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#and believe me i was SO so so so confident that even if i wasn't expecting a 10 i wpuld get an 8
tpwk-formula1 · 1 day
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Lando, Sicilian Crust, Red Sauce, Pepperoni, Tomatoes, Mushrooms, Coke, Root beer, Lemonade, Sparkling Water.
But the scenario is the readers got thick thighs, and she’s a little chubby (coming from a chubby girl🥹), she’s constantly talking down on her self and insecure. And lando won’t have it, so he is desperate to make her feel better about herself. (Make sex in front of a mirror?) 
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Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
sicilian dating red sauce rough sex pepperoni "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" mushrooms "Wrong, wanna try again" coke spanking root beer daddy kink lemonade body worship sparkling water spitting dessert yes served by Lando Norris
AN - Omg yay! I loved getting this request as I am also a fellow chubby girl! If anyone else has plus size requests please send them in as I am passionate about wanting there to be representation for everyone <3 Lee-Lee
TW - spanking, spitting into mouth, blow job, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, some degrading terms, body worship and appreciation
WC
Y/N POV
I groan again while staring into the mirror. I knew I wasn't the ideal wag and I will never understand why Lando had picked me. The reflection in the mirror showed me a girl with thighs that touched, wide-set hips, and a belly that most people made sure to point out in the comment section of any photos released of me.
I stare a few more seconds before I start pinching at my sides trying to see how soft they had grown over the past few months. I feel the tears well in my eyes when I realize nothing is changing. I had tried dieting but then after a few weeks and a couple pounds down I find myself giving up again.
I'm so lost in my own world of self-hatred I don't hear Lando come home and I sure as hell don't hear him come into the bathroom leaving again the door frame with his arms crossed.
"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lando suddenly announces making me jump slightly and wrap my arms around my body to try and hide still embarrassed at being caught.
"Lando, I- I was just getting ready for the day," I lie softly not even believing myself. Lando raises a brow at me before approaching making me step back slightly. When Lando reaches me he softly removes my arms from my body just eying me up and down. I feel myself growing red in embarrassment not enjoying the feeling of his eyes on my bare body.
Wordlessly Lando takes my hips into his hands gently squeezing them before turning me towards the mirror so I can stare at myself. With Lando standing behind my I feel his arms wrapped around my hips while starting to trail his hands up and down in admiration.
"So beautiful," Lando mumbles softly placing a soft kiss on my should. I try my best to keep eye contact with Lando not wanting to see my body against his touch knowing my thighs would dwarf his wandering hands.
"I love you," Lando says softly starting to trail kisses around my shoulders and the back of my neck making my breathing pick up.
"So fucking beautiful," Lando says while pinching my hip softly before rubbing it in a soothing manner.
"Watch yourself in the mirror," Lando says roughly making my eyes instantly snap to where his hand is now wandering up my sides grazes his touch past my stomach roll before settling his hands near my face.
When his fingers graze my lips he mutters a soft beautiful before trailing his hands to my heavy tits giving them a stong squeeze making me gaso.
"These tits are gonna be the death of me one day, so fucking good," Lando says confidently giving one of my nipples a soft flick instantly making it harden.
"And this," Lando started while rubbing my stomach softly making me cringe away from his touch making him drop his hands to his sides and stare at me in the mirror.
"Wrong, wanna try again," Lando says after a moment before bringing his hands back to my stomach this time trying to relax into his touch.
"This stomach you love to pinch and probe at, will one day carry our children. That thought alone makes me hard," Lando says softly making me gasp when he grinds his jean-covered crotch into my thick ass letting me know just the sight of me turned him on.
"I wish you could see yourself through my eyes," Lando adds softly moving his hands down to my thighs giving them a soft rub before landing a soft slap on them making me whine.
"And these fucking thighs! My favorite thing in the world. After a good race, I just wanna burry my face between them, after a bad race I can't wait to get back to the hotel to hide between them and let all my problems away, these are the best thing the Lord could have blessed me with," Lando says softly while rubbing them. He was back to laying soft kisses around my neck before I feel his teeth sink into the side of my neck before leaving a small hickey.
"Oh! And this fucking pussy," Lando says softly digging his fingers through my folds finding them to be coated in a light layer of my juices. Having Lando softly rubbing his hands around my body had definitely turned me on a bit.
"This pussy and the best pussy a man could have. Too bad I will never share it again," Lando says softly before lifting my thigh and resting my foot on the counter so he can burry his fingers into my pussy making me gasp and throw my head back onto Lando's shoulder when he hits my G-spot.
"Feels so good," I whine softly clenching around Lando's fingers before they're ripped out of my pussy leaving me gasping for a breath,
"No daddy," I whine not wanting him to stop.
"Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want. Count them for me," Lando says roughly letting me know he was about to spank me.
The first slap rang out through the room startling me just a bit.
"one" i mumble softly.
"two" I groan a little louder after the second much harsher slap landed on my left ass cheek.
"I love the way your ass shakes when I slap it," Lando said before landing another rough slap on the exact same spot making me scream out softly.
"three," I finally gasp out still trying to catch my breath.
"four," I scream out with the fourth slap lands on the top of my right ass cheek.
"Last one," Lando says softly while rubbing his hand over the last spank he had landed.
"Five, oh my god," I scream while my knees buckle only staying up because of Lando's strong grip. The last one was always the hardest one but today it was so much harder than normal. It knocked the wind out of me in shock.
"Did so good for me. Took your punishment so well baby," Lando says softly turning me around to give me a soft kiss.
"Open," lando says roughly cleaning moving from punishment mode to 'I ned to fuck you right now' mode.
When I part my lips and open my mouth I wait as Lando gather s a bit of spit before spitting right down my throat some hitting my bottom lip making me moan before swallowing.
"Good girl," Lando says before flipping me back to look at myself in the mirror again. Lando was still fully dressed which changed rather quickly cause he started stripping down not having any time to waste.
When I feel Lando poking at my folds I moan softly while pushing my hips back trying to get some kind of stimulation which finally came when Lando roughly sunk down fully into me.
"Oh god," I moan out when his hips hit my sore ass making the the slight burning sensation instantly turn from pain to pleasure.
“It’s too much, daddy,” I moan when Lando speeds up his thrusting making me grip onto the counter harder to make sure I don’t fall.
“Watch the mirror, I want you to see how beautiful you are,” Lando grunts while reaching between our bodies to find my swollen clit to give it a few pinches before rubbing it in circles.
“God, you have the wettest fucking pussy, baby girl,” Lando groans collectiving some on his fingers before bringing his wet fingers to his mouth and cleaning them off while moaning at the flavor.
“You’re fucking delicious baby,” Lando whispers while bringing his fingers back to my clit making me instantly tense around Lando’s cock in anticipation of an orgasm.
“Can I cum,” I moan feeling my orgasm approaching making Lando speed up his actions, and throwing me off the edge and into a knee buckling orgasm as soon as he have me the go ahead.
“Fuck daddy,” I scream out as I feel the peak of my orgasm hit, making the world around me go dark slightly letting my body feel all of the pleasure coursing through my body. Lando helps me ride out the longest orgasm I’ve ever had before softly slipping out of my pussy making me whine from overstimulation.
“On you knees,” Lando grunts making me turn around and drop to my knees and instantly reach for his cock but he pulls away while shaking his head.
“I need you to listen to me real quick,” Lando says making me nod and trail my eyes from his soaked cock up to his eyes to show he has my full attention.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. You have been my best friend our entire relationship and I have loved every aspect of who you are. So I’ll be damned if you hate even the smallest speck on yourself when all I can ever fucking see is perfection,” Lando tells me softly making me smile back at him.
“It’s just hard sometimes. I see the girls who would do anything for even a second of your times. I see the other wags and can’t help but compare. And i see the comments, i know you see them too and while even if I was skinny they would still find a reason to be dicks it’s just hard sometimes,” I tell him softly making him scoff each time I compared myself to someone else but watched as his eyes softened at the mention of the comments.
“All Im saying is I better not come back home to find you pinching your sides or damn near in tears at the sight you see in the mirror,” Lando says back making me nod my head.
“Daddy can I please finish you off now,” I whine getting impatient with staring at his hard cock. Lando just chuckles before stepping closer and leaning down slightly to spit in my mouth again. I savor the flavor this time before swallowing his spit.
When I open my mouth again Lando instantly shoves his cock down my throat making me gag slightly.
“Prettiest fucking slut Ive ever laid eyes on.” Lando groans still on his complimenting run but too lost in the pleasure to not throw in some teasing nicknames.
I feel Lando’s pace start to falter which makes me bob my head faster wanting to keep the same momentum as he starts cumming down my throat.
I do my best to swallow every drop he gives me before he’s slowly pulling out if my mouth. I feel a bit of cum leak down the side of my lips and before I can wipe it away Lando is crashing his lips onto mine now caring about the cum.
“I love you so much! Be nice to yourself,” Lando tells me softly making me nod my head in agreement.
When Lando helps me from the cold ground he draws us a bath. When we both sink into the hot water I can see the stress of the day melt away for Labdo while I i feel all my tense muscles slowly start to relax.
“What triggered it?” Lando asked softly.
“I was getting ready to take a shower and kinda got lost,” i replied back softly making Lando wrap his arms around me a little tighter.
“M’sorry I wasn’t here early to prevent it,” he tells me while leaning down to place a soft kiss on my cheek.
“Wasnt your fault,” I reply back shrugging a little. We both know I would do it again but I also knew it didn’t matter to Lando cause I was always gonna be his girl.
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emeryhiro · 3 days
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Who do you think will likely make the first move if/when Daryl and Carol get together? Is there a fantasy scenario in your head for the big confession scene?
I would be so psyched if AMC and TWD actually goes there.
Hi Anon,
Good question!! I've actually changed my mind so many times about how I think it would happen, even while writing this response. But there are a few details that I've stuck by.
I think Daryl would be the one to initiate a moment like that. And what I mean by a moment is a conversation where everything is finally put out into the open (more on this later). I also know that it would be full of hesitation and fear because, as Norman has said many times before, Daryl is inexperienced and insecure in that area. He doesn't have any "game" and isn't the type to confidently approach something like that.
However, the situations he has faced in France have put him in a position where he starts to feel that he has to initiate something like that, which he may never have been able to do on the main show. I also think that even though Daryl may initiate it, Carol would pick up on his hesitation and intentions, meet him halfway, and probably even take the lead from there.
In my mind, the moment would be full of reassurance and tenderness (both in words and actions) because they would both be overcoming so many insecurities, experiencing a moment they'd been dreaming about for over a decade, and might even be struggling to believe that they're actually in the moment and that it's actually real.
If I had to give you a visual of how I imagine the tone of the moment would play out, I'd say something along the lines of Daemon and Raeynera's confession on the beach in S1EP07 of House of the Dragon (Timestamp 19:47). Here's a part of that scene in case you can't access it through a streaming service.
This scene is full of built-up frustration, hesitation, and tenderness, which is precisely the tone that I imagine for Caryl. Some of the dialogue fits Caryl's circumstances really well as well, with perhaps the roles reversing at certain points (you just gotta ignore the parts about being a child 😅).
In order to explain what I mean a little better, I played around with some of the dialogue (below) from that scene so that it fit Carol and Daryl, and expanded on it a little bit because I think it's vital and necessary for Carol and Daryl to have a conversation like this where they're finally forced to be honest with themselves and each other before anything else can happen between them:
Carol: "I've been alone. You abandoned me."
I imagine this would be Carol confronting Daryl for leaving her behind in the commonwealth and putting his life (and ultimately her life) at risk, and possibly risking never being able to see each other again. This could also be built-up frustration from Daryl's seven years in the woods and how Carol kept asking him to return.
Daryl: "I spared you."
I think this would be Daryl starting to show Carol how he'd always felt that he wasn't good enough for her or that he could ever make her happy, so in his mind he spared her by staying away from her.
Carol: "And look at what my life became without you... Droll tragedy." Daryl: "Oh, and I wonder what you think of mine by comparison?"
This would be the moment they both finally understood that they were wrong to think the other person was better off without them and that, in the end, they'd both been living only half a life without the other.
Carol: "I know little of it..." Daryl: "Did you love him?" Carol: "We were happy enough." Daryl: "Well, that in itself is a great achievement... I am sorry."
These lines could really work for either of them. They're now finally sharing the things that were holding them back, like miscommunication and both thinking that the other was in love and happy with someone else (Carol with Ezekiel, and Daryl with Leah or even Isabelle).
~~~~
Thanks again for your question 🩵 and thank you to everyone who's been taking the time to read all my recent responses and posts. I really hope I've explained myself well here because I get so overwhelmed and excited every time I think about the possibility of Carol and Daryl finally being allowed to be together.
This has been the thing that I've wanted the most for them for over half my life, and to think that it may finally happen is a lot for me to process, so it has been really nice to be able to put some of my thoughts into words in this way.
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chirpsythismorning · 1 year
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Hi.what make you believe byler is endgame and how do you think The Duffer will make them endgame?
There's a lot of different factors for why I believe byler is endgame. If it was only one or two or three or a single digit amount of things, then I'd probably be more skeptical. Instead it's so many things that I don't think I can even quantify with any number?
Long post ahead so queue for later if you must!
I used to ship milkvan back in the day, and that's probably because I watched the show once and fell for the whole boy meets girl trope as peak romance, without even thinking about it? Like my first time rewatching the show pre-s3, I remember only focusing on their scenes and even going as far as to skip entire episodes in s2 without them in it, so it's really no wonder I missed details that might have helped me understand the full picture.
I also don't get queer-baited, like ever. I have watched shows like Teen Wolf where fans loved sterek, and even though that show had a gay show-runner, it was obvious to me they were never going that route, despite kind of feeding fans over the years with banter between them. The problem was the details weren't pointing to them being endgame, they were pointing to stydia. With stydia, they were using color coding in their costumes and had the fucking red string of fate in the frame with them multiple times and they were having entire plot lines built up around sort of their feelings for each other. Then there's all the other shows out there like Supernatural and Sherlock, and to me, it just felt like two guys that had chemistry that fans read as romantic and were having fun with it, only for the writers to try to profit off of that hope fans had, just sort of fucking with fans for years without really going for it literally in the text of the story.
And even if they did (albeit extremely subtly) that's when you would see shows tend to kill off the characters. Because after years of queer-baiting, the only solution is to kill at least one off, after tricking a sector of your audience for so long. Because unfortunately, no, they're not going to end up together, so we just have to get rid of one of them to make it clear that it won't happen.
While I don't vividly remember the moment I dropped Milkvan and picked up byler, I do remember watching s3 for the first time and feeling like something was off. And then to humor my confusion, I went online and came across an analysis for the end of s3. Even though it did really made me think like 'woah.. what was that?', in the moment, I was still in a position to not want to fall for it because of all the queer-baiting out there. I'd never fallen for it before and I wasn't going to start now basically.
And then I didn't read any more theories after that, I just basically jumped into rewatching the show for fun again, without really thinking about it even, and without skipping this time. And I vividly remember the shed scene definitely had some romantic undertones going on. When the camera was focused on Mike talking to Will, we didn't get any reaction shots in between of Joyce and Jonathan. Whereas when Joyce and Jonathan talked to Will, we got Mike's reaction and both Jonathan and Joyce's kind of reactions to each others speeches in that moment, which was to obviously convey the familial bond going on. And so in contrast, seeing Mike's monologue to Will be isolated, without any cuts to the others reactions during, with intense close-ups of Mike and Will, with Mike literally having one by one teardrops falling down his face and him repeating softly you said yes, you said yes... That... Like it made me really start to consider it in that moment, based on my new potential understanding of the end of s3 and based on what I had found upon rewatching that time.
Even still though, I didn't let myself believe it. And maybe in large part it was bc I did like the idea of byler I guess? And so that made me want to be more cautious? Other times when I came across fans shipping queer pairings that weren't canon, it felt like harmless shipping to me, where like I got the appeal, but didn't like feel genuine intentional slow-burn chemistry? It was always a thing that at most I liked merely as fanon. And so I guess I was trying to prepare myself for that inevitable disappointment that it wasn't going to go any further than what it had?
Maybe it was also because I was holding onto this idea of milkvan I had at the beginning? An idea that in large part contributed to my ability to get hooked with the show in the first place? Boy meets girl is like the most universal trope in our society and it was easy to just go along with it when everyone else was.
But more than anything I do think it was because I thought it just had to be queer-bait like it's always has been. At best I thought maybe it would continue very vaguely in the subtext in s4, with like 1 or two scenes at most hinting at attraction? But we all know that's not what happened..
S4 promo dropped, and I remember being like well here goes. It had been over a year, almost two since I'd been exposed to the possiblity of byler, though I was going into it prepared to see Mike and El being perfectly in love and that they were just going to act like nothing had ever happened between Mike and Will.
But then that Cali poster dropped. And that had me reeling. I remember sending a text to my sister like 'QUEER-BAIT?' and she was like yep queer-bait. But that's also because she's in the mindset of someone that hasn't seen anything outside of watching the show, and while half paying attention at that. This is the first piece of evidence she is being presented with and so of course she is viewing it from a don't hope or assume that could ever happen bc it never happens lens.
Even that I took as maybe a reality check, that this meant nothing, but also at the same time, this is the Duffer Brothers? They're smart? Why would they apply the if boy is pointing his feet at you he is in love with you rule via New Girl, with Mike and Will in the Cali poster, for shits and giggles? When the whole point in those posters is to hide foreshadowing?
Regardless of how much it genuinely shocked me they were appearing to really play with this concept of Mike having romantic feelings for Will, I still didn't fully let myself think about it too much...
And then as s4 got closer and more stuff dropped and there was like a lot of promo hinting Will having feelings for Mike, that's when it really kicked in for me. And that's when I went back and rewatched and holy shit it suddenly became clear as fucking day. My excitement for Vol. 1 was insurmountable because I was just about to have all of these recent built up theories confirmed or denied.
When Vol. 1 finally premiered and it turned out Mike couldn't say I love you to El? And Will very clearly had feelings for Mike, staring at him constantly when he wasn't looking and conveniently with Mike's POV missing by comparison? There was just too much at play that perfectly set-up byler.
Mike having a hard time telling El he loves her, while also having a best friend beside him who is in love with him, like, that's sort of what makes it clear that this is them trying to create a conflict that easily transitions into this revelation that the reason why Mike couldn't commit to El was because he was struggling over repressed feelings for his best friend.
And then that doesn't even include all the details along the way that support it. Like closet scenes for example weren't able to be harmless anymore post-s3, they just weren't. That scene at the end with El and Mike in Will's room established this idea that Mike is in the closet, and s4 did not let up on that idea whatsoever.
We were being bombarded with very basic film techniques that any filmmaker would be thinking about to establish the story and setting and create a feeling to convey a message through all of that.
They did not need to have Mike sitting in front of his closet at the very start of s4. They did not have to have a one way sign pointing to it. They did not have to have two dudes with muscles on his walls while most of the other guys either have stuff completely unrelated to the human form or bikini clad woman. They did not have to show Mike in focus more while staring at Eddie fondly as he talks about DnD and getting out of Hawkins. They did not have to have Mike go searching for DnD replacements in the wrestling room and the art room followed by saying, I hate high school.
The I hate high school line is viewed by most of us as a throw away comedic sort of line. But it really isn't. In fact it's arguably as deep as without heart we'd all fall apart, which is why they literally had that be Mike's quote alongside that one being Will's quote for the season.
Mind you, all of this shit in 4x01 is happening after Mike just episodes ago, in the previous season, sort of treated playing DnD like it was something kids did and told Will he felt this way, by essentially saying he assumed they'd be getting girlfriends and moving on from this idea that they can play games for the rest of their lives.
So Mike in s3 went from I want to grow up and have a girlfriend and stop playing dnd bc it is childish, to in s4 Do you want to play with me? I will literally settle for an absolute stranger rn, literally anyone? No? Uh. I hate high school aka I don't want to grow up. Now he thinks that he's the childish one when really, it doesn't have to be, if he just opened his mind to it.
Watching s3-4 back to back is actually so real bc it's showcasing Mike's complete shift, a shift that basically got flipped from s1-2 to s3 to s3 to s4, and it's directly related to his relationship with El and Will (along with his parents who all of s2 punished him by taking away his toys when he acted out bc of trauma/called his toys hunks of plastic and to essentially be used as collateral bc he's going to need to grow up eventually anyways). And we see how that is conveyed when he shows up to Cali unlike his true self, he just reverts right back to trying to be someone else like in s3. Only now he's trying to pull off a Cali look on-top of it, wearing sunglasses as he mumbles an incoherent sound, something like, 'eahauw' as he rushes up to kiss and hug El, putting the flowers between them so he had an excuse to separate sooner than later, followed actually voicing words to will, moving his duffel back out of the way to hug will properly, w/out sunglasses, visibly very happy to see Will, only to not even be able to hug him by cutting it short. AND for Argyle to confirm our suspicions by calling him a knock off?? NOW I'M REALIZING IT'S TOO MUCH YELLOW? Come on!?
That's another thing, the end of s3 hug between Will and Mike literally ends with Mike looking like he is in physical pain. Like dude looks like he was burned. He looks like a mixture of angry and heartbroken. And so having that, followed up with Mike barely even being able to properly hug Will properly 2 episodes later..? Gee I wonder why?
And then it just spirals from there.
The entire season Mike is by definition emotionally cheating on El, assuming that they are even technically still together atp. There's a reason they had her say From El, and it's so that there was this sense of maybe they were technically broken up now or even just on a break rn, since they wouldn't see each other for who knows how long? Maybe never again? And so that was a writing choice made in large part to allow all of these moments between Mike and Will throughout the season to feel romantic coded and for us to comfortably view them as such. Same with how they did that with Jonathan and Nancy in s2. They create conflict that is near breakup territory, without outright saying I want to break up, and then they throw them with their other love interest and create tension.
When it comes to like how I think s5 could go down with byler, I have a few different thoughts about how that would play out. Obviously I love byler but there's a lot of other stuff going on so this would just be one aspect of the greater overall story. But for the sake of this post I'm going to focus on Byler possibilities.
Them holding off until Vol. 2, literally 2 weeks exactly after the premiere, to have Noah officially release a statement saying We now know Will is 100% gay and in love with Mike, that is them clearly knowing the gravity of revealing stuff too soon to an audience that might not be ready for it. They saw the reaction to s4 and they waited and then they made that choice to discuss it the way they did. That was the point they decided they were willing to tell the truth of the situation, including Noah admitting for the first time, that they've been hinting at Will's feelings since s1, and so he had to always be vague about things to avoid spoiling the Duffers surprise. And while they're doing this, when they talk about Mike's feelings about the situation, it is always that he has absolutely no idea.
There would be no justifiable reason to hold off on admitting Will's feelings for Mike outside of canon, only to admit they've been hinting at it since s1, if there wasn't actually something yet to see be revealed, making this revelation so late in the game, justifiable.
The main thing that we get from Mike being oblivious of Will's feelings, is that if Mike doesn't know, then technically he hasn't rejected Will yet. Because how can he have rejected Will if he has no idea? Answer, he can't!
And so now there is one season left and they are choosing to hold off on Mike's knowledge about Will's feelings? After they just finally admitted after 4 seasons that they've been avoiding telling us about Will's feelings, despite hints from the beginning because they didn't want to ruin the surprise?
What surprise though bro? Slow-burn unrequited love??? There isn't any such thing. Because that wouldn't be satisfying!
It takes us right back to the line Will makes in s3 (mid-series) to Joyce about how he's never gonna fall in love. It's not that he doesn't want to or even hasn't yet at all, it's that he doesn't believe experiencing mutual love with the person he has feelings for is in the cards for him, bc odds are, that person is going to be straight.
But... How is it satisfying to hold off on even admitting Will's feelings for Mike until the second to last season, only to hold off on Mike's POV of the situation until the last season, just to say at the last minute, Well, Will, you were right!...? Like, no.
And so I genuinely think the same thing they did with Will is happening to Mike in a sense, in that by sort of dancing around the situation with answers that don't even allow you to answer the question, by saying Mike is clueless, they can avoid delving into what exactly Mike would think. They can just say Oh of course he will accept Will and leave it at that.
The thing is, if I'm supposed to be rooting for Mike and El, these choices that they've been making, to practically infect all of their scenes with Will in the frame looking like a kicked puppy, it's not giving endgame, it's giving I should be praying for this kid to get a happy ending who is fully convinced that he won't get it.
The main question I have, is are they going to hold off the slow-burn for as long as they can, or are they going to do something unprecedented and make it happen sooner than anyone expects?
I guess for now I think that it's the most likely they will hold off until 5x07 for like the big obvious endgame moment? Slow-burn tends to thrive in it's true form, aka slow-burn until the very end. So it would make sense to have these barriers in place that prevent Mike and Will from truly realizing they have mutual feelings or something of that nature, and then acting on it. That doesn't mean the audience wouldn't be clued in on those feelings earlier in the season, but I think them both accepting those feelings and coming together and choosing to be together is something that won't be like established fully until the end.
THOUGH I will say there is one scenario I could see them manage to have Mike and Will realize those feelings sooner than we think and it's because of the satanic allegations... If Will and Mike were to ever get caught in a precarious situation, by someone in the town already accusing these kids of being the cause, specifically Mike as a member of Hellfire and specifically Will as the kid who has been connected to all of this, it would be sort of visceral seeing how that could play out with them being viewed as like a symbolic indicator of the incoming apocalypse.
Though then again, they still might not get together until like episode 7, bc with the last couple episodes being like 2 hours long, it's possible the homophobic/satanic aspect of it could come into play around then. I think it would be really critical to see other peoples reactions in the story to them getting together, including their family and friends, but also potentially the community bc that would go full circle with what went down in s1 and how like the whole community had an opinion about Will's sexuality even as a kid.
Early s5 is a big indicator of how everything will go down though. I don't think that they'll get separated and be apart the whole season, bc they made a point to convey in s4 that they want to make sure to give the audience a lot of groundwork to root for them and so I think s5 has to be much of the same for it to end in a way that has most of the audience full-on rooting for them and just screaming at their screen for them to kiss already.
However, I do think it's possible we could see them get separated for like 1 episode, maybe 2 but probably not 2 full episodes, I think the reunion would happen sometime at the end of 1 or 2 episodes.
I think Will is likely going to be targeted by Vecna, arguably already was at the end of s4, and then there's birthdaygate to address. Maybe he gets forgotten by everyone as a result of the memory/time trickery that Vecna has going on. And so we could see that play a role in them being separate for a bit while that is resolved, which would likely be early s5, to sort of mirror early s1. But then I think they would reunite by like the 3rd episode and work together most of the season as a team. And we will probably be aware of Mike's feelings in these moments because we would've just presumably gotten a bunch of parallels to s1 and considering Mike and El are broken up, it's going to be difficult to see Mike be so up in arms about Will after all of that romantic subtext, only to be with him and be looking at him like he hung the stars and shit. Even if Will isn't doing the same bc he's like convinced himself at this point Mike doesn't like him back, that would just make it even more clear bc it would be them finally showing us Mike's POV, after hiding it so much in s3-4. It would also sort of wake up those fans who had insisted Mike couldn't feel the same bc there would be no reason to do all of that for nothing.
Another way I could see it going down is by Mike basically somehow making 'a deal with god' (Vecna) that takes him instead. Maybe it's about saving Will who is trying to sacrafice himself already. Or maybe it's a way to save Max and it's sort of a last minute thing that is intended to cause them a lot of grief. Bc we know Vecna loves fucking with them. This would fit into the whole without heart we'd all fall apart, and the whole how am I gonna survive a whole week w/out you guys and Mike getting out in the DND game at the start of s4, along with like the whole theory about how if a paladin breaks an oath they basically have to go on a mini self discovery journey and can essentially be reinstated and forgiven by a cleric (Will). That would fit very very well into the imagery we got of Mike sitting down on Jonthan's bed with the upside down tapestry behind him, followed by Will sitting down beside him + Mike sitting down on the upside down couch at the cabin, followed by Will sitting down beside him. Meaning basically Mike would end up in the upside down and Will would follow behind him.
And I think in that scenario we might be seeing some things from Mike's POV that we have overlooked before, or maybe even things they have deliberately kept from us for the sake of saving it for later. Maybe that unused footage of him crying biking home after they found Will's body, or maybe they re-contextualize the cliff scene in a way that sort of frames Mike as feeling like he deserved to die that day bc after everything that happened with El, maybe he doesn't feel like he deserved to be saved by her, like Vecna just overwhelms him with the guilt that's been piling up for years, which led him to that failed monologue.
Also I think there is a very specific reason they chose to not use the song Time After Time in Max's memory of the Snow Ball in s4, and that's because they're saving it for s5. Every Breath You Take was regarded by most the fandom as a Milkvan song, and if anything it fit with all of them dancing more than it did specifically with Max's memory from that day. So them bringing that back for s4 felt like a combination of the Vecna foreshadowing and also them refusing to use Time After Time quite yet... Time After Time started playing right when Lucas asked her to dance, they easily could have used that song instead and left Every Breath You Take for s5 for a milkvan montage, hell Time After Time even would have fit well with the whole clock theme going on in s4.
But, I genuinely think it's because they're holding off on fully, in canon, re-contextualizing our understanding of that Snow Ball scene when it comes to Mike and Will's perspective of it. And how that song would fit into that revelation is a little to perfect to pass up, again on a show that has made a big deal about clocks and also has connected Will/Mike to the clock in Starcourt with the Yellow and Blue hands ie you say go slow I fall behind-- the second hand unwinds is fucking clock coded bro???
They are 100% saving that clock ass song for the end and that just tells me byler has to be endgame bc that song literally ended right before El entered the gym, it has no association to them, only to either Lucas/Max, Dustin/Nancy, or Mike/Will. That's it.
And so arguably the build up of Mike and Will is the only way to satisfyingly bring that song back full circle.
I guess I'll keep it simple and say that I think one of them are going to go missing/dissapear/be taken (something along those lines) early s5, and the other is going to find them and they're going to be a team basically. I think there could be 1-2 episodes of them alone sort of in the pits of the UD (Hell vibes). Maybe there's an almost kiss in those moments, or maybe even an official one bc them being alone finally is what grants them the courage to do what they haven't been able to do in the real world without the fears of the real world stopping them?
Though I do think that they will reunite with the others after 1-2 episodes alone. And so most of the season will be them teamed up with the og party and also having interactions with other characters along the way as well.
I do think a Murray/Byler confrontation is inevitable. I do think a Will & Robin confrontation is inevitable. I do think it's possible Mike could be exposed to the idea of having a gf then a bf (and vs) by Vickie in the case that Mike finds out bisexuality is real and an option. Bc tbh it's still something people today don't know about. So I don't think Mike Wheeler in 1986 Hawkins, Indiana would, though again maybe an interaction with Vickie could change that. Either that or Robin, Vickie and Steve are going to see Mike call Fast Times overrated and they're all going to share a look and that's when we'll know...
I do think that Will is going to have a hard time believing Mike could feel the same, even when presented with evidence? Not only does he have his insecurities in the way, but he also views El as his sister now (hell she might even actually turn out to be his twin). Even though Mike is his best friend, he's going to want it to be crystal clear that El supports it before Mike ends up being in their family via them being partners at some point. That's just who Will is as a character. He's just going to assume he is wrong for wanting that considering everything that has led up to this point.
And i think El is the kind of character that, no, she wont be like ecstatic about how this all played out and how she didn't need to get her heartbroken, but I don't think that feeling will last forever. I think they might have a little sibling talk about lying, assuming she finds out about the painting and what he said to Mike about her commissioning it. That would be a good parallel to her and Will at Rink-O-Mania when he chastised her for lying to Mike? Essentially an Oh how the turntables moment? Even so, when it's all said and done, she's going to make it clear to Will that she supports him fully.
And I think the same applies to Mike who also is going to want closure that they are okay and still friends and love each other as friends/family.
I think how all of this plays out would be very intricate, yes, but largely keeping in mind that they want us to like this ending and not be bitter about it, and so they're going to have to convince us that we want to fully let go of Mike and El and to root for Mike and Will.
This so called love triangle doesn't have equal stakes to the stancy/jancy one because we're dealing with an audience that has been completely left in the dark, now being bombarded. They have to try really hard to convince the audience to be on board with this, and also avoid homophobia in the process. They're going to have to make it very, very clear there are no more romantic feelings for Mike and El happening. Especially since we're ending the show with them in a sibling dynamic because of their relationships with Will. It would be gross to have this level of well maybe one day he could change his mind I mean he did that once before. Nope. It would be okay to have that sort of left unanswered with the stancy/jancy parallels bc we're not dealing with people being related to each other and swapping back and forth. That's why it needs to be clear in their situation.
And I do think that's why they did the whole I love you 9 times with Mike's monologue. Because it can't go up from there, there is nothing left for them to do after going all out like that, only to reveal Mike meant it deep down platonically? I mean what could they possibly do to backtrack? Have him give her another love confession where he says it 20x and adds no but fr this time?? No. They had to go all out like that to give those viewers what they wanted, the most they could possibly get and then say, sorry it's not happening. It essentially made it impossible to hope for it bc there's nothing left to hope for.
When it comes to byler and like these major moments that are bound to occur between them, I am genuinely most looking forward to them hugging again for the first time since the end of s3. That to me is going to be even more exciting than a kiss honestly (not saying I don't want a kiss but you know what I mean). And it's bc from a hug alone, I think we'll be able to tell that what's going on between them isn't platonic and that will in turn add so many layers to past seasons. I think it's also likely we'll get an almost kiss or two before the inevitable, and that would then make the slow-burn stretching until the end worth it, to me at least? Because just throwing them together never works when the formula has always been to hold off.
And that's also why the show has to end now. We can't have 6,8, 10 seasons of slow-burn, it would be exhausting. 5 seasons is the perfect amount. And having all of that angst and tension and heartache lead to a happy ending is going to make all of those moments in between that fans fought over for being critical of, sort of just dwindle to epic angst that was necessary to appreciate the happy ending.
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doctorbrown · 11 months
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DOCTOBER '23 ⸺ 「 31 / 31 * FINALE | HEART 」
March 8, 1929
Whenever Erhardt was at the courthouse, if Emmett wasn't in his room, pouring over works that would make his father red-faced and angry, he could be found with a pillow propped up against the grandfather clock in the living room, leaning back and reading whatever caught his eye this time.
It had become a pattern over the years, one Sarah had learned quite quickly after the first two times wondering where her son had run off to when he wasn't anywhere to be found in his room. Emmett was at his most comfortable when his father wasn't at home—and she couldn't blame him for that, despite how she'd tried to soften the tension between her husband and her child—and he didn't hesitate to take full advantage of the house when it was open to him.
Sarah quirks a brow upon seeing the book clutched in Emmett's hands. ❝Are you reading one of my science-fiction novels again?❞
❝Father isn't home to yell at me for wasting my time reading this worthless trash.❞ He puts on his best impression of his father as he can, mimicking the gruffness of his voice and the accent he'd yet to lose even after nearly twenty years here. ❝He wouldn't even listen to me when I told them they were educational, because they were about science.❞
Sometimes, his parents seem like fire and ice compared to each other, opposites in every way eternally fated to clash, especially where their interests are concerned; there are days he simply can't understand how they get along.
❝I found this hidden in your library.❞ He holds up the copy of A Voyage to Arcturus he'd swiped, knowing he won't be reproached for his choice in reading material. Finally, he looks away from the book, and Emmett purses his lips, studying his mother's done-up hair and full state of dress, coming to the conclusion she must be going out again for some of the day's chores.
He wonders if this time, he'll be forced to go along.
❝You know your father usually gets home around five,❞ she says, prompting Emmett to lift his head as high as he can to see the hands of the grandfather clock above him, ❝so be cautious how long you spend out here, dear.❞ The time currently reads 11:00 exactly and he frowns.
❝Is Father ever going to get our grandfather clock repaired? It has been broken for weeks and I really liked the hourly chimes.❞
❝He said he sent out for a repairman, but that was two weeks ago and I've heard nothing since. At this rate, I don't know when it'll be repaired. I'll bring it up to him tonight at dinner. Speaking of—Emmett, I'm going out to pick up some groceries. I trust you'll behave for a few hours while I'm out?❞
Emmett nods and with a quick goodbye, Sarah closes the door behind her, leaving him alone.
The book in his hands no longer holds his interest. Now that they've brought it up, all he can think about is the broken clock, whose mechanical songs have been sorely missed over the past few weeks. The clock had always been a constant, a comfort, a staple in the house as far back as he can remember, and he'd found himself on more than one occasion peering into the glass, watching the pendulum swing and the weights dance with their precise, rhythmic grace.
It was as close to watching time live and breathe as he could get and it had captivated him, as did the smaller clocks set up in the house.
Just a few months ago, he'd disassembled the small bedside clock in his room to see how it worked and had managed to put it back together without either of his parents figuring out.
If he could do that, surely he could fix this one, his favourite clock in the entire house.
His father clearly didn't see the importance of having it operational again—that, or he simply didn't care—and he could already imagine how the conversation at dinner would go. Poorly. And the clock would remain broken for another several weeks.
If he didn't, nobody else would.
Emmett checks to make sure his mother really has left before he hurries to the storage room to dig out the toolbox he'd seen his father use several times.
It's heavier than he remembers, but his mind is made up and nothing is going to get in the way of his goal, even if he has to drag the box the rest of the way towards the house.
As he peers inside the glass, he starts to take stock of all the pieces within, studying each of them carefully as if the answer will suddenly leap out at him. There could be any number of things that silenced the clock and as far as he's concerned, the best solution is to start carefully removing pieces until he can pinpoint the culprit.
For a moment, the task feels gargantuan, what with all the sprawling, delicate clockwork, but he's got his wits, his determination, and his trusty toolbox, so as he stands on his toes, reminding himself to be slow and cautious, it starts to feel more doable.
I should start from the top down.
The side door only takes a little wiggling to get loose and Emmett marvels at the first real look he's ever gotten at the movement, glittering gold in its wooden case. His eyes widen at the mechanical marvel twisting before him and he finds it even more appealing than the ornate carvings inlaid into the dark cabinet.
The front door swings open easily and Emmett's touch is almost featherlight as he pulls the hands off the movement. The clock face looks unsettling without the hands there, almost like it's naked, and he frowns as he sticks the hands in his pockets for safekeeping.
Everything has to come out in order for him to properly inspect it, but the question now becomes how. How does he remove the movement without further damaging what he's trying to repair?
Emmett sticks his head through the open side panel again and lets out an excited aha! when he spots the latches holding the face of the clock in place. A firm push knocks it free and sends the face clattering to the ground. He winces at the sound, but a quick inspection reveals no new damage—nothing has snapped off or bent or broken, so he must still be okay.
The relief he feels at that is short-lived when he realises he has no idea what to do next.
He presses his lips together in thought and reaches back through time to try and feel around the different pieces of the machine. This is all just another puzzle, one created by someone who may understand time better than him, but he has science on his side, and if he follows the cables and pulleys back to their origin point, where they connect must be the problem.
A broken gear, perhaps, or a bent hammer, or something has gotten knocked out of place.
When he tries to pull at the movement again, it remains stubbornly locked in place, and so he drops his focus down to the weights dangling lifelessly at the end of their golden ropes.
Those, too, clatter to the ground in perfect synchronisation with the loud yelp of surprise he lets out.
The rest of the pieces follow unceremoniously after, one-by-one until he's left cradling the silent heart of the clock in his hands.
Emmett turns it over in his hands, scrutinising it from corner-to-corner to try and spot anything that screams this, this is the problem!
❝Emmett Lathrop Brown!❞ That cold, booming voice strikes fear straight into his chest and Emmett immediately freezes, clutching the clock's heart to his chest like a shield. He's sitting in the centre of the half-circle of dismembered clock parts and no amount of trying to talk his way out of this one is going to make him look any less guilty than he is.
His father's anger could level the house. He can feel it, a thousand white-hot blades digging into his skin, even from across the room.
He tries to look up at the clock above him, but instead of helping him, it screams accusations.
❝Y-Yes, Father?❞
#doctober 2023#a broken clock may be right twice a day but in this case it was very wrong rip emmett#and with that...doctober is over!! it's bittersweet but i'm also thankful and i feel like i've grown more confident as a writer for this#fandom even if just by a little. to all who've read and liked and commented and reblogged any of these prompts i thank you wholeheartedly#you've definitely kept me going with your enthusiasm and i appreciate you greatly for it#i feel like emmett's love for reading definitely came from his mum and sarah is one of those types of people who will read a wide array#of different types of genres#and she likes to collect books too which young emmett helped himself to whenever erhardt wasn't around#it was basically their little secret#also the fact that even in the delorean owner's manual doc talks about the fact that his mum and dad did not part on good terms#just lends weight to this theory of mine; it was probably the culmination of a lot of bs and them not being fully compatible and the fact#that well he just treated their kid like shit and she was not about that#and in the comics erhardt was basically like 'you're just as stubborn as your son' just lends me to believe that he was not the#type of person who did well with others who didn't fully bend to his will#&; a great idea can change the world 「 hc 」#also given the origin of the grandfather clock and the neat science behind it#it seems so fitting that it be used as a main catalyst in doc's life - and that he'd love it#he just wanted to fix the clock okay and as you do when you're young you think you can do everything#doc being also wicked smart and too curious for his own good def didn't help but#doc's obsession with time and clocks is everything to me tbh#every clock is a little different and they all tell different stories and time is such a fascinating concept#man-made perhaps but still
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catcatb0y · 1 year
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I have so much respect for people who just put their blorbo into every interation with other characters, as if everyone loves their blorbo and it's SO fun until half the fandom is blorbo-inserting with that one character you just can't fucking stand and every time you try to look for stuff of your own blorbos, they are THERE, HAUNTING.
#yes this is about t/su/ka/sa from se/kai#I am so sorry I just can't get into his character#I can't tell if it's the canon version or the fanon version that drives me up the wall more#but I cannot stand him#I enjoy characters like him and I get why he's a Tumblr favorite he's a cringefail clown boy#but he's just so obnoxious#I really want to like him but guh#it does not help that the 'mafu/ka/sa parallels' are just so dumb#they are kind of cool?#but the ONLY people who talk about them just use the other female characters to make their blorbo look better#'he acts confident and cheerful in order to make sure that others don't feel sad because of him!' you mean Saki?#'he aims to be a star that can make everybody smile so he always wants to make everyone else happy!' that's Emu actually#'he puts on a dazzling persona in order to combat the fact that he doesn't remember his childhood an is actually sad on the inside!' Mafuyu#but do ANY of these people write meta about the girls?#haven't seen one yet#Ts/uka/sa is an interesting character to breakdown. Yes he lost out on his childhood (Saki had it worse) but just because he lost sight#of his original goal (the reason that he wanted to be a star) wasn't really a dissociative thing like Mafuyu not remembering her childhood#no one wants to talk about how Emu holds on to her childishness and even if she genuinely believes in her happiness she's still sad#or how Saki had LITERAL NIGHTMARES of the hospital and pushed herself too far several times because of her fear of missing out of her youth#how Mafuyu grew up too fast and doesn't have an outlet for her negative emotions bottling them up until she almost comminted sui#people seem to acknowledge how HARD these things are when they're talking about ts/ka/sa but jus completely sideline everybody else#also I think he's obnoxious in canon#god shut the fuck up you are yelling in my ear#I really wanna be able to like polysho and ten/ma siblings (with Toya) but I just can't#then I go on Tumblr and half the shit I see is 'My Blorbo is so nice to everyone else!'#'I want to see Tsu/kas/a see through Mafuyu's facade!' you mean like Emu has already been doing this entire time??#all of those memes where he is talking to Kanade and she's covering her ears like '...Loud...' that's me#Akik/as/a would be SO fun to me if I could stand Ts/uka/sa#so many artists with ADORABLE art styles and precious ideas but they just put T/suk/as/a into everything and I am like#get this man off my screen
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iluvmattsbeard · 1 month
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down on my knees (m.s)
Tumblr media
master list
nerd!matt x popular!reader
warnings: smut/oral sex (fem receiving)
preview: you assume matt is what he appears to be. a virgin nerd with no experience. when helping you study, you have him down on his knees, pleading to prove to you, he can take you there.
a/n: sorry i watched deadpool and wolverine. this song with the scene had me creaming. listen as you read. OKAY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. LIKES, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED. 🤍
everyone knew who you were. when your name is spoken, it's always the same thing said. you basically had a trance on everyone, especially a specific individual. this person would freeze up more than anyone else when you're around. the hold you have on this person is unbearable, even though you've never spoke to each other. the school's biggest nerd and easy target, Matt Sturniolo. it was no shock you haven't spoke to him. you never even blinked an eye at him. you two were in two different worlds, you had no business ever speaking to him and he for sure felt like he had no place to even be near you.
it's not like you choose to not know who he is. he doesn't put himself out there, he has no friends, and he's always just quiet. the only friends he had were his triplet brothers. you knew who Chris was because of his reputation in sports and you knew Nick because he was the talk of the school ever since he came out. like mentioned, Matt was absolutely hooked onto you. when you would enter the classroom, he feels his palms sweat and his eyes are glued onto you like he's seen an angel from heaven.
despite what everyone says about you, how mean, how stuck up, and how careless you can be, in his head, you're more than that. he blocks out all the negativity said about you and in his head, he has some delusion that he could figure you out. he feels deep down, there's more to you than your rough persona.
right now, it was lunch time. Matt is sat with his brothers and their friends. Chris and Nick, despite how different they are from Matt, they've always vowed to never let Matt be alone. they try to include him in everything but, he chooses to sit there in silence. he knew deep down he didn't fit in and it's obvious his brothers' friends also knew that.
he sits there quietly as he pokes at his food. his attention is soon caught, it's like he has a radar, he looks up slightly as you walk past their table. you were with your friends, talking to them as you head over to your table. for Matt, it was all in slow motion as you walked by. he swears he can see your skin glisten and the way your hair bounced, he was in a trance. "dude." he instantly gets brought back to reality when he hears Chris' voice, "you're staring- again." Matt looks back down at his food as he swallows slightly, "was I?" he asks quietly, a bit embarrassed he's been caught. this wasn't the first time though.
"yes. what is your obsession with her? you've never even spoke to her." Chris utters with a bit of food in his mouth. Matt looks at him with a bit of disgust, "can you swallow your food first?" Matt suggests, which makes Chris chuckle and swallow his food. "okay well, what is your obsession with her?" he repeats his question, "you've never talked to her and trust me, she's way out of your league." he adds on, making Matt tense up a bit. it was true, he really didn't belong in your world. it would make no sense, the two of you colliding. "i'd save yourself the heart break." Chris speaks up again.
"how would you know?" Matt mutters, making the brother raise an eyebrow slightly, "how do I know what?" he asks confused. "how do you know she would break my heart? if I haven't even tried?" Matt asks stupidly. he knew the answer already but once again, a little part of him believes he could break down your walls if he just had the confidence. Chris laughs at his question, "no offence but, look at you." he pauses glancing over at me, "now look at her. she would crush you." he finishes as he stuffs his mouth again. there was no point in Matt continuing this conversation. Matt looks over at you and sighs. "heaven help me." he thought to himself.
later that day, Matt walks into his final class, which to his delight, you were in. he makes his way to the back of the class, sitting down in his usual seat. he begins to take out his notebook and textbook as he lets out a quiet breath. you walk in, once again, Matt's eyes land on you and he blocks out everything else. as he watches your every move, he expects you to just walk to your usual seat in the front. he then sees you walk down his aisle, he swears he's just imagining things. you're looking right at him, making his heart stop. eventually, he gets knocked from his trance as you sit in the seat next to him.
"no one sits here right?" you ask Matt, not even looking over at him. he gulps as he begins to speak up, "n-no." he manages to let out. Matt shuts his eyes and turns to face the front. he feels like he sounded like a loser. you sit there silently as you secretly go on your phone while the class starts. Matt can't help but take small glances at you. he felt nervous even though you were just minding your own business. "what is going on?" he thought to himself. why were you suddenly sitting in the back? right next to him? he shakes off the questions as he tries his best to focus on the teacher's voice.
as days go by, Matt notices you continuing to choose to sit in the back, right next to him. it was like a dream but, still no words exchanged between you two but the first day you sat there. where he thought he sounded like an idiot, even though all he said was no to your question. Matt sits there quietly, he notices you dozed off into your arms as the teacher speaks. he can’t help but look at you in admiration. you looked peaceful; sleeping angel like. you flutter your eyes open, catching his gaze as you whisper groggily, "were you just watching me sleep?" you ask sitting up. his eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head, "what- no- I was just- nervous for you." he lets out panicked. you laugh quietly while you shake your head, "relax, it was just a question." you say surprisingly okay with catching him just now.
Matt feels his heart racing as he lets out an exhale of relief. "did I miss anything important?" you ask looking at him. was this really happening? were you really actually trying to have a conversation with him? "u-uh... not really." he mutters nervously. "okay that's good. i'm like very behind in this class." you say which, it's like the teacher heard you, the teacher speaks up, "Y/n, Matt, I need to talk to you both at the end of the class." Mr. Lionel says. you groan quietly before speaking up, "okay..." Matt's head is racing. why did he have to speak to the both of you? the BOTH of you...
when the final bell rings, you and Matt get up at the same time, heading over to the front of the class. you both stop in front of Mr. Lionel's desk as you let out a sigh, "what's it about?" you ask not enthused at all. he clears his throat, "well, Y/n, i'm sure you're aware that your grade in this class isn't the best." he starts off, "Matt here, can help you bring that grade up if you're willing." you look over at Matt, your eyes trailing down his figure slowly. he gulps as he watches you analyze him, "what is she thinking?" he thought to himself.
you look back at your teacher before nodding and speaking up, "alright." if Matt's heart was racing before, it is now bouncing off the walls. alright? that's all you had to say? no argument?
Mr. Lionel looks over at Matt, "you okay with that Matt?" he asks, snapping him back to reality, "what? uh- y-yeah." Matt responds sheepishly, his cheeks a bit flustered. "great. you two speak to each other and come up with an arrangement that's good for the both of you." the teacher says, making you both nod. he greets you and Matt goodbye, Matt instantly walking out the classroom. he can't believe he was just assigned to tutor you, and YOU agreed. he continues walking down the hall before he hears his name being called.
"Matt!" he turns around quickly before locking eyes on you, heading over to catch up to him. he freezes in his place as he stutters out, "y-yeah?" he feels like his heart can't catch a break. "you want to come over tonight?" you ask so casually. meanwhile, Matt feels like he's about to explode. "w-what?" he asks a bit dazed. "to study." you add on with a small laugh. he blinks repeatedly before having the courage to respond, "yes!" he clears his throat, "yes... I would like that." he says, trying to push down his eagerness. "okay. give me your phone." you say, no question, he instantly pulls out his phone, fumbling a bit before he hands it to you.
you type in your number and send yourself a text so that you can receive his number as well. you hand back his phone before pulling out your own, "alright i'll text you the address. come over at like 5. that's when my parents aren't home." you say making him choke up, "w-what?" Matt asks nervously but you just wave at him and walk away.
as he gets in his car, he sits there still in disbelief. it's like his prayers have been answered. he also doesn't want to get his hopes up though. it's just tutoring, right? he's still confused by why you wanted him there without your parents home. it made his heart race once more. he gets pulled out from his thoughts as Chris and Nick stumble into the mini van. Matt clears his throat as he puts on his seat belt, "can you drive me to the mall later?" Chris asks as he puts on his own seat belt. "can't." Matt says bluntly, his younger brother's eyes widening slightly, "what- why?" he asks caught off guard. "i'm going to tutor someone later." Matt says, sparing the details but, that's all Chris had to know to not question even further. it's no surprise to him that Matt has to tutor someone. Matt was the smartest person he knew.
*time skip*
after spraying some cologne on himself, he walks out his room and out the house. when he's settled into the driver's seat, he pulls out his phone and puts your address into the GPS. he was still replaying your words earlier about how your parents would be out. his hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly as he makes his way to your house.
when he's arrived, he takes the key out of the ignition. he lets out a small sigh, his heart pounding at the fact he's actually about to be with you, alone. he gets out the car and makes his way up your pathway. he rings the doorbell, waiting anxiously as he looks around. nice house he thought to himself. after a bit, you open the door. Matt's eyes immediately running down your figure. you were in a matching pajama set. his heart stops, he was now feeling self conscious at the fact he's wearing a button up shirt. "hey, come in." you say as you open the door more for him to walk in. he steps inside nervously as he looks around. "come, my room is upstairs." you speak, already heading up the stairs. he follows closely behind you.
*time skip*
you both have been sat on your bed as you lay on your stomach, flipping through the text book. "s-so... do you understand it?" Matt asks, hoping he's done a good job at explaining the subject. you look at him with a blank expression, "no." you let out bluntly, a small laugh following afterwards. "o-oh well- I can explain it again-." he gets cut off by you, "no it's fine. this is hopeless." you sigh softly, closing your text book. "my brain hurts." you add on. Matt sits there, tensing up a bit as he clears his throat, "oh- w-well... maybe some other time." he says closing his text book. you two have been going over the subject for like a hour.
"you're leaving?" you ask curiously. Matt looks at you as he stuffs his textbook into his bag, "um... well I was assuming you were done..." he admits quietly. "oh I just thought we were taking a break." you chuckle, "but alright." he straightens up as he quickly chimes in, "oh that works too." not wanting to leave just yet. you sit up, now legs crossed as you look at him, "so... why did you want me over while your parents are gone?" he asks, gulping a bit. "no distractions." you respond casually. he was amazed by how easily you can speak. he feels like he has a lump in his throat. "do you always wear those button up shirts to tutor?" you ask tilting your head a bit. "uh... no- but- I just wanted to wear something nice." he stutters out nervously. did you think it was bad? your eyes trail over his shirt, "it's nice. suits you." you compliment. he didn't know if that was a good thing or bad thing. "dressing up for me or something?" you ask. "u-uh well- kind of- yes..." he sighs in defeat.
"that's sweet." you say with no emotion in your voice. "did you think this was going to go somewhere?" you ask bluntly. his eyes widen a bit, "what? what's that supposed to mean?" he asks a bit startled. "like were you expecting something out of this?" you ask, "like a handy or a blowjob or what?" the question makes his eyes widen even more, "what? of course not!" he responds panicked, "t-that's not- I- I wasn't even thinking that." he says flustered. you chuckle softly, "i'm just messing with you." you say before going on your phone, "you don't even seem like the type." you conclude. he's caught off guard, "w-what's that supposed to mean?" he asks. you look up from your phone and meet his gaze, "you don't seem like the type to do that stuff. I mean-" you pause putting your phone down, "do you even have experience?" you ask. "well... not exactly..." he admits embarrassed by the confession.
"see? I knew it." you let out a small humorous scoff. "I-I guess I just haven't had the time..." he says, trying to seem like he's too busy to gain experience, and not because he's a total loser. you raise an eyebrow slightly, "oh so it's not by choice?" you ask, not really believing it as you stand up and put your textbook back into your bag. he stays quiet for a bit before speaking up, "yeah no... just too busy for it..." he says quietly. you let out a small snark with a small grin, "yeah okay." you respond still not buying it. Matt has this sudden urge to fight back, he also knew you weren't buying it so he makes a move he never expected to make, "I mean I have the time now." he utters, making him widen his eyes a bit. you look up at him as you tilt your head slightly, "oh so you did come here expecting something." you say, crossing your arms. "no! no... but- forget it." he mumbles embarrassed as he picks up his bag.
you sit at the edge of the bed as you speak up, "no. go ahead. since you have time." you say, not having very high expectations. he freezes in his spot as he looks at you, "w-what?" he asks with his heart pounding. "you heard me." you say, propping your arms back behind you slightly. he puts his bag down slowly as he steps in front of you. he looks down at you as you tilt your head a bit. you blink up at him, waiting for his move, not amused. Matt then slowly gets on his knees, your eyes follow him, now looking down at him. he places his hands nervously on the waistband of your pajama shorts. he looks up at you and back down at his hands as he begins to slide your shorts down slowly, revealing your white lace panties. his breath hitches in his throat as he continues to pull them down your silky legs, now leaving you in just your panties. he takes a moment to admire you in front of him as he begins to kiss your inner thighs slowly and softly, making you roll your eyes a bit at how slow he's being. he then trails those kisses up, placing a soft kiss on your clothed cunt, your eyes watching him closely. he then kisses up your stomach, his face now stopped in front of your face.
he swallows before placing his lips onto yours, everything was slow and you kiss him back. after a bit, you pull away, "okay um. I don't think this is going to work." you say about to sit up completely but he stops you. he gets back onto his knees, now yanking your panties down. you gasp slightly by the sudden action as he takes in the sight of you bare. he grips under your thighs as he pulls you closer to his face. your heart begins to race by his sudden anticipation and change of demeanor. his mouth was so close to your core, you can feel his breath against it. Matt gulps as he glances up at you, then looking back down at your folds. "heaven help me." he thinks to himself before diving his tongue into you. at first, you weren't feeling it, you sort of felt bad for his lack of experience but then, he begins to suck on your clit, making you sit up and look down at him. your mouth slowly falling open, surprised by his action. he continues to suck on your clit, you feel yourself getting wet as he works his mouth. your breath began to hitch as he ran his tongue up your now slick folds.
he flattens out his tongue, continuing his upward motion. you gasp softly, quickly biting your lip. you didn't expect to be enjoying this. he darts his tongue in and out of your entrance, making you moan out a bit louder than you expected. he looks up at you as he melts against your wet folds. he watches as you crumble above him. he swirls his tongue around your clit, making you throw your head back at the sensation, "M-Matt." you moan out. the sound of his name rolling of your tongue made him go insane. the way you moan, it was like an angelic sound in his ears. he moves his tongue against your clit, side to side as you gasp, gripping his hair with your eyes shut. he begins to suck on your slit again as he unexpectedly pushes a finger into you. "f-fuck!" you moan out as he pumps his finger, while still sucking on your clit. his eyes still on you, he knows he's doing this right.
you buck your hips up slightly, starting to feel your legs shake a bit, you have never experienced pleasure like this before. Matt pulls his finger out of you as he grips your thighs, holding them in place roughly. you let out a small whimper. the feeling of his tongue was sort of overpowering. he groans against your folds, sending vibrations through out your body. his hands grip your thighs harder as he dives his mouth in deeper. he was completely in the moment, the taste of your juices on his tongue, making him want more and more. he continues darting his tongue into you, wet noises filling the room. "you're so wet." he mumbles against you, lapping his tongue up your folds. you grip his hair a bit harder as you continue to moan. you couldn't believe the school's biggest nerd is in between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.
he then flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit as he looks up at you. you gasp once again, eyes darting down at him, "how was he so good at this?" you thought to yourself. he then pushes two fingers this time into you, catching you off guard. he pumps his slender fingers in and out at a quick motion as he swirls his tongue sloppily. you arch your back as you grip the sheets above you, "fuck Matt!" you moan loudly, making him ache in between your legs. this only drives him to go faster, pumping his fingers into you even faster as he sucks on your clit. the combination combines make your stomach swirl, "Matt i'm gonna-." you let out shakily as you arch your back even more, your eyes clenched shut, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life as you experience the best orgasm you've ever had. you release all over his mouth as he keeps his mouth on you.
your legs shake as he continues to eat you out, despite you already releasing. he grips your thighs hard as he watches you shake uncontrollably under his touch. you swear you could now see stars as he groans against you once more. you push his head away as you look down at him in shock.
he licks his lips and his cheeks are flustered. you stare at him in disbelief as you try to catch up with your breathing. his eyes dart back down to your messy wet core as he looks back up at you, “h-how was that?” he asks shyly. “how could he act so shy after that?” you thought to yourself. he’s still on his knees as he waits for your response. it irritated you slightly at how much you enjoyed it, especially because you were so confident he would be terrible at it. when you finally calm down your breathing, you sit up and look down at him.
“what do you think?” you ask in disbelief. he feels his face heat up as he scratches the back of his neck, “uh…” he chuckles breathlessly, “good?” he questions. you push his glasses back up slowly as they were resting at the tip of his nose, “let’s just say, you are not what you seem.” you let out still in shock.
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a/n: nerd matt has my heart.
tags! (comment if you want to be added)
@jnkvivi @fuckshitslover @nicksgirlfriend @mwahsturns @sturniolo-fann @etvar12 @hxnnah24 @strnlxlqve @sturncakez @sturnioloremarker @3lizaluvs @lanaswifeyy @dirtylittleheart333 @luzsturniolo @sturnpooks @sturnioq @c6ina @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @sweetangelgirl7 @fratbrochrisgf @l0vergrlll @deadiish @dykes4chris @blahbel668 @sturnfannn @schlutt4matty @scarlett-or-wtv @suyqa @strtrckrz @sturniluvr @alexisxena @fratboychrisera @unhingedrobin @edgemaster696
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wispeth · 3 months
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(doppelganger Merlin au. Arthur is looking at two Merlin's, who both have all of Merlin's memories, except the imposter doesn't have magic. which is perfect, because the real Merlin lied so flawlessly to Arthur that imposter Merlin would have a real chance to take over Merlin's life. oh and, uh, Merlin was drugged w a truth serum. so he can't lie about the magic if it comes up. The imposter is able to pretend to be Merlin better than Merlin can bc ofc the magic comes up.)
Arthur: What's the first thing you ever said to me?
Imposter Merlin, confidently: Hey, that's enough. You've had your fun my friend.
Real Merlin, dazed, looking over at the imposter in horror as he realizes that the imposter has all of his memories, and that the imposter is actually capable of lying rn unlike himself, which means Real Merlin can't even keep up his own facade, but the imposter can: (says exactly the same thing in perfect unison with the imposter, but looks a lot more lost and shaken about it)
Arthur, narrowing his eyes at them both: What is your favorite tunic to dress me in?
Imposter Merlin: The red one. (It was a fair enough assumption. It was the one that Merlin picked out for Arthur to wear more than any of the others.)
Real Merlin, unable to believe he's about to admit this, but he has truth potion in his system: Your nightshirt, when you decide to wear it... It is--you look the happiest, in that one. (gay sweatdrop)
Arthur, kind of floored by the vulnerability: (was honestly expecting Merlin to say the red one, but now he wasn't so sure because that also sounded like something girlish that Melrin might say) Alright... How many times have you saved my life?
Imposter Merlin, gleeful on the inside because he finally has a chance to play Merlin's part while Merlin can't even maintain his own web of lies because of the truth potion: (to this imposter's credit, he is very good at pretending to be merlin. he starts mumbling to himself and counting on his fingers, just as Arthur thought Merlin might have done.) Let's see, there was the dagger, the poison, the... (proceededs to ramble off most every single one that Arthur himself is aware of) ... so that's about, a dozen? I'd say?
also Imposter Merlin: (places his hands on his hips in Merlin's sassy way) I'm starting to think you owe me a day off.
Real Merlin, voice shaky, because they are getting nearer and nearer to the topic of magic: Twice a fortnite for as long as I've lived in Camelot... That's got to be in the hundreds by now.
Arthur, suddenly remembering all the creatures of the week that suddenly disappeared before they became a problem. He knew of about one every month or two, but he started reconsidering if his guardian angel had been taking care of threats that he perhaps DIDN'T know about: Erm... (still can't tell who the real Merlin is, because one of them is giving all the answers he's looking for and is acting exactly like he would expect Merlin to, but the other Merlin is being so damn earnest right now, as Merlin was wont to do in times of crisis) What is--what's an honest truth that you've told me that I have mistaken for a lie?
Imposter Merlin, knowing that he's being quizzed on the memories of their shared history, without missing a beat: Valiant's shield. It was enchanted with those snakes. You got into a world of trouble for confronting him about it in front of the entire court. (aka exactly the answer that Arthur was expecting from the real Merlin)
Real Merlin, with a knot in his throat and tears in his eyes because he knows he's doomed: (the first instance that came to mind was that time he saved Gwen's father from sickness using magic and Gwen got thrown in the dungeons for being an alleged sorceress--and of course that was his first thought, he is very very paranoid about the magic so it's all he's thinking about--he has to say the first one for the sake thought for the sake of honesty, even though it's damning) Gwen's not the s-sorcerer... I am. (is also making exactly the same face that he was making the day that he told Arthur about Valiant's shield, the face where he is pleading for Arthur to believe him. The imposter only has access to Merlin's memories through Merlin's eyes, so the imposter wasn't able to see what Merlin's face did that day, so he wouldn't have known)
Arthur, now even more unsure, just gapes for a moment because how fucking stupid does someone have to be to confess to sorcery in Camelot? Twice?! And it was worse yet that he still couldn't tell for sure which Merlin was the real Merlin because he'd never had to combine the image of Merlin with magic before and gods damn it all he needed a moment to process: (decided to start asking Merlin questions about himself instead of quizzing him on information that Arthur already knows) Who was your first love? (fully expecting to hear Gwen's name, although, Merlin was quite flamboyant....)
Imposter Merlin: It was Will... (blushes a little, looking flustered and matter of factly at the same time, in that awkward way that mimics merlin perfectly) You met him, in Ealdor.
Real Merlin, sneering at the imposter in the way that he did Cedric when he was bitter about replaced by a possessed man in the Cornelius Sigan incident (a/n: even though the episode I mention in this line is a totally different one. I think I mix referenced a lot of episodes in this ramble actually): H-her name was Freya. You killed her.
Arthur, alarmed: Killed her? Wh--Merlin--not Merlin--Merlin? (stammers on how to address this Merlin, tosses his hands up after 0.5 seconds) I do not recall killing any village girls in Ealdor..!
Real Merlin, shaking his head: She was the bastet. It wasn't her fault, she was cursed by a sorceress to become a bastet at night. It wasn't your fault either, you did what you had to; I don't blame you for what happened.
Arthur, suddenly remembering that night, remembering how Merlin was reaching for the dangerous feline beast as if it were only a kitten, as if Merlin was going to pet it, or shield it from Arthur, or any other number of things that also seem so very Merlin. Arthur hadn't even considered it before, but now? Looking back? Merlin certainly had been remarkably upset in the passing days after that: (more confused than ever) Wh... Where did -- where were you, yesterday? (Gaius already told Arthur that Merlin was at the tavern)
Imposter Merlin: At the Rising Sun. Gwaine took me out for a round of drinks. Something about a lucky charm?
Arthur, nodding along: (it was true that Arthur has heard Lancelot and a few other knights call Merlin a lucky charm) Hm... (turns to look at the other Merlin)
Real Merlin, with a wobbling lip: (laughs weakly, rolling his teary eyes a bit) I told him to stop using that excuse... (refocuses) I was crawling out of the mirror, if you must know. I TOLD you I had a funny feeling about it. (motions to the imposter) (he has tears in his eyes and a smile on his face, and his voice sounds exactly the same as it did that one time when he said to Arthur 'you're certainly not' after Arthur told him that no man was worth his tears)
Arthur, now watching Real Merlin more closely than Imposter Merlin, searching: Who was your favorite guest to mock at the feasts and whatnot?
Imposter Merlin: (kind of stumped bc he wasn't expecting a question like this)
Real Merlin, who is actually able to answer first after some thought: ..... (snorts) Does-- (snorts again) Would the Lady Catrina count as a guest, d'you think? Or should I--no--I'll say it was the Lady Vivian. You get this, LOOK on your face every time she sits near you at the banquet table when she comes 'round.
Arthur, jaw dropped in mock offense: Because she is rather touchy! We've been over this..! (doesn't even realized that he just responded to Real Merlin as if he were for sure the real Merlin, and momentarily forgot that there were two convincing Merlins present)
Imposter Merlin: Are you mad? Arthur, the fake me said it himself that he crawled out of the mirror and practices sorcerery..! (looks so earnest, so genuine, but it's just... not quite how Merlin would say it)
Arthur: (narrows his eyes at the imposter with slight suspicion)
Imposter Merlin: (gives Arthur a flat look, exactly like the real Merlin would do when Arthur says something stupid) Arthur, I am not a sorcerer. You would know. (a/n: last episode style)
Arthur, who had never once suspected magic, but did always know that Merlin had been keeping a secret from him (he'd always assumed it was the alcoholism, but now....): You'd think so, wouldn't you.... (glances at the real Merlin, looking a little hurt)
Real Merlin, not denying the magic at all: I was born with it. I use it for you, Arthur.
Imposter Merlin: You can't honestly--
Arthur, looking deep into Real Merlin's eyes: Swear to me, right now, that you are telling me the truth. Prove it to me.
Real Merlin: (grabs the hidden dagger out of the imposters hands, who had apparently been gearing up to attack Arthur, which is confusing enough all on its own because it made it difficult to tell which one of them was truly intent on attacking Arthur with it, and then charges Arthur)
Arthur, who normally has keen warrior reflexes but not when his enemies wear Merlin's face: (freezes up, and then watches in shock as the dagger clashes against the thin air about an inch in front of Arthur's chest, cast aside by some glowing shield that fades after a second)
Real Merlin: Why do you think it takes me three hours to polish your armor? Do you have any idea how long it takes to enchant the space between every link of chainmail? (drops the dagger at Arthur's feet so he knows it was just a demonstration and not a genuine attack, similar to the way that Arthur always aims just to the left of Merlin when he's throwing blunt objects such as goblets because he never wishes any actual harm on Merlin)
Arthur, blinking dazedly: (can't help but think of that one time that Merlin spontaneously became talented at juggling. it's such a strange thing to remember, and completely unrelated to the current happenings, but Merlin's smile was small and smug just like it had been that day, and it just--clicked)
also Arthur, looking slightly more sure of himself now: (needs one final test to make absolutely certain, but he thinks he knows just what to ask) What would you have me do, if I cannot tell you apart?
Real Merlin, without missing a beat: Arrest us both. (shrugs casually) I am a sorcerer after all. Better safe than sorry.
(And that's just it, isn't it. It was just like Merlin, to sacrifice himself like that. It was just so, unmistakenly Merlin.)
Arthur, smirking in mock offense: Better safe than--excuse you, I could take you apart with one blow!
Merlin *cough*hearteyes*cough* "Emrys" Hunithson™, the one and only: I could take you apart with less than that
(In the end, Merlin walks himself to the dungeons as the imposter is arrested, just to give Arthur peace of mind so there's no pressure to second guess his decision since even if Arthur chose wrong, there is no assassin Merlin imposter on the loose. Merlin and the imposter both spend 3 days in their respective cells before the imposter finally does some decidedly out of character shit and Arthur can have him executed with full confidence that it's not Merlin... since the guy really was very good at mimicking Merlin. Arthur didn't even realize that he'd needed it at the time, but looking back, he probably would have had a panic attack as the imposter was marched to be hanged. He probably would have doubted himself at the last second and wondered if he really did believe the right Merlin those few days ago. But thankfully, Merlin thinks ahead sometimes and is actually quite thoughtful and wise on these such rare occasions.)
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weirdrandomtina · 10 months
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So, I experienced some deju vu during this scene in Trolls Band Together:
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John Dory grabs his backpack, says he's leaving (I'm done, YOLO, etc.), and then the last thing he says is "Goodbye Forever!", followed by Branch's distraught face, and the next thing Branch knows, all his brothers have left him and he never sees them again.
I was trying to figure out why that little snippet stuck with me, then it hit me:
Trolls Holiday in Harmony, when Branch is trying to figure out a gift for Poppy. He's worried about doing the wrong thing, disappointing her or freaking her out, and says "I CAN'T let that happen". He illustrates his point with Poppy packing a suitcase, and what does she say right before she runs off?
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Really brings his abandonment issues into the light😢
I've seen a few comments of people being annoyed when Branch said to Poppy "aren't you going to leave me anyway", but they clearly don't understand how trauma affects people's mental and emotional state.
He knows Poppy loves him and doesn't actually believe she'd leave, but after a lifetime of being alone, even though he's happy and loved now, there's still that subconscious fear that he'll end up alone again. Poppy means everything to him, and he can't bear the thought of losing her too, especially as a result of something he's done (his grandma died to save him, and he believed his brothers leaving was his fault because he 'ruined everything' at the concert).
Sometimes this results in Branch trying to push Poppy away, which seems conflicting, yes, but again: trauma messes with your mind. He was already heartbroken and angry at his brothers, so he wasn't thinking clearly and blurted out his hidden main fear.
And when he says "everyone else [leaves me]" I hear "everyone in my life has left me so I must deserve to be alone, so you might as well leave me too."
And that's probably why Branch was so hesitant to be open with Poppy - 1. I might scare her away, and 2. why bother expressing my feelings to someone when I'll likely just lose them anyway. Plus he's still getting used to having someone to confide to in his life. Keeping emotions bottled up for years is a hard habit to get out of.
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roturo · 3 months
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SUCCESSOR -`♡´-
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summary: He believes he’s going to die soon, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable. He needs a successor. And soon.
warnings: A LOT of breeding, smut, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds, pwp, tummy buldge, mentions of cum, mating press, virgin!L, obssesed!L, mentions of forming a family, not proof read and sleepy while writing this. and more.
a/n: ik this is going to have as much support as my other works, but it's def one of my best and favs writings, so please show me your support with a comment and reblog! it means a lot for me!
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You've been part of the task force for a while now, ever since L handpicked you for his elite team. As a regular member, you've earned your place and trust within the group. The necessity of keeping your identity hidden has diminished, thanks to the expanding team, but you still opt for an alias during meetings, maintaining a veil of secrecy around your true connection to L.
L’s mind is a labyrinth, each thought of a winding path leading to an unknown destination. His strategies are always a step ahead, his deductions razor-sharp. Yet, despite his brilliance, one specific thought has been haunting him lately:
He believes he’s going to die soon.
This isn't a paranoid delusion but a calculated assessment. L understands the immense dangers tied to the Kira case. The complexity of the situation has grown, and he suspects an external force at play, one that eludes even his grasp. This unknown entity has shifted the balance, making the case more perilous than ever.
L is determined not to let his legacy end prematurely. He has dedicated his life to solving the world’s most challenging mysteries, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable.
He needs a successor.
And soon.
Finding someone who can match his intellect and tenacity is no simple task. The successor must be able to understand his intricate methods, to carry on his relentless pursuit of justice. The urgency of this mission weighs heavily on him, as he prepares to identify and groom the next guardian of his legacy.
You were the perfect match for him, and his calculations confirmed it. There was an 86% probability that having a child with you would result in someone with a higher IQ than his own, combined with the social skills he lacked. In the realm of interpersonal relationships, L was inexperienced, never having had a relationship or intimacy before. Recently, he had been contemplating how to propose this idea to you.
Should he ask you outright? Should he try to make you fall in love with him first? No, this wasn't about love. It was a precaution, a step in his investigation, a way to ensure his legacy continued if the worst were to happen.
The atmosphere in the headquarters was tense as always, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the room. You sat at your desk, engrossed in your work, when L’s quiet footsteps approached. His presence was magnetic, his aura of mystery and intellect always palpable. He paused beside you, his gaze fixed on the monitors displaying the latest updates on the Kira case.
“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, a rare departure from his usual confident demeanor.
You looked up, surprised by the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone. “Of course, L. What’s on your mind?”
He shifted, glancing around the room as if searching for the right words. “There’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s… personal.”
Your curiosity piqued, you nodded, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening.”
He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re aware of the importance of my work, of the dangers we face daily. The Kira case has made me realize that I must consider contingencies I hadn’t thought of before.”
You nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“There’s a… statistical analysis I’ve conducted,” he said, his voice becoming more clinical as he explained. “It suggests that if I were to have a child with someone of your intelligence and social capabilities, the child would have a higher IQ than mine and possess the social skills I lack. This could be crucial in continuing my work if anything were to happen to me.”
The gravity of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. L, always methodical and rational, had approached this highly personal matter with the same analytical mindset he used to solve cases. You could see the logic in his plan, yet the implications were overwhelming.
“So, you want me to… have a child with you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Yes,” he replied, his eyes unwavering. “But understand, this is not about emotions or personal desire...I think” He whispers to himself before he continues– “It’s a precaution, a part of my contingency planning. I’ve never experienced a relationship or intimacy, so I’m uncertain how to approach this.”
The room seemed to close in around you as you processed his request. It was a cold, calculated proposition, yet it carried a weight of vulnerability and trust. L was placing his future, his legacy, in your hands.
“How do you expect this to work, L?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and trepidation.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, his facade of invincibility cracking slightly. “I’ve considered different approaches. Should I simply ask you directly? Should I try to make you fall in love with me first? But this isn’t about love. It’s about ensuring that if I am no longer here, someone capable can continue my work.”
A silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. L’s eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, perhaps even acceptance. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between his logical mind and the unfamiliar territory of human connection.
“I need time to think about this,” you finally said, your voice gentle but firm.
L nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “Of course. Take all the time you need. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”
Finally, you made your decision.
One evening, you found L in his usual spot, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity of his focus. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.
“L,” you said softly, breaking the silence. He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting yours.
“I’ve thought about what you asked,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “And I agree.”
For a moment, L simply stared at you, processing your words. Then, slowly, he nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. “Understood. Thank you for your cooperation.”
You took a seat across from him, the air between you charged with a new sense of purpose. “How do we proceed?”
L leaned back, his thumb brushing his bottom lip in thought. “We need to ensure this doesn’t disrupt our work or compromise the investigation. The task force must not be aware of our personal connection, as it could create complications.”
You nodded, understanding the delicate balance that needed to be maintained. L’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I must admit that emotional connections are not my area of expertise. This will be… a learning experience.  Should… we do it tonight?”
“Ah- Ah- Slow down, L-Lawliet!” you gasped, your voice breaking with a mix of pleasure and urgency.
L’s thrusts were sloppy but fast, driven more by instinct than experience. His movements lacked rhythm, a clear sign of his inexperience. He had come twice already without withdrawing from you, his body responding purely on primal urges.
He had done his research, concluding that a mating press might be the most effective position for this purpose. But he never anticipated how overwhelmingly good it would feel. Was it like this with everyone? Or was it something unique because it was you?
His thrusts grew more erratic, almost desperate. Small whines escaped his mouth, each one tinged with your name like a prayer. You could feel every twitch, every movement inside you, the raw intensity of his desire almost too much to bear.
“L,” you whispered, trying to regain some control. “You need to… slow down.”
He nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “I’m trying,” he panted, his voice unsteady. “It’s just… so overwhelming.”
His usually sharp, calculating mind seemed lost in the haze of sensation. Every thrust, every brush of skin against skin, was a new experience for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between maintaining control and giving in to the raw pleasure.
He moaned at the familiar, overwhelming sensation of climaxing again, and you could feel your own release approaching. The intensity was almost unbearable when he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under your back, angling you into an even deeper mating press. His thrusts became more deliberate, his cock somehow reaching deeper, hitting your g-spot with precision over and over again.
The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that all you could do was chant his name like a mantra, each syllable a prayer of ecstasy. “L-Lawliet,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.
He watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his own pleasure driving him to thrust harder, faster. “S-shit,” he gasped, his breath hitching, “I think—” His words dissolved into a whine as he came again inside you, his release flooding your womb with a desperate, addictive need.
This wasn’t just about producing a successor anymore. It was about the raw, primal satisfaction of filling you over and over again. He was captivated by the sight of your bodies joined, the way your mixed arousal leaked from where you were connected, glistening in the dim light.
“Lawliet,” you cried out, your own climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, milking every last drop of his release as he continued to thrust, his movements erratic and needy.
He whimpered, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, his dark hair falling in a messy curtain around your face. “You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and exertion.
He groaned before pressing his lips to yours, the kiss deep and fervent. His cock remained erect inside you, pulsing with an insatiable desire. The feeling of having you this close, of being connected so intimately, was overwhelming. In that moment, he lost all sense of reason and the initial purpose behind his actions.
His mind, usually so sharp and focused on the Kira case, was now clouded with visions of a future he never thought he'd consider. He imagined how adorable you would look, carrying his child, a baby with his eyes and your smile. The idea of having a family with you consumed him, pushing all thoughts of logic and strategy aside.
Without realizing it, he began thrusting again, the movement instinctual and desperate. Each thrust was deliberate, fulfilling the small bump of cum inside you that was already visible through your tummy. He watched in awe, fascinated by the sight of your bodies joined so intimately, the tangible evidence of his desire and your shared pleasure.
“L-Lawliet,” you gasped against his lips, your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved within you. “What... what are you thinking?”
He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking about us. About a future I never allowed myself to dream of.” His voice was rough with emotion, a raw edge that you rarely heard.
Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor striking a chord deep within you. “Lawliet,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I never imagined… I never thought you’d want this.Want me”
“I didn’t either,” he admitted, his thrusts growing more purposeful. “But now, with you, that's all I can think about. The idea of you carrying my child, of us having a family…you in general… it’s overwhelming.”
He kissed you again, more gently this time, savoring the softness of your lips against his. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, the sensation heightened by the emotional intensity of the moment. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every detail.
“Do you… do you want this too?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
“Yes,” you breathed, the admission freeing a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. “I want this. I want us.”
His eyes darkened with a mix of relief and desire, and he kissed you harder, his movements inside you becoming more urgent. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, each moan and gasp a testament to the bond growing between you.
As he continued to thrust, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his rhythm intensifying as he chased his own release.
“Lawliet,” you cried out, your climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, every nerve ending alight with sensation.
He groaned, his own release following closely behind, filling you once more. The feeling was addictive, the raw intimacy of it all-consuming. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered mostly to himself, his voice filled with wonder.
“Neither can I,” you replied, your heart pounding in sync with his. “But it feels right. It feels perfect.”
He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It does.”
You stayed entwined like that, savoring the afterglow and the newfound depth of your connection. The Kira case and the outside world faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of each other’s presence and the promise of a future together.
Eventually, as the reality of your situation began to seep back in, you knew you had to return to your duties. But the bond you had forged would remain, a source of strength and comfort in the days to come.
As L gently pulled out and helped you adjust, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure this out,” he said softly in a small whisper. “Together.”
“Together,” you echoed, your heart filled with a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.
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harunovella · 8 months
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language (verse ii); s.g.
synopsis: when gojo satoru first interacted with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo and reader saving a kitten (a moment straight out of a romcom for sure), not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: truly didn't think the first part to this anthology series would gain such attention! thank u for that! again, these can be read as a standalone (or connected to this one, but you don't have to read it); enjoy and lmk if u want more!
It was this specific cherry blossom tree Satoru always found you under. The one Kento mentioned the first time he ever asked him about you. If you weren't busy with training or missions, or enjoying life outside the jujutsu world, he found you there. Although there was an array of trees, there was one specific one you seemed to gravitate towards. 
He wasn't sure if it was the specific spot that had good lighting for when you wanted to read or sketch in your little book, or maybe it was the way the roots formed a perfect spot to sit in between... whatever it was, he knew it to be your tree. Even when you weren't around. There was something... welcoming about it. Whenever he walked by with Suguru and Shoko nearby, or whenever he was aimlessly wandering around, he always found himself peeking in its direction, hoping you were sitting underneath it. 
For a confident young man, it took Gojo some time to make his way to you. Claiming to love you when he hadn't even uttered a word in your direction was bold, even going as far as believing you were his soulmate was quite the exaggeration. So why was it hard for him to simply say hello? 
Maybe it was because he wasn't a simple person. Nothing about Gojo Satoru screamed simple. He was anything but that. Yet, a task as easy as that—which came naturally to any other girl around him—was a hassle. Each time he thought he found the courage to step up, he let his racing heart deter him. 
That was until you made the first move. 
It caught him completely off guard, the way you gently tapped his arm from behind, peeking up at him with that sweet smile of yours. His heart did somersaults, his eyes widened behind his round frames, so big that his shades couldn't even hide them. He had been on one of his little walks, new treat in hand that Shoko bribed him with in order to practice her reverse curse technique on him. He was bored, completing his missions and not having much to train on when he already excelled at everything. 
At everything except talking to the girl of his dreams. 
"Hi," you kindly greeted, smile reaching your eyes. Oh, god, you were an angel. A being descended from up above. How could you exist so easily in such a cruel world? He needed to protect you, right? Even if he could see your cursed energy oozing out so brightly. You must've been powerful, something he never considered, always looking at you like you were some little bunny to keep in his pocket... not one who could possibly kick the shit out of him (if he'd let you and he definitely would). "Can you help me out?"
"Pretty..." the words slipped his mouth before he could even process them. Quickly sealing his lips and clearing his throat as you tilted your head, Satoru straightened his back. "What is it?"
Dismissing the sudden word vomit, assuming he was in his own world, you pointed to the left of you. "I sit under those trees, but I keep hearing soft meows coming from one of them. I'm too short to reach... do you think—"
"Yes," the white haired young man instantly nodded as you blinked. Without a second word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the tree that you claimed your own. 
You, a bit baffled, were unsure as to how exactly he knew which tree you had been pointing at when it was a general direction. Yet, there he was, approaching the tree you were referring to. "It's quite high up, but you're very tall!" You called out before following after him, lightly jogging to catch up before stopping behind him as he eyed the tree. 
In reality, Gojo didn't think any of it through. He just wanted to say yes to be around you, to hear you speak more. Not... to climb up a tree to save a stray kitten. But, whatever made him look better in his eyes, he didn't mind. 
"Be careful!" You exclaimed as you watched him make his way up the tree, no hesitations. You were a bit surprised that someone so easily wanted to help you save a cat. Maybe he liked animals, too?
Or maybe he was a fool madly in love with you—you wouldn't know this yet. 
"Oh, there! You've got 'em!" You clapped as you watched the uniformed young man gently reach for and latch onto the small, white kitten. 
"Ah, don't worry, I'm only here to help you," Gojo said, carefully pulling the kitten towards himself. "I've got you, you're safe now. I just gotta figure out—"
"Watch out!" You shrieked.
"Shit!" Satoru yelped as he lost his balance, clutching the kitten close as he slipped from the branch. Landing with a loud thud, followed by several groans of pain (and pure embarrassment... when did he ever make himself look like a complete fool?!), Gojo rolled around with his eyes closed. 
"Are you alright?!" You panicked, rushing over and kneeling at his side, gently lifting his head with one hand as your other pressed carefully against his shoulder, eyeing his body for any wounds. 
"Agh... dammit..." he grunted, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the brightness of the sun. Blinking a few times, blurred vision focusing, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. Your hair that was usually held back by its ribbon, cascaded around your face as a few strands slipped out from the ponytail. With eyebrows narrowed and a look of worry on his face, Satoru's embarrassment turned into that of timidness. You were engulfed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel you were. "Gosh, you're so pretty..."
"Are you okay?" You asked in a panic, his mumbled words coming off too slurred to understand. "Did you hit your head too hard?"
Shaking his head as he forced himself to sit up, Gojo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "No, 'm fine..." he sighed before looking down at his hands to the kitten. "So is this little guy."
Turning your attention from the white haired young man, to the matching kitten, you gasped, "what a hero!"
Grinning and feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, Gojo shrugged, "eh, ''twas nothing..."
"You almost broke a few bones, though..." you frowned, looking back at him. 
"I'm tough," he brushed off before turning to face you. Now eye to eye, the sudden confidence instantly sizzled away as he gazed at you from up close. A sudden silence weaved between the two of you as your eyes locked, nothing but the sounds of nature and the kittens purring filled the air. "I..."
"Um..."
"You should keep it," Satoru suddenly said, handing you the kitten. "Deserves a nice home."
"Oh, me?" You asked as you took the kitten in your hands, caressing its soft, white fur. 
"Yeah, I wouldn't be a good dad," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You... You'd be a great mom to it, I'm sure."
Eyeing the kitten, then looking back up at him, you smiled, "we can coparent."
At your offer, Gojo gulped. "Co... parent?"
"Yeah, like, help me out with..." lifting the kitten up, you squinted your eyes, "her."
"I... I don't know much about taking care of animals but I can try and help as much as I can," he offered, scratching his head nervously. 
Smiling, you brought the kitten close to your chest, "you saved her from a tree, I'm sure she will remember that."
"Yeah, maybe," Satoru blushed.
Looking down at the kitten as you pet her, listening to her gentle purring, you happily sighed, "what's your name?"
Quickly pointing at himself, the blue eyed boy asked, "mine?"
"Mhm," you nodded. 
"Gojo. Gojo Satoru. You can call me Satoru, though," he nearly blurted out as you chuckled before giving him yours. 
"Well, Satoru," you beamed as he melted at the sound of his name slipping off your tongue, "I think I'll name her after you."
"Wha— Satoru? But... she's a girl?" He tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows. 
"I was thinking of a nickname," you said before looking down at the kitten. "I'll name her Toru. It's cute, right?"
Nodding slowly, then faster, Gojo agreed. "Yeah, Toru is cute."
Lifting your gaze to meet his, you gave him a toothy smile. "Toru it is."
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queenpiranhadon · 3 months
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A/N: Was missing my baby so I decided to type this up <3 Here's the masterlist!
Warning(s): Katsuki’s down bad but to be fair, so are you lol, you’ve been married for over a year, you two live together, pre-established relationship, anti social Katsuki, you have a lot of Dynamight merch, Katsuki publically simps for you <3, f!reader, Katsuki refers to you as his wife and vice versa, reader’s a little childish lol
Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
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•────•°•❀•°•──── ᴛᴇᴅᴅʏ ʙᴇᴀʀ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•
It's no surprise that Bakugou loves to talk about you, his pretty wife.
Ever since the two of you got married, the public could definitely see the impact you had on him- even though you didn't come fully public with your marriage. He's kinder now, softer in a way, still the powerful hero he used to be, if not even stronger, but he's not the same person who flips off a camera once paparazzi flock to him after a mission.
Instead he gives a slight nod of acknowledgement before moving on- he had places to be.
Places being back home, to you, in your awaiting arms, where you would greet him with a smile that could heal the world of its sins if it wanted to, a smile that to him, was the purest and most beautiful thing in the world.
Bakugou Katsuki wasn't a man who truly believed someone was better than him, having enough confidence in himself to become was he was not with enough determination, but you...
You were his heaven, his haven, his home. You were the sun and the moon, and land and the sea, everything beautiful in the world, it was you.
And the whole world could tell. Probably even extra terrestrial species on other galaxies.
Well, everyone but you.
You, being the absolute angel you are, didn't think of yourself that way. You were just… you - trying to achieve your goals and have a happy life, alongside your Katsuki, who you'd support no matter what, and him, you.
You knew Katsuki loved you, of course you did- though the blonde wasn't well versed when it came to expressing his feelings through words, he was more than adequate in showing it through his actions instead.
You probably wouldn't be able to even comprehend the amount of love Katsuki held in his heart for you.
Until one special night that is.
Katsuki's been invited to one of your favorite talk shows, and after a lot of convincing ( read: pleading ) he gave in. He couldn't say no to you anyways.
Katsuki had left for the filming a while ago, leaving you to deck out in your limited edition Dynamight merch while turning on the TV to watch your husband.
The familiar opening plays and you see the set of the show you always loved to watch- pride warming your heart as you see your beloved on the screen.
"Live from Tokyo, it's your host, Seiko Nishimura and tonight, we're here with the only and only, Pro Hero Dynamight!- also known as Bakugou Katsuki."
Your husband nods, and mumbles out a "Thanks for havin' me." and you feel your heart melt at his adorable attempt to be social on camera.
Seiko grins, and turns to her stack on notecards nodding to the audience. "Well, I've got a set of questions from the audience all around the world! And we've got a lot, so let's get right to it!"
The night goes on smoothly enough, with Katsuki answering questions about his career and his schedules signing events that were coming up. You hug your Dynamight themed teddy bear closer to your chest as you feel overflowing love for your husband. You were more than proud of him, overcoming trauma from his high school years and bad habits that you know still plague him to this day, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. He overcame it all- and you were just truly happy to be by his side.
All the questions are relatively the same- nothing really sparking your absolute interest (your focus was really just on Katsuki and how stupidly good he looked in his muscle shirt and cargos, matched with glossy jet black Prada boots)- until Seiko asks a question that makes you perk up.
"Many fans have noticed a ring around the chain you always wear when you're out fighting - do you perhaps have a special someone at home?" the host asks with a cheeky grin, expecting the blonde to give a flustered outburst but instead, Katsuki shows a hint of real emotion for the first time that night, a small genuine smile stretching across his face.
He takes out the chain in question, and runs his callused thumb over his fondly.
"Yeah, I gotta wife at home" he says, love seeping into his gruff voice. "She's probably on the couch watching this with that stupid Dynamight bear she got me for our last anniversary."
You gasp and look at your bear incredulously. "He did not call you stupid." you grumble, hiding half of your face into the plush of the stuffed animal but still peek over it to watch the screen.
You felt giddy, like a schoolgirl- wondering what Katsuki would say about you on live television. It was silly, you knew- but even after all these years Katsuki still had you flustered like he did all the way back when you were both sixteen.
"Damn woman uses that thing more than I do." he grumbles playfully and sighs."But...I don't think I would be where I am today without her."
You feel your cheeks heat, unable to be tear your eyes away from your husband on the screen.
"She's my rock, the breath in my lungs, the blood in my veins, the fire the keeps my goin'- I don't think I'd ever be able to tell her how much I really do love her."
You feel unbelievably hot, overwhelmed by love and affection even though he's not here with you. A watery smile forms on your face as you wipe away the tears that slip down your face.
You hold the teddy bear tight, breathing in Katsuki's scent- though he claims that you use it more than he does, know you that he sleeps with it whenever you're away.
Katsuki never failed to make you feel loved, through his actions, and right now, through his words too.
ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ:
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this was one of the 247 posts Mina and Ejirou sent you the day after- Katsuki didn’t leave the bedroom once he saw, taking the teddy bear to cover his red face
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sushirrrry · 5 months
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EXECUTIVE a harry styles one-shot smut blurb; 19.3k words cw: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dom/sub, breath play, dirty talk.
"If they want the fucking numbers, they've got to stop being pussies and give us the fucking reins. I'm not sitting around and waiting for their stock to crash and for their stupid, fucking minions to come back on me to tell me what I already knew and told them from the start—I'm not painted out to be the biggest fucking moron, that's for certain. It's either a deal or it isn't, plain and simple. If they don't want to have that fucking conversation, it's done. Fuck them and their stupid fucking counteroffer. It's a fucking slap in the face, and I'm not even entertaining the idea."
Harry pulled the phone away from his ear, clicking on End Call before he threw his phone over and onto the wooden desk that sat perpendicular to the vicious New York skyline. His heart raced as he shook his head.
An adrenaline junkie like him fed off of the conversations like these.
His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, his eyes navigated towards the contractual wreckage of paperwork that had seemed to be forgone on his desk as he pushed some of it to the side. His elbows leaned on the desk; his hands tied together as he rested his lips again them in a precocious thought.
Running the company came with a sharp tongue and a knack for knowing when it was time to push back. Harry was a mogul in all of the sense of the word—his company had grown to a gargantuan size, which allowed his position within the business to skyrocket to a level that was so without fail that he couldn't believe it sometimes.
His mouth got the better of him; in some ways, it created the effervescence of attack. It was all that he could do to keep himself from picking the phone back up and telling them to shove it all back up their ass—he refrained for the time being, until he was pushed again.
But no one usually poked the bear unless they truly believed they had a chance in slaughtering them. Mr. Styles was far too confident in his work and his business to ever let that happen.
The bear's claws reacted too quickly for the barrel of the rifle to even face him.
"Uh, excuse me, Mr. Styles?"
His eyes raised to the door that he hadn't seen opening before his lips parted just a bit to answer the woman questioning him. She wore a black skirt with tall, black boots that suited the length of her legs. Her top arranged in a bit of a messy manor, but it was almost as if she had styled it that way to add a bit of flare.
Her blazer hung a bit low—practically to the mid-length of the skirt that rode up her thighs, but he wouldn't have been caught dead staring. In public, anyway.
His eyes made their assessment of her quickly before returning to her naturally, raspberry lips that took up much of her lower face. The natural length of her smile was perfectly proportioned, not that he had spent much time thinking of it, of course.
Felicity—his assistant. The one with eyes the color of the ocean that he would vacation on in the Maldives; the most piercing, stunning blue. The quiet one, a bit shy in her reservations, almost like she was the smallest fish in the ocean made entirely of sharks. Her reservations to others seemed to aid in bulldozing over her confidence, but to Harry, it was an enticing spectacle of fantasy.
A fantasy he'd promise to never share with even his closest comrades, if an NDA wasn't in place, that is.
The dark brown locks settled against her back in heaps of loose, voluminous curls as she held tightly to the phone behind her fingers.
"Am I interrupting?" She asked, her question a bit hesitant as she didn't seem to move any further forward into the large space of his office.
"No—no, you're not," He told her, "Come in, Felicity, I need to use your brain for a moment."
"My brain?" She asked him, cocking her head a bit.
That was the thing about Felicity that almost made him foam at the mouth– her way of innocence and contemplation that allowed him to see his viewpoints from her standpoint.
Harry's company was outsourcing most of the global news which meant that he oversaw several departments within. His leadership was only as good as the recommendations and guidance that Felicity was able to provide him; her devil's advocacy, her interpretation of empathy, and being able to see how interactions happened without Harry present versus the other sense.
Felicity was a practical need in his company for various reasons, not one to just make his blood boil and frantically move around his veins every time he caught a whiff of the coconut lime scent that his mind had become familiar with.
She was a calmness to him in many ways, so her presence now settled his heartbeat from the previous conversation.
"That deal we're making this afternoon, I just got off the phone with Sadler and they're folding– they're becoming weak. And it's pissing my off. They're coming to me to help solve their issues, because they know I can do it. They're , but they know we'll do it. Which pisses me off because it makes us look weak if we just say yes."
Felicity blinked a few times as she watched Harry's reaction, her legs crossed at the feeling before she held her hands in front of her and nodded.
Harry sucked his lips into his mouth before he shook his head, a few of loose curls settled on his forehead as he pushed them back and Felicity wished that he hadn't.
"I think you're going to push them to do it without the counter," Felicity nodded. "From what I'm hearing, they're folding, and they can see that what we can provide is significant. Especially in terms of the election. We can do it– you can do it."
His eyes flew to her word change, noticing that her eyes had moved away from him. The subtle blush of pink ate away at her cheeks before Harry nodded in his own satisfaction.
"Enough about me," He shook his head, "What did you need, Felicity?"
Her eyes raised as it seemed she came back to conclusion about what she had been there for to begin with.
"Oh, I just talked with Nava at PLI and they wanted to express their gratitude towards you, because they said that you helped them with understanding the fundamentals of their offer and I thought it sounded like a for-sure deal– I just wanted you to know that Nava is a yes," She nodded and raised her brows again in remembrance, "Oh! And I'm also running to pick up some coffee and snacks before the board meeting. Flat white?"
Harry smirked at the praise from her, watching it leave her lips effortlessly. He nodded a few times at her question before he rose from his chair and grabbed the tie around his neck to loosen just a bit.
Harry grabbed the paperwork off of his desk before he moved towards the door and guided Felicity to follow. "Yes, please. A flat white with cinnamon, maybe a pump of caramel? What do you think?"
The words were like a question as Felicity walked next to him through the natural, brightly lit office. Her fingers tapped away at the device before she noticed the slight edge of the spicy cologne that wafted from his demeanor as he turned his head toward her.
"I'm not a huge fan of caramel," She stated a bit hesitantly as they stopped in front of one of the offices where Harry was about to go into a meeting.
He looked at Felicity as they stopped, his eyes moving up and down as he went from her lips to her eyes as if involved in a game of ping-pong.
"What do you like, then?" His words were soft, fluid.
Felicity swallowed as she shook her head a few times and nibbled on her lip. She hummed for a moment, "Um, I prefer vanilla."
The corner of Harry's lip moved upwards. "Make it a hot flat white with an extra shot of espresso, cinnamon, and a pump of vanilla, please."
Felicity wrote it down in her notes, but her fingers almost shook with adrenaline as she felt his gaze linger on her without her noticing before she nodded. "Great. I'll– uh, I'll leave now so I can be back in time to make sure you have what you need."
Her feet started to move away before she heard the booming sensation of her name. The way that her eyes fluttered back at him made Harry almost take a step backward.
"Uh," He felt speechless at the sudden look of her, "Please get whatever you need, too." He felt the professionalism start to creep its way back in. "Can't have you falling asleep on the job, you have notes to write."
Felicity bit the inside of her cheek before she nodded. "Yes, sir."
With that, Felicity turned her back and started to head down towards the elevators. Harry turned to make his way into the boardroom where he saw the table sitting and waiting for his arrival.
The hush that fell over the crowd made him shutter every time– the power he held echoed through his conscious at every moment it could.
He only smirked as he sat at the head of the table, pulling himself to sit up and lean on the table before he looked up to see the many eyes staring back at him.
"Shall we get to work then?"
__________________
"This coffee is fucking cold."
One of the board members pushed it away after taking a small sip, as Felicity had just sat it down in front of him.
It was an older gentleman– Hank– who had worked with the Styles family for many years and been able to help SCO with their major launches with other shareholders. His entitlement was present in the room, which pressed on her ego just a bit. Her head turned towards him as she shook hers.
A woman at the end of the time made a face as she looked at the side of the cup, "Ordered a fucking latte—they even messed it up and it's cold. The coffee shop is just down the block."
Felicity tucked some hair behind her ears as she shook her head in a bit of disbelief as she tried to find the receipt that the coffeehouse had given her. There wasn't any way that they gave her the wrong order, but she didn't know if there may have been a mix-up in who she gave the coffees to.
"T-That's impossible—I just order—" But she was cut off by the man who licked over his lips and held his hand up to stop her words from even echoing in the room at all.
"Just go get some hot coffee, would you?"
Felicity's eyes blazed around the room as she noticed that the others had practically ignored her efforts of the two full cardboard contents of coffee cups that she had practically run the streets of New York to pick up. Not only were they not even acknowledging her, but they were condescending in her efforts. Yes, she was an assistant—she wasn't their assistant. It wasn't her fault that she was one person, but she knew that she had to try harder to make the best impression that she could.
"Everyone just shut the fuck up and drink your coffees, would you? Our deadline is in six fucking hours. If you can't handle a little lukewarm coffee, get the fuck out of my office. I pay too much of your goddamn salaries for you to cry like a fucking baby."
Harry's eyes moved to the nervous-looking girl who stood by the door, along the edge of the buffet that held the rest of the coffee, donuts, and bagels that had practically been falling out of her arms when she arrived.
He couldn't tell—it may have been the lighting, but her eyes looked glassy as she tried to stand with her shoulders back. Harry caught her attention before she threw herself back together and walked over towards him, leaning down to where he sat at the table.
"I can run to go get something else, I don't think it would take too long, you know. Or I could order it to be delivered?" Felicity asked, a bit cautious, he could tell. But her piercing blue eyes were practically a shade of gray as he looked at them through her thick, tortoiseshell glasses that complimented the brightness of her eyes.
His eyes fell to the way that the chapstick she always applied gave her lips the most subtle peony color—so pink, but so natural. He thought that may be a better place for his eyes to land instead of directly into her eyes, but then he panicked for a moment and turned them back to her eyes.
"That's not necessary." Harry shook his head, answering for the individuals in the room. Even if they pushed their coffee aside, Harry would have never blamed it on Felicity for any failure—it wasn't her fault. He took a sip of his own; to his dismay, it was a bit cold, but he wasn't going to complain about it.
The stature of Felicity at the door made him take in a deep breath before he caught her attention, asking her to come towards him with just a look before she was practically on top of him. Her willingness to do as he said gave him a feeling of endorphins that were unlike any he had before.
Harry looked up at her from his seat, licking over his lips softly.
"Please make a reservation for two at The Malbec tonight at nine—whether or not these jackasses are going to be done working, I sure am, and I'm going to celebrate it. Add that I would like the executive seating and the Pauillac on the table, not chilled."
She nodded a few times at his requests, adding it into her notes on her phone before she looked back at him cautiously.
"Should I be arranging a car to pick someone up for you?" She asked. Her teeth scraping against her bottom lip as she waited for his response.
Harry shook his head back at her before filing through a few papers, "Not necessary today. Just make sure that you're not off the clock yet," He nods, "In case something doesn't go as planned."
Felicity nodded at the feeling of his eyes on hers before he turned to face the table before him.
"Someone get John on the phone," Harry ordered, his eyes going towards, "Hank. I want their numbers for the day and the plan for the fiscal year. I want to hear it from their lips, the spreadsheets don't mean shit if they're just going to lie to my face. Mary, contact PLI to get their rates."
Felicity had started to make her way towards the door, back towards her desk that sat in the main office towards Harry's own private one, before Harry called her back, "Felicity, sit in this meeting, will you? Grab your computer."
Her eyes narrowed at him in a bit of confusion before he stood up and grabbed a chair from the side of the room and pulled it to the spot next to where he was, at the head of the table.
Felicity did as he wished, leaving to grab her laptop and notebook essentials that she used to keep track of his days, his weeks. When she arrived back, she could feel a few eyes on her as they talked through the deal with John. The silence in the room as he spoke over the speaker was deafening before she sat down at the spot next to Harry.
His focus on the conversation made her attention turn towards him.
Working at SCO was one of Felicity's highest honors—she felt that her confidence was gained just by being in the room with some of these people. But, at the same time, she wondered at what point this would all get to her. She wasn't like this—she didn't have the same cutthroat mindset of tearing another down to get herself to another place.
In some respects, that's what was the balance between what Harry was and what he knew that he needed. He needed someone like Felicity to sit next to him—a calming sensation that he didn't ever notice until he would garner a sniff of the coconut shampoo that drifted from her silky chestnut hair.
It was sickening at times—the way he felt about her. When he was sitting next to her now, he watched as she let her fingers grace over the laptop keys, focused in on whatever task she was working on. His eyes moved away when he watched as her teeth loosened on her lower lip, letting the plumpness of it a drawback to a straightened line of her mouth.
He shifted in his seat as he felt himself get a sensation of pressure below the belt.
When he spoke, it was with a confidence that she couldn't seem to place. It was as if he could break and make with just words alone, a skill that he had to have been born with.
As they discussed the offers more in-depth, Felicity found herself distracted from her own work as she let her eyes gently maneuver back to where Harry sat at the end of the table. Her fingers practically stopped typing as she listened to the conversation and watched as his brain work in overtime.
It wasn't just impressive; it was extraordinary.
The narrowing of his brows, the calculated glance at the table as if he could cut through it with just his sight, the determined clench of his jaw.
"Don't fucking low-ball this," Harry practically snarled as he tapped the point of his pen to his notepad. "I know what's best for this company and we don't want people who underestimate the work and quality of our services. Globally, we're ahead of the entire market– we beat out every major network in significance. If you truly want to hand us a shitty number like that, you'll fucking fall. Your company will fail, and we will continue to sit right at the top as you lick the dirt off our shoes. It's not a competition; we've already won. So, do you want to win with us? That's the question here."
There's a slow chuckle on the phone, a bit of silence, too. Felicity looks up from her laptop to watch as a few members whisper to one another before hearing John on the other end.
"Listen, it's– we understand this. SCO is globally leading, but this is an election year– how are we supposed to gain traction when the news sources from SCO are against the current climate? We just don't see the same vision right now and we need to make sure our values are aligning– SCO may not be leading once the election happens."
Harry's eyes don't dim– Felicity watches as he turns different, his focus staying on the notepad under his fingers as he takes a beat before he stares at the phone in the middle of the table.
Her leg crosses under the table, gently caressing his unbeknownst to her. His eyes falter for once, as she retracts her position when she watches him crack for the first time. She noticed that he faltered but only a small huff of his breath before she bit her lip.
"We're a multi-billion-dollar company that focuses on the current political climate at hand since we completely understand the market, unlike someone who needs to be bought out to ensure that they don't sink. If you're just sitting in the open water, we will look the other way when a shark comes by," Harry shrugs, "I don't quite understand your vision of understanding moral compasses when you're sitting on significant lawsuits and company fouls that don't seem to benefit you right now or the lying, cheating words that come from your mouth."
Felicity's eyes flew up from her place at the table, watching as she saw everyone else's down. It was an unmistakable feeling of vigor that suddenly oozed from the place of Harry's seat. His demeanor was powerful, it was penetrable.
The quietness over the phone doesn't seem to faze anyone else, but Harry's eyebrow arches at the seconds that go by before he pops his tongue into the side of his mouth with a cheeky grin that was questioning on mad.
"Looks like they just got eaten by that fucking shark, huh." He says quietly before leaning over to press onto the conference room phone. He ended the call before he watched the room continue in silence.
Another woman, Laura, sitting at one of the sides spoke up as she held her phone in her hands.
"It looks like they're countering again." It was a bit quiet, almost like she didn't want the entire room to hear as she read on her phone before looking up at Harry, who held the emotion of a bear.
"Tell them they can choke on their own spit." He bites before Felicity cleared her throat.
His eyes immediately softened at the way that she interrupted, mostly because he was a bit confused by it.
"Mr. Styles," She pipped, "I—I, um, if I may." She chews on her lip a bit before she takes in a breath. "It sounds like they're needing a bit more leverage. Maybe a bit more face-to-face interaction that will cut and garner the deal. You're going to need more than John's input; he needs more intel from other aspects to understand what their losses look like."
Harry's eyes simply rest on Felicity as he leans back in the office chair, his legs crossed—a pursed pout on his lips as he nods at her words. A trickle of egotistical pride lies beneath his chest as he stares at her for a moment.
"Set the scene for me." He tells her, before watching Felicity take a deep breath. He watches her chest fall and rise and something about it sets him into high gear.
"Your family started this from scratch—this company is bigger than just the cash flow, and it's completely understood that it's worth billions, but they need to understand that there's a larger purpose for the work that they've put into it. They're not on the same business level that SCO is—it's apparent by the way that they throw around their value system. Meet with John outside of the office setting, get him where he can be able to see that you're serious without the psychological barrier of the phone—"
"That's fucking bullshit." Felicity hears from down the table, another man making a comment about her complete train of thought that. "You really think business is about emotion?"
Harry narrowed his brows, Felicity a bit surprised but not completely. Her head turning back towards her computer.
"You need to be thinking internally for what's best for us, not babying them to give us what we want. You know they're going to fall right into our hands, we don't need to get soft on them." Mary, a woman that Felicity generously thought would at least have an understanding of her interests, seemed to shame her more.
Harry pursed out his lips as he stares at the notepad in front of him. He pushed his hands against the table to rise from his seat before he's raised, watching silently as he eyes Felicity quickly before he starts to make his way out of the room. Before he does so, he turns his back and holds onto the door before he looks at Felicity directly.
"Felicity, please meet me in my office."
She swallows down the lump in her throat; cursing herself for even making a peep. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut. Instead, she closed the laptop before she grabs the few belongings and makes her way out of the door.
Harry is steps ahead of her, not looking back, as they make their way to the office that sits in the north side of the larger office space.
When he walks in, he makes his way to his desk before leaning on it. Felicity walks in behind him, hesitating before
Harry notices that she hasn't fully made her way in yet.
"Come in," He tells her, "Take a seat."
Her words practically spilling out of her as soon as they reached the threshold of the door; there was nothing that she could say now that would make him keep her there, but she wanted to at least try.
"I-I know I overstepped my boundaries– I promise, I really do, I promise I will never do that again," She's holding the laptop against her chest, practically begging, "This is extremely unprofessional, but you need to know that I need this–"
"Do you know why you're still here, Felicity?" He asks, "Why you're still at SCO?"
His interrupted words make hers fall short as she stands at the door still. His arms are holding himself practically against the desk as he leans back against it.
Tears threaten her eyes as she tries to think of what she needs to pack from her desk quickly. This feels entirely too personal– he's firing her on the spot.
She shakes her head as she doesn't want to come up with an answer. Harry squints his eyes a bit as he notices the emotion that starts to creep on her face. All the sudden, he feels bad for what he's doing to her.
It feels a bit forward, maybe a bit out of his place. But he needs her to know exactly how he feels about her, and why the last assistants never stuck around.
He needs her to know that's she's different.
"It's because you're fucking smart," He tells her, "What you have, they lack. You have this– well, for lack of a better word, you're emotional. You can see beyond the bullshit and really down to the person." He points towards the area of the conference room that they just left.
"I'm not here to baby your ass or carry you through this job– you don't need this fucking job. You have so much more about you than being an assistant, okay? So, don't take what some fuckers in that office say about you and your ideas as gospel. They aren't getting it done, either– as you can see."
Felicity's demeanor loosens at his words; her knuckles along the laptop at her chest starts to loosen as she breathes in just a bit.
"I'm sorry–"
"Stop apologizing." He orders, "When you do that, all you're doing is making them right about you. They aren't."
There's a silence between them for a moment before Felicity nods a few times and bites at her lip. "You're right."
"Most of the time." He tells her, a smirk has replaced the seriousness of their conversation. "That's why I have this big office and a 300ft. yacht and they don't."
She follows with her own small, sided smirk, watching as he goes to move from his position.
"That sounded very cocky, I'm sorry." He laughed a little bit, lowering his head as he felt a bubble of laughter. Felicity followed behind, laughing a bit as she bit on her lower lip.
The tension had been cut; this overwhelming feeling of comfort had started to come across her, specifically when Harry looked back up at her and she could see the shining level of his green eyes and the deepening dimples crossing his face.
It wasn't an emotion she saw very often; it looked impossibly lovely on him.
"Stop saying sorry, remember?" She reminded him, a sheepish smile laying on her lips.
Harry moved his fists into his pockets as he started to walk a bit towards her.
It was then that Felicity recognized that his pure power and force was enough to knock her down to her knees. The way that he stood up, his suit tailored perfectly around his small hips and shoulders, she couldn't understand the feeling that had come over her suddenly.
Harry approached her, they were standing eye to eye as he searched between them both. He had been searching for something, surely, by the way his eyes moved between her own.
Felicity tipped her chin up a little bit; it was slight enough that they both noticed, but a sudden embarrassment crossed her thought at the way she had possibly invited a completely inappropriate behavior.
"Let's get back in there, yeah?" She clears her throat as she turned her head and body, moving back out towards the conference room.
Harry's fists tightened next to him at the way she moved away, and he couldn't help but shutter at what could have possibly happened moments ago.
He lowered his head before he shook it a few times, "Yes, of course," He confirmed, nodding at her, "I'll follow you back, I'm just going to," He felt himself getting hot which made him feel vulnerable to her stares. "I'll be in there in a moment."
Felicity turned, her hair falling over her shoulders before she nodded. "Yeah, no problem."
Before she was able to move out of the room, Harry caught her attention once again before he narrowed his eyes to her. "Can I—that reservation I asked you to schedule. Please move it to Friday night. Something's come up, actually."
Felicity made a motion to speak, but she didn't end up with any words. Instead, just nodding a few times, her eyes smiling back at him as she agreed to his request. "Sure, no problem."
Her smile had vanished from his view as she turned to walk back to the conference room.
When she noticed that she was out of sight, his eyes had widened just at the breath that he had been holding in. It didn't matter how big or important a meeting could be, Harry never got nervous. He was never worried about anything—he knew what he was getting himself into, and nothing scared him. There wasn't a reason to be.
Standing in front of Felicity was a feeling he had never imagined would give him a doubt; he never felt like he would be pushed away or turned away, and the feeling of dismissal was encapsulating, to say the least.
He pushed his hand into his hair as he went to sit in the chair that was pushed in behind his desk, swallowing the lump in his throat as he shook his head.
Never in a million years did he think that he would feel such a way—never like this.
"Let's get back to work, then."
_______________
It had been a few days since the encounter in his office. Harry had noticed that even the next morning, Felicity seemed to be in much better spirits. Her head was held high; her shoulders were sitting back, like she was prepared to keep her chin up for the day.
He could catch glimpses from his office, watching as she typed away or smiled down at her phone. A piece of him felt only the slightest bit of—he didn't know the feeling very well—jealous. He wanted to know more, wanted to understand what she could have been smiling at.
He knew that his job had been done a few days ago as he watched her spirits rise just at his words. Something about that feeling was missing now—he didn't understand what it was, but his ego may have been getting in the way just a bit.
Harry sat his pen down that he had been using to write out some tasks before he grabbed the pad of paper and started to make his way out of his office. The small desk that sat outside of his was taken by Felicity; a few photos and memorabilia sat to give her space a bit of light and personalization.
It didn't mimic Harry's own office very well, as his was kept more straightforward and narrower. There wasn't any photos or personalized mementos—just plain, really. But the photo of Felicity and another man caught his eye, something he had never really seen before. Something he never felt that he would have had to pay attention to, that is.
"That your boyfriend?" He felt himself saying, but an ultimate feeling of embarrassment rose as he watched Felicity look up at him quickly. It was clear that she hadn't really noticed him sneak up on her, and her hands flew to the phone on the desk before closing the screen promptly.
"Uh," She shook her head, "I—I mean, we've been talking a few months," She referenced to the phone before she looked back at Harry and noticed that there may have been a bit of miscommunication.
"Oh—uh, no, sorry," He shook his head, pointing to the photo that sat on her desk. "I was—that photo, I'd never seen that before."
Felicity turned her eyes towards the photo that sat on her desk in the black frame before letting out a breath of relief. "Oh! No, that's my brother." She laughed a little bit before she watched Harry reach out to grab the picture frame off her desk.
He studied it for a few seconds, letting his smile move up a bit before he sat it back down. "Yeah, you guys look alike. I just—it was new, so I didn't know."
Felicity bit on her lip before tucking her hair behind her ears, "No—yeah, I would make that assumption, too. It's fine, but yeah." She didn't know that he would notice that she set up the photo or not. She knew now that he paid attention; he had an attention to detail, it seemed.
The small moment gave Harry a bit of concern as he felt that there was some unresolved feeling between the two of them. He cleared his throat, holding the paper out before her as she piqued at the small task guide that Harry had been feverishly writing down.
"I have a few things that I need to get done today, if you don't mind." He had handed her the paper before her eyes ran over it a few times. "It's just a few little things, but I need to have a few suits dry-cleaned for our business summit on Monday in England—I'm flying out tomorrow morning on the jet, but we'll need to make sure that everything is taken care of for that. I believe you, myself, Laura, Hank, Daniel, and probably William will be there, so we'll need to make—"
"Excuse me, but," Felicity chuckled before shaking her head a few times. "Did you say me?"
Harry blinks a few times in confusion before he bites the inside of his cheek. Surely, she knew that she would be leaving in the morning– she had to have known that as his assistant, she would be most responsible for being on the trip.
"Uh, well," Harry blinked, "Yes, I mean. of course. You're the most vital person for the trip, really."
Felicity bit into her lip before she turned towards her notes, her eyes flickering over them as she realized she wouldn't need to send him a detailed email of their agenda– she'd be there to tell him in person. So, all this work—it didn't matter now.
"Right– yeah, of course. I'm stupid for not putting that together." She shook her head as she took in a sigh, crossing out a few notes on her pad. She turned her attention back to him before she cleared her throat. "What time should I be at the airport tomorrow, then?"
Harry bit his lip, shrugging as he felt the smile crossing his lips, "I don't know—you tell me. You're my assistant."
Felicity blinked at him a few times before laughing out a little bit, letting her head rest in her hands as she felt a bit ridiculous for feeling so caught off guard. "Right—right. I—yeah."
In the back of his head, there was a delicate feeling of intrigue that bit at the back of him. He squinted his eyes a bit as he settled against the edge of her desk. As he crossed his arms over his chest, he narrowed his attention down to Felicity until she looked up at him and felt the wandering look. All Felicity knew is that she didn't want to look at the way that his forearms protruded against the fabric of his pressed white button-down.
"Is everything alright?" He asked her, the smile on his lips tug briefly before he was letting it fully on display. "You seem a bit... caught up."
She blinked a few times, shaking her head as she looked at her computer screen. "I'm fine—yeah. I'm just—I was a bit caught up, I guess," She chewed on her lip as she realized that getting personal was just that. It was personal. She didn't want to bore him or let know too far in. Their relationship was strictly business; it seemed that she endeared him though.
Her eyes traveled back to him when he didn't seem to leave her alone and she noticed that she'd had another message.
"I'm just... the guy I've been seeing, well, on and off—he just asked me to dinner and he's picking me up from here tonight around five. We haven't seen each other in a while, he's a bit..." She bites her lip again as she tried to find the right word, "I don't hear from him often. But when we're together, everything is fine. So, I guess I just got a bit overwhelmed with it."
Harry pinches the inside of his bicep when she speaks, his smile fading just a bit. He didn't want her to notice that, though. He didn't know why, but it left a sour taste in his mouth to think that she had been excited for someone who was making her wait. Instead, he shifted a bit on the desk as he cleared his own throat before speaking.
"That's—that's great," He tells her, watching as she smiles at his appreciation and acceptance, "Where is he taking you?"
"We're just going to this place off from fifth avenue, some place he said is nice. We're really just meeting for a beer or something." Felicity's eyes light up at the realization before she turns to face him a bit head on now, her chair swiveling around before she crosses her legs and faces him. "What about you, though? That reservation I made for you tonight—who are you meeting with?"
Harry's lip parted as he remembered the reservation.
He remembered the reservation he had moved to tonight, simply so that he could flesh out a few details with Felicity over a dinner with just the two of them. Of course, he hadn't mentioned it to her. It was stupid of him to think that she wouldn't be busy on a Friday evening, of course. He had wanted to talk to her about the upcoming week; maybe get a little more out of her if everything was off the record at a dinner that wasn't going on the company credit card, but his own personal dollar.
Harry shakes his head a bit before he scratches at the back of his head, "Uh, right. I—I might need to cancel that. I don't think that's going to happen anymore."
Felicity watches his expression before she seems to mimic with a bit of somber. "Oh. Sorry. Tough subject?"
When he pushed himself from her desk, he placed his hands in his pockets before he hung his head a little bit. It hadn't occurred to him that the disappointment had been a bit stronger than anticipated-- and it wasn't just because he always got what he wanted.
"Hm, something like that," He tried to explain before he changed the subject to get it off his mind, "But yeah. So, dry-cleaning and all that can be finished before the morning, yeah? If you have any questions about any of that, I'll be in my office. Meeting at one and then I'm going to leave here around five."
Giving him a warm smile, Felicity nodded her head at him, watching as he turned to his office.
Her attention fell back to her phone; falling back to the smile and giddiness that had been so rudely interrupted by a different kind of feeling—one that she wasn't so sure she was supposed to enjoy, in that way, anyways.
_______________
The black Suburban pulled up against the curb; Harry's phone against his ear as he moved towards the vehicle in a fluid motion.
A driver had opened the door before he crawled in the back seat. The call on the other end had been a business call that he was supposed to listen in on; he wasn't going to speak, just listen to the meeting of what was said. He decided it had been enough and clicked it to end before he looked up and out of the window.
His head turned towards the door before he watched Felicity standing at the curb. She looked uncomfortable as she stood and had her eyes searching for whatever it was that she was looking for.
It was a little bit past six then; the rest of the day was filled with a meeting or two before he really started to get more work, letting his head get wrapped up in taking calls and finishing off emails before he would be away from the office for a bit.
This was how they left each other on most days; his car pulled up, and he usually drove away before he could notice if she caught another ride or if she headed towards the subway. Her eyes were searching— almost like she had been waiting for something or someone but didn't want to seem disappointed. Harry could feel it in his chest—he could feel the way that she stood with her arms crossed over her chest in a bit of distress.
It had occurred to him then that Felicity had mentioned that she was supposed to be picked up around five—a full hour ago.
The rain had started just a bit, enough that she quickly looked to the sky for a moment as if to curse it.
He watched as her phone fumbled in her hands. A discerned look on her face made him halt the driver before they could start pulling away. Harry watched her, the knowing look on his face as he rolled down the window to call out towards her.
"Felicity," He stated, opening the door before he stepped out. "Come on, get in."
Her eyes looked to him, practically mortified. Her head started to shake a bit before he moved out of the car just enough that she noticed his offer was serious and that he wasn't moving. The door was open now as he stood outside of it and held it open for her.
"Let's go– it's raining." He said, squinting a bit as the rain started coming down a bit more.
It seriously took Harry a moment before he realized that it may take a bit more for Felicity to listen to him; her contemplation didn't last long as the rain started to hit the cement loudly—her papers and bag held over her head as she made her way towards the open door of the large vehicle.
Felicity's heels clicked against the sidewalk as she hurried into the back of the van, crawling across to the other side and trying to keep her skirt down as she realized he would be coming right behind her.
There was a brief pause of silence when the door shut behind Harry.
Once they were situated in the backseat, Harry looked at her for a moment as she seemed a bit out of sorts. Her eyes were on her phone as she cleared her throat.
Her eyes were narrowed down as she searched through some texts, a bit all over the place it seemed. Harry knew Felicity better than this, and her nerves were starting to overwhelm her hand, almost like she was completely unsure of what was happening right now.
"Do you just—do you mind dropping me off at fifth ave—" She had started, but he was already shaking his head.
"He's not showing up, so no. Peter, drop us at The Malbec."
Her head turned towards him at the bluntness of his tone and the way that he resisted her need. The way that he answered her was unlike he had ever spoken to her; that caught her off guard the most.
Felicity flipped through her texts once again before she scoffed out, "Harry, I have a date tonight. I'll just get a car from there—"
"No, you won't." He told her, before situating himself in the back. The way that her hair had a bit of windswept to it, the length of her lashes, the complete blush of her cheeks—it was all enough for him to generally bust at the seams.
Seeing her like that was a wake-up call as he looked away and tried his best to be a gentleman.
"I'm off the clock, so my duties are relinquished for the night." She told him sharply, giving herself a bit more voice before Harry really glared at her this time. He had never heard her speak to him in such a way, but something about it gave him a mouthful to bite from.
"Don't fucking talk to me like that, I'm your boss." He told her; his eyes seemingly turning a darker color the more she stared at him. It was enough for her to scoff and turn her head out of the window as they had started to drive up towards the restaurant that she refused to go to.
Harry spoke again, this time a bit softer. "It's just dinner. No work."
It takes a moment before Felicity leans into the window and lets her head rest against the glass. The feeling of the coolness takes over before she shuts her eyes for a moment. It doesn't feel like she wants to cry, but maybe there's a bit of emotion that she can't seem to let go of.
The disappointment aspect was never good to her; that was how this always worked. Something always disappointed her. There hadn't been a moment when she felt comfortable or safe—no, really, she just wandered around in this life with so much hope. So much hope and very little pride, now.
She lived for the hope of it all.
When they made their way to the restaurant, it had started to rain a little less. It was merely a sprinkle before Peter pulled off to the curb closest and the two of them were able to get out.
Felicity was instructed that she could leave her work items in the car, bringing only her purse as Harry followed behind her. When they walked into the restaurant, her eyes widened at how fancy it was—the dim lit lights were much brighter than the sky had been at this time of day, especially when the clouds rolled in.
The host was able to take them directly to their seats—the ones that Felicity had made the reservation for. It was an intimate seat; two chair and a small table that were seated close to the window, but enough away from everyone else.
The Paulliac was on the table as instructed; the host pulled the chair out for Felicity before she was able to take a seat. The only reason she would have ever been to a restaurant like this is for a work event. The host sat menus in front of them before giving them some space.
Harry pushed his sleeves up on his forearm; the littering of tattoos on him was endearing to Felicity's eye before she looked away at the attention she was drawing to them.
"Wine?" He asked her softly, taking the bottle from the table and holding it out in a means to offer her some. She had agreed, nodding a few times before looking at the menu and the items on it. Surely, she couldn't pronounce half of them before she looked up to see that Harry had been looking at her already and her cheeks grew rosier.
Felicity felt that there was a tenseness now, like she didn't have too much to say. She didn't want to say too much and bore him, she didn't want to not say a word and feel the awkwardness that seemed to linger as they sat longer.
"I mean, since we're here," Felicity grabbed the phone from her purse as she scrolled through it, pushing her hair out of her face to tame it a bit from the frizz that the rain caused, "So, just to recap some new additions to the calendar, you have a dental appointment next Monday, a meeting with PLI at 10—"
"You said you grew up in DC, didn't you?" Harry cuts her off, his question making her turn to look at him with a solid glance before she starts to nod a few times. It was a bit unwarranted, but she decided that she would settle into it.
Felicity doesn't know why his soft voice seems so foreign from the bitter sound of his usual bite.
"Y-Yes, yeah, I grew up in Northern Virginia, actually." She gives him a solid answer before she licks her lips. Her hand moves to grab the wine glass, taking a solid sip before she places it back into its spot on the white knit tablecloth.
Harry nods at her simple answer, not necessarily looking for anything else. His head was filled with the worked he had been processing through the week, and something about this felt... warranted. He wanted this to be normal; to feel like she could see him from a different perspective, maybe, without less fear in her eyes.
Something about her makes his blood boil with a derailment—it's almost like he can't seem to read her, which makes him angry and animalistic, almost. He doesn't know why but he feels a bit shy in her presence.
Her eyes read over the menu before she clicks her tongue, "Anything on here that you would recommend?"
"You have any food aversions?" He asks, pretending to look over the menu as if he didn't already know what he was going to order.
She shook her head, not really thinking of anything. She knew that there were foods she didn't particularly enjoy, but she knew that if something was going to be expensive, she would put that aside to at least try.
When the waiter came by, Harry took initiate to order for the table– the two of them. He ordered an entrée, three appetizers, and a spring salad. Felicity listened as he did so, knowing that he knew what he wanted and when he wanted it.
She couldn't relate to that; not these days, at least. She didn't know what she wanted, so she pretended not to think about it most days. Instead, she recognized that not putting the pressure on it made it feel like it was enough; she had to understand that she was okay to be a bit unsure at times.
The restaurant has a crowded chatter amongst the guests, but Harry can't help but pay attention to the silence of the table instead.
"So," He pulls at the tie around his neck just a bit as he leans towards her at the table. "I'm thinking of possible meeting with PLI, in person. Like you mentioned this week, at that meeting. Something about looking someone in the eye might be the best approach and making sure everything is clean."
His eyes lifted to meet hers, watching as she took another sip of the wine. Her eyes were placed now on her hands that laid in her lap.
"Thought this wasn't a work dinner." She mumbled out, but suddenly caught herself, "But yeah– yeah, I think that would be good."
Harry pressed his tongue into his cheek, tilting his head a little bit as he heard her questioned statement. His frustration at not being able to read her was posing a threat to his mood before he shrugged a little bit, "It doesn't have to be, but you are kind of quiet, and I feel like I made you uncomfortable in the car. Or something."
"I'm not uncomfortable," She lied, "I'm– I don't know. I'm just a bit thrown by the events of the evening, and I think men are kind of preposterous right now. Please don't take that personally, and really, no offense or anything."
Harry shrugged, his lips turning downwards as he contemplated the truth in her statement, "None taken. I may agree with you, but," He licked his lips, "Can we agree that women are sometimes a bit..."
As he hesitated for a moment, Felicity spoke instead. "I would suggest that you not finish that sentence, probably. It sounds like the beginning of an HR concern."
Harry lifts a brow in curiosity from her argument that seemingly pushed her a bit out of the boundaries, "You can speak, but I can't? Don't believe that's a fair view of how you think women should live in society, is it? You want fair treatment, so I'm going to be honest with you."
"I didn't limit you from speaking, I just suggested that you should not. You can definitely say whatever it is that you'd like to say to me, Mr. Styles." Felicity shook her head a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear. The way that she said his name always made him a bit woozy.
There was a moment when Harry wasn't completely sure that he didn't see the glimmer in her eye—that he didn't see a sparkle that may have been a fleeting moment, just a quick nod to him before it was gone forever, making him look mad for even thinking it in the first place.
"I will say it, then, if you're willing to listen," Harry told her, "I think that men and women aren't usually equal—nor should they be," He paused for a moment before he watched as her facial expression started to contour with a confusion so loud that he was certain the chefs in the back could hear. "I think that we live in a balancing act. For instance, the guy that you were looking to see—sure, he's probably an asshole, but you continued to want to see him. The pendulum works both ways. Maybe you shouldn't have wanted to meet up with him."
Felicity scoffed out a breath before she took a sip of the wine again—she could feel that there was a growing fuzziness that she wasn't able to keep up with. "Oh, you're giving me relationship advice now?"
The way that she bit when she had a bit of alcohol in her made Harry's eyes turn a darker shade of green that was unable to be noticed by the dimness of the restaurant that sat in. It was much more direct than she ever had been with him before; he wondered if this was how she was normally.
"I like to think I have your best interest in mind." He tells her with full honesty, feeling a bit bare with the truth laying flat on the table.
There is a moment that Felicity feels her heartstring tug, wondering if he meant it to hit her as specifically as it did. But she clears her throat when she watches the way that Harry refills the glass of red wi the out her asking for it, noticing that he fingers tremble when he grabs the bottle.
"I— I really do appreciate it, like, what you– I mean, you probably don't remember, but just this week with the whole coffee incident–"
Felicity is cut-off, by him, but she can see that the anger peculates off of him as he recalls the incident, "I hate that they think people are below them like that. It bothers the shit out of me," She can tell that the thought bothers him; his eyes narrow down as he takes a sip of his own wine, "Yes, it's your fucking job, but it's also not worth their time to be shitty to you for something you can't control. And you couldn't be nicer, grateful, kind—"
Harry's cut off by the food coming to the table. He shakes his head at the possible embarrassment he may encounter from the softness of rambling he had started to portray about some of her highest qualities.
The dinner that came out was exceptional— nothing less of what Felicity could have imagined. It was top-tier; the wine that was paired with it made her giggle a few times when Harry would go on rants about the way that he thought some of the companies ran. He would start the conversation with, 'off the record' and she would smile about how he could keep their conversations low.
It wasn't until she had told a soft-spoken jab about how she believed that he needed to stop hiring old, white men that she noticed that his dimples were parallel on either side of his face. They lit up his features, turning his eyes the color of a southern sky.
When they had finished, Harry took the check with ease and signed his name in capital letters, as if he wanted everyone to know that he had spent the amount of money at dinner that she spent in a month of rent.
Harry placed his hand on the small of her back as they maneuvered out to the car. The street was starting to become a bit crowded, especially at the door for the wait. Harry had texted his driver to make sure they could be picked up, which again, he made sure to open the door for her as they flew into the backseat.
Felicity told the driver where she needed to go; back to her apartment that sat on the upper West side of the city. It was close to Central Park; a few blocks away, she'd say.
There's a moment when Harry feels that he doesn't want the night to end. He surely doesn't want to watch her leave— that's for sure. The car ride is spent with him catching her glances as they watch the lights in the city pass by; the honking of the cars and the putter of rain starts to encapsulate the backseat.
"Is this good for drop off?" The driver asks, looking in the rearview mirror at Felicity before she nods, agreeing with a soft yes, and starts to collect her things. The items she had brought from work were still in their place.
Harry watched as she goes to speak, knowing that it was going to be a goodbye. He would surely see her in the morning, but he couldn't bare the idea of flying across the ocean, staring at her across the seat from himself, without any words left unspoken.
"Uh," He shifted a bit in the back of the car, Felicity could see that he was looking up towards the building that she called her own. "Do you actually mind if—uh, I really have to piss."
Her eyes widened a bit before she let her own lips widen into a smirk. "Oh— yeah, please."
It hadn't occurred to her until they were walking up the steps and into the building that she may have had some underwear on the floor and could potentially have a sink filled with dirty dishes— she couldn't quite remember.
But what she did know was that Harry was following in her steps as they climbed a few flights until they reached the third floor.
"Quite a workout, huh?" Harry puffed as they reached the front door to her specific apartment.
"Hm," She hummed, "Imagine having to move all of my furniture up here. I had to ask random men on the street to help me."
Felicity digs into her purse before she's able to find the keys to the front door.
"I don't want to be super nosy," He looked around the small vestibule that they were standing in while Felicity tried to find her keys—even though the purse she held was naturally quite small. "But is there any reason you live in a place that resembles a prison?"
Felicity chuckled out a laugh before she found the small keyring and tried to put it into the lock. Her hands were a bit unsteady—the wine was holding the buzz over her as she steadied her hands to unlock the small door.
"This is what livable looks like in New York," The door swung open; Felicity moved into the tiny apartment before placing her bag on the kitchen counter. "Maybe I need to have a discussion with my boss about a raise."
It wasn't the smallest apartment, but it was exactly what she needed. There was no storage space, but there was a separate room for each need—living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. She had a small working office in the corner by the balcony that she had been lucky enough to score from this specific unit.
Harry looked around the place, his eyes feasting on every detail. "That can probably be arranged if I can be certain that you won't get mugged getting into your front door."
He noticed how lived in it felt—the opposite of the cool, modern, high-end penthouse he would resort to later that evening. Everything was painted a different color of beige, keeping the lightness of the empty place very noticeable.
There were photos on the walls, painting and portraits, there were words that resembled some of her favorite music and books. It was colorful and there were plants that were seemingly a bit out of control.
"The bathroom is right there, by the way." Felicity pointed, before Harry turned towards the small room to his left.
"Thanks." He stated before he moved into it and shut the door behind him.
It was the same reaction he had to the living room and kitchen; his eyes narrowed in on the details of the shower curtain and the small bottles of serum that sat along her sink. The way that her toothbrush was bright pink, matching the towels that hung on the wall.
There were delicate parts of her that he was certain she wouldn't have told him about because she didn't think that it mattered. But in the long run, he liked the bits of color and the pieces of art that hung next to her sink.
It was a detail he hadn't really thought about of her before.
When he had come back, he stared at her position in front of the sink. Her sleeves were rolled up as she washed a few dishes that had been sitting there. Her heels has been removed, but the jacket and the short skirt still hung from her delicate frame as he watched the way that she focused on a task.
She noticed that he was looking at her now before she gave a small smile and felt that he wasn't in a hurry to leave.
"I would offer you something to drink—I mean, I would offer you anything, but I'm not really," She looked around the kitchen. "I have coffee and vodka. And not like," She scrunched her brows together as she looked in her fridge. "Not good vodka. You would look down on me if I served you this, kind of vodka."
Harry let his smile tilt up a bit as he meandered into the small space of the kitchen. If she was offering him anything—
"You really think I'm that much of a snob?" He smirked.
Felicity huffed a little bit as she turned her head towards him, "The wine we drank tonight was $600 a bottle."
He doesn't say anything for a moment before he tilts his head a bit and shrugs off the comment. He wonders if she thinks of him differently—not for being her boss, but for having a high taste. Possibly the earlier of the two, too.
"I grew up that way, I guess. It's hard to decipher what's normal." He tries to explain to her, which makes her look at him with a mockery of a face. Her eyes roll with a smile, and he gives her a look of disdain.
She goes to respond to him, but instead he moves his body practically over top of her back to grab the vodka that sits on the second shelf of the fridge. It's a bottle that cost Felicity about $12.75 just the other week, and it has a good amount still left in it. Harry holds the neck of it in his hands before he looks at it and sets it down on the counter.
"Lemons? Juice? Anything?" He asks; taking the liberty himself to look through one of the cabinets to try and find himself a glass. Felicity stays still for a moment before she's able to grasp the magnitude of the situation.
Her boss—Harry Styles, CEO, is standing in her kitchen and trying to make himself a cocktail with her $12.75 vodka that she had bought at the bodega just a few days prior. He's perusing through the cabinets—the few that she had—before he turns to her.
"Uh, I have a bar cart." She tells him solidly, before she moves her way into the living room where the car sat. Her head is feeling fuzzy, and she wonders if adding the vodka to it will make her completely lose all faith in herself. She has a feeling it will make her say something absolutely ridiculous, to him of all people.
Felicity grabs the shaker, two glasses, a lemon from one of the small bowls that she uses for décor but also for moments like this and makes her way to the kitchen where Harry has already taken the ice trays out. When he looks back up at her, he nods back to where she came from, her eyes following his gaze.
"Go sit on the couch, let me make you a drink." He tells her, "You had a long week."
"I'm going to be completely honest with you," She folds her hands together before he looks at her with a bit of a concerned look, "I don't know if I like the roles reversed like this."
He gives her a smug smile before he turns back to what he had been doing previously; now filling up the shaker with ice before he poured a few seconds worth of vodka into it.
"You think I'm a stuck-up prick," He tells her, "Let me show you that I'm not, will you?"
The statement that he left on his lips settled in the air between them; Felicity blew it away as she breathed outwards and just nodded in place. She suddenly became a bit meek before she made her way back to the sofa where she settled into the cloudy cushions, sitting with her legs underneath of her as she tried not to flash anything from her skirt. She heard Harry mixing the cocktails in the glass shaker, shortly before coming out with two glasses in his hands.
He hands over a glass that looks solemnly... clear. Maybe a bit too clear, but she felt satisfied to know that he was trying his best to make a spot in her world. She didn't have to climb to his level, he was trying to stay at hers.
"To..." He trailed off as he held his glass up to her. The small loveseat that they sat on felt incredibly intimate all the sudden.
"To... London?" Felicity stated, "To having to be up tomorrow at five, but continuing to drink even though we can get to London."
Harry laughed at her words before he clinked his glass against hers, "To London."
The way that his accent wrapped itself around certain words held her attention briefly before she was able to take a sip of the cocktail he prepared. Strong wasn't the word; overkill may have been more like it.
"Holy fuck," She coughed softly before she felt a sting in her eyes, "That's—please never go into bartending."
A subtle look of offense took over his face as he went to take a sip of his own before he widened his eyes at the flavor of it. "Oh, shit. Yeah, wow. That—that'll do some damage."
Felicity started to laugh at his own reaction before she sat the drink down on the coffee table and watched Harry do the same.
"So, to brief then," She stated, "I believe that it's still true that you're just a stuck-up snob who can't do anything on his own, including making a cocktail."
Harry stood up for a moment but took offense to her comment. He started to remove his jacket, which only intrigued her—it meant he was staying a while longer. "Hey, to my defense, your fridge is very, very sad. There was not much I could have done to make this better. If you're going to drink vodka, at least buy a decent brand."
Felicity tucked the hair behind her ear, "I'm here to make vodka Sprite's, okay? Not martinis," She leaned against the back of the sofa, "And there you go again with being the rich snob."
It was annoying to her that he had decided to roll up his sleeve, just enough on his forearm that she was able to see the tattoos that weren't seen very often. Seldom, really. In the office, she would notice that he would be focusing on something in his office, his sleeve rolled up a bit, but that was the extent of it.
It seemed there were many more up his arm than she had initially thought, but she knew that she would never see them all.
When he went to sit down, he went to move the throw pillow behind his arm, but as he did so, he noticed something black against the white couch cushion.
Immediately, his fingers flew to the item before he lifted the lace that held his attention quite mesmerizingly. Felicity gasped at the realization before she grabbed them from his hands, absolutely mortified didn't even cut it.
"I'm so embarrassed," She finally spoke, almost trying to blame the redness of her cheeks on the strong beverage he gave her. She knew that it was the inflammation of her dignity, not the vodka.
There wasn't a word spoken before she watched that his expression changed surprisingly. He took a long sip of the vodka drink before setting it back down.
But the smile that follows from the cocktail is all she needs to see before she can smile back.
"You continue to surprise me," His words were placed with a package of slurring vocab before he swallows back anything else he'd say out of pocket, "I'm going to be very honest that I didn't imagine you as— I mean, I never imagined you in lace."
"You say that like you imagined me in something else." The words that came from Felicity weren't her own—she didn't know why she said them, but his quick rebuttal shut her up completely.
"Silk, probably," He uses his finger to touch the rim of the rocks glass that he's holding, where the condensation made a drip over the dress pants that situation themselves over his thighs, so lucky. "Or—I mean, you could surprise me even more," He went quick after a moment.
Silence. Protruding silence that is viciously capturing them in this haze of only breath that either of them can hear. It's uninterrupted until Harry leans his head back and the creaking on the sofa fills Felicity's head, rather than the idea of what's to come.
She had felt it before; the warranted tension that Harry seemed to have over her. Maybe it was her fault for leaning into it, but sometimes, she just couldn't help it. The way that he found himself taken by her was just unspoken most of the time. She was surprised that he wouldn't have pulled anything at dinner, but she could fill in the blanks as she invited him up to her apartment.
It was inevitable, she thought.
She shouldn't have done that, but should not's were not what she was thinking about as she drowned herself in the alcoholic state of the sour vodka that wafted of lemon juice and baited words.
Instead, Felicity blinked a few times, watching as he stared at the ceiling. The blankness of the pure white ceiling seemed to keep him grounded before she watched his jaw tighten.
"You're full of surprises, a lot of mystery, you know?" Harry breathed out. The tie around his neck was getting tight, but he couldn't loosen it now—if he was being honest, it was adding to the pleasure of the moment. He wouldn't speak that out, but while the tightness caused a bit of discomfort, he thought of it in other instances. "I'm not sure I can keep up with it."
There was an unresolved tension in the words he spoke, maybe even a bit of slur in them before Felicity followed suit; her head resting practically next to his as she stared at the blank white ceiling that had very little to memorize or stare at.
"What fun is a mystery if it's solved?"
He wasn't sure if she saw—he wasn't sure if she saw the way that his eyes fluttered at the thought of uncovering every instance of mystery that she kept hidden away, in this small apartment. The air was starting to become lost on them, feeling like the oxygen was being pulled as he breathed. The shakiness of his breath was caught by her when she turned her head—she wished that she hadn't.
All she could process was the way that his eyes stared upwards, lips parted in an unsure manner before she watched his eyebrows knit in a deep thought that she couldn't seem to interpret. But this pique of interest held her as she kept her eyes on him—he could feel every deep breath that she tried to mask.
"I don't know if you knew this about me," He quietly stated, "But I really can't handle the unknown."
It was then that his head turned towards her; the distance between them was much shorter than he could have thought. He didn't notice until his eyes directly moved towards the way that her lips curved in the small bow, the one that he had known so well from the number of times that he couldn't keep his eyes from her. But this was different; this held much more tension that he couldn't believe.
This time he could smell the liquor that lingered on her lips that mixed so well with the cherry of the chapstick that he knew she applied generously. He would watch the way that it slid over the lips as he sat at his desk and wondered what was on her mind.
"You're very good at getting what you want," Felicity breathed, watching as he shut his eyes for a moment. It was as if with every word she spoke, he was closer and closer to the edge of something great.
Her eyes traveled to the way that his legs sat just open—they were just waiting for someone to notice. Felicity swallowed at the idea of sitting between them, on her knees. Sitting there with her eyes laying on him; he took notice of her tense shoulders and her harbored through before he sat up just a bit. He scooted himself back on the sofa—Felicity blinked at the way that he invited her with just the flicker of his eyes.
No words needed to be spoken when the look could speak for itself, but the way that he speaks breaks the barrier of silence.
"How good am I at getting what I want?"
The heavy eyes that she held were only staring at his lips and the way that he spoke—the flicker of his tongue over the satin maroon of his lips. She couldn't contain herself, because she knew that his aura was a force to be reckoned with. She had seen it up close and personal; she knew that everything that he did was because he was in it one hundred percent.
He didn't half-ass anything—not a report, not a phone call, not a meeting, not a thought.
Everything Harry did was with the full intensive purpose of being the only thing on someone's mind, body, and soul.
Felicity trembled in the spot next to him, but her legs urged to move themselves. Her brain wasn't moving as fast as her decisions; and in an instant, her knees lowered to the spot in front of him. Her hands settling on the thick of his thigh as she allowed her eyes to hold his. For a moment, hesitation crossed his face, but she could have mistaken it for vulnerability.
The way that he breathed outwards was enough to make her gain the strength of a thousand horses—the talk that he talked wasn't as strong now, she felt a sensibility of pure radiance from her actions.
"I'd say you're the best at it, really." She let her hands settle on his thighs, but she took them away so she could drop the blazer down her arms. The tight white t-shirt settled against her frame as he watched the way that she pushed her brunette locks from her shoulders.
But his being felt incredibly taken by the way that she slowly moved—she wanted to savor every moment of this, he could tell that she was being critical, slow, and putting together each piece of herself in front of him.
That's what he thought at least, until he recognized that there was a tremble in her hand when she went to grab at the belt buckle, he barred. His hand flew to hers when she touched it; almost annoyed at himself by the look of terror that he was faced with as he knew that she had felt pushed away at that.
Instead, he pulled at her to stand up in front of him, between his legs. She did so with ease but a bit of confusion laid on her face as she stood with her hands by her side, Harry's eyes dancing along the figure—the divots in her thighs, the way the skirt just held to her so beautifully.
He let out a whimpering sound before he let his hand fall to the tightness of the front of his pants. Instantly, the pleasure trigger was pulled, and he knew what he had gotten himself into now had to be completed. It had to—he never did anything half-assed.
"Go put your heels on," He instructed her, watching as she stared at him willingly.
"A please would be nice." She tutted back, letting her lip fall into the curve of a smile.
Instantly, she knew that this wasn't a game anymore—this wasn't a fun, hushed little game of pleasure with nobody watching. She knew that the way that his eyes changed at the blink of an eye, the way that his jaw tightened at the statement: and the clear smirk on her lips faded.
"I'm not asking you," He sat up a bit, "I'm telling you."
Felicity had been used to being spoken as such; her memory fading into a moment, but her barriers kept up as she understood that her body was reacting only to the way that the words flowed from his mouth. She knew there was safety in his tone, she could see it by the way that he had stared at her with these stolen glances all night.
Instead, she followed his direction, moving back towards the door until she placed the black heels onto her feet again. They hurt just a bit from wearing them all day, she had to admit. But they made her stand taller, firmer against the fake wood flooring of her apartment. She wondered why the downstairs neighbors would think, as it became later at night.
"Come here," He told her, holding her wrist when she got close enough. He pulled her back to the place in front of him. She stood taller now, his nose practically at her bellybutton as she watched the way that he pulled her close.
Now, his hands lay on the outside of her hips, the sides of her thighs. She shuddered at the feeling, knowing that this was the first time she had been touched by him in such a manner. The musky scent of teakwood and spice drifted from the curls that settled against his forehead, she was sure of it. She could feel the heat of his breath just above where she needed him most as she stood close to him, right between his legs as he sat on the sofa.
"Do you know how many times I've thought of you like this?" He practically choked on his words, quiet, "So fucking beautiful."
She breathed out a shaky breath, holding onto every ounce of madness that she had collected over the past few moments.
"How many?" She asked him. Harry stood up, letting her take a step back as she felt the prominence of him now-- how he was a bit taller, even with her heels on. Every part of her ached—so unfamiliar to her, this feeling of need and want. It was a sensation of desperation that she hadn't known before; her inner monologue was flooded with dangerous prose as she felt his fingers cradled onto her jaw.
"More times than I'd ever be able to count." He told her, his voice deep and sharp as he pushed his hips forward. She walked backward a few steps, he followed in her lead like a waltz before he pushed her pelvis into the wall, holding it there with his own.
"You're going to be my good girl tonight, aren't you, Felicity?" His words were practically a whimper as he let his lips slide along her own; the tremble of her quivering lips made him shake in his own anticipation. "You love to listen, hm? That's why you're always taking my orders and assisting me? Getting paid to do what I say?"
It was always obvious by the pink of her cheeks and the timid ways of her soul that Harry could see right through her. From the moment she arrived on the job to the way that she completed everything task with ease; every job, every plan he needed executed, she followed in righteous order.
It made him proud, to say the least. She ran the company better than he did most days, but she didn't get half the recognition.
Until now, surely.
Her eyes nearly roll back into her head at the foul play of his words; the way that his eyes follow down the path of her lips, his thumb mapping the path down her chin before he grabbed it between his thumb and index finger.
The villainous smirk on his lips can't be seen by how close they are now.
"Does saying 'Yes, Mr. Styles' make you wet, Miss Carter?"
The question rolled off his tongue as he watched her minuscule behaviors; the way that she practically shivered against the wall made his eyes move to the way that her knees bent in just a bit.
His mouth turned up to the side as he realized that his was right yet again.
Felicity groaned in the back of her throat as she let it tip against the wall. He was practically on top of her by the way that he stood, his knee was pushing her knees apart before she was able to protest any of it. Not that she would've; she knew that it was about to turn into an evening that she couldn't have truly imagined if you had asked her just hours before.
"You're getting shy on me, again?" He remarked, but this time, it was paired with some loose kisses along her neck as he used his hand to cradle her jaw enough that she was pressing into it with ease. "What happened to that smart mouth, hm?"
Felicity ached as she breathed—her body pressured against the wall was her own doing, practically to keep herself from overwhelming herself. If she leaned into him too much, she wouldn't be able to breathe at all.
"Yes, Mr. Styles." She bit her lip at the words coming off her tongue.
She could feel that the instant gratification that came from him was filtered through the stare that he barred towards her; the way that his nose brushed against the lobe of her ear as he practically fell into her graces with three simple words.
Harry groaned at the feeling of her pressed against him then; her brain sparked a few times, trying to remember how it felt before this. How reality felt. This wasn't reality in the slightest; this was a dream.
"Tell me," He urges her, "What was his name?"
She lets her eyes wash over his face as she notices that his strength and need have put him into a trance of pleasure and further need.
"Who?" She questions.
"The guy," He lets his lip gently caress right between her chin and lip. "The guy you were supposed to see tonight."
Felicity remembered how the evening was supposed to go—her interest completely lost in that game, when this one seemed a bit more daring and fun. It felt that she was seen here; like she had been stared at for quite some time, ogled, maybe.
"Uh, S-Sam." She choked out as she felt the way that his hand pinched at the small of her waist, almost like he was trying to make sure she didn't leave.
He hummed softly before he tipped her head back, the simple press of his nose moving her head against the wall. "Fucking loser."
Her mouth instantly felt his—a righteous moment of complete satisfaction bundled beneath her. It was the first time that his lips had laid into hers, moving gently against one another as they fit perfectly in sync. It wasn't too rough—just enough to know that she was in the hands of someone who knew what she was asking just by the way that his body moved. He could read her body and react to the fact that her chest may have been pressed against the wall a bit too much, so he pulled back to give her room to breathe.
The way that they flew through her bedroom door was just as shocking to her as it was to him; it made a much larger noise than she anticipated as they practically flew over the threshold and into the creamy white sheets of her—thankfully—made bed.
He landed on top of her in the heat of the moment. Their lips stayed attached through it all, almost like they were making up for all the lost time over the years. His tongue gently caressed over her top lip, which elicited quite a whine of surprise from her.
Her hands flew to his necktie, trying to loosen it before Harry grabbed her wrist—hard enough that she barked out a whimper.
"No," He told her sharply, watching as she hesitated underneath him. Now her hair was feathered out against the bedspread, her light eyes were catching every glimpse of her. After a moment, he looked at her softly, knowing that she didn't understand the game that he was about to play.
"We are going to play by my rules tonight," He told her, watching as she pushed herself up towards the headboard. He followed her lead, letting her hands rest on the back of his head as she tried to kiss every inch down her neck. "And I have a few notes you need to take, got it?"
Felicity tried her best to stabilize her breath as she was given a moment away from their lips touching to catch it. She licked over her lips, feeling her heart pounding along her chest before she nodded against the bed and the linen comforter that laid underneath them.
Harry sat up, his hair a bit of a mess, the clothes on his body were practically ripped from the front where they had been neatly tucked. The growing need for her was obvious as he felt the tip of his cock struggling beneath the waistband of his belt. The friction made it quite hard to concentrate on what his plans had been, but he knew that he had to be firm with his requests.
"First," He instructed, "The safe word is poetry."
Felicity's eyes stared at him with quiet focus as she nodded a few times to try and understand that. She hadn't ever been with someone who needed to use a safe word in any sexual act, so she struggled to wrap her brain around what that could have possibly meant. But her actions continued to nod as she wrapped her arms around his biceps to try to bring him back to earth. The idea that he had to bring it up intrigued her.
"Second," He pulled at the necktie around his own before he loosened it enough to grab and throw off of his own neck. His hands moved to place it around her own, helping to move the hair from her neck so that it could rest comfortably around her own. "I like to use props. Are you okay with that?"
Felicity felt her heart beating steadily in her chest for a few seconds before she nodded her head. He watched the innocence completely take over her face as he smirked at the all-knowing tale of it.
"Third," He bit on his lip as he moved down to let their foreheads rest along each other, "I need to hear you—no nodding or shaking your head. Consent makes me feel good. And when I feel good," He kissed her once again, a quick one this time, before his voice quieted so that it was just between them. "You'll feel even better. Okay?"
Felicity breathed in a deep breath before she tried to use the voice that had been drifting away from her. She didn't feel in her body like an echo of a voice had started to take over instead of her words. But she let out a rasp of a word, "Okay."
Harry nodded a few times, knowing that with her eyes, he would be able to continue, but only if he was able to talk her through every part of it. He didn't know her experience level or what she was comfortable with, but he knew how to make pleasure the only thing that would be on her mind for weeks. Hopefully, it wouldn't be the last time he got the opportunity.
"This is—uh," She looked at the ceiling, feeling like an idiot for starting to speak before she shook her head, and watched Harry give her a look of confusion. "No, sorry. Nevermind."
"What is it?" He questioned, hoping that something he had said hadn't scared her away. She took in a breath as she thought about how the wording could anger him—maybe it would stop whatever was happening, which she didn't want to happen now that they were in the midst of it all.
"I—uh, I mean, like, are you okay with this?" She asked quietly before pushing up on her elbows. "I—do I have like, sign something?"
Harry raised in brows in a bit of a humorous way that only made her cheeks grow red with shame at her silly question—in all honesty, it wasn't silly, but Harry was giving her a hard time about it, anyway. He bit on his lip as he felt the smile that was threatening to overcome his entire face.
"Am I supposed to be worried that you're going to tell the Daily Mail that I have a huge cock?"
"Harry!" She covered her eyes, floating back onto the comforter, "Nevermind—maybe I'll tell them it's small, though, if you don't stop being mean. I'm just trying to protect you."
"Aw," He tutted, putting his thumb over her bottom lip, but his eyes had grown a bit darker—the way that they had been a bit earlier. It was almost an illicit reaction; the way that he spoke to her, was so filthy with each word spoken that made her melt into the bed. "Dare you to say that to my face when you're choking on it," He pressed his hips into hers then, knowing that she would react to it. Hers moved upwards into him, just as he had intended, "I'm not worried about an NDA in the slightest bit."
In a teasing manner, she scrunched her nose and playfully spat back, "What if I tried to steal all of your money?"
He pressed his hands next to her head on the bed, letting her eyes look directly into his as he spoke, hoping his voice didn't falter: "You can have it all. Take it."
Something about it should have made Felicity giggle—almost like they were joking around. But there was a way that his sincerity felt more like a proposition than a source to cut the tension of their achingly needing bodies against one another.
Her body seemed to enjoy the way that he stated the smooth words, as she let her hands fall into the brunette curls that settled on the back of his neck. It didn't take long for her to pull him closer, letting her lips graze over him in such a frustrating manner. She was completely built up, her could feel the way that her thighs trembled against him.
Pushing her legs open, Harry pushed the hem of her skirt up her hips so that he could find a home between them. In doing so, flashing the baby pink of her lace panties only let his blood flow faster and faster.
"I bet you've soaked those, hm?" He tuts, pressing his nose into her cheek ask he lets his hand knowingly move to the place he speaks of, knowing that he's right. Again. "Sam doesn't know what he's missing, does he?"
The teasing was becoming a bit too much for her—waiting for his fingers to move faster, she moved her hips a bit to try and get herself the pleasure she was trying to search so desperately for from him.
Harry notices the way that she tries to squirm, and he smirks at the reaction he's giving her; knowing that within every inch of her is building up a tension that will release. It will be like a dam that overflows—a satisfaction that will be so worthy of the cost of admission. He can't help but notice, can't help but watch her need.
He can't help but know that he's going to fuck her into an oblivion so dark, the stars will be lost in space. She doesn't know that yet.
Instead of being mean, he decides it might be better for him to give her what she needs—what she's been so kindly asking him for with her pretty hips and her pretty lips.
"On your knees," He tells her, watching as she moves underneath him. She wiggles around until she's on her stomach; the necktie gets him harder as he watches it dangle from her neck like the apple in Eden. Every part of him wants to take the bite—not yet, oh, not yet.
When she does this, her back arches upwards, and Harry's knees settle on the bed as he hovers above her and watches the way that she submits to him. Every word he says she listens—he can barely handle it anymore.
In an instant, his hands reached the bottom of her skirt, pushing it up to fully show the outline of her ass in the cheeky pink lace. It's always been known to him that she would wear something so pitifully scandalous under those black skirts, but he couldn't have imagined it would be like this.
Her pretty face has been folded into the creamy duvet, waiting for the touch of him to send her into an implosion.
All he wanted was to taste her—to make all of the thoughts he had prior feel like they were significant and they were able to be adhered to. He wanted to make her feel like she was the most special person on the planet; like she could feel every inch of him, and she would be thriving in that thought for the end of time.
This may be a one-time occurrence, and he wanted to marvel in it. He wanted her to enjoy what she didn't know could be.
Harry's hands pulled at the pink lace, wondering how lucky he was to be able to enjoy this sight—and what a sight. The wetness of her folds only made him salivate; made his hungry eye a darker shade of green before he dove his tongue directly into her, licking up the mess he had already made of her.
The soft whimpers turned into moans as she practically lurched forward—the initiation hardly bearable as she scrunched her eyes at the feeling of pleasure. The warmth and invite of his tongue pressed against her, lapping her up and into a pitiful puddle. When she felt the nudge of his finger, she gasped at the feeling of him; the duo of his tongue and finger sang together in harmony like a choir of angels.
"Oh, fuck," She quietly moaned out, holding herself on her elbows as she grabbed at her pillow for a bit of leverage. She felt him hum into her, his nose gently brushing against her as he pushed her ass up to get further towards her clit which hungered for his touch, as did his tongue.
The taste of her replenished him, making his heartbeat faster as he felt the stringent feeling of tightness along the dress pants that held him in. Without letting his tongue go without, he used his hand to swiftly throw the belt from the loops of his pants, unbuttoning them quickly and without another thought.
"Fuck, you taste like I thought you would. So fucking sweet." He stated, pushing her ass out of the way when he pulled back. He threw her down onto the bed so that she would be looking up at him. The girl was fully dressed still, just with her skirt pushed up—underwear a bit haphazardly thrown to the side. The rose-colored cheeks threw him as he used his hands to pull the skirt down her thighs.
"Get naked." He ordered, watching as Felicity's hands moved to throw the t-shirt from her body as he requested, leaving her in her panties and bra. Harry threw the white button-down of his from his chest; Felicity got a bit distracted by the way that the tattoos generously scattered over his body. She swallowed back her intimidation as she held herself up on her elbows.
In a swift motion, her panties and bra were thrown onto the ground, leaving her in just the necktie like Harry had ordered for her. She hadn't even quite noticed that he had been rid of his own clothes, her eyes wandering down but not wanting to stare as she noticed that the smirk on his face was ever present.
"Think it's still small?" He asked, with a chuckle as he pulled at her knees, moving her down towards him.
"Maybe smaller than I'm used to." She played back, biting her lip at the intrigue of how he'd react. His arms grabbed at her waist before he threw himself down onto the bed.
"Ride me, then. If you think you can take it as good as you say." His words spit out before Felicity could think too much. It had been a while she had been in this situation, with a guy in her place, at least. Her hand reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom, Harry nodding in appreciation for the gesture.
Her hunger and desire for this became a bit more active as she was now in the driver's seat, moving and manipulating her body to sit across his lap. If she would lie, she would say that it was smaller than average. But unfortunately, she was taught to always tell the truth.
It was much bigger—especially as he rubbed his hand down himself, a gasp of air baiting out of his lips before he looked up at her in a state that could only resemble pleasure.
Harry rolled the condom down his length, watching as she settled into his lap. Her legs settle on either side of him before he looks up at her. The blazing fuzziness of his mind from the liquor has started to cease and is replaced with a hunger of desire for the brunette instead.
"Pretty, pretty." He tells her, watching as she looks antsy enough to move, but he pulls her down to kiss her, anyways. It's a moment that he knows he's taking away from her, but he needs some form of interaction from her. A small detail of need that overcomes him.
His hands steady her hips above him, holding his cock up to her entrance before he watches her hips move down to encapsulate him all—her movements are slow as she throws her head back in an unsurmountable pleasure that she quite practically leans forward against him to catch herself from falling.
"Fuck," He grunts, shutting his eyes just at the way that the blood moves directly to his cock at the feeling of her wetness. She's completely drenched and open and ready which makes her so sensitive and barely capable of words at this point.
Her hands steady herself, holding onto his chest as he allows her to take the lead on what she needs. But he can tell from the look on her face that she's having quite a hard time collecting herself—almost like she's quite unsure of what to do with the power that he's given her to be on top. It's not him pitying her, but him wanting her to enjoy the experience.
So, maybe, in another life, this can happen again.
"Baby," He choked out, shaking his head at the way that he knew it was the wrong choice of words, "Felicity—let me," He grabbed the small of her waist as he sat up quickly. His arms pivoted them so that he could throw them back around on the bed. It wasn't to take anything away from her, but to give to her more than she was giving to herself.
"Let me do this, yeah?" He joked with her, letting his lips kiss along hers, biting and nipping and finding small ways of showing her that the softness of him was still there even in the darkened eyes and furious gasps.
His body readjusted, his hips pushing into her in a more fluid motion. This got her to gasp, a breathy one that he liked hearing—those were the ones that were out of pure pleasure and satisfaction; ones that he felt drunk on.
In a way, this felt a lot different than before. The overhead light of her bedroom was soft; there was a significant dimness to it. He wasn't sure if it was because the room was small, but it felt like there was a intimacy that he had been missing before. His eyes tilted upwards to the paintings and lines of movie quotes that lined along her bedroom wall. There were framed simply and held color and brightness to the space, which distracted him for only a moment before he was able to lay against her.
The necktie around her took his focus back.
"I'm going to play with you a bit, is that alright?" He asked her softly, biting at his lip before he found himself pressing into her hips. His hands grabbed at the necktie before letting them start to tighten it around her neck. " 'Member you words, hm?"
Felicity whimpered out at the coax; nodding her head, "Please—please."
Harry sat up at the request, happy that she was using her words in this sense. He readied himself; thinking of what he needed to think about to try to get himself to a different place. He didn't want to cum too quickly; his cock was barely holding on as it was. The friction of her sweet wetness was enough to make him fold again and again and again.
His fist moved to grip at the knot of the tie, pushing it upwards until it hit at her chin. She raised her head, almost to give way to the pressure that it held against her. She was only briefly capable of speaking a few words, but she was taken with pleasure at the way that her breathing was manipulated.
"Breath play," Harry practically reads her mind as his hip's diver deeper into her. The feeling of her legs at his ribs, practically around his body as he feels the back of her ankle into his back. "Your words, baby."
Felicity took a deep breath; Harry moved his hand so that she could take it in more. He wanted her to feel the wooziness, the daydream-like feeling of the high that it could bring her. He wanted this moment to be special, for her to remember that she was in the most requitting love affair. That she was taken care of, adored, seen.
At the end of the day, Harry wanted to make sure that her jaw was cradled, her lips were kissed, her eyes were stared into, and her breath was taken away.
His hips snapped further, her moan sounded like a small mew before he sat up a bit straighter, loosening his hand on the tie before he grabbed at both of her hips. His hand moved to maneuver over her clit, thumb drawing a star over top of it to which she squirmed in sensitivity. He smirked at the way that she held softly against him before he let a dribble of spit land directly on her, smearing the wetness to coat her.
"Jesus fucking Christ." He stated, the blown-out pupils of them both had them reeling—he noticed he had really neglected parts of her that he had wanted to remember, but he also knew that there was a significant need that they were both needing to fill. He knew that this was just inevitable fucking from weeks—months, really—of built-up tension that they both needed to get out of their system.
"I—I want more," She nodded, her voice quiet and barely above a mumble before their eyes made contact.
He felt that she was a bit, for lack of a better word, fucked. Her eyes were a bit droopy, she may have been trying to cover up how much she really drank, but her effervescent neediness was going to haunt him forever.
"I can give you more," He nodded, "I can give you so much fucking more." His hips snapped forward, again and again and again—her headboard hitting the wall every time he did so. Their breath heavy and their eyes connected as he did so.
"Such a pretty little fuck," He lifted her leg up from around his waist before he gave her knee a gentle kiss. "I'm so hard, fuck."
The fully natured nudity of their bodies was new for him—it was usually very quick, especially when they would come to his. But this was significantly more intimate; he wanted to spend this time with her. He liked that they decided to do it this way.
She could feel the tightening of the rubber band that was about to snap. It had been building with every swipe of his thumb, the way that his tongue had gently nudged at her clit; the way he had plunged forward with every deep thrust. She was impressed with the way that he moved her body to be able to hit at her spot every single time. He had studied her, watched what she did—how she reacted.
"I'm—fuck," He pulled himself forward, letting his head drop as he fell into her touch. This was new; her hands on his shoulders, the way that they moved into his hair and down his neck. "Poetry, okay?" He reminded her softly before he kissed her lips.
What happened after that could have been a blur—to Felicity, she wasn't entirely sure if she could remember it all. His hand gripped around the tie of her neck, pulling softly so she felt a dizzy sensation.
"Fuck—fuck, Harry, I'm cumming—fuck." Her teeth bit so sharply on her lip that she was afraid it might rupture the skin; the taste of blood would come soon afterwards, but her reality was set in the pleasure kingdom that Harry's hips created for her.
It was dizzying how he snapped his hips upwards, hitting her every single time. The pressure of his thumb over her clit sent her into an overdrive; letting her walls completely break, the dam overflowed, flooding. The orgasm over taking her sent him into a state of pure shock and adrenaline, snapping his hips a few more times before he felt the absolute relief.
Her eyes shut; Harry lurched forward as he fell into the grip of her hands. It was a feeling of falling that he genuinely believed were cloud-like.
For a moment, he wondered if they would ever slow their breathing down. He wondered if the sound of her heart beating against his was real-life or just a fantasy. It may have been an orgasmic-induced dream.
The puzzle piece form of the two of them let him settle nicely into her; his nose poked at the skin of her neck, which he may or may not have left a mark or two on.
In the solemness of the air, his breathing finally evened out.
___________
"Are we cleared for take-off, Mr. Styles?"
The noise jolts him a bit, he wouldn't lie.
Harry clears his throat as he opens his eyes which have been hidden by the sunglasses that have settled on his face. He readjusts in the seat before he looks around the small jet plane that had been chartered for their adventure.
It was early, approaching on seven in the morning. His sleep had been nonexistent until that small nap that he had gotten himself before being woken up by the pilot.
"Uh," He swallows, trying to make it seem that he was more awake than he was.
"I believe that we're all here." Laura states to the pilot before she gives him a tight smile. She returns to looking at her cellphone, lowering her hands into her lap as she continues to scroll through what's possibly an email.
Harry looks around the small jet, watching, searching... wondering.
He blinks a few times to try to imagine if there's a reality where what had occurred last night was working against him—he had hoped that she hadn't been scared off, that she hadn't run away at the idea of what this weekend could possibly hold.
Not that it was going to happen all the time, certainly not. But he wondered if there could be a next time—he wondered if she would have liked that. It turns out, with the no show to the work trip that she had been informed on that—
"I'm sorry."
The sweet tone of the voice carries through the plane before he turns his body in the single chair to look at where it had been coming from. Coming up the steps, being greeted by the stewardess, a smiling face that had her sunglasses pushed into her hair—a pair of black yoga pants and a t-shirt with a cardigan sweater overtop.
He watches as she takes her bag, feeling uncomfortable by the stewardess taking it from her before she gives her a tight smile and settles into walking towards the back. The plane isn't large, but it feels incredible big when he is waiting for her to approach him.
Their eyes meet and she gives him a tight smile before greeting the others on the plane. The seat directly in front of Harry isn't taken. Go figure. Her hands are full—holding her purse, a bag that most likely has something to eat for a breakfast, a coffee, and—
"Your dry-cleaning," Felicity handed the back to him before she took her seat that sat directly across from him in the small private jet that had seemingly felt much smaller as she took in how close he was to her now, "Mr. Styles."
The flicker of her eyes to his—the way that her hair had been blown dry, bouncing with curls, the freshness of her toned-down makeup to allow the texture of her skin to show with the subtlety of the glow.
Even in the early morning hours, even though he had just left her a few hours prior, even though they had both had less than a few good hours of sleep—she still looked like she was greeting him at heaven's pearly gates.
When the bag was unzipped to check that everything had been added, his eyes fell along the purple necktie that he had unnervingly left at the edge of her bed the night prior; he must had run out of the door of her apartment without it. His eyes glanced at the way that the small item drifted over the white button-down.
It was familiar, of course, because it had been the one that he was wearing yesterday when he had entered her apartment but left without it in his hands or around his neck. He cleared his throat at the sight, knowing that it was a nod to him and only him. When he sat them down across his lap, his eyes landed on her again—the casualty of her smirk was harrowing now.
"Mr. Styles, are we waiting on anyone else?" The pilot had come back towards the rows now, to ensure that everything would have been cleared for the take-off. Harry looked back at him, and shook his head without another doubt, but a solidly aching feeling in his chest as he barred the words back at him.
"No, I—I'm not waiting for anyone else, at least." He looked up at the girl in front of him, "I'm good."
The pilot got the plane ready for departure; Felicity stared at the window as she tried to take in the experience, knowing that the exhaustion that was starting to overcome her would be able to be given a final rest when she leaned against the window.
But, for the time being, she liked being able to rest in the light of Harry's stare as he couldn't take his eyes from her.
The plane, the job, the clothes, the dinner—none of it mattered when the view in front of him was something that money would never be able to buy.
____________________
hiiiii!!
happy tortured poets department day, here's a one-shot <3
just a little fun one hehe, almost 20k words is so much for me, so thank you for reading this!
love u as always
- emily
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Text
A Surprise Visitor
Word count: 2.1k
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Summary: After two years of watching from afar, Y/n surprises her boyfriend, Lando Norris, at the Monza Grand Prix, creating a buzz in the paddock and revealing their private relationship.
Requests are open
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The hum of the jet engines thrummed through the cabin, but I was too excited to care. This was finally happening. After two years of watching Lando's races from my cramped little apartment, I was on my way to my first Grand Prix. It had taken a miracle—or more precisely, a break in my grueling medical school schedule—to make it happen, and now I was on a plane bound for Monza. Lando had no idea I was coming.
For two years, we had been each other's biggest supporters, but always from afar. With my studies and his relentless racing schedule, we made it work through late-night FaceTime calls, stolen weekends, and text messages sent across different time zones. Lando understood how much becoming a doctor meant to me, and I understood how much racing meant to him. It wasn't always easy, but it was worth it. And now, finally, I was going to surprise him at one of the biggest races of the season.
The plan was simple: get to Monza, navigate through the labyrinth of the paddock area, and find Lando. But of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. After all, Lando had kept our relationship very private—mostly because of my request. I had wanted to avoid any extra scrutiny or attention that could interfere with my studies. So, not many people knew who I was. That anonymity had always been a blessing, but today, it might turn into a curse.
As I approached the entrance to the paddock, the reality of the situation hit me. The security was tight, and without a pass, there was no easy way in. I tried to remain calm and confident as I approached the guard at the gate, a stern-looking man. I put on my most winning smile.
"Hi, I’m here for Lando Norris. I'm his girlfriend," I said, hoping my nerves didn’t show in my voice.
The guard didn’t even flinch. He glanced at me. “Do you have a pass, ma’am?”
“Uh, no, I don’t. I’m surprising him. He doesn’t know I’m here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t have a pass, I can’t let you in. Anyone could say they're someone’s girlfriend.”
I felt my face flush. Of course, he was right. I had counted on my story being enough, but without any proof, I was just another face in the crowd. My mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that would convince him. I pulled out my phone, scrolling frantically through my photos to find one of Lando and me that wasn’t overly intimate but still proved I knew him. Finally, I found one from his last birthday—a picture of us at a quiet dinner, his arm wrapped around my shoulder, both of us smiling like idiots.
“Look, this is us,” I said, holding the phone up to the guard.
He squinted at it, but it still didn’t seem to sway him. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but without clearance, I can’t let you in.”
I bit my lip, starting to panic. Would I really come all this way just to be turned away at the gate? Just then, I heard a familiar voice from behind the guard.
“Hey, is there a problem here?”
It was Charlotte, one of Lando’s closest friends who often accompanied him to races. Relief washed over me. She knew who I was, thank goodness. The guard turned to her, explaining the situation, and Charlotte’s eyes lit up when she saw me.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a quick hug. “She’s with Lando. She’s legit,” she assured the guard, who seemed to visibly relax.
“Alright, you’re good to go,” he said, opening the gate for me. I breathed out a sigh of relief, thanking Charlotte profusely.
“Lando’s going to flip when he sees you,”
Charlotte led me through the bustling paddock, weaving between crew members, engineers, and the odd driver. My heart pounded with every step. I couldn’t believe I was finally here, in the thick of it, about to see Lando. I’d spent so many weekends watching him on TV, wishing I could be there to support him in person. Now, I was just moments away from making that a reality.
As we rounded a corner, I saw the familiar McLaren colors and a group of people crowded around, busy with last-minute preparations. And there he was, standing near his car, deep in conversation with his race engineer. I paused, taking him in. Lando looked focused, his brow furrowed as he listened intently. He was in his element, and seeing him like this—so determined, so alive—made my heart swell with pride.
Charlotte gave me a nudge and a wink. “Go on.”
Taking a deep breath, I walked toward him, trying to keep my emotions in check. With each step, my excitement grew, and I couldn't help but smile. When I was just a few feet away, Lando turned around, still half-listening to his engineer. His eyes skimmed over me at first, not really registering who I was, but then they widened. His mouth fell open in shock.
“Y/N?” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “What… what are you doing here?”
The smile on my face grew wider. “Surprise!”
For a moment, he just stood there, frozen, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Then, in a heartbeat, his face broke into the biggest grin I’d ever seen. He closed the distance between us in two strides, wrapping me in a tight hug and lifting me off the ground. I laughed, burying my face in his shoulder, his familiar scent wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice muffled against my hair. He set me down gently but kept his arms around me as if afraid I might disappear if he let go. “You’re really here?”
“Yeah, I am,” I said, my own eyes brimming with happy tears. “I finally managed to get a break from school. I wanted to surprise you.”
“You did more than surprise me,” he said, pulling back to look at me. His eyes were bright with joy, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
I felt a warmth spread through my chest, seeing just how much my presence meant to him. “I’m so proud of you, Lando. I’ve been watching every race from my apartment, but I’m finally here to cheer you on in person.”
His face softened, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, standing in the middle of the chaotic paddock, wrapped up in our little world. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “I wish you could be here all the time.”
“I wish I could too,” I replied. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and full of relief. “I have to admit, this is the best surprise ever. But how did you even get in? Did anyone recognize you?”
“Not exactly,” I laughed. “It was a bit of a challenge. Charlotte saved the day.”
He glanced over my shoulder and waved a grateful hand at Charlotte, who gave him a thumbs-up and a knowing smile. “Remind me to thank her later,” he said with a grin before turning his attention back to me. “But seriously, Y/N, you being here… it just makes everything better.”
I felt my heart flutter at his words. “Well, I’m glad I could make your day a little brighter. Now, you better go out there and win, okay? I didn’t come all this way for nothing.”
Lando’s grin widened, and he nodded with determination. “With you here, I feel like I can do anything.”
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, and I felt a rush of warmth spread from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. “Stay close, alright? After the race, we’re celebrating. Just you and me.”
“Deal,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Now go be amazing.”
Lando jogged back to his team, but not before throwing a final, beaming smile my way. My heart swelled seeing how happy he was. I lingered by the McLaren garage, watching him fall back into his pre-race routine. As I waited, Charlotte stayed with me, giving me a quick rundown of the paddock scene. The energy was buzzing, filled with engineers shouting, journalists hunting for stories, and drivers moving from garage to garage.
As Lando chatted with his team, I noticed a few heads turning in my direction, whispers circulating among the crew. It wasn’t long before Daniel Ricciardo, Lando’s former teammate, appeared with his trademark grin, clearly having caught wind of the new face in the paddock.
“Oi, Norris!” Daniel called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “You’ve been holding out on us, mate! Who’s this lovely lady?”
Lando looked up, a sheepish yet proud grin spreading across his face. He glanced at me, then back at Daniel. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s finally here to see me race.”
I felt my cheeks flush as all eyes turned toward me. Daniel's grin widened, his playful nature kicking in immediately. “Girlfriend, huh? And you kept her hidden all this time? Smart move, mate.”
He walked over, extending a hand to me. “Daniel, nice to meet you. I’ve gotta say, we all wondered if Lando had someone special cheering him on from the shadows. Now I see why he’s been driving so fast. Gotta impress the missus, eh?”
I laughed, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Daniel. And yeah, I’ve been watching all the races from home. I’m finally getting a front-row seat.”
Before I knew it, more drivers began to gather around, curious to meet Lando’s mystery girl. George Russell approached with a friendly smile. “So, you’re the one who’s been keeping Norris in line? Good job,” he said, giving Lando a teasing nudge. “Didn’t know you had it in you, mate.”
Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Oh, shut up. Just because you guys didn’t know doesn’t mean I was keeping secrets.”
Charles Leclerc joined the group, his charming smile lighting up his face. “Y/N, right? I’m Charles. It’s nice to meet you. I have to say, Lando’s been very quiet about you, but now I see why. He was trying to keep you away from us.”
“Not a bad idea,” Lando chimed in, trying to sound casual, but I could sense a slight edge to his tone. “You lot can be a bit much sometimes.”
Charles chuckled, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease Lando. “Come on, we’re not that bad! Besides, now that she’s here, we can all get to know her better.”
As the group chatted, I could feel Lando's arm subtly wrap around my waist, a gentle but possessive gesture. I couldn’t help but smile to myself; he was clearly proud to show me off but also keen to make sure everyone knew I was his.
Max Verstappen wandered over next, always one to enjoy a bit of friendly banter. “Lando, man, you’ve been hiding her from us because you knew we’d try to steal her away, huh?” he said with a playful smirk.
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Lando shot back, his tone light but his grip on my waist tightening ever so slightly.
As we continued to chat, I noticed Carlos Sainz giving me a slightly lingering look. He flashed me a charming smile. “You know, if you ever get tired of this guy, you could always come cheer for Ferrari,” he joked, winking.
I laughed, enjoying the light-hearted teasing, but I felt Lando tense beside me. He tried to play it off with a chuckle, but I could tell the idea of me getting attention from his friends—even if it was in jest—was stirring a little jealousy.
“Alright, alright,” Lando cut in, his voice a mix of amusement and a hint of possessiveness. “I see what you’re all trying to do, and it’s not going to work. Y/N is here with me, and that’s how it’s staying.”
Daniel, always quick to pick up on vibes, grinned broadly. “Look at him getting all protective! I think we’ve found Lando’s kryptonite, boys.”
Lando rolled his eyes, but his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. At least I have someone to protect,” he shot back, which earned a chorus of “ooohs” from the group.
I squeezed his hand reassuringly, leaning in close to whisper, “You know they’re just messing with you, right?”
He nodded, his expression softening as he looked at me. “Yeah, I know. But I still don’t like the idea of anyone hitting on you—even as a joke.”
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his protectiveness. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
Text
distant calls
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words: 700
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, male masturbation, mentions of p in v sex, like one use of kid, protective!rafe, one mention of violence, kinda creeper!rafe i guess??, dubcon possibly?? not really but just in case!
“hey princess.” rafe smiles when he hears immediately how excited you are.
“hi rafey!” you squeal into the phone, wishing you weren't separated by the distance, forced to talk on the phone instead of in person.
“how was your day pretty girl? what did you do?” rafe asks.
your cheeks blush red at the nickname, never getting used to it no matter how many times he uses it on you. 
“well, it was a port day!” you start to describe your cruise. you really did try to have fun with your parents, but part of you longed to have rafe around, to be back in the obx where he could look after you.
you tell rafe all about the city you stopped in, where you went to shop and a cave exploring excursion that you ended up sitting out to wait on the beach until your parents got back.
you kick your feet up and down, back and forth as you recount everything to rafe. he stays mostly quiet, only letting out a few grunts and light sighs that you suppose is his affirmation that he's listening.
you feel so lucky to have captured rafes interest. you're not dating, haven't done anything at all yet beyond rafe holding your hand when you cross the street, but you're enamored with him. rafe is just as infatuated with you, but he would be damned if he told you, preferring to just keep you smiling and beat up any guys who look at you even a second too long at parties.
“and then we got back on the ship.” you twirl a finger absentmindedly over the blanket as you lay on your stomach on the bed. 
“did you eat baby?” rafe asks, his voice sounding strained.
“yes, of course.” you nod quickly despite rafe not being able to see you. “we went to the buffet and i got a chicken salad and then i even got dessert!” your exclaim, proud of yourself. “i got vanilla ice cream with sprinkles.”
“that's good, kid.” rafe let's out another sigh that has you pressing your ear into the phone, listening intensely to hear a weird somewhat wet sound that you can't place.
“keep-” rafe gasps out. “keep talking baby. tell me about-” he has to pause again as he grunts. “tell me about tomorrow.”
you instantly lose your suspicion as you let out another squeal. “rafey, you will never believe it!” you explain how you're going snorkeling in an area where people commonly see dolphins and you're really hoping you see them on the boat ride out to the reef.
you giggle with excitement, not realizing what your sounds are doing to rafe.
many hours away, back in the outer banks, rafe is laying on his bed, back propped up against the pillows, one hand holding his phone close to his ear while his other furiously strokes his cock.
it wasn't his intention when you first got on the phone, but hearing your sweet little voice had him pulling his cock out of his shorts.
“oh wow.” rafe says, tacking on a moan at the end that he hopes is disguised by his words.
rafe knows he's going to break the second you get back from your cruise. he's going to pick you up himself and bring you to the closest bed, even if it's a shitty motel. he's not even confident he'll make it that far without needing to take you. maybe the side of the highway will do.
you continue talking away about the itinerary, not a clue in the world that rafe is so close to ending the game you've been playing, the teasing about to come to a wicked end.
“are you in your pajamas?” rafe asks, interrupting you. but he doesn't care. he needs to know more.
“yup.” you say, popping your p’s. “been in my room for like half an hour now. it's so warm even with the ac blasting i'm wearing just a t-shirt.”
it's all rafe needs, the image of you splayed out on the bed with just a t-shirt on, pushed up to reveal your bare cunt and perfect tits. rafe doesn't hold back his sounds as much as he knows he should, grunting as he cums with a final stroke, releasing all over his abs.
“you okay rafey?” you question.
“im perfect, dollface.” rafe says, sighing as he lets go off his softening cock. 
“wanna switch to facetime?” you pout. “i miss looking at you.”
rafe switches without second thought, loving to see the way your eyes widen when you realize he's in bed shirtless, eyes squinting at the sticky white substance dotting his lower half.
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scara-writes · 6 months
Text
sweetheart
Yandere Emperor X Consort! (F)Reader X Yandere Crown Prince(platonic)
милашка-sweetheart according to google correct me if im wrong!
CW: kidnapped, reader is look down upon by the nobles, infantilize, forced pregnancy, dehumanizing, mentions of attempt suicide, false rumor, power imbalance, worshipping, delusional(?)
NOTE: Crown Prince is at the age of 16(he is your first/oldest son). Reader is around 36-38. Emperor is two year younger than the reader. Also I don't speak russian everything is google (the empire is not based on irl russian empire but a fantasy world like the manhwas/shoujou isekai we read) and english is not my first language you can clearly see when you read the story. This is purely a fiction and I do not mean to offend anyone.
I DO NOT CONDONE ANY ACTION IN THIS FICTION.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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Running is not ideal for a 5 month pregnant woman like you.
When you tried to seek help from your parents for the first time, they never helped you because who would believe an illegitimate daughter who was frowned upon by nobles.
You are an illegitimate child of the duke and a humble maid who passed away shortly after giving birth, but despite this, you are a physically and mentally healthy child. You even managed to withstand the attempts of your stepmother and your half-sister to discredit you in the family, and didn't even find a help to your neglectful father who busies himself of taking home many women from brothel.
That was in the past but you were desperate when you ask for their assistance. However, you never heard from them ever since you bore your first child, Ize.
Ize your son. Your lovely crown prince son grew up to be like your husband with his teachings. You tried to persuade him to never listen to his father but he only shook his head and told you that all his teaching that he was learning from his old man was to protect you.
Afraid that it will stress you even more in this suffocating high walls to protect you during your pregnancy and well being, Ize-the crown prince would be willing to act like a little kid for you. He would occasionally brew you a cup of tea that you enjoy or give you a handmade gift, such as an embroidered handkerchief, to show you that he was thinking of you and that said skill you taught him when he was a child. Knowing the child, this kind of acts is for him appease the worries you have;he is different behind closed doors of your confined palace where your eyes and ears can't reach; your crown prince son is a different person who will be willing to shed the blood of others just for you.
And it seems that the morals that you taught him must have been thrown out of the window thanks to your husband.
So here you are after escaping from the hundreds gazes of a watchful loyal hounds around your palace you escape, it wasn't easy since you are carrying the emperor's second child. You heard on a passing by servants that the two tyrants had a meeting with the other nobles and the neighboring kingdom, this is a rare occurrence that the two left you alone. It took you an hour to escape the royal grounds before exploring around the town till you found a port that would take you to another country. This is your only chance to escape that suffocating palace that those two tyrants confined you in. Your Husband, Yuri can't leave you alone not when he found out that you are with his child-a second child at that. Even before you were pregnant with his first child, his wary gaze and infantilization to you had multiplied tenfold.
Your husband spread the rumors about you being mentally ill. But why would he do such a thing? You reflected to yourself and it devastate you to realize it was his scheme to prevent you from seeking help from his subjects to escape. Only the royal physician and your husband were aware of this bogus illness. It felt betrayal that he has to make that action so he can confide you more.
Your husband's scheme worked. Even your own son believed the spewing lies coming from his father, and the nobles never gossip about you as if it was a taboo ever since you were married to the emperor. Speaking ill about the emperor's consort was just as good as the reaper visiting you by the second you speak those words. Only praises coming from their filthy mouths were allowed.
No one bats an eye on you, even the servants who serves under you. They will bathe you, serve you food, refreshments, but none of them will engage or start a conversation with you. When someone last made an effort to assist your escape, a kind servant at that. The lowest mining pit, which is worse than death, The emperor bestowed upon them to be sent the servant's family, including the said servant. High ranked criminals labour in a pit there for 18 hours with a maximum 4 hour break the rest of the hour are for necessities like sleeping, with much less food and income. In short, a death torture for them.
You implore your husband to kill them rather than send them there, the only thing he said to you that it wasn't your fault they were sent there. Something along the lines of—"you were acting like this because of your condition. That servant was attempting to kill you." He told you that in front of other servants. Everyone compliments his action for 'protecting' you. His cunning red eyes looks at you that none of the servants and nobles noticed but you did. It was a warning for you to behave or he will do worse.
Yuri has never harmed you, physically. but he will harm others who want to separate you from him.
The only time you regret your decision is when you met Yuri—he was about to meet his demise by the hands of his brothers if it weren't for you stumbling to see him in the middle of the night on an alleyway of the tsvetok village struggling to breathe from the deep pools of his own blood. So you drag his half dead body into your abandoned chamber—which is rarely visited by servants—that your father bestowed for you when you were born. Aiding his deep wounds, helping him heal up, befriending him, falling in love—
You purse your lips and gave a small wince feeling your belly is starting to ache, the kick from your unborn child thumps under your long dress.
My child please, Now is not the time! you gently brush your belly soothingly before leaning on the lamp post that dimly lit the night. You sigh in relief when you felt the baby inside of you cease on kicking. Although you were a little further from the palace when you looked behind you, you still needed to move quickly. Right now, you assume that Yuri or a servant that was suppose to serve you had definitely find out that you were gone this afternoon and notify the knights and some of high ranking mage to find you immediately, but the sun had already been sunk by the evening. They must have been having a hard time finding you. A little more 18 minute walk and you'll be able to ride on the ship that will help you travel to another empire, or any nation.
"ort---s--ing!" you turn to your left to look one of the vendors of the nights were gossiping. A woman with her husband was panting, assuming he was running to deliver a news to his family. His cloth headband on his raggedy hair is soaking. He took a deep breath before repeating what he said earlier. A dread of fear rise from your throat as he uttered his next words,
"The Emperor's Consort is missing! The Emperor's knights are blocking all way out!"
You heart felt like dropping when you saw a nearby knight were looking one by one at the women nearby, specifically women who are similarly pregnant like you. Speaking of the devil, they are already here!
Knights in horses, mages running around the busy street. Some of them stopping women who has similar hair color as you to assess if they found the right person.
"Oh my! I'm hoping the consort is doing okay! She must have acted such way due to her failing mental state. The emperor must have been worried sick, I can't imagine the devastion look of the emperor especially their son!" said the woman to her husband.
You hid your hair with your cape and quickly blend in with the busy road of the night town. Muttering, "excuse me!", "Apologize!" As you force your way around the crowd. One arm around your belly to protect child, while your hand went to sling your bag with clothes and some gold coins. as you bump so many people on the crowd. You look edges of the town, at the gate, to see all the possible exits were starting to get block by the imperials knights and mages. You bit your lips frustration as you felt the hope of getting your freedom back is slipping away from your grasp.
Your plan of getting to the port has been discarded after seeing a two mage and three knights were on their way there. Even if you did go in town's gate the gatekeepers will inspect people who are exiting and entering.
But...
You look at the old man who was riding a donkey with his carriage towards to exit of the gate, fruits were laying under the cloth. An Idea quickly pop your head but you are desperate to leave this suffocating country so you have no choice but to execute it.
Your silent foot falls went behind on a slow moving carriage before climbing up silently and quickly, in your haste and desperation movement, you didn't feel as though you had torn your cape at the wooden edge of the carriage before taking the fabric that was covering the fruits that keeps them from dust and dirt. You carried a handful of fruits before slowly sitting down beside it then covering yourself with the said fabric and the remaining fruit fast enough before the knights from the gate of this region would notice you. You wince when one of the fruit hit your belly but not enough to endanger the baby.
"Have you seen this lady?" A man in his mid 60s look at the paper, he squint his eyes as he held his old lightly crack glasses to take a better look. Your (e/c) eyes look at the gapping hole of the carriage and gulp fearfully when you saw your portrait on the paper holding by the imperial knight.
"O-oh...sa-aw her!" you held your breath when the old man spoke. The two knights look at each other before listening to the next word of what the old man would say.
He lick his dry lips before continuing, his voice's struggling due to his old age, "If I-Im..not mistake-en the lady in the p-picture look like the lady I saw by the lampost o..on the rozahk street!"
You exhaled in relief since you mistakenly believed that the elderly man had just seen you, but he actually noticed you five minutes' walk from the gate to roza street. However, this would also let them know that you are actually close by.
The imperial knights gave the elderly merchant a nod as they hastily walked around the city, alerting a nearby mage to use a spell to track you. They quickly tell their subordinates for a new command.
You felt the carriage starts to move. Hugging yourself for reassurance especially at your upcoming baby that everything will be okay.
You weren't escaping just for yourself but for your second child that will be born. You don't want your kid to become like their older brother and learn from their father. Ruthless, and doesn't have a compassion to another human. You want your kid to have a brighter future, away from the blood shed. You hope that if you got caught or killed by your husband in the future. You will tell your second child to run away and never look back, when you are gone.
You ignored how uncomfortable it was to sleep in the fruits. You close your eyes and see the farm neighborhood that the carriage passed as well as the slowly dissipating kingdom that was beginning to appear as a dot on the horizon.
The abrupt shake of your ride woken you up. You hear noises outside the carriage and glance through the hole to see that light was creeping through, signaling that it was dawn but sun has yet to come in the horizon. What is happening?. You peek above the cloth seeing that you don't have enough visual on what's happening. A dusty road lay in front of you, and woods surrounded you. You turn around to look behind you and realize that the palace is no longer in sight. A sense of relief that you were indeed far from that prison.
A bunch of voices caught your ears, you turned to look to your right.
Your whole body went pale.
Your son-the crown prince was chatting with each of the roadside merchants who had just exited from their vehicle not far from where you were. The imperial warriors and mages that were conversing with the other sellers the same task as your son was doing just behind him.
You curse yourself, how did they come here to fast?
You need to leave before they notice that you are inside this carriage. Just as you swiftly escape your imprisonment. You carefully stood up, removing the fabric that was covering you and the fruits, ignoring the woozy and aches from your muscle pain for not moving too much from the entire night.
A creak was heard in your vehicle when you tried to climb down. Snapping your eyes back at them, to witness if they heard the mistake you made. To your relief, The prince and the other guards were still busy interrogating.
They didn't hear me..
You reach down and starts to stalk away from them, your hands were trembling. Stepping back to reach the wood just a 5 meters behind you. It didn't matter if you get lost in the woods, as long as they don't catch you.
No, you would rather live in a woods, in a forest where no one can reach you.
As you step forward carefully in to the woods, you didn't notice from your cautious and anxious state that your boots crack a twig, just like the cliché you previously read. The nearest knight snaps his head at the sound. He was perplexed before realizing that the woman from the paper in his hand resembles you.
"Her majes-"
You dash toward the woods. The imperial knights sought to catch up to you, as you heard him behind. You grab a nearby rock and shot it directly to his skull, and it hits him.
You ignored the yelp as he yells your honorific causing the nearby knights hear him and went for his aid, before they realize what he was yelling and starts to chase after you.
You felt the dress that was getting stuck on some of bushes and dried branches, resulting to have your dress to be ripped.
Heartbeat were thumping agressively, adrenaline were rushing around your body. One of your hands went up to your belly protecting it from getting injured despite your legs were now full of scratches and bruises from the twigs, and sharp edges of these woods. You feel your legs ache.
"Mother!" You faintly hear a galloping horses along with your son's voice behind you.
Your mistake was to look behind you while running away. You saw how your son and his guards were starting to gain just to bring you back to that hellhole. Your son Ize was reaching up his hand to take you back, his red orbs were full of concern and anxiousness.
"Mother! It's me,Ize! Please, slow down you will hurt yourself!"he yelled."Mother! Think about my sibling! Your child! Listen to me! Don't let this illness take over you!"
Poor child, he thought all of this nonsense that you are doing was because of your bogus illness.
You were about to stop when you saw a nearby cliff but a trunk made you tripped.
You screamed feeling a misstep when you realized you are falling, instinctively cradling your pregnant belly, protecting it as you roll down from the ground. A piercing scream was heard—from your son. Your head colliding to the three and it felt like your head would split open.
Your eyes were blurry from the impact. Touching your belly if there was injury. Atleast trying to feel your lower part if there was bleeding through your thighs other than your legs.
You look up at the steep cliff to see your son was sliding down, crying out your title as his mother. You saw his red orbs were full of tears as it glides down to his cheeks. The last thing you saw before your vision was consumed by the darkness was his hands reaching up to your head.
You were awoken by the sound of the chirping birds coming from the balcony.
You coughed, feeling the dryness from your throat. You eyes were blurry for a few minutes before clearing to see that you were back to the same imprisonment.
But....
It wasn't the same room you shared with your husband. Are you...even in the palace?
You took your time to assess your surroundings only to realize that the room has similarities of the royalties room that are exiled but it looked renovated, one of your husband's brothers used to live here before taking his own life. You felt grim about the thought of it.
After his brother's passing you heard from one of the maids that he turned it into a vacation palace for royalties.
It was different from the last time you saw it. It was much more cleaner and better. It looked good after it was renovated.
Wait, the baby.
THE BABY!
You eyes quickly gaze down to your belly. Hands quickly feeling around them, you exhale in relief when you felt a small kick from your stomach. You felt your tears at the edge of your eyes. It was a miracle that the heavens hadn't take your unborn child away.
I'm sorry baby...
They would have died from the stupidity you'd done!
You laid down to your right side of the bed and cradle in your stomach muttering a soft apologies and starts fluttering your eyes to go back to sleep.
But somethings not right. You felt like a pair of eyes watching you, looking at you.
Observing you.
You opened your eyes and look up only to see your pair of red eyes staring down at you.
Your husband, the emperor sitting on a wingback couch, his face resting at his hand while the elbow is resting at the arm of the couch beside him is a kettle with a cup that rest on top of the bedside table.
You feel your body tense up, you tried to get up and turn to look at your husband.
"Y-your majesty." You called but it sounded like a whisper. You don't know what he will do to you. Sure, he never hurt you physically but this is the first time you'd gotten far away from the place he imprison you in.
You gulped, will he hurt you this time?
"I-I'm... I.." you cannot come up a word,an excuse, what if he gets sick of you? What would happen to your child?
You felt your breath shorten. Tears are starting to swell up in your cheeks.
A rough hand brush on your cheeks before cupping it. You found your partner is already beside you on the bed.
He didn't speak he just let you weep as he brush away your tears. You stammer your words wanting to apologize. The emperor handed you a cup of water and you took it quenching the thirst from your larynx.
Once you drank it all, you hiccup trying to stop your tears from coming out. You felt his hands caressing your belly. "H-husband.."you gulped.
"hush,милашка."he commanded and you held your tongue and closed your eyes when he leans on your cheeks before engulfing you with his arms around you. You felt suffocating around him like a snake coiling around your body.
You feel tensed as he starts peppering kisses on your shoulders and neck before resting his lips to your earlobes, you shudder when he kissed it.
His right hand from your waist slid up under your loose sleeve before sliding it down, your emperor leaned down giving your shoulder a hickey. You whimpered trying to push him away but he hadn't budge an inch. Once he was satisfied he let your skin go with a pop before looking at the red mark he left.
The same hand went to brush your hair, tuck it behind your ear before leaning his forehead against yours. His red eyes held adoration, affection, but most of all obsession.
"милашка." He muttered closing his eyes sighing, he brush his lips against yours before deepening it.
He kept calling you, held you in his arms gently. The same arms that has full of blood that slay so many heads to get to the top of this food chain.
He laid you down before kissing every finger tips of yours and then clasping it with his rough hands as he called for you.
"милашка...."
".... my милашка..."
He pressed one kiss on your collarbone. "None of this is your fault..." He told you.
"... This illness will be the death of you."
Your heart broke for him. He really delude himself that everything you did to get away from him was because of your 'illness'.
"... Everything will be fine, darling. I will take care of you." He dampened his lips one last time onto your lips before leaving you in your new confinement.
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