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newcaptainofsquad9 · 2 years ago

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Something Familiar~Plus Sized! Rhaenyra Targaryen x Black! plus sized! reader

Pairing: Rhaenyra x reader

Genre: Modern AU, friends to lovers, College AU, Hurt and Comfort, Smut

Warnings: Smut, 18 + only. Mentions of fatphobia, colorism and racism.

Summary: After watching Rhaenyra go through a long string of lovers, you’re left with her on another winter weekend, a bi weekly girls night that occurs throughout the semester. You find comfort and solace within her, confessions are made along with discovering things about each other.

Word Count: 4, 124

Writer’s Note: I wished we got a more plus sized Rhaenyra from the books so here’s a bit of that here. I couldn’t get that damn SZA snl song out my head and thought what if Rhaenyra wanted a big girl herself and finding not just the perfect cuffing season partner, but an amazing partner in general. Hope you guys enjoy it!

“You sure you don’t want me to order in something for you?” Rhaenyra asked for the third time.

You snuggled on the blue sofa with her large, golden stuffed dragon, Syrax and shook your head yet again.

“I ate after class, like I said before, Rhae,” you said. “I’m fine.”

Rhaenyra frowned as she returned to her phone to type away at something, leaving you to her stuffed dragon and your thoughts. She looked quite cozy this evening: gray hoodie that pooled down to her knees, black sweat pants that brought out her curves and ass so well (a little too well but this was the first time in a long time you found yourself looking so hard). Her hair even looked effortless in a lazy updo of silver strands that always had you mesmerized.

“Y/N, your last class ended at 3, it’s only 5 and we’ve got a long night of drinking and movie watching to get through,” she said. Her fingers still worked against her phone screen while she spoke. “And you need to eat again, so I’ve got a pizza ordered for us later. OK?”

You only shrugged, accepting your fate and held Syrax closer. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to eat, that asshole you went out on one date with still got to you. Rhaenyra must have caught on to your troubled demeanor, already stepping over to the couch and taking the spot next to you.

“What’s wrong?” she said. Her purple eyes shined with concern, they were a bit light from this close, not that you were paying too much attention to them. “Did you want something else?”

“No, pizza is fine. It’s not about that,” you said.

“Then what?” Rhaenyra whined. “Did finals go to shit? Did some asshole hit your bike again.”

“No, but there was an asshole,” you said. You fidgeted with your fingers as you continued. “Remember that guy I met at the bar?”

Rhaenyra nodded and placed her hand on her temple.

“Red Keep, yeah?” she said. “Was it that broody, handsome guy? Crispin?”

“Criston,” you said, correcting her. “Yeah, the first few dates went well. Charming as he was when I saw him but...”

You trailed off at the thought of him and his abhorred attitude. Rhaenyra laced her hands together with yours, a look of fierceness overtook her face.

“What did that fucker do?” she said. “If he hurt or touched you--”

“He didn’t.” you said. “Well, not physically at least. He started pestering me about weight and losing it soon before he wanted to take me out to more fancy places and even accused me of giving it up too fast when I just wanted to kiss him. He mentioned how Black girls were easy and I just walked away from it. He looked unstable when I did so I blocked him on all socials”

Rhaenyra blinked. You thought she didn’t hear you, but her face told you all you needed to know: it was bunched up in fury. Her hands went to the pockets of her hoodie, yanking out her cell phone.

“Rhae, what are you doing?”

“Getting Harwin to beat his ass,” she said. “Maybe even Daemon, he still has a soft spot for you.”

You took her wrists, stopping her before she could finish a text to Harwin. Harwin Strong. Her ex-boyfriend and current on-again-off-again friend with extra benefits, benefits you heard of constantly through texts and phone calls. You didn’t’ hate Harwin (the opposite, he was cool), but you hated how much Rhaenyra harped on how good he was at the devils tango. Sure, it was nice to hear your friend so satisfied but you felt insecure about it. Not that you didn’t like Harwin like that (he was fine as hell, Rhaenyra had taste clearly) but you always craved her attention, well, more of it.

“Don’t! I handled it,” you said.

Rhaenyra nodded, fingers tapping he screen again to instead go to her contact list, thumb hovering over Daemon’s number. Your ex and an extremely hot headed man who might kill Criston.

“Daemon, then?” Rhaenyra asked, a little too calmly. “He might leave Criston with a broken leg, or worse.”

“Rhaenyra! No,” you whined. “It’s OK.”

“It’s not, Y/N,” she said. “You’re too good for that. That bastard hurt my best friend, and I’d get him back for you. You know that, right?”

Rhaenyra’s purple eyes bore into yours, sucking you into their gorgeous pools. That was why you wanted more of her attention. She cared about you, more than Daemon did, more than anything Criston ever tried to do in the brief moments you both dated. You never been with women intimately before, yet you couldn’t help but fantasize of what it would be like with Rhaenyra; the one holding her, kissing her and the one she raves about to her friends.

“I can get his ass if you don’t want Daemon to,” she said. “Y/N? You all right? You’re sure he didn’t do anything else? You look distant.”

Damn, she caught you. Well at least she still thinks its about Criston, you didn’t know how to bring these feelings up to Rhaenyra. It wasn’t about her not being into women; Rhaenyra came out to you as bisexual a year of knowing you during freshman year, so you knew she was into women too. She also dated Black people too so that wasn’t an obstacle either. The main and only obstacle in the way was that of your friendship, you were never closed to to the friends you had growing up and Rhaenyra was different. She actually cared, like she did now by threatening a guy you dated for about a month--she understood it could have been much worse.

“Y/N, talk to me,” Rhaenyra said. She took your hand and squeezed it. “I can hop in my car right now and key his car, give me the word.”

You shook your head this time, yet you couldn’t help but giggle at the threat of it all.

Rhaenyra smiled too.

“I’m serious, that bastard fucked with the wrong bestie,” she said. “You sure he didn’t do anything else?”

“I am,” you said. “Y-You didn’t have to threaten him with Harwin and Daemon. You wanted him to disappear, didn’t you? ”

Rhaenyra shrugged, her smile widened as she rubbed down gently on your knuckles.

“No,” she stated quickly. You gave her a good side eye, forcing her to continue. “Well, I just wanted Harwin rough him up a bit in case he’d try something like that again. Would a mild threat be OK?”

You gave in, anything to stop discussing your almost-douchebag-of-an-ex.

“Yes, but if Harwin goes too hard on him, I heard nothing,” you said as you retreated back against her stuffed dragon Syrax, cuddling against her golden belly. “What film are we starting with?”

***

You found yourself slotted on the sofa with Syrax between you and Rhaenyra, pizza boxes on the table before you, along with a package of cheap, Christmas-themed cookies from her refrigerator; the movie that played was a spicy, albeit, a little too spicy rom-com.

Halfway through the movie and the characters are already heavy petting, making out and moaning like no one’s business, pushing it’s supposed PG-13 rating to it’s extreme. You felt the room get hot as the two female leads made out on the bed, one in the others lap, not giving the other a chance to breathe in the kiss.

“Wow, they’re really going at it, aren’t they?” you said. You got up from the sofa, grabbing a few cookies. “These cookies are amazing.”

Rhaenyra nodded. She pulled you by your wrist, then tugged you closer until you were nearly in her lap, sat on her thick, plush knee. The heat rose up in your chest, burning well enough for sweat to follow underneath your long sleeve. It wasn’t pulled down properly to cover the entirety of your bear back brushing her abdomen as she pulled you flush against her.

“You’re tense,” she said. Her hands were warm against the skin of your back, foreign at how quick they flew there. It made you shiver. “Are you ok? Do you want to watch something else?”

You shook your head and attempted to flee from the close contact, yet Rhaenyra pulled you further against her until your back hit her soft stomach; she had you trapped within her arms before your second attempt, chuckling near your ear.

“Is there something wrong with cuddles?” she said. “We always cuddle. Are you still upset about Criston?”

She wrapped her arms around your waist, laid her chin against your shoulder with those lilac eyes full of enough love and concern that always managed to make you feel safe. That was the issue though, it didn’t make you feel comfort, rather hot and bothered with how she touched your skin so easily. It could be familiar, like her and Harwin and the other string of exes and lovers she left in your wake during your friendship. With her so close now it was difficult not to notice how straight her white hair was, reflective of snow that fell and just as beautiful. Her lips full and rosy, perfect and kissable. Too perfect.

Rhaenyra leaned closer, forehead on the edge of your jaw as she leaned her head up; you leaned your head down, lips meeting hers in a kiss. Her lips were soft, tasting sweet as the cookies you shared: like a sugar-filled concoction that emulated Christmas--something you craved throughout life, a nostalgia you couldn’t reach but always yearned. Her arms tightened around you, twisted you so that you were now straddling her.

The feeling of her plush thighs under your ass broke you from your spell. You pulled back from her, breathless and embarrassed due to the heat that radiated so, you felt itchy. Suddenly Harwin and those lovers invaded your mind, what if she still had feelings for them? What if you fucked it up for yourself and your friendship?

Rhaenyra saw your internal panic and placed a hand on your cheek.

“Y/N, breathe,” she instructed.

You tried to do so, yet it grew ineffectual as words spilled from you fast.

“I’m so sorry! I-I know you’re probably getting back together with Harwin,” you blurted. “I-I shouldn’t have kissed you, I-I was in a moment!”

Rhaenyra tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

“What moment was it?” she said. “And last time I checked, I haven’t dated Harwin in a year, haven’t fucked him in six months.”

“Nyra, I’m being serious,” you groaned. “You don’t have anyone else? The kiss wasn’t weird, was it?”

She shook her head.

“No one. And it wasn’t weird, different but a good different,” Rhaenyra said. She caressed your sides, then pushed at the plump middle. “But familiar at the same time. I always thought you were hot, Y/N, I just couldn’t find it in me to act. But you did that for us. I should have done it before, I always wondered why you looked at me in certain ways.”

As Rhaenyra spoke her eyes devoured you, traced every inch while her hand rested against your thigh. Her touch was warm now, inviting as you played with the strings of her hoodie.

“What ways?” you said.

She smiled again, bearing beautiful teeth while she snickered.

“Like I was the ground you worshiped,” Rhaenyra said. “Not in the literal sense, that’s more of Harwin’s style but you would do anything for me. Which scared me, because I wanted to be that for you. I am that for you, that’s why I wanted to deal with Criston. I knew he wasn’t good for you.”

Her lilac eyes flashed with anger at the mention of Criston. You watched her and contemplated getting off her lap, but she kept you there as she took your hand.

“I’m willing to try whatever you want tonight,” Rhaenyra said. Her eyes softened again before she pressed a light kiss to your hand. “We can finish the frisky film, or get a little frisky ourselves. I like having you on my lap,pretty girl.”

Rhaenyra’s words made you warm. It was a good warm this time, no longer leading with an itch but something calmer, yet you were still weary with any sort of frisky fun she suggested. Sure, you made the first move, but she was still your best friend.

“Y/N, are you still with me?” she said. Her hand traveled to your arm to trace it softly. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to--”

“But I do, Rhaenyra!” you blurted, cutting her off. “I-I love- l-like kissing you. It felt better than kissing Daemon, much better.”

Rhaenyra kneaded at your thighs to bring you closer till your chests pressed against one another, along with your foreheads, lips inches from one another.

“Can I kiss you this time?” she said.

You nodded and leaned in to kiss her.

“I need a yes, Y/N,” she whispered, her hands caressing your face. “Let me hear you.”

“Yes,” you said, “Kiss me.”

Rhaenyra’s lips met yours again with enough fire that you had to suppress a moan. Your lips moved together fervently as a dance that basked in the sweet tastes you both shared: of lust, cheap tasting cookies an enough passion. The both of you broke from each other after a few moments, eyes huge and never leaving each other to speak non-verbally.

Her mouth went to your neck to lay soft kisses to the skin, all the while slight moving her hips, thighs slipping under you expertly, alleviating a nice, tight feeling at your core.

“Nyra,” you groaned. Hands found themselves in her silver locks, you tugged slightly. “You’re moving too fast.”

Rhaenyra chuckled, sudden warm breath tickled you while her lips stopped just below your jaw at the base of your throat.

“Oh? You want me to go slower?” she said. Her voice playful and low on your skin, kisses continued prolonged and deep to leave a few marks. “Does it feel good?”

She jerked her hips again, forcing you to tilt your head back and grasp at her arms for support. It felt wonderful. Her voice, the kisses, the movement of her hips: soft, big and strong for you. Careful for you. Was she ever this good for Harwin?

“Y/N? Shit, am I really going to fast?” Rhaenyra said.

She pulled back to give you space yet you chased; you kissed her and wrapped your arms around her neck to keep her close.

“N-No, it feels amazing,” you said against her lips. “I-I’m just overthinking is all. Can I be honest?”

Rhaenyra nodded sharply, lilac eyes never left your face. It was safe. She solidified that feeling for you.

“You won’t compare me to Harwin? I-It’s not like I’m jealous of him or anything!”

Of course she’d think you’re jealous of him. This is the third time you’e mentioned him while you’re on her lap during a make out session.

“No, I won’t, Y/N,” she said. Her lilac danced with a bit of mischief as they waltzed the curves of your body. “But it’s ok if you are jealous. I know I was of Daemon.”

“Wait? You were?” you said.

“Yeah, I see what you saw in him,” Rhaenyra said. “He’t hot, got an energy about me that makes people want to be with him but he’s not my type. He’s got too much fire, like someone you know?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “You both are very passionate. He was a decent boyfriend but didn’t pay attention to me as much as I want.”

Rhaenyra hummed against your neck and planted a few more kisses there.

“You told me, I remember all of the complaints,” she said, engraving the words into the crook of your neck. “I wanted so much to tell you that you could do so much better, I could be so much better. But I was with Harwin and I thought you were completely happy. Did Daemon make you feel that way?”

You knew the answer as soon as she asked, even though the kisses she accumulated was a major distraction.

“No, he was decent, sure and great on certain occasions but I wasn’t happy,” you explained. “But right now I feel content with you.”

Rhaenyra’s lips spread to a grin that tickled at your skin. You couldn’t help but smile too.

“Was he good with his mouth?” she said. “Well, besides running it that is.”

The heat rose up in you again. The bad heat this time, yet it transformed into the good kind that struck your core as Rhaenyra’s hands traced down your belly to your inner thigh to pet the flesh there.

“Don’t get shy on me again, love,” she whispered. “Did Daemon eat you out like he should have? I don’t remember any stories of any mind-blowing orgasms about it. Matter of fact, maybe his dick was lacking in that department too.”

“Rhaenyra!”

She giggled and kissed the corner of your lips. Her hand squeezed at your thigh, jolting you at the sensation. You cringed at the jiggly skin she felt. Criston popped back into your head and even Daemon who didn’t have a problem with your weight but did joke about at times you didn’t like.

“Aw? I’ve eaten plenty of pussy and I think I’ll love yours the best, don’t you think?” Rhaenyra asked. She tilted her head, yet dropped some of the cockiness as she saw your panic again. “Was that too much? Want me to drop the dirty talk?”

You shook your head. You loved it. But will Rhaenyra love your body? Sure, she was plus sized too but you knew how people were. Some Black guys you liked and knew had issues with Black women, darker ones especially and the fat ones too. It was cruel and you couldn’t help but think Rhaenyra wouldn’t like what she saw underneath. Once the pants and panties came off and she saw how your legs looked. Would she still want you.

“Y/N? Talk to me?” Rhaenyra said. Her lilac eyes were still attentive as they were.

“Will the dirty talk stay once you see me?” you wondered. “Once you see me, I-I won’t be too big for you, will I? You’ll still want me?”

Rhaenyra’s eyes softened; her hands left your thighs, cupped your face before she leaned in to plant a deep kiss to your forehead then a few to your jaw and a tiny, but passionate one to your mouth.

“Of course. I love all of you,” she cooed with more kisses to your face. “I’ll take care of you and go at your pace. I promise, what ever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

You laughed at the kisses, a barrage of them that made you flush with enough love you could have combusted then and there. Rhaenyra was a safe space, safe enough that you wanted this, wanting fully to let her show you how much the love fueled her in whatever you both wanted to do. You didn’t know what this was. What you were both doing but it felt right. It felt amazing.

“So, babygirl? Can I try my best to make you feel great?” Rhaenyra said, her voice deeper now and ready to put the skills she claimed Daemon lacked to good use.

You nodded, whispered a yes and that’s all it took for the fire to drive Rhaenyra: her hands slid under your thighs as she picked you up and flipped you so that she straddled you now. Her lips worked more heat on you, attacking your neck and chest before she tugged at the end of your hoodie.

“Can I take this off?”

A nod. She took it off, then attached her lips back to your own. Her tongue slipped in, eating a moan that drove from you while her hands cupped and played with your breasts. She hummed at the feeling as she pinched and played with the clothed nipple.

“No bra? What a naughty girl,” Rhaenyra purred.

You spoke through pants as she moved down your neck and devolved a few more fresh hickies.

“I wore a big enough hood and it was--Nyra!”

Your hips bucked as she squeezed both breasts then twirled the nipples with delicate hands.

“Mmmh, I could stay here all night but that won’t be much fun, would it?” she said.

Rhaenyra lifted herself from her straddled position on your lap, lowered herself to the floor all while slotting a hand between your thighs and pulling against the elastic of your sweats. Your pussy throbbed at her new position: lilac eyes staring straight up at you with so much yearning you could have came then and there; her hair already seemed fucked out, strands wavy and sprawled all over her face.

She pulled your sweats down slow. The air that hit your bare legs and your core underneath your sweats made you squirm. Rhaenyra beamed. Her attention never left you as she kissed at your inner thighs, squeezing at the plush areas and ghosting fainting kisses near your core. You whined at how close she was. All she needed to do was pull the last piece of fabric away and there you would be. There she would be.

“Fuck, you’re wet. There’s this little damp spot right, here,” she whispered. She leaned in to take a tiny kitten lick to the area, right at the spot you needed her most.

“Rhaenyra, p-please just--fuck!”

She fingered you a bit through your pants with a smile deepening as her fingers worked.

“If you want me to fuck you all you have to do is tell me,” Rhaenyra said. “Go on. I want my dessert, babygirl.”

She growled. Her hands dug into your thighs as you tired to get your words together, your head grew misty.

“Please, just eat me out already!”

Rhaenyra chuckled, pressed a kiss to your waist and gripped the waistband of your underwear with her index finger and thumb.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She peeled them off and groaned at the sight of you; your pussy was soaked thanks to the foreplay you both dabbled in. Rhaenyra felt a surge of pride rush through her, yet she restrained herself enough to gently push a finger against your center. She gauged your reactions: a few whimpers escaped you and your thighs couldn’t keep still as you added a second finger.

“Nyra, ah! Y-Your fingers feel so good!”

Rhaenyra smirked and placed a soft kiss to your clit.

“Do they? I think you’re ready for my mouth, what about you?”

You looked to answer but you were cut off with another moan as Rhaenyra curled both of her fingers. Your walls stretched around her, warm and tight to the touch. You didn’t know how long you would last.

“Nyra, now. Please, I might come soon.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened but she nodded and finally dove into your succulent sweetness. She started off slow. Licks slow and gradual with a few quirks of her fingers. You bucked a little, hips rose a bit but Rhaenyra held them down as the kitten licks turned ravenous. Her lips popped and sucked at your precious pearl, forcing you to slam your head against the sofa cushions and take a tight grip to her silver locks.

“Rhaenyra, shit!” you groaned. “I-I feel it!”

By it, you meant the tightness of your lower belly. The heat, the good kind that moved and jerked right above where Rhaenyra worked: where she sucked, prodded and fingered you.

“Mmmh, go ahead, love!” she moaned around your heat. “I-I’ll be right behind you!”

She pulled one of her hands away from your quivering thighs, dug it down her own sweats. You couldn’t see, but by how wild her hands moved and the jerk of her own hips, it was easy to know. Her actions and the moans that vibrated up to your pussy built up and up until your orgasm stumbled through. Both you and Rhaenyra came at the same time--your names coming from your lips like a prayer.

You slumped against the couch to catch your breath; Rhaenyra climbed back up the sofa and next to you. She kissed your cheek and forehead, gasped once you brought her lips to your own. You didn’t care, you loved her and you tasted divine.

“So?” she said as she pulled back from the kiss. “Was I better than Daemon?”

Of course she was still conceited after giving you one of the best orgasms you ever had. You playfully slapped her chest and straddled her.

“If you give me another orgasm like that, maybe I’ll admit it,” you teased back.

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x fem reader #rhaenyra x reader #black reader #plus sized reader #plus sized rhaenyra #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #hotd modern au #hotd smut #chubby reader #rhaenyra smut

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alpinelogy · 5 months ago

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It has been brought to my attention that my name has apparently been dragged through the mud on this blog :<

Okay, first of all Erika Alpinology I am not a gax propaganda spreader I am a gax appreciator I am too busy getting my ass beat by writers block to be a gax propaganda spreader 😭

And second of all

Rae what sordid accusations are you bringing up here—

First off all you quite often talk about gax on pgr vc meaning that intentionally or otherwise, you are a gax propaganda spreader

Second of all; caught in 4K

Case closed

P.S.: you’re starting the beef, you’re not allowed to bo beef later me like this. Also who made you aware of these posts was it synth is he breaking out wonderful peace and harmony we have going on?

#ask #rae tag #help I saw this right after I woke up and took me a hot sec to realize it was you cause i don’t remember your main lol

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purpleyoonn · 1 year ago

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HATER ANON— ur such a lewser like oh brother this guy stinks🥱👎🏽👎🏽👎🏽COME OUT SO I CAN BEAT UR ASS😕,,, ppl are getting too comfortable disrespecting writers who are literally giving us free excellent content that saves some ppl’s lives u could not write at all or charge us but u share ur gift with us out of kindness of ur heart💜,, that anon needs to learn some respect, u take all the time u need, u go thru sm u don’t even have to tell us about for them to basically accuse u of lying is crazy like what why would u lie about these things???,, & u owe us nothing u can update whenever u want u can stop updating tomorrow who are they to order u around….idk Wut’s up with these entitled brats😕and then to do it on anonymous u can’t even have dignity to show ur true self how cowardly of them like if ur gonna be a hater at least show ur identity and be up front with it, like honestly that could be someone who says nice things non anonymously but when they’re feeling like a hater they turn to anon like a coward and take out their hating tendencies —cuz they kno they’re wrong and deep down are ashamed and they kno they will be blocked or receive backlash…the mysteries of anonymous messaging can be so scary like there could be a whole dark side to ppl we believe are the nicest in the world…. It’s insane because if they saw u irl they would not say anything of the sort such cowards😭😰

(im usually a silent reader but I had to say something cuz that anon just irked me like omg ur so sweet why are ppl so mean and entitled, you just ignore that hag and live ur life girlie‼️‼️💜) (I’m not rlly violent I just said that more as just a saying and out of frustration😭) (also sorry this was so long and very all over the place and ranty just,, u have my and other readers’ support💜)

yeah at this point like it just irks me, ya know? I mean I’ve gotten some comments about posting more chapters and stuff but this seems like such a backhanded way to go about it. anon just wanted some attention maybe? Idk.

the lying part is what bothers me the most. Like I know I share stuff on here but nowhere near as much as other writers. Like should I stop? Should I just not post anything about me from now on? Idk it just makes me second guess what I post on here now.

I’m not gonna stop posting but damn, that’s the kind of anon ask I was up to sometimes. It’s ridiculous.

And thank you! The anon seemed to think I was an attention seeker but their message seemed to do the opposite of what they wanted. I’ve gotten so many lovely messages from you guys that I feel so loved ❤️❤️

#purpleyoonn #purpleyoonn ask

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kitkatopinions · 3 years ago

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I think a big difference between your average RWDE poster and your average RWBY defender/Toxic RWBY fan (not casual or even regular fans,) is that if someone asks a RWDE poster to name ten things they love about RWBY, they could probably do it in a heart beat. They could probably name twenty, or fifty. Heck, I could drop one hundred things that I really, really love about RWBY. But if someone were to ask a RWBY defender/toxic RWBY fan to name ten things they don’t like about RWBY... They might venomously refuse ("You’re trying to make me stoop to your level, HTDM, you’re trying to make me hate this show too!") Or they might be legitimately scared to post any criticism ("Okay guys, please please don’t hate me - and I might be totally wrong - but it’s possible that maybe MKEK didn’t think through just this one little moment, but I love it regardless!") Or they might post their ‘ten things they don’t like in RWBY,’ but make all their complaints incredibly small, exclusively personal things ("I just don’t really like slow songs, so despite the fact that I love the music in RWBY and this song is Fantastic, I just don’t really like it myself, but that’s just an opinion!") And I can imagine them getting comments anyway ‘explaining’ why they’re wrong even about some of the very small criticisms, and them replying about how they didn’t think about it and it’s totally true and it isn’t actually something bad.

RWBY defenders / megafans / toxic RWBY fans aren’t regular RWBY fans, they take all criticism personally and can’t let even small things or even personal, subjective opinions go by without getting angry (as evidenced by just how many people were furious about Nitpick November and many of the very small criticisms that fans were making.) Toxic RWBY fans will straight up deny the things that the writers say they do or have done and get furious when RWBY critics say the writers said it. They will invent headcanons in order to try to make everything in RWBY make perfect sense and then scream at and get angry at RWDE posters for not knowing about or believing in these headcanons - even if they directly go against canon (recently a RWBY defender said that James Ironwood ran away from the Battle of Beacon instead of staying to fight.) They’ll accuse anyone who criticizes RWBY of being a hateful bigot trying to ruin the show even if said RWBY poster was extremely generous towards the show or go out of their way to try make sure they don't interact with the fndm. They insist that there’s nothing wrong with some critique and that they know RWBY isn’t perfect and has flaws, but if you so much as say that you personally don’t like Ruby’s new outfit, you have every chance of getting them in your comments to tell you that you’re stupid for not understanding that Ruby getting older meant she had to ditch her tulle skirt and that her wearing more red signifies that she’s brighter and better than ever and that her new hair represents her connection to Qrow.

Most RWBY critics at one point in time loved RWBY despite its many flaws. Most of us do actually at least have a couple things we really like about RWBY even in the newer seasons, even if we actively dislike the show now. Many of us have talked about liking songs, arcs, moments, dynamics, concepts, etc. Most of us love or loved so many of the characters in the show. We could name tons of stuff that we love about RWBY. I could name a hundred things I still love about it, maybe more. And there are some RWDE posters or RWBY critics who insist that the show never had anything good about it, but those people either don’t post very much at all or I blocked them forever ago, and most of the RWBY critics in the RWDE tag aren’t like that. But with these toxic RWBY stans, it’s like they’ll fight anyone on anything, because any criticism of the show is inherently wrong to them unless it’s peppered with compliments too and said in the softest, nicest, most ‘I could be wrong’ way possible.

#rwde #anti rwby #rwby hate #rwby criticism #rwby bashing #anti fndm #anti crwby

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 4 years ago

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Please Don't Say Goodbye | Tsukishima Kei/Reader

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei/Reader

Warnings: light swearing, crying, implied panic attacks, arguments, yelling, ummm lemme know if I missed anything

Word Count: 2181

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble- okay, in my defence, I've had such writers block and apparently the feels were necessary soooo. This is 1 of 2 fic ideas that were sent to me by @satan-ruler-of-hells for a prompt thing I did (idk if I can find the thing) and the next one is Tendou. So, maybe get ready for more feels of my almost 5 am angst. I also did not proof-read this, sooooo

--------

How had things ended up like this?

Every little thing was like the calm before the storm - the most tense calm that had ever existed; you were walking on eggshells, and maybe so was he, but you couldn’t help it. At least, you thought you couldn’t. Each attempt to try and fix the mess around you only ended up in more heartbreak.

The storm that always seemed to be headed in your direction had tore apart the home you’d meticulously built together. Plates and picture frames shattered to the ground; glass leaving you walking on bleeding feet. The flowers of your love torn apart somewhere in the distance now. Breath stolen from your lungs, but not from those kisses he’d give you back in high school, not from the way he’d dance with you around his bedroom (only to shove you onto the bed when his brother barged in), not from your outrageous laughter at something stupid that had happened. This was a breath stolen from countless nights arguing, screaming, trying to gain the upper hand in a situation where you were both at a standstill. A breath stolen from your heaving words as you scrunch your hands into your roots, pull your legs close to your chest and shove yourself into a corner while he slammed the door and left to God knows where. Breath stolen from the realization that maybe things just weren’t working like they used to, and that it was okay to love him, but to not be in love with him.

Tonight was just another picture perfect example of why you weren’t meant to be together. You’d come home late from work (because of some stupid assignment that you just wanted to finish today). He was sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix for something to watch. Honestly, you just wanted to eat something, so you didn’t bother greeting him, but the moment he noticed your presence in the house, he was hot on your tail.

“Where were you?” His voice sharp as daggers, digging under your skin and tearing you apart piece by piece. His arms are crossed over his chest, eyes so judgmental you feel like you’re in court. Nothing you say is the right answer, so you choose to not say anything. Apparently, that wasn’t the right answer either - this you find out when his iron grip settles on your shoulder and forces you to turn around.

“Hey-” you winced, trying to pry his fingers off.

“Where were you?” He repeated, basically growling at you through his gritted teeth.

“I was at work.” You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back towards the fridge, trying to ease the beating of your heart. In, hold, out. You repeat to yourself, barely remembering what all those instagram therapists had told you.

He scoffed, finally releasing his grip in favor of slamming the fridge door shut, “really? Because the last time I checked, your work ended two hours ago. What could you possibly have been doing for two whole hours?” He was in your face now, making you know how pissed he was.

But you already knew. You’d always known. Why did he need to try and make it so blindingly obvious to you?

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Kei, I was working. What part of that is so hard to understand?” You snapped back, moving away from him with a heavy sigh. At this point, you didn’t bother holding back the venom in your words. You knew he had issues (and you knew why) but did that mean he should take it out on you? No. Fuck.

“Two hours! Y/N, I was waiting two hours. I was going to take us to dinner, we were going to have a nice time.” He followed after you, closing every cupboard door you opened, trying to get your attention. “But you didn’t even send me a text. Were you too busy fuck-”

“Oh my God!” You yelled over him, spinning around to face him with your pure unfiltered aggression.

Back and forth you went for what felt like hours. Tears were acid down your cheeks, your spit a very special concoction of venom just for him. And yet, even as you were dry heaving in the kitchen sink, yelling more obscenities at him, you could never seem to stop. Neither could he.

Tsukishima Kei was known for a lot of things, being an asshole was one of them. That you knew too well.

For a while, though, things were good. He loved you. You loved him.

As he sits there, accusing you over and over of cheating on him, even though you hadn’t and you wouldn’t. God.

When had he become so anxious and persistent that things were going wrong? Yes, they were going wrong, but not for the reasons he keeps saying. It’s driving you insane, to the point where you can’t even remember those stupid breathing techniques, or grounding techniques, or anything.

This argument had lost the plot at some point around when he started yelling at you for doing the dishes wrong (you still insisted there wasn’t a wrong way to do them). So you bit back that his clothes were stupid, or that dinosaurs were stupid, something. Something was stupid.

“If you have so many problems with the way I choose to live my life, then get the fuck out.” You screamed, slamming your fists down onto the table and pointing to the door. His expression was scrunched up into something completely unrecognizable - a fine mixture of hatred and anguish. His chest rising and falling so rapidly you’re amazing he’s still standing. His hair is a complete and utter mess, so many times he’d ran his hand through it to try and make sense of the nonsense you were both spouting.

“Fine, I will!” He yelled back, voice hoarse from the past two hours.

You watched him head towards the door without a second thought, grabbing his coat, shoving his shoes on. You didn’t have the energy to call out after him, no matter how much your heart begged you to.

And your heart did beg you to; but it had already accepted that the end had been coming for too long.

You lean back against one of the cupboards, looking up at that one crack in the ceiling that he’d insisted he’d get around to fixing but something had always come up.

If you had to say what was wrong in your relationship, it would just be something. Something was wrong, and neither of you knew what it was, but something would be your downfall. Something filled the air with poison and made you destined to hate each other; something danced around in your words and twisted the meaning; something caressed your cheek as tears fell.

Something was your downfall and you didn’t have the energy to fight it.

So, maybe you’d call in sick the next day, and your boss would believe you because your voice sounded like hell; and maybe you’d spend the entire day lying in bed despite the fact your stomach was beginning for some nutrients; and maybe it would feel good to not have that nagging voice that you shouldn’t sleep in all day.

But today would have felt nicer with him by your side.

If there was one thing Tsukishima Kei was good at (after a lot of practice), it was making you feel just a little bit better with his empty promises and sweet nothings.

So, maybe you’d dressed yourself in his shirt and breath in him; and maybe you’d grab that dinosaur plushie you’d bought him for his birthday so many years ago and pull it to your chest; maybe you’d sleep on his side of the bed even though his pillow wasn’t as fluffy as yours; and maybe, just maybe, you watched his favourite movie on repeat, hoping it would bring him back to you.

Those were all maybe’s. But maybe they did happen, and you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms and tease him for his glasses that he insisted were cool. Or to have him laugh at you for the fact you majored in literature, despite the fact you weren’t good with words.

When your phone rang, you didn’t hesitate in picking it up, almost too excited for his voice, “Kei-”

“Y/N…” Yamaguchi’s voice was soft, understanding. It killed your fire of excitement in an instant.

You listened to him talk, something about how Tsukishima had decided you needed a break and would be staying at his place for a little while. Something about how he still loved you, but he didn’t want to keep hurting you like this.

It wasn’t a surprise that you didn’t manage to keep it together and broke out crying all over again, basically screaming and begging for things to be okay. There was no doubt in your mind, if Tsukishima was in the room with Yamaguchi, then he’d heard your cries.

“I’ll be better…” you whimpered, after far too long, “I’ll be nice. A-and… I won’t make fun of his glasses. Or dinosaurs. Please… please, Yamaguchi, please tell him to come home!” You cried out, unsure if you even managed to breathe.

He was silent on the line. You couldn’t take it. The silence, you wanted the noise. You’d prefer the arguing over this.

“I’m sorry…” Yamaguchi said weakly, and you knew how much it was hurting him to say this.

He hung up the phone and you were left as a shell of yourself.

And yet, your life must go on. So, for two months, you pushed your problems to the side and kept dredging forward in the hope that the answer to your problems was in one of these articles. Hoping that your co-worker would tell you some shitty anecdote that would distract you for just a little while.

Yo couldn’t look at your apartment anymore, not as little pieces of him were still littered everywhere.

Only, one day, you came home and he wasn’t anywhere. You didn’t notice it, not at first, but then you saw his mug from your museum visit in his third year of high school wasn’t next to your matching one. And then neither were his books on the shelf in your living room, or under the coffee table. His clothes gone from the closet. Every inch. Every detail. Every bit of him you had left had disappeared in the span of one work day.

And you were left with nothing.

With as much energy as you could muster, you turned and ran in the general direction of Yamaguchi’s house (which was hopeless, considering you had the directional capability of a broken compass and the stamina of a dead horse). You really were hopeless as you dialed his number, ignoring the way the moon taunted you in the sky.

He answered, for whatever reason, and you let out a breath. “What is it?” His tone was even, but something told you he was barely holding it together.

“Is this it?” Was all you could say. Head dizzy as you looked for Yamaguchi’s house - which you just knew was somewhere around here.

“It’s been it for a long time.” He really sounded robotic, like he was reading from a script.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Your voice broke as you ran, ignoring the splintering pain in the balls of your feet, “you thought making Yamaguchi say you needed a break, and then disappearing for two months, and then only reappearing to take your things back was the answer?” You cried out.

“You know-” his voice cracked and he stopped speaking. God, it hurt you so much.

“I never wanted this.” Tears were pouring down your cheeks.

“You think I did?”

“No-”

“I tried, Y/N, I tried so hard. But you would never listen to me!”

“I tried too, Kei!” You tried not to yell, and you hoped that it worked.

Some miracle brought you to Yamaguchi’s door, the one you only recognized because of the little frog statue on the windowsill. You pressed the doorbell, hoping for the best.

“I tried because I loved you. And I waited for you, I waited and hoped you’d come back. I-” you ran your hands through your hair once again. “I know we aren’t the best, that something is always wrong, but we can work on this. We can… fuck, I don’t know. You were the smart one…” he let out a low chuckle laced with pain. “But we can work something out, can’t we?”

There was a pause, and Yamaguchi opened the door, shocked to see you. Your breath hitched but neither of you spoke.

“I… I can’t do this anymore…” he admitted, and you felt your heart shatter. “Y/N, this is it…”

You could see Tsukishima pacing in the living room just down the hall, and you know Yamaguchi knows you’ve seen him. His phone pulled away from his face, finger shaking over that familiar red button.

“Please don’t say goodbye…” you called out.

--------

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cotccotc · 4 years ago

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🎧 heartbeats per minute ┆ scb

genre/s: producer!changbin x gn reader, angst, exes au

wc: 1.1k

warning/s: mentions of drug addiction (not within the context of the plot, but in a metaphor)

a/n: written for @districtninewriters writers’ room prompt !! the prompt this week was headphones so for some reason my mind said Producer!Changbin Angst :D kdsj enjoy !!!

headphones.

a beat-up pair of black leather headphones, worn from continual use. audio-technica. changbin hated them, but he refused to purchase a new pair. they were sentimental to him. special.

just like you.

when he moved in, he assembled his makeshift studio in the corner of your shared bedroom. it was a petite setup, equipped only with the essentials. a small desk he’d found at a garage sale, a twin set of speakers placed on either corner, an off-brand computer monitor connected to a macintosh harddrive, and a piano keyboard with eight drum pads. each pad had a sticker on it. he always used the same pads for certain sounds, and he kept track of each of them with a sticker so he wouldn’t forget. he never has. but they’re there just in case. he’d use the top left pad for hi-hats, the middle two for toms, the top right for snares, the bottom left for cymbals, the one beside it for sub basses, and the other two for miscellaneous sounds. you never had a clue as to what any of it meant. he’d tried to explain it to you a few times. but each time he did, you got distracted by the manner with which he spoke. he was always so passionate. he was one of those types of geeks who could go on about something for hours with the partial intention to teach, but sidetracked by the additive thrill of describing his passion. he knew you didn’t care about the technical things. he knew that all you cared about was him. he never did thank you for letting him talk too much.

figures.

he hated those headphones. the way they’d weathered on the outsides; the wire he’d have to snake around the desk in order to reach his speakers. it always seemed to be about an inch too short. it was all so unnerving for him. and yet, he wouldn’t budge. they simply worked too perfectly. you’d even offered to buy him a new, identical pair for your one year anniversary. but he insisted on keeping them. you understood why. but if something is broken, you always thought, why keep it? why let the sorry things get more cracked and torn when you could always get a new one? he believed that good headphones were hard to come by. he’d had a few other pairs in his life, but none of them seemed to work as well as these. hell, he even produced his first mixtape with them.

there was a song about you on there. he never told you. but you knew.

another key component of his studio setup was his microphone. he loved that thing. bought it off of a friend for half of its original cost. he always joked about how he’d “conned” the guy. but you just thought it was a friendly gesture. just like all the little things you’d do for him that went seemingly unnoticed. like when you cleared the dust off the tops of his speakers. sometimes, you left post-it notes on his desk after slipping out of bed to leave for work. he was always so tired. regardless of their physical condition and emotional implication, you owed it to those headphones for allowing you to get a good night’s sleep despite his owl-like rest schedule. “i’m proud of you,” the notes would often say. or “love you,” maybe. sometimes it was just a few hearts. and when you’d come home, they’d be gone. sometimes, so would he. you figured he simply read them, chuckled, and used them to write down spur-of-the-moment lyrics before crumpling them up and throwing them in the trash can he stored below his desk.

he collected them. every last one. but you never knew that.

other times, he’d be working when you came home. usually, that was a good thing. but not when he was having writer’s block. you could always tell. he’d be quieter at first… more somber. he wouldn’t turn around when you kissed him on the cheek, explaining the day you’d had and changing out of your work clothes. maybe he’d provide some commentary. it was unlikely, though. eventually, you’d become so fed up that you’d exit the room, slamming the door shut. and every single time, you cursed yourself for having such a small apartment. if only it was bigger, you thought, we could get along. it was a comforting ideology for a while. a placeholder for a much bigger, much more conclusive way of thinking. that would come later. too late, you realize now. whenever you finally decided on what to get delivered for dinner, he’d be grumpy. less quiet, more passive aggressive. from the other end of your small kitchen table, he’d scarf down his meal - chinese food, a burger and fries, microwavable ramen, what have you - with an occasional “could you pass the sauce” or “napkin?” and trudge back into the bedroom.

a few times, you’d wait until you knew he was situated before you sneakily turned the doorknob, peering in to watch him work. he couldn’t hear you. another subtle virtue of the headphones. every so often, he would groan to himself out of dissatisfaction. you hated seeing him like this. it’s as if the longer he stayed locked up in that room, the more suffocating it became on his creative spirit. and yet, if he ever felt your presence or had even an inkling of suspicion that he was being watched, he’d turn around, rip off the device, and accuse you of being nosy.

you sold him the headphones. it was your first day working at the tech store downtown, as well as your first time meeting changbin. he was charming. sarcastic, almost. much less sullen and apathetic than he was when he left you. now, all you can do is stare at the set as it sits in its original packaging, collecting dust upon the bedside table. he left them here. neatly placed back in their original packaging. yours to keep. how generous of him.

it’s been a month. he’s got a new pair now. undoubtedly so. how else could he survive from day to day without a constant auditory stimulant pulsing through him? it’s as if he was a drug addict. you always came second to sonic substance. but you bet he’s got a new dealer now. you often wonder where he might’ve purchased them or what brand they might be. maybe the cashier who sold them to him was nice. or, better yet, maybe they were ugly.

you love these headphones. no matter how worn they’ve become. you understand them, and they understand you.

tattered, expendable, alone.

tags: @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @pixielix, @kisskissbanggang, @mr-jisung-main, @childofthecosmos, @changnuggie, @kpopscape, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @sunshine-skz, @vera-liscious, @moonlit-lixie, @thatrandomoneinthecorner ( join my tag list !! )

#districtninewriters #inkidz #skzwritersclub #straykidsland #angstyskzclub #stayracha #seochangbinet #*fics #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz #stray kids #changbin imagines #seo changbin imagines #changbin angst #seo changbin angst #skz angst #stray kids angst

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rieson · 4 years ago

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↱ COMPETITION ! ↲

pairing; gojo satoru ✗ gn!reader

genre; humor

content warning; strong languange, brief mention of violence.

word count; 1,123

authors note; ah, i hate how you can tell I only made this to get out of my writer's block ^^;; sorry it's a bit shit, trying to gain motivation lately </3 i also hereby apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, made this in minutes. prompt can be found here

─ you've been rivals with gojo for as long as you can remember, you can't help but feel ticked off whenever he disturbs your fights.

"when the hell did you get here!?"

“i got bored of waiting around for you to kill me so I wanted to see what you were doing.”

IT'S BEEN awhile since you’ve been feeling the very same adrenaline rush you always felt when fighting curses back in your highschool days ─ the thought of being reminded of your highschool days sent shivers down your spine; it wasn't like something bad happened to you back then, (besides the whole getou choosing another path, you merely chose to forget about it, although it is inevitable) it was just because a face of a gifted white haired sorcerer keeps appearing in your mind whenever you reminisce about your highschool days, and mind you, you hated every fiber of him; which he finds amusing, which just makes you feel more ticked off then ever whenever he tries to strike up a conversation with you.

“Oiii ! Are you even listening to me?!” The snow haired teenager accused a pointing finger at the stoic-faced [Name] ─ in which they only offered the white haired teenager an incredulous look before shoving his finger away harshly in return; imaginary tick marks appearing on the teenager’s forehead.

“Gojo, please just shut up. I’m trying to think of a plan here.” The [hair colour] haired teenager barked as they pinched the bridge of their nose, already feeling a headache coming.

The mentioned ‘Gojo’ let out an exaggerated gasp, “N─No way ! [Name]─ THE [Name] actually thinking for once!?” he lets both of his hands cups his face, as if to emphasize his shock more.

[Name] clenched their hands to fists, resisting the urge to just punch the white haired sorcerer right here and right now.

“Wow! I never thought i’d─”

“AS IF YOU’RE ANY BETTER WITH JUST HEADING HEAD FIRST TO PROBLEMS WITHOUT THINKING OF A PLAN YOU DICKHEA!─” You jumped at the so called ‘strongest sorcerer’ letting out your cursed technique unconsciously.

“Hey ! Atleast i manage to actually finish them ! Unlike yo- AAAH!!” The tall sorcerer screeched as [Name] managed to get by his limitless barrier.

You smirked at the memories, when you first fought with him and managed to land a critical hit on him one or two times; he really thought he was the best til you came in the picture; it didn't take long before he unofficially declared you as his ‘rival’, leading to a lot of childish and unnecessary competitions just to see who could do it best.

Your relationship with the sorcerer was questionable, one moment you both could be just chilling beside each other and then a second later the both of you could be going for each other’s throats.

(Un)fortunately, when you graduated, you got moved to the Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College to become a Teacher instead, as the higher-ups requested; you didn't want to agree to it but it did give you freedom from Gojo Satoru, so you grudgingly agreed.

You still competed with the now Strongest Sorcerer, just not as often; since you chose to focus on teaching your students on how to be stronger instead.

This leads on to him texting you on random occasions, asking bribing you to meet up with him and have a match or two; of course, you always agreed ─ You do need to stretch your muscles every once in awhile.

Today was one of those days, the days where he randomly messages you at 5 AM asking if you wanted to spar, like mentioned, you agreed and were on your way til a bunch of special grade curses decided to ambush you.

You muttered profanities under your breath as you stealthily dodged an incoming attack and crushed another curse’s head that tried to sneak up on you.

It seems like there was another curse popping out everytime you defeated one, it's a never-ending cycle.

‘Where the hell did they all come from!?’ Your train of thoughts was disrupted as you felt a familiar cursed energy ─ His cursed energy; you can tell it from miles away, somehow, Gojo’s cursed energy always stuck out like a sore thumb whenever he releases it.

And before you knew it, All the curses that had been surrounding you was gone and smoke filled your vision, you coughed, covering your mouth and nose so you dont inhale the smoke.

A familiar 6’3 figure appeared once the smoke started to disappear slowly, him walking towards you in a childish manner ─ skipping in his steps.

“When the hell did you get here?!” You questioned the blindfolded man, who merely gave a shrug in response before answering;

“I got bored of waiting around for you to kill me so i wanted to see what you were doing.” He sent you a smug grin, a grin that only you knew that translated to a ‘HA, Beat you!’

You huffed through your nose, patting your clothes to get rid of dusts, “I didnt need your help, i was doing fine.”

“Oh really? You looked like you were─” His words cut off abruptly as you sent him a glare, making him motion something that looks like he’s zipping his mouth before throwing the imaginary zipper away.

You narrowed your eyes at him, eyeing the keys he held on his left arm suspiciously as he fake coughed, “Hoora Horaa, you look and smell bad, i brought extra clothes for you to change into and then we can go to that one cafe thats been popular now adays! I heard they selled good─” You abruptly cut him off as soon as you saw sparkles and flowers float around him.

“I came here to spar─”

“Chocolate cakes.” He grinned at you cheekily as he held out his palms out for you, waving it in front of your face.

You stare at him, he stares back; his smile not faltering a tiny bit before you decide to give in.

“...I’m sold”

“Nice ! Its a date then, here, go change now!~” He threw a bag with your extra clothes inside, leaving you to clumsily catch it before it falls.

“HUH!? I NEVER AGREED TO THA─”

“Hurry up ! Dont stall me for any longer than you have!~ Or else I'm gonna drive away without youu!~" He sing-songed.

You quirk an eyebrow, "I thought you didn't know how to drive?─"

"Let's not talk about that, now Shoo shoo, go change!"

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk meme #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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vickyvicarious · 5 years ago

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So having just finished watching The Bank Shot Job, I have realized another thing I adore about Hardison.

His confidence.

And not just in his computer skills. Those are obviously well-founded and given his reputation it makes total sense he'd be cocky and overconfident about them. Except it isn't overconfidence, is it, when he always backs it up.

No, what struck me here was his confidence with people. He isn't a grifter like Sophie, he isn't an especially great actor. He says ridiculous stuff like "we just got back from handling a chupacabra situation" and overacts his emotions to the point of comedy. His characters aren't necessarily very nuanced. But he gets away with it, every time, and why? Because he is so confident in himself, he railroads right over the logical part of people's brains going "....wait a minute."

One of my favorite early scenes from the Mile High Job is when Hardison enters the elevator as a janitor, blatantly blocks the other guy from coming in, changes clothes on the way up, and then accuses the guy of being racist so he doesn't catch on to Hardison being the same guy. He SAW his face, he KNEW it was the same person. Hardison raised a fuss, talked quickly and over top of him, then got out while he was still reeling.

And even that guy, by the end of the episode, didn't question that Hardison worked in the building for a while before this. He gets people so caught up in his pace that they just go along with him, and that is carried purely by his confidence.

We see it with the whole crew to some extent, of course. While Parker is the one most obviously worried about grifting, everyone has their own moments when they hesitate. Still they all have confidence and plow through to achieve their objective - but none with Hardison's flair. He never just takes up space, he owns it.

And part of it is simply the fact that he is such a genius. He knows it, and uses it, and his skill, intelligence, and creative mind help him through everything. But it would be so so easy to go the route of having the genius hacker be socially awkward or have confidence issues when compared to someone like Eliot. And Hardison just never does.

He proudly proclaims "age of the geek, baby," gets annoyed at Eliot mocking the geek stereotypes. He likes all the typical geeky stuff (scifi, WoW, Doctor Who have been specifically namedropped already) and isn't as comfortable in a physical altercation. There are other things that make him feel out of his depths too, on occasion. But that doesn't seem to bother him on any deep level, he doesn't feel lessened by it. Someone's gotta beat up the injured guy and he's fine with it being him, he says. And he isn't actually a skinny weakling, just not well versed in fighting.

Just as Eliot subverts the gruff manly tropes with his interest in cooking and his respect for the women he's slept with, or Sophie with the femme fatale being the mother figure, Hardison subverts the socially awkward genius and the hacker uncomfortable outside of their computers. He dislikes when the option to solve things with hacking is taken away from him, sure, but the same goes for everyone else on the team with their respective skills and they all face situations where they have to adapt.

The writers made a very deliberate choice to make Hardison, not just NOT awkward, but very comfortable with people. He has fun with his cons, throwing in silly and ridiculous details for his own amusement, grinning at people, befriending them easily. They write him being taught how to get along with people into his backstory, and it's not just to contrast with Parker or support her learning how to connect with others though that is a part of it. I'm sure meta on his emotional intelligence and his relationship with her has been written, most notably the "pretzels are waiting for you whenever you want them" scene, and that all holds true.

Hardison is a genius. He's pretty young, which could also play into this usually, the overconfidence of youth (except he never faces a harsh lesson and loses that confidence, not really - gets less brash maybe, more technique, but doesn't lose that base layer of confidence). He is skilled with computers, but he is also well-rounded. Not just in the 'exposition-dropping because I'm smart and I know a lot of stuff' way, though that too. He is an artist, a musician, he likes to learn and likes to create and likes to share his work with people. He is not at all a loner, and flashbacks show that even if he didn't always have close friends he wasn't an introvert.

He knows his talents (and they are many) and believes in himself so much, and it's so clearly not some act covering deep insecurities, that whenever he does hesitate or doubt himself the scene instantly gains so much more weight. It doesn't happen often; it doesn't need to. (Not in any major way, not more than the usual moments of uncertainty the entire crew has on occasion.) But when he does really doubt himself, we really do feel it - and then the others reassure him because he always comes through, and then he does just that. Because it isn't false confidence at all, just honest skill at the end of the day.

After he shows Sophie the edited footage of the bank robbery in this episode (done on the fly, out in the open, while ordering around the cops), she teasingly tells him, "You're still a geek."

Hardison just grins and says, "Power of the geek." He knows that is not an insult. Even if someone ever said it to him meaning it as one, he would know they were wrong and wouldn't lose any sleep over it.

Because he knows his own capabilities, trusts in himself, and walks confidently through life.

(And the whole team are so good about supporting one another and, teasing arguments aside, clearly respecting one another's skills. They all are wonderful with this but I especially want to thank Hardison's Nana because she clearly did so much right by him.)

#leverage #rewatch #alec hardison #my meta #watching hardison makes me realize how tired i am of those tropes #i just love seeing that confidence #i love characters who put on a confident front but have insecurities #but this is so so wonderful

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harrysweasleys · 4 years ago

Text

a place for us // d.m

Summary: I’d like to request a Draco x reader please, she’s the plus one to the golden trio & Malfoy actually has a crush on her since 1st year but never tells her even though she comes from a pureblood family too. In the 6th year she’s the first one who noticed how drastically Malfoy has changed and decided to investigate & that’s how she founds him in the room of requirements and they just bonded, Draco really opens up to her and they meet in secret every night plus a kiss in the end maybe? Thank you

Warnings: none

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: dudes i’m so close to 600 followers i love you all. thank you so much for sticking by my work. also so very sorry it’s taking me ages to get around to these requests. writer’s block, ya know? but, enjoy!!!! xoxo

— —

As you watched Draco pick absentmindedly at his quill during Potions, you knew something was wrong. He had been acting off all year. Maybe he wasn’t a fan of Potions now that Slughorn was the Professor, but this didn’t excuse why he had been sulking the entire first month that school had returned.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice caught you out of your trance, causing you to snap your head in his direction with a startled expression. You suddenly became dizzy, needing to blink rapidly to regain control of your head.

“Yeah?” you asked, pretending like you hadn’t just dozed off while staring at Draco for nearly five whole minutes.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “We’re partners for — you weren’t paying attention, were you?” The clear disappointment on his face made you feel awful, but you couldn’t help it. You were intrigued by Draco’s lack of boasting. For five years now, you had spent classes with him where he had spent the entire time bragging about his status and wealth, and now he was just silently sitting at the back of the class, head in his hands and his mind clearly distracted

“I was too,” you snapped back, furrowing your eyebrows and turning to face Ron and Hermione, who were also paired together and beginning to jot down instructions.

“Then,” Harry leaned his elbows on the table and stared you down, “what potion are we making?”

You squinted, trying to think of what you had picked up from the short time you payed attention to Slughorn, “Draught of Living Death?”

Harry groaned, “Lucky guess.”

You grinned, proud of your shot in the dark, and stood up to collect the ingredients, bringing your copy of Advanced Potion Making with you to search the stocked shelves.

As you turned around to go back to your desk, arms filled with ingredients, you nearly crashed into a body.

“Oh, I am so sorry—” you grimaced, wanting to smack yourself over the forehead for being so clumsy. Luckily, you hadn’t dropped any ingredients, but you felt like a fool nonetheless.

Draco smiled softly down at you, “My fault. Didn’t notice your arms were full.” He proceeded to maneuver around you and collect his own ingredients, gently pressing up against your arm as he did so.

You shuddered, choosing not to look back and glance at him before speed walking back to your station, where Harry was preparing the cauldron.

“You alright?” he asked, peering up at you quickly before picking at the ingredients.

You nodded, forcing yourself to continue staring down at the table to avoid looking at the Slytherin boy. Something about him was just incredibly off and despite not really being friends with him, you wanted nothing more than to figure out what was going on in that pale head of his.

When class came to an end, Slughorn deeming yours and Harry’s potion the best one in the class (Hermione scowled at Ron), you waited behind to walk with your friends, who were approaching you slowly after cleaning up their desk.

“Naturally, Ronald,” Hermione scoffed, discreetly rolling her eyes, causing you to chuckle.

“What? I’m just saying!” he argued back, holding his hands up in fake surrender, “If you drank Draught of Living Death as a dead person, you’d return to life! It’s called Living Death. So, of course, Zombie.”

“That’s what was going on in your mind during class?” you couldn’t help the bubbling laughter as the four of you exited the class, turning down the hallway with the crowd, “Charming, really. No wonder Harry and I beat you guys.”

However, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a specific blond head rushing in the opposite direction. It was rather odd, considering your next class — Defence Against the Dark Arts — was also with the Slytherins.

“It’s what’s always going on in my mind, Y/N,” Ron deadpanned, looking over to where you were now staring, “What’re you looking at?

Hermione and Harry had now stopped walking, moving out of the way of the onslaught of students, being careful not to get trampled.

You turned back to face your friends, “I — need to pee, yeah, I need to pee.”

Despite your super unconvincing voice, they nodded at you and Hermione spoke up, “We’ll meet you in Defence class, then.”

“Right, yeah,” you mumbled, waving a quick bye and taking off in the current of students, unfortunately going against the tide as most of them were heading the opposite way.

You cursed yourself for being curious. Dodging students left and right, gripping onto your backpack to avoid having it get knocked off your shoulders, you eventually made your way into the clearing, adjusting your disheveled robes before continuing on.

Looking left and right, you couldn’t find Malfoy anywhere, but you were almost certain he had taken the left corridor. So you did the same. Luckily, you avoided coming in contact with anyone, rushing down and turning the corner.

As you turned, you saw Malfoy’s figure at the end, rounding another corner up ahead. You followed him, keeping your eyes peeled for anything that could give away what he was off to do.

He was by no means a star student, but skipping class wasn’t exactly ‘normal’ for him. In the five years you had known him, you had only noticed him skip class twice and both times were due to Quidditch injuries.

Yes, you had noticed both times he wasn’t there. Not because you wanted him around, but because he usually made his presence very well know, especially around your friends — who he seemed to strongly despise, despite the fact he had never been rude to you.

You continue following him up the stairs and down more empty hallways. You had never seen the school this empty, but that was because you had never decided to take a stroll while you were supposed to be in class.

Finally, after walking for what felt like ten minutes, Draco stopped abruptly and stared at a wall. You ducked, hiding behind a statue, and peered out through the tiny window you had.

He was staring at this blank stone wall, but you knew exactly what it was. You had been there countless times the year before where Harry had held practices for Dumbledore’s Army.

Why Malfoy needed the Room of Requirements was beyond you. He had always managed to get his way with Professor Snape, surely he couldn’t be doing anything proper or good behind those doors.

You watched as he stalked in, careful to double check if anyone was near him before the doors slowly started to vanish.

It was now or never, you thought.

So you bolted.

The doors were barely able to fit you as you squeezed through, the door turning into a wall behind you and disappearing completely. You stayed quiet as you turned around, ready to face a pissed off Malfoy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The Room of Requirements was completely different from how you had seen it last year. Instead of a wide open space with mirrors and books on Defensive spells, it looked like a storage room.

Chairs, books, desks, anything and everything you could think of, were piled up to the ceiling in rows. The dust was unbelievable — your throat was already beginning to tickle after your first breath.

Not only could you not see Draco, but you could barely see anything with the amount of junk that was in this room. He had probably taken off down one of the rows, but which one, you had no clue.

You decided to head down the furthest right, passing old desks and books along the way. The smell of dust and decay got stronger along the way. You had to keep your eyes on your feet to avoid tripping on scattered objects.

Once you passed an old bookcase, you heard quiet muttering. Draco’s head came into view, along with what appeared to be a triangular cabinet. His head was leaned up against it, muttering silently, his shoulders shaking and his arms lying limp at his side.

“Malfoy?” you whispered, suddenly becoming very much aware that he probably didn’t want you following him.

He spun around, eyes wide. It was hard to tell since he was naturally so pale, but his complexion seemed even more ghostly than usual.

“What are you doing here?” his expression changed from shocked to anger, his hands clenching into fists by his sides.

You stammered, trying to find a reasoning that wouldn’t make you come off as a stalker, “Are you okay?”

That wasn’t exactly smooth, but his face seemed to soften. He looked you up and down, visually calming when he noticed your wand wasn’t in your hand, nor did you show any signs of accusing him of anything.

“Is Potter hiding around the corner?” he hardened again, standing stiff and placing his right hand inside his coat as if ready to grab his wand and defend himself any second.

“No, no, he’s not,” you raised your hands, “I’m alone. I just... sorry I followed you in here.”

He slowly removed his hand from his jacket, letting it fall limp at his side once again. Despite Draco being one of the most intimidating and feared students in the school, not once had he ever made you feel out of place. You figured it was probably because you were a pureblood, and your family did have a decent status in the magical world. He would torment your friends, calling Harry awful names — even going as far as calling Hermione a mudblood.

You should hate him. Everything about what he had done screamed awful, rude, bully, dangerous, but he had always been kinder to you, softer even. And somehow, deep within your heart, you knew you couldn’t hate him.

It was annoying, really. Every time he and Harry were in the same room, tensions would go through the roof. Draco would spit insults at your friend, but turn to you and greet you or bid you a good day like a normal person.

Ron would often rant about their disastrous encounters with him in the common room after everyone was asleep, and you’d sit quietly and offer no input.

One of the moments you realized Draco was nowhere near as bad as he seemed was during the Triwizard Tournament. When Harry was under water — Hermione and Ron having gone missing as well — the notorious Draco Malfoy had comforted you. Had told you everything would be alright. That your friends would be safe.

Really, there was no way you could hate him after that.

“Why did you follow me?” he asked, eyes darting to the ground to avoid eye contact. You were honestly surprised he wasn’t angrier. He had always had a short fuse around most people.

You took a deep breath, unsure of how to word it, “I was, uh, worried.”

His eyes snapped up to you and he scoffed, “You? Worried about me? Right.”

“I am,” you pressed on, “You’re not okay. I can tell. I just thought I’d try and find out what was wrong so I could... help, I guess.”

It wasn’t a lie, per se. You did want to figure out what was wrong, but you weren’t sure how you could be of any help to him.

“Well, thanks, but I don’t need your help,” his voice had more of an edge now, clearly a sign he was becoming fed up with your presence. Maybe it was a mistake following him.

“How do you know? Maybe it’s something I can relate to. We both have a lot of pressure, being purebloods, you know,” you crossed your arms as you spoke, slightly offended by his tone of voice.

He rolled his eyes, “This has nothing to do with you. You wouldn’t understand. I can handle myself.” Although his face was hard, steady, cold, you could tell that his eyes were pleading. Pleading for someone to care, to set him free.

“I can tell you’re lying,” you approached him slightly, trying your best not to seem as if you were cornering him, “Try me. Maybe I’ll understand.”

If you weren’t close to him, you wouldn’t have noticed the way his eyes were watery, becoming red as he clearly fought back his emotions.

“You think you would understand? You think anyone can possibly understand this?” he raised the sleeve of his left arm, revealing a dark tattoo on his forearm, the symbol immediately recognizable.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you took a step away from him, mind becoming hazy as your eyes were glued to the Dark Mark etched into his pale skin.

“You — you have the mark,” you breathed out slowly. You couldn’t fathom why he’d have it. You knew his parents were Death Eaters — hell, everyone knew that — but why Draco? What could he do while he was still at Hogwarts?

“Yeah, thanks, almost didn’t realize,” he spoke through gritted teeth, rolling his sleeve back down and finally letting his emotions free. A tear slid down his cheek as he faced away from you, frustrated at himself for being so vulnerable around another person.

You were still frozen in your spot. You thought he had maybe been dealing with depression, anxiety, pressure, fear — but never this. You never in a million years thought that he was dealing with the Dark Mark.

“I’m so sorry,” you found yourself saying the only thing you could think of. It was true, you were sorry for him, but there was nothing that could be done. Once the Mark was on, was there even a way of removing it? It was unheard of, really. Once you pledged your undying fidelity to You Know Who, it was that or death from then on. Thinking of that, you couldn’t blame him for being quiet and distant all term.

You found yourself approaching him even more, feeling thankful he didn’t pull away, and did the only thing you could think of in the moment.

You hugged him.

Your arms wrapped around his waist slowly, noticing immediately how he tensed under your touch. When your arms were fully wrapped around him, you rested your head against his chest, hearing the violent thud of his heartbeat.

“What are you doing?” he asked tensely, his body completely rigid at the strange showing of affection.

“Hugging you,” you replied, voice slightly muffled by his clothing, “You can hug back, y’know.”

He hesitantly raised his arms and draped them around you, not fully hugging you just yet. But as his mind caught up with him, he pulled you even closer to his body, as if all of a sudden, you were the one thing grounding him to reality.

“Do you not like it? I can stop,” you chuckled humourlessly, suddenly feeling embarrassed by your rash movement. If anyone saw you hugging Draco Malfoy, your friends would shun you for life.

He shook his head, “No, no, it’s not that. I’ve just — I don’t get these often.”

Your heart broke for him, “Well, I can give them to you.”

You replaced your arms around him even tighter and he relaxed at your touch, letting his head rest atop of yours. For such a strange encounter moments before, this seemed an oddly intimate way to end up.

“Thank you,” he whispered, arms still wrapped tightly around you. You had to do a double take. You were nearly certain you had never heard him apologize before. Was this what it felt like to be accomplished?

“Don’t thank me,” you muttered, slowly pulling away from him and tugging at the hair that got caught in his buttons, “I just always find hugs make me feel better. Thought I’d give it a shot. And I know I can’t even begin to understand what you’re going through, but I am here. If ever you need anyone. Talking, listening, I’m good at it all.”

He forced a smile, cheeks more flushed with colour, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Even though you had just found out he was now a Death Eater, you didn’t fear him. You didn’t feel like you should be running in the opposite direction and warning Harry and Dumbledore. You didn’t feel like he should be kicked out, expelled or killed. In that moment, he was vulnerable, scared, human. You just wanted to help.

“I should probably head to class before Harry thinks I’ve been attacked,” you tried adding humour, but it didn’t seem to work.

Draco’s frown deepened, “I’m not going to attack you.”

“I know,” you reassured him calmly, regretting your joke, “I just don’t want Harry and Ron and Hermione to come searching. We’ll keep this a secret, yeah?”

He gazed up at you, a light smile on his lips, “Don’t exactly want the world knowing, so yeah. Thank you.”

You nodded curtly, unsure as to how to continue the conversation, “Well, I’ll see you around. Take care of yourself. Please.” You shot him a genuine smile and he returned the gesture, eyes locked on you as you disappeared from sight and out the door.

As you left the room, you let out a deep breath, leaning against the wall and processing what had just happened. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. A Death Eater. He wasn’t even old enough to do magic outside of school. Did that mean he had to do his Dark Arts in the school?

You shook your head, not wanting to dwell too much. The more you overthrought the situation, the more you’d be tempted to warn Harry. But you highly doubted Draco’s purpose was to harm Harry when You Know Who wanted to do that himself.

Beginning your speed-walk to class, you really did try to clear your mind. You thought about Quidditch, about your upcoming Transfigurations essay, and even about what topic you guys could be discussing in class, but it seemed nearly impossible considering what had just happened.

You had been so distracted by your own thoughts you hadn’t even noticed you were right in front of the class. You opened the door with a grimace, knowing Snape was bound to be aggravated as hell that you were late.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he scowled, turning all of the attention of the class on you, “Mind explaining why you’re nearly half an hour late to my class?”

Half an hour? Had you really been gone that long.

“Sorry, Professor, wasn’t feeling well,” you lied, raising your hand and placing it on your stomach, “Was thinking of going to the hospital wing but didn’t want to miss the class.”

Snape scoffed, hardly believing your lie, “Thirty points from Gryffindor. Now sit down.”

You nodded, sliding into your usual seat next to Ron, who glanced over at you with a quizzing expression, “Where’d you really run off to?”

Luckily Snape was too busy scolding Neville Longbottom because Ron was not exactly a pro whisperer.

“Just... I wasn’t doing anything. Thought I was onto something but I wasn’t. Just forget about it,” you brushed him off, turning to face the black board and taking down notes, ignoring the confused stare Ron kept sending your way.

You had promised Draco you wouldn’t tell anyone. And besides, he showed no signs of doing anything dangerous just yet. Maybe this made you an accomplice, but you wanted to gauge the severity of the situation before you ran off tattletaling to Dumbledore.

Draco may have new found power, but was he actually going to put it to the test?

You wanted to find out why Draco.

——

For days now, you had actually been meeting up with the Slytherin in secret. Whether it be the Room or Requirements or even the Astronomy Tower during warm evenings, you became someone he felt comfortable around.

And surprisingly, you had become comfortable around him too. If your friends found out, they’d kill you dead, but you were becoming better and better at coming up with lies and excuses as to why you always got back late and where you kept going off too.

You’re pretty sure Harry is suspicious of you, but he’s never shown signs of not trusting you, so that was a good thing. Hermione and Ron were too focused on ignoring each other to pay attention to what you were up to — honestly, a part of you was thankful for it.

The Astronomy Tower was dark as nightfall fell upon it once again, the twinkling stars and bright moon being the only source of light. It was peaceful, really. The only place you could really go to get away from the chaotic environment of the school during the day.

And, yes, it did make it slightly more enjoyable that Draco would accompany you here.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked, the usual question you’d greet him with.

He shrugged, “Same as usual.”

You nodded, looking out over the dark lake, “Remember, I’m always here if you wanna vent.”

He smiled slightly, stepping closer to you and leaning against the railing, “I haven’t forgotten.”

The air surrounding you was tense, yet strangely peaceful. As if you and Draco had slipped into a common ground. Unsure how to address the issues at hand, but very much aware that you were going to be there for him.

“What did you tell your friends you were doing today?” he smirked, knowing how you had started to lie for him.

Rolling your eyes, you turned away from him, “Told them I was going to the Owlery to write to my mum. Don’t know how they believed it.”

“Because they’re idiots,” he scoffed, causing you to turn around and face him with a stern glare.

“Hey, you can’t keep talking about them like that. They’re my best friends,” you defended, crossing your arms to emphasize your point. You cocked an eyebrow as he opened his mouth again, warning him not to call them any other names.

He raised his hands, “Fine. Apologies.”

You uncrossed your arms and rested them on the railing, looking back out over the starlit sky and shadows of mountains. The view from up here was gorgeous. You had the view of the entire castle, as well as the view of the scenery surrounding it.

No matter how many times you looked over Hogwarts, the view never got old.

“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” you asked, looking down to the courtyard, illuminated dimly under the moon.

“Yeah, it is,” Draco said softly. You looked over and noticed his eyes were still on you. Both of your cheeks went pink, turning away immediately and choosing to look at other things.

“I’m scared,” he said softly, pulling you attention back to him, “I think — I know — that the Dark Lord wants me to do something. Something bad; something dangerous. And I — I don’t want to do it.”

You felt your heart sink at the broken expression on his face. You knew that he hated himself for what he had become, he had told you numerous times. But it didn’t change the fact that you really did feel bad for him.

“What is it he wants you to do?” you asked, moving closer to him without even realizing it.

He shook his head, eyes wide, “I — I can’t tell you. It’ll put you in danger.”

Based on the paleness of his face, you knew you shouldn’t push it. After all, being the only one at school who knew he was a Death Eater was already putting you at enough risk. It didn’t help, either, that you were slowly, but surely, falling for the boy in front of you.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you smiled, placing your hand softly over his. You hadn’t realized he was shaking so much, but he relaxed under your touch and let out a deep breath.

“I just—” he sighed, closing his eyes, “—I just don’t want to do it.”

“I don’t blame you,” you moved even closer, placing your other hand on his cold cheek, “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. I wish there was a way I could help.”

He opened his eyes, smiling softly down at you and placing his hand over yours, which was rubbing his cheek lightly, “I wish you could help too. But the last thing I want to do it place you in harm’s way.”

You felt heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks due to the way he was gazing down at you. He seemed to be staring into your soul and it was the most intimate moment you had ever felt.

“I appreciate that,” you whispered, realizing in that moment how close you were, “But I don’t want you in harm’s way either.”

He chuckled dryly, “Kind of late for that. I was practically born in harm’s way.”

Quite suddenly, he pulled away from you, and you only then noticed how warm he was when his distance caused cold air to surround your body. You found yourself missing the closeness, but figured his distance was probably for the best. You could barely fathom telling your friends you were talking to Malfoy — you couldn’t imagine what they’d say if anything were to actually happen.

“I know, I wish you had a choice,” you spoke up, louder this time as he kept his back turned to you, “It’s not fair.”

He shook his head, letting it drop, “It’s not. But —,” his voice trailed off before he turned and faced you, his face set and all softness gone, “I should probably go to bed.”

Your eyes involuntarily widened and you couldn’t help the clear shock on your face, “Wait, did I say something?”

“No,” he replied rather quickly, “I just need to go.” And without saying another word, abruptly rushed down the stairs, his blond head disappearing from view before you could even say another word.

You stayed there, silently in the dark, for another long while. You couldn’t understand why he had taken off so hastily. Was he scared of you? For you? For himself? Did he have a realization? What was it that had rushed him away?

You walked back to the Gryffindor common room with a sulky mood, mind whirling as to what it was that could have caused a drastic, sudden change in his mood. Draco had always been a tough book to read, often leading to him being irrational, but something told you this was more than just his normal actions. You couldn’t exactly blame him for being paranoid — he was dealing with You Know Who — but you couldn’t help wanting to know more.

The common room was quiet as you re entered. Thankfully, you wouldn’t have to deal with your friends’ questions tonight. They could wait for the morning when your head was a little clearer and you could think of better answers.

You stalked up the stairs and into the room, glad that Hermione was snoring away so it was loud enough to cover the sounds of you sliding under your sheets and putting out the lantern next to your bed.

Safe to say, it was hard to sleep that night, your head far away and your body tossing and turning non stop.

You had never been more physically and mentally exhausted as you were the next morning.

——

Somehow, you had managed to go four days without seeing Malfoy. He hadn’t shown up to class, nor to any of the meals in the Great Hall. You were worried, there was no beating around the bush about that. But you still couldn’t express your worries to your friends or they’d think you were insane.

On the fifth day, the dark heavy rain poured down and the dark clouds in the ceiling of the Great Hall during breakfast did nothing to lighten your mood.

You had barely slept these last few night, Draco being the only thing you could think of. Both worried for his safety, and worried for the safety of others, you kept an eye out everywhere you walked to see if you could spot his familiar face.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

To your great distaste, seeing Harry and Ginny finally realize their feelings for each other in the span of these last five days had made your longing for Draco even worse. Yes, your stupid heart had decided to grow feelings for him. And yes, it ticked you off knowing you’d never be able to act on said feelings.

So, seeing Ginny linking her hand with Harry’s as she joined your table for breakfast made your blood boil.

“Morning,” she grinned, pressing a light kiss to Harry’s cheek, Ron grimacing at the affection.

“Bloody hell, can you not do that around me?” he groaned, looking down at his plate with disgust as if seeing the gesture caused him to loose his appetite.

“It’s sweet,” Hermione beamed, closing her book and placing it between you two on the bench, “I think it’s nice.”

Harry and Ginny grinned at her compliment, but it went unnoticed by you as your eyes scanned the Slytherin table once more. Draco’s head usually stuck out like a sore thumb, so you’d see him if he was there.

“Ron, you’re ready for Quidditch practice, yeah?” Harry nodded towards Ron, finishing off his pumpkin juice and standing up, “Let’s get going.”

“It’s raining, mate,” Ron groaned, about to stuff the last bit of toast in his mouth.

Harry shrugged, “Thanks for pointing out the weather, let’s go.”

Hermione giggled as Ron begrudgingly stood up and followed Harry out of the Great Hall. As you watched them leave, your eyes following them to the door, your heart leapt out of your chest.

Draco was standing in the doorway, looking like right hell. His face was ghostly, his eyes sunken in and dark and his hair matted to his head.

You stood up, nearly knocking Hermione over with the force of your movement. But as you looked over at him, Hermione seemed to vanish from your view.

“Gotta go,” you said to the two girls, striding towards the entrance. Draco must have seen you, because he took off in the opposite direction, his pace picking up once he noticed you following him.

“Oi, Draco, slow your roll,” you shouted, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. You hadn’t expected him to actually stop, causing you to crash into his back and nearly stumble over.

“Sorry about that,” you mumbled, regaining your balance and hiding the flush on your cheeks. He didn’t move, so you turned around to face him, holding back a gasp when you noticed the state he was in.

“Draco, what happened?” your voice was soft, reassuring. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel like you were judging him.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, looking down to his feet, “I’m fine.”

Scoffing, you raised a hand to his cheek and placed it against his skin lightly, “You can open up to me, remember?”

He leaned into your touch, eyes closing, “I’m sorry. I just — I needed to stay away.” He shuddered as he spoke. You could tell he was trying to be as open and honest as he could without giving too much away.

“From me?” you asked, stepping closer to him and pulling him behind a pillar so you couldn’t be seen by passing students.

He nodded, “I don’t want to put you in danger if I can help it. I’m — I like your company.”

“I like your company too,” you smiled softly, “Which is why it sucked when I couldn’t find you.”

“No, like — never mind,” he waved his hands, brushing you off, “It’s pathetic.”

“Wait, no, you need to be open with me,” you pointed a finger at him, a grin forming on your lips at the redness growing on his cheeks, “What is it?”

He fidgeted in his spot, avoiding your gaze before speaking so softly you almost missed it, “I actually like you. Like, like you. Since first year, actually. And I opened up to you. And then I realized I was putting you, the one person I care about, in danger.”

You stared at him, mouth agape and face drained of colour. Had he just said he likes you? Draco Malfoy likes you? You had always had a soft spot for him — even though you shouldn’t have had one — but you never imagined he felt the same to this extent. It slowly started to make sense; why he was always kinder to you, why he felt the need to open up to you, why he wanted to distance himself after doing so.

The redness on his cheeks grew, and you could feel the heat flooding into your own. For some reason, just the knowledge of his crush had your heart fluttering away because you couldn’t deny — you had one too.

“Well, that’s good to know,” you stepped closer, “I like you too.”

His head shot up, eyes nearly bulging out of his head, “You — you do?”

“Yes,” you said, more seriously this time, “And now that my little secret is out there, you need to start taking care of yourself. I know this is scary and you don’t know what’s going on, but take care of yourself. Please. For me.”

He seemed to ponder on your words, moving closer to you, “Promise. I will.”

Almost as if your presence had done something to him, the colour seemed to have flooded back into his face and his eyes seemed to spark life once more. You grinned, pleased at your affect on him, and wrapped your arms around him.

He leaned into the hug this time, less awkward and unsure. His head nestled into your neck and his hands gripped your waist firmly, the affectionate gesture being a source of comfort to both of you.

You pulled away after a long moment, grinning like an idiot and trying your best to hide it, “I’m really proud of you for opening up, y’know? It can’t be easy and I—,”

Your rambling was cut off by his lips forcefully pressing up against yours. You were too caught off guard to kiss back, standing there stiff as a board with your mind racing to catch up to his actions. He noticed your stiffness, causing him to immediately pull away and stare at you with panic in his eyes.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he ran his hand down his face, pale as ever and the panic in his eyes growing more by the second, “Forgive me, it was heat of the moment.”

“Stop rambling,” your mind finally caught up with you to the point where you could process what just happened, “Kiss me again.”

He placed his hands softly on either sides of your head and pressed his lips softly against yours. Tingles shot through your entire body at his touch, your heart being sent into overdrive as fireworks erupted in your belly.

His kiss was soft but passionate and needy. You could tell he was desperate to cling to you as much as he could, his body pressed up against yours and holding you flush to him. His body was relaxed — this was probably the least stressed he had ever been around you.

Your hands went into his hair, his delicate kiss still sending your mind into a frenzy, even after he had pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“That was — that was —” Draco’s breathing was a little off as he chuckled, eyes staring into yours with a whole new level of adoration.

“Yeah,” you grinned, pulling your forehead away from his to look at him properly. His eyes were wide and he couldn’t fight his smile.

From that moment on, you didn’t leave his side. You met in the Astronomy Tower nearly every single night — it was a place just for the two of you. He confided in you about his feelings, his fears, worries, dreams. Anything that was going on in his mind, he told you about it.

And he loved you.

He felt like the didn’t deserve your kindness, your open heart, but he welcomed it and accepted every moment, feeling the least alone he had ever felt before.

You, on the other hand, managed to keep your time with Draco a secret from your friends for a long time. They had become suspicious, yes, but you managed to throw them off your scent and make up a storyline of what exactly was going on.

And you knew bigger things were to come. Wars, fights, probably even death. But you were going to keep your promise and stick by his side until the very end.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy one shots #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fics #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy reader insert

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years ago

Text

Play Pretend (500 Celebration)

500 Celebration Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Prompt: From the Love Tropes category: “Blackmail”

Word Count: 1596

Warnings: Modern!AU, angst, Ivar being a dick, nothing else I can think of.

A/N: This ain’t the fluffiest piece, it’s not fluffy at all, but hey, it’s marginally less angsty than the last one, that I can promise you.

To be honest, idk what this is, and I am not certain it is any good. But I’ve been dealing with one hell of a writer’s block lately, and I really needed to just write what came to mind. Hope you enjoy!

You eye the name flashing on your phone screen, and though a part of you really doesn’t want to answer, you still do.

“I would have thought you caught on that I really didn’t want to talk after the fourth day. This is bordering on stalking, you know.”

“Is it stalking if you gave me your number?” Ivar retorts without missing a beat, and you sigh.

“I assume you have a reason to call me. Unless missing the sound of my voice became too much to bear.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Is it flattery if it is true?” You taunt back, only to then chastise yourself for falling into familiar patterns.

“I heard your mother’s firm is taking over Ragnar’s newest countersuit.” Ivar starts, choosing to ignore your words.

“Ah, you just happened to hear that?”

“I might have asked,” He concedes, before taking a breath and continuing, “You know I’m going to England with him, right? His last meeting with Ecbert before he retires,” You offer only a hum in response, but something like dread and worry churns at your stomach. It is never a good sign when Ivar sounds so damn pleased with himself. “My father listens to me, trusts my advice.”

“If you’re going where I think you are…”

He interrupts you, words cutting and cold, “I could have your mother’s firm dropped before she even gets to sign anything.”

“I would say something about how blackmail isn’t the way to mend things with your ex, but…”

“You know better.” He tells you, the dry tone making the beginning of a smile pull at your lips, lips that you furrow when you notice the evidence of your foolishness.

____

A very lengthy argument and a plane ride after, you’re back in Kattegat, enough clothes for a week and a scowl on your brow that you think might be stuck there from now on.

Six months ago your mother started insisting that, now that you had gotten engaged to ‘one of the Lothbroks’, you should consider starting to work more closely with her; five months ago you freaked out at the mere idea of it and decided to do the exact opposite and take an internship opportunity in a non-profit in Nepal; four months ago Ivar said that if you were running away and leaving that you might as well break it off.

In none of those four months he considered letting his family know that long distance didn’t work -not that he even tried- and that you had broken up.

So now you are set for a week in the Lothbrok’s home for Björn’s wedding, pretending you never broke up with Ivar with the threat of your mother losing her contract looming over your head.

Which makes all of this fucking fantastic.

“You should have told them,” You say for what feels like the thousandth time, eyeing his profile carefully. “You should have told her.”

“You’re not here to tell me how to handle my family.” Ivar points out gruffly through gritted teeth.

“No, I’m here to pretend we haven’t broken up four months ago,” You scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation, turning to look back out the window. “Because that is a very healthy thing to do.”

“Healthier than moving to the ass-end of nowhere because someone suggested the possibility of you committing to something for once in your life.”

“I commit!” You protest immediately, frowning at his doubtful glare, “I committed to you!”

“You left me.” Ivar accuses without missing a beat, rage flaring and eyes set intently on you. Your mouth falls open at the fucking audacity of this man.

“No, don’t turn this on me. You-…” You bite back the words with a groan of frustration, running your hands through your hair before sighing, “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

Resting back against the seat and wondering not for the first time how much these people pay their drivers to not blurt out every little secret that they overhear, you close your eyes and focus on the dull thrum of the car speeding through the highway.

Most of all you dread seeing Aslaug, if you are honest. The woman always did have a keen eye to notice everything about everyone, or at least the confidence to pretend she did. If you’re honest, she…intimidates you.

You tell yourself she has no idea you and Ivar broke up, which would give her no reason to hate you. She was always warm towards you since Ivar first introduced you as his girlfriend. Her eyes were even glistening with pride and happiness when you walked in with a ring on your finger.

You jump in your seat, turning frantic eyes to the man that sits next to you.

“Oh, Gods, the ring! Y-Your mother’s ring, I d-…”

Your words are cut short and left choked in a dying gasp with only a movement of Ivar’s hand, that now extends between you with the engagement ring in the palm of his hand.

He doesn’t even look your way when he offers it, but when you reach cautious fingers to grab it, you could swear his hand trembles slightly.

Sliding it back over your finger feels strange, and for a moment it feels so warm it burns. You toy with the ring idly, and cannot keep the words from tumbling out of your mouth.

“You kept it.”

“Of course I did, it’s my Ma’s.”

Of course, how stupid of you. You curse the useless hope that unbidden sneaked up on you.

You decided to leave, you remind yourself. Hell, you are considering agreeing on making the original six months of your internship last a year instead.

Granted, agreeing to making it a year may be more out of fear of coming back home than of truly wanting to stay there. But still, you shouldn’t be holding out hope that there’s something left, or that there might be something to come back to Kattegat for.

“R-Right.” You nod for emphasis, but it is to conceal the way you have to swallow hard to keep your composure.

After a while of silence, either because your curiosity always got the better of you or because you need to make sense of this insane ruse you are about to partake in, you ask,

“Why are you doing this, Ivar?”

“Hm? Doing what?” He asks, at your stern glare looking back out the window and shrugging one shoulder, “I didn’t want to tell them.”

“You’ll have to, eventually.”

“Not now,” He states, a little harsher, making you realize you’ve struck a nerve. His eyes find yours for a moment before he returns his gaze to the road that passes you by, and the manor that approaches quite quickly. “But now…now Björn is getting married and…that should have been us, you know.”

“W-What?”

“The wedding, the…the everything,” He grits his teeth, and his hand tightens into a fist before it loosens, the gesture familiar only now he lacks the crutch at his side to grip tightly in anger. Your eyes trace his profile intently, and you hold your breath waiting for him to talk. Ivar takes a breath, shoulders rising and falling slowly, “I should have married you.”

“So what? So you could make me stay in Kattegat?” You ask, maybe a bit more bitingly than you should.

“You loved me,” He states, proud even he makes it sound like an accusation, “You told me no one made you feel like I did, that you would never love someone like you loved me. Was that a lie, hm?”

All the answer you can offer is a glare and words kept stubbornly at the tip of your tongue. It is cruel to throw your words back at you, but you wouldn’t put it past him, since all of this is a cruel and sick game.

He is the one that broke up with you, he is the one that told you to mail him the ring back, he is the one that made things what they are; and yet he uses power and blackmail to get you to play a part. All the while refusing to admit he is the reason why you have to pretend in the first place.

But you are not deluded enough to tell yourself this is unlike Ivar. He is as ruthless as his father, maybe even more so, and he has the single-minded focus that Ragnar lacks. You aren’t sure if that last thing is a positive or a negative.

The car parks at the entrance of the lavish home you know by heart now, and Ivar takes a deep breath, looking at you one last time.

His words before he leaves the car leave you cold and stunned for a few moments,

“You’ll remember how good it was, you’ll see. I’ll make you forget all about leaving me.”

Scrambling to get out, you walk around the car to stand at his side, looking up at him with wide eyes, “So they know? They know a-and you made me come here to make me be with you again?”

Ivar frowns, as if you are the one that’s not making any sense.

“They don’t know,” He insists, the hand not on the crutch grasping at your left one, fingers running over the ring with appalling familiarity. You are left to wonder how much of this game of play pretend he is willing to make himself believe as true when he offers a smile that feels like home and says, “I don’t lie to you, you know that.”

____ ____ ____

Thank you so much for reading, I hope this was okay! I’ll be trying to post two or three celebration thingies three days a week from now on, so that’s it for today but I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow!

Also, some things in the masterlist may be changed (Echoes, for example, was supposed to be a Hvitserk one), so I might change the “Fake Relationship” for Ivar and write a sequel to this.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @maggiescarborough @chibisgotovalhalla @fae-sedai @zuxiezendler @crazybunnyladysworld @stupiddarkkside @northumbria @sagyunaro

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #500 fucking hell thank you ily

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unmaskedagain · 5 years ago

Text

Rock Star

I was feeling a bit of writer’s block this morning. So I went through my prompts and found this awesome one. It has a bit of angst.

She lost her friends. The boy she was in love with broke her heart. No one in class apart from Chloe would even speak to her anymore. Lila’s lies had taken root in class, leaving Marinette in the back alone and abandoned. The worst part was that Marinette didn’t even know if she could be friends with any of her classmates again after the truth was exposed. In the effort to cling tighter to the coattails of someone who promised them the world, they had abandoned a childhood friend as if the friendship meant nothing; as if Marinette meant nothing. And as if that wasn’t enough, Akumas were getting stronger every day. Chat Noir was pushier than ever before. Most days it was all too much.

Most days Marinette didn’t want to get out of bed. She rarely smiled anymore. She couldn’t find it in her to design. It was like the life force had been drained from her. It didn’t take long for her parents to notice. However, after weeks of trying, when it became clear that Marinette wasn’t going to talk to them and that she wasn’t getting better, they sent her to a therapist. After they managed to get her to promise to at least try.

Dr. Vanderbilt was a kind woman with greying red hair and a Scottish accent. It took multiple sessions before Marinette started to open up about her problems at school; about feeling overwhelmed. One day after a session, the doctor gave Marinette a notebook.

“What’s this for?” Marinette asked taking the black notebook. The front of it said it had a 1000 pages.

“Whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed, I want you to write.”

“Write what?”

“Whatever you want,” Vanderbilt smiled. “What you’re feeling. Poetry. Songs. Quotes you know. Write a story. Whatever helps you get what you’re feeling out, lessen the load you’re carrying a bit.”

So Marinette did.

It was a struggle at first. She never thought of herself as much of a writer. Then she started writing random quotes she knew. Then Marinette started writing a bit of poetry just to try to express herself in a way she could understand. However, during a particularly troublesome day, when Alya accused her of being lazy and not being a good class president, Marinette resigned her position much to the shock of the class and started writing song lyrics.

One of the recommendation from Vanderbilt was to always stop doing things she didn’t want to do just because it made other people happy; especially if it was at harm to herself.

The doctor made Marinette write 100 times: I will not set myself on fire to keep you warm.

Marinette always hated being class president; the stress alone could kill a dozen elephants. She hated doing free commissions so she stopped that too. She hated doing the whole birthday celebrations, when everyone was quick to forget her that year. Or plan parties and fundraisers for trips that class made sure to make clear they didn’t want to her go to or on. So she stopped that too.

It was freeing.

Writing lyrics to songs were freeing. Soon she was writing them during class, lunch, after school, when there a moment of free time when helping out at the bakery.

And Vanderbilt was right. It did help her.

Marinette to smile a lot more. The pep in her step was back. She started hanging out with Chloe and Luka more and more. She made friends with others kids in class. She created a website and started selling custom designs.

One Friday, after school, Marinette found herself in Jagged’s Hotel room with Chloe and Luka. Jagged had asked Marinette to bring his new concert wardrobe that he had commission from her. He had and Clara Nightingale were going on tour together.

After Jagged had reviewed the clothes and approved them, proclaimed each outfit to be, “Rockin!”

Marinette found herself writing a song in her notebook while Luka and Jagged discussed musical influences. Chloe and Penny discussed a potential internships.

She was so invested in writing that she didn’t notice when the talking stopped. Or when Jagged asked her if she wanted Pizza.

Marinette jumped back when a hand suddenly waved in her face. “Wait! What!” She looked around and saw the amused faces of Jagged, Penny, Chloe, and Luka. Even Fang had a long grin on his face.

“What’s this love?” Jagged asked pointing to her notebook. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for ages.”

The bluenette blushed and tried not to hide her notebook; it would only make them more curious, “Nothing; just a notebook for ideas.” Technically that was true.

“Right on, can I see?” Jagged asked.

Marinette instantly pulled the notebook to her chest and her blushed turned a dark red. She was not going to show a Rock Star the song she wrote. She’d rather die. “Nope! Nah ah, nothing to see here.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “Yes, because that’s totally what someone with nothing to hide does.” The blond looked at Penny. “She writes song lyrics. They’re pretty good.”

Marinette glared at the blond, “Traitor.”

Luka looked a bit curious. Jagged had a full blown grin on his face, “I knew it!” he shouted. “I knew there was a rocker in you. I had just had to wait a bit, love. Come on. Let me see then! Show Uncle jagged your songs.”

It took about twenty minutes to get Marinette to agree and then another ten to pry the notebook out of her hands. She watched with a pit in her stomach growing bigger and bigger as she watched Luka, Chloe, Jagged, and Penny flip through her notebook. Reading the lyrics that came straight from her heart.

What if they hated them? What if they thought she had no talent? What if they thought she was a freak? What if! What If!

“This is good, mate,” Jagged suddenly said. An impressed look on his face. “These are really good.”

“Told ya,” Chloe said smugly.

Penny nodded, “I wouldn’t mind commissioning some songs from you.”

“I’d like to jam together,” Luka said. “Maybe we can do a duet.”

Jagged suddenly shot up, “Penny! Call the guys. We need a band! Marinette’s gonna sing for us!” He ran for his guitar.

“Marinette’s going to do what now?” Marinette shouted.

Marinette was going to sing.

She sat on a dark brown wooden stool, in front of Jagged’s backup band, with Jagged and Luka on guitar. Chloe and Penny watched in the background. An assistant help up a camera.

Jagged had decided to give Marinette a rockstar makeover; well as much as she would let him. Her hair was pulled back in a faux hawk with a few curls framing her face, her makeup was flawless, her face was painted to look like she had been crying and her mascara had gotten everywhere.

It took a while for Jagged, Luka, and she to work out the music would be good for her songs and what songs she’d use. She decided to let the four: Jagged, Penny, Luka, and Chloe decide on the best ones. Marinette was too bias, she knew.

They had practiced. Everyone assured her she had an amazing voice but Marinette thought they were a bit biased too. They loved her too much to hurt her by saying anything mean.

“Hey fans watching!” Jagged said into the mic. “Today, I got a special guest here. My honorary niece and personal fashion designer; Marinette. She’s written some kick ass songs and agreed to prove that she’s a rockstar like her Uncle. Give her some love!”

Marinette got up and waked to the mic.

The drum beat started slowly. Marinette took a deep breath. The guitars and piano started.

Marinette opened her mouth to sing,

“Someday I won't be afraid of my head

Someday I will not be chained to my bed

Someday I'll forget the day he left

But surely not today.”

The beat picked up a bit.

She fought not to close her eyes as she sang. Instead, she thought of why she wrote the song; all the pain, all the mess going on inside. Her blue eyes got a faraway look to them.

“One day I won't need a PhD

To sit me down and tell me what it all means

Maybe one day it'll be a breeze

But surely not today

But surely not today”

Admitting she was in therapy was hard. Penny comforted her and admitted she went a lot too. Jagged hadn’t been happy when Chloe told the two adults just what was happening in Marinette’s class.

“Oh you don't know what sadness means

'Till you're too sad to fall asleep

One day I'll be snoozing peacefully

But surely not today

Surely not today.”

Marinette voice carried across the room. She let herself get lost in the music. Otherwise, she’d be too panicky over the fact that she more or less admitted to being depressed.

“One day I'll swear the pain will be a blip

I'll have the hardest time recalling it

I'll be the king of misery management

But surely not today.”

This song was a promise to herself. That she would move on. She would get better. Somehow, someway, Marinette would conquer all that she was going through and be better for it.

“One day that song won't make me cry anymore (oh no no)

One day I'll get up off the bathroom floor (hey yeah)

Oh, piece by piece I'll be restored

But surely not today (surely not)

Eh, not today”

Marinette swayed to the music, dancing in place. The other people in the room watched, entranced by her voice.

“oh you don't know what happy means

If it's only in your dreams

I'll be acquainted with my jollities

But surely not today

Yeah, surely not today.”

There were days when Marinette swore she forgot what it meant to be happy; questioned if she had ever been really happy. Or if she had just fooled herself into thinking she was. She knew better now. And Marinette refused to let the dark thoughts win.

“Surely not, surely, surely not

Surely not (surely not today)”

Marinette sang that part softly. She knew she wasn’t going to get completely better right away. But she would… One day.

“One day the thought of him won't hurt the same

Won't need distractions to get through the day

I guess I hope I'm gonna be okay

'Cause I'm not today.”

The song slowly died down. Silence filled the room. Then there were claps and cheers. Jagged’s new manager Harvey Boyd looked ready to wet his pants from excitement.

“Yes!” jagged yelled. “That’s how you do it!”

Marinette blushed again and ran off stage as Luka readied himself to perform. Penny and Chloe both assured her that she had been amazing but Marinette couldn’t stop her heart from racing in her chest.

Chloe helped prepare her for her next song as they watched Luka perform.

He had gotten used to being Solo since Kitty Section kicked him out the band. Luka sang a called, She will be loved. A sad melody that was fit him to a T.

“I don't mind spendin' everyday

Out on your corner in the pourin' rain

Look for the girl with the broken smile

Ask her if she wants to stay awhile

And she will be loved, and she will be loved”

When he was done, once again Harvey Boyd had that hungry look on his face.

Then Jagged performed one of his hits. After that he brought Marinette up on their makeshift stage again.

Marinette didn’t feel any better performing the second time. She’d be singing the song Jagged chose.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

So much for my happy ending

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

So much for my happy ending

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh”

The song was definitely more Rock than her last one. And she wrote it most about Adrien, some of it geared toward Alya and the rest of her friends.

“Let's talk this over

It's not like we're dead

Was it something I did?

Was it something you said?”

Marinette had wondered for months what she had wrong. Why it was so easy for them to just ignore her; disregard her, end their friendships.

“Don't leave me hanging

In a city so dead

Held up so high

On such a breakable thread”

They left her alone. Adrien left her alone. She trust them, and just left her.

“You were all the things I thought I knew

And I thought we could be…”

Marinette closed her eyes for just a moment as the beat of the music changed.

You were everything, everything that I wanted

“We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it

All of the memories, so close to me, just fade away

All this time you were pretending

So much for my happy ending

So much for my happy ending.”

The song went on for a few more minutes. She had let the music as the guitar solo slowly died down. The song was met with applause.

Marinette performed a few more songs, along with Luka. After one of them, Harvey had come directly up to her and Luka and offered to be their manager. Apparently, Jagged’s label had been watching them and wanted to give each of them a record deal. If Penny and Chloe hadn’t been there, both Luka and Marinette wouldn’t fallen her their butts in shock.

Jagged called Boyd away to discuss something.

Luka gripped his guitar so tightly Marinette feared it would break, “That didn’t just happen, did it?”

“Nope,” Marinette shook her head, earnestly. “It’s the fumes from all their hairspray. It must have knocked us out. We’re in coma right now.”

Chloe glared at them. “Oh. Shut. UP! You were amazing. You both were. Marinette you screamed Girl power. And Luka, there’s probably a million girls planning on marry you right now.”

“I have to call my mom!” Luka and Marinette said at the same time.

Her parents were excited about the news. But they made it clear as long as it didn’t interfere with her school work, she could do whatever she wanted. Sabine and Tom were just happy their little girl was back.

Luka said his mom was the safe. School first, hall of fame second.

Jagged pulled Marinette on stage for one last song. The song was chosen by Chloe. It was the song Marinette wrote once she realized she was done. She was done with the drama in class, done with fake friends. Done with game and lies. Done with mean comments and ice cold glares. She was over it. And Marinette didn’t care anymore.

“You wanna play, you wanna stay, you wanna have it all

You started messing with my head until I hit a wall

Maybe I shoulda known, maybe I shoulda known

That you would walk, you would walk out the door.”

Marinette watched Penny smile as she turned on the big fans pointed at her.

Said we were done, you met someone and rubbed it in my face

Cut to the punch, she broke your heart, and then she ran away

I guess you shoulda known, I guess you shoulda known

That I would talk, I would talk

She remembered Alya standing in class renouncing their friendship, and nearly everyone joining her. The look on Lila’s face as she finally fulfilled her promise. Adrien not doing anything, and avoiding contact. He never stood up for her; not once. He blocked her calls, stopped answering her texts, until finally he let Nino and who else in class convince him to end his friendship with Marinette outright.

But when got over the loss, the heartbreak; she decided it was for the best. Marinette didn’t need them. She didn’t want them. Marinette swore she’d never be friends with them again.

“But even if the stars and moon collide

I never want you back into my life

You can take your words and all your lies.”

The fire in Marinette’s eyes caused a few people to step back; including Luka. Then a wide smile spread over her face and

“Oh I really don't care

Even if the stars and moon collide

I never want you back into my life

You can take your words and all your lies

Oh oh I really don't care

Oh oh oh I really don't care?”

When the song ended, everyone cheered.

Jagged grabbed the mic, “Wasn’t she pure Rock and Roll, or what?” He picked up Fang. “What do you think, Fang? You loved it! For those of you who don’t know; this is my pet,” He told the camera. “Totally coolest guy ever. I’d never do anything mainstream like get a cat or anything.” He said with a wink. “For those of you who loved today’s acts; I’ve got some good news. All songs are going to be on itunes. Just look them up! In Addition; my label wants to offer both Luka and Marinette records deals. Who knows, maybe I’ll reach out to Clara about them coming on tour with us; we could use a couple of awesome opening acts.”

Marinette went home with the biggest smile on her face. She didn’t think much what happened. She figured the record deal wouldn’t go anywhere; someone would realize just how lame she was and stop it dead in her tracks. Marinette also figured that Chloe had exaggerated about how many watched; no one wanted to see some Amateur sing, even if it was on Jagged Stone streamed it.

It wasn’t a big deal, Marinette thought when she went to bed, tomorrow no one would even remember her. Still, it was a pretty fun.

By Monday morning, Marinette would learn just how big of deal it really was. Little did she know that, overnight, her song ‘Not Today’ was downloaded over 2 million times? Her song ‘Happy ending’ sold over 3 million. But ‘Really Don’t Care’ broke records. The rest of the songs had had performs sold well too; each selling over a million copies. The world was listening to her music, and she had no clue. Luka did pretty well too; his songs were just trailing after Marinette’s in sells.

Marinette had been helping her parents in the bakery’s kitchen, listening to the radio, when a new song started to play. Marinette turned white as a sheet, “M-Mom! Dad!” She said, her voice trembling.

“What’s up, honey?” Tom asked, worry clear in his eyes.

She pointed at the radio with a shaky hand, “That’s mine.”

“What?” Sabine asked confused.

“That’s mine,” Marinette repeated. “That’s my song!”

Her parents looked even more confused. Until they listened closer to the song and recognized their daughter’s voice.

Sabine dropped the pans she was holding, “You’re on the radio,” She whispered. “You’re on the radio.” She yelled, cheering.

Tom pulled his daughter into a giant bear hug, “My sugarplum’s a Superstar!”

After Marinette’s song

Once, she finished in the bakery, Marinette ran to Chloe’s. When she was let into the penthouse, she rushed to Chloe’s room, and as soon as she saw the blond, she yelled, “I’m on the radio!” And screamed. Chloe screamed with her.

Then Luka called and screamed, “I’m on the radio!” The sound of his mother cheering the background. As far as he was concerned it was the best day of his life. The year had sucked so hard; first his sister became one of Lila’s groupies, then he got kicked out of his own band, he realized he and the girl (Marinette) he had a crush on were better off as friends, and he broke his lucky guitar and had to fork over his savings to buy a new one.

But getting a record deal, being on the radio, nearly made all of it worth it. Luka still really wanted his sister back though.

The three friends spent the rest of the weekend hanging out and being amazed at their luck. Chloe got the internship she was after in the PR department. Thanks to Penny, she’d be Luka and Marinette’s promotor. Or least learning firsthand how everything works.

When Monday morning came, Marinette was still oblivious to just much had changed in so little time… Until she got to school, and some random girl asked for her autograph. Marinette stuttered out a, “Sure.” And signed the girl’s notebook. While she was doing it, four other kids lined up behind her. She signed each one with a smile.

“I really like your song: Not today,” One guy told her. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one that gets that way sometimes.”

Marinette was so touched, she nearly started crying right there. She would’ve if Chloe hadn’t dragged her away, with a hiss about not crying in front on fans.

On the way to class, a few kids stopped and asked her for a picture. She agreed. But when more and more kids tried to get her attention, Marinette, once again, had to be saved by Chloe.

“You are not getting mauled on my watch,” Chloe tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’d never get to work in PR again.”

Marinette giggled. Chloe rolled her eyes with a fund smile.

The smiles died when they reached class. They had gotten there early. Marinette was rarely ever late anymore sense she had lighted her work load. Only a few kid were there. Max, Nathaniel, and Mylene; they all looked at Marinette with wide eyes.

Marinette ignored them as Chloe and she went to their seats. They made light talk and ignored the looks of the other students as more and more arrived. Most didn’t say a word to her; not knowing what to do or say.

When Rose arrived, she immediately rushed over to Marinette, “I love your music. I didn’t know you could sing!” She chirped. “I can’t believe you performed with Jagged Stone. You’re so lucky.”

The bluenette gave the other girl a small smile, “Yeah it was amazing. Luka was great too,” She added. “He’s ecstatic about the record deal. He was so bummed when Kitty Section kicked him out; something about him holding you guys back. Did you guys ever find a new singer and lead guitarist? It’s been months, right?” It was spiteful. It was the meanest thing Marinette had ever done. And they deserved it.

Rose visibly wilted. So did Ivan and Juleka. Every member of Kitty Section regretted kicking Luka out of the band the moment they saw him performing with Jagged Stone; getting the break of a lifetime. And when they heard about a potential record deal… well, let’s say regret didn’t begin to cover it.

“Oh, we’re working on it,” Rose smiled, a big fake smile on her face. “We got a lot of people we’re considering.” The truth was, and it was hard for Kitty section to learn, that most people who had a fraction of Luka’s talent didn’t want to work with a bunch of teenagers. And without Luka there, no one was reminding them to practice or book gigs.

Rose returned to a seat, feeling more bummed than she had when she got to the class. She had been happy for Marinette, and for Luka. But she had so many dreams for Kitty Section and herself that just because she was happy for them, didn’t mean she wasn’t unhappy for herself.

Chloe pulled Marinette back into the conversation, just as the last of the students arrived, “So, once you sign the record deal, are you going to go on tour with Jagged and Clara. Luka said he’s going.”

Marinette frowned. She hadn’t really considered it much. Clara had reached out to her congratulate her on the record deal and tell her how much she loved Marinette’s songs. Clara had hinted hard that she’d love Marinette to come on tour with her. But Marinette didn’t know. Being a rock star wasn’t ever one of her goals in life.

“I still want to design,” Marinette admitted.

Chloe shrugged, “So do that too.” She suddenly gripped Marinette’s arm. “You can wear design your own dress to the Teen Choice Awards, and the MTV music Awards. You can design my dress!”

Marinette laughed, “My song came out like three days ago, and you’re practically writing my acceptance speech; I might not get nominated.”

The blond scoffed, “Oh you’re getting nominated. Do you know how many people downloaded your songs? Records were broken. Even my mother played ‘Really don’t care’ whenever she wants someone to stop talking to her now. Go on tour!”

“I’d need more songs,” Marinette said. “I’ll need to release like an actual album.”

“Penny went through all yours songs, remember?” Chloe said. “She sent me a list of all ones that she think would top the charts. She wants to record, ‘Fight Song’ as soon as you sign with the label. And she swears, ‘I kissed a Girl’ is going make people lose their minds.”

Marinette sent her a smirk, “That song’s half yours remember; we wrote it after you and Kagami got closer.”

“Won’t even hide the body, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe growled.

Marinette laughed, “Fine! If I go on tour, I want you there with me. I couldn’t do it with you! You’re only one I’d trust me my social media accounts.”

“How could you invite Chloe,” Alya asked hearing the end of the conversation as she arrived just after the bell rang. “I’d be a much better social media influencer than her!”

Chloe raised an eyebrow, “Uh huh, and how’s the traffic for the Ladyblog?” She asked.

Alya flushed with anger. It was bad. They all knew it was bad. Ladyblog had died dramatically after Ladybug vocally for the other press to hear told Alya she didn’t work with reporters who didn’t fact check. “Marinette’s my bestie; I should be going with her.”

Marinette snorted, “Last I check your bestie was Lila. Or don’t you remember ending our friendship?”

“Well, I, uh,” Alya stuttered out. She had completely forgotten disowning the bluenette. She had been so excited when her mother told her friend’s name was trending, thinking she’d see Lila Rossi, only to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng on the top search list of the day. Then she watched the video of her performing, when Jagged mentioned the record deal, Alya lost her mind. Her mind was filled with images of her and Marinette at music awards shows and on tours; movie premieres. It was all going to be amazing.

Except it wasn’t. She and Marinette weren’t friends anymore. A balloon popped inside Alya.

Marinette gave her a sad smile, “What did you think I forgot? Or you must have.”

“The chances of that happening or as likely as Jagged Stone owning a cat,” Chloe smirked as Lila walked into the door. “Or did you forget that part too? Wonder how Lila saved something he never owned?”

To her credit, Lila didn’t bat an eye. “He doesn’t own one now. He must have forgotten the poor thing once he got really famous and they went out of style. I wonder what happened to it.” It was good performance. Lila even got teary eyed.

Still, Lila was met with suspicious looks. The class started to wonder if she was really their golden ticket. Or if the pissed of the real one instead.

“Congratulations, Marinette,” Lila simpered, jealously flaring in her eyes. “Who knew Jagged Stone was your Uncle?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Chloe poked yet another hole in her story. “You said you were oh so very close.”

Marinette smirked, “I had get my rock and roll genes from somewhere.”

#ml fic #ml salt #marinette dupen chang #luka couffaine #chloe bourgeois #Marinette deserves better #adrien salt

3K notes · View notes

ill-be-your-honey-bri · 5 years ago

Text

Save Me

This is what happens when I am left alone with my imagination, watching way too much crime TV. I introduce Detective Harry Styles.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, smut including cuffs and choking.

Trigger Warnings: There are mentions of homicide, abuse, drugs, sexual assault, and sex work all due to the nature of the job.

Please leave a comment, like, and spread around. It makes me so happy to see people enjoying my work after I am able to get my incessant imagination into a fic.

ENJOY!

Detective Harry Styles had just closed a case on a domestic violence incident that led to a justifiable homicide. Harry couldn’t blame the girl. He had shown up to their house on multiple occasions after neighbors had called on numerous accounts of domestic dispute. He had seen black eyes and busted lips on the poor girl too many times to count; the guy had it coming.

Harry had walked into his favorite pub. It’s open well into the dawn of the morning so if he has a late night, he can still grab a pint at the end of his work day. It was an earlier night for him tonight, so there were a few of the regular patrons and a few new. One particularly piquing his interest.

She was sitting at the bar, laptop propped open with a wine glass set to the side, nearly empty. He was curious as to why someone would want to work in a dingy bar nearing midnight. His feet had a mind of their own, gravitating to this peculiar girl. She threw her head back to finish the liquid in her glass before returning to typing away.

“Odd place to be doing work, don’t you think?” Harry was leaning on the bar, nodding at the tender who was already getting his usual lager. She continued to type, smiling at the screen.

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s more peaceful at the bar than it is at my apartment? That, and I ran out of wine.” She looked up at him owly, “Detective Styles.” She had known who he was because she had followed a few of his cases when she was a newbie at the paper.

Harry thanked the bartender, motioning for him to get the girl another glass of what she was having. “Now, tell me how it happens to be that you know me but I don’t know a beautiful girl like you?”

She ignored the compliment but a blush crept on her cheeks. “I have written about a few of your cases. I’m an investigative reporter for the Tribune. Y/N Y/L/N.” She put her hand out for Harry to shake. He smirked now knowing who she was, having read her articles.

She was creative in her writing yet informative. She wrote as if it were a mystery, giving the information to the reader to have them on their toes. Making the reader have their assumptions and accusations on who they felt the perpetrators were only to blow the reader away with the final sentences of the jaw dropping reveal. Harry was a fan.

“It’s nice to meet you. I read all your work.” Harry took a sip of his pint as Y/L’s wine glass was being topped off. She was sure to save her current work before shutting the laptop to turn towards Harry, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her Chardonnay.

“Is that so? I am a fan of your work as well. You seem to get a good mixture of cases. Helps me keep my job.” She smiled at him before taking another swig and placing her glass on the bar. “Got anything good for me?” She pulled out a notebook and pen looking back up at him with long lashes and expectant eyes.

Harry let out a soft chuckle, letting his head fall forward as he rubs his nose with his knuckle before running his hand in his curly locks. “Nothing I can discuss with you, love. Not before I talk with my captain.”

“No closed cases we can discuss? I know we can’t discuss any open cases but closed cases are public record. What better way to get information on a case than from a reliable source like the lead detective.” She was leaning in closer at this point, resting her head on hand with her elbow now sitting on the bar. She had a devilish smirk growing across her luscious lips.

Harry leaned in closer to her, giving a boyish smile. “And how do you know that love?”

“I have a dual degree in criminal justice and journalism. Need to know the law to write about it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had provided information regarding the case he had closed a few hours prior, where Y/N had agreed that the bastard had it coming. She confirmed that she will only provide the facts in the article and not show her hand on her personal bias against the abuser.

After discussing the case, Harry felt the need to know more about her. He was truly smitten with the writer, only knowing her for a few hours. They finished a few drinks, talking about their personal lives, why they each chose their career. Harry confessed that he feels the need to protect people and bring justice to those who have been hurt and wronged. Y/N telling Harry that she had always loved to write and also felt the need for justice but could never put herself on the front lines.

It was approaching dawn when Y/N remembered she needed to get going home since she had an interview in a few hours. She was in the process of standing when she stumbled slightly, Harry catching her by her elbows.

“Sorry”, she mumbled with a giggle.

“It’s alright, love,” beaming down at her as he helped steady her on her feet, “let me walk you home.”

“Thank you, I only love a few blocks from here.”

She packed up her laptop and Harry offered to carry her messenger bag. They continued to chat along the way to her apartment and he had to confess, the area was a bit noisy and if he remembered correctly, he had been in the area multiple times for cases.

“You live in this area?”

She hummed a “Mhm” with a nod. “All I can afford on my own, really. I know it’s not the best area but it’s not far from the essentials or my office.”

“Darling, I’m around here more often than not for cases. This area is awful!”

She began to smile, “Are you worried about me, H?” Giving him a slow, sleepy blink as they stop in front of her building.

Harry couldn’t lie, he could kiss her right now. She was so soft and sweet looking but he knew that he had just met her tonight and he is a gentleman. And that nickname she gave him made his tummy flutter. “Of course I’m worried about you, living in an unsafe place.”

“I’m a big girl H, can handle myself.” She pulled out the pepper spray from the messenger bag Harry was carrying for her. She also lifted her skirt to show that she had a holster with a knife and the garter holding up her thigh high stockings against her plush skin.

Harry felt dizzy seeing her skin and the knife, slightly concerned that he was turned on by the sight but not enough to deter the shot of electricity going straight to his groin. Harry cleared his throat, giving a nod and handing the messenger bag back to Y/N.

Y/N said her thanks as she readjusted her skirt and took the bag. Walking up the stairs to the front door of the building, she turned to say good night.

“Do you think I would be able to follow you at work sometimes? I would love to see a case from start to finish to write about it.” She was giving him a pleading look with a sweet smile, hoping he would say ‘yes’.

And how could he say no?

He walked up the few steps to her to hand her his card with the precinct address. “Come to the precinct after your interview tomorrow.”

She had nodded before turning to open the door that made an awful screeching noise, causing dogs in the building to bark and their owners to yell at them. Harry made sure that she was safe inside before turning to make his way home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Y/N had been following Harry on cases for a few years, winning awards for a plethora of her articles. Harry was proud to say that he was able to help her along the way. He also couldn’t help how his feelings had grown for the woman sitting on his desk, sipping out of his coffee mug and biting into a bagel from the bag that she had brought to the office for everyone.

“Do you think it was a crime of passion or a mugging gone wrong?” She had asked Harry and his partner, Cam, speaking around the bite of bagel she had just taken.

Harry had to blink a few times to focus on the question and not the beauty brushing off the crumbs from her skirt. “Definitely a crime of passion.”

“What makes you say that?” Taking another sip from Harry’s mug, happy that they both drink their coffee black.

“He was facing the perp, bludgeoned in the face. The perp was pissed.” Harry took the bagel from Y/N’s hand to take a bite of his own before handing it back to her as he stood up to refill his mug with coffee.

“Do you think it was a lover? I mean, he was caught literally with his pants around his ankles.”

Cam was going through the bag to pick his breakfast, “Wouldn't you be pissed and beat the hell out of your man if he was screwing someone else in an alley?”

“Would you? At least you have a man to beat, Cam. Can’t beat him if I don’t have him.” She brushed her hands together to rid the crumbs, raising a brow.

Cam was Harry’s partner for as long as Y/N had been doing tag-a-longs with Harry, making Cam her best friend. Cam looked like a young Lenny Kravitz, too bad he had a husband.

Cam laughed, “I would. But I have also screwed my husband in an alley, so I have been on both sides.”

Y/N had laughed at Cam’s confession, making grabby hands at Harry’s coffee, which he had gladly offered. Their captain walked in informing them of a call for a homicide in an abandoned warehouse, Harry and Cam being the lead detectives. Harry and Cam grabbed their jackets as Y/N grabbed her messenger bag and coat.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cam read the case briefing on the way to the scene. “Two dead females, mid to late twenties, gunshot wounds to the head.” Y/N noticed that a lot of cases similar to this have been popping up. The city was becoming full of dead girls.

Harry made note of the communalities. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were full of drugs and sexually assaulted too. Similar to that case we had just the other day and the one last week.”

They get to the scene and walk into the warehouse. Y/N made sure to stay behind and keep her distance, not wanting to get in the way or contaminate the scene. She had pulled her camera out of her bag, walking around the warehouse to get some pictures.

After Harry and Cam cleared the scene, Harry went to go find Y/N. He had noticed that she was on her way to the crime scene, causing him to smile and shake his head before making his way over. Harry got to her before she could sneak under the tape.

“What do you think you’re doing, love?” He had his arms crossed across his chest with a furrow to his brow and a scowl to his pout. Y/N nearly jumped out of her skin and clutched her camera to her chest.

“Fuck, H! Don’t do that!” She turned to look at Harry, he looked pissed.

“You know you can’t go on the scene.”

“I’m sorry. I just thought that since they are likely all connected it would be a big piece, that maybe getting the word out with some pictures would get you a lead. I’m so sorry, H. I just think that it could be a big break is all.”

How could he say no to her?

She was thinking she could help with her writing and she wanted to assist Harry in closing the case. His face softened and he rolled his head on his neck, lifting the crime scene tape. “Alright love, you know the rules.”

“No faces, no details.” She flashed him a smile as she ducked beneath the tape, her skirt slit rising up to show off her lace panties and garters. Harry knew that her holster was strapped to her thigh as it has been as long as he has known her. He swallowed the lump in his throat when she stood up and adjusted the skirt to cover herself.

She practically skipped to the scene, adjusting her shutter speed and her lense before taking pictures. Harry was watching, heart swelling when she was smiling at the viewfinder at the perfect picture.

“Come on babe, got some place to stop before heading back.” He nodded his head toward the open door for her to follow. Cam had gone with the coroner to follow-up on the bodies.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had stopped at a burger place, ordering way too much food for just himself. Y/N decided to not ask about it, assuming it was for his coworkers. When they drove into an unknown area, Y/N finally asked, “Where are we going?”

Harry just smiled as the pulled up to an empty lot under a bridge, which was a well known area for sex workers known as “The Cherry Pit”. Y/N was confused as to why Harry would go here with her in the car.

Harry parked and grabbed the bags of food before getting out of the car. Y/N stayed in the car, watching the scene unfold.

The girls had all come to see Harry as he was passing the bags out, coming back to the car to get the case of water out of the trunk. He took it back over to the girls, handing out the bottles. Y/N watched as he stood there talking to the girls, a few giving him a hug before he walked back to the car.

Y/N was watching his every move, looking more confused as he didn’t discuss what had just happened, rather reaching for a bag of food for Y/N and himself, him digging right in.

“Care to explain why you are feeding a bunch of hookers?”

“Sex workers.” He swallowed the bite of burger in his mouth, “They prefer sex workers, love. I had noticed one of the girls at the crime scene today was part of this crew so I figured that I would stop and chat. They don’t give information for nothing.” Harry smirked at that and Y/N felt a ping of jealousy course through her on what else Harry has done with them to get information.

Harry noticed that Y/N hadn’t touched her food, looking up at her and noticed the pull to her face. “You alright, baby?”

Both were frozen. In the years that they had known each other, Harry had never called her ‘baby’. Love, darling, babe, but never ‘baby’.

Harry brushed it off by clearing his throat and telling her to “eat up”. He crinkled the burger wrapper and threw it into the bag before turning the ignition, driving her home. Harry made sure to walk her up to her door, like he does every night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was past 2am when Y/N looked at her clock, waking up to knocking at her door. She grumbled as she stumbled to the door. Clad only in an oversized college t-shirt and bare legs, she opened the door to see Harry standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame.

He was a little scruffy on the chin, button up opened, exposing his white tank top that was tucked in his trousers. He looked up at her with his hair falling into his eyes and giving a soft smile. His eyes held his signature tequila glaze.

“Hi love, you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay, H. It’s past two in the morning and I was sleeping.” She rubbed her face with her hands to wake herself up.

“Just gotta make sure you’re safe, baby.” He said it again, but she will blame the alcohol this time. Harry blinked his eyes slowly before opening them to scan her body.

She opened the door, allowing Harry to trudge his heavy limbs into her apartment. This was a regular thing as of late; Harry gets off of work, goes to the pub, shows up at her’s. Harry makes his way to the couch, plopping down before kicking off his boots and placing his gun, cuffs, and badge on the table, slipping off his button up. Y/N was in the kitchen getting Harry water and something to eat.

Y/N walked out with a plate in one hand and water in the other. She thrusted the cup at Harry telling him to drink and placed the plate with the grilled cheese on the arm of the couch. She curled up on the other end, putting a blanket over her lap.

Harry drank his water and ate his sandwich while Y/N was attempting to keep her eyes open. She wanted to make sure he had something in his stomach before she crawled back into bed.

Harry placed his plate and cup on the table, which Y/N promptly got up to put in the sink, getting Harry another glass of water and Tylenol. She handed them to Harry before pulling out a spare pillow and blanket for him to sleep on the couch. Harry stood up to pull off his trousers, attempting to not fall over, while Y/N made up the couch for him.

Y/N tucked him in once he laid down, turning off the light and kissing his forehead before walking back to her room, keeping the door open if he needed anything. Harry laid there, staring at the ceiling, listening to make sure that Y/N was safe and asleep before he dozed off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had gotten off of work early so him and Cam went to the pub, both clad in their off duty clothes. Cam was in a black t-shirt and dark wash jeans while Harry was wearing light washed jeans, a Hawaiian patterned button up with a black zip-up jacket over top. They walked straight up to the bar, leaning on it while waiting for their drinks.

Harry was scanning the pub after him and Cam had a laugh about a terrible joke he had just told. Harry’s eyes land on her, across the bar with a group of friends. Y/N was standing by the table, clad in a black dress that fit her way too perfectly and a pair of heels that made her legs go on for days. He couldn’t help but stare.

Cam looked over his shoulder seeing what had caught Harry’s attention. “Shall I grab you a rag for that chin of your’s Styles?”

“Oh, fuck off!”

Cam let out a laugh and noticed that Y/N had made her way over. “Good evening boys! Nice to see you when there isn’t a dead body present. What are we having?”

She was drunk. Harry could see it in her eyes, he knows that look all too well since he has that look more often than not as of late. It looked good on her, it gave her a glow.

“Whatever you want sweetheart.” Harry knows that voice, he hears it frequently. The three of them turn to see the intruder in their bubble.

Jeremy Williams, Action News Reporter, stood there giving an overly bleached smile. “Can I get you a drink sweetheart?”

Y/N looked like a fish out of water with her mouth gaping. Jeremy was well known by all reporters so the fact that he was offering to get her a drink was a big deal. She had nodded to give him permission to order her a spirit.

Harry didn’t like this guy in the first place and now that he is talking to Y/N, he really doesn’t like him. He is making her laugh and she is leaning into him. He hates this guy. She is touching his arm before she reaches for her drink. He loathes this guy.

“If looks could kill, Styles.” Cam muttered into his glass before taking a swig. Harry looked at Cam before downing the rest of his drink, quickly ordering another one while he watches on. He noticed that Jeremy is getting closer as Y/N is trying to move away. Jeremy’s hand was on her waist and she had pushed it away, multiple times.

Harry couldn’t help but make his way over to them. When he got there, Y/N was making an effort to push Jeremy away. Harry gripped the back of his shirt to pull him away from Y/N, twisting his arm behind his back, slamming his face to the bar.

“The lady clearly doesn’t want you touching her. If you lay another hand on her, I will break it. Got it?”

“Alright! Alright! I got it!” Getting out of Harry’s grip before walking out of the pub.

“You alright, baby?” Checking over her to make sure there was no blemish on her perfect skin.

“H, I’m fine I was handling it.” She was stumbling, clearly intoxicated. Harry had a grip on her waist and she leaned in closer to him, hands resting on his chest.

“You’re drunk, love.”

“So are you.” She looked up at him while flicking his chin with her pointer finger. “Get me a drink, H.”

How could he say no?

A few drinks later, they are utterly plastered. Harry walked her home from the pub, arm wrapped around her for both of their stability.

Harry walked her to her door where she fumbled with her key, it dropping multiple times. She had bent over to pick up the keys, unintentionally pushing her plump bum into his groin. She popped up when she heard a groan fall from Harry’s lips. She turned around showing her keys with a drunken triumphant smile.

She fell against the door and Harry quickly wrapped his hands on her hips to prevent her from falling but it was too late since she had hit her head on the door. She let out a giggle followed by an “ow” and a pout grew across her face.

Harry put his hand on the back of her head to rub where she had hit. As he looked down at her then leaned down to place a kiss on her lips.

Her lips molded with his, her hands on his chest, tugging at his jacket. Harry pressed his body to her’s and he began to kiss down her cheek, jaw, and neck. She was gasping for air.

“H… H, we need to stop.”

“No, baby. Please? Just… please?” He continued to kiss along her neck as she was tugging at his hair, making him let out a groan.

“Harry, not like this. We’re drunk. I don’t want us like this.” She pushed him away, kissing him gently before she unlocked her door. “Good night, H.” Closing the door behind her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry walked into his apartment, slamming the door before walking to his refrigerator to grab a beer. He popped it open, taking a swig before walking to his living room. He clicked on the TV as he set the beer on the coffee table. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his jacket and Hawaiian shirt, leaving him in his jeans and white tank top.

Action News started to play, Jeremy’s face showing on his screen. Harry grumbled “prick” before taking another drink of his beer. Harry got increasingly annoyed, frustrated, and drunk as he continued to watch the news.

Harry turned off the TV with a huff, finishing his beer. He gave an agonizing, pitiful groan out of frustration. He could only think of one way that he could get the tension out of his body.

He grabbed his laptop to pull up Pornhub, looking at the thumbnails with none piquing his interests. He let the cursor hover a few of the videos to get a preview. He finally stumbled upon a video that looked like it would do the job.

Harry hit the play button, making the video full screen. While the ad began to play, he undid his belt and pushed his jeans and briefs down his thighs. He had pumped some of his hand lotion that he keeps on the side table into his right palm while his left hand pushed up his tank top.

The video began as Harry warmed up the lotion in his palm and between his fingers. The girl in the video had been bent over with the POV actor playing with her ass, giving a few spanks and gropes. When she looked over her shoulder all he could see was Y/N.

His mind began to wander as he began to stroke himself, thinking of Y/N bent over while he gave her a good spanking. The next scene was a shot of him entering the girl from behind, stretching her to the brink. Harry wanted to spread Y/N open, making her moan out like the girl in the video. He knew that the actress was being over dramatic, knowing that Y/N’s sounds would make him crumble.

Harry’s toes curled into his throw rug now that all he can see is Y/N in the video. She is now on her back with her tits bouncing while he rams into her. He thinks of her mewls as his fist begins to pump faster.

When Harry opens his eyes from his little fantasy, the girl on the screen is riding the man with his hand around her throat. Harry’s hand around Y/N’s throat would be the most beautiful sight he would ever see. Her eyes rolling to the back of her head, moaning out his name, pulsing around his cock.

It was all too much for Harry. His hand stroking furiously as he imagined the face she would make as she was cumming around his cock, the pulsing, the moans. Harry had been moaning the whole time he had been stroking himself but now he was shameless. His back was arching and his head thrown back as he let out a loud moan, cumming all over his stomach, painting his laurels, butterfly, and the trail of pubic hair.

He was panting and sweating and the video wasn’t even done yet. Harry had never felt so light headed from masturbating, muttering a “holy shit”, all because he was thinking of her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Y/N had already been at the precinct when Harry walked in. She was sitting on his desk, sipping from his mug, as if nothing had happened the night prior. She smiled up at him with a “Morning, H”, like any other day. Maybe she was so drunk she forgot about their kiss, now thankful that they didn’t take it further if that was the case.

“Morning, love.”

He took the mug from her hand and took his first sip looking at her while doing so, smiling when he handed it back. Maybe he forgot about last night. Either that or he was really good at covering up because she feels that she is being obvious, looking at his lips and tensing up when their hands touch when passing the mug.

They had gone over the cases that seem to have connections with these girls. There are a few leads but nothing strong enough for a conviction.

“There is Julian Michaels, a 34 year old white male. Works in the stock market, no wife, no children, likes his girls young. Word on the street is he keeps the books.” Harry had taped his picture to the board as Y/N was writing this all down.

Cam grabbed another picture and posted it on the board next to Julian’s. “This is Marcus Stevens. Young one, 23 years old, Black kid. Has been seen around The Cherry Pit and multiple clubs. We think that he is the recruiter for these girls.”

“And last but not least, Eddy O’Reilly, 32 year old Irish American. The kingpin, the leader of all this mess. Multiple statements have been made placing O’Reilly in the area of the murders on multiple occasions. History of muling drugs across the border, history of incarcerations for possession and distribution, prostitution, and sexual assault. If we get this bastard, we finish this.” Harry was staring at his mug shot that was now posted in the center of the board.

The captain walked in with their case for the day. Another dead girl was found by the river, same MO as the other girls that have been popping up on their radar. Harry knew this girl from The Cherry Pit, being one of the younger girls.

Harry was squating by her body, ran his hand over his face before resting his hand on his mouth. He stood up and walked to Y/N, who was looking up at him expectantly. She could sense something was wrong.

Harry huffed out a puff of air before resting his hands on his hips. “I knew this one.”

Her eyes went wide, reaching up to hold his jaw in her hands, “Oh my god, H. Are you okay?”

He looked down at her before wrapping his arms around her in a hug, “She was just 18. Little sister of Kerry’s at The Pit.”

Y/N was rubbing her hands on Harry’s back looking over his shoulder to look at the girl, she had remembered her.

There have been too many girls being found around the city. All with a gunshot to the head, drugs in their system, and a recent sexual assault. Y/N had lost the body count but she thinks that it is way past the teens. Something needed to be done.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Y/N went through the drive thru Harry frequents on his way to The Cherry Pit. As she had approached The Pit, she parked away from where the girls were. She was in jeans with a vneck t-shirt and her leather jacket, making sure that her knife was in her boot before exiting the car.

Y/N slowly made her way to the group of girls standing together, most dispersing. Kerry lingering a little before starting to walk away.

“Hey, um , Kerry? Can I chat with you? I brought you a veggie burger.” She held the bag up as a truce. Kerry made her way back to Y/N and reached for the bag.

“I first want to apologize about your sister. It must be hard on you.”

“Yeah. She got into some dumb shit so honestly I’m not surprised but I should have protected her more. She was so young, should have never brought her here but we need the money.”

“No one is blaming you Kerry, shit happens. I’m just sorry it happened to you. I want to help.”

“What is a pretty little reporter like you going to do?”

“My job. I’m going to get the information and figure out who is killing all these girls. That’s why I came here. I was hoping either you or some of the girls would have some information.”

“Harry had already stopped here and talked to us. Not sure what else we could give you.”

“You said your sister got into something that you’re not into. What was it that she was doing?”

Kerry had taken a few fries into her mouth, “She got hired for parties. Some dealers would get together to push product and hire girls to help. The girls always had to fuck these guys but Gena said that it was good money. After seeing her all bruised up and high off her ass all the time, I told her to stop and stay here with me but she said the money was too good. Now look what happened.” Kerry began to get tearful, picking at her burger.

Y/N was rubbing Kerry’s back, letting her cry and grieve the loss of her sister. Y/N got an idea while she was comforting her.

“Do you know how I could get into one of those parties?”

Kerry looked up with a hint of fear as well as the tears still in her eyes and gave Y/N a nod.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Y/N was in a tight number, showing more skin than she ever had. Her hair and makeup was done up and she made sure her holster was secure before putting on her agonizingly high heels. After getting ready, Y/N went to the address on the slip on paper Kerry had given to her.

She knocked on the door, giving the password to the man guarding before she was escorted to a room. The room was full of girls, no more than 25 years old. Most of them looked younger than 18. A few huddled together, Y/N gave them all a once over. Most, if not all, had marks and bruises and looked like they were crashing from a high. Y/N took a seat off to the side alone, trying to take in as much as possible.

Two men walked in to tell the girls to get up. They all stood in a row while these men blind folded them. Y/N’s hand was hovering over her thigh but she wanted to get more information before she made any rash decisions.

Two hands gripped her shoulders to guide her as she felt his breath on her neck, one of the men muttering “fresh meat”. Another man laughed before saying, “O’Reilly and Michaels will like this one.” A shiver went through her thinking that she might be put in front of the two men Harry and Cam had been hunting down.

She heard one of the girls scream before hearing a slap and a thud, causing Y/N to jump. “You do as I tell you bitch, got it? Or you’ll have it worse.” She could hear the girl fumble to get up and then they were all pushed outside, shoved into what seemed like a van.

The van had stopped and the girls were filed out. She knew when she was inside the building because of the heat and the music. The blind folds were taken off and all the girls were handed shots of a clear liquid. Y/N had hesitated until one of the men gave her a look and started walking towards her. She downed the shot which she now knew was a cheap tequila.

The girls dispersed, walking all in different directions. Some went straight to men, others to the stash of drugs on the table. Y/N decided to walk further into the house. As she was walking, she felt her hands and feet start to go numb, her vision became slightly blurry but she was able to shake off for the moment.

She was stopped with a grip to her wrist and when she had turned, there was Julian holding on to her. “Well, look at you. You must be new.”

Y/N couldn’t find her words. Her tongue felt heavy and her vision was getting more blurred. She nodded at him before leaning against the wall for support. Julian surrounded her with himself. “You alright, babe? Look like you need to lay down.” Julian’s hands were running down her sides before gripping her hips and around to her bum. She gave a weak attempt at a push considering she’s not sure how her arms work at this point.

“Bathroom. Need a bathroom.” She stumbled out of Julian’s grip, somehow finding the bathroom but not before she saw O’Reilly in a room surrounded by men. She stood for a moment, trying to clear her vision to confirm it was him. He looked up at her with a sinister smile and she knew that was the guy.

Y/N quickly stumbled into the bathroom, immediately tumbling to the floor. She made sure to lock the door before reaching for her phone in her bra.

“Hi love, you alright?”

An incoherent call of Harry’s name had him in a panic. “Baby, where are you? Are you okay?”

A mumble of “They're here, Michaels and O’Reilly. I saw them.”

“Fuck baby! What did you do?! Where are you?! I’m on my way with the squad but you need to tell me where you are okay? Baby, please!”

She was silent as Harry grabbed his jacket and told everyone at the precinct they need to go, get squad cars, and to follow him. Harry was frantic.

“Baby come on, please?! Where are you?! Drop me a pin, talk to me! Fuck! Just tell me you are okay!”

Still nothing. Then a notification popped up saying that Y/N had dropped a pin of her location. He let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you baby. Please, stay on the line with me okay? We are on our way.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The police barged into the house, knocking down the front door, causing everyone to scatter. The police collected who they could. Cam grabbed Julian while their captain got O’Reilly, Harry was frantically looking around for Y/N.

He couldn’t find her, causing him to pull at his hair and grabbing anyone he could at the party, demanding them to tell him where she was. He noticed the bathroom door was shut so he went to open it, seeing it was locked. He knew she was in there.

Harry stepped back to get some leverage before putting all his strength into kicking down the door. He saw Y/N laying on the floor passed out with her phone in hand. Her hair was covering her face and the skirt of her dress had ridden up.

He quickly collected her into his arms to sit her on his lap in front of the toilet, quickly shoving his middle and forefinger down her throat. She automatically started retching, the contents of her stomach spilling into the toilet as Harry held her hair and rubbed her back.

“Let it all out baby. That’s it. You’ll feel better soon.”

The captain came in with a bottle of water and a cold wet cloth that Harry promptly put on the back of Y/N’s neck. Opening the bottle for her to have a few sips. Harry pushed her hair out of her face, reminding her to take it slow.

She had tears in her eyes, her makeup was smudged and running. She let out a croak before Harry shook his head. “I’m taking you home and you’re going to stay with me tonight. Need to keep an eye on you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had his jacket around Y/N’s shoulders as they were getting out of his car. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder while guiding her up the stairs. Y/N still not feeling completely clear followed Harry into his apartment. She stood in the entryway, tears threatening to fall, while she watched Harry walk in and turn on the lights.

His place was modern with nothing showing personality. Harry always showed up to her place in the middle of the night, so she had never been to Harry’s. Now she sees why he always comes to her; his place was cold and lonely.

Harry walked back to her with a glass of water and a hand out to help guide her to his bedroom. He sat her down on the bed and got out one of his police department crew neck sweatshirts and a pair of boxers. He went into the ensuite to turn on the shower and lay out some towels, all doing so without saying a word.

Y/N knew he was pissed. What she had done was reckless and she put herself and everyone else at that party at risk if she were to be found out. She knows that he is probably more pissed that she didn’t tell him or run it by him before she jumped the gun so that he could make sure to be there so that she is safe. She watched him as the tears finally fell down her cheeks. He was avoiding looking at her. That was the worst part of her night, and she was drugged and groped at.

Harry nodded his head to the shower while he leaned against his dresser, arms and legs crossed while he looked at the floor. Y/N got up and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door before she stripped down her clothes and her walls. She started to sob as the water ran over her body, attempting to wash away that icky feeling she was having. She took her time, trying to avoid the inevitable confrontation that she will be having the moment she walks out of the bathroom. She dried off before she put on the clothes Harry had left her, noticing that there was a toothbrush for her. Gladly brushing her teeth before tying her wet hair up into a bun at the crown of her head.

She walked out and there was a plate of food and more water waiting for her on Harry's bedside table. Harry walked back into the room with his sweatpants on and a plain white t-shirt. He looked exhausted with a furrow still in his brow.

“What were you thinking?” He was soft in his delivery and a flood of worry took over Harry’s face. “You could have been killed. Do you understand that? If they would have found out who you were…” He was pulling at his hair and letting out a huff. “Fuck baby, I would be a mess. I wouldn’t know what I would have done if… I wasn’t there to protect you.”

Y/N had been curled up at the head of Harry's bed, tears freely flowing as her actions and the events of the night had hit her, how she had made Harry feel. “H… I am so sorry! I wasn’t thinking… I just wanted to help!” She let the sobs wreck through her body as Harry was making his way to her. He grabbed her face and quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. She let herself curl into him, climbing on his lap and letting him hold her. He rocked her gently as they were both crying.

Harry was kissing at her temple as he whispered, “We got them, thanks to you.” She had let out a sigh of relief, glad that this would all be over.

“I didn’t see Marcus there…”

“He came to the precinct willingly and made a deal with the DA.” He continued to kiss her head and rub her sides while continuously rocking her.

“There were so many girls there. Most were under 18, H. They are just kids.” She let another sob past her lips as she grabbed at his shirt.

“They are safe now baby, home where they belong. Just like you, because of you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Y/N woke up when the light filtered through Harry’s blinds. She was laying on his chest, his arm wrapped protectively around her. She looked up at Harry, whose scruff is growing a little more and his curls flattening to his head from his night’s rest. She pushed back what hair had been on his forehead, Harry leaning into the touch. She smiled before she nuzzled back to his chest, feeling Harry’s lips on her forehead.

“Did you sleep alright?” She let out a hum while nodding on his chest. She felt a flood of emotions start to resurface and she gripped Harry tighter to her. Harry noticed and quickly reached his hand to caress her face, pulling her closer to him. “It’s okay baby, I’m here.”

She took a deep breath to try and ground herself, focusing on Harry's breathing, relaxing back into him. He held her tight, making her feel safe. That’s all Harry wanted, to make her feel safe.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had been checking up on Y/N every night since the night she stayed with him. It had been over two weeks and Y/N had to admit that her feelings for Harry had become stronger. She looked forward to Harry stopping by her place every night and was hoping that he would make a move on her because the tension was getting unbearable.

Harry had stopped by tonight with Chinese in hand and a bottle of wine. She had a movie queued up on the TV awaiting his arrival. He was still in his suit from work, all grey with only a white tank top under his suit jacket. His hair flopped over to the side and his stubble ever present.

She had been in her sleep shorts and tank top under Harry’s police sweatshirt that he had let her wear a few weeks prior. Harry let himself in and made his way to the kitchen to plate up their Chinese.

After eating their food, Harry had pulled Y/N to cuddle into his side while they finished the movie. They were sharing a glass of wine, similar to how they share Harry’s mug every morning. Harry pulled her legs across his lap, gently rubbing up and down her calves and thighs.

His fingers felt nice on her skin; warm, palms were soft while the tips had a grit to them. She cuddled closer, pulling his arm tighter around her. She nosed his cheek before giving it a sweet kiss. She kissed again before kissing his jaw then kissing his sweet spot just below his ear. His hand tensed on her thigh and she gave it another peck.

“Thank you, H. For checking up on me, for protecting me, for saving me.” She looked up at him, holding his jaw before leaning in to give him a kiss. He pulled her closer and she deepened the kiss, his hand trailing to her bum to pull her as close as he could in the position they were in.

Y/N quickly got uncomfortable, moving to straddle his lap to get in a more comfortable position where they could kiss and be close. She put her hands into his hair, pulling him into a deep, searing kiss.

Harry had begun to run his hands up her body, under the sweatshirt and tank top. He kept one hand on her lower back to keep her close while his other hand trailed up and down her spine before rubbing up and down her thigh. She started to kiss along his jaw again, making her way to his weakness.

She gave a lick below his ear before pulling the skin between her lips. Harry let out a moan as his hips thrusted up to meet hers. She gladly met his with a roll of her own.

“Baby…” Harry was panting as her lips began to trail down his throat. She was untucking his tank top, pulling it over his head. She let her eyes and hands trail his body while her hips continued to roll against him. She pulled off the sweatshirt, leaving her in her thin tank top and sleep shorts.

Harry let his hands caress her chest, rubbing her nipples until they peaked. He pulled a nipple into his mouth through her top, causing her to throw her head back. Her nails were digging into his shoulder as Harry sunk his teeth into the plush of her chest.

“H, fuck… I need you. God… please, just... touch me, fuck me. Do anything...please.”

Harry looked up at her with lustful eyes and his hands continued to roam her dips and valleys. He gripped behind her knees to wrap them around his waist before he stood up. He continued to kiss along her skin. Gripping her ass as he walked her to the bedroom.

He laid her down on the bed, kissing all of her exposed skin before he stood up to take off his trousers. As he was about to crawl over to her, she pushed him to sit against the headboard. She straddled his lap again, pulling her own shirt off, exposing her chest fully to Harry. She took Harry’s hands and put them on her chest, placing her hands over his to make him squeeze. Y/N let her head roll back and let her hips take control.

“Baby, you keep doing that, I’m not going to last.” He was watching her every move, his breath heavy and fast as she did a final roll of her hips before she stood up to take off her shorts. She climbed back on top of him, grabbing his shoulder for stability. She had gripped his length, causing Harry to roll his head back and let out a moan. She rolled her wet folds over his scorching length, both moaning out at how wet she was and how easily he slid against her.

Harry gripped her hips causing her to stop. “Baby, I’m serious, I’m gonna cum.” He was whimpering and gave Y/N a pleading look.

She lined up the head of his cock to her entrance before she fully sank down, taking all of him in one thrust. Harry let out a roaring moan, causing Y/N to grip the headboard with one hand and scratching his shoulder with the other.

Y/N was shameless in her movements, truly fucking Harry into oblivion, causing the bed to rattle and squeak with her rapid movements up and down his cock. He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t last long, especially with the noises they were making, both loud with their moans.

“Fuck, Harry. Shit!” He could feel her pulsing around him, knowing she was close. Harry was trying his hardest to hold on for her but it was getting harder for him, especially when she leaned back, resting her hands on Harry’s knees, exposing her front fully to Harry. Harry pulled her nipple into his mouth as he lifted his knees to pull her closer.

Harry had let go first, cumming inside of her, letting her use him to get herself off. She wasn’t far behind Harry after she felt him pulsing against her inner walls. Harry had pulled her close, kissing any skin his lips could touch before resting his chin in her collar.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Y/N had let out a giggle and pushed his hair back, causing him to softly close his eyes with his head tipped back before looking back up to her.

“No need to be sorry, H. We have both waited way too long for that. I’m honestly surprised I lasted as long as I did.”

Harry continued to kiss her skin, quickly sweeping her up, causing her to squeal out as he walked them into her bathroom to join in the shower, both giggling and kissing along the way.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry and Y/N had been walking into the precinct together for the last few days, also leaving together every day. Harry had been staying with Y/N every night since they had slept together.

Harry had his fingers laced between Y/N’s, giving her a peck before moving to fill his mug for them. Cam leaned forward on his desk watching Y/N smile as she watched Harry.

“Well aren’t you two just the cutest!” Y/N looked over her shoulder giving Cam a wink. Cam was beaming as Harry walked over, handing the mug to his girl before giving her a kiss. Cam felt like he could squeal with giddiness, shipping them since day one.

Harry sat in his chair at his desk, pulling Y/N closer to him by the back of the knee, taking her heel off to massage her stocking covered foot. He kissed her knee, causing her to giggle before taking a sip of coffee. Y/N saw the case files on Harry’s desk that had been placed there that morning by the captain. She grabbed the files, reading them aloud for Harry and Cam.

After reading the cases, they were on their way for a day's work. Y/N had to leave early to conduct an interview with a survivor of a mass shooting. She had kissed Harry goodbye, promising to make him dinner when he got home that night. Harry smiled into the kiss, pursing his lips again to smear a soft kiss back on to hers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She had stopped by the local store to grab the ingredients for chicken carbonara and a bottle of wine, she even grabbed a bouquet of flowers to place in the center of the table. Y/N put a Spotify playlist on her TV as background while puttering around her apartment and cooking dinner. Harry had walked in when she was finishing up plating the dinner.

Harry had quickly taken over, setting up the table and pouring their glasses of wine, pulling out the chair for Y/N. He had pulled her foot up to rest on his lap while they ate their dinner. Harry had talked about his cases that he had handled that day while Y/N discussed her interview.

They worked together to clean up after dinner, refilling their glasses of wine before cuddling on the couch to watch some reruns.

Harry began to give her soft kisses before he laid her down on her back. She began to run her hands through his hair, humming when Harry began to kiss down her neck.

“Move in with me.”

Harry froze his movements, kissing her cheek and looked her in the eyes. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course I mean it. You’re here more often than not and I need you to protect me.” She continued to play with his hair, causing him to melt into her palm and softly close his eyes. Y/N had kissed the tip of his nose before giving him a soft kiss to his lips. “What do you say, handsome?”

How could he say no?

“Of course baby, I would love to.” He began to kiss her again, making her giggle as he pressed quick, continuous kisses to her lips. Harry had quickly sat up, throwing his girl over his shoulder to carry her to her, no, their bed. He threw her on their bed, causing her to laugh out when she landed, making a smile grow across Harry's face.

Harry crawled between her legs and continued to assault her with kisses all over. He started to push up her skirt, exposing her garters and holster. Harry had undone the holster, kissing the now exposed skin where it was resting as he placed it on the nightstand. Harry then unclasped the garters that were holding up her stockings, rolling them slowly down each of her legs, continuing to leave marks from his wet lips in their wake.

Y/N began to undo her own top as she watched Harry undo his. She had shimmied to the top of the bed as she was taking off her skirt. Harry had taken his badge, gun, and cuffs off of his belt, setting them on the side table before taking his own pants off.

She laid down for him as he straddled her hips. Her hands were tracing his pecs and sides, moving to his back to trail down his spine before digging her fingers into the dimples of his lower back.

Harry watched her as she was admiring him, looking down and admiring her as well. He started to kiss her collars and chest, gripping her thighs in his palms. Y/N turned her head to allow him more access. She opened her eyes and saw the side table.

“Harry…”

“Mmm, what baby?” He continued to kiss her chest, unclasping her bra.

“I want you to use the cuffs.” Harry looked up at her, wide eyed and mouth gaping, his lips slick and plump. He looked over to the side table to see where the cuffs were glistening in the moonlight.

“You want me to cuff you baby?” She was looking down at him, biting her lip with a nod.

“Please?” She was already lifting her hands above her head for him.

How could he say no?

He sat up on his knees as he reached for the cuffs, warming them in his hands. He took her right wrist into his palm, kissing the inner flesh before placing the cuff around the delicate skin. “Tell me if it’s too tight or uncomfortable, okay baby?”

“I will H, no worries.” She smiled up at him as he leaned over to thread the cuffs through the headboard before kissing and placing her left wrist in the cuff. Y/N gave a tug for good measure.

Harry kissed down her arm before he planted a kiss on her lips. She pulled his lower lip between her teeth, causing him to hiss before she let go, placing a kiss on it. Harry continued to kiss his way down her body, watching her squirm with how gentle he is being.

He started to kiss her mound through her lacy panties, letting his tongue dampen the fabric. He continued his motions lower until he was laying on his belly with his face focused on her center. He gave gentle kisses to her thighs before he let his lips and tongue explore her core through her panties.

Harry heard the chain of the cuffs rattle as his girl began to whimper. He continued to take his time with her through her panties. She moaned when she felt his fingers graze her center, pulling her panties to the side for Harry to gain full access.

Once she was fully exposed to him, he was insatiable. He was moaning into her, gripping her hips to bury himself deeper. She could hear him lapping and sucking on her, the feeling of his admiration making her light headed and dizzy. He made sure to kiss, lick, and suck on every inch of her, leaving her dripping for him just so that he could lap up her slickness.

Y/N was pulling hard on the cuffs and her moans increased in volume. She was so close to tipping over the edge that it was almost too much to handle. Almost.

Harry pulled her clit into his mouth one final time, being sure to flick the tip of his tongue against it.

“Fuck! Harry! Oh, God!” She was crying from the overwhelming orgasm that had wrecked through her. Her thighs clamping around Harry’s head and her nails biting into her palms.

Harry had to use his strength to get his head out of the vice grip, giggling when he looked up at his girl who was completely fucked out. Y/N moaned when she saw Harry sitting up on his knees with his face completely slick with her.

“Well fuck, Harry.” She was still panting, baby hairs sticking to her face, chest and cheeks flushed.

Harry began to spread her legs open again, looking at the work of art he had helped create. Lips slick, mound bruised with love bites, her whole center swollen and flushed with arousal. He used his thumb to trace up her slit, collecting her slickness before gently rolling her clit. He knew she was sensitive, giving him a hiss when he reached her overly sensitive nub. It was obvious that she liked it because her legs spread wider for him.

He leaned forward to hover over her, bringing his now slick thumb to brush across her lips. She gladly opened her mouth and took his thumb between her lips to suck off her juices. Humming around his thumb, she looked up at him with blissful eyes.

Harry pulled his thumb out of her mouth, smearing it against her lower lip before latching his lips to hers. He rolled his hips into hers as he continued massaging her tongue with his. He reached his hands up to the cuffs and massaged her wrists with his thumbs.

“You alright baby? Want them off?”

“I’m okay, keep them on.” She thrusted her hips up into him, “I like it.”

His hands roamed down her arms from her wrists, grazing her sides and massaging her plush hips before he reached for her spine to pull her panties down by grabbing the elastic on her lower back.

Y/N lifted her hips up for him and watched as he admired her body. This certainly isn’t the first time that they have been intimate but Harry always makes it feel that way.

“I’m so lucky to finally call you my girl. I’ve wanted to for so long. You have no idea how happy I am, baby.” He was running his hands up and down the front of her thighs that he was settled between. “I love you so much.”

Y/N began to smile up at him, turning her head into her arm to hide her blush.

“Gonna tell me that you love me when I’m all tied up for you?” She pushed her knee into his side as she giggled, biting her lip.

“I’ll tell you every day, and in every position, how much I love you.” He leaned down to smear his lips against hers again, showing her how much he truly loved her.

“I love you too, H.”

Harry began to kiss her jaw and neck as he stripped his briefs off of himself. He held her face in his hand before trailing it down her body to pump himself a few times before lining his tip to her center. She angled her hips up for him, giving him a cheeky smile when their eyes connected.

He slowly entered her, causing them both to moan out. He leaned on his forearm that was resting by her arm, continuing to rub his thumb across her cuffed wrist. He was slowly rolling his hips against hers, causing her to whimper at the friction.

Y/N eyes closed softly, like she was just starting to fall asleep. Her mouth was agape letting soft pants and whimpers fall free from her lips. She tipped her head back into the pillow, stretching out her neck. He was in awe watching her.

Harry’s free hand roamed her flesh, ending on her jaw. His thumb ran across her flushed throat as he began to kiss along the tight skin.

“Harry…” her body was like a magnet to his, naturally wanting to be close. “Harry, please?”

“Mmm what, baby? What do you need?” He continued to kiss along her skin.

“Choke me.” Y/N, always surprising him. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, “Please?”

How could he ever say no to her?

He gave her a nod, gently moving his hand to cup her throat. “Tell me if it’s too much, if you want me to stop.”

“I will.” She took in a deep breath as his grip tightened slightly. She let out a moan as he adjusted his fingers and tightened a little more. A smile crawled across her face as Harry began to thrust into her harder.

“You like this baby?”

Y/N moaned out a ‘yes’ as Harry picked up the pace of his hips. Thrusting into her that the bed was moving and squeaking on its frame.

Harry felt her pulse around him, causing him to moan her name before gripping tighter on her throat and thrusting at an uneven pace.

She gasped at the grip, tightening her thighs around Harry, pulling him closer by digging her heel into the flesh of his bum. She choked out his name and he felt her walls give a tight clench around him before they continued to pulse.

He let go of her throat causing her pent up moans to spew from her lips. He couldn’t hold back any more, freezing his hips flushed to hers to spill himself into her. He held her face, moaning as he kissed her. The metal of the cuffs clank against the headboard as she tried to wrap her arms around him.

Y/N whined, tugging some more causing Harry to giggle. Harry reached up to uncuff her and rubbed her wrists as he kissed them. He looked down at her glowing flushed face, planting another kiss on her lips. “I love you, baby.” Kissing her again.

“I love you too.” They had adjusted in the bed to cuddle, making the bed groan and squeak in their movements. Causing Y/N to laugh out and Harry to let out a frustrated groan.

“We need a new bed.” Y/N couldn’t stop laughing, rolling off of Harry which caused the bed to creak again, only adding fuel to the fire of Y/N’s laughter.

Harry kissed her with a laugh himself, “We are definitely getting a new bed”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cam and his husband had helped Y/N and Harry move into their new place in a better part of town. They were all exchanging bum taps and boxes as they went up and down the stairs from the moving truck. They were on their last load when Harry and Cam’s husband started to put together the frame to their new bed.

Cam and Y/N went to go pick up beer and pizza, setting it all up in the middle of their empty living room. Harry laid his head in Y/N’s lap as they ate and laughed at stories they all shared.

Cam and his husband kissed and hugged Y/N and Harry goodbye as they thanked them for all their help. Harry had kicked the door shut, locking it and turning to Y/N with a devious smile. Her eyes went wide as Harry gripped her waist to throw her over his shoulder, letting out a yelp.

“Time to go break in that new bed, baby!”

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