll fall.”

“I’ll fall either way,” you mumble as you go back and pull the laces tighter. When you’re done you straighten up, but remain sitting on the end of the pier, anxiously string down at your feet. Harry doesn’t speak, but you know he is still there, probably watching you, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, why you’re not just standing up and going at it like everyone else. 

Your hands are holding onto the wood underneath you for dear life as you picture yourself finally moving, but you never get to actually acting. 

“Do you need help standing up?” Harry speaks up at last and his voice is different this time. It’s not as arrogant, maybe even concerned. Do you look that awful right now?

“N-No.” Your voice cracks and you hate that it’s him who sees you like this. 

“Doesn’t seem like–”

“Would you stop being an asshole for a moment?” you snap at him and finally look up, eyes meeting his examining gaze. You have no idea what he sees in yours, but a few seconds later he breaks eye-contact, looks around as if he is hesitating before he sits beside you at last.

“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“Tell that to your mother,” you mumble under your breath and it makes him laugh.

The sound of it is actually nice, surprising, but nice to hear something other than insults coming from his mouth.

“She can be a bit too much, but she’s just too enthusiastic.” You sit in silence for a bit before Harry turns to you. “You really don’t have to skate.”

“I want to take part, I just… I broke my wrist on the ice once when I was a kid and I haven’t tried skating since then.”

You didn’t plan on telling him much, but you felt like you had to explain why you’re being so dramatic. Part of you is expecting him to make fun of you for being scared of skating because of something that happened ages ago, but the arrogant comments never come.

Instead he stands up and when you look up at him he is holding a hand out to you.

“I’ll help you. You won’t fall.”

Any other day you’d think he is plotting against you, that he would get you to trust him and the trip you the first chance he got, but not this time. He looks and sounds genuine and as you take his hand, you put way too much trust into them than you would have ever allowed yourself to. 

You hold onto him with both hands and he keeps you steady as you finally attempt to push yourself up from the edge of the pier. Your knees wobble the moment your weight is on the blades and you instantly feel yourself losing balance, but Harry’s hands wrap around your arms and keep you from falling.

“It’s okay. Relax a bit, you’ll find your balance.” He encourages you and it’s almost strange to hear him so supportive of anything you’re doing, but not breaking your neck keeps you too busy to care about his random act of kindness. 

“Try to move forward.”

“I can’t,” you protest without even trying.

“You can, just relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, it’s not gonna help me relax!”

“Y/N, you’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t relax,” he warns you and you realize how fast you’re breathing and all your blood is being pumped into your head. 

“I-I can’t, I can’t do this, I–”

“Y/N, look at me!” His hands snap to your shoulders and you grab onto his biceps as you look him in the eyes while your chest is still heaving. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re not going to fall. I’m holding you, I promise.”

Focusing on his words you finally forget about your fears and instead, you’re now trying to figure out where this version of Harry came from and why he hid from you all along. 

You’re not one to trust people that easily, but just from this one promise he made, you let go of all your doubts and hesitation. 

“Okay,” you breathe out. Harry nods and his hands slowly slide lower until they rest on your waist. 

“You knew how to skate, right? Before you broke your wrist.” You nod. “Alright, then it will all come back quickly.”

There’s a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his lips and your heart pitter-patters in your chest, but not because of the skating this time. His hands on you are not helping either, because for some reason, you feel heat radiating through the millions of layers you’re wearing where his hands are touching you. 

What is happening?

“Okay, I’ll hold your hand and you just focus on moving forward, yeah?”

You nod and panic rises in your gut for a moment when his hands leave your shoulders, but then they instantly take your hands and you feel safe again. 

Slowly you start moving, inching forward, your hands gripping Harry’s so tight, you’re afraid you might hurt him, but you’d never let go of him, not when you’re getting farther away from the pier. 

“That’s it, you are doing great,” he encourages. “Try to move a bit less rigidly.”

“Easy to say that,” you breathe out shakily. 

It takes time to loosen up even the tiniest bit and not grip Harry’s hand as if you wanted to crush his bones. But as you slowly move around the ice, led by him, you finally get more and more familiar with the feeling of sliding on the ice. 

“See? It’s not that bad,” he smiles when you stop for a short break after circling back to the pier. 

“I still fear for my life, but it’s bearable now,” you nod and he just chuckles.

It looks good on him. His smile is warm and welcoming, it’s a shame it took you so long to see it. You definitely prefer this version of him. 

“Honey, it’s so lovely to see you on the ice!” Anne slides over to you with ease, holding a cup of something warm, probably hot chocolate. 

“Well, it’s not quite my element,” you let out an awkward chuckle.

“You’re doing just fine. Besides, you just snatched up the best skater in town.” Winking, she bumps her hip against Harry’s. Your puzzled look urges her to elaborate. “Harry took over coaching the boys’ hockey team last year, the kids adore him!”

Instantly, you imagine Harry dealing with a bunch of cute kids, cheering on them, teaching them, making them laugh… The image is actually moving something inside you that’s been buried somewhere deep for a while now.

“Y/N, how are things coming together? Everyone is buzzing for the big opening!” Anne does a little dance that makes you laugh, but at the same time, something changes in Harry. 

“Um, it’s going okay. Not how I planned, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure everything will fall into place perfectly. And if you need any help just let us know!” She turns to Harry, looking for validation that he is open to lending you a helping hand as well, but his reaction is not quite what she was expecting, probably. 

“Sorry, I gotta go now,” Harry mumbles quickly, his gaze obviously avoiding you or his mother and he skates away so fast you just blink after him. 

“What’s gotten into this boy?” Anne huffs, but she lets go of it fast, starts chatting about something you don’t quite catch, because you just stare after Harry, watching him slalom between the skaters so fast it’s almost aggressive. 

And once again, you feel like you’re back where you began. He hates you and you have no idea what you did against him. 

Theoretically, opening Nana’s two weeks before Christmas was a great idea, because you imagined all the baked goods people would order for the holidays, you knew it would be a great kick start.

Realistically, it means that now you have to do the last touch ups in the harsh winter that’s as cold as the North Pole. Or at least that’s how you imagine the North Pole.

It’s been non stop snowing for the past three days, the fresh, soft looking snow is now covering every bit of Eroda’s breathtaking view and though it’s very festive and nice to look at it from a warm room with something hot to drink, it’s not as relaxing when you’re still working on the bakery, doing the last bits of decorating and starting the first batches of baked goods, because in 24 hours, Nana’s is officially opening its front door to the public. 

You’ve been here since five in the morning, now it’s four in the afternoon but it’s almost entirely pitch dark outside so it feels like it’s nearing ten. The place is not a mess anymore, but the kitchen is, there’s all kinds of dough everywhere, you’re doing everything you can now so there’s less tomorrow, but even with all the work tonight you’ll be here at five in the morning again tomorrow. 

It’s been hours since the last time you looked out the window, so it fully goes over your head how heavy the snowfall has gotten lately, chasing home every soul from the streets. While you’re covered in flour and keep muttering Nana’s recipes to make sure everything is measured right, there is one more person out there who is still not home, battling the weather. 

Harry has been going around town all day, helping out the elderly with either delivering groceries, or repairing the heating, whatever they needed a helping hand with. He’s usually the person one calls in Eroda when something needs to be fixed.

The roads are now not quite safe to be driving around, but with his jeep he’ll be able to get home just before it gets too bad. Or so the thought, but that is until he drives by the bakery and sees the lights on.

At first he keeps driving, telling himself it’s not his business. But the farther he gets the guiltier he feels and then he turns the car around.

You’re too busy to hear the knocking at first, but then you hear it again and know it wasn’t just in your head. Rushing out of the kitchen you stop in front of the door, because through the glass you make out Harry standing there, the snow already covering the top of his head as if he’s been out there for hours. 

“It’s freezing out here, Y/N! Would be nice if you let me in!” he shouts through the glass and you finally snap out of your surprise, unlock the door and Harry practically runs inside. 

“What are you doing here?” You watch him shake the snow off of him and finally turn towards you. For a moment you forget about how you parted ways at the skating, how cold he turned out of the blue after helping you. 

“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing. There’s a snowstorm out there, you won’t be able to get home if you stay here!”

“Are you kidding me? I’m opening tomorrow, I have a million things to finish!”

“So you’re risking getting snowed in? Were you planning to sleep here or something?”

“Maybe! Yeah! I need to get a ton of dough ready and I still haven’t put up the tinker lights and I need to clean up…”

Harry stares at you with such a vivid look, you expect him to start screaming at you or something. But he just keeps staring until he finally breaks.

“Okay, where are the lights and where do you want them?”

“What?”

“You’ll spend the night here if you do everything alone. I’ll help and hopefully we’ll be able to leave when it’s all done.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him as he is looking around, searching for the lights to start working, but you can’t really believe he is about to help you out when he could be home by now. On the other hand, you could really use the help and maybe finish earlier than midnight, so after pushing your surprise to the side you start instructing him. While Harry works on the lights, you return to the kitchen. 

To test out the dough for the croissants, the one thing you’re the most nervous about because it used to be Nana’s specialty, you decide to make a few and pop them in the oven while you do everything else. 

It’s hard to believe you’re finally at this point, so close to the opening, turning your biggest dream into reality. You wish Nana would be here with you today.

“Lights are done.”

Harry interrupts your thoughts and you wipe your floury hands into your apron before following him out of the kitchen to see the work he did.

“Oh my God, this looks perfect!” you gasp, seeing all the tinker lights run along the ceiling and walls, lighting up the place like magic. 

Harry just nods, pressing his lips together, as if it was nothing. 

“Anything else?” he asks.

“Yeah, I have a few pictures I want to hang up and then it’s all done–” The timer in the kitchen goes off, letting you know the croissants are done. “Let me take them out and then I’ll show you where I want them.”

You rush back to the kitchen and take the fresh, steaming croissants out of the oven, completely missing that Harry has followed you and he is now watching you curiously as you take the baked goods off the tray one by one.

“That smells like…” he speaks up, but the words die on his tongue and you just smile, placing one onto a plate, holding it out for him.

“Here, try it.”

He hesitates, but takes the plate at last. Though it’s still hot and he should definitely wait a bit, it’s hard to resist, you know that. You watch him take a tentative bite and wait for his reaction as if he is about to tell you your future. 

“So? How is it?”

“It’s… it’s really… good. Really good.”

It’s obvious he is having a hard time admitting you did something right, but his face says it all. You just don’t understand why he looks kind of puzzled, but you think it’s just because he didn’t expect it to be this good. 

“I bet the croissants will be the bestsellers,” you chuckle as Harry takes bite after bite until it’s all gone. He devoured it so fast it’s incredible. You couldn’t help but focus on his pink lips while he ate and those tiny sounds he let slip… they surely planted some thoughts into your head, thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of when it comes to Harry.

“Come on, I’ll show you the pictures.” It’s your attempt to clear your mind.

You walk out and grab the box that holds all the framed pictures you want to hang on the walls, of course, all of them feature Nana. 

“Okay, so I thought a few could go over here, and then on that wall as well, and these, I want them behind the counter…” You start explaining your vision, but when you turn around you see that he is staring at a photo in shock. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

You step closer and see that it’s the photo that was taken on your tenth birthday. You’re holding up one of the cupcakes Nana made just for you and she is standing behind you, with her hands on your shoulders. It’s a fond memory, one of your favorite birthdays you ever had. 

“Oh, is it the dungarees?” you ask, pointing at your outfit. “I wasn’t quite the fashion icon back then,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s– who’s this?” he asks, pointing at Nana. You give him a puzzled look, because it’s not rocket science to figure out who the woman in the picture is.

“That’s Nana, obviously.”

“But as in… your grandma?” He finally looks up at you and his face is frantic, as if he is solving a lifelong mystery. 

“Of course, Harry, what is goin–”

“Y/N, Nana was your grandma?”

“Yes!” you laugh in confusion. “Of course she was, that’s why I’m opening a bakery under her name with all her recipes she taught me!”

You can’t read the look on Harry’s face as he puts the photo back into the box and then starts walking around with his hands on his hips. 

“Why do you look like you just learned you were adopted or something?”

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you’re… Nana’s granddaughter. I had no clue.” He runs a hand through his hair and you try your best not to stare at how his bicep flexes in the movement. 

“What? Harry, why else would I be opening a bakery, named Nana’s right here, out of every possible place on Earth?”

“I don’t know!” he admits, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s why I… Okay, this is why I hated the idea so much. Because I knew Nana, I loved her! She was like… my grandma too! And I thought you just chose this name for fun!”

“Are you kidding me?” you huff in disbelief.

“I felt like you were ruining her memory, that’s why I was so against this place. I had zero clue that you are actually… related to her.”

“Oh my God, Harry!” There’s nothing else you can do other than just… laughing. This whole situation feels oddly comical, like something that only happens in movies. 

“I know, I’m sorry!” He exhales sharply and you truly see the regret on his face. “I was such a dick.”

“Yes you were!” you laugh in agreement. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well, now at least I know why you were my biggest hater all along.”

“Not anymore!” He holds up his hands and finally breaks a smile that looks so fucking handsome, it makes you forget about everything in a second. 

Turning to the side he stares out the window for a moment before looking back at you.

“The snowing has stopped, let’s wrap things up and go home, alright? Big day tomorrow.”

You both go back to work, Harry finishes quite fast with the pictures so then he helps you clean up in the kitchen and you notice how obviously different the vibes are now. There’s no trace of his usual hostile behavior, in fact he is so open as he asks you about Nana and how the idea of the bakery came. Then he tells you about her as well, how he has known him for so long and after the passing of his stepdad Nana helped him through the toughest time of his life. You’re surprised the two of you never met when you were visiting, but you believe in faith and it must be because it wasn’t the right time. 

It’s almost ten by the time you’re locking up while Harry is scraping the snow off his jeep. It’s rather eerie to see the town so empty, but it’s also pretty, the untouched snow covering every inch of the scenery. 

“Thanks for the help. And the drive home,” you say when he has parked in front of your house. 

“I’ll pick you up in the morning as well.”

“What? There’s no need, Harry–”

“Just accept the help,” he flashes you a crooked smile. “I have a lot to make up for.”

“What if I say you’re forgiven?”

“Then I’ll do it because I want to spend time with you.”

His answer comes so fast and honest, you can’t mask the surprise on your face as you stare at each other in the dark car.

“Um, alright then. See you in the morning.”

“Good night. Y/N.”

You fumble with the belt and then climb out of the car, still feeling kind of giddy from his words. He waits for you to get to the front door and you wave at him before walking in. Through the closed door you hear the engine roar and he drives away, leaving you with quite a lot to digest.

Never in a million years did you imagine the opening of Nana’s to be like this. The small bakery is full to the brim, there are people everywhere, you haven’t stopped thanking everyone for the love and support and your heart leaps in your chest every time you hear someone talk about your beloved grandma. All the pastries are selling well, but as expected, the croissants are the biggest hit. 

But it’s not just the opening that has you smiling ear to ear.

Harry did show up early in the morning and he’s been helping you out all day as if he was getting paid for his work. In the kitchen, at the counter or by the tables, he’s been a one person army and your hero. You couldn’t have done it without him. 

You have just a couple of seconds to breathe between two customers and you peek over the crowd, spotting him right away by the table his mom and her friends occupy. He just made them laugh and he’s basking in their attention as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his tattooed arms. 

Fuck, he looks so good, it’s criminal. 

Now that he is not an asshole to you anymore, it’s pretty hard not to notice everything you’ve been trying to ignore about him. His charming dimples, his bouncy curls, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, how his nose moves when he talks, they was his hips sway when he’s walking… there is not one inch on the man you can critique.

The situation would be a lot worse if it was one-sided, but it appears that Harry is just as keen on being around you, always touching your lower back when he walks behind you, or brushing your arm to get your attention. 

“I’m seriously writing you a paycheck when it’s over,” you tell him when he returns behind the counter grabbing some cinnamon rolls to bring to the ladies by the window.

“I thought that we were already over this, Y/N,” he smirks and you bite into your bottom lip as you turn back to the customer in front of you. 

It kind of goes by in a blur, there’s so much happening, you’re always on the move and before you could even process the events, the day is over and Nana’s is closing for the first time. After the constant crowd, it’s weird to see the place empty again, but seeing that everything has sold, it finally settles in your mind: you did it.

As you turn the sign on the door your eyes slide over to the picture on the right. It was taken in Nana’s kitchen, you were about six or seven, the two of you are photographed from behind as you stand on a stool, next to Nana at the counter while she is teaching you how to make bread. The memory still lives vividly in your mind even though it’s been over two decades.

“She would be so proud of you.”

Turning around you find Harry behind you with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes on the photo at first, then they move to you and your heart skips a beat.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he chuckles.

“So, I was serious. I owe you a paycheck after today.”

He rolls his eyes before arching an eyebrow at you.

“And I was serious when I said I don’t want anything in return.”

“You’ve been here since six, Harry!” you huff out a laugh. “I would feel so bad if you just went home without anything.”

He stares at you for long moments and you start to think he’ll just let you suffer with your guilt, but then he speaks up.

“Go on a date with me then.”

You suck on your breath as your eyes lock with his.

“What?” you whisper.

“Go on a date with me, Y/N. Will you?”

“I-If you’re still trying to make up for–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not. I told you, I want to spend time with you.”

You blink at him once, twice, as if you’re waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he stands his ground with a serious look.

“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” he smirks, snapping you out of your haze.

“Yes–I mean, yes to the date!” you shake your head, clearing up your answer.

“I was afraid you hated me too much to give me a chance,” he breathes out a shaky laugh.

“I never hated you, I was just confused. You were the one who hated me.”

“I couldn’t hate you, Y/N. And believe me, I tried.” You both laugh at his words. “I was frustrated, because I wanted to hate you and this place so badly, but still… I was drawn to you.”

“You were?” you ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“You have no idea how much,” he admits with a soft smile, stepping closer to you. “When we were skating, I totally forgot about everything and just wanted to hold your hand and help you. It was like a slap across my face when mum brought the opening up and I remembered I was supposed to hate you,” he admits with a chuckle and e inches even closer. “I’m glad I don’t have to try to hate you anymore.”

“I’m glad too.”

He is right in front of you, his face only inches away from yours and you suck on your breath when he reaches up and takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head further up so your lips are now perfectly lined up with his.

His eyes move down to your mouth, then up to meet your gaze and even without words you know he is asking for your permission to kiss you. You push closer and he is quick to close the distance and press his lips against yours.

You’d be lying if you said you never imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. Because you did, several times. But nothing compares to having him wrapped around you, his lips so soft yet rough against yours at the same time as he kisses you over and over again while you’re fisting the collar of his shirt so tight your fingers are turning white. 

Maybe you kiss for hours, or maybe it’s just minutes, you have no clue, but when he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, you just know your life is about to turn upside down.

“Changed my mind,” he speaks up at last.

“Huh?”

“About the payment.”

His words sink in slowly and your eyebrows rise.

“Oh.” Harry laughs at your reaction.

“I want my payment in kisses,” he then says with the cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“That could be arranged,” you breathe out when you finally get what he was talking about and grabbing the back of his neck you pull him in for another one. 

And another one.

And some more.

And just like that Nana somehow brought another wonderful thing into your life, even though she is not here anymore.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[ja3hwa]

So random thought, whar if you were a songwriter/producer for ateez and you also happen to be very close friends with them? This is the biggest 3am thought I've ever experienced argh.

MDNI 18 +

-

So it all started when you went over to the dorm to drop off some mix tapes and other files for Hongjoong. You noticed all the members were home, just lounging and doing their own thing. You greeted them quickly before heading to the home studio Hongjoong made. You were expecting to stay long though, after dropping off all the stuff Joong needed, he thanked you and went straight back to focusing on the sound samples in front of him.

You decided to take your leave until Wooyoung shouted down the hall before you got to the front door, asking —more like begging— you to come play at least a round of mario kart cause they were all trying to prove Yeosang was in fact beatable. He just needed the right competitor.

At first, you tried to decline as nicely as possible, saying, "I need to get home before the storm." But all the boys that sat in the louge all pleaded, needing someone to finally prove Yeosang wrong. You sighed, taking off your shoes and plotting yourself down in between Mingi and Yunho. Who were you to turn down a moment of glory anyways...

You ended up playing three rounds before cycling through all the boys in the room. Beating every single one of them.

Jongho suddenly appeared, saying he was going to order take out and that you should also stay for dinner. Yeosang had left with him to the kitchen to make the order, leaving you, san, wooyoung, yunho, and mingi in the longue room. You didn't have time object Jongho's offer as the minute you went to open your mouth in protest, the rain outside got heavier.

Your phone was also dying, and you still had to walk home... you didn't know what to do.

So you went back down the hall asking Joong for a phone charger, which he let you use his. He was curious as to why you were still at the dorms but too focused to ask.

Seonghwa suddenly met you in the hall saying, "You should stay the night. It doesn't seem like the rain is going to let up anytime soon."

"Thanks, but... I don't want to impose." You would reply.

"Nonsense, here I'll give you some clothes so you can clean up." His bright bunny-ish smile made your heart flutter, making you shy away and just simply agreeing with him. This led to you having a shower and giving Hwa your dirty clothes so he could put them in the wash and dryer so you could wear them tomorrow.

And this all ended you up right in this moment, sitting in nothing but one of Seonghwa's shirts and boxers. You were playing with the hem of the shirt as you watched Wooyoung and San set up a card game on the coffee table. Turns out it was a weird drinking game involving truth and dare. But you all were just going to play it without the alcohol.

A couple of rounds passed, Yunho have to bit Mingis ear, San had to spill a secret no one knew about, Wooyoung stripped of his shirt and you had to sit on someones lap for one whole round—it was Mingis—.

It was your turn again to pick up a card. You rolled the dice, and it landed on the number fivex meaning you got dare. So you picked up one of the cards and read it allowed, "Let the person to your left to me you a hickey."

Yunho was instantly blushing since he was the one in fact sitting on your left. He seemed to be giggling like a teenager the minute you caught his gaze. You didn't see much of a problem at first, even though you were freaking at the idea of the Jeong Yunho putting his mouth on you.

"Okay, uh, but it can't be anywhere visible. I have the shoot tomorrow." You warned him, shifting your body so you were sitting, facing him. He grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him without much effort, onto his lap. Now you were the one blushing.

"How about I do it here?" He pointed to the top of your breast that is covered by the t-shirt. You audibly gulped when he said that. You nodded with a quiet "okay." It was so quiet that everyone only barely heard it.

You had to slid the shirt off since you could pull the collar down enough. You used your right hand to hold the piece of fabric over your chest, covering your front as best as you can. You were basically sitting on Yunho's lap in front of the guys, topless.

Your mind was starting to feel dizzy, tilting back a bit, Yunho got a perfect view of the top of your tits. Your soft, plump boobs. He would give anything to grab a fist full of them right now. But alas, Yunho just simply grabbed your hips, pulling you closer before bringing his head down to latch his warm mouth onto your hot goosebumped skin...

AND THEN I WOKE UP!! 😭😭😭 I WAS SO PISSED OFF.... so anywayy ifejjdsj 😖😵‍💫😵‍💫

[often-daydreaming]

Kind of a joke prompt.

I've read countless prompts and fics talking about how the Anti-Ecto Acts affect Danny, Dani, Dan, the heroes, etc, but what if it was just a random bunch of people coming up with a work around in order to finally get rid of a lot the supervillains that were protected by the law.

Like Ben (I don't know why I came up with Ben for this) and a couple of his friends start talking about how certain supervillains can get away with just about anything only to get a few months in prison when one of them brings up the Fentons who are one step away from being mad scientists. Anybody who ever went to school with them is bound to bring them up at least once but they get brought up and eventually everyone ends up joking about how many heroes have 'come back from the dead' since the everyday civilian would probably think they were on a vacation or doing some sort of undercover work whenever they aren't seen out in public for a while. Ben adds on to the idea by bringing up how many supervillains have come back from the dead and it kind of snowballs from there until it finally gets to the dumbest idea any of them have ever had.

How would you kill a ghost, zombie, whatever?

What would someone like the Joker even be considered since he's apparently died on a number of different occasions and is somehow so insane nobody can give him the death penalty. Wait... What was that about the Fentons... Their research... Huh??? Let me see that for a second... That could work... It could actually work. We just have to word it the right way, maybe make up a couple of things to make it sound scary but it could work.

It doesn't even have to be about the Joker. With the number of enemies Luthor has you can't tell me there isn't at least one rich person willing to jump on the chance of legally having a way to get rid of him for good. Cause he's faked his death before, been dying only to transfer his consciousness into a clone body and probably pulled off even more crazy things I don't know about and this insane idea might be just the thing they'd need to finally get rid of him since he'd no longer have any rights if the Anti-Ecto Acts pass.

But then they start hearing about a supposed ghost kid and what's this about a hunter in a mech suit and a biker with a sentient shadow. Obviously he's just a meta. The mech suit guy simply had way too much time on his hands and the biker has to be magic. Just look at the baby hero and his rogue gallery roughing each other up but the Fentons are screaming about ghosts again, they're even on the local news now so we have to double down on everything if we want this to work. Quick, grab a couple of guys and go act like Team Rocket until we've handled things over here. You're O, that's Q. He can be Z if he wants. I don't really care who does what just shove the alien squid whatever back into the portal before a Green Lantern shows up complaining about some sort of space law we've probably broke then go around telling everyone you destroyed it or something. They can't prove we didn't.

Remember, we're supposed to be the 'bad guys' people.

[icyowl]

12:29, a Soshiro Hoshina sick-fic drabble

Pairing: Soshiro Hoshina x reader

Synopsis: teeny tiny drabble with Hoshina and the ever-popular sick fic trope. 700 words.

A/N: I'm sorry about being a little MIA. I've been going through various things since Jan. and for the first time in my life I'm critiquing my writing to the point of being unable to produce anything. Trying to get slowly back into the groove by writing this lil' guy. I promise I'm still here!

-------------------------------------------------------------

“At ease, soldier.” Soshiro said to you as he passed, grinning and relaxed.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, masking your grimace as a smile. Thankfully, he mistook the listless look in your eyes for fondness. Soshiro continued on his way, mind occupied with last night’s rendezvous and how the warmth of your head had felt on his shoulder. If he could ensure no intrusions, he’d do it again right now. He would have to settle for another time.

Soshiro reminisced as he left you behind, your smile and his hand in yours and the way you laughed still on his mind. The base’s halls hadn’t felt nearly as dark or musty since the two of you had started your. . . thing. He might have to advise the captain to get her own relationship; maybe she’d liven up a little.

The sound of someone falling had him rapidly backtracking, coming around the corner to find you sitting slumped against the grimy wall. He hurried over, calling your name, and saw how the dreamy look in your eyes had become languid. Where he’d placed his hand on your back felt unreasonably warm even through the fabric of your suit.

You wouldn’t lift your head to talk to him. Your voice had given in and become hoarse. “I’m okay, sir. Just a little under the weather.”

Soshiro put his palm on your forehead, scowling at the temperature. “Put your arm over my shoulder. I’m taking you to your room.”

“I’m okay—”

“That’s an order.”

You didn’t have much else to say to that. The short journey to your room was spent trying to power through the nausea pulling at your stomach and the embarrassment flooding your face; Soshiro should not be seeing you like this. Your condition was making you walk far too slow for your liking but you didn’t dare stress your upset stomach. If only you could get to your room faster, hide away from his penetrative gaze, but your energy was somewhere far away from your physical body. With every step you worried you’d trip.

“Why didn’t you call in sick?” Soshiro asked.

“While everyone else is doing work?” You had to admit, the others’ resolve was a little infectious. Kafka’s motivational speeches and Shinomiya’s natural talent had given you something to strive for. If a man with absolutely no battle prowess could persevere, then your silly little cold didn’t seem like much of an excuse.

“Rest is important.” He replied.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, “don’t pretend you don’t sneak out for late night practice.”

Soshiro stopped at your room. “I’m not running a fever,” he pushed open the door. It wasn’t far to your bed, thankfully, and you slouched onto it like a shameless drunk. Your shaky arms could hardly hold you upright but at least you could catch a few wheezy breaths. Soshiro’s hand was on your forehead again, occasionally dipping down to your cheeks and neck while he looked over your pale skin. Your struggling breaths were only break in the otherwise quiet room.

“I just need some sleep,” you tried, “I’ll take a nap and be back in a couple of hours.”

“A nap isn’t going to get rid of that fever.” He sang. Before you could say anything he’d already gone towards the bathroom. It gave you time to try and calm your heartrate. The one-man-army that was Soshiro was tending to your sniffles with the same xx he had against kaiju. As if your germs were evil little kaiju themselves. He came back, damp washcloth in hand, and sat on your flimsy, creaky single cot. “Lay back,” he said, hand rising to push at your sternum. Much to your dismay, you gave in under the slightest pressure. Not that there was anyway of fighting him off, anyhow.

“Soshiro—”

“Do I need to pin you down?”

That got your attention. “N-No.”

You couldn’t ignore the heaven that spread across your skin when he placed the washcloth to your sweltering skin. Finally, after suppressing the coughs, sweltering away in your combat suit all morning, and fighting off the dizziness and chills, you let yourself relax. A belly-deep sigh left you in a long rush. If your eyes weren’t covered, you see Soshiro smiling faintly. Genuinely.

[freakyformula]

Pretty like the sun part two

Summary: Reader is a huge Lewis fan and is attending her first race in her life with her brother. She catches Lewis eye and he instantly falls for her.

Writers comment: -

Warnings: Reader is referred to as she/her, reader has a brother, age gap but readers age is not specified.

Word count: about 3,5k

Y/N= Your Name and Y/N/B= Your Name's Brother

Thursday evening

Y/N POV

"His father is coming here on Sunday? I've always looked up to Anthony, he seems like a good father to Lewis. I hope I get a few words with him" Her brother says to himself.

"Lewis asked me about our parents too…" She started. "I told him about them and what they made us go through as kids."

Her brother stayed quiet and she couldn't decide if he disapproved of what she had told the brit or if he was okay with her sharing such personal details about their family.

"How did he react?" He asks

"He thought it was unfair, I guess." She said, thinking back on what he really said. She couldn't admit that Lewis had told her how she deserved to be worshipped and loved like royalty.

She and her brother had arrived at the hotel and checked in. They figured a twin-size room would be enough when they made arrangements a couple of months ago in order to save money. It made perfect sense at the time. But all she wanted now was to undress, take a refreshing bath and lounge on the bed, naked. She needed some space to think. Her brother kept talking as if The Lewis Hamilton hadn't gotten them paddock passes and spoiled them a couple of hours earlier. That was so him, always seemingly calm and collected. She on the other hand, was ready to explode.

Her brother seemed completely oblivious to her nervousness and lack of effort to keep up with his conversation. He must have caught up at some point because he finally stopped talking and looked at her.

"Are you okay? You're awfully quiet, you're not mad I hope?" He asks his sister.

"No! No, I'm not mad." She responds, giving him a weak smile.

"Thinking about Lewis, then?" He asks, afraid to piss his sister off.

"Yeah… I guess I'm just imagining things?"

Her brother seems to ponder for a minute, carefully thinking of a good answer.

"You know what? I know you, and I know that you have a good intuition, so trust it." He says as he sits down on the bed beside her.

"I don't even know if I want to go back to the paddock." She sniffles.

Her brother looks at her with sadness in his eyes and offers her a hug which she accepts with open arms.

They do their evening routines and call it an early night.

She hadn't been able to sleep all night, her thoughts kept racing and she couldn't stop thinking of Lewis and their chemistry the day before. This was more than she ever could have hoped for, not even in her dreams would she even dare to think that Lewis would show this much interest in her. What were his intentions with her exactly? She was dying to know but she knew she would be too nervous to ask. She had been his fan ever since he was a rookie in Formula 1. She knew every single detail about him, his birthday, his exes, she had even memorized most of his race wins. She knew everything about him, and she was the one being madly in love with him no matter how much she hated to admit it, and yet, now when she had the chance to cheer him on the whole weekend, she didn't dare to.

Friday

She's awakened by the sound of her brother scrolling on tiktok. Her brother was up early, way too early for her liking.

She throws one of her pillows his way in a desperate attempt to make him understand to turn the volume down but he manages to dodge it before it does any harm.

She'd managed to sleep for a couple of hours in the early morning. She could sleep a couple of more hours but in that case, she would miss the official start of the race weekend.

Reluctantly, she gets up from the warm bed. She groans in discomfort, and practically drags herself to the shower. When the warm stream of water hits her naked body, she finally feels herself slowly waking up from her slumber.

She looks at herself in the mirror and gasps.

The bags under her eyes are staring at her just as intently as she is staring at them.

She panics for a couple of seconds until she takes a few deep breaths. She remembers that she packed undereye cooling patches. For once, overpacking seemed to pay off.

She puts them on as she's putting together an outfit. She decides on a black midi dress.

It complements all of her features perfectly.

She does her skincare as usual and notes that she can barely see her undereye bags.

"Thank fuck…" She mutters to herself.

She applies some mascara just like the day before and gives her hair a good blow dry to maximize volume.

They have a quick breakfast at the hotel before they leave for the track.

Lewis POV

He had a good nights sleep behind him. He woke up with a smile on his lips as the first thing that came to his mind as he awoke was her.

Last night he was thinking, on his way back to the hotel. Was he too blunt and forward with her earlier? Was he about to scare her away? These were all questions he wanted answered. He knew she was timid. On the other hand, he had taken care to not come across as flirty, deciding that acting friendly would be the most appropriate choice.

He had a quick workout scheduled with Angela and he ate a light breakfast after. He made his way to the paddock in good time before FP1. He sat in his drivers room, having already changed into his fireproofs and his race suit was tied around his hips until someone from the Mercedes staff knocked on his door to let him know that his friends had arrived.

Lewis felt his heart skip a beat. Finally, he would get to meet her again! He quickly jumped into his racing shoes and found his way down to the garage.

He looks around and finally sees them, at the same spot as the day before. Both seemingly waiting for him nervously. She looks even more nervous today than yesterday.

"Y/N, Y/N/B! I'm so happy to see you both!" Lewis exclaims, holding out his arms.

Y/N POV

Lewis walks towards her and her brother with a wide smile and seems to expect a hug from her. She reluctantly walks towards him and they meet halfway, accepting the hug he offers.

"Hi Lewis." She chuckles and looks down, feeling flustered.

"I know this sounds crazy but I've missed you." Lewis admits.

She looks up at him with a confused look on her face. Confusion soon turns to a smile. She turns to her brother for moral support, and he walks up and gives Lewis a handshake.

"Once again, thank you for letting us stay here, Lewis!" He says.

"Oh, don't worry about it! Thank you for being such good company yesterday." Lewis waves off her brothers concern.

Lewis is called off to prepare for FP1 but before he leaves the siblings, he follows them to the seating area of the garage.

"Good luck!" Her brother says and sits down.

"Drive carefully, yeah?" She asks him and that earns her a smile from Lewis.

"Are you worried about my safety, Y/N?" Lewis asks.

She looks at her brother, waiting for instructions on what to say. "I guess I am." She finally admits.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. Remember, I'm not a 7-time world champion in vain." He winks at her before he walks off to make final preparations and go through the final details with Bono.

The siblings follow the whole 90-minute session carefully and with much nervosity.

"He's doing fine so far" They ascertain.

She glances over at her brother that is biting on his nails and fidgeting with the buttons of his navy blue shirt.

Her brother wasn't usually cheering on anyone specific but today, he would only cheer on Lewis. Her brother hasn't admitted it yet but she knows that he's impressed with Lewis. He would admit that Lewis is one of the best in Formula 1 history but he wouldn't let more than that slide. Her brother used to be a big Kimi and Seb fan, especially when they were teammates at Ferrari. Now they're both retired and she's guessing he still hasn't found anyone worthy of cheering on. She knows he has a weak spot for Daniel and his humour, and judging from their laughs yesterday, they got on really well.

Lewis seems to struggle a bit, coming to the pit every couple of laps to make modifications and tiny changes to the car. George is doing better and gets some solid laps in. At last, with a couple of minutes to spare, Lewis gets a couple of good laps in too.

Lewis ends up 5th, after Lando at 1st, Oscar at 2nd, Max at 3rd, and his teammate, George at 4th.

Lewis looks disappointed when he unbuckles and gets out of the car, shoulders slumped and shaking his head. He walks up to Toto and Bono to discuss the issues with the car. After a while, he looks their way and gives them a wave. Her brother takes that as an invitation to walk over to the brit and drags her with him.

"Toto, Bono… This is Y/N/B and Y/N!"

The siblings shake hands with the men and they all agree to have lunch together.

Her brother is talking away with Bono as he's studying mechanical engineering himself and is interested in the topic.

Lewis excuses himself to go and change, but before she can panic Toto takes over.

"I saw you walking around the garage with Lewis, how do you know each other?" Toto asks, obviously nosy.

She thinks about telling a white lie at first but decides to tell the truth. "We don't actually, he invited us in here yesterday."

Toto stares at her with a confused look and continues, "That's interesting, he's never done that before. But I trust his judgement, you're both very welcome to the Mercedes family!" He says as he gives her a reassuring pat on her shoulder.

Before she can thank him Lewis walks up behind her and startles her.

"Oops, I'm so sorry Y/N." Lewis says as he quickly puts his hand on her back to keep her steady.

She sees Toto and Lewis exchanging a grin with each other and all four of them walk off to hospitality for lunch.

Lewis eats light while the rest eat to their hearts content. The british food has never tasted better.

"We're sorry if we keep indulging you, Lewis." Her brother cringes as he realises, putting down his pudding.

Lewis only responds with a shake of his head and encourages them to keep eating.

As they're all done, they walk down to the garage again.

All of a sudden your brother realises that he's supposed to meet up with Daniel and Yuki before FP2. She panics slightly, not wanting to be left alone in the garage. Lewis looks around for someone from the crew who could keep her company.

Toto looks at her and decides to take her under his wing.

"You can go, I'll keep an eye on her" He says with a reassuring tone.

She instantly calms down, knowing that Toto would take very well care of her. He takes her to his chair and sets another chair down next to his.

"Here, you can sit here with me if you want." Toto smiles down at her.

He's tall, and yet, she feels comfortable with him instantly. He's got that look to him, his aura oozes over with kindness.

"Would you like to see my drivers room, Y/N?" Lewis asks. She looks between Toto and Lewis, looking for permission to say yes, perhaps.

"Y-yeah" She says while looking at him with wide eyes.

"You need to hurry" Toto yells after them as they leave for the second floor.

The room was dull, a sofa, a desk and a wardrobe with everything a Formula 1 driver could possibly need. Lewis walks over to the sofa and sits down.

"What do you think?" He asks.

"About…?" She teases.

"The room!" He laughs.

"Well… it's tastefully grey and small." She says, sarcasm evident in her tone. "The carpet is the ugliest thing I've ever laid my eyes on" She adds. Lewis laughs and watches her sit down on the chair at his desk. She crosses her legs and waits for him to say something, but he never does. He just sits there, with that wide adorable smile of his.

She can feel the butterflies fluttering in her chest and stomach and looks down in order to avoid his eyes.

"Why did you bring me here?" She finally asks and looks directly at him.

He surely didn't expect that question because he scratches his neck and looks away, staring at himself in the mirror instead. Finally, he gets up and kneels before her.

Lewis POV

Panic, what was he going to say?

That he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen? That he was falling for her, hard? That he had their future already planned out in his head?

No, he can't do that to her. He needs to take it easy, for her and their relationships sake.

"So, Y/N…." Before he gets the chance to continue his door flies open and a stressed George walks in.

"Fuck sake mate, have you ever heard of knocking?!" Lewis exclaims, clearly annoyed about the intrusion.

"Yeah, fuck sake! FP2 starts in 10 minutes!" George argues back.

Lewis groans, quickly apologizing for how things turned out. He leads her back to the garage and places her next to Toto.

"See you later?" Lewis softly asks her.

"I'm sure you'll find me in the same spot" She says as Lewis pats her back and turns his heel and jumps into the car, feeling ready for FP2.

Y/N POV

"Nervous?" Toto asks.

"A little…" She admits. "Do you ever get used to it?"

Toto looks her in the eyes, "Yes you do, it only takes a couple of weekends. Maybe it's different when it's a loved one in the car." Clearly assuming that her and Lewis are more than friends.

"I-I'm sorry, me and Lewis are only friends. Nothing more." She quickly counters.

"I've seen the way Lewis looks at you, that's all I'm going to say." He says and looks away at the screens.

Toto hands her a headset to wear during the session. She listens in to Lewis and the communication between the mechanics and engineers.

"Good job, George! Now, Lewis, do you think you're be able to pull off a P1 or 2?" Toto asks his number one driver. George had just given Toto the best time of the session, placing himself first. Lewis drives the lap of his life and puts himself first, most likely disappointing George in the process. Never did she think she'd be have a chance to look at a Mercedes 1-2 this weekend.

Working on some last details on the car had paid off and the whole team seemed hopeful for a win this weekend. Especially Toto, who sat staring at the data with a grin on his face.

He tears his stare from the screen as he escorts her to Lewis who happily takes her into his arms, surprising her.

"Only friends, huh?" Toto teases.

Lewis gives his boss a nudge, probably wishing for him to shut his mouth.

"I need to shower and do my interviews, will you wait for me at my drivers room? If you want to, we can meet up with your brother and maybe have dinner? I know a small Italian restaurant not far from here."

"Sounds like a good plan, Lewis. I'll wait for you." She says and starts navigating her way to his drivers room. As she's walking up the stairs she crashes into George. She lets out an audible gasp as she runs into the taller Brit.

"I'm so sorry, I-I really didn't mean to!" She panics, worried about getting on anyone's nerves.

"Heyyyy, I know you! You're the girl from earlier!" He says as he recognizes her from the awkward encounter in Lewis's room.

"I didn't want us to be introduced like that, I'm sorry." She says as she offers him a handshake, "Hi, I'm Y/N!"

George grabs her hand as he greets her, as he's quietly judging her.

"Well hi, I'm George, it's a pleasure to meet you Y/N." He smiles down at her. She feels her nervosity melting away as they make small talk.

As they talk, she realizes that George is even nicer than she imagined he'd be. Is everyone at Mercedes this nice? So far, everyone she had met at the garage treated her like a princess.

George looks at his watch and gasps. "Shit, I need to find Carmen before I get in trouble. See you around Y/N!" And with that, he walks off.

She continues up the stairs to Lewis room. As she sees the sofa, she walks up to it and crashes down. She must have dozed off for a bit because she didn't hear anyone walking in. Only when she feels them touch her arm lighty she bolt up.

"Hey, you were asleep. It's just me." Lewis takes her hands and holds them.

She grounds herself and works out where she is.

"Ready to go find your brother?" Lewis asks. She nods as an answer and they take off. It wasn't hard to find him, he was sitting at the Red Bull garage with Max, Daniel and Yuki. They seemed to be enjoying each others company, laughing hilariously at some dry joke her brother cracked. They walk up to the group and her brother quickly gets up as soon as he sees them. Lewis introduces her to the drivers.

"Daniel, Max, Yuki…" He nods at each of them, "This is Y/N, Y/N/B's sister." The drivers stand up to greet her.

"We were actually planning on going out for dinner, care to join?" Lewis asks her brother.

"Of course!" He says as he waves his goodbyes to the other drivers.

"Hey, what about me?! I feel discriminated!" Daniel blurts out.

The trio look at each other and shrug.

"You can come, as long as you behave" Lewis laughs as he gives Daniel a teasing push.

"Hey, I always behave!" Daniel grins at his rival.

The walk to the restaurant went by quickly, they spoke about their results and the interviewers outrageous questions. Daniel and Lewis were really interested in getting to know the siblings and they both took in the moment they had with the drivers.

The restaurant was small and run by an older couple. The interior reminded her of her grandparent's house, warm and cozy.

The two drivers order diet-friendly alternatives, Lewis settling for vegan bean soup and Daniel deciding on stuffed bell peppers. She orders a lentil pasta and her brothers goes for a mushroom pizza. The food was fantastic, and so was the company. Lewis had the genious idea of making a WhatsApp group so they could keep in touch with each other. They ate and talked for what felt like an hour but in reality was four hours at least.

When the server comes with the bill Lewis is the first to bring out his card to pay. Despite everyone's protests, he insists.

When they get out again the sun has set and it's dark. She can feel the air threatening to chill her skin.

"Cold?" Lewis asks.

"A little but it's fine." She shrugs.

Lewis takes his jean jacket off and throws it over her shoulders.

"Wouldn't want you to get sick…" Lewis smiles down at her.

Her brother and Daniel were deep in conversation and didn't notice Lewis and her walking falling behind them, walking slower and getting closer.

"Can I say something, Y/N?" Lewis starts off.

She turns to him, "Of course you can, what's wrong?"

"It's about what I was about to say earlier." He grabs her arm and pulls her closer. "I know we just met but I don't think I can forget about you when I leave for the next race." He says loud enough so only she can hear his words.

"Will you go on a date with me? A real date, without your brother or other distractions, just us two?" Lewis asks, clearly nervous.

She looks at him with wide eyes, unable to process what she just heard her idol say.

"Why me, Lewis?" She asks, tears of joy and fear in her eyes.

"Oh darling, because you're perfect. You're everything I've ever hoped for. I want to at least give this a chance and if it doesn't work out, we can just stay friends? I don't want to lose you."

She's about to open her mouth to speak but as she does she feels Lewis leaning closer, making her flinch away.

"Sorry, it's too early for that." He admits. "Come on, I'll walk you back to the h-"

"I would love to go on a date with you, Lewis. It's just that… I've never done anything like this before and to be honest, I'm really scared and clueless." She says everything that's been building up these last two days.

"We will take it slow, would you be okay with that, Y/N?" He looks deep in her eyes as they keep walking. "What about a date after the race on sunday? How does that sound to you?"

"Sounds good to me" She smiles to herself.

They arrive at their hotel as her brother and Daniel is waiting for the two slowpokes to catch up.

[daydreamerwoah]

Motherly Neighbor Pt. 2

Simon looked at you with wide eyes, raking his eyes up and down your figure. Your face was the same, confused as to why he had on a mask in Emma's house.

She waltzed past you and sat down on the couch across from Simon, "Oh come sit dear," she urged, "Simon here just got back in town last night."

You blinked quickly before going and sitting down next to Emma as she poured you a cup a tea and placed a cookie on a small plate for you. You tried your best not to look at the man sitting on the opposite couch across from you, so you focused on the way Emma made your tea; a teaspoon of sugar and some milk. She handed you the cup and gently took it, taking a sip.

It was odd. You'd never really been a tea person, and being from the States, going to someone's house just for the occasion wasn't something you saw yourself ever doing.

"I usually don't invite Simon over the day after he gets back," she smiled at him, "But since you were coming, I thought you two could meet." she took a sip of her own tea.

"And didn't think to tell me?" Simon asked. His voice was deep, and if you hadn't heard the giggle coming from Emma you wouldn't have known he was being sarcastic.

"You wouldn't have come." she simply put it. A short hum came from his lips that was muffled by the mask making Emma giggle once more. "So Y/n, how are you settling into your place?"

You set the cup of tea back on the coffee table, "Good. Everything's pretty much unpacked. I've just had to order a few things I need, but I'm all settled."

Emma, being the wonderful lady that she was, dove into a series of questions about how things were different here than at your last city, what you did for work and if you enjoyed it, and anything else that came to mind.

Simon's gaze remained on yours as you talked with Emma. He concentrated on the words that spoke of - work, your past that you briefly touched on, and how you'd gotten lost walking back home yesterday.

You walking home alone yesterday and getting lost, made him shift his posture. He unconsciously didn't like the idea of you doing that. Anything could have happened to you and no one but Emma knew who you were. He didn't realize he was in his own head until she mentioned him.

"Simon here works on base." She smirked, "Military." You glanced at Simon, seeing his body tense when she mentioned his occupation. Emma leaned over towards your ear, "He doesn't talk much dear."

He playfully scoffed and shook his head, "I do. But-" he stood up "-I need to head out. See ya later yeah?"

She brushed off his behavior with a wave of her hand and stood up. She excused herself while Simon gave you a curt nod in saying goodbye before she walked him to the front door. You sat there, staring at the spot he was just sitting in. It was.....odd. Having tea with an elderly lady and a man in a mask. You couldn't think too much on it as she came back and took her seat next to you.

"I know he doesn't talk much but... he's good people. Helped me when I fell and broke my hip last year," she said, reminiscing on the incident. Your eyes widened so big at the story and she looked at you and laughed, "Oh don't look at me like that. I'm still here sweeping these old blokes off their feet," she joked.

Emma was a feisty woman. Probably was a true heartbreaker back in her day, and you couldn't help the giggle that left your mouth as she talked about any and everything for the rest of the day. She offered you more tea after you drank the first cup, and insisted on you taking a plate of cookies back to your place for later.

************************************************************************

A couple of weeks had passed and you had two more tea dates with Emma. Simon joined one of those where he talked a little bit more than the previous time. It was usually him telling one of his awful (Emma's words) jokes. Although you found yourself giggle at the fish in a tank one.

One evening you were carrying a huge package from the lobby to your place. It was the rest of your things that had been shipped over and hell was the box heavy. You had set it down twice in the hallway so it wouldn't slip out of your hands.

Just as you bent down to pick it up once more, a deep voice echoed through the hall, "Y/n?" It was Simon.

Out a breath and sweaty you almost cringed at yourself that he was walking up to you, but it was too late, "Oh, hey Simon."

"Need help?" he asked glancing between the box at your feet and your eyes.

"Oh no-" you glanced at his attire. He seemed to be heading out somewhere with his jacket and balaclava on. "-it's fine. I don't wanna bug you with this."

Simon didn't even respond as he bent down and picked the box up with ease. You wanted to protest but he was already turning around and making his way toward your door. You caught up with him and pulled your keys out of your jeans pocket to unlock the door and opened it. Without much effort, Simon walked in and placed the box on the floor in your living room.

"Thank you," you said as he stood back up and faced you. He shrugged his shoulders as if it was nothing for him to do that; take carry that heavy box for you. You smiled as his brown eyes looked into yours.

Simon was an.... interesting guy. Not much for words, yet each time you'd seen him in the hallway or at Emma's his eyes told a lot. Soft, brown orbs looked as if they'd seen everything under the sun and more. Emma explained that he was a Lieutenant, often going on missions so he'd be in and out of his apartment. Yet, she never said exactly what he did when he was gone. But you found yourself wanting to know more about the quiet neighbor.

"If.....y'need anything, just-just knock on m'door when I'm home yeah?" he offered.

While his words sounded stiff, his eyes showed true genuineness in his offer to you. He seemed a bit nervous, but so were you. All you could do was smile at him and nod.

"Okay... I will."

As you led Simon out of the apartment, the door across the hall opened up as Emma walked out of her apartment with a coat on. "Simon.. Y/n... what're y'two doing?" she beamed.

"Just helpin' Y/n with a package," he said.

She hummed and continued to smile, "Well isn't that sweet. You need to help her more often," If you didn't know any better, you'd thought Emma's comment meant something. Yet you didn't dwell on it as she continued to lock her door. "I'm heading to the market. See you two later."

As she walked away, she hummed a tune, leaving you and Simon standing there. An awkward beat went by before he said goodbye to you and ventured down the hall heading out. You stay rooted in your spot in the doorway... confusion across your face about what Emma said.

Help you more often?

*********

Ah I have no idea where I'm going with this lol!

Tags:

@whataneed @romanceloverrrr

[buckets-and-trees]

Unholy Errand

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x female!Reader, God the Bounty Hunter x female!Reader, Ransom Drysdale Word Count: 4k

Summary: You're caught in the crosshairs when a hit goes out for your boss.

Content Warnings: non-consent and dubious consent, cuckolding, bondage, knife play, dacryphilia, oral (m and f receiving), cumplay, spitting, facial/marking, groping, spanking, clothed males naked female, coarse language, mild but irreverent use of religious terminology/themes (we’ve got a bounty hunter who refers to himself as God – we’re not committing hard to the bit, but we are using the bit), use of pet names + no y/n

Notes: I was happily working on some other lovely things last weekend, and then Sunday afternoon, totally unprovoked, a rogue muse crept up and whispered, "Lloyd and God..." and my brain broke, and I told @navybrat817 and she immediately enabled/encouraged the sprouting of this fic (and helped identify exactly who these two would be after). I thought this might be fifteen hundred words... and then it hit 2k, and then 3k, and they still weren't done with poor Reader, so...

Additional Notes: First time writing Lloyd, God, or Ransom in any capacity. This is also straight up the filthiest thing I've gone all in on. Is it the filthiest thing that exists on the internet? Of course not, but my filthiest and READ THE TAGS. This is NOT your standard Aspen fic. But was this a bit of a riot to write? Yep. It had a chokehold on me all week, and I stayed up far too late to finish it off tonight because... if I didn't, life would've prevented me finishing for a couple more days, and I've been too eager to push this out.

The clearing of his throat is what pulls your attention. You look up from your desk, taking in long legs in impossibly tight white slacks showing too much ankle, and a torso clad in a black turtleneck and blazer. A thick mustache lives above his smirk. He was too silent entering the offices, and he knows it, seems to revel in unsettling you. “Lloyd Hansen, the six o’clock appointment.”

“Yes, if you’ll follow me right this way,” you proffer politely, and move smoothly out of your chair, leading him to the door of your boss’s office. You give a short knock and open the door, announcing, “Lloyd Hansen, sir,” as you briefly step inside, holding the door open for the man.

He’s still smirking as he passes by, and then you sweep back out, but not before hearing Lloyd whistle and say, “Fancy shit you got yourself in this office, Ran,” as you close the door on them.

You sigh as you sit back down at your desk. Lloyd is your boss’s last meeting of the night, and he had seemed more than perturbed when he said to go ahead and accept the last-minute request Lloyd had made for the appointment. While this is the meeting of the day, Mr. Drysdale had made it clear he was staying late, which means you are also staying late, so you pull out the file of menus you keep in your desk and begin mulling over where to order dinner from tonight.

There’s a succession of loud thuds on the other side of the wall, and you only hesitate for a second before rushing into the office.

You stop dead, a small cry escaping your lips as you watch Lloyd wrestling Ransom to the ground.

“You may be sorry you disturbed us, sweetie, but since you’re here, be a good girl and close and lock that door so we don’t get interrupted by anyone else.”

You hesitate, staring in horror at the display before you: books knocked off the shelves, everything that’s usually so immaculately placed askew on the desk, a lamp overturned, Ransom Drysdale on the floor of his office with Lloyd Hansen’s knee pressed into his back and both arms pulled taught behind him while Lloyd binds his wrists together with the Hermes ascot scarf ripped from Ransom’s own neck.

Lloyd clucks his tongue. “Lock the door or I start cutting his fingers off. Barnes and Rogers only said they want your boss alive; they didn’t say how much of him still needs to be intact.”

“Do it,” Ransom grunts, turning his head away from you, clearly embarrassed at his predicament.

You turn and slowly close the door. You know there are still people working at Blood Like Wine tonight, and while it’s not likely that any of them will be passing through this wing after normal business hours, it’s probably safer that they stay out than accidentally stumble into whatever this dangerous mess is evolving into. You wished you had suppressed your own urge to investigate.

When you turn back around, Lloyd is unbuckling his belt as he continues to kneel against Ransoms back. He pulls it out, uses it to gag Ransom, giving it an additional tug after already pulling it tightly, and fastens it off.

“There, that’s just about perfect.”

“What are-?” You venture to ask, but he abruptly cuts you off.

“No one asked you to talk, sweetie, now come away from that door.”

You only take two reluctant steps towards them when there’s a scraping of wood that draws everyone’s attention to the opposite side of the room.

A piece of the floor is slowly being lifted from below, pushed out of the way, and then another man pops up from out of the floor. He hefts himself out of the hole in the floor and then drops a duffel bag on the floor, the heavy sound of muffled metal hinting at the equipment he’s brought with him.

“Oh, good, you’ve already done some of my work for me,” the tall, dark-haired man appraises the situation he’s just stepped into.

“Who the fuck are you, and where’d you come from?”

“Clearly you watched me ascend from a trapdoor in the floor.” He stalks over to stand in front of the large mahogany desk and sits back on the edge. “You didn’t think Harlan Thrombey - noted mystery author - wouldn’t have a publishing house full of trapdoors and secret passageways?”

“Didn’t need to, walked right in the front door. Still waiting to find out who you are.”

“God the Bounty Hunter.”

“Ooh,” Lloyd cocks his head, and another one of his smirks returns, “I can’t say I hate the audacity. Very bold. But there are a lot of gods and only one Lloyd Hansen.

“Now we’re clearly both here because of the hit put out for this prick, but since there are two of them and two of us, why don’t you make yourself useful, God, and tie up this little Margaret while I get Ransom nice and comfortable here.”

“With pleasure,” God says, and beckons you over to him.

The way he fixes you with his gaze is so intense you can’t to resist his silent command. He stands when you’re just a foot or two away, puts a ringer under your chin to tilt your head up, and looks down into your face. You don’t dare look away, nor do you want to, for some reason.

After another moment, he lets your chin drop, and God begins to circle you, looking you up and down. You hold very still. “You don’t need to be tied up, do you? You like to behave, to be praised.”

Lloyd lets out a loud, longsuffering sigh. “Fine, it can be more fun when they’re tied up, but I’m not picky as long as I get what I want.” Then his tone changes, directing his next words at you. “Understand, sweetie?”

You nod.

“Good.” With that, Lloyd pushes his knee roughly into Ransom’s back, drawing a painful groan from the bound man, before standing and hauling Ransom up with him. He shoves Ransom down to sit on the couch that faces the desk in the small entertaining area of Ransom’s office. “Now Relax, let me pour myself a drink. No reason we can’t enjoy ourselves for a few minutes, for old time’s sake.”

While Lloyd pours some bourbon, God steps right up behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of him. He moves your hair off your shoulder, and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You be very good, and I’ll make you my angel.” You can’t help but shiver - it’s the heat of his breath at your neck and the promised threat - and you know he notices your reaction, because there’s a soft, dark chuckle before he presses a hot kiss to the base of your neck. His hand comes around to your front, toying with the edge of your open collar, and then he lightly draws his index finger along your clavicle and then up the other side of your neck. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you gasp when his other hand quickly pushes a small piece of metal right below your ear.

“And what’s that?” Lloyd asks, not missing the tagging.

“A little incentive for obedience,” God answers. “Fifty-thousand volts when fully unleashed.”

There’s a non-electrically generated jolt in your stomach, but it’s not pure fear, it’s tinged with a little adrenaline as well.

“Huh. To each his own. Now down to business, Ran.”

God steps back and then leans on the edge of the desk again. He pulls you to stand between his legs, your back up against his chest, and his hands settle on your shoulders. Standing against him like this has your hips aligned with his, and you have no doubt it’s setting the stage for his intentions, even if it seems harmless enough now. It mimics a familiarity between partners that is both soothing and unsettling.

Across the room, Lloyd takes a seat on the other side of the couch from Ransom, drink in one hand, and draping his arm casually along the back of the couch. “It was quite a convenient circumstance that even had me nearby to make this social call Ransom. Couldn’t be happier that I’d get to drop in on you for something like this. Ransom and I both went to Yale, you know,” he tosses this part across the room to you and God. “Even ended up in the same fraternity. But he was a senior, I was a freshman. Didn’t spare me the time of day except for the hazing, right?”

His focus shifts back to Ransom, who only gives Lloyd a cold stare, unmoving, clearly not wanting to give Lloyd the satisfaction of any emotional reactions.

God’s hands shift from your shoulders and begin to stroke up and down your arms.

“Why am I boring us all with the backstory though? Old college buddies is pretty typical. You know what’s not typical? Barnes and Rogers putting a bounty out for someone. They’ve got their own guys, and you’re not hard to find.”

The hands move from your arms to your waist, moving up and down your ribs, and still Lloyd keeps talking.

“So, either you’re too important and they wanted the closest person available to pick you up and make a rush delivery to their door, or you’re not important enough for them to want to dispatch any of their own men to deal with you. Outsourcing because you’re still an inconvenience to them, and they can’t let you go unpunished.

Strong hands on your hips.

“Maybe you can prove to be useful tonight, sweetie. How long have you worked for Ranny here?”

You don’t know if you should be surprised that he’s turned his attention to you for questioning, but you do your best to keep your mind focused as you answer him. “I’ve worked for Mr. Drysdale for – oh –” God starts rubbing circles over your hipbones, applying more pressure and pushing you back against a very prominent erection “– a little over seven months.”

“Mr. Drysdale, eh?” Lloyd’s perennial smirk grows, and he tilts his head, tsking again. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re not assisting him after hours, I told you we were in the same frat, so I know what this bastard gets up to.”

Your mouth drops open a little, and Lloyd looks from you to Ransom, whose cold stare has turned into an unmistakable glare.

“Oho! So, she does only assist you professionally?” Lloyd laughs, seemingly out of genuine amusement. “You really are useless, Ranny.”

God is still relentless in touching you, exploring over and even under the clothing, one of his hands sliding down your leg to slip under your skirt to skim up your thigh, and the other stroking just under your breasts, calculated touches to evoke responses but not yet to take or give any more satisfaction.

Both strangers are demanding your attention, and you’re almost evenly divided between Lloyd’s words and God’s actions.

“She probably would’ve slept with you the first two weeks on the job, but now she’s gotta know you’re an insufferable prick.”

Would you have? You don’t think either statement is true. You were never drawn in by Ransom, and since working for him, you’ve only been focused on doing your job well, getting a good paycheck, and going home. Ransom wasn’t particularly demanding compared to other executives, and so you had only wanted him to continue to respect and rely on your assistance so he’d find you indispensable and raise your salary regularly.

God finally speaks again. “We should let the man see what he’ll never have.”

Lloyd sits back in the chair. “I’m not opposed.”

Your face burned. There was no question what he meant, and you did not want Ransom to see you on display, but Lloyd is intimidating and God is intoxicating, so you can do no more than comply as God unzips your skirt and pushes it to the floor.

Next he turns you around and works on the buttons of your shirt, in no hurry, putting your ass on display for Lloyd and Ransom while torturing you with more of the heated, intense eye contact that makes you nearly forget to breathe.

You’re only warned that Lloyd’s behind you when God looks over your shoulder, and you turn your head, but before you can fully face him, his hand has come down against your ass with enough force that you fall against God’s chest. He spanks you again, harder, and you whimper in God’s arms, your head falling against his shoulder with the sting and shock and humiliation.

Then, in another quick turn of events, Lloyd grasps the waistband of your panties with one hand, and you briefly feel the chill of metal against your skin as he slips a knife under the fabric and then slashes them away with two strokes and throws the fabric on the desk.

“Move, God, I want her up on the desk.”

God stands again, and he pulls your shirt off your shoulders as he moves away.

Lloyd could unclasp your bra, but of course Lloyd uses the knife to slice through the band.

“Drop it,” he instructs.

With a deep, steadying breath, you do as he says.

“Turn and sit up on the desk for us.”

You’ve taken hundreds of orders from this office, completing tasks you enjoyed and hated, this can be just another of those.

“Open those thighs for us all to see, sweetie.”

You close your eyes. You know what they will see, and the shame burns in your stomach.

Lloyd taps the flat part of his knife just above your knee. “Now.”

You bite your lip and look at the ground as you spread your legs. Lloyd presses the edge of the knife to the flesh of your inner thigh, forcing you to spread even wider if you don’t want him to cut into you.

Lloyd brings his knife to your chin to tilt your face up to look at him as he traces your wet folds with two fingers. The smirk is gone, replaced by a wicked grin. “Nice and slick for us.”

“God’s handiwork,” the other man is quick to note.

“Sure. A nice little sacrificial offering. Now, Ransom, since you’ve never had a taste, seems a shame not to give you a sample,” Lloyd says.

Ransom shifts and begins to stand, but Lloyd turns abruptly and points at him with the knife. “Stay there, you dumb fuck.”

Ransom sits back again.

“And don’t you dare look away.” He looks to God. “Shoot him if he does.”

God pulls a gun from behind his back that he must have had tucked into his waistband. You watch as he moves to the other side of the room and stands behind Ransom. He plants his gun at the base of Ransom’s skull, then locks eyes with you again. It’s clear he doesn’t want take his eyes off you if he’s going to have to ensure Ransom doesn’t either. Something in your chest stirs under his rapt attention.

Lloyd demands your attention again as he grips your hips and pulls you to the edge of the mahogany desk. He slaps your pussy, drawing a sharp cry from you, then drops down to delve between your thighs. He gives your clit a vicious nip, and you bit back another yelp. His tongue plunders into your cunt, licking and sucking, and your hands are moving to grasp his skull to anchor yourself, but he’s already pulling away. As he stands, he yanks you off the desk, and strides across the room, dragging you with him.

He spits directly in Ransom’s face – a combination of Lloyd’s saliva and your slick that he’s not able to do anything but let drip down his face. Your mouth is agape, truly shocked. Ransom’s entire body radiates rage and embarrassment.

“That’s all you’ll be getting from her, Drysdale.”

Then Lloyd’s shoves you to your knees, putting you on display in profile to the other men. He undoes the zipper of his pants, releasing his cock, no underwear to fuss about.

“Open up,” he demands, and you comply, unwilling to provoke this demon who clearly doesn’t play by any rules.

He slips the angry red tip of his cock into your mouth. “Be good,” he warns. You give a small nod, closing your mouth around him. With one hand, he grips your head and begins to thrust in and out of your mouth. You and gag, and your eyes close as you try to focus very hard on breathing through your nose. He’s hitting the back of your throat with each brutal thrust, and the tears spill quickly down your face.

“Eyes on me,” he grunts, and you force them open and look up at him, knowing what he wants to see. He groans in approval. “You are a pretty little trinket, prettier when you cry.”

Then he abruptly pulls you off his dick and grips you by the chin and turns your head for Ransom and God. “Fucking look at her, swollen lips, gasping for breath, desperate.”

Just as quickly he slots his dick back in your mouth, this time gripping your head with both hands and he fucks your face with abandon. Fast. Hard. Your whimpers turn into sobs, and your hands come up to brace and grasp desperately at his thighs. “You can still take it,” Lloyd growls, undeterred, and you’re powerless to stop him. The tears are not just running but flooding down your cheeks. It’s too much now, and you can’t get enough air, and vision is going black. Finally he throws you off and away from him, and turns to aim his cock at Ransom, shooting his load over his face and shoulders, letting out a hiss that turns into a hum.

You’re hunched over and you wretch – blessedly only once – bracing your hands on the floor, and you gulp and heave, lungs fraught for the necessary oxygen.

Lloyd is talking again. The voice registers, but not the words.

And there are warm hands on you again. One rubbing small circles at the base of your spine, the other pushing your hair out of your face and coaxing you to look up at him.

With enough soothing, God has you breathing evenly again, and you’re still crying a little, but he helps you up onto the couch and sits next to you, very close, and he tucks a hand under your chin and lifts your face up, then he licks your left cheek, then the right, lapping up the tears. You hiccup, not sure how to react. Then he merely strokes your cheek, and the fingers trail down your neck, down your chest, down, down…

“Boring,” Lloyd announces.

You look up at him for a moment, but then God’s questing fingers reach the point he really wants to concentrate his might on, plunging into your wet cunt, and your eyes flutter closed.

“I’m eager to be done here,” Lloyd continues while God continues pumping his digits in and out of you. “We don’t need any more dumbasses showing up for this fool.”

“Agreed,” God says, casually as if he’s not beginning to pull you apart softly but surely. “You take him. I’ll keep her. There’s room for her in the trunk next to the cargo.”

“Fine, I wasn’t fussed about the goods anyway, I only took this job for the satisfaction of humiliating Drysdale, and that’s already exceeded my expectations. I’m sure Barnes and Rogers will give you enough for the recovered inventory even without him, and I’ll do you a solid and not mention the little side piece you’ll be keeping for yourself.”

God moves you off the couch, coaxing you to lean over the coffee table and kneels behind you. “Good.”

You moan as God slowly pushes his hard length inside your cunt.

There’s a thud next to you, and you turn to see a pile of Ransom hit the floor a few feet away.

“I assume you’ve got a way to move this man through down in that passage?” Lloyd asks, dragging the unconscious figure across the floor by his feet.

“Mhmm,” he responds, more intent on the movement of his hips against yours, slowly pistonning in and out of your tight heat.

“Good. This was fun enough, but let’s not do this again.”

God pulls your head up roughly to look at Lloyd just as he’s about to drop into the floor. “Say goodbye to Lloyd, Angel.”

You’re barely able to make the, “Bye,” tumble out of your lips, you’re so full of this man behind you, and his sudden roughness taking you by surprise.

Lloyd chuckles, then disappears.

God lets you drop back down, leaning on your elbows.

“I thought he’d never stop talking,” God murmurs.

It’s bitter, but a laugh actually falls from your lips, but you still can’t form words.

“There’s other things I’d rather do with you around than talk.”

He adjusts his angle from behind you. It allows him to plunge more of his cock into your slick channel, and you groan, but then after only a few thrusts, he pauses, balls deep inside you.

“You took what he gave you, but I think you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

You’re breathless. You can’t speak. You don’t want to speak?

He places his right hand, palm flat, at the base of your spine and presses it slowly up your back, his middle finger trailing up the ridge of your vertebrae, and you can feel the metal of his ring draw a line along your skin.

“You were very good.”

He rocks his hips against you, and you whimper.

“I said I would make you mine if you were good.”

Another rocking. He moves his hand from the nape of your neck around to grip it fully, and he pulls you back up against his chest, and you’re gasping for air for a moment, both hands coming up to clutch at his arm.

He lowers his voice and delivers his next words right into your ear. “You want to be mine, don’t you?”

Your pussy clenches around him, and he presses a kiss against your throat, and you feel the smile of his lips against your skin.

His other hand moves down across your hip, to your vee, and his deft fingers stroke your throbbing clit. He doesn’t move his cock, but he does move those fingers expertly, drawing tight little circles that wind you up to the top until you’re flung off the edge and into pure pleasure.

Coming down from your first orgasm, you sink against him. As your breathing returns to normal, the hand on your neck remains like an anchor, but his other hand moves up to tilt your chin to the side and up to meet his lips. The kiss claims you, and you part your lips for him, just as you’ve parted your legs for him – willingly.

“That was one, but I want a trinity to secure your devotion here tonight. I’m going to fuck you dumb, dress you, and then you’re going to walk out of here like a sweet little angel and get in my car. Then I’ll let you choose. You can sit up front and keep my cock warm or you can crawl in the back of the trunk. Your choice.”

How are we?

I'm ruined.

Restore my health with your lovely reblogs, commentary, comments...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Today, Israel is voting in its local elections (for mayors and city councils). ALMOST all of Israel. The original date was at the end of October 2023, for obvious reasons, the elections were postponed. There were also a lot of mayor nominees, who were summoned for reserves service due to the war, and one of the reasons why the elections were postponed more than once, was to give as many of them as possible a chance to finish their service, and participate in their own election campaign. But even so, there are still hundreds of thousands of people from evacuated communities (displaced people, internal refugees, however you wanna call them), and therefore not everyone will be voting today. For the evacuated cities and towns, the elections were postponed until November. Looking at things, it's not sure they'll be back in their homes by then either, so IDK what their elections will look like. And then of course there are the hostages. Save for two, 4 years old Ariel Bibas and his 1 years old baby brother Kfir, they all had the right to vote, and none will get to. We remember them and hurt over their absence and everything being continuously being stolen from them on this day, too. On a side note, the national supervisor of these local electional is Rayan Ghanem. And if you know Jewish last names, you know Ghanem is not one of them. I'm trying to remember a time in apartheid South Africa when a non-white was a national supervisor of elections.

Despite still pointing out that the International Court of Justice has no right to judge the case brought to it by South Africa (becaue of SA's false claims to bring this case to court), Israel has filed a report in accordance with one of the ICJ's provisional measures, showing that its actions are in compliance with all of them (like providing humanitarian aid to Gaza, and doing all it can to protect civilians).

Meanwhile, at Harvard, just 6 weeks after she was appointed to lead the task force meant to combat Jew hatred, the university's antisemitism tsar has quit her position, with reports saying that she's frustrated over her inability to implement practical measures.

Remember when I wrote about Idan Amedi, the Israeli singer and actor that most people outside our country know from his role on Fauda? He gave a really moving speech when he was released from the hospital. I've wanted to share it for a while, but couldn't find it translated well. I found this bit:

But it really doesn't cover how moving the whole speech is (it's 9 minutes long). Among other things, he also thanked medical teams, assured Israelis we have the best ones, and apologized to his soldiers who died in the same incident in which he was injured. He also mentioned that he was unrecognizable when he was rushed into the hospital, and that doctors only identified him by the note that was attacked to his hand. It turns out, he really wanted people to see what he was talking about, and to understand that by the time he gave this public speech, he was already looking much better than on the day of he was wounded. So here is the image he shared himself on his IG (just scroll quickly past it, if you feel like it is too much for you, which is an understandbale reaction):

This is 68 years old David Edri.

On October 7, he was held hostage with his wife by Hamas for hours. At a certain point, he even covered his wife Rachel with his own body, in order to protect her from the terrorists' shots. They both survived. Yesterday, we got the news that he has passed away. His family said the trauma and stress from the massacre, and the news of its scale, had aggravated his medical problems for the last couple of months, until he could no longer go on.

This is 23 years old Raz Mizrachi.

In May 2021, she was injured in a vehicular terrorist attack in Jerusalem, but survived. On Oct 7, she was attending the Nova music festival. Her last phone call was to the police, to help instruct them on where she and dozens of others were hiding from Hamas terrorists, inside a public bomb shelter. Raz was murdered shortly after that. When her mom got a copy of the call's recording, she said it was a great source of comfort to the family, to know that Raz was a fighter till the last moment.

May their memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[gaiathemexicanbeauty]

it only takes a taste | mike schmidt x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none! this is just pure fluff and maybe kind of slowburnish lol

this was loosely based off of it only takes a taste from the waitress musical! :3

idk i just really like the idea of late nights with mike even if he's too tired to even think straight lmao

also don't ask what time period this takes place in, i was born in 2004 and know like 2 things about the 70s-90s or whenever the movie takes place bc its never explicitly mentioned

i also do not regularly bake or cook so do not be afraid to go to my comment section and tell me if something sounds off

i love this man ok, i have said it 1000 times already but i've been in love with him ever since i first saw him when i was like 12 or 13 and was even more so obsessed with rebornica's mike design for YEARS. 12 year old me would have an aneurism if she knew about the fnaf movie

you let out a long yawn, one hand reaching up cover your mouth so as not to potentially ruin the mood of any customers around; granted, there was only two and they were graveyard shifters from somewhere outside of town but customers are customers. you'd been working at sparky's for a couple of months now, figuring it was an easy way to make some cash and keep food on the table. of course, you hadn't accounted for the very long hours that passed where you half debated trying to sneak away since no was around from 2-4:00 am: your boss would kill you, though, and you wanted to stay employed.

soft oldies music plays in the background as you glance over at the clock ticking away on the wall. just as you move to grab a rag to clean the counters for the 5th time during your shift, you hear the bell above the entrance jingle and don't even have to look up to know who it is.

mike wasn't a regular at first, just someone who popped in at random and very quietly asked for a coffee. after a while of starting a new job, he started coming in at almost 11:00 pm everyday and always asking for the same thing: just a plain, black coffee. "seriously?" you had said with a smirk the first time he said his order to you, your eyes widening at the attitude you had just given a customer. fortunately, mike was quick to respond with a tired but good natured laugh, his hands folded in front of him. "i'm all ears if you have other recommendations." he mumbled with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, giving you instant relief.

now, it was just clockwork. "hey." mike sighs with a soft sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he takes a seat at a chair by the counter you were standing behind. "coffee machine is kind of acting up tonight, you're gonna have to give it a minute. want anything else while you wait?" you say as you approach the counter, giving him a quick smile. mike is about to decline your offer, his lips parting to say something before his eyes land on something on the farther end of the counter. "what about that? still good?" "you're just in time. i was going to take the rest of it home." you say with a smile, walking over to the cake stand holding an apple pie with only 3 slices left of it. you take the lid off to plate it, handing it over to mike with a hum before bringing him utensils. you don't even get the chance to bring up to him that the slices have been sitting there for a couple of hours, blinking in shock at the way he's quick to start eating.

you turn your back to start taking down the chalkboard advertising the special from the day before, giving mike his one moment of quiet you were sure he needed. you start to think about what your day will consist of once you're done with your shift, dreading having to clean your room before you can actually sleep. "did you make this?" "yeah. why, is it bad?" you say with a chuckle, turning to look at mike again; your eyes widen a bit at the way mike is looking at you, his own eyes looking at you like he can't believe what he just put it in his mouth. "no, no, it's..it's really good, like. really good." your cheeks redden a bit at the sudden compliment, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear as you occasionally glance at him enjoying the pie you'd made; you wouldn't say you were amazing at cooking but you definitely knew enough to make a meal that would do more than just feed you.

it also didn't help that you'd been harboring a crush on mike for the past month. that you were aware of, he didn't have a partner of any kind but that might have been more to do with the fact he didn't have time for one than anything else. you at first brushed it off as just not having contact with anyone your age that late at night, just enjoying his company when nights got lonely. but you couldn't deny the way you would style your hair a bit differently or try a new perfume in the hopes of getting a compliment from mike; to your absolute pleasure, he almost always pointed it out. now to hear this sudden praise for your cooking took you out of your element.

"thanks, really, but i make it all the time. i can make thousands like it and they'll all be the same." you say with a light chuckle, crossing your arms against your chest as you look over at the cake stand sheepishly. "then maybe you should consider getting a day job making these instead." mike says between bites, giving you a playful smile. you can't help but scoff despite the smile on your face, looking over at mike again. "well, if it's that easy, maybe YOU should quit your job and come and join me. keep me company." the two of you have a quiet laugh, your cheeks reddening at the indirect compliment you had paid him. once his plate is empty, you take it away from him just to have an excuse to do something with your hands (also to get away from the almost fond look that mike was giving you right now, definitely not on par for him). there's a tense silence between the two of you before mike speaks up, clearing his throat when he speaks. "uh, i tried making that at home. the pie, i mean. i don't remember what kind it was right now, but it definitely didn't end as well as that." he says with a nervous laugh, hands folded in front of him again as you hear the coffee machine start to pour out his drink.

"well, what exactly did you do wrong?" with surprisingly no hesitance, mike goes on to tell the story of how sure he was about this recipe he'd seen in a catalogue, going above and beyond to make sure this "stupid thing" (his words) came out right. little did he know leaving his creation unattended for even a second would result in smoke pouring out of the oven and having to throw out a charred-black pastry; "and then abby went and acted like we could just go and do it all over again and.." mike starts, hands waving around uncharacteristically as he finished off his story. he caught the way you were trying to hold back a laugh, fingers pressed to your lips that were etched into a small smile. "it's ok, you can laugh all you want. i never tried doing it again." you can't help the laugh that leaves you once he gives you his full permission, still trying to keep your voice down. "i-i'm sorry, really.." you giggle once you've calmed down, rubbing your hands over your face before you start to walk around the counter to where mike is sitting. "but that's not how making a pie works. you can't just leave it like that or give up on the process that easily."

mike makes a face that says 'i'm listening', shrugging his shoulders when you sit on the stool next to him. "making a pie is like.." you start with a sigh, hands propping up your chin in thought as you look up at the clock. "you just know when some things feel right. if something is too much or too little, whether you need to start again or not. lord knows i've had to redo entire pies because the crust wasn't flaky enough or the filling didn't taste like apples enough." you say, chuckling a bit as you remember all the times you'd slaved away for almost entire days trying to nail down the perfect home recipe. you take a minute to think again, sitting back a bit as you smooth down your apron tied around your waist. "and it also doesn't help if you make something just to make something. when you bake or just cook a plain old steak, you have to make it like you're crafting a story or making a song. all of my best meals were made with someone or something in mind."

your cheeks go red again when you realize the very unprompted ramble you went on, a nervous laugh leaving you as you look down at your lap. "sorry, you totally don't have to-" "no, no, i-" the two of you jump a bit at the way you both try to speak first, sheepish smiles tugging at your lips before you go quiet again. the bell above the door jingles and you don't have to look up to know the two of you are alone now. "i like hearing about that sort of stuff. i really only hear about it when i'm here with you and it's..nice. different." your heart soars and you can only hope that mike can't somehow feel or hear it, trying to give him a warm smile without saying something you'll regret. you get up from your seat with a when he checks his watch, knowing that's code for 'i need to go' even before he stands. you're almost sure he'll leave without saying anything which you are simultaneously grateful for and hoped he wouldn't do, already busying yourself with some other menial task. "hey."

you look up almost as soon as he speaks, seeing the smile tugging at his lips and not able to contain your own. "save those leftovers for me. i hope it still tastes like you were trying to make it for me when i get back." he says, a smug look in his eyes as your lips part a bit in shock. you try to call out to him before he jogs out to his car, taking off accordingly.

-> ta da its done! :D &lt;-

this was honestly less romantic than i wanted it to be but i promise that my brain is racked with thoughts of him literally EVERY DAY so mayhaps i can write something else that's more up to par one of these days

but thank yall for reading! :D i haven't been able to pump out a oneshot like this for a while and it felt good to write something longer than a couple of paragraphs, i have missed this account sm 🐺💗 love yall and i hope that you all are having a fantastic day!

[vikkirosko]

Hellooo! I've always loved your work so when I saw the new episode of helluva boss, I knew who to send this request to. Can I get a relationship headcanon of Mammon? I really love that christmas tree jester, his accent is literally perfection and he's so adorable. It came out like a day ago but I need more of him alreadyyy. Thank you so much and have a great dayyy/nighttt

🤡 Mammon x Reader headcanons Relationships 💰

You and Mammon have been in a relationship for a long time. You were one of the few inhabitants of Hell who knew all his tricks and manipulations, easily bypassing them and making him laugh. It would seem that everyone in Hell knew about your relationship who had heard at least a little about Mammon. He did not hide your relationship and always took you with him to various social events in which he participated, and always tried to be close to you, not wanting others to take your attention away from him

You were the one with whom he shared his business ideas and the one who was his voice of reason. He had a huge number of business ideas, but you tried to weed out those that were too dangerous or unpleasant. You knew how greedy he was and how he was looking for benefits from everything, but you didn't let him get completely out of control. Every time he caught you at work, when you put his work documents in order, he laughed and hugged you tightly, touched by how much you tried to do everything right, even though you were in Hell

He often distracted you from all things, but you didn't really regret it, because you didn't often have the opportunity to spend time just the two of you. He often tried to make you laugh, saying that you had a great smile, for which he tried so hard to amuse you

Mammon wasn't stingy when it came to you. He was ready to buy you anything, knowing full well that he had enough money to pamper you. You always told him that you didn't need so many things, but he still bought them for you, wanting you to have the best. To the rest of you, you were the most gorgeous couple in all of Hell, but you never gave it much thought

No one could guess that Mammon was sincere about you. However, you didn't care about the opinions of others about your relationship. You knew that he was sincere, because your relationship has already passed the test of time. Even though there were those in Hell who thought he was strange, but you continued to love him and it was mutual

[judysxnd]

Heyyy

I have an idea for pedro and reader I just saw TSITP.

they are fighting and mad at each other she gets drunk and go to the beach. Pedro comes and drags her in the house taking by his hand

I haven't seen the show so I hope it's approximately what you expected!

———————————————————————————

You were sitting on the table, waiting for Pedro to come home. You've been waiting for him for a couple of hours now. The night had settled, and you were supposed to be walking down the street to a restaurant for your date night. But someone forgot about you, again. You were all dressed up, swinging your legs, your arms crossed. You sitting in the dark, as the full moon was the only thing lighting the room.

It was past 9pm, and no one was home yet. You sent at least a hundred of texts, tried to call him, but nothing. If he was still working on set you knew it would be pretty useless to try and reach him because his phone was either on silent, airplane mode or turned off. It always pissed you off. What if something happened to you? No one could reach him. As each minute passed by you were getting angrier and angrier and the bottle of wine was getting emptier and emptier. You were feeling so hot and a bit dizzy. But he finally came back. At almost 10pm. He came back.

"Oh there you are" you sarcastically said as he turned the light on, turning his head towards you

"Baby I'm sorry"

"Nope I don't want to hear about it" You got up from the table, standing still for a minute as the alcohol made you woozy for a sec. "I've been waiting for you for hours!" you almost yelled

"Sorry I was working" he said taking his coat off

"Did you even remember that we were supposed to go out tonight?" His eyes widened "I swear to god" you said walking to your bedroom.

"I didn't do it on purpose cariño!"

"Of course you didn't, you never do anything on purpose!" you yelled, grabbing some clothes more comfortable to change into

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, leaning against the door behind you “are you drunk?”

"You always forget about me, you spend your time working" you stopped “and I just drank the bottle of wine, you know.. the one we were supposed to drink together after our date!” You stared at him

"Well I'm sorry I have a job that requires working a lot" you fully turned around, facing him, shocked by what he just said

"Because I don't? Because spending hours, entire nights writing, editing, filming, this is not enough for you?" you said as you walked closer to him “this is not enough for mister Peedroo?” You added, your drunken mind starting to make you even more mad

"You know this is not what I meant"

"I don't care Pedro. You could at least text me or call me, which is what I've been trying to do all night, but I bet your phone was off?"

"Yeah I'm sorry, it was on silent"

"Yeah as usual!" you said, changing in front of him

"What are you doing?" He asked, looking at you moving quickly to get changed

"Well I'm changing into something more comfortable since we won't go out tonight"

"We can still go out"

"At 10pm? I'm freaking hungry. I’m drunk as hell because I haven’t eaten a thing, I don't want to wait another hour for my food! Oh my god you're impossible!" You said going back to the living room, Pedro close behind you

"It's better than nothing!" You gasped, looking at him

"I can't do this" you said, grabbing your jacket and leaving your shared apartment. You didn't leave time for Pedro to say something. You need to get out of here, you were too upset (and definitely too drunk) to have a rational conversation with him. Things were already getting bad, you were already starting to say things that shouldn't be said, so it was better to leave in order to calm down.

But as you left, you were still extremely hungry. Pedro probably ate something on set, but you didn't. Time passed and you didn't move, hoping he would come home and you could eat together. So now you were thinking what to eat. You needed something fast, so you walked to the nearest McDonalds, ordered your food, and walked to the only place where you knew you would calm down, the beach.

Living in L.A. had some good sides, meaning the beach wasn't far from your apartment. In ten minutes you were there. You always loved the beach, it was one of the reason you stayed here rather than somewhere else. It always calmed you down, the sound of the waves, the feeling of the sand under your feet, the smell, everything was different and so calm, the opposite of the city you were living in.

You took your jacket and put it on the sand, not far from the water, and sat on it. You took the smell in, setting the blanket on the sand, sitting next to your food. You didn't even realise when you calmed down, but the soothing sound of the waves and finally eating made everything better.

Now that your stomach was full, you could finally think normally. The alcohol seemed to have reduced a bit. You weren’t feeling dizzy nor anything else anymore. But you couldn't help but smile. Even at night the view was beautiful. After finishing your burger and fries, you also ordered a sundae. You were eating it quietly, when you heard footsteps getting closer to you. You decided to ignore it, it was probably someone just passing by.

"There you are" Pedro's voice startled you, making you jump a little "I've been looking for you everywhere"

"You remembered I existed I'm surprised" you sarcastically said, not looking at him, still eating your ice cream. The alcohol wasn’t totally gone. He sighed.

"I'm sorry" he said

"It doesn't change the fact that it happened and that it keeps happening" you said dryly, taking another spoon of ice cream.

"I'm working a lot so that we finish early so that I can spend more time with you"

"It's doing the opposite right now though"

"Get up" he suddenly said

"What? I'm not moving" you finally looked at him

"I said get up" he said in a lower voice.

"No" he saw you weren't moving, so he started to grab the jacket you were sitting on, forcing you to get up. "What are you doing!" you yelled, stepping back, looking at Pedro folding the jacket and grabbing the empty bag where your food was.

"Let's go" he motioned for you to get moving. You frowned

"I'm not finished"

"You can finish the ice cream on the way home"

"No!" you blurted. Pedro stepped closer to you, grabbing your hand and dragged you away from the beach. "What are you doing? Let go of me!" He finally let go of you once you were on the parking lot. "What was that about?"

"I can accept the attitude, but I won't let you run away from me" you frowned once more, rolling your eyes. "I did something bad, we talk about it, but you don't get to leave me especially in the middle of the night, alone!" He kept talking. He was right though. "So you finish your ice cream, you get in the car and we go home and talk. Deal?" You sighed

"Deal" you finally said. He held his hand out, waiting for you to shake it. "Seriously?" He moved closer to you. You sighed, shaking his hand. He took the opportunity to pull you into a hug. He held you tight, kissing your head. You gave in, holding him too. "I need to finish my ice cream" you said, breaking the silence. He stepped back, smiling when he saw you were also smiling a bit.

Once you were done, you stepped in his car, where he was waiting for you. The ride was silent, but not a bad one. You were not anticipating the conversation, you both calmed down, so you knew it would be okay.

[burning-omen]

Kinktober day 11: Soulmates + Klaus Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves x male!reader

Kinktober 2023 List | day 1 | day 12

Summary: Becoming obsessed with your soulmate was a very common event.

Warning: smut, kinda vanilla and cute, Klaus passes out a little. Not proof read.

Words: 1.7 k

You and Klaus met early on, earlier than most soulmates did. At the ripe age of twelve, about two years after the timer appeared on your wrist. It was odd, your parents figured that you'd meet in a couple of years and live long, happy lives together. They were only half right.

You met at a party neither of you had any business being at. You were far too young and with the amount of people in the house a crowd crush was inevitable. Still, you convinced yourself you were having fun- this is what you snuck out for after all and continued to ride the constantly moving wave of the crowd.

Klaus was only a year older than you, not at all bigger than you had been at the time. The two of you had been pushed together by the crowd, your back slamming against his as you'd both been pushed simultaneously. Then, the timer on both your wrist and his hit zero, whipping around, only to see him standing there, just as young and nervous as you were, stunned in silence.

He said something- you couldn't hear it over the impossibly loud music- then he was swept away by the crowd.

You didn't see him at the party again, or anywhere else after- your parents were beyond disappointed.

For years your family looked for him, but you had practically no information to go on, no name and a barely-there description. You've met dozens of black-haired, green-eyed boys, but not a single one was yours. You gave up a long time before they did. Stopped attending the meet ups they would set up, stopped getting on flights all over the country, stopped making a fuss about finding a boy who was simply just gone.

Nearly two decades after you first met the boy, you met him again, now a man in his thirties, on his way to a hookup of all things.

Your apartment's elevator was pretty big, you were thankful for that when you first moved in, but now, as more and more people loaded in, you were starting to hate the space, or lack thereof. The elevator was so full that if you even thought about moving you were touching another person. Luckily you lived on the top floor and wouldn't have to squeeze past several people in the elevator in order to get off, most got out on the second or third floor, a couple more left on the fourth, and only one left on the fifth, now, it was only you and one other person in the elevator. You paid him no mind, your neighbors had people coming and going at all times, he wasn’t the first and most likely wouldn't be the last.

“Hey, quick question?” he said suddenly. “Is the guy in 522 a serial killer?”

You blinked, looking over at the man, “I don't think so, everybody that goes into his apartment comes out as far as I can tell.”

Ha laughed, still looking down at the ground, “Thank fuck, you'd be surprised how many- oh..”

You looked at him again, to see what made him stop, only to find him staring at you, big sunglasses covered his eyes but there was no doubt that he was looking at you.

“Are you..okay?”

He said nothing, his mouth hanging open as he stared.

The elevator beeped and slid open what felt like forever, you left the man to his own devices inside the elevator. About halfway to your apartment you heard the elevator ding again, then rapid footsteps heading straight toward you. You couldn't even start running before you were tackled to the ground by the man, a massive smile on his face.

“Do you know how hard you were to find? I've been looking for your ass for years!”

You stared up at the man, finally, with his glasses pushed up into his hair, bright green eyes staring deeply into yours, did you finally piece together who he was.

“…holy shit.”

“‘Holy shit’ is right! Where the fuck have you been?”

“Me?” you sat up, the man fully seated in your lap, and despite not knowing him, it didn't feel odd at all, must be a soulmate thing. “I looked for you for years! You're the one who just dropped off the face of the Earth!”

“Fuck off, I was in Canada!”

“So was I! Canada is fucking huge!”

He glared at you for a long moment before another smile broke out on his face.

“You’re going to be so much fun.” He smiled before leaning down and kissing you.

You rested your hands on his lower back, his body was so warm, so comforting as he pressed his lips against yours, again and again and again.

And that was fine, even when tears started streaming down his face everything was fine, soulmates kissed and cried and laughed in public all the time, it wasn't a new sight to anybody. The sixth flood was mostly deserted anyways.

It wasn't until he ground his crotch against your did the problems started. He was beautiful, undeniably so. And in this moment- and every moment forward- he was everything to you. And you wanted to give him everything. So when he pressed himself against you, looking at you through his thick eyelashes, bright eyes looking into yours, you had no choice but to oblige. Holding his hips you pulled him down against you, rolling your hips against his.

His body stiffened for a moment before he relaxed. Little pants escaping the man, letting him do as little work as possible, moving his hip with your hands.

“As much as I love the idea of letting you fuck me outside, we should really head inside.”

He didn’t have to say anything else before you picked him up, scaring the crap out of him, and walked over to your apartment with him in your arms. He laughed as you unlocked the door, gasped when his back his the nearest flat surface.

You were impatient, you know, but he was your soulmate. And sure, you had the rest of forever to savor that, you wanted him to know here and now that he is yours and that’s never going to change.

Klaus was surprisingly skilled at getting out of his clothes, a skill he’d picked up over the years.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren't you?” you muttered, watching him somehow take his underwear off while you were still holding him against the wall.

He laughed, “something like that.”

You kissed- and bit- every bit of his exposed skin. He moaned and giggled, keeping his arms around you, surprisingly strong. You could tell everytime you found a little sensitive spot as his nails would dig into your back, warm yet painful scratches already covering your back.

You wasted as little time as you could, prodding at his mouth with two fingers, watching him stick his tongue out and pick them so gently, running his tongue around every individual finger before taking them into his mouth. It was a hypnotizing sight. You could still feel his tongue lapping against your fingers until they were nice and wet. You pulled away, he held a satisfied grin on his face.

“Stay still..” you said, looking him in the eye before slowly pushing your fingers into his tight hole. He whined and moaned and rocked his hips hard against your fingers, mouth falling open and those pretty eyes flittering shut. His body relaxed after a moment, you pressed in farther, then pulled out, then pressed back in. Over and over again, watching him loose his already slipping composure. You didn't stop, even when you felt he was loose enough you didn't stop, even he whined and whimpered about being so close to cumming. Pressing your fingers hard against him, you watched as his mouth flew open as cum spurted out of his untouched cock and all over your chest.

Once he called down a bit, he offered to stop and help you clean yourself up, but you weren’t ready to stop, and honestly neither was he. Pinning him back up against the wall, using your body to keep his legs spread wide.

Desperately, you pressed into his hole, wet and slick enough for you to slid right in. He only whimpered, shouting when you pulled out and slammed right back in.

He became illegible in a matter of second, a mouth so smart turned to a mess in moments. Resting against your shoulder, letting you hear every one of his noises up close. He wasn’t quiet either, you figured you’d be getting some angry letters from your neighbors soon, more than likely the guy in 522. You weren’t jealous, obviously not, because you were fucking him and 522 wasn’t but you could admit that you thrusted a little harder than before when you thought about it. Be it possessive instinct from your soul bond or something else it didn’t matter.

He apparently had the longevity of a guvking God, round after round after round, he never complained, only begged for more and more. Even after he'd covered your chest in cum over five times and after you'd filled his ass at least three times, he didn't stop, and neither did you, you couldn't, it was like your body and all of its energy were replenished each and every time he moaned about how close he was, or clawed at your back and hair.

Things didn't slow down until, suddenly, he's body seemed to give out. Completely lax against your, you stated down at him, face pressed into your chest, humming delightedly.

“Are you...?”

He nodded, a goofy smile on his face.

“Yeah, I think I pushed myself a little too far.”

You've never pulled out fast.

“Ah shit, are you sure you're okay, do you need anything?”

Stringing his arms around your neck and his legs around your waist.

“Hhm, a good nap. Food?”

“Of course,” you said, walking to your bedroom with him still in your arms. Leaving behind a pile of clothes as you entered your room, laying him on the bed as gently as you could.

He was asleep before you ever got to the bed. You cleaned him up with a warm towel and found him some clothes that fit him. Putting them on as gently as you could, it wasn't too hard, he apparently slept like a brick.

After cleaning up yourself, you got into bed next to him, so tired but unable to look away. Your soulmate, right here after all these years. As your eyelids became heavy, you made mental note to ask him his name tomorrow.

[pablitogavii]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do one where the reader is really shy and anxious but she’s a literal angel, and Gavi just thinks she’s the most adorable human being ever and is very protective over her? Maybe Gavi introduces her too his teammates?🫶🏼 You don’t have too of course, but if you do thank you!❤️

Figther

Pablo's POV

The moment we arrived to the bar that guy was eyeing her down like a piece of meet which clearly made her uncomfortable and made me furious. Hijo de puta!

My girl isn't one for confrontations since she is very shy and often stays quiet when she feels uncomfortable. It's that fact that makes me want to protect her from everything, and that awakens my short fuse.

"Nice dress, nena!" he said as we walked to the bar to order our drinks and I noticed her shift uncomfortably and pull her summer dress down while reaching out for me like she was asking for protection..my precious girl!

I wrapped my arm around her waist protectively and she leaned into my touch ignoring the asshole and focusing on the menu in front of us instead. She was very short and tiny so with my arms around her people could barely see her.

I hoped that when he saw that she is not alone, he would just let go off inappropriate comments so I didn't react the first time.

"What would you like anjo?" I said while she was looking through the menu with her head laid on my shoulder so preciously.

"Um..can I have a lemonade please?" she asked and my heart melted at how freaking cute and precious she was all the time!

"You can have whatever you like mia preciosa" I said and she blushed looking up at me and I leaned down pecking her lips.

Everything was perfect until we heard his snarky "fucking hot!" in the background and she became anxious and uncomfortable right away. That's it!

I was ready to react but she stopped me, placing her small hands on my chest and looking up at me with big eyes. Fuck I couldn't resist those adorable eyes!

"Please don't Pablo..for me" she said an i nodded kissing the top of her head before ordering us the drinks we choose.

Luckily, he was quiet for awhile until she went to use the bathroom and I joined my friends at the bar stools where he also sat.

"You guys are seriously the cutest couple" Cristo said and I smiled showing him the picture we took last night with the sunset in the background. She looked so cute with my strong arms wrapped around her and her curls falling over them. She was wearing a cute pink bikini and a summer hat...so adorable.

"Joder! The things I'd do to her in that bikini!" he said and since she was nowhere to stop me, I've had enough putting the phone down and charging towards him.

Your POV

"What the fuck did you say!? Hijo de puta!" Pablo was in the man's face when I came back from the bathroom feeling anxious as to what had happened while I was gone.

"I said I would do so many things to her!" man replied and my stomach twisted in disgust and then Pablo's fist met his jaw as he fell down from the chair and Pablo's friends were pulling him backwards.

"Hermano, you gotta relax!" it was Cristo who tried calming him down together with Ale but Pablo was way too charged up to stop himself anymore.

I knew he had short fuse..and whenever someone dared disrespect or make me uncomfortable, there was no stopping Pablo's reactions...well, unless I ask him to stop.

The fight unravelled in front of my eyes and I screamed while people tried separating them as my anxiety reached it's peak..I hated violence and it always triggered me.

"Vamos, amiga! Let me take you home!" Cristo pushed through the crows helping me into the car even though I didn't want to leave without Pablo. He reassured me that Ale and Mario will stay behind and get him home in one piece.

Another hour passed before Pablo finally made it home knocking on our bedroom door before walking inside with a bloody lip and a few bruises on his chest. That sight was enough to make tears fall down my cheeks.

"Shh shh preciosa..I'm alright..come here" he sat down pulling me into his arms and holding me tightly against his warm chest. We stayed like that in silence for a few minutes before I finally spoke again.

"I don't like you getting into fights because of me.." I said and feeling his heart racing against my chest and I finally look up to meet his eyes.

"I was just sitting with my friends..and that asshole started to talk about things he would do to you" Pablo explained and I gulped knowing that he had a reason to react but also hating the fact that it turned into a fight that could throw shade on his career.

"So?" I said and he raised his eyebrows pulling me closer and making me straddle his lap while his hand moved my hair to the side and he left hot kisses on my neck and shoulder.

"So..I told him I've already done all those things" he smirked knowing how shy I become when he dirty talks to me. He kissed my lips wincing a little feeling a sting from his cut.

"Your lip is bleeding..and you have bruises" I said touching his chest while he was breathing heavily. I thought it was because of pain but later I started to realize it was more from excitement.

Pablo's POV

Every guy in this world dreams about his girl tending to his wounds especially if he got into a fight for her..I was certainly living my dream now as she was inspecting my bruises carefully.

"Do they hurt cariño??" she asked adorably and I nodded my head seeing her blush bright red while leaning down and leaving sweet kisses on my heated skin. Fuck! I loved her innocence so much but even more when she was naughty only with me.

"Thank you for protecting me cariño..te..amo" she said in between kisses moving all the way to my face and kissing my cut gently while looking at me with those innocent eyes.

"Sempre mi amor.." I said moaning a little when she started to suck on my neck..looks like my angel was enjoying being naughty right now.

"You want to be bad anjo?" I smirked and she looked at me with completely red face and big eyes while still kissing my neck.

"Mhmm" she said and I smirked twisting us around so that I was on top of her trapping her small body underneath mine and kissing her lips passionately.

There is nothing better than having an angel in the streets..and bad girl in the sheets...;))

Hope you like it :))