#If I wanted people yelling over something petty like not finding a lid fast enough I could've stayed with my parents

[mcalhenwrites]

Stargazers' Hill writing while at one of my jobs :)

Clocked in, doing two jobs at once just days before surgery.

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing I

A/N: This is you and your ex, (Detective) Harry, winding up in each other’s lives again after a traumatic event in your life. I’ve had this idea in my notes app for like a year, and I just decided to go for it this week! It’s a little all over the place as I set it up but I think the next part will go a lot better if you can stick with it (and I appreciate you if you can <3).

Warnings: Violence (guns), PTSD?

Part 1 / (.5) / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

I had booked Thursday and Friday off in advance. I made sure my e-mails were forwarded, my clients were told I wouldn't be in, and any internal matters were allocated to my assistant. It was going to be a relaxing long weekend where I could have a homemade meal for once and watch Netflix all day. I was my branch’s youngest director and even though it was a fulfilling job, I hadn't had a day off since I got the position four months ago.

This was probably why, at 9am, I get a call from my assistant. One of our bigger clients was refusing to discuss his loan terms with anyone and wanted to speak to me directly.

"Tell him I'm not in Adam, you shouldn't even be calling me-I have the bloody day off."

"Yess but he said he's coming in at 10 and if you're not here he's switching banks for his personal and business accounts." Adam stuttered. “If you lose this client H-”

"Jesus," I look at my outfit and the time-I barely had any time to make it to the bank; it took me 40 minutes just to get to work. "I'll be there-distract him if I'm late. Oh! Ask about his daughter's new private school!"

I rush to my room and apply minimal makeup, pull back my y/h/c hair and throw on my black cigarette pants and a blazer. I'm halfway down the lift when I realise I was still in my t-shirt. "Shite," I mutter. I button the blazer and put my scarf around my neck so it's covered. That was decent enough for my day off.

I arrive breathless and sweaty 5 minutes early to the bank despite the cool weather. Might have seemed like a win if that wasn’t when everything went downhill. Just as I walk up to the side door, waving at Adam who was walking out to greet me, a crash from the entrance startles me.

"Hands up!” A loud voice booms from behind me. “Don't touch a fucking thing!" I turn, seeing Adam’s shocked expression, just in time to be shoved to the floor by four people dressed all in black, and wearing celebrity masks. In all my time working here, I’d never been part of a bank heist and some part of me is frozen, mind blank. I wasn’t even supposed to be here!

"I said to put your hands up!" The one with a Brad Pitt face points the gun around the room as people scramble for cover. I inch backwards to the counter as I watch them manhandle the customers and pull our bankers to the floor. I release a breath, trying to snap out of the shock I seemed to be in. The base of a column digs into my back and I focus on that to ground myself, scanning each robber, and where my employees were. Adam has his hands on his head, the closest one to me. I try to catch his eye to reassure him but he’s squeezing them tight. I didn’t blame him, Brad Pitt stands over him menacingly. I look to the customers, they weren’t trying to be smart--that was good. I’d watched enough TV to know that was never a smart move.

Just as I think that, from the corner of my eye, I catch Cole, one of our guards reach for his gun. A loud shot echoes through the small space and I swivel my head trying to see what's happened while making sure everyone was okay. The thief wearing a Kanye West mask, manning the front entrance of the bank, had shot Cole in the arm and he was bleeding all over the floor. My first instinct is to help him but I'm yanked back down before I make it a step.

"We’re not missing the next person who moves a muscle. I want you all to drop your phones in the middle! No. Fucking. Funny business." The thief who shot Cole points his gun to all of us and it takes all of me to not hyperventilate. I hear a few people crying but I don't dare look. Instead, I watch on as David Beckham drags Cole to the side and ties his hands behind him. I can see by the wincing that they didn’t care whether they twisted his arms too hard. This wasn’t a petty robbery, they were hardcore.

"Who has the passcode to the vault?" Brad Pitt asks as one of his friends goes around zip tying everybody's hands behind them. When nobody answers he shoves the gun in Adam’s face and I let out a sob. What did we do to deserve this?

"Me," I choke out. “Don’t hurt him, I have the passcode. I know it.”

"You?" The man asks. "You better not be lying bitch or you'll be joining your friend there."

I nod as he pulls me up by the arm and uses my scarf to tie my hands. I try to stay calm, the only way I could get through this before the police arrived was to keep my calm. Everything in me is screaming to do something--fight, scream, swear, cry, but I keep my mouth shut and follow Brad Pitt and the joker to the back. I'm led at gunpoint to the vault and they untie me so I can put in the code and my thumbprint. The one in a Joker mask presses her gun into my back and I know the least of my worries was a bruise but that was the only thing I could focus on.

She shoves me forward when I pause, hovering my finger over the finger pad, in the distance I hear sirens. Please let us all be okay, I pray.

"Don’t be a fucking hero, let’s go!" The female behind me yells in my ear and I rush to press my thumb.

As soon as I finish the procedure, I feel an explosion like fireworks against the side of my head and everything goes dark.

H POV:

I walked into the station around 10, just having come back from a nearby escalated domestic call. It wasn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever been involved in at 10am on a Thursday morning.

"Harry, there seems to be some sort of commotion near Holborn, the director wants you in his office." Serena, the receptionist tells me gravely. I don’t even consider the street, assuming it would be another criminal to go after. But when I go into the office, we get the rundown: there was a robbery happening at the HSBC. That’s when I understand the gravity of the situation.

"We’ve sent a few men right now, they seemed to be armed so proceed with caution." He warns. I had been on the force for over four years; I moved rank fast and knew how to handle myself so the warning was mostly for the junior constables. But my heart thuds violently in my chest when I think about the possibility...no. I had to focus. But I can’t help but try her cell on our way to the scene. When it continues to ring, my thoughts go to the worse place possible. I know I hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a year, like she wanted, but if anything happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

When we arrive at the scene, the thieves are still inside. I make sure nobody makes any moves, following protocol, and trying to gauge the exact situation inside. But before I could give orders, a man holding up his zip-tied hands shuffles out of the building. I notice the terror on his face and the fact that he's not armed.

"Down!" I say. The restless energy building up inside of me makes every move feel frantic.

"They left out the back! They left!" The man's shaky voice reaches our ears. I gesture a few of the officers to head around back and radio in the update.

"Get his statement, be sensitive,” I snap at the closest officer before I take a few of my officers indoors. The scene inside only reminds me why I do what I do, there's glass on the floor, phones in a pile and bullets littering the floor. Everyone looks shocked, people are crying, and a man in the corner is bleeding profusely.I scan all their faces but I don’t see her. I pray that she might have taken the day off today or something, even though I knew she rarely every did. Where was she?

"Medical," I order. I face the crowd, "You're all alright, If everyone can slowly get up and follow Officer McGregor out, we'll see that your belongings are returned to you and collect statements later. You’re all alright now."

"Sir," a bloke off to the side steps forward from the group getting up. "Our manager was taken to the back...we're not sure how she is, she hasn't come out...”

I reassure the crowd she should be fine. I didn't want them to see me panic, not to mention if we had any casualty the press outside were going to bombard this crowd with insensitive questions and I really wanted to keep this on the low. I was considered young for a DCI and any screw up meant I took it twice as hard. And I didn’t know if I could behave normally if I didn’t find her in any way except breathing. I put on my brave face.

I get an officer to stand by and venture cautiously into the back, spotting an open vault. I hurry into the area when I spot her, laying motionless on the floor.

“Y/N,” I rush forward, skidding on my knees to check on her. “Pleasepleaseplease.” I put my fingers to her pulse and nearly shout in relief. She was alive! I send a thanks out into the universe, to whoever was watching over her. “Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?”

Her eyes flutter under her lids. I turn her gently onto her back, she was wearing a Green Day t-shirt under a smart jacket and trousers--that was unlike her. She always dressed very smart. I gently remove her short strands off her face to reveal a nasty bruise on the side of her head. I try to stifle my heartbeat; it scared me seeing her like this. I’m about to call my officer but her long lashes flutter and suddenly she's looking at me, dazed.

"Y/N! Are you alright?" I inquire. She blinks, and then again, her eyebrows drawn together as she stares at me. I try again, “Y/N, answer me please! Are you alright?”

"I...do I...bloody look alright? Where did they go?" She snaps out of her daze and tries to sit up but her hand goes to her head which must be throbbing. I place a hand on her back so she doesn't fall back down.

"Oh thank god,” I sigh in relief, she could talk. She was alright. “Th-they’'ve managed to escape. We'll deal with that. You were knocked unconscious so we should get you checked-”

"Those bastards," she snarls. I bite back a chuckle as I help her up. She pushes me away as soon as she's on her feet. "I wasn't even supposed to bloody be here today you know that? It was my day off and....Jesus.” She clutches her forehead. “How's everyone else? Chris? Adam?"

"Everyone is fine, your guard’s being taken to hospital. Everyone else is untouched, we need to have you checked out though." I am mesmerized, as always, by her ability to talk about ten things at once.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s my case, I guess,” I tell her, expecting the question. She scowls. “I’ll have to ask you some questions later, but Y/N we need to have your head checked.”

“I’m sure you’d like that,” she mumbles.

“You’re proving by the second that you’re quite alright but we’ve got to get you to a medic anyway,” I gesture forward so she can walk ahead of me. I didn’t want her falling or anything. The constable at the door watches her walk out and eyes me warily.

"She need her statement taken chief?"

"I'll take her down to the station myself--she's hurt." I dismiss the officer and follow Y/N out. I wanted to keep an eye on her right now. “Can I help you walk?”

“My legs are working fine,” she snarls whilst clutching her forehead.

Your POV:

I could not believe today's turn of events. I was supposed to have a relaxing day off but instead, I’m rushed to work so I could be held up by thieves, forced to help them rob my branch, only to be mildly concussed. And the person on the case is none other than my ex-husband Harry Styles.

The only thing going for me is that I don't cry easily (or i would be a sniffling mess right now). And Harry was the last person I wanted to cry in front of although he’s seen me at much worse. I push aside those memories, ignoring his lingering eyes and try to walk ahead of him.

I cover up my shaking hands by stuffing them under the blanket I'm wrapped in when Harry leads me to the ambulance. He stays to the side while the medic goes through a questionnaire and informs me on what I need to know about being mildly concussed. All I could think about is the feeling of a gun pressed to the small of back, the chill of it through fabric. 

"Miss?" The medic asks.

"Sorry, I got it. Yes. Thank you."

"I asked how you got here?" The medic begins to look concerned. Shit. I did not want more attention.

"I...meant I got what you were saying. Sorry, I rode the tube in."

"Great. You can ride with me to the station," Harry says from the side. I avoid his gaze but I have to agree. There was no way I was taking the tube during a time like this. I had a concussion.

So I'm sat in the back whilst Harry drives with his partner. I catch Harry glancing in the rear-view more often than he should and when we make eye contact, he gives me a reassuring smile. But sitting in the back of the car, I feel like the metal tip of a gun still keeps my spine straight. My lungs feel like they're not expanding large enough for air and I clutch the seatbelt strapping me in. I try to name all the countries I could remember--a coping technique I’d used since I was a kid to try and distract myself.

"You alright miss?" The other officer sounds concerned.

"Yeah," I choke out. "Just a little stuffy back here."

"Oh ‘m sorry," Harry opens the back window and I greedily gulp the fresh air coming in. My panic subsides and I settle back into the seat.

*

"And that's all you remember?" Harry sits on the desk chair next to me even though his own seat remains empty behind the desk.

"Exactly as I've told you, like, 20 times Harry."

It was now two hours later; I'd sat waiting for an hour before receiving my phone only to find multiple calls from the bank’s higher-ups. After dealing with them, I had to wait another half hour before finally being interviewed. I proceeded to drink two cups of bad coffee while giving every detail of what I remember, their masks, and so on. Every time I said something that could help, Harry would backtrack and I would explain it three different ways. It was frustrating and the repetition kicked my anxiety up so that I was on the edge of a breakdown. I grip the arms of the chair and respond to Harry. "Listen, alright, why would I not be telling you the full story? Of course that's all I bloody remember! It's not like I had an out-of-body experience and I saw them leave through the back door.”

"I'm sorry Y/N, it's just routine." Harry keeps a straight face on.  "We have a few suspicions we're trying to corroborate by interviewing everyone involved. I promise I’m just being thorough-"

"Yeah yeah alright, you sound like you're reading from a bloody manual," I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh into the silence. When Harry doesn't say anything, I look up to see him watching me with an amused expression.

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"It’s been a while...I forgot how charming you can be.”

“What can I say, you bring it out in me.”

"Very interesting outfit by the way," he takes my snark in stride, gesturing to my outfit with his pen instead. I cross my arms in front of me. He's still got the stupid expression on his face, it looks unchanged from the one he used to give me once upon a time. When he found something I did funny but in a loveable way; the feelings that surface are almost unbearable.

"Don’t judge my outfit, I had to rush to work for our client meet-oh shit." I pull out my phone and check my email but there's nothing from the client. Probably avoiding the shit show. I notice the time, with all the time I’d wasted today I may as well not have taken the day off at all.

"So you weren't meant to be at work today except for this client? Bad timing isn’t it." Harry reads to himself from his notes. I stare at him, wishing I could burn a hole into his skull to see if he really had a brain in there.

"I've told you this five times before, Harry. You're literally reading from your notes. If you're just going to ask the same questions over and over I’m sure you can find the answers in there and I can go home."

"Right but something doesn't add up, I just want to make sure I have all the details."

"Do I have to be here to watch you do your mental maths?" I wasn't very nice when anxiety and frustration became my base emotions. But Harry knew that.

He looks at me, eyebrows raised at my snark. "I'm sure that you want to get to the bottom of this just as much as I do-"

"But that's not my job," I remind him. "That's yours. I've done mine, and I'd really just like to go home." My voice cracks, and I feel a rush of embarrassment.

"How about I drop you off home? I can walk through the day with you once more during the drive?”

He looks at me expectantly, “I’d rather stab myself in the eye.”

"Best not to with the concussion,” Harry pushes my buttons, and I’m kind of surprised. The last time we saw each other he’d been accommodating to my anger but he was pushing back today. Like he used to when we were together when he riled me up simply because he found it amusing.

When I scowl though, he gets serious. “Y/N, just let me give you a ride home and we can talk more.”

I didn’t want to stand around arguing, I was tired, so I just agree. He smiles, his dimples making a pretty appearance. Damn him.

H POV:

I’m surprised she agrees to ride home with me. I knew Y/N had a stubborn streak and giving in to my offer was new. She’d made it clear last time we saw each other that she wanted nothing to do with me. I was also curious to know where she lived, I’d only been to her office once since we’d split. And that was usually to drop off papers.

She actually answers my questions on the drive, albeit they’re one word answers, but she gives me space to talk out some theories I had. But she also disagrees with most of them, pointing out their flaws. The comfortable back-and-forth between us is bittersweet. This was why we were married once upon a time. We worked well together; after all, we’d been friends for years before dating the other. It was the friendship I missed the most when I thought about us.

When we drive up to her address, it’s a townhome in a decent part of the city. Her promotion clearly had its perks.

I leap out of the car to open her door before she could but she beats me to it, scowling at me as she realises what I was trying to do.

“So you live here?” I try to ease into a conversation, get her to open up, ask her how she was doing. But she looks at me like I’d asked a stupid question, waving her keys.

“You’re kind of dense for a detective,” she says when I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“Forget I asked,” getting personal was useless.

“Done.” She always manages to get the last word. She climbs her steps but I follow her up. She eyes me as she finds the correct one on her key ring. “What?”

“I just-have you got anyone living with you?”

“What’s that got to do with the case?” She asks, her defenses going up.

“You’re concussed, it’s best you have someone with you for the next 24 hours like the med-”

“I’ll be fine Harry,” her sharp edges soften but still, she only opens her door wide enough to step through. I can barely see anything behind her except for a hall.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” I try again.

“Nice of you to care,” the way she says it implies a deeper meaning, one that borders on a dangerous topic.

“I’m serious Y/N, this--a concussion’s no joke. And it was traumatic what you went through you really shouldn’t-”

“I’ve been on my own for a while now, I’ll be okay.” There she goes having the last word again. I raise my hands and back off.

“If you say so. I’ll...head back to the station but if you need anything, well, you know how to reach me.”

She nods, closing the door softly behind her. I sigh, it was a whirlwind last few hours but I was just grateful Y/N was going to be okay. I know she hated me, but I still cared about her. It was hard not to. We’d known each other for over a decade, and even though I hurt her in our past, and she might not agree with me, I cared. Caring about her didn’t have an on/off switch. I only wanted her to be okay. Maybe even happy.

Y POV:

I go through the motions for the rest of the afternoon, mostly I sit zoned out in front of the window while the morning plays like a loop in my head. Something about having your life hang in the balance of a stranger’s pointer finger made it feel so fragile. It unraveled me, and I can’t focus on anything. I just keep feeling the gun on my back, and smashing against the side of my head.

I keep my head iced, and avoid screens except to send out a couple emails and to call my sister after 8 voice messages that progresses from panic after hearing the news to annoyance as I don’t respond. When she finds out Harry’s on the case she swears.

“That bastard,” I can see her face in my mind, the one where she pursues her lips like mum used to. “You should report him, conflict of interest right? It’s traumatic enough what you’ve been through, you poor thing. I was just talking to Lewis and he said I should come down to stay with you this weekend-”

“That’s really alright,” I nip the idea in the bud. I loved my sister dearly but she was an overly anxious person and I don’t think that would be helpful for me right now. “It’s just a mild concussion, the medic said I should be cleared after 24 hours so it would only be a hassle for you to come down here.”

“Alright,” she says grudgingly. “But you say the word and I’m on the first train out. And I’ll give that ex of yours an earful if he’s anywhere near you again.”

I smile at my sister’s overprotective nature, “I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage that fine on my own.”

“That you can,” she laughs.

But when I put down the phone, the silence creeps in again. And normally I loved the quiet but like a broken record player, the voices and sounds from this morning continue to play in a loop in the silence.

I give up after 7 and start preparing for bed. But a call interrupts my nightly routine.

“Y/N,” it’s Harry. “It’s me, Harry.”

“I do have call display,” I say dryly.

“Right, I...wasn’t expecting you to pick up.”

“Is this about the case?” I was hoping he was calling to say the bastards were caught.

“Oh...not exactly. I was wondering if you’ve fed yourself. I’m in your area for work, it’s my last call. I thought I could bring you some takeout or...?”

“I was about to get ready for bed.” I reply.

“Oh. That’s early? Have you had dinner?”

I think about the pathetic cheese toast I’d managed to make. My stomach growls thinking about food, I didn’t seem to have an appetite until he’s said something. “Fine, only if you’re in my area.”

Surely, not even 10 minutes go by and by doorbell rings. Harry stands outside with a takeout bag, his pressed shirt from this morning is more rumpled with a few buttons undone.

“I parked on the street--is that alright?”

“I guess? You’re just here to drop this off.” I shrug.

“Actually I uh, I thought I’d keep you some company.”

“I...” I don’t know if I should be offended. “I don’t need company. I only agreed to the takeout.”

“I’m part of the package,” he hides the bag behind him, a smug smile on his face. I roll my eyes, it was too late to do this with him.

So I leave the door open and head inside, tightening my robe around me. Harry was part of my past and having him here, in the place I’d built myself back again, feels wrong. This was where I’d shed the identity of being a divorcee before 30, and here he was. When I turn to see why he was so quiet, I find him scanning my gallery wall and smiling at the pictures.

“Hey, I’m on here,” he points to a small group picture.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I walk back to him to get the food. “I just looked good there.”

It was a shot from my sister’s wedding, Harry and I with the newlyweds. It was taken a few weeks before we’d made us official actually--moving from friends to lovers was maybe one of the bigger mistake I’d made in life. Another was agreeing to marry him.

“I look pretty good too,” he leans in closer. I ignore him and take the cartons of Chinese out and grab cutlery. He joins me, I hand him a beer and take a sparkling water for myself. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“Okay,” I shrug. “Just sorting through it all. Trying to avoid screens, all that.”

“That’s good,” he steals a chicken from the container I’m dumping into my plate. I eye him but he just grins, chewed food between his cheeks. I let it slide. “So you’re not supposed to sleep with a concussion or something?”

I sigh, “That’s not true, I only have a mild concussion!”

“Well I’m not a bloody doctor!”

“Thank god for that.”

“You’ll never stop doing that will you?” He rubs his chopsticks together and attempts to eat with him. “Always so snarky.”

“I can’t help it,” I continue to watch him fail with his chopsticks and pick up a fork. “It sustains me.”

“You should try being nice for once.”

“Tried it once, didn’t work out well for me. So...here I am.”

I was being passive, I knew that. He knew that with the way he eyes me over his food. He keeps quiet though, knowing there was nothing he could say in this moment to make a difference. We eat in silence until he receives a call and he leaves to take it. I clean up so by the time he gets back I’ve just loaded the dishwasher.

“I know the sleep thing’s not true for you,” Harry says as he approaches. “But I think I should stay here overnight. Just to make sure you’re-”

“No,” I cross my arms. “There’s no reason for you to stay the night Harry. I don’t need you here.”

“It’s for your peace of mind-”

“It’s for your peace of mind Harry. And frankly, I don’t care about your peace of mind. I don’t want you sleeping over, I’m not comfortable with that.”

“Y/N, c’mon! It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we didn’t sleep in the same bed for years--I’ll be sleeping on the couch! You’re not in your best shape and it’s just for a night, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend or something to go home to?” I ask. He shifts his gaze and shakes his head.

“Nope, my bachelor pad just me. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”

I dry my hands and watch him, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I knew him well enough to recognise the wide stance, shoulders back, and jut of his chin. He wasn’t backing down.

“I don’t want to hear you, Not even a peep. I’ll make up the couch but this is the one and only time you’re wearing me down, you’re lucky I’m not in the mood to argue-”

“Promise,” he holds his hand up to his chest, a grin on his face knowing he won.

I leave him with a comfortable setup and head up to my own room. There was a spare upstairs but I don’t think I could handle him sleeping next door to me. It was weird how in just one day I’d seen more of him than I had in the last couple years and now he was sleeping in my living room like we were okay. Not like he wasn’t the man who’d broken my trust, and my heart.

As I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep as the day replays in my head, another set of memories infiltrates my mind and keeps me from sleeping. The story of Harry and I, the naive beginning, eventful middle, and heartbreaking end. My mind repeats its history and I don’t fall asleep for hours. When sleep finally comes, my dreams are haunted by the same memories.

[felswritingfire]

Could we get nyarlthotep sfw/nsfw senarios? Maybe with a male reader if that's ok?

Bro, I have such a love/hate relationship and he’s one of the only characters I can say has enigma energy (also of course it’s alright if the reader is male, we stan Male Reader rights dammit)

Dating Nyarlathotep

SFW

Where do I even begin with this guy- 

When Nyarl has a thing for you, it is the most obvious yet not obvious thing in the world; he’ll crank up the teasing to a solid 20 and then glue himself to your side, running random touches along your spine or brushing his claws against your hip, and then all of a sudden he’s gone and it’s a whole week before he pops up again. And this continues for a good three months, progressively gets more touchy and the periods he’s gone get more sporadic, until either A) you get fed up and confront him about it or B) you begin to give him a taste of his own medicine (AKA avoid the asshole and keep him from touching you)

Which, either way, both scenarios play into Nyarl’s grubby little claws

The A) option would be one where he would lean against a wall/back of the chair while you go off on him. All the while having an infuriatingly easy going smile for you tearing into him; you don’t know if he’s listening and it is pissing you off. In actuality he is, but he doesn’t want you to know that, you’re cute when you’re mad, my guy. So, he’ll just sit there staring at you with half lidded eyes, letting you blow off some steam before he presses a finger against your lips and gives you some bedroom eyes and, it’s up to you whether or not you’re gonna have the do right then and there, but he knows he got you hook, line, and sinker

If the scenario is the B) option, he’ll amp his bullshit up so inconceivably high. He’ll begin to purposely leave risqué touches on your person: he’ll brush his hand against your lower back, maybe even hook his fingers in the back pockets of your pants just so he can drag you back against him, he’ll start resting his face in the crook of your neck (whether your standing or sitting for him to be able to do this) brushing his mouth just close enough to the shell of your ear for you to shiver- and if you’re trying to avoid all his touches to get back at him? Hoooo, boy, good luck;

He’ll get a little pissy at this because he wants to see your reaction (RIP you if you get flustered really easily). So, he’ll begin to corner you, or catch you in the most crowded places just so he has an excuse to press into you from behind. At these points, especially if you’re stuck in a very crowded place like, let’s say for example, a subway train (👀👀), he’ll press up against your back while slipping his hands over your thighs and up to your stomach before going back down to the dip of your hips and pressing you harder against him. And you bet your ass that any movement or- ahem- subtle pressure to your ass is just the sway of the train. He’ll chatter away like nothing too and it is bullshit. He’s an asshole in the fact that he’ll make you two stand like that until the ride is over

Once a relationship gets going between you two, you’re honestly surprised to find out how loyal he actually is- he’s uber loyal, but he doesn’t expect the same level of loyalty out of you? Like, just, he knows that you’ll find other people attractive and he understands you might… you know- want to pursue some sort of sexual interest with them (So, he doesn’t mean you’re a cheater, just that, people are hot and he’s leaving it open on your side)-

 Which is either super insulting or super sad to you, it’s up to you. He mentions a lot (in his own way) that he’s fine if you go off and have a one night stand with someone else, but he’ll get all serious all of a sudden and it is terrifying because he’ll suddenly hover two inches away from your face with that bitchy look he gets when he’s salty about something and straight up be like: “don’t make it a thing though.”

And he’ll go back to laughing and joking with you like nothing happened- What the fuck, Nyarl????? 

Please don’t “cheat” on him tho, it takes a lot for him to even care enough about someone to be a little less of an asshole to them let alone get into a relationship with them. So, he’s pretty attached to you

He doesn’t really believe in the concept of love, but after you two have been together for so long- you’re the closest thing that he’s getting to love, dude, and he kinda hates it???? It’s all fuzzy and he’s warm inside and if you get sad? And it’s his fault? Insta death. 

But he likes you too much to let you go, so, aw well, guess he can put up with it

Surprisingly, a possessive boy- he doesn’t like people talking to you for long periods of time and he’ll get salty if you seem like you’re having more fun with one of your friends then you do when you’re with him; just give him a lot of cuddles and smooches when you get home and he’ll forgive you immediately as he wraps you up in a big ol’ bear hug with his arms and his weird tail hand things will totally join in and wrap themselves around whatever they can grab, which is a really cute gesture that can become awkward really fast depending where they decide to grab

SPEAKING OF HIS WEIRD ASS TAIL HANDS- you’ll have to deal with them having semi-sentience and seeking you out whenever they can and witnessing Nyarl legitimately yell at them over it

It’s so surreal- and honestly, you’re with Nyarl, you should have accepted this by now but- to see him grab his tail in a choke hold and bring up the hands to his face as he tells them to knock it off and then one just reels back and slaps him across his snout, which instigates him slapping the hand back, and they start having an elementary school level slapping fight until one of them hit the other too hard and they’re making grabby hands for you because they got hurt-

And then you gotta kiss their boo-boos 

Also RIP your ass’ personal safety because those hands like to grab it and you’ve almost died a couple of times because they do it out of nowhere

Nyarl will kiss you spontaneously and out of nowhere. There is no preparing for his smooches they just come and go like the wind

Though he does give you a lot of pecks, his favorite types of kisses are french kisses because he likes it nasty 

Since he is passionate about his work you’ll have to remind him to eat and drink water and take breaks because he gets wrapped up in his work a lot- which he really appreciates and if you do the same thing, then you bet your ass that he’ll get you to take breaks because he refuses to let go of you as he hugs and showers you in kisses- at those times it’s soft Nyarl hours

He has no understandings of personal space so he’ll just… always be in your bubble and you have to really convince him to get out of it if you need some space

 If you two ever get in a fight, Nyarl is literally the worst person about it because, not only is he petty, but he’s also, well, Nyarl- so he’ll definitely come off as he’s not caring what’s made you upset by keeping that easy grin on his face and shooting off into crazy ass tangents, but that’s his way of trying to lighten the mood, which has mix results depending how important the topic is to you

He’ll get serious the more the argument drags on and how emotional you’re getting about it

Off of those topics, his ideal date is taking you to a club, but one that’s super fancy and has a VIP floor so you two can dance and be in each others presence and chat while feeling the bass of the music

When Nyarl gets jealous he becomes more sporadic than he already is. Which is a sight to behold because a majority of the time  he’ll somehow cause the conversation to steer back to the person and cause them to put their foot in their mouth. But if he ends up encountering that one person that can actually keep up with his mind games, he’s not above just warping their ass somewhere- which you’ve gotten mad at him before about, because oh my lord, Nyarl, you can’t just do that- 

Dating him means that you’re going to be listening to music 25/8, he likes all genres but when he’s at home, he prefers chill, atmospheric music like Lo-Fi

NSFW 

AMAB USED

(Dom Nyarlothotep)

Subs rejoice! For this man (hyena???) is a Switch leaning Dom! So, he’ll definitely be taking over when you both first have sex

He’s a tad aggressive about it since he’s super eager to get at it, so if it’s your first time, you’ll have to remind him to slow down- which he will, but you’ll have to remind him periodically

This is one of the times where he doesn’t get all pissy with his tails for just grabbing you- they like to grip at your thighs the most and if, he’s laying on top of you, they’ll be caressing your sides and fondling anything that they could get their hands on

He’ll also use them to keep your legs open if you get embarrassed and try to close them because this boy likes to S T A R E at your erection standing proud, he gets a weird trip from it, like yeah, he did that to you (but that’s if you’re in a place where you can be on your back without someone just walking in on you two)

He’s a mega tease, especially out in public, so he’ll drag you into an alleyway and push you against the wall and press his body hard against you (no matter if you’re taller or shorter than him) he’ll run his tongue over your neck and the shell of your ear, scraping his canines against the hollow of your neck as he grinds against your erection through your jeans. He’ll make sure you can hear the low groans he’s letting out as he rolls his hips, grabbing your ass in his hands to bring you flush against his hips. He’ll start whispering filthy words into your ear, riling you up as you grab against him and bite your lip to get from making noise

He’s really good at giving oral

If he gives you a blow job, you’re gonna be blissed out by the end of it. He has a long tongue so he’ll start just under the head of it, before he moves to cover the tip of it and lap at the slit with the tip of his tongue, then he’ll bring you into his mouth, mindful of his teeth, but he isn’t above scraping them against your shaft. He doesn’t really have a gag reflex so he has no problem taking you all the way into his throat while he bobs his head while he sucks you off. He’ll also utilize his hands and play with your balls while he sucks you off

When he gives a rim job HE GOES O F F

So, get ready to hold on fam, because you’re in for a ride. He’ll have you put your ass up while he’s nipping at the meat of your ass before he begins to use the flat of his tongue to lave long licks over your twitching hole; soon he’s pressing his tongue into you and groaning at the way you taste on his tongue

When he’s fingering you, he’s mindful of his claws, but he has a tendency to… scare you??? It’s not even that he means it (or so you hope) he just goes f a s t, so sometimes he’ll push against you and you’ll feel them brush a tad to close for comfort on the walls of your ass, but he’ll make you forget about it real quick because, you don’t know what type of fancy fingers this bitch has but he finds your prostate in a snap. And he’ll focus on it because he likes seeing how much of a mess you become when he does-

He’s also extremely thorough about his fingering, so expect to cum at least once from it 

When he’s finally going to press his dick into you, he’s really talkative, even if that talkative is just him whispering filth into your ear, and he’ll rub his tip against the rim of your asshole before he presses into you and sheathes in one thrust (hence why he stretches you so thoroughly)

He’s very vocal in general, a lot of low grunts and moans if your doing some good old exobistionism, but in the privacy and the comfort of your own home, you’d think that you were getting fucked by a porn star: loud moans, extremely talkative, cursing galore, groans, whimpers- the whole shabang

If you have a vocal kink RIP you, bro, because he uses it to his advantage

When he’s topping, his favorite positions are either: pressing your face to the wall while he has a death grip on your hips or doggy style. He has a bit of a dom/sub kink in him

He B I T E S. Really hard. So, if you need him to real it in, he’ll try, but no promises

I suggest a safe word in general tbh

Also, after he cums in you, and if you guys didn’t use protection, he likes to watch it dribble out of you and then clean up with his tongue, so, just watch out for that

(Sub Nyarlathotep)

It takes… a bit of convincing for Nyarl to be the sub

He likes the high he gets off of domming, but, since he likes you so much, he’ll let you top 

He’s a pretty big pillow princess tho, so he’ll definitely act like a brat

You know when I mentioned that he’s really loud as a dom? Well, he’s even louder as a sub

If you give him a blowjob he’ll be really vocal about it and it’s one of the few times that you’ll hear him stutter, especially if you deepthroat him. He will be in bliss, and pray you got a good grip on his hips because he’ll thrust into your throat if you don’t watch it

Nyarl is incredibly neutral on rim jobs but he won’t say no to one

He’ll probably be giggling the entire time as he presses against your mouth. He likes his taint being licked at though

Fingering Nyarl is a fun thing to do because he straight up will buck his hips so hard on your fingers that he’s basically fucking himself on them. He has no chill

He likes positions where he’s still on top despite being penetrated, so, think cowgirl/reverse cowgirl; he feels much more comfortable about being in control of the pace and how hard the sex is

When you do penetrate him, he’ll let out a long moan that turns into a growl and he might overwhelm you a bit as he just starts bouncing on you. But, you get to watch the concentrated face he makes as he works himself up and down on your shaft

He still bites as a sub

So, again, safe word

(After Sex)

Nyarl has a tendency to just know out after sex

So it’s kinda up to you to initiate aftercare, which he’ll find very sweet if you do and will probably tease you for it, but he won’t complain

He is all up for cuddles though, he likes being little spoon, and on the off chance he has enough energy to talk, he’ll have some pillow talk with you

He’ll probably just hum as you whisper to him, but he’ll put a few words in here and there

After sex Nyarl is just compleletly different to normal Nyarl because he got out a lot of that pent up energy he has. He’s actually really cute like this??? 

He adopts a whole baby enigma energy when he drifts to sleep in your arms

[blameitonthebleach]

Well hello there! I would like to request some good ol' Yumichika. I want some fluff where he's pouty because he thinks that you think Ruri'iro Kujaku is more attractive than he is... Thanks in advance! Love your work!

Hello, “anon” you sneaky shit! This prompt is so funny to me, I almost didn’t even know where to start. I hope you enjoy it!

“Yumi… Are you still sulking?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He’d been like this since yesterday, unreasonably upset because you happened to to think his Zanpakuto was quite pretty. After the fiasco with Muramasa concluded, you had simply voiced your opinion on his partner’s appearance (before he’d reverted back to just a blade)–earning Ruri’iro’s gratitude, and a rather nice compliment on your beauty in return–and Yumichika had been grumpy ever since. It wasn’t so bad that he was avoiding you, but there was definitely a chill in the air that could rival Captain Hitsugaya. He refused to make eye contact for long, and the permanent grimace on his face was clue enough that this “argument” needed to be settled. 

“I am not sulking,” Yumichika countered, still not looking at you. 

Most everyone in the Seireitei had a collective “day off” to recover, including the two of you. You had wanted to spend the day together, talk, maybe go look at some shops, but with the way your boyfriend was acting…that wasn’t likely. Ikkaku had long since departed the Eleventh Division compound, stating that he “couldn’t take this awkward atmosphere,” and that it was “stifling,” so you sat, staring at Yumichika’s back as he pouted. 

You’d had enough.

“Oh, really?” you challenged, then gestured between you. “What’s this, then? A new way of wooing me? Because being ignored is such a turn-on.” He shot you a glare over his shoulder, pinning you with beautiful purple eyes as he opened his mouth. 

“You think Fuji Kujaku is prettier than me,” he retorted, swiveling his body just so he wasn’t straining his neck to scowl at you. 

You blinked at him in open astonishment, unsure of even where to begin. For starters, you understood that he used the name “Fuji Kujaku” in battle so as not to be ostracized by his squad for his kido-type Zanpakuto, but now he was just being petty. And was that really what he thought? That you were somehow more attracted to his Zanpakuto’s spirit than your own boyfriend? Bullshit.

“What in hell gave you that impression?” you yelled. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It didn’t seem so ridiculous when you were complimenting him right after the battle,” he argued. “’Wow, you’re really beautiful! How do you get your skin to look like that?’ Wasn’t that what you said?”

“Wha–? Yes? I honestly don’t remember exactly what I said, but what’s wrong with that? Why can’t I give compliments where they’re due?”

“You can, but not to that lousy, no good narcissist who thinks that the world revolves around him!” He was fully facing you now, hands clenched in front of him in frustration, mouth twisted into a deep frown with a furrow between his brows.

This was starting to give you a headache. He should know that one’s Zanpakuto was a compliment to their own soul, and that most of what applied to Ruri’iro Kujaku also applied to himself. After all, Zanpakuto were an extension of oneself, and to ignore that fact was futile. Seeing as this was going nowhere fast, you decided that simmering down was your best course of action. With a long sigh, you settled into a seiza position, hands placed neatly on your lap, and looked Yumichika in the eye, chin held high in slight defiance.

“I do not think Ruri’iro Kujaku is prettier than you,” you stated.

“Then what–”

“Yumi,”–you held up a hand–”first of all, I’m dating you. Not your Zanpakuto, you. Since the first day we met, I’ve always thought you were strikingly gorgeous–to an unreasonable degree, I might add–and sometimes I find it hard to believe that you give me the time of day.”

Yumichika settled back down, only just, but at least his hands were down at his sides again. His gaze was contemplative, questioning, like he wasn’t quite sure whether or not to believe you, but he didn’t interrupt and let you say your piece.

“Second, your Zanpakuto is a part of you, even if it pains you so. Sorry, but your personalities are incredibly similar. It’s a fact that when people are too similar, they tend to butt heads, but such is the bond of a shinigami and their sword. Therefore, of course I’m going to think he’s attractive. He’s a part of your soul, a soul I love very dearly.”

With that off your chest, you were finding that the wind in your sails was dying down, and your initial zeal had dissipated. There was silence following your confession, the buzz of cicadas the only thing to fill the void, and you averted your gaze, cheeks burning ever so slightly. Blunt confessions of love weren’t really your thing, but you were sure he wouldn’t understand unless you spelled it out for him. He was simultaneously fiercely observant and oblivious, a rather odd combination. Perhaps “stubborn” was a better word.

Peeking up through your lashes to gauge his reaction, you were met with the same steely glare as before, but there was something there that puzzled you. Before you could decipher what it was, he closed his eyes and let out an irritated sigh, flipping his hair in an unconscious gesture.

“Why do you always have to be right?” he quipped, piercing you with those eyes again. They always left you unable to move, one of the few things in this world that really got your heart racing. It didn’t seem like he was completely appeased, but the smirk on his beautiful features promised of reconciliation. 

Quick as a whip, Yumichika had your wrist in an iron grip–proving once again that looks could be deceiving–and was hauling you into his lap. With a yelp, you braced your hands against his chest, eyes wide. Your chin grasped gently between his fingers, he grinned at you with sultry eyes, running a thumb over your pretty pink lips.

“This Zanpakuto of mine and I can agree on one thing, at least,” he purred. Too stunned to do much of anything besides stare, you gulped.

“W-What’s that?” Oh, how the situation had changed.

“After meeting you face to face,” he continued, “we both agree that, regardless of what you think, you’re stunning in your own right.” You could feel your eyelids getting heavier, lidded as your chest filled with warmth.

“…Really?”

“Really. Your character is just as dazzling as your outward appearance, and something I admire. So…” Indulging you for just a moment, he placed a kiss on your waiting lips, grinning all the while, and chuckling when you followed after him when he pulled away. “…How are you going to prove to me that I’m your number one?”

“You’re so unfair…” you mumbled, clutching the fabric of his shihakusho tighter in your delicate hands. “I already told you my feelings, why do you have to be a jerk?”

He thread his fingers through your hair, scrunching his fingers through it as his eyes twinkled with mischief. “You bring out the best in me,” he teased.

“More like worst,” you scoffed, but cupped his face to bring him closer. 

Closing your eyes, you reveled in the feeling of his soft lips on yours, savored the taste of his mouth as your kiss deepened. Promises of reparations flowed between you as you shivered at his caresses. You were so close to pushing him down, intending to make good on his wishes of “proving” he was your number one, when he suddenly stopped. Confused, you pulled back to look at him, noting the look of disgust and annoyance that distorted his face.

“What’s that look for?�� you asked, mentally panicking that you’d done something wrong.

“That damn Fuji Kujaku’s trying to pick a fight,” he growled. “I suppose our connection is stronger since being manifested, but he just won’t shut up. How irritating.”

You couldn’t help it, and snorted, devolving into a fit of giggles at the thought of Ruri’iro Kujaku making offhand comments inside Yumichika’s head. Yumichika wasn’t nearly as amused, and scowled at you as you laughed, remarking that he didn’t think it was funny at all, and that it was actually a nuisance. This only made you laugh harder, and your love-proving was put on hold until later that evening.