#last time the old man was harassing me wanting me to call him handsome and now this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elliaze · 6 months ago

Text

Weightless

Parring: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Warnings: Joel and reader are neighbors, age gap (Joel is 10 years older), no!outbreak, reader has 23 years old, Sarah is here but only mention, neighbors-to-friends-to-idiots-in-love-trope?, protective!Joel, they are head over hills to each other, but Joel think he's to old for her, mostly fluff but with a little heart-break,

Summary: Joel goes to the bar when Y/N is working and then something happens.

Word Count: +2700

Divider by @cafekitsune

MASTERLIST

Y/N was twenty-three when she fell in love.

Or had it lasted much longer?

It was hard to tell, because Joel Miller had been in her life almost from the beginning. First, as an annoying adult neighbour. She loved to play pranks on him when she was a child. He had always threatened to tell her parents, but she knew that had never happened. Later, as she grew up, that same annoying neighbour suddenly became an exceptionally handsome neighbour. It had been a time when she had paid no attention to boys her own age, thinking they were complete idiots. It was also a time when she had gone from being an ordinary girl next door to being Sarah’s babysitter, especially when Joel and his brother couldn’t take care of the little girl. Y/N remembered how she would blush every time she passed Miller, especially when he started talking to her about something other than how his beloved daughter was doing. She thought that her crush on her older neighbour was just a result of her teenage years. She thought that would pass.

A few years later, it didn't. On top of that, everything got more complicated because she and Joel started to be friends. He didn't treat her like a child, although he could, especially since he saw her in every, even the most embarrassing, moment and witnessed her running around the yard with two pigtails and pink tights that always ended up dirty with mud. She knew that she could rely on him, sometimes much more than on her so-called friends. And she wanted it to work both ways, but sometimes she had the impression that there were moments when he looked at her through the prism of the age difference.

“Beer and a hamburger for my favourite customer,” she said cheerfully, placing a plate of food and a bottle of alcohol on the table. Taking advantage of the fact that she finally had a free moment during her shift, she took a seat opposite Joel. “Hard day?”

“Tiring, and I really don't want to go home so soon because…”

“Sarah's staying over at a friend's” she finished for him, recalling her morning conversation with the girl. “She mentioned something to me, that they'll be watching movies and eating sweets. It is quite a pleasant prospect.”

“Maybe you should follow her example and rest yourself.”Joel pointed at her and took a quick sip of his beer. “Which shift is it? Eight? Nine?”

“Ten.”

“Even better. Honey, you're too young to work yourself to death.”

“I guess it's a good thing I have the whole day off tomorrow. And I'm going to lie around and do nothing, but only after our breakfast together. Because I hope it's still relevant?”

“You ask as if you haven't dropped by our house and eaten the fridge in years.”

“Hey!” She laughed and pulled a pen out of her apron. She threw it at the man, who leaned back at the last moment and snorted with laughter. “That's called slander, Miller. Watch out, or I'll tip you twice.”

“I could even pay triple for your company.”

Joel winked at her, and she blushed at his words anyway. She tried to cover it up by fixing her hair, but she still thought he must have noticed. Whatever that meant, she must have forgotten about it, because the door to the bar opened and a drunk man entered. The smile fell from her face as she recognized him as a customer she genuinely hated. He always hit on, even harassed, all the waitresses. Normally she could handle him, but now that she saw that he was clearly drunk, she had a bad feeling.

“What's going on?” Joel asked with concern, then glanced over his shoulder at the new man who had just taken a seat a few tables away. “Who's that? Do you know him?”

“Unfortunately. He's one of our customers who... Let's just say he really likes to pick on all the girls at work. I hate him, but I have to serve him.”

“I'll be here if anything. Just let me know and…”

“Thanks, but take care of your burger. I'm not going to serve him anyway because he's drunk.”

“Just be careful, okay?”

“When I'm not,” Y/N replied teasingly and stood up from her seat.

She slowly made her way to the occupied table. When she turned around for a moment to see if Joel had listened to her, she shook her head in amusement. She could have expected that the only person he listened to was himself and did only and exclusively what he thought was right. At least that's how she preferred to explain his intense gaze on her, so as not to get her hopes up too high.

However, getting the client turned out to be much more difficult than she thought. The initial texts and comments might have seemed funny, but when his behaviour began to become aggressive and intrusive, she began to lose patience. It wasn't the first time she had been in such a situation, so she knew how to behave. She had learned a long time ago that being a woman, she was doomed to this type of behaviour. She could endure a pat on the butt or other such gestures, but when he started calling her names and raised his hand to hit her, she completely froze in place. Not only that, but she was paralysed and if not for Joel's quick reaction, she would probably have ended up with a mangled face.

Miller pushed her back and grabbed the drunk man by the collar of his shirt. He lifted him up, and as he continued to argue and fight, Joel struck him first. It all happened so quickly that all Y/N could do was watch in shock and fear as the two men exchanged blows, chairs were overturned, and table decorations were smashed. Eventually, however, it all passed, and Joel walked over to her and grabbed her by the arms.

“Hey, talk to me,” he said calmly, as if he hadn't been in the fight just minutes before. “Y/N?”

“Everything's okay,” she assured him, and to confirm her words, she patted his shoulders. It was then that she saw how bloody and raw his hands were. “You're hurt! Oh, my God, Joel!”

“It's nothing,” he waved his hand dismissively. “Are you closing up now? You've got enough to survive for one day.”

She just nodded.

Their trip was silent. Y/N could feel the fatigue and emotions of the last few events creeping up on her. She longed to go to bed and forget about it, especially since she was going to have to talk to her boss about what had happened when she got back from her day off. She had already informed her about it over the phone, and she was genuinely surprised because she had no complaints.

Joel parked his car in the driveway and turned off the engine. She looked at the windows in her house and saw that the light was on in her parents' room, which meant they were probably getting ready for bed. They had long since stopped waiting for her when she came back from her evening shifts, especially when Joel was the one who came to pick her up.

“Thank you for what you did.” Joel began to shake his head, as if her words were unnecessary, but she turned to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “It's true, Joel. I thought I was doing pretty well with him, but when he raised his hand to hit me, I completely panicked, and if it weren't for you, I would have…”

She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if she had been there alone.

“Any other guy would have done the same thing.”

“Maybe, but you didn't hesitate for a second. Whenever I need your help, you drop almost everything and help me. I hope you know how much that means to me.”

“If you’re trying to get me to make some tearful confessions, you’re doing a pretty good job,” he joked, and she shook her head in amusement. “Go home. Get some rest.”

“Oh no! Joel Miller, you saved me today, so let me repay you.” The man raised an eyebrow at her, and she pointed to his mangled hands. “Now it’s my turn to help you. You know I’ll treat those wounds like a professional nurse.”

“I know, because you’ve done it with Sarah so many times. Fine, but then you’re going straight home for a good night’s sleep.”

“I’m a grown woman and I can take care of myself, you know?”

“It’s hard to tell when you were running around the yard with two pigtails and pink tights just a few years ago.”

She rolled her eyes and got out of the car.

When she entered the Millers’ house, she felt at home. Sometimes she even considered this place her second home, because she spent almost as much time there as she did in her family's house. She didn't know what it had to do with it, but Joel's house had always been an oasis of warmth and love for her. She loved her parents and the fact that they provided her with everything they could, but because she was raised alone, she often felt lonely there. Here, she always knew she would find someone to talk to or watch some stupid movie. Mostly it was Sarah, whom she loved taking care of, but Tommy and Joel would show up just as often. She especially loved the moments when the four of them spent time together. To some, she might have been an outsider to the Miller family, but with them, she never felt that way.

Y/N quickly found the things she needed and went back to the living room, where Joel was waiting for her on the couch. He was sitting sprawled with his head up, and she stopped for a moment to watch him. She had long thought he was handsome, but she had the impression that with each passing year he looked even better. She could see that he was as tired as she was, but even now she could imagine sitting on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing their lips together. Her infatuation was dangerous, and she was fully aware of it. But she wouldn't be able to break what connected her to Joel. She preferred their strange, friendly relationship to nothing.

“Don't fall asleep, old man,” she said jokingly, walking over to the couch he was sitting on. Joel straightened up, making room for her next to him.

“I'm not old enough to be called that.”

“I'll remind you when I see first grey hair.”

“Mine or yours?”

She laughed merrily and then began to bandage his hands. The only sounds in the room were quiet hisses and moans, but Y/N still had the impression that Joel could hear her loudly beating heart. She did everything she could to focus on her task as much as possible, but the man's proximity was definitely distracting for her. She suspected that it might have something to do with what had happened. Emotions still clung to her, even if she had already come to terms with it.

But now she seemed to feel Joel's presence next to her more strongly. They had been in such situations more than once, but at this moment she was holding back with the last bit of willpower not to do something stupid.

“It's done,” she said after a short while with complete satisfaction. “I hope it heals quickly.”

“After such professional help?”

“Professional and completely free,” she emphasised, and began to clean up all the things. She wanted to get up, but Joel grabbed her hand and stopped her in her tracks.

“Leave it and sit down. You're exhausted and you just bandaged my wounds. You don't have to clean up yet.”

“Oh, okay,” she sighed quietly. She leaned back against the couch, defeated, and felt a shiver as their shoulders touched. “Are you thinking about something specific?”

“No. What about you?”

“Nothing specific either.”

Joel snorted and looked at her with amusement. She thought she was crazy, because otherwise she couldn't understand how she leaned over Miller and placed a short kiss on his lips. She wasn't even sure if she should call it a kiss, because their lips only touched lightly before she pulled away. But those few seconds allowed her to get to know his taste, and she knew that nothing tasted as intoxicating as his lips. It wasn't her first kiss in her life, but for a moment, that's exactly how she felt.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have,” she began with flushed cheeks.

Then something happened that completely surprised her. Joel didn't answer, but grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer. Then he connected their lips together in a longer and definitely confident kiss. Without thinking, she opened her lips wider, giving him better access and at the same time allowing him to take control of the whole situation. She felt like her ears were buzzing, and her heart wanted to jump out of her chest. The whole world had stopped, and her biggest dream was coming true.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and moaned quietly when he gently bit her lip. Joel grabbed her by the waist and sat her on his lap. Holding her hips tightly, he guided her to where he needed her the most. He growled right into her mouth, and then his hands moved up. Y/N felt a shiver run through her body as she felt his touch on her. But she wanted more and cursed everything that they were still wearing clothes at the moment. When she thought about it, her fingers almost immediately went to the buttons of his shirt. When she unbuttoned the first one, she waited a moment, because as much as she wanted this to continue, she had to be sure that he wanted it too.

Joel didn't push her away, but continued. His hands quickly found their way to her shoulders. He pulled the straps of her tank top to the side, so that the outline of her breasts and the black bra she was wearing were visible from under the material. He kissed her jaw, then her neck, and she gasped loudly as he sucked in the extremely sensitive skin by her ear. At the same time, she unbuttoned the buttons on his shirt, until she could finally feel his warm skin under her fingers. His chest rose and fell, and she traced short patterns on his torso and sides with her fingers. She ran her nails down his back and slowly moved her hips forward and back, feeling the bulge in his pants, which she was sure was starting to bother him more and more.

“Joel,” she murmured in his ear as she felt him squeeze her breast, then slip his thumb under the material of her bra. “Please…”

She didn't know what exactly she was asking for. She wanted him to finally take off her shirt, so she could feel his touch better. She wanted to feel his hands and lips all over her. She was completely lost for him and didn't think about whether they were doing the right thing or what would happen next.

But the last thing she wanted was for Joel to pull away from her.

“We can't,” he said in a hoarse voice, resting his forehead against hers. He held her around the waist, but not as tightly as before. “We got carried away.”

“What?” she asked, not believing what she was hearing.

Miller smiled and, as if nothing had happened, sat her back down on the couch next to him.

“Go home and rest. We'll talk some other day.”

He kissed her on the cheek, then stood up and headed up the stairs to his bedroom.

She didn't quite know what was going on, and it took her a few good minutes to pull herself together and get things in order. Her ears were still ringing, she could feel his touch on her body, but she couldn't get over the fact that she had been pushed away at the most crucial moment. She clenched her fists tightly and promised herself that tomorrow they would sort it all out. She had to know if this little moment meant as much to him as it did to her.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #elliaze #@cafekitsune

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izvmimi · 10 months ago

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All Roads Lead to Love? - Chapter III

cw: alcohol mention. quirk use. medical scenes. bad fashion. Please see additional masterlist warnings! Masterlist

Izuku stares at your number on his phone and his stomach turns as his thumb hovers over the call button.

Then he looks up. Shoto hasn’t said a word in the last ten minutes, content with finishing up the last of a sandwich and scrolling through his phone. Shoto has a bad habit of responding to every thirsty comment he gets and Izuku doesn’t bother telling him not to at this point. That’s PR’s problem and they get paid handsomely for it.

“How bad is it if I call a girl who might have a boyfriend?” Izuku says it wincingly, as if the very idea pains him.

Shoto doesn’t look up. “I mean if you’re just saying hi, it’s not illegal. Otherwise it’s harassment.”

Izuku should know better than to expect tact from him. Izuku pushes his phone away from him and replaces the emptiness of his right hand with a handful of fries to stuff into his mouth. Shoto looks up and raises his eyebrow at him, then shakes his head.

“I thought you and Ochaco broke up.”

“We DID.” Izuku insists, annoyed. “Over half a year ago?”

Shoto shrugs. “I mean it’s not like it’s obvious, the three of you still hang out all the time.”

Izuku frowns. This is true, but it’s been less so in recent times, and the media storm related to it is brewing, he feels, when the distance, now more obvious, gets spun into netizen debate but he’s hoping to shield himself from it.

Perhaps he shouldn’t bother you just for that reason alone. Especially if you have someone. You won’t have him. Not in this life, not in the next.

“It’s about ___,” he finally admits. Shoto looks slightly confused for a moment and Izuku practically growls at him before he recalls.

“Oh.”

Sighing, Izuku leans back into his chair and lets his shoulders slump. Perhaps he’s creepy to still feel this way about you, but there’s not much he can do about it. He was doing so well too until he saw you yesterday, and…

That fucking guy.

Izuku runs his hands through his hair. Life is too cyclical for him right now.

“How are you and Mo-?” he asks instead but Shoto shrugs, interrupting him before he can ask any other questions.

“Fine.”

Sometimes talking to Shoto is like pressing oil from a stone, but Shoto suddenly asks Izuku a follow-up question.

“You know, if you’re still pining for that long, does it really matter at this point if she has a boyfriend?”

Izuku looks shocked, but Shoto is dead serious. He blinks.

“Just tell her how you feel anyway. That way she can tell you no to your face and you’ll get over it.”

Izuku feels something in his heart rend, but Shoto’s insane advice has a shocking amount of weight to it.

As usual. He just has to work up the nerve to listen to it.

—

A couple of weeks pass. You’ve found yourself staring at Izuku’s number in your phone far more than you have in years, wondering if you should tell him what happened and knowing that it would make you sound crazy. How do you even start such a conversation?

Hey I know I haven’t spoken to you for real in years, but some kid with a quirk made clones of me that suggest you’re my soulmate? Oh by the way, I loved you back then but just never told you? Anyway, break up with your girlfriend, a literal angel, because I’m bored.

You call one of your friends, not the ones who went to UA with you and told you not to suppress your feelings, but another one who will tell you you’re ridiculous and to focus on the very available man in front of you, if you must insist on rekindling old flames.

And she tells you exactly what you want to hear.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

You sigh, absorbing the hit, but you’re thankful. “I know.”

“If he fumbled you then, he fumbles forever,” she says, unabashedly. You can see her now, painting her toenails with one hand, and petting her cat with another. It doesn’t matter to her that fate says otherwise, just the lack of effort on either part.

Don’t let us convince you how to feel, you remember an alternate version of you say.

It’s the wake-up call you need.

That evening, you meet up with Akira impromptu and he fulfills his promise of your favorite sushi and wine. Drinking more than usual to forget whatever your clones have to say, you find that Akira’s lips are somehow more comforting now that you’re older, and his hugs are tighter, and while you don’t end up sleeping together by the end of the night, the thought of laying under him in the near future brings a warmth to your chest that feels like the beginning of newly rekindled love.

—

“Are you this embarrassed to be seen with me?” Inko snickers, walking just a couple paces behind her son, whose broad shoulders are hunched over as he shrouds himself in a hoodie, a hat and sunglasses. He looks somewhat ridiculous like this, with the effect of making his already very noticeable frame stick out more, and the fact that he’s dressed head to toe in merch that doesn’t exactly match color scheme-wise (Froppy socks and Red Riot shoes, and Pinky’s iconic tie-dye pattern are not exactly easy on the eyes) doesn’t help.

“I just want to get in and out without incident,” Izuku murmurs quietly. Inko laughs and pats his back as he continues to push a shopping cart past the crowded hallways. He wishes his mother would have chosen a better day for grocery shopping because he woke up grumpier than usual today, which is really saying something, but these runs are important for her. She misses him and this is just one of the ways he can remind her that above all else, she’s still his son.

“That’s not like you.” She rubs his back gently and Izuku’s mouth twists to the side.

It isn’t, but it is him at the very moment. All he can think about is the fact that he feels like he should call you and he has no idea what to say, and the idea of you desperately finding ways to hang up on him makes him sick to his stomach. He’s tired and overworked. He’s seen at least one article speculating on his romantic life since this morning, now that Iida and Ochaco were found cavorting on a beach, and he’s starving.

The last one is a problem he can fix. Realistically, the first one is too but all he can think of is rejection and the label of creep.

Izuku Midoriya, current #1 Hero and absolute creep.

“I just need a break.” Polite enough to grab two cans of vegetables from the highest shelf, a couple for him and his mom, and one for the lady that seems to be reaching but too embarrassed to ask for help. She thanks him and he says not to mention it, then lets the cart speed off before she can think too hard about who he looks or sounds like.

Deku is very popular with older middle-aged ladies.

A little further down, he stops so that Inko can catch up with him. She’s still in high spirits and he resists the urge to shudder when thinking about how well her and Toshinori’s date last night went. He’d picked her up from his apartment and that may have been a little too much for him but he’s accepted this arrangement for now.

If his mom is happy, then he is.

They chat more about everything then nothing, while Izuku keeps the conversation away from how good his mentor is as a lover, then earning a moment for himself to scroll through the news on his phone while his mother chats up the workers at the fish market. He’s too engrossed, analyzing the scathing review of property damage with Dynamight and Red Riot’s combined recent save, until he looks up and sees Inko walk in a sudden opposite direction. Curious as to where she’s going but not moving yet, his eyes follow her, but when he realizes where she’s waving to, he almost shits his pants.

This can’t be serious.

It’s you again. You look just as surprised as he is, your mouth slightly agape, a pomelo in your right hand over at the produce section. Suddenly, he is acutely aware of exactly what kind of fashion disaster he is, and looks around, calculating the chances he can hide without being noticed by anyone or being called out by his mother. It’s not like you are particularly dressed to the nines either - you’re in an oversized hoodie too (Izuku wonders if it’s yours or Akira’s for a moment), the hood drawn close around your unmade but clean face, and yoga pants, sneakers that at least match unlike his clashing shoes. Although you look slightly uncomfortable the longer Inko talks to you, he can tell it’s less about not being kind and more shyness.

He spends more time observing you than making an escape route, and Inko finally betrays him by pointing over to him. You look like you’ve gone ashen when you see him, and it smarts; he offers you the smallest of awkward waves but Inko takes your wrist gently and pulls you over to him jovially.

And now you’re face to face again. He swallows hard, feeling the palms of his hands get sweaty as he grips the shopping cart handles. He has no idea how it’s gotten like this, and neither do you. You’re stiff as a board, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

Just why do you dislike him so much? He wonders, but he has no time to lament, lest he make this worse than it already is.

“You know, I still have a picture of you two in my house!” Inko says, cheerfully. “I’m surprised you guys don’t still hang out often.”

Your stomach turns, and both of you don’t realize that you’re thinking the same thing -

Because they didn’t like me back, back then.

Desperate to make small talk, you say, “Oh, do you come here often?”

Izuku blinks, trying to comprehend your own ridiculous question you regret asking, but only makes it worse.

“To the grocery store? Oh yeah, haha, need to eat too!”

He laughs a little too loud, and in attempting to convince himself and you that he’s funny, slaps the handle of the shopping cart, which subsequently tips backwards which he scrambles to resettle. You and Inko both look shocked, and by the time he’s guided things back into carts, Inko is laughing nervously too. By now, Izuku has garnered more than a couple of stares from nearby customers, and quickly bumping him out of the way, she picks up on his odd behavior and rescues him.

“Ha, well it was nice to see you again, hun, I hope things have been well! Say hi to the family for me,” she waves, and quickly pulls Izuku along with her.

You remain planted watching him, wondering what trick the universe is playing on you.

Of all the grocery stores in Japan, your search for one specific food item brought you to Izuku, no matter how badly you try to avoid him.

—

“Can I ask a stupid question?”

Camilla looks up from where she’s perusing through a rack of work blouses then looks back to you.

“None of your questions are stupid. Shoot.”

You let your hands leaf through a stack of folded jeans, then pace a little as her eyes follow you, mulling over the words to use under your breath. After all, you haven’t explained the multiverse thing yet although you’re usually open about most things, for fear that she will hit you with an ‘I told you so’, even if she’s generally very kind about it. But you do still need to know.

“Do you still have people from way-back-when that you’ve liked?” you ask. Camilla gives you a look, then walks over and takes your face dramatically in her hands.

“Once again, I am begging you to stop going on dates with that weirdo,” she says. You find yourself laughing. She wasn’t too keen on the second date, and not the third, and while she didn’t explain in detail, she’s observed Akira enough over time (since they were both in the Support class) to not be particularly fond of him at all.

“I mean he really isn’t that bad.”

“He’s boastful and a womanizer,” she says again, now turned back to laying shirts onto her chest. “How does this look?”

“Oh, it’s cute,” you approve, noting how nicely the turquoise in semi-sheer material appears against her complexion.

“Great,” she takes it and pushes it into your arms. “This is for you. Glad you like it!”

Camilla’s tricked you again. You came out here intending not to leave with more clothing and yet…

“Let me be fair. Akira gives the energy of an unserious person, but perhaps he’s changed over time. I could be wrong.” She softens her stance, putting her hand on her hips. You snort for a moment, but you can easily see why she thinks this way - he is a bit airheaded for your liking, and the sudden declaration of re-interest in you does seem brusque. But the truth is you’re not tied up with anyone else, so it doesn’t really matter if you allow yourself to have some fun.

On top of that, you’re not really thinking about Akira in this particular case.

Sucking in a deep breath, and considering that you might immediately regret it, you decide to tell her what happened just weeks ago. By the time you’re done explaining, her hand is over her mouth, but then she smiles practically to the back of her teeth, and you realize you’re in trouble.

“Now that’s what romance novels are made of.”

“Camilla…” you start. She giggles and twirls a bit.

“Why are you questioning it? We saw the way he looked at you-”

You grimace. “He did not.”

She rolls her eyes. “Listen, if a man looked at me like that, I’d truly not sit here and argue with my friend about it.” She’s wandering between racks of clothing again, and you find yourself following her naturally just as you have for the past hour.

Your lips press into a thin line. “It sounds like a good story, but truly if he wanted me back then, he would have had me by now.”

As it comes out, you immediately regret it. Lead forms in your stomach as you think of what you just admitted, and Camilla is now digging through skirts that you’re not sure are for you or for herself.

“So clearly the problem is him. .That’s something we can sort out soon enough, now can’t we?”

In seconds, she’s zapped your phone right out of your pocket, flying directly into her open right hand.

“I’ll call him,” she sings.

If the panic that overcame you at that moment could revitalize a human being, you’d have resurrected an entire cemetery at once.

“… You wouldn’t,” is the phrase that comes out of you weakly, in a hush. Camilla grins, unlocking your phone (you consider that you probably shouldn’t have given out your passcode as recently as last week’s sleepover), and scrolls through your contacts briefly before settling on his name. She considers it for a moment, truly, but the deep frown on your face and your approach to her make it sufficiently clear that you’re not above wrestling your phone out of her very hands in the middle of a department store. Twisting her mouth to the side, she decides to throw the phone back to you.

”Coward,” she murmurs.

You slip your phone in your pocket, considering changing your passcode that very second, glaring at her.

“Stay out of my business,” you snap, but then you break out into giggles, partially out of relief. She laughs too, and pulls out another dress, glimmering in the overhead light, a soft purple chiffon number.

”You’re coming with me to the next gala and you’re wearing this.”

”I don’t think Mirio will appreciate losing his date,” you muse. She’s already off looking at the rows of pumps and stilettos, giving you a throwaway glance, but not without a sparkle in her eye.

”I think sunshine boy has enough admirers, and you’ve spent enough time hiding in the shadows.” She beams as you take it from her hands, adding to the pile of things you already have to try on.

You huff in pretend annoyance but you can never fault your friend.

“I’ll consider it.”

—

3 months since your first meeting passing faster than you know it, your most involved pediatric patient returns, and right on time.

“How’s little Kazuo doing?”

You’re excited to see him, and he looks better than you expected, the young boy kicking his feet comfortably, his blue eyes shaded this time by a toy replica of Can’t Stop Twinkling’s iconic red shades offered to him by Junko. He takes the time to remove a lollipop from his mouth and looks at you with a big grin, and it warms you inside out.

“Good!” he says. Mrs. Minamoto smiles at him as you ruffle his hair gently then look at her to confirm that this is true, and she does.

The quirk stabilizers have been working wonders, she says, and you decline testing his quirk currently, not because you really don’t want to see another legion of Deku wives/girlfriends tell you that you’re making a wrong decision with your life, but because the child looks like he’ll do best undisturbed today.

“Any breakthroughs?” you ask.

“No incidents,” she affirms. “No strangers, doppelgangers or weird unexplained objects, thank goodness,” she adds, and she appears genuinely relieved which makes you glad for her.

“Good!” You take a few notes down on your legal pad then clasp your hands together.. “Do you think you’d be comfortable with a spacing regimen?”

She looks resistant immediately, which is understandable, and you quickly recant your suggestion. Rolling back in your wheeled stool to your computer where you’re documenting, you click a few buttons to renew the child’s prescription for another 3 months.

“We can give it time. So far we haven’t found anyone in the database reports with a quirk remotely similar to this, as you already know from our written communication, but if you’d like we can take some time to let him experiment with his abilities at small intervals, or we can continue the stabilizers until we can set you up with the appropriate coaching program.”

She picks the latter, as you expect.

“I… I just think he’s too young to be twisting and turning the universe like this,” she says. With this, she pulls her son closer to her, who looks comfortable yet concerned with his mother’s reaction.

“Absolutely.”

You mean to be compassionate. After all, her son has already messed with your life as you know it, so perhaps a bit more time for things to normalize is warranted.

Mrs. Minamoto lets out a sigh, then taps her heels on the ground. You look back at her after signing a few electronic documents to approve medications and next time visits.

“Is it wrong for me to stop him from using his ability?” she asks. “I don’t want to stunt him… I just…” she trails off and you shake your head.

“All you’re doing is giving him time to adjust safely. We’ll work on this together, okay? It’s a huge amount of power for such a tiny person, so let’s give him a little bit more time to grow into it.”

Mrs. Minamoto looks teary-eyed and you offer her a reassuring handhold.

“It doesn’t hurt to give a little more time to reflect and plan. After all, what’s destined to happen will happen regardless.”

Kazuo’s sea-green eyes focus right on you at this moment, and for a moment you wonder if he’s challenging how much you believe in the words you so easily say.

—

“Oi, we’re heading out.”

Katsuki’s speech is partially slurred, and Ochaco giggles politely as she waves him and his date out, her own naturally pink cheeks red herself, just as quite a few others in this private room. She nudges Iida who is staring off very slightly into space, his own look somewhat dazed even though he looks like he’d be much less of a lightweight, and Izuku notices how quickly Iida returns to reality from her touch, then waves in turn.

“Make sure to text when you get home!” Iida and Ochaco both practically say in unison.

Perhaps they are made for each other, he thinks for a moment. By now, the two are official with the group of Heroes they frequent in and no one bothers to ask him any more questions, and he’s thankful for it, but it’s still awkward to be invited to these group outings that feel more like dates these days, particularly since the girl who’s seated next to him has long since given up on conversation and is now blatantly swiping right on a dating app, hoping to get lucky somewhere else before the night is over. He’s not bothering paying her any mind more than is polite; after all his mind is elsewhere. Izuku watches Katsuki whisper something into Runa’s ear as he adjusts her jacket onto her shoulders, and she laughs and taps his shoulder back.

Izuku wishes he could broach the subject of you, one of her best friends, but Runa has been preoccupied for most of the night with talking to Katsuki, and he knows better than to interfere with Katsuki getting the attention he craves. A smaller part of him wonders if he could just ask her to bring you with her next time, but that’s an insane request, and while Runa once was partial to teasing both him and you more than a little often in high school, she does her best not to bring you up whenever he has the chance to speak to her.

Almost as if you’ve told her explicitly not to.

It’s nearing midnight, and Izuku calls over their waiter to foot the bill this time, having made arrangements early on with the group to manage the table. His ‘date’ orders another drink without looking up which Izuku doesn’t even bother to be annoyed about, while Shoto and his girlfriend, nicknamed Mochi, also look to be getting ready to leave, him sticking so close he’s practically wrapping her in his peacoat. It dawns on him that he might actually be stuck as the last person in the room with the most uninterested person in the world but thankfully Ochaco and Iida seem to remain steadfast in keeping him company.

“Thanks for paying, Izuku,” Ochaco says a little bit later, rubbing gentle circles on Iida’s back. Iida is now practically facedown, but still gesturing something with his hands in agreement.

He smiles.

“Of course.”

“Thank you for coming out too,” she says again later, when Texter has found a match and makes her way out and Izuku is once again the third wheel to his two best friends. Iida has stepped out to use the bathroom before leaving, and he and Ochaco stand outside in the frigid night under the moonlight. It’s the first time they’ve stood like this together in months, but the silence between them was less uncomfortable than it was pensive then.

Izuku again continues to pretend that he hasn’t had a terrible night, but he knows Ochaco can tell. After all, Ochaco is one of the few people that knows him better than anyone, when his mind is preoccupied with something else, when he’s uncomfortable, when things are wrong. Just because she chose to ignore that feeling of being in the wrong place when the right person was standing next to her the whole time, does not mean she doesn’t know his heart intimately.

“Has everything been okay?” she asks.

Izuku offers a nervous laugh. “Yeah, don’t worry, I’m not sad or heartbroken or anything,” he replies. He’s assumed incorrectly that he knows what she means, and when he turns to look at her, she’s frowning.

“I didn’t mean it in that way,” she murmurs.

Izuku knows she’s being honest.

“I know whatever is making you feel less you has nothing to do with me, or rather…-” she looks away for a moment, back towards the entrance of the restaurant - “us, but I just want you to be happy, okay?”

Izuku nods, his throat suddenly dry.

Iida arrives soon and with hugs, the two set off, and Izuku walks home alone, checking his phone the entire way, looking twice at the text he considered sending you just to say hello, liquid courage in his veins still not enough to press send.

…

“What are you looking at?” Akira asks. He’s grinning, gold eyes as bright as the candles flickering on your dining table, and you turn off your phone, flipping it over and pushing it out of sight as you reach for the breadbasket.

“Runa’s out with friends and wanted to show me a pic.” The pic in question shows the group of your classmates at UA, including a couple of unidentified characters, and it looks like a group date. You take in the features of the girl who sits next to Izuku, beach-blonde and bright-eyed, staring a little too long, then focus back on Runa who is taking the selfie, Katsuki taking up far more of the picture than you wish he would but expect him to.

“Ah, your friend that hangs out with all the top Heroes, right?” he asks. You twist your mouth to the side, as you look up at him then click your screen off.

“Yeah. I mean, she too is a top hero…”

He shrugs, then returns to his cut of steak. Without looking up, he adds, “I’m surprised you distanced yourself from them after all this time, but can’t say I’m not thankful for it.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. Akira looks up at you, as though surprised that you’re even challenging him on that notion. You’ve had many a discussion on how detrimental heroes are to society, even after the meta war had almost ended Japan as you knew it, but you couldn’t imagine he still held those views all this time. Hero Society has settled, although it has morphed and changed. Heroes remain celebrities but they’re no longer gods among men in the way All Might was.

Well, at least most aren’t.

“I just think for regular people like us, it’s better not to stay so entangled with that archetype, you know,” Akira adds. You’ve been through this train of conversation before, and your lips press into a thin line but you hold your tongue for now. Regular people like us. Like you and him.

“I mean, think of that asshole Deku,” he starts.

There it is.

“Akira, can you pass me the butter, actually?” You won’t let another night be ruined by the mere mention of his name. He passes it, but you can tell he’s annoyed by your interjection.

“As usual, you immediately defend Midoriya,” he presumes. You try to remain polite enough not to roll your eyes, but you’re really being tested, and are suddenly no longer able to hold it in.

“It’s been over a decade,” you remind him. “Will you get over whatever your preoccupation with him is? He hasn’t mattered to me in so long, but if you want to speak to him and talk through whatever feelings you have harbored all this time, hopefully I can find a way to hook the two of you up.”

As the words come out, you start to regret your overreaction, but it’s just a couple months into this budding relationship and the thought of a repeat of Akira’s high school insecurity while you’re on your way to your 30s is unbearable.

Especially knowing that perhaps this time, there’s a good reason to.

Akira gives you a meaningful look, then takes a bite of his steak, chews and swallows, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. You take a sip of your sparkling water, keeping eye contact as well. It’s not meant to be a challenge but you want to convey that this particular conflict is over and not to be revisited. The message is clear.

“As long as it stays that way.”

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimi writes: arltl #mimi's notes

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lunathebee · 2 years ago

Text

Pairing: Yandere!servant!Steven Grant x Royal!fem!reader

Warning: long as hell, ooc!Steven, suggestive theme, blood, dead people

A/n: pls send help lol

Summary: I am devoted to you my queen

Taglist: @missbeeentertainment @sleepyamaya @renee834729

THE FIRST STAGE: LOVE

Once upon a time, far away in the mist of cloud, there was a kingdom ruled by one powerful queen named Y/n. She is adored by all the civilians due to her kindness and humble nature.

Just when everyone thinks the queen herself will continue to thrive, an old man who claimed to be a fortune teller knocks on the kingdom's gate, wishing for a place to sleep.

"Your grace, I have no money, but I possess a thing everybody craves to get a taste of: the future. If you let me stay in your kingdom for one night, I will let you see a glimpse of your future. Do we have a deal?" The old man speaks in a groggy voice; his teeth are all yellow and rotten.

All the guards hid their faces in disgust when the foul smell hit their noses, but unlike them, Y/N never batted an eye; she demanded the guard to open the gate and let the old man in.

"Yo-Your grace, my apologies for interrupting, but please think carefully about your decision. That old man is nothing but a scam." The counselor spoke

Y/n let out a long sigh before continuing. "He might be...but my oh my... It would be great to see the future. I hope there will only be good news".

Unfortunately, the old man had different news for our queen the morning after.

"Your grace, you're about to face a terrible fate, one that could cost you your crown and this kingdom. When I look into your future, I see blood and people screaming for help. The color red is everywhere. Your grace-"

Before the old man could continue, a silver sword swung at him, only stopping a few centimetres from his neck. "SILENT! How dare you speak nonsense to the queen? You- " Y/n's personal knight has lost his temple and decides to act on his own.

"Let him speaks"

"But-"

"I said...let him speaks"

And so, thanks to the queen's kindness, the old man can finish his words. "Your grace, I see...a man standing tall in the chaos."

Y/n raised her eyebrows in curiosity. Could this be the sign of a new king? Will she be dethroned?

"...I also see love, very intense love"

Perhaps this is her true love, the one whom she will fall in love and rule the kingdom with her? Y/n continues to wander off with her thoughts. She doesn't see the old man has stopped speaking and wishes to leave the kingdom.

And when the queen finally noticed, the guards had gone to send off the man miles away, leaving her with many uncertain questions about the future.

=== 5 days later ===

"Please-please..." Another man calling for help outside the kingdom gate, but unlike the previous old man, this guy is fairly young with brown curly hair and dressed in clothes that have big holes in them.

"Hey! Get out of here! " The guards yell at him to leave; they don't want to deal with another stinky person; that old man from last week is more than enough!

"What are you guys doing? How rude... Let him in, and leave me be" Y/n furrows her eyebrows when she sees her own guard harassing a poor guy. It seems like it's time to replace some people in the kingdom.

"Ah! Ah-.. I...thank you" The man kneels down to show respect when he gets in. There isn't much that he knows about the person in front of him, but he is smart enough to know that jewelry and sparkly clothes are meant for royal people, things that poor people like him can only dream of seeing and touching.

Y/n crouch down to make the man feel more at ease. Their eyes touch for a moment, and the world seems to stop turning.

The queen's eyes widen in surprise. Despite all the dirt spots littering his face, he is such a handsome man with bright round eyes that shine like stars in the night sky.

And she is not the one who is amazed by the other person here. The poor man is in awe of Y/n's beauty too, to the point where he has to quickly look away, afraid that a man like him doesn't have the privilege to look at her.

"What's your name?" Y/n asked but only received an incoherent noise from the young man.

He appeared to be confused too. That's when the queen realized he had very little vocabulary. It's not unusual for people like him to grow up without proper learning, but usually they teach themselves from time to time. In this case, the man must be neglected for a long time and only get to interact a few times.

"Me. Y/n" The queen points to herself and says her name, she hopes the man understands this.

Luckily, his face lights up and he excitedly points at himself. "Me. Steven!"

"Steven..." Y/n repeat the name, unknowingly sending a chill down Steven's back. The way you say his name is so sweet, like honey even.

He wants to hear you say it more...and more...and more. Please only say his name from now on. Steven feels hot all of a sudden. His brain controls him to grab your arm, eyes full of lust.

"Ah...Ah name, name Steven" He wants you to say his name again, but he still doesn't know how yet. All he could do was mutter out a few words.

Before Y/n could even process what was happening, her counselor ran up with a few guards, yelling at Steven. "Hey you! Touching the queen is strictly forbidden! "

One of the guards yanks Steven back from Y/n, forcing him to stay away from her.

"AGHHH NO NO" Steven thrashes around and tries to fight back, it is almost insane how much strength he has despite his looks. It took another guard to jump in to pin Steven on the ground, completely overpowering him.

It all happened so fast Y/n could only stare at the poor man, watching his hand get tied behind his back, his face smashed into the ground so hard there was blood running from his nose. "Y/N! Y/N!" Steven called for help from her but received another hit in the head from the guard, almost knocking him unconscious.

The absurd scene makes Y/N want to vomit. The queen decides to turn her head away, which only makes Steven more furious and depressed.

"What will we do with him, your grace? May I say... execute the man! " The counselor speaks. It is not that he hates Steven, but rules are rules, unless the queen decides differently.

"No...let him be a servant, also..."

"Yes my grace?"

"Find someone to teach him how to read and speak. Now, run me a bath; I feel like having a headache from all of this" Y/n rubs her temple and begins to head back to the kingdom. Her counselor escorts her on the left.

THE SECOND STAGE: FALL

As time flies by, the Steven we used to know now turns into a well-mannered man, but the curly hair and his big round eyes still stay the same. Many maids in the kingdom fight each other just to talk to him, they fix their hair and clothes as he passes by, hoping to attract his attention.

But Steven only has his eyes on the queen and the queen only. Ever since they first met, he has known she is his true love. For Y/n, he has been studying and working hard on everything, all for "the picking" day.

It is an event that only happens once every 7 months. The queen will pick out her new maid, king, counselor, anyone she feels the need to replace; Steven is looking forward to being Y/n's personal servant.

She will picks him right? After all they had been through, Steven knew Y/n would pick him because she loved him as much as he loved her.

Y/n loves Steven, that's the truth, she-

"You can be my new personal servant, go change your clothes"

Steven looks to the side in disbelief. His queen has walked past and chosen another man. A man that looks nothing special or unique, a man that has nothing better than... him.

"WHY DON'T YOU CHOOSE ME?" Steven yells out loud. He doesn't care about how everyone is looking at him in shock. At this moment, only Y/n exists in his eyes. He devoted his life to her. He has done everything for her and yet she still doesn't love him.

Giving him no attention? Fine, but having another man as her personal servant? No... Steven won't allow that. He feels his blood boiling the more he thinks about you, it gives him a weird feeling, more like a rage.

"I can choose whoever I want....Steven"

You say his name again. Steven knows he wishes you to say his name more and his name only. But this is not what he meant, he wants you to say it with love and adored expression, not hate and irritation. No... No, what had he done?

THE THIRD STAGE: HURT

"NO NO NO YOU WILL CHOOSE ME, YOU WILL LOVE ME". Steven sprints at Y/n, he has had enough.

"GUARD! STOP HIM BEFORE HE HURT THE QUEEN" Someone yell out in horror.

To be honest, Steven doesn't know what he was going to do. He just wants you to look at him differently. He is no longer the dirty boy you met in the past Y/n, so why won't you look at him? Why are you acting so scared? Why are you crying?

People start to run away in panic. They don't care about the queen anymore. They just want to flee away, putting their lives first. One moment, Steven is being held down by many guards. The next moment, he finds himself holding a sword, warm blood hitting his face.

'Don't touch her, GET AWAY, GET OUT' Steven's thoughts run wild when he continues to swing the sword, hitting people in their chests, arms, and maybe even heads like a machete cutting down grass. He wants to get to Y/n as soon as possible, and these people are blocking his way.

THE FINAL STAGE: CRAZY

It was almost like a fever dream mixed with a nightmare. Y/n felt like she was experiencing déjà vu the closer Steven got to her. 'A man stands tall in the chaos, red blood everywhere'

"Please...please don't hurt me" The queen cried out in fear, overstimulation from the smell of iron filling her lungs.

Steven drops the sword on the marble ground and hugs you tightly like he is your knight in shining armor. In his mind, you're the princess in danger and he just killed all the monsters to save you.

"Don't cry, it hurts me when you cry." Steven whispers, his hot breath fanning over Y/n's ear. "I haven't given you a reason to cry yet."

The queen who once seemed to be so powerful, now shakes like a leaf in the arm of a lowly servant. She gulped, trying not to cry while mustered out a few words. "What...do you want from me?"

Steven doesn't say anything back. He gives Y/n a sinister smile before holding both of her wrists in place and smashing his lips onto her, devoring her like a beast.

"I want....everything".

#yandere moon knight #yandere #yandere steven grant #yandere male #yandere steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #tw.yandere #moon knight imagine #moon knight x reader #yandere x darling

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deceitfuldevil · 3 years ago

Text

Professional

Matt Murdock X Reader

Summary: In celebration of landing a new job, you and your friends went out drinking the night before your first day to celebrate; and what better way to celebrate than to have a one night stand? That celebration idea seems well and fun until you arrive for your first day at your new job, and your boss’s boss is the guy you just hooked up with last night.

Warnings: lots of mentions of alcohol, drinking, mentions of being drunk and tipsy, mentions of a one night stand, swearing, use of pet names, allusions to harassment, reader is nearly mugged, use of y/n, fighting, mentions of blood, SMUT (mdni, 18+), fingering (fem! receiving), p in v sex, choking, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie if you squint, praise kink.

Word Count: 4.5K

It had been a long day, too long. All the more reason why you were very excited to go out with your friends tonight to celebrate landing a new job after over a year at your old shitty one. It was just you and two of your closest friends, Leila and Casey, getting shitfaced at Josie’s one more time before your schedule was no longer clear. After months of being unemployed and living off your savings, you had finally landed a job as a secretary for an office manager to some law firm in Hell’s Kitchen.

You were practically hired on the spot. The office manager you met with, Karen, insisted she had a good feeling about you. Calling you up later that night telling you when your first day was, you were expected in the office at 7am sharp. So with it being 1am and also being about five shots deep, you had about 6 more hours of freedom and fun. . . and what could be more fun than a one night stand?

That’s exactly what you thought to yourself as you downed another shot and gazed over to the pool tables, locking eyes on one particular man. A blind one at that. “Hmm, watch this.” you said with an amused tone, nudging Leila gently before making your way over to the handsome blind man and his shaggy haired friend. “Oh no, not again.” Leila said under her breath, watching you stumble over to the pair of guys playing pool.

��S-so tell me. . .” you slurred, leaning up against the bar shelf next to the pool table the pair were playing at. “How does a blind man play pool?” you said cheekily, waving a finger tediously at the man with dark red lenses embellishing his face.

“Oh, I can do a lot more than play pool sweetheart.” the attractive man said smoothly. “Oh boy, here we go again.” the longer haired friend grumbled, lining up his next shot with a roll of his eyes. But you paid him no attention, your system buzzing with anticipation about what to say next to keep him on the line.

“Hmm, yeah? Like what?” you quipped flirtatiously, and things only escalated from there. Once you learned each other’s names, he was taking you home and making you scream it all night. No one night stand had ever kept you going for hours on end like Matt did, or maybe it was the alcohol in your system that made it feel that way. Regardless, after passing out from what you were sure was your third or fourth orgasm, the next time you woke you realized it was now 5am.

“Shit. . . shit.” you cursed quietly to yourself as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, feet hitting the cold floor. You turned your eyes back to Matt, seeing him sleeping soundly. You wanted to curl up into his side and stay there the rest of the night, but your first day at your new job started in two hours. So you quietly slipped out of his apartment, contemplating leaving a note until you remembered he’s blind. You frowned softly to yourself, knowing without his number in such a big city you’d probably never see him again. You closed the door behind you and made your way home.

After coming home you quickly showered and got ready for your first day, putting on a long pencil skirt and an airy blouse trying to mimic your new boss’s look. You stepped outside of your apartment building and hailed a cab, arriving at your new place of work just in time.

“Y/n! Right on time! I appreciate a secretary who’s punctual.” Karen spoke, stepping out of the doorway she was just standing in.

“Thanks Ms. Page, I’ll keep it up.” You said dimly, passing her a coffee you had picked up on your way there. Then locking eyes with the blonde man she was speaking with as he stepped out of what you assumed was his office.

“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was working today or I would’ve brought you a coffee too.” You apologized, sending a tight lipped smile his way. Then you studied his face for a moment longer, he looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place from where.

“Please, call me Karen. And this is Foggy Nelson, one of this firm's law partners.” Karen explained with a smile, gesturing for Foggy to step up. You slowly shook his hand as he did, still racking your brain, wondering where you recognized him from.

“Nice to meet you, I’m y/n.” You said to him as your hand slipped out of his. He just nodded and smiled, his face displaying an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Foggy isn’t the only coworker you’ll have here, you’ll also meet his law partner Matt. Who’s not usually this late, what were he and you up to again last night Foggy?” Karen asked, knowing Matt was due in about an hour earlier to go over some depositions.

Upon hearing the name of Foggy’s partner in law, you froze. But you tried to calm yourself down, Matt was a common name and Hell’s Kitchen was a densely populated city. The chances of it being the same Matt you’d just hooked up with the night before we’re slim to none… right?

“Matt and I played some pool at Josie’s and then he, uh, took someone home.” Foggy said quietly, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact with you.

“God, another one night stand? Does Matt ever go home alone?” Karen asked with a chuckle, but your heart only continued to sink. Just then, the door to the office creaked open.

“And there’s the womanizer of the hour, late after another one night stand!” Foggy said loudly, allowing you to slowly turn towards the door as Foggy’s partner walked towards you.

“Y/n, this is Matt.” Karen said with an eye roll, watching as Matt extended his hand out towards you. But as soon as your gaze landed on those sleek red lenses, you knew. You just stayed frozen, eyes taking him all in.

Foggy sensed the tense energy radiating off of you, anyone in the gilding could’ve felt it. So he awkwardly piped up and said: “this is y/n, our new secretary.” and Matt clearly remembered you to some extent, or at least your name, because he froze as well at the mention of your name.

“Y/n?” He repeated back, his memories of last night running through his head on a loop. The only further confirmation Matt needed to know it was you was to hear your voice, but then again your perfume mixed with his sweat from his body that was right up against yours the night before should’ve been enough.

But you couldn’t reply, your mouth had gone dry and your head was starting to get dizzy. Your luck was irrefutably horrible, to sleep with some random guy you met at a bar and then find out the next day he’s your boss’s boss and you’ll be seeing him on the daily?

“As much as I appreciate this coffee you’ve brought me, why don’t I show you a great place closer to this office you can stop by from now on? Hmm?” Karen offered, trying to get you out of the office to confirm her suspicions as soon as possible. You turned back to her like a deer in headlights, nodding quickly and following her without the office without saying a word.

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//

As soon as the door shut behind Karen, Foggy turned to Matt with a look so deadly he could feel it. “Really? Really?!” Foggy deadpanned. “What?’ Matt asked innocently, trying to play coy. “Oh don't ‘what??’ me now Murdock. Why do you have to sleep with like half the women in New York? Huh?” Foggy questioned with incredulous shock.

“How was I supposed to know that she was the secretary Karen hired?!” Matt shot back with a playfully defensive tone. Only causing Foggy to scoff, turning back around and walking back into his office. Halting right before he closed the door. “Just, keep things professional with her from now on. . . okay?” Foggy asked, no, begged Matt. “What, you think I’ll try something again with our new secretary?” Matt asked with an offended tone. “Never stopped you with Karen. . .” Foggy mumbled barely above his breath. “I heard that!” Matt shouted.

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//

As soon as you officially exited the building you turned to Karen and said “Look Karen I’m really sorry, but there’s something you need to know about—”

“You slept with Matt, I know.” Karen deadpanned, almost admiring the shocked expression you gave her. “I wasn’t kidding about the coffee shop, walk with me.” She added on, walking away in one direction as you quickly followed.

“How did you know?” You asked.

“Oh please, the way you froze when he walked in? Or hearing the way Matt repeated your name as if he hadn’t been screaming it all night.” Karen said with a scoff. Her attitude shocked you a bit considering she seemed so mild-mannered when she interviewed you weeks ago.

“Sorry, sorry. That was a bit rash.” She added, probably catching onto your continually shocked state.

“It’s alright..” you said quietly, stepping into the coffee shop Karen had just walked into. “You seem frustrated, is this something Matt does often?” You asked. Karen turned her eyes away from the menu and glanced at you, a little surprised.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes; Matt has one night stands often. But that’s not why I’m frustrated. Matt and I, we have history. It was ages ago and I’m over it now but, I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Karen said, focusing her eyes back on the coffee menu.

“I don’t think I’m in any position to get hurt, if anything Matt might be a little upset since I left at 5am without saying anything or so much as leaving a note.” You said with a confident tone, considering you’d had your fair share of one-night stands before and have always walked away unscathed. “Besides things being a little awkward around the office for a couple weeks, whatever happened between Matt and I won’t affect my work— I promise.” You added reassuringly, the barista coming up and taking both of your orders.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Karen admitted, walking to the end of the coffee counter to wait for her order with you. “I hired you for a reason, and despite whatever conflict you may have with Matt after last night I’m sure you can be an adult and get over it. I'm confident you can be a professional about all this, but that’s not why I’m confronting you about this.” Karen furthered on, grabbing the stack of coffee and handing you a few cups.

“So… why are you confronting me about this?” You asked hesitantly, exiting the zip and making your way back to the office.

“Because, I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Karen repeated with an exasperated tone.

“And I already told you, I’m not in a position to get hurt by him right now.”

“Yeah, right now you’re not, and as long as you don’t pursue Matt any further, you won’t ever be.” Karen said, stopping outside the office building door with you.

“Who said I was planning on it?” You quipped back.

“I’m sure you weren’t, especially not now since he’s your boss.” Karen spoke.

“I thought you were my boss.” You spoke back.

“That’s not the point, but like I said Matt and I had something for a second ages ago and he has his ways.” Karen said, lowering her voice. “Matt is a complicated person, he’s not one for commitment.” She added.

“Again, who says I’m the commitment type either? I only hooked up with him, never asked for his number or out on a date.” You shot back, wondering where the hell she was going with this.

“Just, don’t get involved with Matt anymore okay? It’s workplace policy.” Karen joked, trying to lighten the mood. You smiled gently, agreeing. “Cross my heart.” You replied, drawing an X over your heart in a mocking manner. “Okay, good. Now let’s actually get to work.” Karen said happily, opening the door to the building for you.

Things were a bit awkward around your new workplace for the next few days, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. But you stayed curious as to why Karen was so insistent you don’t get involved with Matt, but you just chalked it up to her not wanting to see him with anyone else around the workplace due to their history.

Obviously the real reason Karen warns you is because she knows about Matt’s double life, and doesn’t want to see you get hurt like she did. Beyond her reasons, Karen can see you and Matt becoming more situated with each other in a professional sense. Things stay that way for a bit, and eventually you’re so completely comfortable with Matt and in the office that it's almost like you never slept together.

But Matt mistakes your comfort and relaxed manner around the office as a go-ahead, and starts flirting with you. This wasn’t unwelcome at first, and you even flirted back a little. But late one evening after Foggy and Karen had gone home, Matt made a move.

“Y/n, listen. I know your first day here was a bit inept because of our eventful night before, and I’m glad you seem to have gotten past the awkwardness. But I’ve gotten to know you better since you started here and well, I’d like to get to know you even more if you’d come out to dinner with me.” Matt said smoothly, leaning against the doorframe so eloquently. He looked good too, tie discarded hours ago, his shirt unbuttoned a few down from the collar and sleeves rolled above his elbows. But you couldn’t let that get to you, you knew you had to keep things professional.

“Matt, that night we had together was amazing, believe me. But you’re my boss’s boss now, and I’ve just started to be comfortable and friendly with you again. I don’t want to ruin that, can we just keep things professional?” you asked softly, lips turned downwards slightly.

Matt lost his confident energy, clearly not used to being turned down. “Yeah yeah, let’s just keep things professional.” He said solemnly, turning around and grabbing his coat. “You uh, get home safe yeah?” Matt spoke, opening the door to leave.

“Matt, wait please, let’s talk about—” you called out, but he was out the door as soon as he heard your protests.

“Goodnight, y/n.” Matt interrupted, shutting the door harshly behind him.

Initially you were shocked by his reaction, but anger soon followed. You sat in contemplation, considering your next move. You ultimately decided to pack up for the night and go home. But on your way home you passed by Josie’s and decided to take a trip down memory lane.

That trip didn’t keep you sober, but it did allow for you to forget about the rejection you had fed Matt. You stayed glued to the bar, ordering drinks after drink until Josie was cutting you off, saying it was time to go home. You grumbled out a half-assed apology and stumbled out of the bar, barely able to walk straight.

“Matt… Matt.” You croaked out, walking in the direction you believed was your apartment. You were so drunk you weren’t even sure which way was up.

“I don’t know who you’re mumbling about honey but I promise you I can show you a better time than he did.” Some guy shouted at you, crossing the street and walking your way.

“Fuck you, go away asshole.” You slurred, trying to push past him.

“Oh that’s exactly what I’m gonna do, come here darling.” The grotesque man said greedily, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you into a nearby alley.

Naturally, you cried out and started shouting at your attacker. “Help! Ah fuck! Get off of me you prick! Help!”

“It’s the dead of night, the only thing that’ll hear you now are the rats I’ll leave you with once I’m done.” He said darkly, pining you harshly against the wall as he tried to find the zipper of your skirt. You continued to scream out as your head swirled with nausea and adrenaline. You thrashed and kicked at him but he was too strong, overpowering you completely.

“Help!” You shouted out once more, your calls being heroically answered because the next thing you knew, you were no longer being held up against the wall of that back alley.

You slipped down the wall and collapsed down on your side, nearly passing out from the fear of it all. Your eyes catching a glimpse of the man who was harassing you moments before, now laying underneath the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen as he delivered blow after blow to him.

You slowly faded out of consciousness, seeing the masked devil beat your perpetrator to a pulp before watching him turn around and pull you into his arms.

“thank you…” you whispered weakly, the weight of everything you’d just experienced all coming down on you and sleep taking over your body.

Matt knew he couldn’t just leave you there in the alleyway, not with you passed out. Another creep could come along and do the same thing he just stopped the man before from doing. But he couldn’t risk being seen and taking you to a hospital either. “Shit…” Matt cursed to himself, gracefully picking you up and bringing you back to his place.

The harsh beeping of an alarm clock woke you up, and you groggily threw your hand over it. But it felt different, it wasn’t your alarm clock. In fact, this wasn’t even your bed. Did you have another one night stand last night? You asked yourself, thinking back to the night before. But your thoughts were interrupted as someone walked in and rushed to turn off the alarm clock.

“Sorry, I should’ve remembered to turn it off.” He apologized, stepping back once he’d silenced the alarm. You turned your eyes toward the familiar voice and adjusted your gaze. “Matt?” You called out.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He confirmed, keeping the distance he created.

“What are you, why am I here? Are these your clothes? Oh god, we didn’t… again, did we?” You sputtered out, confusion surging through you.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” Matt said with a calming tone, stepping forward back to you and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Yes, those are my clothes, yours are in the wash. We didn’t… do anything last night.” Matt explained.

“Then why am I here?” You asked, slowly sitting up in Matt’s bed.

“Last night you uh…” Matt started, trying to figure out what bullshit story he wanted to feed you.

“Oh my god.” You said just barely below your breath, the events of the previous night all coming back to you. “You… you’re uh,” you said shakily, looking up and meeting Matt’s sightless gaze. “Oh my god.” You repeated. “You’re him, you’re daredevil.” Matt didn’t verbally confirm your suspicions, but his lack of response was all the confirmation you needed.

“You, you saved me.” You realized, the tone of your voice became softer as you announced it. “You saved me.” You repeated. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Matt said with a smile. “You’re not mad?”

“No, if anything this explains why Karen warned me about you.” You said with a chuckle.

“Karen warned you about me?” Matt asked incredulously.

“Yeah she uh, back on my first day when Karen realized we had just hooked up, she warned me to not involve myself with you anymore. She told me you were complicated, I’m guessing this is what she meant.” You elaborated, looking back on your first day at Nelson and Murdock.

“Complicated huh?” Matt cracked.

“Yup, at first I thought it was because of her past with you. Now I understand why.” You said cheekily, wondering how you couldn’t see it before. The mysterious bruises and cuts Matt always showed up with, his consistently exhausted state, Karen and Foggy always making excuses for him. It was all clear now. But you weren’t mad, how could you be mad when Matt just saved you the night before?

“Well I must admit I’m relieved to hear that you aren’t upset, you’re handling the news better than Karen or especially Foggy did, that’s for sure.” Matt said with a relieved laugh, standing up from his place beside you on the bed.

“Wait uh, don’t go.” You said, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up. “Is dinner still on the table, from your offer last night? Or maybe breakfast now?” You asked sheepishly, inching closer to Matt.

“And what if I said I wanted to keep things professional with you, sweetheart?” Matt asked smoothly, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

“Hmm, then I’d quit.” You said my teasingly, wrapping your arms around Matt’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Matt’s lips moved eagerly against yours as he gently nudged you backwards towards his bed. As the backs of your legs met the bed and you fell backwards, you parted your lips from Matt.

“Wait, work, we have to call off.” You said hastily, reaching down to pull off the sweater Matt put you in. “Already called us out darling.” Matt said with a smirk, helping you to remove your shirt before lowering himself to mark up your neck.

“Oh my god, you knew! You knew I’d– ah, I’d like you more for it, for being daredevil.” You said, a slight hitch in your voice as Matt began to slip off your pants.

“Well like Karen warned you, I have my ways.” He said cheekily, discarding the pants he let you borrow somewhere around his room.

“You heard that?!” You squeaked, helping Matt to remove his own shirt.

“Sweetheart, I hear everything. Including the way your heart is picking up right now from the excitement of being underneath me.” Matt said cockily, slipping his hand between your legs and resting a finger on your entrance. “I can also smell how wet you are right now, all for me.” He added, kissing you sweetly before slipping his finger inside and curling at a delicious angle, causing you to moan out as Matt sealed your noises with a kiss.

“Oh Matt, please.” You whined as he resumed his assault on your neck as he continued curling his finger deep inside of you. “Please what darling? Use your words.” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Matt added another finger into the mix, now scissoring then inside of your soaked heat. Admiring how his actions left you at a loss for words.

“Please… please ah!” You cried out, trying to tell Matt what you wanted before he pressed his thumb to your clit and began rubbing quick circles. You hear Matt chuckle lowly at your response, only edging you on further. That tight coil building in your core felt like it was moments away from snapping. “Matt, Matt I’m gonna—”

“Not yet you’re not.” Matt said greedily, removing his fingers all at once and moving away as he cut you off. You let out a frustrated sigh, looking at Matt who was now removing his shirt. A sight to behold, really. Then your eyes drifted lower as Matt removed his pants and boxers along with them, his cock springing free and standing tall. You swallow nervously, nearly forgetting how much you had to take when you hooked up with Matt all those months ago.

“Aww, don’t get nervous on me now darling. You did so well last time.” Matt cooed, reassuming his place over you as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Please, just fuck me Matty.” You begged, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Gladly.” Matt spoke as he pushed himself inside of your soaked entrance, stilling as to give you a moment to readjust to his size. As soon as bottomed out, you knew things were going to be different this time. This time Matt already knew every inch of your body and how to make you see stars.

“I almost forgot how tight and perfect your pussy is.” Matt said huskily, teeth running I’ve the shell of your ear as he pulled out and thirst back into you in one languid motion. Your back arched as his cock brushed up against that perfect spot inside you. Matt was relishing in the palpitations your heart produced at his praise. He’d have to keep it up.

Once Matt was that deep inside you, all coherent thoughts and your abilities to speak left. Only moans and whines left your mouth as Matt picked up to a nearly brutal pace thrusting inside of you. Your hands lowered from their grasp around Matt’s neck and started to rake up and down his back, leaving red marks in their wake.

“Such a good girl, all for me.” Matt said through gritted teeth, slamming into you over and over again. The scent of your bodies sweat mixing floating in the air, the sound of skin slapping together, and Matt’s praises in your ear, it was all so pleasurable and even you could hear your heart doing somersaults for Matt. In response Matt brought one hand, still bloody around the knuckles, and wrapped it snugly around your neck. It didn’t take long for that coil in your stomach to build back up completely after that. So when he brought his other hand down to your clit and began rubbing delicious circles, you were done for.

“Matt! I’m, I’m c—” you cried out, but Matt cut you off. “I know baby, go ahead. Cum for me.” Matt said sweetly, keeping his pace as you began to fall apart completely on his cock. The pulsating of your slick heat allowed for Matt to not be far behind you, giving one final thrust as he stilled again, emptying himself deep inside of you. You could feel white hot streaks paint your insides as Matt gave a few more pumps of his softening cock inside of you, making sure you were filled to the brim with his cum.

Relief washed over you as you caught your breath post-orgasm, Matt pulling out and collapsing beside you; leaving a somewhat empty feeling as you began to feel his cum leaking of your still throbbing cunt. But unlike last time, Matt knew you, he cared for you. So he pulled you close and held you tight.

“Thank you darling.” Matt said softly into your ear, allowing a smile to adorn your face as you drifted off to sleep in Matt’s arms.

—

A/N

On g-d, every time I worry that I’ve run out of story ideas I look at one little picture or hear some stupid little thing and I’m writing for hours. Anyways, long but good fic; let me know what you thought!

Much Love,

—Skyler

185 notes · View notes

neverforpickles · 3 years ago

Text

Works that I personally adore and have read more than once. Works that felt like a love letter in different stages of my life. I am recommending them to you. I hope you’ll understand why when you read them.

7 Up

|cherrystreet|Explicit|51K

“Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse.”

A Love This Strong

|rainbowsandgucci|M|10K

No one, fell in love, because that’s how They wanted it. That’s just how it was, and that’s how They wanted it to stay, and it did. Until Harry and Louis came along, and, of course, fell in love.

Dance Like Waves Along the Wind

|maroonmoonlouis|E | 17K

“What are you doing to me, my liege?” the God of the Sea murmured as he slid an arm around Louis’s slender waist.

Louis’s breath stuttered and his grip on the ruby red apple tightened just as Harry’s did around his body.

“I am hardly your liege, in this relationship,” he whispered out, tilting his head up to gaze at Harry’s imperceptibly dark eyes.

“No?” Harry inquired. “Am I not at the mercy to follow your every order? To cater to your every whim?”

Louis’s lips parted as he swallowed thickly, Harry’s eyes tracing his bobbing Adam’s apple intently.

“Are you?” were the only words he could get out in response before Harry was dipping down to press a heated kiss against his lips.

Or a Greek Mythology AU where Louis is Adonis and Harry is Poseidon. Louis would really like to move on with his everyday life without everyone on Mt. Olympus talking about his ex, who just happens to be the God of the Sea.”

The Green Room

| JasTheLarrie | M | 112K|

“For the last time, go away! This is fucking harassment, you know that? I’m well within my rights to call the cops.” Louis wished he could have hidden the tremor in his voice. He knew that it was thick with emotion. He was frustrated, angry, and beyond devastated.

“Uh…”

That was definitely not his ex's voice. Louis froze. Who had he just sworn at?AKALouis has just been through a bad break-up and accidentally verbally assaults unsuspecting flower delivery man Harry.

AKA“Louis and the Incredibly Compassionate and Also Really Handsome Florist”

Compass to my Soul

| LadyLondonderry|Teen|31K

“Harry Styles, alpha, is 1/4 of the perfect pack, and 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time touring the world with his best friends and family.Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.”

sun rise in your eyes

| loubellies | E | 21K

“Prompt 175: AU where Harry is a human prince that Louis, the fairy prince, has always admired from afar. One day, Harry notices Louis and Louis offers him some berries. Harry, forgetting the age old rule that you shouldn’t take food from fairies, eats the snack and is immediately shrunken to Louis’s fairy size and is now subject to live in his world while trying to figure out a way to return to his human form.”

happier, prettier

| @outropeace | E | 40K|

“It wasn't that Harry hated Louis Tomlinson. He was just a Broadway kid who got insanely famous thanks to some silly videos on an even sillier app, got a label contract, forgot about his roots and now he was pretending to be a pop star. He didn't even mind that everyone was actually buying his act of being sweeter than honey. It was that Harry knew that game too well — he was inside it after all — he knew how fake people could get and how manipulative they actually were.

So no, it wasn’t that he didn’t like Louis, it was that he reminded him of everything he didn’t like in a person. Louis reminded him a bit too much of... her.

Or, they were supposed to hate each other, they were supposed to do their job. At least they got one of these things right.

Red Camilla

| lthsbluegreener | teen | 25K

“Dainty hands work effortlessly, stitching together a cotton dress. The most demanded tailor in Weloric, an omega that is feared whose past is a thousand flames setting him ablaze and charring his inner workings meets an alpha that earns fear from the Welorians. Will he be able to smother the flames before they scorch the delicate being?

All the kids at school

| LikeYouAreInLove | NR | 4K

“Are you sure that you two aren’t dating?”

Louis forces his gaze away from Harry’s scrunched face and looks to Nick, already rolling his eyes, “Yes, Nicholas, we’re sure. There are these neat things called 'friends', perhaps you’ve heard of them, and me and Harry are the best kind and best kinds of friends don’t screw each other on the sly. ”

Or, Getting voted 'School's Hottest Couple' when they aren't actually a couple complicates things a bit.

when we made love, you used to cry

|ExiledQueenCatalog|GA| 4K

“Harry and Louis are on a break, when Harry gets a call from the studio of the who will be a millionaire asking him to help Louis with his million-pound-question. or Louis goes to the who will be a millionaire show to win back Harry

plot twists - i didn’t meant it

|sunflower_lwt(o_a)|GA|3.7K

“Louis rants about shit sofas and bad music taste and rude hipsters at a house party. Harry is the host. Written for the Secret Larry Valentine exchange - February 2021”

We Are Inevitable

|mmargarita | E | 16K

“What’s the second flaw?”“The second inevitable flaw in your plan is:” Louis stood straight and walked towards Harry, grabbing his chin. Harry’s breath hitched. “Us.” Louis smiled. “We’re inevitable, baby. We’re soulmates, and we both know it. You just need to come back to me.”

Lunar Waltz

|outropeace| E | 56K

“You want me to seduce an alpha,” Louis hissed.

“I want you to marry an alpha. It’s the only way I could ever get back on my feet. You didn’t think a few dances at a ball would do anything to Alastair’s reputation or mine...”

“And what if Alastair comes back? Have you thought about him in all of this? You’re going to marry him to an alpha he doesn’t even know!”

“Oh he does know him, in fact... he’d be ecstatic to know he got to marry him.”

Louis’ blood ran cold, already suspecting who was the alpha the earl was talking about.

“Who is he?” he asked anyways, hating how fragile and almost scared his voice sounded.

“Lord Harry Styles.”

Louis' stomach dropped, the words came smelling like danger, sending a bolt of fear down his spine, the Earl wanted Louis to seduce The Duke of Death.

Or Louis has to replace his (missing) twin brother and marry one of the most dangerous alphas of the kingdom.”

The Devil In My Brain

|princesshalo|E |74K

“Jesus Christ!” Louis yells as he jumps back in reaction to Harry once again popping up out of nowhere.

Harry doesn’t even flinch.

“Quite the opposite.” He jokes, holding out one of the drinks for Louis to take. A freshly sizzling vodka Red Bull; his favorite.

Louis’s initial reaction is the thought you remembered.

His rational brain says, “No thanks.”

“Louis.” Harry says it like a concerned parent, the tone of it matching the way his mum used to say Boo Bear, you have to eat your vegetables to grow up big and strong, and that ignites something feral within him.

“Satan.” He counters, same tone coupled with a glare and a pair of arms crossed over his chest.

- Louis used to be good friends with Harry, until he woke up alone and immortal with no one to blame but The Devil himself.”

Our Lives, Non-Fiction

| @indiaalphawhiskey | E | 113K

“Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong?

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.”

Moi Je Crois Aux Histories

|nogunsmanyroses |Teen | 12K

“This stranger is breaking every unspoken rule of society, and Harry has no idea how to respond to it. It’s not that he doesn’t like people, it’s just that he doesn’t feel too much for small talk. For any talk, actually. His mom says it's because he overthinks every word he wants to say, and while she might have a point there, he’s adamant to ignore this with every twenty-three years old bone in his body.

“I’m … Harry.” There. Look at him being social and engaging in conversations.

“Well Harry,” Louis says as he fully turns back towards him. He leans back against the wall that separates the sidewalk from the water of the river, one leg crossed over the other. He’s the picture of soft comfortableness with his hood pulled over his head and brown strands of hair peeking out in every direction. “Do you want to go somewhere else? Since …,” he finishes his sentence by waving aimlessly in the direction of the Tower.

Or: the race that ended with a broken elbow fic that no one asked for.”

there’s nothing to be afraid of

| louishun | E | 23K

“Louis. He's perfect, and why hadn’t Harry executed this plan earlier? This is far preferable to the messes he’s had before. He’ll dote on Louis, spoil him, and there will be no worry that Louis will steal his secrets, leave him—do any of the disagreeable things he’s had to worry about previously from other lovers. Louis will be his, trained exactly to Harry’s preferences, and he will be the better for it. Once Louis learns to listen, he can have anything he wants—anything within Harry’s reach... and, as the mob boss who all-but rules England, that’s a considerable reach indeed.

But, first, Louis has to learn.”

spinning in my highest heels, love

|loulicate |E | 2K

“Harry fucks Louis because that's how it works - confirmed by Bene :D”

We’re What’s Right In This World

|BriaMaria | E | 48K

“Why did you talk like that in Brighton? If you weren’t planning on ever telling me?” Louis asked.

“Is it because you think you’re going to die?”“It’s war, Lou,” Harry said finally. The words were a knife slipped between his ribs. Everything hurt and he was bleeding. He shifted up, his palms cradling Harry’s jaw, his lips against his boy’s. Not kissing, just resting there, so Louis could feel him. “Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Harry’s hands smoothed down the sides of Louis’ body. “You know I can’t do that. I’ll never lie to you.”

“Promise me. We’re going to have our cottage. And our dogs. And our breakfast in the garden where nothing grows because of the wind from the sea. Promise me.”

“I won’t.” Stubborn as always, his boy. “I’ll promise you, I’ll love you all my life. I’ll promise you, you’ll never leave my thoughts. I’ll promise you, you’re my forever and my always. But promising you something I can’t cheapens the things I can.”

-Or the World War II AU where Harry goes off to fight and all Louis wants to do is be the boy who brings him home.”

dirty laundry looks good on you

|tomlinvelvet | E | 50K |

“When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

OR; the utility room is a great place to fall in love. ”

The Lost Art of Breeding and (Mis) Behaviour

| @indiaalphawhiskey | E | 13K

“Strip, slave.” His voice was rough – stern, as a proper Master’s voice should be. Harry couldn’t help but feel pleased. “I could have had five of your kind for your price. Best make sure I’ve not been cheated.”

-- Or, Harry learns a thing or two about fate and faith.”

Gloria Regali

| @traviscrux |NR | 100K

“I am very proud of you," Louis admitted, his eyes displaying his conviction, "you are very brave and ridiculously determined."

Harry looked at him, as he shook his head, reaching out to his hand, he held it, "Trust me, it is not enough."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because if it was, you would have been married to me."

Or Louis shouldn't have burnt his soulmark without telling his soulmate.”

Shadows Come With The Pain …

|hlftanna| E | 51K

“Thanks, Ni, I guess I needed to hear that,” Harry sighed and wrapped his own arms around Niall and squeezed him tightly not caring if Liam would be mad. He missed Niall so much.

“Does it really come as a surprise to you that I’m right? Shaking my head, Haz. You should know me better,” the brunette teased.Harry giggled again.

“You know Hazza, you really are so different to all the other alphas out there. You’re soft, caring, cuddly and sweet and those damn dimples. So freaking pretty, it’s almost annoying. I would hate you if you weren’t my best friend. You’d really be a brilliant omega. Nature really did a number here,” Niall mumbled. It was his turn to smash his nose into Harry’s neck and Harry was extremely thankful for that because he wasn’t sure he had his facial expression in check at all.

Or a Band AU in which Harry isn't allowed to be who he really is and the North American Tour might bring some unexpected truths into the web of lies and also a bit of heat that has very little to do with the summer in the US.”

Sigh Softly

|aalexandravictoriaa|GA|800

It was an unconventional nest, to say the least. Quite inconvenient too, not that Louis would ever dare admit that. The fact that his omega was nesting could only mean that he was pregnant and Louis’ chest rumbled at the mere thought. Harry stirred from his perch, blinking his eyes open at the sound of his growling alpha. Louis shushed him immediately and tucked him back into the safety of his nest. Louis just so happened to make up the majority of said nest.

They're Creepy and They're Kooky

|crack_rock |GA | 3K

Her dad turns back to the black cauldron sitting on the stove with a quiet smile on his face. He’s such an ass. A severed hand starts stirring it for him while he turns to chop cilantro. She changes her mind, it’s most likely dinner. “You know, while I was shopping for bibles for the fire-pit outside,” Jesus Wednesday thinks, no pun intended, “I ran into Timmy’s mother, she seems very nice.” Or, the one where the Addams family is actually the Styles family. An ongoing series.

Only You Can Be My Alpha| @wubwubnparmaham | M |196K

In a world where one was either an Alpha or an Omega wolf, Louis found himself in a body that could be neither. Born an Omega without the expected characteristics of one, he felt broken, choosing to live as Alpha a lifestyle as he could. Harboring a serious lack of respect for Alphas and their authority complexes, Louis managed to get himself banished from his home, forced to wander the unforgiving woods for years, facing the elements and fighting enemy rogues each time they arose. Unbeknownst to Louis, in a tribe to the southwest of his home, there lived a dysfunctional Alpha, the orphaned pack leader Harry, who had never felt satisfied enough with anyone to settle down and continue his royal line. Living their lives apart thus far, the both of them assumed that they might be alone forever, making the best of things despite this even though it hurt. Chance, luck, or maybe fate brings Louis to this tribe when he’d least expected to receive kindness and shelter from a stranger, and when he arrives, something in his soul pulls him to Harry like a raging river current. The two don’t get off to a good start, but everyone around them can sense the chemistry—and in time they do too.

Waiting For Daylight|@dinosaursmate|E|12K

“The number you have dialled has not been recognised. Please check and try again.”Louis made his way into the kitchen and sighed, throwing his phone down onto the table and frowning at it.

“What’s the matter, honey?” his mum asked.

“I… I don’t know. My phone seems to have erased every last trace of Harry.

“Ooh, who’s Harry?” she cooed. “A boy?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Harry, Mum. Styles. From number thirty-eight.”

“Oh, sweetheart. The Waynes live at number thirty-eight. Shall I pour you some tea?” - Louis wakes up to find that his best friend has never existed. In a quest to find him, Louis is sent to several parallel universes. He can't seem to find his own Harry, and he doesn't understand why every alternate Harry wants to kiss him.

I didn't wanna fall

|defenceless|GA|13K|

'Flowers bloomed when he walked. Angels sang when he talked.' I heard this line way back once in the radio and the first thing that came to my mind was you."

Harry lends his coat to Louis. When Louis is home, he realizes he still has Harry’s coat and finds Harry’s iPod. Out of curiosity, Louis looks through Harry’s music and finds a playlist titled with his name.

If I had no love to give

|@kingsofeverything |E| 30K

Small town restaurateur Louis Tomlinson needs someone competent to work in his kitchen.

Chef Harry Styles needs a job.

let me carry your weight |@soldouthaz |E |28K

louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

For As Long As I Can Remember

|@greenfeelings |E|128K

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

Flightless Bird | @audreyhheart |E|97k

AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?

gathered on wings

|Brooklyn_Babylon/@twopoppies|E|32k

As Harry lay by Louis’ side, covered in sweat and come, he knew he should feel ugly, messy, ruined, like the life he’d left behind. But something about the way Louis looked at him, the way he stared at him with want and awe, made Harry wonder if he’d ever feel this beautiful again.

Harry rolled his eyes at himself for his momentary romantic dreaminess. As good as this was, he knew it was nothing more than sex. He literally couldn’t afford to fall for just anyone, no matter how fit they were.

What Harry Styles wanted was to be taken seriously as an artist. What he needed was a new sugar daddy to pave the way. Louis Tomlinson is an artist who isn’t what Harry is looking for. Somehow he still manages to turn Harry's world upside down.

billow and breeze (island and seas)

|@pleasing-louis|E|102K

“It was bright; that was the first thing Louis could recall. With a groan, he winced at the throbbing behind the sockets of his eyes and rubbed his temples in an effort to soothe the pain. Maybe he really did hit his head when he took his tumble. The omega squinted as he looked at the surrounding rolling hills and fog hanging over the countryside. As strange as it was, the world felt different, though it looked practically the same.

Disoriented and confused, Louis padded through the moss and listened for his husband. “Liam?” he croaked shakily.Nothing but a symphony of woodland creatures met his ears. His footsteps were muted by mossy green grass beneath his feet and soil fragrant as he neared the crest of the hill. At the top, he froze, lips parted in horror and eyes widening at the expanse of empty farmland—not a soul in sight. It had only been less than ten minutes prior that he could see Inverness from the crest, but now there was nothing.

“Impossible,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief—his mind not quite able to make sense of it...

Or the Outlander AU where Louis wakes[…]”

Paradise

| @traviscrux | NR | 66K

“When he reached him, Liam was taken back at what he witnessed. "What is happening to him?!" Harry asked, relinquishing his anger and moving towards the beta.

Leering at Harry, "He is dropping."

"I thought only omegas dropped." Harry asked confused.

"Exactly! Only omegas do!" Liam clarified, letting the actuality of the situation dawn upon the Emperor.

Alpha Emperor Harry Styles of the province of Imperium had conquered more than half the country of Cynthia in his six years reign but all of this had even occurred due to the unwavering loyalty and firm presence of Louis Tomlinson who was assuredly a beta until he wasn't.”

Smells Like Omega Spirit

| @lululawrence | NR | 11K

Louis is an omega doing a test run on neutralizers for a class project. Every time he talks to Harry he smells completely different.

Harry is an alpha who can't figure out if he's going crazy or his sense of smell is broken, but all he wants to figure out what Louis' real scent is.

Somehow they figure it out.

you fit me better

| docklands / @hershelsue |E|3.8K

Louis moves back to Cheshire with no prospects and lacking a laundry machine for his apartment. At the laundromat, he meets Harry, a meddlesome alpha who smells divinely enough to ease his anxiety. When Louis goes back home, he finds out he switched clothing with Harry, meaning he needs to meet him again to give it back.

love’s a risk

| @solitudeandchaos |E| 26K

Harry made life clearer, he made Louis happy, he cancelled out the complications and made Louis feel secure. Louis hadn’t ever had that and he was sure he didn't want to lose it.He just wasn’t sure how to keep it.

or harry and louis don't really know each other but end up married while in on holiday in Monte Carlo

Aphrodisiac

| @aimmyarrowshigh | E | 4k

“The day he made roasted asparagus tips wrapped in Serrano ham with lemon aïoli, Louis knew: Harry Styles was trying to seduce him.”

a whole world of beautiful | l.s

| starsofhazel | NR | 11K

“Drafting words on blank paper like stars on a night sky. Placing and connecting them into constellations that encapsulate infinities and shape galaxies of paragraphs into their own universe.

The writer is the magician. The magician that forms worlds. The magician that manipulates words. The magician that has the power to take and twist and transform the mind. The magician that has the magic to make something out of nothing.

The writer is the dreamer. The dreamer that believes in the lost, the broken, the hurt, the beautiful.

But most of all, the writer is the one that sees us. Understands us. Believes us. Speaks for us. Maybe even is us. Perhaps even more us than we are.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉�� ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

In which Louis pours his heart into letters that he leaves in books, and Harry falls in love with the letters that he finds in books.”

From the Start

| @allwaswell16 |E | 32K

Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

tarnish but so grand

|tilthesundies|E| 32K

Louis hides in places. Harry always finds him.

Liberte

| @harryanthus-annuus |M | 64K

AU. 1647. “Pretending you don’t have a heart is not the best way to not get it broken. It’s just the easiest.”

Or the pirate AU I always wanted to write

Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight

|@alivingfire |E| 110K

Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they're both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.

Louis has been alive since life was a mere concept; he watched the summoning of Man into existence, he was there when Eve took the apple. He’s seen seas break the world into separate pieces, he’s watched empires crumble into dust. He’s seen wildfire consume cities, he’s seen the world painted white with snow. He has known the most beautiful humans to walk the planet, he has watched the most powerful mortals gather their riches and influence around them and then die just like the poorest, weakest humans do. He’s met humans whose motives defy explanation, people who use their lives as battering rams, as tools, as weapons, as chess pieces.

None of that stopped Louis in his tracks.

But Harry did.

Gentle Rogue

|@juliusschmidt |E|15K

“Well?” Tommo prompts. “What the hell are you doing aboard my ship?”

Harry grins, “I’m here to plunder your booty.”

[Or Harry bets Nick a hundred pounds he can get Louis to sleep with him. He wins the wager and a thorough fucking.]

The Lion Man |iwillpaintasongforlou|E|12k

Louis is a vampire who loves tattoos and piercings as much as he loves a good feed. Harry is a biology student who gets dragged to a vampire bar (really, of all places) by his friends and happens to have blood that tastes like maraschino cherries. They're both a bit addicted and they're neither a bit ashamed.

Angels and Demons

| twerkinlarry |M | 70k

It’s a time where both Angels and Demons walked on earth, doing their work unbeknownst to humans. They look like normal humans, act like normal humans, interact such as, but they have very specific jobs not at all human like. Angels are here to guard, protect, and guide people into the right path. Demons are here to do just the opposite; mislead, give into poor judgment, throw into harm’s way, wreak havoc in general. Angels and Demons are given few guidelines other than their general rules, however there is one rule never to be broken; do not interact with the other. Under no circumstance should an Angel ever interact with a Demon, nor a Demon with an Angel, and that’s all.

My Wicked Flaws

|AngelicDemonMonster |M|31K

Struggling for acceptance in a world of constantly abused and raped omegas, Louis' only choice is to hide who he is. The only people who know are his sisters, his best friend and the man who makes his life a living hell, his father. Through a battle to find out who he truly is, while protecting his sisters and himself, Louis has to journey through love and loss in hopes of a better life than the hell he currently resides in.

All of My Intentions Were True

|onewasturning | Teen | 8K

There’s a hope, long taken for granted; as long as they’re together, everything would be okay.

Orphans AU. Growing up, Harry's and Louis' worlds revolve around each other. But growing up is more than just leaving home and getting jobs, and reality can be cruel.

Some things change, but others never will.

Won’t See It Coming …

| whoknows |E|12K

“Tell me that this is a fake,” Peter says, slapping a handful of papers against Louis’ chest. He says something else, something loud and demanding, barely even pausing for a breath, but Louis doesn’t hear it. All he hears is the sound of his own breathing, the sound of his own heartbeat.

Because this - this looks like a marriage certificate.

For a minute, everything stills, quiets. Louis drags his eyes up, meets Harry’s gaze, fixed on him.

Then the noise is back, shouting voices clamoring to be heard over each other, and Harry is still staring at him.

The ring that Louis hadn’t been able to stop noticing in the loo weighs heavily on his hand. His left hand.

more than just a dream

|orphan_account |GA | 4.9K

Harry and Louis ride the bus together, and they share a song a day.

"He makes to sit in his usual seat, but as soon as he goes to scuttle down the aisle, a hand is present around his wrist, Louis looking up at him with those bright eyes, and he pats the seat next to him. Harry glances down, and he decides to sit because Louis is cute, and he liked The Neighbourhood, and he’s got a nice smile that Harry doesn’t really mind looking at."

just a dream

| BriaMaria | M | 4.6K

“Won’t you join me?” The voice was soft, more melody than anything else. It wrapped around Louis, silken bands that tugged at his arms, at his chest.

He didn’t step out of the shadows. “No.”

The man in the pond smiled, sad and sweet and knowing, and then sunk beneath the water in the next heartbeat. The butterflies that had adorned his chest like jewelry, that had tangled in his dark curls, fluttered away.

Or the one where Louis is the king of the forest, Harry is friends with butterflies and a war is brewing on the horizon.

Two different versions …

|orphan_account | NR| 11.5K

Harry is a demon, captured by hunters. but not just any hunters. Angels. Louis is his angel.

If I Loved You Less

| @allwaswell16 | E |36K

Beautiful omega Louis Tomlinson is set to make his come out in London society and determined to find a mate in his first Season. With the help and protection of his oldest friend, Lord Niall Mendes, he takes Society by storm.

Being a wealthy and titled alpha means Lord Harry Styles has grown used to avoiding unmated omegas...until now. This Season he finds himself at every Society event just for a chance to speak with the omega with the flashing blue eyes.

Louis has the aristocracy at his feet and all the suitors he could hope for, but his secrets may ruin his chance at a love match.

I Promise

| @creamcoffeelou |Teen | 3.5K

Harry has a promise to keep and a pair of arms to go home to.

[Loosely based on the drowning scene from Dunkirk's trailer. ]

Chases the Moon Like Fire

| louisfreckles |Teen | 11K

"As long as you’d let me love you, I’ll have the summer paradise I’ve always dreamt of, right here with me.”

Harry smiled, seeming to accept whatever offer was hidden among Louis’ words. “As long as I can keep you, I won’t have to go too far just to find a place where I belong. And after that, you’ll always be my home, even from afar.”

Or, the one where Louis is a rich socialite in the UK post-WWI, who is stressed and tired of his demanding life. He chooses to go missing, leaving everyone back home to speculate whether he died or has been kidnapped, and sets sail across the oceans, arriving in Auckland, New Zealand, in search of summertime and freedom. What he doesn't look for but finds anyway, is a boy who seems reluctant to let him in, but ends up changing all of Louis' plans.

Fugue

| iwillpaintasongforlou | E | 16.4K

Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

I’m In Trouble Deep

|Atlll,o_a,s4j,sc |M| 33K

Louis has been nothing but clear with Harry from day one. “Don’t fall for me,” he said, eyes bright and dancing, fingers in Harry’s belt loops tugging him forward even as his words pushed him away. “I’m not your happily ever after.”

All I want

| quitefinishedlove |E|19K

“Remember this one film we watched two days ago? ‘Thirty, flirty and thriving’, that's you Lou. Not ancient, wheezing and dying, come off it.”

“Says my 18 year old boyfriend, fine then.”

“Your capabilities are still hitting the market, old man. Business and pleasure wise.” He punctuates each word slyly with sloppy nibbles on Louis’ skin, but not too playful to leave marks.

“With all that feisty little attitude you’re generating, you’re aware your bum is leaking though?”

They both laugh when they feel the trickling come passing Louis’ thighs from Harry’s twitching hole. He feels Louis pulling out five minutes later as they both settle in side by side.

(or the one where Harry gets pregnant at 18, without his alpha’s knowledge)

Three French Hems

|100percentsassy, g_a|M|20k

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

all the lights are full of colour

|infinitelymint | E |26.7K

| So, fast-forwarding eight years from the day Harry met Louis, he is now a twenty-seven year old owner of one of the most up-and-coming eating establishments on the London restaurant scene, father of two wonderful boys and… separated from his husband. Now, that last part definitely was never a part of the original plan.

Or, Harry and Louis are separated, but for the sake of their two sons, they choose to spend Christmas together. It may just lead to a Christmas miracle.

Hands Clasped Tight

|afirethatcannotdie| E|44.3K

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asks.

“This, my friends, is a ‘proof’ Instagram account, run by your students,” Liam announces.

“It’s got all this stuff about how the two of you are together,” Niall adds.

“I heard about that,” says one of the math teachers. “Confiscated a kid’s phone today when they were looking at it. I have to say, the evidence that you’re dating is pretty damning.”

“Really,” Louis says dryly. “Do you think being married for three years might have something to do with it?”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

If You Could See Him Like I Do

|BornOnABeach| Teen | 7K

Harry was used to hearing it.

"Who's that?"

"The new kid Harry. Don't go after him."

"Why? Ooh, is he a bad boy?"

"No, but his boyfriend is."

The gossip came from everyone. But the people who talked didn't know Louis like Harry knew Louis. People saw Louis as dangerous, rebellious. And in a way, Louis was those things. But not towards Harry. Never towards Harry.

Something Great

|infinitelymint |E | 31K

“In which a coincidence, instagram, a party, a piano and a planned coming out all come together to make two people fall in love. As it happens, it turns out to be a rather effective combination.

or, Louis is a student and Harry is the mega-famous singer that happens to post a photo with Louis in the background. Together they kind of break the internet.”

The Last Great American Dynasty

| @traviscrux | Teen | - series -

I. Conozco La Vida |4.7K|

"I have a son," he declared, there was a thinly veiled layer of hesitation.

Harry was unaware in the direction which this conversation was heading but chose to stare at the man instead.

"He is an Omega," he dropped the pivotal piece of information.

Harry's attention was hooked now.

"He has been raised in an Omega convent all his life, he hasn't been in the presence of any Alpha who isn't his immediate family."

"I am still waiting for you to make a point."

"You could take him as an Omega."

Harry did not react, his face remaining perfectly free of betrayal of any sort of emotion and leaned back upon his chair, his leg crossed upon his knee. "You are selling your son to me?"

II. El Comienzo De Una Vida |2.7K|

After being bartered to Harry to save his kingdom, Louis is on his way to the Alpha's homeland and he would very much like him to stop being so cautious and just kiss him, god damn it!

III. Entiendo La Vida |7.6K|

"You are hesitating, it's not that you do not want to reveal the subject to me but," Harry placed his observations, "you are fearful of my reaction."

Louis turned his gaze away and looked at the man's chest instead and began playing with the strings that tied the tunic around him, "You can say no and I know it sounds silly but-"

Harry lifted his chin and gazed at him with understanding, "Nothing you say is silly."

"I was wondering if I could be trained to shift into my wolf form," Louis let out, his eyes hopeful, "I know it may be unheard of but I was wondering if it is possible."

let your damage, damage me

| @outropeace | E | 57.K

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared.

Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate.

‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand.

“Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

Enshire

| HoPotato| Teen | 72.3K

“(Fictional a/b/o Elizabethan era-ish au)

Being an omega and the fifth in line for the title, the young lord of Chambriath was forced to believe that being wedded to the man of his father's choice and bearing his children was the only purpose of Harry's existence. It doesn't surprise him when his father, the Duke of Chambriath, announces his betrothal to the alpha Prince of Enshire, William II. Without a word of protest, Harry agrees to the arrangement, too polite to argue or rage his father with a question. He accepts his faith, allowing his life to be handed to a man he is completely unknown to.”

My English Love Affair

| @isthatyoularry | E |19K

The thing about sleeping with a member of a famous indie band is that the inevitability of having a song written about you is most likely a hundred percent. The second thing is that in the end, nobody's supposed to find out it's about you.

The one where Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.

Welcome Back From The Friend Zone

| @2tiedships2 |M | 32.3K

“As we are both aware,” Louis began. “You are continuously complaining about not having the kitchen appliances needed when you want to make some of those random recipes you find online. And your precious waffle maker died recently.”

“Where are you going with this, Lou?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I want to help you out, Haz.”

Louis should have thought this through better. Maybe made a proper speech before presenting the idea to his best friend.

“Are you going to tell me the bad idea on how you plan to help me out?”

Niall snickered from where he was seated but thankfully didn’t say anything.

“We need to pretend we’re getting married and send out announcements to rich people. Like billionaires who don’t know who we are.”

Or the one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.

Undertow

| @leavingonatrain | E | 15.5K

As if Harry's world wasn't already on the brink of change, a twist of fate turns the man he once photographed in the streets of Paris and never forgot from faint memory, to a one night stand, to even more.

He wishes he could say he fought harder not to be pulled into the undertow, but he really, really didn't.

I’m A Man Who’s Got Very Specific Taste

| patdkitten | M |4K

“Birth control is getting expensive,” Louis repeats aloud to himself, focused on the medical bill he's just opened as he blindly locks back up his mailbox. “I could just stick with suppressants and condoms.” He continued, muttering to himself as he folded the bill back up. “It's not like I have a boyfriend or a mate or anything like that to merit continuing taking them.”

“Do you normally announce your sex life in front of the mailboxes?” The voice is slow and deep and makes Louis immediately think of warm cocoa. He also doesn't know the speaker, and he's pretty sure that he knows everyone in the building. “Is that like, a thing in this building? Because I'd like to know, so I can avoid future awkward conversations.” There's a dramatic pause for effect. "Even if they're as gorgeous as you are.”

There's a strange alpha in the building that Louis calls home and he thinks maybe he'll make a proposition to the alpha. It goes a bit different than expected.

you flower, you feast

|stylinsoncity | M | 18K

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry".

London Calls Me a Stranger

|orphan_account | E |9.2K

"Hello, my beautiful, conceited coquette."

"Hi, daddy."

Or the one where Harry is a tease, and Louis is his new neighbour.

Emerald Eyes

|orchidsbyjune | GA | 2K

“They make me lose track of time, you know.” He conversely added after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“What is?”

“You. And your emerald eyes.”

Tide’s Deathless Death

|@poetsreprieve| E| 4.3K

“The Red Serpent gleamed in all of her marvellous glory from where she was anchored a meagre few miles away from the land. Her flag waving proudly in the afternoon sun. The image was certainly memorable, of the flag, that is; a serpent coiled viciously around a human heart, fangs sunken into the organ and blood oozing from the very spot. If not for the ship herself, the flag had its own repute of conveying the message that the captain was not to be trifled with.

There was no single man who had survived after taking up arms against the captain. Well, there was one man, but including him amongst the hoard of common faces would be a foolishness on the feared-by-all captain’s part.

That man currently stood silently staring after the captain, palm curled around the handle of his blade, and teeth clenched in anger. He was certainly going to relieve all the navies of their plight by taking down the captain. At least then, in his relatively newfound life of piracy, he would have done one good deed.”

Slip Into Your Arms

| @ohpleaselarry | NR | 4.4K

“Am I too old to ask for a cast that isn’t just plain white?”

The nurse laughs easily, shaking her head fondly as she continues to scribble on her little clipboard. Louis sets his free (non-broken) hand under his chin and sighs, peeking at the clock for the fifth time in the last minute. Waiting for doctors sucks. Waiting for doctors to come and fix up your throbbing hand while your head pounds and it’s Christmas- that really sucks.”

Walls

| @traviscrux |NR| 23K

Following his line of sight, he frowned and shook his head, "What's wrong?"

"Wasn't your timer on your ring finger?" Liam asked, at that the Alpha immediately swapped the tumbler and looked down at his finger which sported a string of tiny blue flowers on the underside of his ring finger.

The two of them looked at one another.

"You could've touched nearly fifty people by the time you grew delirious," Liam advocated, always the voice of reason. "Comrades, nurses, doctors."

Sighing, he turned away and continued drinking the water. Literally, the only fucking thing remaining in the middle of a fucking war.

Or: Harry has his soulmate timer stuck at zero from the beginning of time but suddenly the fates show mercy and a lovely forget-me-not takes the place of his timer. In between finding his soulmate in a war camp and solving the puzzle of the charismatic doctor who is treating him, all he can hope for is to live.

late nights and good intentions

| @princelouisau |E | 71.8K

“About last night,” Harry says suddenly, as if he’d been debating on whether to say anything. Louis whips back around to look at him.

“Do not finish that thought,” Louis says just as abruptly.

Harry looks at him oddly, as if assessing him. With a small frown, it seems the assessment is over. “I only wish to say that you do not have to dwell on it. The rest of the men will surely forget by tonight.”

“And you?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow. “Will you forget?”

“I will remember every second of it fondly,” the Lord says, no trace of a tease in his words.

or, a Victorian era au where Louis pines for his overprotective older brother’s very charming best friend.”

Where the World has come together

|LadyLondonderry|M| 26K

“For the crime of elven blood running through his veins, Louis Tomlinson spends his days protecting the human kingdom he’s been cast out of. Forcibly tied by magic to the very walls that encircle the city, he and the other guards do what they can to find some semblance of a life.

Then, against Louis’ wishes, someone new is added to their number. How is he supposed to share living quarters with a monster?”

Dancing With The Devil

|CorsetBriefs| E| 160K - completed|

“It's 1967 and Harry is tired of being that little religious boy who everyone makes fun of. Tired of God pretending not to hear him, he decides to take other reins in secret; How bad could it go if he turned to the Devil? How fast would he answer him? It was time to save the Bible and turn the red candles on.

Where Harry is a very sweet teenager who is tired of the way he's living and decides to realise a ritual to invoke the king of hell. Louis is the dumb devil who falls in love.”

Panoramic Girl

| orchidsbyjune | Teen | 2.8K

“Hello there my darling, you look beautiful.” And this, this is what Harry lives for.

“You think so?”

“Always.”

You’re Gonna Pay for this

|Eleven_11 |NR| 3.3K

“'NO!”Three sets of hands moved to grab Harry, and he was so startled that he jumped into the air from his nearly seated position on their new couch, butt just inches away from the pristine leather.He scanned the faces of the four boys in front of him, all colored with a mixture of shock, incredulity, and embarrassment. Harry was at a loss.

“Why?” he sighed.

"---Or, Louis and Harry get something new, and the boys refuse to break it in. Chaos and ridiculousness ensue.”

Endgame

| @brightgolden | E| 38.6K

“Harry has been told all his life how grateful he should be for being born as a male omega, and how blessed their people were because the heir to the throne would be carried by The King.

“What they neglected to tell Harry was what would happen if he failed to become pregnant.”

OR: “Where omega Crown Prince Harry Styles is trying and failing to get pregnant for four years, but all that is about to change when courtesan alpha Louis Tomlinson comes into the equation.”

Three Hearts

|JohnnyMignotta(zeroschiuma)|E|4.1K

“The lads want Louis to date this friend of theirs, Harry, they seem positively obsessed with. Louis has different priorities at the moment, like learning how to take proper care of himself and stop thinking about work 24/7.

He knows someday he is going to marry some corporate sellout like himself anyway, it's a question of time.

One Friday, he decides to go on an impromptu weekend in Southern Italy, where he meets a crazy stranger obsessed with octopus.”

From Dust to Lust

| @jacaranda-bloom | E | 45.4K

“From the moment Louis set eyes on the gorgeous stranger across the airport terminal, he knew the guy was trouble, which was the last thing he wanted. He wouldn’t have thought spending two days cooped up in a car travelling from the Australian Outback to the East Coast would change his mind.

It’s funny how things work out.

OR the one where Louis and Harry are fly-in-fly-out mine workers, coincidences are totally a thing, karaoke is an underrated form of foreplay, and the universe most definitely works in mysterious ways.”

love with every stranger

|barelylegalharry|GA| 10.9K

“It’s clear that they are perfect copies of each other: same eyes, same dimples, same weird noses, and same lips. But it’s also clear that in reality there’s only one of them and Louis’ just drunk enough to have double vision.

Or triple vision, in this case. or, the one where Harry is the responsible parent, Marcel is the Dopey Dwarf, Edward isn't qualified for babysitting and Louis' too drunk to realize there are three of them.”

Chiquitita

|trackfive|GA|4.9K

“Do I have a birthmark?” Rushed out of him, and his face was burning red.

"You woke me at three in the mornin' to ask if you have a birthmark?"

"Please just answer," Harry begged, and Louis woke up a bit more with the urgency of his words.

"You feelin' alright, mate?" Louis asked carefully, not wanting to upset him as he wasn't sure what state Harry was in.

"Louis. Please."

:when a new relationship makes harry feel undervalued, he reaches out to the only person he trusts with all his heart. louis comes to the rescue because, even when they're not together, harry will always be his baby and he will always be harry's home.(harry's house track six: little freak)”

Almost Misheard

|tommokat|GA|6.5k

“Also, here.” Harry reaches into the bag again and holds out… A box of toothpaste?

Louis slowly takes the box, recognizing his brand and preferred flavor plastered all over it. “Uh.”

“You also said you were almost out of toothpaste but kept forgetting to get more. And I needed more floss so I was already over in that aisle.”

“You didn’t have to do that, H.” How in the world did he luck out to have the best best friend in the whole world.”

home is where the heart is

| @maroonmoonlouis |E |47.4k

“Niall, there is absolutely no bloody way your club shelled out over £400,000 to have Harry Styles ugly mug plastered all over London’s bus stops.” Louis scowls from the passenger seat as their car flies by yet another bus stop with his sworn enemy’s face on it.

“Harry was a proper diva that day too,” Niall fondly reminisces of the alpha. “Kept demanding they redo his hair and swatting away any of the players who touched it.”

“They could've done his hair six ways to Sunday and he still wouldn’t look any more attractive than some bigheaded giraffe type,” Louis continues on his tirade, hoping to get his best mate to commiserate with him, but it’s becoming increasingly far-fetched, especially since said best mate is also on the same football team as said giraffe.

or the enemies-to-lovers football au where Harry is the star footie player used to getting his way and Louis is his new manager determined to whip him into shape.”

Chasing Death

| orchidsbyjune | M | 1.6K

“Louis wants to die. Death says no.”

cherry red and gloomy blue

| petricuor | E | 94.6K

“There was an alpha in his kitchen.

There was an alpha in his kitchen and he was in his panties and he reeked of sweat. Oh my God, he thought, what—

Suddenly, their eyes met. A strangled sound came out of Louis’ mouth as he got caught staring, his lips still parted as he scrambled to find something, anything, to say. The alpha preceded him.

“Cazzo,” he cussed, the glass he was holding in one of his hands almost slipping from it. He looked as surprised as Louis felt.

: Summer had never quite been like this before. Yes—it was still sticky, Diletta was the same as always and Louis’ family estate in the Italian countryside hadn’t changed one bit. However, something the young omega would’ve never expected was for a handsome, Italian alpha to completely turn his life upside down—hopefully for the better.”

kiss me like you wanna be loved

|orphan_account|M | 4.7K

“Something about Louis being Doctor Who and Harry being his sassy companion just completed something inside of me.”

maybe you should learn to love her

| orphan_account | GA | 3K

“kiss me like you wanna be loved' from Eleanor's POV.She's so stupid stupid stupid because she thought she had a right to stick her nose where it wasn't wanted, and now she's trying to forget the way the Doctor fell in love with a human boy whose dorm she broke into.”

i’m the fury in your head

|lazarov | M |736

“Maybe that would make it real. Maybe some fucked up concentration of cosmic energy, of psychic power, focused by the lens of all those girls moaning and gasping in unison could make the universe bend and snap back to formation, if only ever so slightly differently.”

i think i love you better now

| @softambrollins | Teen | 2.7K

“The one where they make a marriage pact, and it's not serious until it is.”

make me feel

| theviolonist| E | 2.6K

“It's so easy, is the thing - falling into him is like dancing.”

📌 I still have a long lists, they will be added when i’ve got time. If you want anything specific, let me know on the ask. I’ll give you one because all I do on my free time is read.

#Favourites #FR #hltracks #hlsource #trackinghappily #trackinghome

155 notes · View notes

ravennm84 · 4 years ago

Text

Doctor’s Note

We all know how Lila fakes having different diseases and medical problems, but what would happen if she actually got sick and her mother went to the school to drop off a doctor’s note and pick up Lila’s assignments? Want the answer? Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!

Greta Rossi could admit that she was a bit of a workaholic. Being the secretary to the assistant ambassador of Italy, in a city that was constantly under attack by a magical terrorist, was not the easiest job in the world either. It took a lot of early mornings, late nights, and even some weekends to make sure everything was prepared for her boss. But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t drop everything for her one and only daughter when she needed her.

Right now, for example, Lila was trapped in bed with a nasty case of strep throat. The poor girl had a fever, white pustules at the back of her throat, and could hardly stop coughing. It was only due to some very strong medicine that she was able to stop coughing long enough to pass out from exhaustion.

She had contacted her work to let them know she would be taking the week off, and the ambassador had been very understanding. Stressing that he knew how dedicated she was to her work and that it was good for her to take time off for her family. It was only after Lila was sound asleep that she made the phone call to her school, she wanted to make sure they knew why Lila was staying home and that she would be in later that afternoon to pick up her daughter’s assignments for the next week.

The principal, M. Damocles was his name, seemed very happy to have spoken to her and said that he would have her assignments waiting when she came to pick them up. Also, if she could bring the doctors’ notes with her, that would be very much appreciated.

Checking again that Lila was sound asleep, she left a note on her daughter’s bedside table that she was running some errands, would be home soon, and to text her if she needed anything.

Arriving at the school, she was surprised to see everything running so smoothly and that the reconstruction after the two month akuma attack had been gone so well. She was impressed that she couldn’t even tell the difference between the old and new parts of the building. But then, she wasn’t overly skilled with architecture or building construction, so that wasn’t a surprise to her.

A few knocks on the door and she entered M. Damocles office. She had only met the man a couple times, but he had seemed like a decent person. It was a shame that he had been akumatized for so long and she was curious about what had happened to cause him to be akumatized, but she wasn’t sure if it was proper to ask him.

“Mme. Rossi, good to see you. I understand that Lila has fallen ill?” He asked, spinning around to grab a blue folder behind his desk.

“Yes, the poor dear has strep throat and has been coughing nonstop for days.” Greta told him as she pulled the doctor’s note from her purse. “Here’s the note you requested, do you have her homework packet?”

Damocles looked over the note for a moment before nodding and looking at her expectantly. “Thank you, do you have her other doctor’s notes?”

Greta tilted her head in confusion. “Does she need more than one? It’s just strep throat, she should be back to school after next week.”

“No madam, this is all I need for her current leave from school. I was referring to the doctor’s notes for her tinnitus, arthritis, sprained wrist, and her lying disease. That last one especially, and any information you can give me on accommodating that one so we do not have a repeat of the incident last month.”

Nothing in the world could have kept her jaw from dropping. What he had just told her? “M. Damocles, everything you just said is completely false. Lila has no such ailments, and I don’t think there is such a thing as a lying disease, unless you are referring to pathological lying.”

The man blinked back at her a few times before raising one hand to rub his brow. “Oh my, Mme. Rossi, I believe you and I must have a long discussion about the things your daughter has been saying and doing since she started school here.”

Her legs were stiff as she lowered herself into a chair, a sick feeling growing in her stomach as M. Damocles pulled a different folder out from his desk.

~oOo~

Over two hours later, many truths had finally come out.

1) The school had never closed for months due to akumas.

2) When M. Damocles had been akumatized, it had been at night and did no damage to the school.

3) Greta was not the ambassador, but a secretary.

4) Lila did not suffer from any diseases.

5) They had been in Paris since Lila had started school, no globetrotting whatsoever.

6) She and her husband were not estranged, he had simply wanted to stay at his dream job in Venice and she would never force him to leave it for her temporary assignment here in Paris.

7) Lila’s grandmother was alive and had never owned or given Lila a foxtail necklace.

8) The phone number on file was Lila’s number, not Greta’s. And the email was supposed to be ‘.gov’ not ‘.com’.

Damocles had also called one of Lila’s classmates to his office, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. When the principal told Greta about the incident from the previous month, she was shocked. Then Marinette told them her side of the story; all the lies, the threats, and finally setting the poor girl up to be expelled. Greta had never been so angry with her daughter in her life. Sure, she had been a good little story teller and actress when she was little, but she never would have thought she could be so cruel.

By the end of her explanation, Marinette was practically in tears.

When she mentioned that Adrien Agreste also knew of Lila’s lies, he was called to the office as well. He was a little more reluctant to talk about what Lila had been saying, but Greta insisted that she wanted to know what her daughter had been doing since coming to school, so he told her. If she hadn’t been disgusted before, she definitely was now. Getting Adrien’s father’s employees in trouble, lying about being friends with Ladybug all while telling Greta that she was a useless hero, sexually harassing Adrien while the boy didn’t even realize that was what she was doing to him. She had become a Gabriel model without her permission, which meant that Lila had likely forged her signatures on the contracts, so she would need to contact M. Agreste to get that sorted out. One of the things that surprised her was hearing that Lila had been akumatized, not once or twice, but three times!

Not long after that, M. Damocles dismissed the children so he and Greta could finish speaking. He told her that, due to falsifying contact records and two months of truancy, Lila was likely to be expelled. Greta accepted this, knowing that she would have done the same thing in that man’s position. In fact, she already had a plan forming on how to thoroughly punish her deceitful daughter. And since Lila had basically been quarantined for the next week and a half, she knew exactly what to do.

First, she began the paperwork to have Lila pulled out of Francois Dupont, effective immediately and asked to go speak to Lila’s classmates. After hearing what her daughter had put Marinette through, she wanted to make sure everyone knew the truth. Damocles allowed this, first pulling Mme. Bustier from the class to alert her as to what was happening. The woman was appalled to hear what had happened but insisted that she had been in contact with her for months via email, to which Greta informed her that it was not her email, but one that Lila had likely set up to keep the school from contacting her. This shocked the teacher to the point where she heavily leaned against the wall and M. Damocles had to support her to keep from collapsing.

When Greta was finally permitted to address the class and debunk the lies that her daughter had been spewing, there had been a lot of shock and questions to follow. But when a girl named Alya began furiously typing on her phone to blow up at Lila, Greta stopped her.

“I’m going to ask that none of you contact Lila from now on.” Alya and the other students looked at her in surprise, but she continued before anyone could interrupt. “I have already begun putting her punishment into motion and know for a fact that it will not be something she will forget anytime soon. So I ask that you do not call, text, or email her. If she attempts to contact you, tell her that you are busy and can’t talk. If she attempts to invite you over or make plans for the future, tell her that you are unavailable or that you already have plans. If she makes any threats or rude remarks to anyone, please forward those messages to me, I will leave my number for you to do so. Do this so that I may move forward with her punishment without her suspecting that I have discovered the truth.”

Having finally had the wool lifted from their eyes, the students realized just how much attention Lila seemed to demand on a daily basis. So, by acting like they were too busy for her or not in the mood to talk, that will drive her crazy and be a nice bit of revenge for lying to them. The class agreed.

After that, Greta headed home to find that Lila was still asleep but beginning to wake up, if the coughing was any indicator. While still having the chance, she called up her husband back in Venice.

“Pronto.”

“Mio amor, how are you? How are things at the school?”

“Ah, mia bella, the school is wonderful, though I must admit, my urge to see you and Lila grows by the minute. When will you come to visit me?”

“Very soon, actually. I’m afraid that you and I need to have a talk about our daughter.” About thirty minutes and a lot of cursing later, Ciro Rossi was now completely up to date on the actions of their daughter.

“I wish to say that I cannot believe Lila would do such things, but I can’t help remembering that boy, Roberto, from two years ago.”

Yes, Greta remembered him well. He had been a very popular boy at Lila’s school; handsome, rich, from a very well connected family, and from what she understood, completely dedicated to his boyfriend. She hadn’t paid him much attention until Lila came home crying that Roberto had attempted to sexually assault her. Greta and Ciro had refused to let such a thing go unchecked and went to the police to report him. During the weeks to follow, Roberto was put through hell; bullied at school, he was beaten up a few times, his boyfriend broke up with him, and his name slandered all over Venice. They had believed what happened to the boy to be justified… until proof was provided that he was nowhere near Lila when she claimed to have been assaulted.

She suddenly recanted her story, saying that she must have been mistaken and someone that looked like Roberto assaulted her, but the damage had already been done. The boy and his family moved somewhere far away, and Greta and Ciro were forced to pay restitution to Roberto for ruining his name and reputation. Through her tears, Lila convinced them that it had been an honest mistake and that she hadn’t meant for any of that to happen. It wasn’t long after that, Greta received an offer to be the secretary for the assistant ambassador in Paris. Lila had begged her mother to go with her, claiming that her classmates were now bullying her for what happened to Roberto. Wanting to protect their daughter, they agreed.

Looking back on it now, and noticing the similarities between Roberto and Adrien, both Greta and Ciro were disappointed in themselves for not seeing the truth. Which likely was that Lila had tried to get close to Roberto for his money and connections, and when he turned her down, she lied about the assault to ruin his life, much like she had done to Marinette. And when it came out that she had lied about Roberto, her classmates had turned on her. So when she got the chance to start somewhere new, with people who didn’t know about her lies, she took it. Not caring if she harmed anyone at her new school while repeating old habits. But they were not about to let Lila do the same thing to Adrien or Marinette. Once Greta told her husband her plan, he was all for it and began preparing things on his end. By the time Lila was done being sick, her entire life would have turned upside down.

~oOo~

It took a lot more effort than Greta had expected to hide her intentions for the nine days it took for Lila to get over her case of strep throat, but she had been making good use of that time.

She had contacted Gabriel Agreste’s secretary and asked about any contracts that may have been signed. When she told her she hadn’t signed any contract and that her daughter would no longer be modelling, the woman had no choice but to accept this and inform M. Agreste of this development. The woman also informed Greta that such a breach of contract would result in Lila being blacklisted from the fashion industry. She agreed and promised that she would inform her daughter of this once she was better.

Greta then looked into Lila’s savings and trust fund, of which she had control of since Lila was still a minor. She drained the accounts to pay restitutions to Marinette for bullying and slander, Adrien for sexual harassment; and then sent the rest of it to Roberto, along with a message that she was now completely aware of the type of person her daughter was and would be adequately punished very soon.

And to keep too much suspicion off of her, Greta began mentioning to Lila how her father desperately wanted to see her after she got better, so after the doctor gave her a clean bill of health, they would be going to Venice to see him. Now that she was watching, Greta saw the twinge of uncertainty at the mention of Venice, but quickly covered it with false excitement for going back to visit her father.

As the day grew closer that they would be heading to Italy, Greta also noticed Lila glaring at her phone with utter malice. She might not have known what was going on if Lila’s classmate, Alya, wasn’t keeping her up-to-date on what Lila was telling them. Her daughter was attempting to tell the class that she was going to be going on a trip with a famous singer after she was better, but her classmates were doing as Greta asked and treating the lies as if they meant nothing. When she accused Marinette of calling her a liar while she was sick and couldn’t defend herself, the class stopped responding.

One message that was forwarded to Greta nearly had her abandoning her plan and confronting her daughter at that moment. It was a message that Lila had sent to Marinette, who had shared it with Alya, who then forwarded it to Greta. It read:

You fugly, no talent bitch! You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Those stupid sheep were eating up every single one of my lies before I got sick, and now they won’t even talk to me! Just you wait. When I get back to school, I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself. Maybe I’ll convince someone that you tried to kill me and they’ll kill you for me. Either way, you’re dead. And even if you show someone these messages, no one will believe you over me.

Greta forwarded the message to Ciro as well. He called her right away to discuss other accommodations that they would be making for Lila in the coming days. There was something seriously wrong with their daughter, and they refused to turn a blind eye to what was happening.

When the day finally came that Lila was better and they were heading to Venice, Greta instructed Lila not to pack her more expensive clothes as she would not want to lose them if their baggage got lost. What her daughter didn’t know was that Greta was planning on selling all of her designer clothes, jewelry, her electronics, and everything else to continue paying restitutions to Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto. And it wasn’t like she would need them soon, anyway.

The plane ride was a bit nerve racking for Greta, as she worried about giving something away and Lila figuring out her plan; but if she did, it didn’t show. When they landed at Venice Marco Polo Airport, she had to resist her sigh of relief. The plan was almost ready to be put in action.

When she saw Ciro waiting for them in his dress whites, her heart sped a bit more. The man was, without a doubt, the most handsome man she’d ever met, and was the love of her life. Being away from him for so long was difficult, but what else could they do? Her husband was a Capitano di Vascello of the Italian Navy and had worked very hard to get where he was. Although he was semi-retired now and no longer served on a ship, he had followed his dream and became the Vice Principal for the premier naval academy in Venice, Francesco Morosini Naval Military School.

He had gone to the school when he was younger and always claimed that it was the best experience he could have ever wished for. That being in that school saved his life. So when he continued into the navy to serve his country, he made it his goal to one day become the Principal of the school that saved him, so that he could do the same for other students. And now, they would be doing the same for Lila.

Greta and Ciro had thought of admitting Lila to Francesco Morosini when she came of age, but quickly realized that she was not the Navy type and did not want to force her into it. That choice was no longer Lila’s and she would be staying at the military school where it was Ciro’s job, not only as a father, but as an administrator of the school, to keep a close eye on any problem children.

Ciro embraced Greta and then Lila before taking their bags and walking them to his car. Lila was talking at length to her father about all her friends at school, all the happenings in Paris, and even mentioned her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.

“You would like him, Papa. He’s a model, a gentleman, and his father is the designer, Gabriel Agreste. And he treats me like a princess!” Lila gushed as she showed her father a picture of Lila kissing the blonde boy’s cheek. Greta had seen that picture and had even asked Adrien about it while they had spoken in M. Damocles office. Lila had apparently kissed him without permission when she took that picture, and then sent it to every girl in Adrien’s contact list to make it seem like they were dating.

Ciro played along, asking questions about her classes, Adrien, the akuma situation that he had heard about over the news, and other things to keep Lila from growing suspicious. Sure enough, she prattled on through the entire car and ferry ride to Venice. Only seeming to look around questioning when they arrived at the Naval school, rather than their apartment.

“What are we doing here?” She asked, looking at her father in confusion.

The two parents dropped the act and glared at their daughter in disappointment and anger. “I’m surprised at you, young lady,” Greta started. “Did you really think you could keep lying to us? We. Know. Everything.”

They watched as her olive skin quickly paled. “What do you mean? I didn’t lie, I sw-”

“We know the school never closed,” Ciro interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument or interruption. “We know about you lying to your classmates and teachers about having disabilities and diseases. We know about you changing our contact information on your school records. We know about you bullying and sexually harassing your classmates. We know about the threats you’ve made to that one girl. We know that you’ve been akumatized multiple times. We know the truth about what you really did to Roberto two years ago! WE KNOW EVERYTHING!”

With every word he said, Lila seemed to inch away from her irate parents and shrink into herself. At the same time, they saw the rage and contemplation in her eyes. She was angry at being caught and was already trying to think of a way out of trouble. Not that they would give her a chance to even try.

“But I didn’t li-”

“Lie number one, Ladybug is a useless superhero that let your school get damaged and spent months trying to deakumatize your principal, which is why you were out of school for two months.” Greta interrupted that time, pinning her daughter with a glare that she usually reserved for idiot interns who screwed up important paperwork at the embassy. “I personally spoke to your principal and looked into Ladybug. The school never closed. Ladybug and Chat Noir have always defeated the akumas and restored the damage thanks to their abilities. And you told the school that you and I were off globetrotting to places like Achu.”

Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. She was just beginning to stammer out an excuse when her father spoke over her.

“Lie number two, a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been bullying you because she is jealous of your relationship with your boyfriend, Adrien Agreste. We have seen the texts that you have sent that girl, the most recent saying,” Ciro pulled out his phone to read off of the text “‘...I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself…’ Does that sound familiar to you?”

“I also personally spoke to Adrien after I spoke to Marinette, and found out that not only are you not his girlfriend, but you have been sexually harassing him! You even showed us proof in that picture you took where you kissed him!”

“But that’s not sexual harassment!” Lila shot back at them as her panic grew.

“Any unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature constitutes sexual harassment. Your mother and I memorized that when you accused Roberto of assault, which is another thing you lied about! And let me guess, you wanted to use that boy’s popularity and family connections for a leg-up, but he turned down your advances since he was gay. You didn’t take that rejection well, so you told us he assaulted you. Is that what happened?”

“How did you-” Lila interrupted herself that time by slapping her hand over her mouth, quickly realizing that she had confirmed what her father had just said.

“Well, congratulations young lady. You have earned a complete overhaul on your life.”

“What do you mean?” Lila didn’t want to know, but it seemed like she had no choice but to ask.

“Your modelling contract with Gabriel is done,” Greta told her, noticing her wince since they weren’t supposed to know about that either. “I spoke with his assistant and discovered that you forged my signatures on the contracts to let you model. They were kind enough not to pursue legal action against you, but they have asked that I inform you that you have been blacklisted from the fashion industry, so that career option is completely closed off to you.”

“Your mother educated your friends at school with the truth. They know about all your lies and have kept us apprised of what you have been saying, the rumors you have been attempting to spread about going on a trip with a random music star, and were kind enough to forward that threatening message you sent to that girl, Marinette. They are no longer interested in being your ‘sheep’.”

“Not that you will be returning to that school,” Greta continued. “Your truancy has made that impossible, even if we did want you to stay there to face the consequences of your actions. Which includes paying restitution to the people you’ve hurt.”

“Paying!” Ciro and Greta watched as Lila’s right eye began to twitch as she snapped at them.

“Yes, paying. I’ve already emptied out your savings and trust fund to pay back Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto for what you’ve done to them-”

“You can’t do that! That’s my money!” She screamed, stomping her foot at her mother like a five year old throwing a tantrum.

“Money that you earned illegally modelling after forging my signature. And you are a minor, I am well within my rights to take that money to pay for the damages you have incurred. I will also be selling your laptop, tablet, mobile phone, as well as the clothes and jewelry you left in Paris. Seeing as you won’t be needing them anymore.”

As she said this, Lila clutched her phone and hugged it against her chest. “How am I supposed to talk to anyone without my phone?”

“Pen and paper, and if you need to speak with your mother, there’s my office phone or the payphone in the barracks, where you will be staying.”

The girl’s eyes grew impossibly wide as she looked at her parents in a panic. They couldn’t mean…

Ciro smiled the smile that he used to greet the families whose children were in need of discipline. “Welcome to Francesco Morosini Naval Military School, where we strive to give children an education that will help them for their future and the world that waits for them.”

~oOo~

There had been a lot of begging, crying, and screaming after that as Lila did everything she could to try and change her parents’ minds. This was a total nightmare for her. Forced to wear a uniform she hated. Surrounded by students, teachers, and her father; all of whom knew that she was a liar. No one gave her the type of attention she craved, but everyone was giving her the overly watchful attention she despised. She couldn’t even enjoy becoming an akuma anymore, as she was far out of Hawkmoth’s reach.

Greta and Ciro had gone out to dinner afterwards in an attempt to de-stress, only to get a call an hour later that Lila had tried to steal a boat and run away from the school. She was put on a 24/7 watch after that, now required to wear a tracking monitor wherever she went and was on bathroom and floor cleaning duty for the foreseeable future.

When Greta returned to Paris, she went about doing exactly as she promised. She sold Lila’s electronics, clothes, and jewelry; only keeping a pair of plastic stud earrings that her grandmother had given her. She met with M. Damocles again to let him know that everything had been taken care of. She contacted the Dupain-Cheng family to let them know that Lila wouldn’t be bothering their daughter again. That was probably the most pleasant thing she did, as they were a lovely family and sent her off with a box of assorted scones, so yummy! When she had them send a box of goodies to her husband in Venice, he called her a few days later and begged her to send more whenever she could.

Lila absolutely hated seeing her father enjoy pastries from the bakery of her rival’s family. That, along with being forced to talk to a psychiatrist three times a week to make her admit that she was a liar and to figure out why she feels the need to lie. All while wearing a horrible uniform and actually having to clean. She was in her own personal hell. How she wished that she had never gotten sick.

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @back-cats-and-broken-mirrors @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld @corabeth11 @chocolatechipcookiesandcamembert @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @ladylupuscrow @maskedpainter @miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @naruwitch @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @pandora-fucking-box @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

#lila salt #lila gets exposed #lila lies #lila karma #lila bashing #mlbjustice #miraculous ladybug #lila's parents #parenting done right

919 notes · View notes

sohin-ace · 3 years ago

Text

Kakyoin - Fateful Day

Kakyoin x Jotaro's sister reader

I freaking love the Joot-sister prompt

You were always used to Jotaro and you walking separatedly from and to school. The guy had way longer legs than you and would rather not be seen with you in public and near school, for reasons mysterious to you.

At first you felt offended that he would be ashamed of you, or just not bear your presence.

You did not know, in fact, that the reasons he kept his distance from you as much as he could when on schoolgrounds or when going to school, was to protect you from danger.

Not only was Jotaro constantly surrounded by crazy girls who would probably harass you for existing in his world, but he also had troubles, to understate, with local delinquents and other gangsters who wanted to throw some hands at him.

Furthermore, with the new discovery of that bizarre, seemingly evil spirit that started following him around, you were really the last person he wanted to hurt.

Unfortunately, being distant from his little sister wasn't near enough to protect her this time.

One fateful day, soon after your grandfather arrived in Japan and Jotaro got out of holding, you were walking home from school as usual.

Jotaro was already a solid five minutes away in front of you, which meant you were all alone.

You didn't mind the lone walk, the town was peaceful and you were used to it. But something irked you when you felt an insistant presence behind you.

You turned around, checking, but no one was there. You shrugged the feeling off, feeling a bit stupid for thinking the worse and kept walking, telling yourself it must have been a cat or an innocent someone who got home.

"Jotaro~! Welcome back- hm? Where is your sister?" Holly asked as she welcomed her son who just came home.

The boy grunted, reluctantly accepting his 'welcome home' smooch. "She's coming. She's just slow."

After a long while of waiting for your return, Holly started to worry, stress and anxiety clouding her mind. Panicked, she barged in Jotaro's bedroom. You weren't usually this late.

"Jotaro, are you sure Y/N was behind you? It's been almost thirty minutes and she's still not back…"

Jotaro huffed in annoyance as he got up from his laid down position on his bed.

"Yare yare daze, quit worrying over nothing, she's probably fine."

" 'Probably'?!"

"What's going on, Holly?" Joseph joined in after hearing the commotion.

"Y/N's not back from school yet… I'm scared something might have happened to her…" Holly explained to her father, dread even more evident in her voice as she worded her worries.

Joseph rubbed her shoulder in reassurance, "It's okay, Holly, I'm sure she's not that far. Jotaro! Get up and go look for your sister! You're supposed to keep an eye on her, that's your role as a big brother!"

The old man scolded as the teenager stood up and got on his way, as if he had been asked an annoying chore.

"Yare yare, you're all so noisy over nothing." He put his shoes back on and took his leave.

Stopping every once in a while and unable to shake off your uneasy feeling truly delayed you. You were sure you'd never hear the end of this if your father knew how late you were today.

"Kujo..." A sudden deep voice called right behind you, and you turned around, meeting with a complete stranger. "…Am I correct?"

"Yes?" You replied a bit shyly as you turned fully to him. "And you are...?"

As you now had a better look at him, you realised how handsome he actually looked. Not at all how you imagined a potential creep following you.

He wore your school's uniform but you didn't recognize his face. He must be a new student, you told yourself. He had beautiful red hair and a white shawl that flew gracefully in the wind. He was also strongly and elegantly built. Just who was he?

But all that charm quickly shifted as he smirked eerily in response. He approached you, his eyes glaring into your soul and you stepped backwards as fear built up inside you. Why was he looking at you like that so suddenly?

The uneasiness from before came up tenfold, this time completely justified. You spoke up as he came uncomfortably close to you, towering over your much smaller form.

"U-um… Did you need something…?" You hesitantly stuttered as he now stood arm-length away from you.

"Yes I do." He spoke confidently, his goal like set in stone. "I need you to lead me to your brother."

"What? My brother? If it's a fight you want with him, I won't let you." You protested with more confidence, now that you started to understand where he came from.

You were used to people trying to pick fights with Jotaro. You knew your brother had way too many enemies for his own good, and surely you wouldn't let anyone get to him and filter them out if you had the occasion.

"Who even are you? I don't recognize you from school…" You squinted your eyes warily. This boy arised too many questions in your mind.

Kakyoin smiled softly at you, which you didn't trust at all. He was fishy and there was something in his eyes that you quite couldn't put you finger on.

"My name is Kakyoin Noriaki." He sighed. "I didn't want to use force on a lady, but you don't leave me any choices..."

Before you could even react, green tentacle-like appendices appeared from behind him and lunged at you. You gasped and bolted away as fast as you could.

You knew it. It was bad. Real bad. You had no chance against a Stand user like him, you couldn't manage your own newly found Stand just yet. It was exactly like your grandfather said.

You tried to run, but not even 2 meters far and his green vectors wrapped around your ankles.

As you were about to trip and land on the floor, more of the tentacles wrapped around your legs, waist, arms and wrists, preventing you from falling, keeping you still in mid-air.

You couldn't move. Kakyoin came up behind you as you struggled in Hierophant Green's grip.

"Well that was easy." He snickered over your tied up and desperate form.

"LET ME GO!! LET ME- HMMFF!" He put a large hand over your mouth, effectively silencing your now muffled screams.

"Shhh! Don't make this harder for us, I'll just borrow your body real quick. It'll be over before you even know it. I'll make this painless, I'm a gentleman."

He released your mouth and Hierophant green squeezed itself around your neck, choking you, your mouth agape for you desperately needed air.

He took this advantage to grab your wrists and lock you against his chest as his Stand released you to nest itself inside your opened mouth.

Your body tensed up at the foreign and disgusting feeling of the spirit slipping down your throat and you violently squirmed in Kakyoin's grip as he forced your mouth closed, keeping the Stand inside to own your will and possess you. Just as Dio had taught him.

"Good. That's good. Jotaro would never kill his own sister, now would he? Even though his own sister will kill him. How tragically ironic."

He wrapped his arms back to your midsection as you stopped squirming, tired and breathless from fighting against him in vain. He held you against him as he knew you would surely collapse if he let go.

"Haaah… Ahh… Haaaa… Haaahh…" You panted shakily, scared and exhausted as your head hung low and your cold hands rested upon his own, barely able to swat them away from you with how shakey you were.

You were weak and alone, which was perfect for him to use. He chuckled and you felt the rumble of his chest against your back as he did. You felt like crying.

"It's too bad that you have to die. You're so cute, I would have loved to bring you to Master Dio with me."

You suddenly felt nauseous. You felt his stand inside you, trying to slide itself into every part of you and take control of your body.

You tried to resist, your arms and legs were shaking, your arched your back and writhed in pain, you knew your own Stand was fighting against it.

To Kakyoin's utter shock, Hierophant Green was violently pushed out of you by your own Stand as you let out lung-piercing coughs. Spitting the enemy out like some flesh-eating parasyte.

"WHAT-?!" Kakyoin yelped at the scene, but was then forced to let go of you as your Stand punched Hierophant Green in the face, the red-head owner feeling the hit full-force as well.

Kakyoin fell down, knocked down by the impact as you collapsed to your knees, coughing up and vomiting spit and blood.

Adrenaline pushing you through, you didn't let yourself any time to recover and took this chance to run away as fast as you could, taking sharp turns and passing through narrow paths that you prayed he wouldn't fit through or have the idea of searching.

You eventually lost track of him, gasping desperately for air as your lungs hurt in a dry and sharp pain, fed by the ceaseless pounding of your heart. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, you couldn't take it anymore.

Right as you passed the Torii gate of the temple nearest to your neighborhood, one you walked through every day, you passed out cold onto the paved holy ground.

Jotaro slowly walked his way back to the path you usually both took to come home after school. He walked and walked, but still no trace of you on the way.

Although he would never admit it, his anxiety grew inside him and his heartbeat quickened as he realised that you were way too far from home for his own liking. You were right behind him, how could this happen?

He started to feel guilty that he didn't even check if you were still following him or not. Especially when he realized that so many people, people who yearned to get under Jotaro Kujo's skin, could easily do so by taking you down and harming you, his own sister.

His train of thoughts were interrupted when he found something, or rather someone on the stoned floor of the local temple. And as he approached the figure, sure enough, his eyes widened and his heart jumped in his chest. No...

"Y/N…!"

He immediately kneeled down next to you and lifted you to his lap. He checked you up and down for injuries and noticed you had fresh bruises forming on your wrists and neck and you were bleeding from your mouth. He could not believe what he was seeing.

"Aah… Jojo…" you whimpered in a wheeze as you recognized your brother's voice and his smokey scent.

"Who did this to you? What's the name of that fucking asshole?!" He growled, his gruff voice contrasting with the care he held you with.

"H-he's a stand user like you… Kakyoin… He's after you, don't go to school tomorrow…" You croaked and coughed out while looking up at his worried eyes and your brother scoffed.

"Yare yare, you're stupid to think I won't go to school and drum his ass."

He lifted you up and carried you back home to get your injuries treated. As to be expected, Holly freaked out at your state and Jotaro received a earful from Joseph who told him to never let a young girl walk all by herself, let alone his little sister and especially with all the trouble he gets into.

The next day, you stayed home to rest for the day, making you feel much better. Thankfully you had no major injuries and the Speedwagon foundation doctors knew about Stand inflicted wounds.

You had interesting chats with the guest Abdul and Joseph spoiled you all day like you were his baby which, to be fair, you were in his eyes.

In the mean time, Jotaro had met with Kakyoin and had an inevitable fight. Unfortunately, what Kakyoin had going on was much deeper than just wanted to bully Jotaro. When Jotaro came back home, he brought Kakyoin's unconscious body and you learned about what happened to him, about Dio, the fleshbud, and why he aimed at killing Jotaro.

Knowing what had transpired and with you doing much better, you decided to go check on the boy. You felt it was important to start allover with him.

You knocked gently on the guest room's door and slid it open, revealing Kakyoin in his injured state. Your brother truly did not hold back, you thought.

"Hello Kakyoin…" You greeted a bit shyly as you walked through the door. The red head looked at you with wide eyes as he recognized you.

"Y-...you're the girl I attacked yesterday?" You nodded and he sighed sadly. "I'm deeply sorry for what I did… That was.... Despicable of me..."

"Don't worry," You approached him and knelt down at his side. "My grandfather explained what happened to you. I'm not mad. You weren't yourself."

Kakyoin then glanced at your bruised neck and looked away in shame.

"I can't believe I harmed a girl… in such a low, awful way…" You chuckled lightly at his exaggerated worry.

"Hey, I'm fine! Look, you're in an even worse state than I am. Stop fretting and let us take care of you, okay?" You gently smiled at him.

He looked at you with a soft gaze. He bit his lip and blinked back the tears that prickled in his eyes. Were all members of this family pure redempting angels of sympathy and goodness?

"Thank you, Kujo, you're very kind..."

"Just call me Y/N." You smiled as you leaned in to move out some hairs that were stuck to his frontal bandage.

"Y/N…" He softly repeated, a blush rising to his face. Even your name was beautiful, he thought to himself, never daring to say it out loud.

His heart fluttered in his chest at your feathery touch and he felt suddenly much shier. He wanted to hold that soft hand in his own, but before he could even do anything, Holly called your name from afar.

"Y/N! Can you please come here for a second?"

"I'm coming!" You replied before looking back at the boy. "Sorry, I have to go. I'll let you rest until dinner is ready."

Kakyoin nodded and laid back down on the mattress. He let out a soft 'oh' of surprise when you gripped the blanket and tucked him in sweetly before getting up and leaving, sliding the door close behind you.

He sighed, unable to fight his little goofy grin.

"Damn it… I'm falling in love…"

Old writing again. I'm really just putting the dusty stuff I should have posted a year ago. I apologize for the poor litterature.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo #jojo no kimyou na bouken #writing #x reader #reader insert #reader is a kujo #kujo reader #reader is Jotaro's sister #kakyoin x reader #kakyoin noriaki #kakyoin #kakyoin noriaki x reader #part 3 #jojo part 3 #stardust crusaders

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years ago

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assistant ~ roman godfrey;hemlock grove

word count: 1471

request?: no

description: when you start a new job as the assistant of a huge company, the ceo takes an interest in you

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing, harassing remarks

masterlist (one, two)

“And here is the main floor,” said the lady giving me a tour of Godfrey Industries. “This is where you’ll be doing most of your work, but it’s good to know the building in case Mr. Godfrey ever asks you to get something for him.”

“What’s he like?” I asked her. It was the first time my future employer had been mentioned and I had yet to meet him.

She paused a moment before turning to face me. She was suddenly the most serious she had been all day. “He can be a little short tempered sometimes. He has gone off on some of his employees sometimes. If he ever does to you, do not hesitate to come to me for it, alright?”

That sounded reassuring.

I followed her towards Mr. Godfrey’s office, my heart hammering against my chest.

“Mr. Godfrey?” she said as she knocked at the door. “Your new assistant is here.”

“Bring her in.”

She opened the door and nodded for me to go in first. I hoped neither one of them would see how bad my hands were shaking.

I was shocked to see how young he was. Of course, I knew Mr. Godfrey was no more than 21 years old and took over the family business right out of high school, but I didn’t expect someone so young and handsome to be sat behind that desk.

His blue eyes lifted from whatever he was writing and landed on me. I shuffled under his gaze, wondering what was running through his mind as he looked at me.

“Mr. Godfrey, this is (Y/F/N),” she introduced. “She’ll be working as your new assistant.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Godfrey,” I said, trying to keep my voice as even as possible.

“Please, we’re basically the same age,” he said. “Call me Roman. Is it alright if I address you by your first name, too?”

I was so stunned that I could barley get my words out. “Y-Yes, that’s-that’s okay.”

He smiled at me and I felt like my whole body would melt into the floor.

“It’s nice to meet you (Y/N). I can’t wait to work together.”

~~~~~~

The first few days were nothing exciting, mainly running a few errands for Roman. We were rarely ever alone together, which I was a little disappointed by. I knew it was wrong to have these sort of thoughts about my boss, but I couldn’t help it. He was so handsome and charming.

I was at my desk secretly scrolling through my phone when the intercom chimed, signaling Roman was about to speak.

“(Y/N), can you bring the papers regarding the mill in for me?”

“Right away Roman.”

I grabbed the file labelled Godfrey Industries Mill and brought it down to the conference room where I knew Roman was in a meeting.

The moment I walked in I froze again. There were so many official looking business men sat around the table, now they were all looking at me. I smiled awkwardly before crossing the room to pass the file to Roman.

“Thank you (Y/N),” he said as he took it.

“New assistant, Roman?” one of the men asked.

“Yeah, she just started,” Roman responded, barley regarding the man who spoke.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Roman glared briefly at him before saying, “(Y/N), these are some of my business partners.”

I smiled at them and shuffled uncomfortably when I noticed how they were looking at me. I had heard the jokes about business men and their assistants, but I never believed them. That would be a massive HR issue, right?

But the way these men were looking at me...I wanted to shrink behind Roman for protection.

“I bet you're having a fantastic time with her,” another man commented. “You’ve broken her in already, right Rom?”

“The innocent ones are always the best in the sack,” another added.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes as they all laughed. I was willing myself to move, but I was stuck in place.

The sound of Roman’s hands slamming down on the desk caused me to jump as he stood from his seat. His face was blood red and he looked ready to explode.

“Get the fuck out,” he hissed.

“What?” one of the men questioned.

“I said get the fuck out! All of you!” For good measure, he threw the file at the first man who spoke, narrowly avoiding his face. “Forget the fucking mill deal, forget any fucking deal. I’m not doing business with you disgusting excuse for men anymore!”

They were all shocked, but knew better than to fight against Roman. They all left, grumbling to themselves and calling Roman a handful of names.

We were left alone. Roman sat back down, running his hands through his hair.

“Do..do you want me to...?” I started, gesturing towards the papers that had scattered from the thrown file.

“No,” he responded, his voice softer now. “I’ll take care of it. You take a break, a prolonged one if you need.”

I nodded and quickly left the room, hoping all the business men had left the building entirely as I raced for the nearest bathroom to hide for a while.

~~~~~~

I was on my own in the lobby area when a cup of coffee and a picture perfect sprinkled donut was placed in front of me. I looked up from my computer to see Roman sipping from his own cup, his breathtaking eyes gazing down at me.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he said. “I didn’t check before I got both of those for you.”

“I appreciate it,” I said, taking the cup and the donut. “I still had some stuff I needed to do, I couldn’t go home early.”

“I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to.”

I took a sip of my coffee, not wanting to respond. Truthfully, I had thrown myself so heavily into my work to keep the disgusting words said by Roman’s business partners out of my head.

I had never been spoken to in such a way before. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I’d been spoken to in such a way, but it still made me feel dirty and wrong when I thought about it. Like I was nothing more than some eye candy for business men who were old enough to be my father (except for Roman).

Roman continued to lean against the desk, looking down at me as I diverted my attention back to my computer.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” he said. “Those fuckers are a little too...stereotypical.”

I shook my head, trying to downplay my feelings on the situation. “It’s alright. I appreciate you standing up for me, but I’m sorry if it ruins your business relations or whatever.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I could give less of a fuck. They're all assholes anyways. They only use me for money and power for their bullshit projects. And what they did to you was far from alright. It was wrong, and I hope you know I’m not going to tolerate you being treated like that. Not now, not ever.”

I nodded and took another sip of my coffee, unsure as to what else to say. I was shocked that the situation had made Roman so angry. I mean, I was glad people treating me so poorly made him upset and he wasn’t about to sweep this under the rug, but to cut business ties just for me? I was still trying to figure that part out.

Silence fell over us again and I wondered how long Roman would be stood there watching me. Not that I really minded. This was the first time we had been alone.

“Listen,” he said, “this may be incredibly inappropriate to ask, but I’d love to take you out for dinner some time.”

I looked up at him in shock. “Like...like a date?”

“Or a work dinner, whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”

I didn’t have to think about my answer, but I didn’t want to come off as too eager, so I thought for a moment before responding, “I’d like that.”

Roman smiled back at me. “Okay. You know my schedule, you can pick a time and a date that’s best for you.”

He turned to leave before pausing and turning back to me. “Just to be clear, are you saying you’d like it as a date or as a work dinner.”

I smiled smugly at him and responded, “You’ll have to wait to find out.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, amused, before walking back to his office. When I was sure he was gone, I did a quick dance of excitement in my chair before turning my full attention back to my work.

#Roman Godfrey #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey x reader #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard x reader #hemlock grove #hemlock grove imagine #netflix #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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deerestapologies · 4 years ago

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5 times you called him by a pet name + one time he called you by a pet name

(Diluc + Zhongli x GN!Reader)

Diluc

1. "Oh, hey hon." You greet mildly.

The candles have begun burning a bit low, the long shadows making his pout even more obvious.

"I apologize, I was held up for longer than anticipated."

He produces a small bouquet from his coat, a cluster of wildflowers, and approaches like he's about to give an offering instead of a gift. He kneels by your chair, face stoic as usual, but you can see the worry and shame in his eyes.

You twirl the stems to absorb their delicate scent, and then carefully drop them in your water glass. You cup his face in your hands, and press a kiss to his brow.

"It's okay." You kiss his brow again, "I am not mad." You kiss his nose. "I am hungry though."

You laugh lightly at his rush to sit across from you. An evening eating cold roast was worth being able to spend it with him.

2. "I understand your frustration, but perhaps we had best move on." You place a hand on his crossed arms.

"Their behavior was unacceptable, especially for those who would call themselves knights."

The stubborn clench of his jaw tells you just how angry he is. The idiots were lucky to have only gotten the verbal bludgeoning earlier instead of the literal one he wanted to dish out.

"Yes, but you've already made them apologize, and they do seem repentant," the fool knights in training nod frantically, "so why not leave this mess for Kaeya, darling?"

He sighs, but loosens his posture to wrap a protective arm around you. The hell the Knights were going to catch for this was still to come, but at least no one lost any limbs. Yet.

3. Tucked into your pile of pillows, book in hand, you waited as you do most nights. Diluc had a late meeting scheduled after dinner, but he promised it was truly to do with the winery and not of the vigilante variety.

So you bide your time, until you hear his heavy boots come up the stairs.

"I'm home." He calls softly.

"Welcome back." You say just as softly.

He goes through the motions of undressing, refreshing himself, and redressing without missing a beat, but his posture seems wilted. You mark your page, and turn over the blanket for him.

"How did it go?"

He heaves a deep sigh, and crawls over to you. Pulling you close, he lays his head on your chest but doesn't say another word.

"Oh, sweetness." You embrace him, one hand holding his face and the other in his hair. "It's okay. I've got you."

4. You lengthen your steps, but the increased pace doesn't seem to deter the boy following you. He isn't dangerous per se, but his persistence is damned annoying.

"But, if you'll just listen," he jogs back up to your side, "I just need your help for a little while!"

"I am neither a Knight nor an Adventurer," you cut him off with a sharp wave of your hand, "And you have nothing I want. Now leave me be."

He sputters, "M-master Diluc said-"

As if he's had his tongue plucked out, he suddenly stops talking.

You turn around only to find Diluc himself, a stifling hand on the kid's shoulder. His face is a stoic mask as always, but his energy is thunderous.

"I agreed to help you out of deference to your mother, but you," You see the boy wince as the hand tightens, "failed to listen to a word I said. Harassing my staff and my partner has only earned you banishment from all of my properties. Now go, before I report you to the Knights as well."

You both stand stock still as the boy sprints from the winery back to Mondstadt proper.

"Your going to report him anyways, right?" You mumble, after he is just a speck on the horizon.

"Of course," He finally relaxes his stance to look at you, "Though I doubt Jean will be happy about it."

Your chuckle, already imagining her face when the letter reaches her desk. Heaving a sigh, just grateful for the problem to have moved on, you grab Diluc's hand.

"Thank you," You pull him into a tight hug, "for protecting me as always, angel."

5. You gently rap on the door frame to his office. He looks up from his work just long enough to give you a soft smile.

"I was wondering," You lean against the frame, avoiding actually entering lest you get sucked in as well, "If my dear husband was going to come to bed tonight?"

The bright lamp on his desk means you see his blush even from across the room. He huffs an embarrassed laugh, but starts shuffling paperwork into orderly piles.

"I hadn't realized the time, my apologies."

You hum, "It is understandable. But I cannot rest if you are not in bed with me."

You watch as he tucks away his tools, pulls his gloves off, and undoes the tie in his hair, all with a much to pleased smirk on his face.

He pulls you into a delicate, lingering kiss with a hand on your neck. The warmth of his skin makes you shiver. You lean into him, letting him wrap you in his arms.

He chuckles, "Well, I would hate to neglect my husbandly duties."

1. The lingering warmth from your bath and the softness of the sheets has you dozing in minutes. You toss a hand onto Diluc's side of the bed, wanting to be present when he comes to bed as well but the ache of a long day is catching up to you.

After several moments you feel a calloused hand grasp your own. You are too tired to properly see, but feel the dip as he climbs into bed.

Still holding your hand in a delicate grip, he presses a kiss to your palm, and then your cheek.

"Sleep, my love, I am here."

Zhongli

1. Zhongli re-enters the house not even ten minutes after leaving. He is patting down his jacket and looking about the entryway in wonder, and you can't help but chuckle.

"Forget something?"

"Yes," he plants his hands on his hips, "I can't seem to find my wallet. I could have sworn I remembered it this time."

You get up from where you were leisurely awaiting his return, and snag the 'disappearing' wallet from where he left it on the table.

"Not quite, old man." You wave it, teasing.

"Ah, of course."

Tucking it into the pocket of his jacket, you tug him closer to plant a kiss on his flushed cheek.

"My apologies, it seems I was a bit distracted this morning."

He tucks a piece of hair away from your face, gaze so blatantly loving you can't help but crash your lips against his. Damn whatever appointment he may have, he shouldn't be so handsome in your direction.

2. It is not every day you wake up before him, so you try to make the most of it. You prepare his clothes for the day, just so you can pick out your favorite of his shirts. You start a light breakfast, and brew an energizing blend of tea for both of your sake.

You spend some time simply waiting at the table, content to sip your tea and watch the morning birds.

When the soft shuffle of feet brings Zhongli into the kitchen, you stand up. He is mostly dressed, minus his tie and shoes, jacket loose around his shoulders.

You steer him to the table, and press a kiss to his cheek when seated.

He hums contentedly, still a bit sleepy, "Good morning."

You pour him a cup of tea as well, and his smile grows a bit wider. He tilts his head up, "Thank you."

You meet him half way, pressing a firm kiss to his mouth, "Of course dearest. Do you have anything pressing today?"

A hand comes to rest on your hip, preventing you from moving back to your seat.

"No, nothing more important than this."

3. Squished between the mattress and the press of his body, you couldn't imagine being more content. The warmth, the scent, the feel of his breath ghosting across your skin.

You run a reverent hand through his hair, spread loose over his back. It seems impossible for you to be this happy, like you would only read about in unrealistic fantasies.

Amber eyes are already watching you, when you open yours. His gaze is soft, unbearably so, so you look at the ceiling.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He answers it so easily, as if it is among the many universal truths that exist in his head.

"You must understand," You wet your nervous mouth, "I mean it. Truly, I love you."

You feel his head tilt in confusion, but power on, emotions spilling.

"You are my starlight. My life would be unimaginably dark without you. I am scared constantly by the sway you have over me, but I cannot stand the idea of living without you. I want be here with you, forever, no matter the cost."

You squeeze your eyes shut against the flood of tears that threaten to spill, waiting for his polite retreat. His body lifts off yours and you pull a shuddering breath in, unused to laying yourself bare in this way. He could end you now, destroy you by just walking away.

But you feel tremoring hands grasp your face, almost too tightly. He doesn't say a word, can't, but presses his forehead to yours.

4. "Zhongli?" You call into the empty hum of the parlor, hoping it will carry to his office. It's not far, but he gets absorbed in his work easily.

You lean out the door a bit, and try to project your voice more, "Hey, honey?"

The door to his office clicks open, and his head pokes out. "Do you need assistance?"

"Yes, please," you adjust the pile of books in your arms, "Would you mind grabbing this other pile? A client requested reference material from just about every era, and I don't think I have the wing span to carry all of it."

He presses a quick kiss to your head, and scoops up the remaining books with no problem.

"Of course, would you like me to relieve you of those as well?"

"Not a chance, show off, you're gonna have to deal with the doors."

As if to prove your point, he balances the stack in one hand to hold the front door open for you, smile only slightly smug.

5. Given how busy your lives were, and his propensity for letting time fly, you figured he would forget again. It would not be the first anniversary he forgot, and you imagine it wouldn't be the last.

It's not like you could hold it against him, especially not when he was so earnest and loving all year round.

So your surprise was genuine when he led you, dressed in his best, to a private booth at Liuli Pavilion.

The food was made by the head chef, as a show of gratitude for Zhongli's long patronage (you send a quiet thank you to Childe), and the service superb. The evening is relatively quiet, you converse as normal but with the additional soppiness that comes from acknowledging romance.

You are especially glad for the privacy when you cannot help but practically ravish the man over the table, his face being too handsome to bear just looking at.

Shortly after, he looks at you with burning eyes, and finally says, "I am quite full. Perhaps we should head home."

"That sounds perfect."

You continue to stare, sappy and sated, as he blindly pats at his pockets, equally unwilling to look away.

After several moments, it dawns on you, and then immediately on him.

You can't help it. You laugh. Hysterically, because no matter what Zhongli is Zhongli.

He's standing now, flustered like you've never seen, pacing the room as if his wallet would be anywhere but the table at home.

"This was not my intent." He huffs, "I had planned the evening meticulously."

"And it was lovely," You choke back another laugh, "But, sugar, you are not living this down for the rest of our lives!"

You are laughing as you pull out your own wallet, giggling uncontrollably as you hand over all the money on your person, and can barely walk you're so light headed when he leads you out the door.

He doesn't once let you go, from the pavilion's steps to your front door. Indulgent to the end, your man.

1. It is always a pleasant surprise when your errands overlap. Working nearly in conjunction makes it happen quite often, but still, it makes your day brighter.

You have just finishing bartering your lunch into existence when you spot Zhongli headed your way. Quickly, you slip the chef a few more mora to add another dish.

He is at your side in an instant, bringing your hand to his lips in that coquettish way he has.

"There you are," he lowers your hand but does not drop it, "I've been looking for you, treasure."

You twine your fingers together, relishing the warmth. You snug up to his side, taking the liberty of placing his hand on your hip just to see him blush.

"Have you now?"

"Always."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc #genshin zhongli #(the chef after zhongli +1: excuse me this is a wendys)#an informal apology

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sconnie-doesnt-know · 4 years ago

Text

Ransom’s Hallmark Moment

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 4300

Warnings: Language, drinking, smut including unprotected sex (imagine that birth control), Ransom's bad attitude and Ransom being soft (what?!)

A/N: written for the Hoelentine's Day Challenge hosted by @chrissquares @amythedvdhoarder and @drabblewithfrannybarnes

My giftee is Heather @hevans-angel and I hope I've been able to fulfill some of your wishes you sweet lady!

So much appreciation for @stargazingfangirl18 and @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me and being so supportive and creative! Now, on to the fic!

Aside from the date on the calendar, it feels like a typical Sunday. You got a lot done around the house, allowed yourself some time to relax and baked enough for a small army. Wiping the last of the crumbs away, you proudly look over the pile of treats ready to be given out the next day at work - all sweet and sprinkled and festive in pink and red. Spending the day baking, relaxed and comfortable with old episodes of ‘Bewitched’ on for company is just what you needed before starting another week. Plus, you aren't really alone. There's always Andy.

The wind suddenly blows hard, shaking the windows. You glance outside at the darkened sky, noticing the heavy sheets of snow falling to the ground.

“Shit,” you hiss, making your way to the back door and opening it, “Andy!”

You wait a moment and shout again, “Andy! Come on in!” followed by a series of whistles.

Nothing.

“Oh no, no no please no, not again,” you whine, heading back into the kitchen to find your phone already ringing. You scrunch up your face in a grimace as you answer as sweetly as possible, “Hello?”

“Missing something?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, I was just about to call you.”

“Yeah, well, he’s here of course. If you don’t get here soon, I might call animal control.”

“You always say that, Ransom, but I know you like him. I’ve seen the water bowl and that old tennis ball by the front walkway.”

“That’s from the housekeeper.”

“Mmhmm, sure. You know I’ll be right there. I’m sorry.”

“Sure you are, see you soon angel.”

You scoff at the nickname. He’s always using a sweet one on you, while calling your dog something far less endearing like hellhound, or fleabag, or even Cujo. The first time he said that one, you looked over at your Lab/Husky mix, with his ears perked at attention and tongue lolling out from his dopey dog smile and laughed like you hadn’t in a long time.

Ransom was less amused.

For some reason, when you moved to the little cottage house set back into the woods, your dog decided to treat himself to adventures which almost always ended with him in front of the wall of windows at Ransom’s home smearing his nose, and drool and mud all over the panes of glass.

That first pickup was not encouraging. You’d been out searching and going down the long driveways of your neighbors to search until you found him at Ransom’s, sitting and thumping his tail against the ground and staring at Ransom through the window, who for his part, stood with his arms crossed and scowling down at your dog.

That was the first time he told you to keep him contained or he’d call animal control.

You gave him your number, begging him to call you instead if it happened again. After a few weeks the promise of calling animal control was more of a joke than a threat.

Half the time you were already on your way over, having noticed the dog had taken off, but the other half, it was a grumpy call from Ransom, complaining about being harassed by some wild beast. Apparently the ability to spin a tale was a family trait.

By the time you got there, Andy would usually be tired out from his little journey and be waiting for you to leash him, allowing you and Ransom to get caught up in conversation. And so began an awkward-sometimes tense-sometimes flirty almost-friendship with the man. You were equal parts grateful and pissed at Andy, because of course he would go out of his furry little way to make an ass of you in front of the most handsome man you’ve seen in real life. Tall, broad-shouldered, stoic and reserved, plus cocky to top it all off - the man was checking boxes left and right.

Weeks later, Ransom was still those things, but also sarcastic, witty, a bit playful and very charming when he was in the mood. You caught the appreciative looks he gave your body when you approached (not that he really tried to hide them), and you allowed yourself moments to linger on his features as well. Your little conversations on his front walkway almost always turned flirty, at least until Andy made his impatient presence known by tugging at the leash or barking to get your attention.

You pack up some cookies, cupcakes, and truffles you made to make some sort of peace offering, grab the leash, and head out to retrieve your little trouble-maker. The thick, wet flakes are heavy, and make the journey down the wood-lined roads slower than usual.

You pull up, squinting through the falling snow, unable to see Andy in his usual spot. You see Ransom walk through the house and to the door, waving you inside, so you hurry from the car, head ducked down to try to avoid the chill and wedge your way in, shaking away the snow once you feel the warmth inside.

“He’s in my garage,” he tells you in lieu of an actual greeting, moving away as you shake off the snow.

“What? You let him inside?”

“Not inside-inside, but yeah. I know better than to leave a pet out in that. Christ. And you know, I keep telling you, princess if you want to see me, you don’t have to keep sending that mutt over as an excuse.”

“Yeah, sure. But what a waste of all that training,” you quip back. It’s almost a routine at this point.

You roll your eyes when he gives you an over exaggerated, proud smile. You immediately want to roll your eyes again because of how good that stupid smile looks on him, too. Your gaze can’t help but travel up and down the length of him, long legs, slim hips that go up to those broad shoulders, all encased in a heavy sweater...with holes torn at the lower hem and at the stomach.

Without thinking, you rush forward to grab the frayed yarn cringing at the idea of needing to replace the expensive garment, “Oh no, did he do this? I know he gets jumpy when he’s excited.”

“No, he didn’t,” he wipes at the front of this stomach. “It’s fine. It’s just like that.”

He can’t even say anything else before you start with more apologizing and rambling, “I am so, so sorry. I swear I only left him out there for a few minutes so he could play in the snow, and he’s been so good. And here,” you thrust the package at him, “I made some food and I hope you have a sweet tooth, and I know it doesn’t make up for the inconvenience and-”

“What’s this?” he asks, shaking it slightly and breaking up your word vomit.

“Uh, it-it’s just like some cookies and stuff that I made.”

“What for?”

“For Valentine’s Day. I made a bunch of stuff because at work we’re doing a thing tomorrow, so-”

“No, I mean why are you giving these to me?”

“Oh,” you hadn’t thought you would need to explain, “Um, neighborly kindness? Gratitude? Because it’s Valentine’s Day?”

“Huh. Does this make you my Valentine?” He laughs and turns on his heel, walking away toward where you can see is the kitchen area.

“For some reason, you don’t strike me as the sweet and cuddly Valentine type,” you call after him, hearing him chuckle in response.

You wait in the foyer for what feels like too long, just listening as he moves around, opens and closes cabinets and goes on like you’re not there. You look around uncertain what you’re expected to do since you usually don’t make it past the doorway until you decide to pull off your boots and hang your jacket over a chair set near the door. You follow the path he made into the kitchen.

“Sooo. Like I was trying to say, I don’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, “I will just grab Andy and head on home.”

“You really wanna drive with that going on?” he gestures to the window. When you look, it’s practically a blizzard and your car is covered in a fresh, thick layer already.

“Shit,” you rub at the side of your face, nervous at the idea of navigating the roads, but just as anxious to not irritate the man staring you down from across the counter. “Not really. Where’s Andy? I wanna check on him.”

He points to a door down the hall. “Garage is through there.”

You make your way through the house with your jaw clenched, unsure with what you might find knowing that Ransom’s not exactly a fan of dogs. So opening the door he pointed to and finding your dog curled up on an old tarp with that familiar worn-out tennis ball, a full water bowl, all cozy and warm inside the otherwise empty garage is not what you expected at all.

Your dog lifts his head, tail thumping against the floor as you approach, but he seems worn out from his romp through the snow, so you let him settle down after making sure he’s alright and head back to Ransom in the living room. A small smile in place of your grimace from a few moments before.

“The garage is heated,” Ransom tells you from his seat on the couch. “Figured he’d be alright in there. Can’t do much damage.”

“That’s...that’s really great.” You’re caught off-guard by the thoughtfulness of it. “Thanks for setting him up. I’ll just wait until it slows down and head back out, don’t want to mess up any plans you had.”

He laughs at that, hard and loud. “No, in fact you and the mutt gave me the perfect out from a family thing.”

“Oh really, don’t let us keep you.”

“Oh no, I’m too busy being a hero during the snowstorm,” he answers dryly, letting silence hang in the air for a few moments afterward. “Drink?” he offers.

“A hero? That’s the excuse you’re giving them?” You try to wave off the drink offer, but then he points back outside.

“I think we’ve got some time on our hands. And yeah, makes for a great story, doesn’t it?” he chuckles to himself.

You glance back to the wall of windows, seeing nothing but swirling white and sighing, “Sure, might as well. But just to let you know, Andy might not be thrilled that you’re using him as an excuse.”

He smiles and gets up from the sofa to pour you each a glass, then turns back and holds yours out to you, “I know a girl, I think she might be willing to put in a good word for me.”

You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin and sit on the sofa when he does.

A little while goes by and despite the somewhat awkward start to the situation, he’s not bad company. Andy is still content with his set-up, nearly ready to tuck in for the night when you check on him again later. When you return, Ransom’s opened the box of goodies, happily making a dent in the whiskey dark chocolate truffles you piled in there.

“So, you’re sure we’re not interrupting anything? No lady or ladies or even gentlemen you planned to entertain?” You ask as you settle back onto the sofa, closer to the center. Ransom had ignited the fireplace while you were up, dimming the lights and letting the orange flames illuminate the space in front of you.

“Will you drop it already? Nothing aside from the usual family obligation to show up, deal with passive aggressive bullshit, then some outright aggressive bullshit, and watching the show when it all implodes. I am happy to let a pretty girl and her big, messy dog give me an excuse to stay home.”

You laugh, trying to brush off the compliment thrown in there, “Hard to believe you want to miss out on all that. Sounds like a real special time.”

“Very special,” he drawls. He wipes some crumbs off his fingers as he shakes his head before adding, “Trust me this is much better.” He tosses his arm over the back of the couch, letting it fall on your shoulders and force you to lean a bit further into him.

“Yeah,” you mutter as you look down to your feet and fumble a string of syllables of incomplete words as you try to remind yourself to not read too much into what he’s saying.

“Oh, come on.” He picks up the slack in the conversation when you still don’t manage to say anything else for a few moments, leaning into your space as he breaks the silence. “So, I finally have you all to myself and you’re gonna be shy for me?”

You look up at him, eyes wide and heat rising in your cheeks and chest. “What?”

The hand not wrapped over you reaches out and pushes your chin up, closing your mouth which dropped into an ‘o’ of surprise. His thumb slides up to trace at the pout of your lip.

“Please, baby girl. Neither of us is very subtle. I don’t really do romance, but we’ve got a fire going, we’re stuck in a snowstorm, and I’ve been wanting to get you all to myself since that mutt first showed up over here. If that isn’t some panty-soaking Hallmark crap right there, then I don’t know what is.”

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh right along with you. The tension has shaken loose and your smile is uncontrollable. It’s ridiculous - the scenario, his words, that he can read you so well, that he isn’t wrong.

“Hard to believe you don’t have women knocking down your door with all that to offer.”

“Just one woman, and her very stupid dog.”

“Hey,” you start in offense, but still move in when he does, smiling into the kiss. It’s chaste and soft for brief seconds before lips part and your tongues meet. His hands waste no time to pull you closer, tugging you along and making you shift on your knees until he pulls you over him to straddle his lap.

You’re grabbing at everything you can, bunching his thick sweater in your hands, then sliding up and down over his shoulders and biceps, appreciating how solid he feels beneath you. Until finally, you rake your fingers into his hair, ruffling it a bit and then grasping it tightly at the crown to pull his head back, drawing a short moan from his throat.

He tilts back into the pull and you lift yourself up higher on your knees to keep your lips together. When your hands finally let go, allowing him to ease the arch of his neck, you take your time sliding your body down against his torso, pushing your core over the hard bulge in his slacks.

“You gotta ride me, baby.” It sounds like an order, not an option.

Yes. You aren’t sure if you say it out loud, but you feel the air leave your lungs in a rush and your body quivers at just the thought. You don’t care if this is quick, or rushed, or frantic - it’s exactly what you want rightfuckingnow.

His palms rest at the edge of your hip bones, fingers spread and digging into your sides and just slightly pushing and pulling you to get some pressure where you feel that he’s hard.

You reach down, covering his hands with yours and pull them up your sides under your sweater, not so much encouraging as demanding that he move things along. He gets with the program quickly and pushes the sweater up, separating your lips long enough to take it off then pulling you back as quickly as he can. His hands find their own way to the clasp of your bra, making quick work of removing it as well and eagerly touching every inch of bare skin.

When you both start to pant, breaths coming out hard and shaky, he moves his lips to tickle the skin on your cheek, down to your jaw, along the curve there and onto your neck. He sucks at the sensitive skin, nibbling and dragging his teeth when he gets focused on a single sensitive spot that makes you whine out loud.

Your head hangs down to the side, letting him work his way down the column of skin there and sinking into the loose, ragdoll feeling as your body just gives in to every sensation of pleasure. His arms squeeze you against him while he keeps pushing his hips up and into you, teasing you with hints of pressure where you are starting to feel empty and needy.

“Yes,” you gasp, definitely out loud this time. “Yes,” over and over, every time he does something whether it is with his tongue, or his fingers - his blunt nails digging into the sides of your ribs to hold you tightly in place, or the twist of your hips as he lifts his own up against you.

It’s so much, and you’ve only just lost your shirt. It’s not worth waiting anymore. Your mind is set now to just get what you want.

You push away from him. He slowly comes to, eyes glazed and unfocused, a low mutter of “the fuck” slurred from his lips. Before he can reach for you, you lift off him. Your legs are shaky, but you stand as steadily as you can, undoing the button and zipper and pulling down your jeans and panties in a single push.

He watches for a second, then reaches behind him, gripping the neck of his sweater and hauling it up and over his head. He reveals almost exactly what you were hoping for - solid, defined muscles and smooth skin - but there’s more. Hair across his pecs and in a line down the center of his abs, and freckles dotting everywhere on his fair skin. You want to caress and trace every one, run your fingers along imaginary paths and press against him - but it can wait. It’s got to wait.

Impatiently, you kneel, kicking the legs of your pants away and shuffling forward to reach for his belt. His hands settle at his side, flexing, but letting you do what you seem to be compelled to do. You fling the ends of the belt apart and pull at the button and then the zipper, already salivating at the mingling scent of his cologne and sex.

He straightens his hips, lifting from the couch to allow you to shove his boxers and pants down his legs, his cock pulling with them, then bouncing back up once freed. It throbs, slightly bobbing with a rush of arousal and you can’t help but admire the thickness of it, the swollen head that glistens with smeared pre-come.

Heat burns over your skin, and when you look up at Ransom, he’s clearly feeling the same. His cheeks are flushed in patches of pink, his lips red, swollen, and parted as he lets out short, shaky breaths, hair hanging loose and disheveled. It’s more than you hoped for, and it’s disgusting how perfect he looks.

As much as you want to tease, to keep this view while you swallow him down and taste him, your pussy throbs. You promise yourself again to take more time with him later, to lick and suck and taste him the way you want, but you can’t resist at least a taste. You grab his shaft, leaning in to swallow him deeply - just once - and draw a shocked moan from him before pulling off and pushing up from your knees, humming at the taste of him.

“Damn, princess. I thought I was going to ruin you, but fuck, you’re good.” He reaches forward as you’re moving up, his hand grabbing at the back of your head to guide you. He pulls a bit at your hair when you’re back up to the couch and spreading your thighs wide over his. His free hand reaches between your legs swirling through your wet, sensitive slit and pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit.

“Later,” he promises, “I’m gonna taste your pussy. Gonna lick it all up.” He pulls his hand away and sucks away your juices as they drip down his fingers. The promise is so dirty it makes your breath shake in anticipation. You stare into each others’ eyes, admiring the wreckage between you and moving without guidance to seat yourself on top.

You gasp when you finally feel the hot, hard line of him pressed against your pussy. It feels so thick, and you’re eager to feel the stretch of him pushing inside. You lock your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts together, nipples peaking as they drag along the coarse hair on his chest.

The lips of your pussy spread over his cock, coating him with your slick. His cockhead rubs over your clit, making you shudder and suck in stuttering breath, and that’s it. You can’t take it anymore.

“Can I have your cock?” Deep down, you know you don’t really need to ask.

“Yeah,” he adjusts his hips, scooting himself out a little further to give you more room to settle against him. “You’re gonna fucking ride me, princess. Come all over me.”

“Uh huh,” you breathe out, high and airy.

He takes one hand off you, using two fingers to angle his cock toward you. You lift up on your knees, tipping your hips until you feel him against your entrance. You pause for a brief second to ready yourself, then sink down, taking him all in at once.

The stretch makes you groan, the static-like buzzing mix of ache and pleasure spreading all over and making you throw your head back and deepen the moan.

He huffs out a few quick breaths. “That’s it, oh that pussy is so good. So fucking good, princess,” he mumbles.

Then his hands are back on your hips, warm against the bare skin and strong when he digs the tips of his fingers in to pull you further down, “This cock filling you up? Huh?”

All you can manage is another high-pitched, “Uh-huh,” while you start to roll your hips, barely lifting as you shift back and forth to grind against him, your walls still squeezing him tight.

“Come on, let go, baby,” he whispers, his mouth tight against your ear. Your arms loosen their grip around his neck and you place your hands instead on the muscles flexing at the tops of his shoulders.

You move your knees to get them comfortable and then finally push yourself off him, sliding and gasping as you feel the head of his cock catching just at your entrance again, and after another silent beat, you slide back down, taking his hard length again.

With the space given, he dips his mouth to your breasts, swirling and suckling at your nipples, Harsh, fast sucks followed by quick nips when he catches the hard peaks in between his teeth until you gasp and moan. Only then does he switch it up, his tongue gently rolling over the bud, soothing the stinging ache.

All the while you roll your hips and the burn, the push, the fullness of him inside you is drugging. Your eyes fall closed as you focus on the steadily growing tingle low in your belly.

You start to chase it with slow, dragging strokes, easing up only to drop down and have him bottom out deep inside. It builds fast, making your thighs burn and knees ache as you try to keep your position; one knee has managed to wedge into the corner of the couch and the rhythm needed to build your orgasm conflicts with the concentration needed to keep yourself steady.

“Just take it, babygirl. I got you,” he whispers, feeling your body getting tired on top of him.

He shifts his legs, placing his feet on the ground and pushing up into you, letting you settle on his lap and rock yourself forward and back while his cock stays buried in you. He adjusts his hands to rest just at your tailbone, pressing you steadily against him and giving the pressure needed to your clit when you press against his pubic bone.

Cries start to escape from you, first quiet and breathy, but then building as the air gets pushed out in hard breaths. Your body inches closer and closer to that release, your body hot and burning and there’s a slight moment of too much just before it hits...and then it’s rushing over you - all liquid fire and bliss. You clamp down over him, legs straining over the tight muscles of his thighs.

He pushes up into you, his hands pressing harder at the middle of your back to keep you moving through your release as he works to find his. He hisses through clenched teeth, broken praises coming out on hard breaths.

“Yeah...There...Righthere...God...Fuck.”

When he curls into you, nails digging into your soft skin and breathing heavy against your chest, you know he’s right there.

“Come for me,” you whisper.

“God - yeah!” With one final, hard thrust, he does. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside you when he releases, his hips jerking up slightly to keep pushing into you while the tense features of his face soften with relief.

For a moment it’s nothing but panting breaths and the racing beat of your pulse in your ears. Then it’s slow, dragging hands across naked skin and muscle, soothing the tense muscles and tickling sensitive spots and whispering praise to the man beneath you while he hugs you tight to him.

His voice is low and quiet as he asks, “Is the mutt gonna be mad that I stole his Valentine?”

“You like me,” you smile against his neck and tease him with a sing-song voice, “And you like my dog.”

“I like you,” he agrees. “The dog’s okay, too.”

“Does that mean Andy should come harass you again on Friday night?”

“I’ll even get a dog-sitter.” He says with a smirk. “Let him know that 7 would be good.”

Tags: @jtargaryen18 @ozarkthedog @wi-deangirl77 @angrythingstarlight @donutloverxo @navybrat817 @saiyanprincessswanie @sweeterthanthis @sagechanoafterdark @tuiccim

#happyhoelentinesday2021 #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale fanfiction #knives out fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale imagine #valentine's day #soft!ransom drysdale #ooc ransom #he's soft for his girl #that's just how it goes

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youamongthemelissas · 3 years ago

Note

hi mwah <3

may i have a scenario with zoro being a brat who doesn't want to go down on his girl, but she just puts in his place by sitting on his face? 👀

ara ara, it seems that the fifteen hours I've been sleeping have made me reap the rewards uwu

well, I really hope you like the result and that those 3,3k words make up for the delay in my writer's block. i've only reviewed it a few times because i'm really really sleepy right now, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes! :(

warning: oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, face sitting, etc. only for +18. smut everywhere

Zoro and I had known each other for almost two years, but he changed his position from hookup to boyfriend two months ago. Our chaotic relationship started at a horrible party. Everything that night was horrible, except when the handsome guy approached me offering his help when some ramshackle human being spilled water on my shirt. To complete my disaster, the outfit I wore was white and cotton, so it marked the contours of my breasts just right. Damn day I decided to leave my house without wearing a bra. Too embarrassed, I just crawled into the bathroom – which didn't even have a lock – and waited for the crowd to dwindle or for my shirt to dry so I could get out of that unhealthy place. But fate didn't have the best plans for me, as I saw the bathroom door open and a man enter that cubicle.

"This is the ladies' wc, you know?" I informed the guy angrily.

“I know,” he replied simply. "I saw the whole scene, so I decided to come make sure you're okay."

I arched my brow and stared at him with half-closed eyes. Was he feeling okay? I looked for signs of drunkenness in him, but his voice was steady and he looked too sober.

“Very nice of you, but you can't just lock yourself together with a strange woman in a cubicle. You know, I can interpret this as sexual harassment!” I snapped.

“Oh, fine. I was going to lend you my shirt so you could wear it and wouldn’t have to wait for yours to dry, but I see you don't need my help. Bye and sorry for the inconvenience,” and so he left, not giving me a chance to respond.

I cursed the Universe, but then I stopped myself because a tarot reader had informed me that a situation like this could happen throughout the week and I didn't listen. In the end, it was my fault for being a stubborn and skeptical one.

I really couldn't tell how long I was locked in that fetid cubicle, but when my t-shirt dried enough not to leave me practically naked from the waist up, I walked out and saw the same guy as before, he was talking to a red haired girl, actually it looked more like an argument was going on between them by his annoyed expression and her restless gestures. Would she be his girlfriend? Was the discussion focused on me and the bathroom incident? Well, I wouldn't stay there to find out and risk getting hit by the girl for something that wasn't my fault. He was the one who entered the ladies' room with an unknown woman!

And my disastrous night ended when I lay in my bed and turned off the light to finally sleep and erase all memories of the party from my head. But that boy's face has not left my mind.

The days followed normally, and when I was already forgetting the cool guy, I saw him for the second time in a bakery. He wore the same shirt that day of the party and sweatpants. His sleepy face gave away that he had just woken up and had just left the house to go buy bread for breakfast. He saw me but pretended not to. I got the feeling I should have apologized for the misunderstanding, but he was already making the request. Luckily, we were assisted together as soon a second attendant appeared who assisted me as well.

As soon as we paid the bill, we silently left the place and I got a chance to talk to him as we were heading in the same direction.

“Hey,” I called him, being ignored. "Boy, wait a minute"

“What is it, girl?”, he snapped at me sharply.

“I wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding… Seriously, I was just freaked out by a guy walking me into the bathroom…”, I was sincere.

"It's all right. Go on with your life in peace.”

“And you had a girlfriend, right? Like, you were still wrong in the end…” I couldn't hold my mouth before needling him.

This time he stopped abruptly and turned to me, making me smack my face into his chest.

"Girlfriend? First you accuse me of sexual harassment and now besides being a harasser you think I'm a traitor?”

“I didn't accuse you of anything! Except the girlfriend part. You and that red haired girl seemed to be fighting really bad, like boyfriends do,” I clarified.

“Redhead girl?” he seemed to search his memory for what I was referring to. “Nami? God forbid me dating that devil woman! She's not my girlfriend, and we were fighting because…”, he stopped mid-explanation. “This is none of your business, girl. But she's not my girlfriend,” he ended the pseudo-argument.

I nodded and went on my way.

“How long will you follow me? Now I can interpret that you're a deranged stalker”, he told me right after we turned down the same street, after walking close for a few meters.

“I'm not following you, my house is on this way”, I replied.

And that's how I found out that we lived in the same condominium.

Although I clearly remember the first two times we met, I can't say when exactly we started to change our cat-and-mouse relationship and elevate it to a more intimate one. Maybe it was when he fucked me for the first time in the laundry room in the building. I was taking my clothes out of the machine while he put his clothes in another one, and then we looked at each other and as if we had the same idea, he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me up to put me sitting on top of the machine he had just finished stuffing with his own clothes, putting it to work and taking me in a kiss while taking off my panties. When he entered me, I moaned loudly, but the sound was drowned out by the shrill noise of that old machine. Zoro confessed to me later that he chose precisely that one so my moans could not be heard. I think it was the most insane thing I did, because at any moment someone could come and catch us, but luckily for us that only happened after Zoro had cum on my thighs and taken me off that old thing. It was weird walking with my legs sticking together because of his cum, but I didn't have time to clean up, just lift my panties and straighten my skirt before passing the newcomer, who didn't seem to have noticed our presence.

After our first sex, we didn't get apart anymore. We couldn't be alone as we caught fire and had sex wherever we were.

As time went by, we calmed down and our meetings became more spaced, but our chemistry didn't extinguish even a little bit during these almost two years, on the contrary, it only earned us the beginning of dating. And we became more than just hookups, we became friends too, those who know about each other's lives and I got to know Nami, the red-haired friend he was fighting that night at the party. I came to discover that they could never be boyfriends, because she loved money and women.

Everything with Zoro was almost perfect. He was a good boyfriend, and even though we're two hotheads, we never fought. There are always dialogues in our relationship and this helps a lot to avoid unnecessary fights. Besides, sex is wonderful, everything just right, except for one small thing that bothers me. We combine a lot in bed, I always try to please him and give him pleasure at all times. I've lost count of how many blowjobs I gave him and how many times I let him cum in my mouth, but the problem is that he never even gave me oral sex. And that makes me a little frustrated and scared. Was the problem with me? I took good care of myself, but he always shifted position when I tried to get him down on me.

One day, while I watched him playing his favorite game, I stroked his hair.

“Babe?”, I called him.

“Hm?” he mutters, not moving an inch.

“Do I disgust you?” I asked bluntly.

"What? Where did you get this ideia?”, he turns abruptly to face me, doing something wrong in the game because soon there are some curses directed at him in the chat.

“It's just a question.” I shrugged.

“It can't be just a question. For you to ask me that, there's definitely a reason behind it,” he replied, no longer looking at the TV screen, and not realizing that he was being offended by the other players. Damn virgins.

“Nevermind…”, I hesitated, unable to let myself be affected by the comments, which weren't even for me. "Your game friends are very angry with you."

"Fuck them, the issue here is you.", he held my face with both hands, making me look at him. “Tell me what made you think about it,” he looks deep into my eyes, almost reading my soul and I immediately regret opening my mouth. But it was too late, lying was out of the question, because he knows very well when I lie, so I had no choice but to tell the truth.

“You never gave me an oral. So I deduced that the problem is with me”, I said at last and he let me go.

It was his turn to shift the focus to another corner.

“It's nothing to you, it's me who is the problem. I've never done that to any women, and in the movies I see them “squirt”, what if that happens?” He looked a little frustrated and embarrassed.

I got up from my seat and stopped standing in front of him, making him glare at me.

“You have to stop thinking real life is a big porn movie, Roronoa,” I said, putting my index finger on his forehead. “I really admire you knowing how to fuck without looking like a caveman”, I said that last sentence more to myself.

“Hey!” he heard and seemed offended. "It hurts, okay?"

“Sorry, but that is nothing but the truth”, I rolled my eyes.

Even though he didn't suck me when we had sex later, the seed of doubt was already planted in his head.

I know this, because days later he was more committed to making me cum. Before he seemed to care only about his pleasure, but after our conversation, he even put his fingers to work on my clit – which were presented by me –, as he moved in and out of me, until I came on his fingers. It felt good, but I wanted to feel his tongue down there, and wanted to see his head between my legs. I wanted so badly to squirm in pleasure beneath him as he sucked everything I had to offer him.

When the dream day finally arrived, all my thoughts turned opaque as I felt him hug me from behind and lean his body against mine as his lips found the skin of my neck.

“Do you know how hot you look wearing my shirt?” he asked huskily, pressing me closer to his body, making my ass fit into his crotch. And I already felt it was hard. "Even more so I know you're not wearing anything under it."

I couldn't hold back the moan as I felt his fingers travel up my waist until they reached my breasts under the fabric. He squeezed it first and then circled the nipple with his finger, making it hard. He knew how sensitive I was in that area. And to my delight, he lowered his other hand to between my legs, and slid it to find my sex, which was already starting to get wet.

When I was in his apartment, I liked to have just one piece of clothing. Walking around his house half-naked was one of the most satisfying things for me, because I knew that anytime we were going to get laid and being too undressed would get in the way of the process. So I opted to wear just a pair of panties or a T-shirt with nothing underneath, as was the case now.

He removed his hand from my body and pulled me away, but only to pick me up and take me to his bed, where he laid me down and leaned over me and started kissing me.

His kiss tasted like the whiskey he drank a few minutes ago. I ran my hands over his body and scratched him lightly on his back, inside his shirt. He ended the kiss and rolled off of me, but only to undress. I watched the scene intently, looking at each piece of skin that was revealed to me little by little. When he took off his underwear and his cock popped out, I felt my mouth water. He was there in front of me, completely naked.

I got rid of his t-shirt I was wearing and crawled until I was close to his body, took his hard member in my hands and started masturbating before putting it in my mouth. Unconsciously, I reared my hips up, and ran my tongue over the glans, tasting the pre-cum. Without waiting, I felt him lean over to smack my ass, and it made his cock almost hit my throat, making me gasp. I pulled it out of my mouth, gasping for air, but went back to sucking on it. When I relaxed, I put him in one piece and this time I got used to that intruder so deep, and I heard him grunt. He loved when I swallowed him like that, but before I could make him cum, he gently withdrew from my mouth and lay down on the bed, turning me to stand beside him.

He kissed me again and wrapped his hands around my waist and slid them to my ass, where he slapped my ass, making me moan into his mouth.

We made out until he was on top of me, making me feel his hard cock on my thigh as he kissed my neck and played with my nipples.

I was already throbbing with lust, and it got worse when he slid his fingers to my clit and touched his fingertip to that sensitive spot, making me arch into him. But he did nothing but tease me, and I wanted him to use his tongue this time to bring me to orgasm. For that reason, I forced his head down and he got the message, surprisingly trailing kisses down my body, but before he got there he stopped and returned the kisses to where they were before, leaving me frustrated.

I sighed in annoyance, and shifted our positions, getting on top of him. I positioned myself right on top of his cock, and I fit my pussy there, not to slide him inside, but to rub myself there. He liked my boldness a lot, but I abruptly left the place until I was positioned right in his mouth. I felt him startle under me, but it was too late because I was already sitting pretty well in his face, with my cunt snug in the place where I always wished it was. He showed no resistance, just ran the tip of his tongue over my clit and I closed my eyes, sighing.

At first, he was stuck and a little lost, but little by little he got used to it and now his whole tongue passed through my intimacy, sometimes sucking painfully. It was good for me and it was good for him too, because I felt him grip my thighs tightly, holding me in place as he penetrated me with his tongue. I saw stars. When he smeared the entire place and when my body showed signs of the first orgasm, nimbly and using a little force he took me off him and put me back on the bed, with my back to the mattress. I thought he had given up, but he again slid down my body and positioned himself between my legs, giving me that wonderful sight. Again he pressed his tongue against my clit.

Seeing him there, with his head buried in the place I'd always dreamed of, made a fire burn in my stomach, and my brain worked tirelessly on the new sensations his mouth was gaving me me.

And he looked very committed and thirsty. He was like someone who had gone days without even a drop of liquid and who had just found an inexhaustible source of pure water. And I was that source. And just the thought of having him thirsty for me was enough to give my boner more ammo and make my hips start working nimbly, looking for more contact. Zoro shaved every day, but there were already two that he didn't shave, so the growing hairs scraped the inside of my thighs when I moved my hips, leaving goose bumps.

His tongue explored every corner of my intimacy and his arms closed tightly around my legs as he brought one hand to one of my breasts and rested it there, squeezing every now and then as my body showed signs of orgasm.

He didn't let go of me when I came for the first time or when I screamed for the second. Instead, he circled my waist with his arms and held me immobile in place as he sipped every drop that dared escape from me. He showed no signs of satiating even when I scratched his shoulders or slapped him in the arms to get him to let go. In fact, it felt like it was just an extra boost for him when I was on the verge of madness, writhing in his mouth and thrashing around aimlessly for support and control of the spasms in my body.

He was both a sadist and a masochist at the same time, which is why I was so attracted to him.

When he released me, I was almost voiceless and completely shaky. I wouldn't be able to form an intelligible word, and his playful smile, which I saw blurred due to the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes, gave away his satisfaction at seeing me in that state.

When I finally composed myself and my heart stopped beating in my chest, pulse, and throat, I took a deep breath and stared at him. He was lying beside me, looking at me and running his hand down my face, lovingly.

“You look beautiful when you're coming”, was the first thing he said.

“You look handsome between my legs”, I returned the answer in the same tone.

He smiled and massaged his jaw, as if in pain.

“Too bad it takes so long to cum, my chin hurts”, he complained and I rolled my eyes.

“You didn't leave me after my first orgasm,” I accused. “For those who were afraid of giving me oral sex, you seemed to enjoy it a lot”, I continued, with a pout.

“I had no idea you were that tasty,” he said, smiling slightly. “Now you better get ready, because your taste has gone straight to the top of my favorite flavors”, he assured me, as he pulled me by the waist to glue my body to his.

I kissed his lips softly, and touched our foreheads, and he kissed me again, obscenely. It didn't take me long to be on my knees for him, determined to reward him for the multiple organs he gave me.

Seeing him from above, with his eyes closed and his expression filled with pure delight, made me want to feel his cock in the back of my throat to the point of gasping for air. But he refused to cum inside my mouth. He lifted me up and positioned me on all fours on the bed and placed the condom on his cock.

When he sank into me, I moaned loudly, too happy that my sex life with my boyfriend was perfect.

#zoro x reader #one piece boys #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #zoro imagine

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dxrkdreamer · 3 years ago

Text

How I nearly killed Sukuna... A narrative (Yuji x Reader x Sukuna Crack)

Part 1/?

Word count: 1.3 k

Genre: crack and a bit of fluff and a bit of angst and a sprinkle of crazy

Warnings: mentions of blood and a car accident

A/N: Hi everyone! This was inspired by the show Dead to me (if you haven’t watched it you’re missing out *cries*) and I thought it would be fun to write my own version of the story but with men from JJK.

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

“Ugh I’m a grown fucking adult why am I being treated like a fucking 5 year old!” you yelled to yourself in your car, the angsty music blaring loudly. Yep, what a great way to start your day at 6 am. You had gotten into a dispute with your mom when you came downstairs in the early hours of the morning to bake muffins. And now you were rage driving down a forested path just off your town, it was a common path for early morning joggers because it was peaceful and usually vehicle free. And usually free of crazy girls driving above the speed limit.

You had finished your final year of your undergraduate, and like most you had no idea what the heck you wanted to do with your life. So you came back to the town you grew up in…. To live with your parents until you figured something out, or atleast found a job related to your field. Annoyingly enough, most of the kids in your highschool seemed to have come back too, and you ran into a few familiar faces, much to your dread.

“First fucking Mai has the audacity to tell me I dress like I’m stuck in the 90s, then my mom has to say I should slow down on my fucking eating. I’ll eat whatever the fuck I want, its not hurting anyone!” you rambled on “The 90s had good fashion! And my outfit was cute! And I’m trying to grow my booty, ofcourse I’ll gain some fucking weight- WOAH” you yelped swerving your car as you hit… a deer, shutting your eyes tightly as your car came to a halt. Praying that it was a pink deer you hit. Okay, breathe in, breathe out (Y/N), you gulped opening your eyes as you stepped out of the car. Your shaky legs carried to the scene as you repeated the deer mantra.

“It was just a pink dear that was standing on its hind legs… s’okay it's just a possibly dead-”

You froze as you felt your soul leave you, and it seemed even the angel of death was disgusted by you and had thrown your soul back into your body as your vision cleared and your mouth started trembling.

“A possibly dead Sukuna….” well fawk “Yeah no way am I getting caught for this” and with adrenaline pumping in you and a new found strength in your legs, you jumped in your car and drove off to the nearest clearing, hopping out and jogging back towards the body, pulling out your phone.

“Hello, 911 what’s your emergency”

“Hi! There's, uhhh there's-” you stuttered as reality was hitting you in waves as you stared down at the horror “There’s a body… It’s still breathing and there's a lot of blood…”

-----

You drove back home in silence, and went straight to your bed without uttering a word to your family.

You were terrified because you almost killed a man. Fucking Sukuna of all men. He was the very handsome high school bully. Very loved and feared. “He had it coming from someone anyways” you grumbled, he had definitely harassed and made at least half the student body cry. He was two years older than you and relentless as ever.

Second, you lied to the fucking cops. And you were the first witness on the scene. They wouldn’t call again would they? You gulped hiding under the covers. I need to leave town! You thought, but as you checked your bank account you realized without a job it was not ideal to do.

“Ughhhhhh, I almost killed a man holy shit” you groaned, slumping and hiding deeper. “I can’t leave my house ever again” The dread settled in and pulled you deeper into your guilty consciousness and you felt like you would throw up for the millionth time today.

That lasted about 3 days until you realized you were hungry and wholesome home cooked meals were not cutting it. You needed fat and sugar.

“All dressed chips or… barbecue” You wondered, your thumb played with your lip as you analyzed your options “or maybe even cheetos?” It may be awhile until you leave your house again so you piled all three in your arms, your basket already full of other goodies. You took another glance at the aisle as you began walking down towards the checkout, passing by the produce section “And I guess strawberries…. For health” you grumbled picking up the small container, barely able to balance your basket, the chips and berries in your two hands.

“Almost there… almost there” You kept walking, rounding the corner and-

“Fuck! Ouch!” You groaned as someone’s cart banged against you and you dropped your chips, much to your horror, oh and dropped the berries too that were now crushed under the cart’s wheel, staining the floor in red, almost like blood... you grimaced.

“I’m so sorry I should have watched where I was going! Are you okay! Again, I’m so sorry!” you heard a familiar voice and saw a tuft of pink hair crouching down to pick up your items. And for a second time you felt what it was like to have your soul leave your body, and then be rejected and thrown back down.

“Uh, it’s okay” You mumbled, grabbing the things from his hand, turning around, ready to run away and never come back.

“Hey, wait (Y/N)?” he grabbed your elbow turning you around to face him “Hey! How are you?! Did you forget about me already!” he smiled brightly and then pouted at the end.

Dear God…. “What! Yuji! Sorry I couldn’t recognize you for a sec!” You cringed at how shrill your voice must have sounded. “How’s uhh..” How’s Sukuna? “How was university? Are you back too?”

“Oh yeah, I just came back a few days ago, I was looking for a job where I was living before but my brother sort of... got into an accident” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh I heard” Shut the fuck up for two seconds please “I mean, I saw him on my morning jog” I hit him I’m so sorry I’m such a pussy.

“You what” his eyes were wide “Were you the one who called? Oh my God, thank you so much (Y/N)! He’s probably only alive because of you!” He gasped and pulled you in for a hug.

He’s also almost dead ‘cuz of me… You shook your head and hugged him back, wrapping your arms around him back and pulling him in tightly and rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder. “Yuji…” you mumbled about tearing up, his strong arms and warmth soothed you and you wanted to rest your head against his chest and confess your sins. But he had enough before you could open your mouth and pulled away shortly after apologizing for his outburst.

“It’s no problem Yuji, How is he anyways…” You asked, biting your lip nervously.

“Well, he’s alive” he chuckled dryly “but he’s in a coma, but the doctors said he’d wake up soon, hopefully” you noticed how he was clenching his fists in his pockets. “If anything he probably had it coming anyways” he laughed

“That's what I thought too!” You yelled and then covered your mouth from embarrassment of your inappropriate outburst, but Yuji just looked at you and burst out laughing even harder.

And his next words hit you hard.

“Wanna hang out? I could use the company, my parents are driving me mad” he shyly asked, trying to act casual about it.

And for the nth time today your mouth spoke without permission “Sure! That sounds great!”

#sukuna x reader #yuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #yuji itadori #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk crack #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen crack #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuji itadori

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spencers-dria · 4 years ago

Note

Can you maybe write something where the reader meets spencer in prison and when they get out, they meet up and they have really rough and kinky sex like you can literally go as dirty and kinky as you want

Four Feet Apart

🎉150 follower celebration! Day 6

Spencer x fem reader

Content/Trigger Warnings: 18+ Smut, oral female receiving, anal play, blindfold/sensory play, and handcuff/restraint use, protected penetrative sex, mentions of murder, prison

The beginning is a little angst, little fluff, plenty of smut!

“Alright inmates, listen up! There’s been some budget cuts. For the time being, the old west wing building will be taken by overflow from the women’s prison.”

The guard’s voice was overtaken by wolf whistles and hollers.

“That’s enough! Now you will not share a building with them. You will not see them during meals. However the courtyards do share a fence. If you are caught harassing them in any way, you will be punished accordingly!”

The announcement had caught the attention of just about every inmate, except one. Spencer Reid had bigger problems to worry about than women. He didn’t get them outside of prison, so why should he worry about them on the inside. He needed to worry about how to stay safe, stay alive until his name was cleared. That is, until he met you.

_______________________________________

I sat on the bleachers, popping some bubble gum as I searched for some worthwhile eye candy. The sun was a bit hot so I shrugged my button down off my shoulders, opting to tie it around my waist, leaving me in a white tank. This of course leads to many wondering eyes and a few whistles from the men’s side of the fence. I’m not even sure what i’m looking for, but none of the men giving me the time of day have it. I finally notice a slender man sitting on the men’s bleachers, just a few feet away from the fence on his side. I scoot up , slipping my fingers through the women’s chain-link side. Of course I could never touch any of them, with each side having about four feet between their respective fences. But there were no rules against looking or talking even.

“Hey. Think too hard and you’re gonna mess up that pretty face of yours.”

He looks up a bit startled, but his posture changes once his gaze lands on me. He almost looks shy, which seems in direct contrast to his rugged look. But once I look in his eyes, I see depth and warmth and kindness that belongs far away from this place, and it hurts me for a moment, to think of what will happen to him here.

“I don’t bite. The name is Y/L/N. Got in for killing my ex husband. How about you?”

He blinked, speechless at first.

“Doc- I’m uh, Spencer Reid. They think I killed someone too…”

“Well, didn’t you?”

He shook his head. Based on the look in his eyes, I want to believe him I really do.

“Did you know that incarceration of women has been growing at twice the rate of men’s incarceration?”

“Now how in the world would you know that?”

He simply shrugged.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just looked like you could use some company is all.”

He looked like he wanted to respond, he really did. But before he got the chance, the women were called back inside.

I give a quick salute. “Nice meetin ya Spencer Reid. See ya when I see ya.”

___________________________________________

The next time I saw him he looked different. Scared, fragile, and a bit bloodied up.

“Hey- what uh- I mean, are you okay?”

He refused to look up or give much of an answer. But he was sitting in the same spot, close enough for us to have another conversation so I have to believe he wanted to talk again.

“I’m guessing you’re relatively new. It happened to me too ya know. Especially when I wouldn’t just go along with everything they asked.”

That drew his attention, and I could see tears in his eyes.

“You can’t let them see they get to you, that you’re scared. I learned that long before I got here though. That’s why I killed him ya know- he hurt me and I couldn’t just take it anymore. Police wouldn’t listen. I just wanted it to stop.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I shrugged it off. I’m paying my time but I’m safer in here than I ever felt with him.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Now he has my attention. I nod, trying not to seem too excited to be sharing schoolyard secrets with the handsome stranger.

“I uh, was in the FBI. I was framed by a, well you can almost call her an arch nemesis of sorts.” He laughed to himself. It was a warm sort of laugh that filled me with butterflies. “I was just trying to get medicine for my mom. She has Alzheimer’s and schizophrenia. She was getting worse and I-“ his words are quickly cut off by the sounds of sniffles.

“Why are you telling me this?” I don’t mean it to be rude, but I had to know.

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people and- you’re not a bad person. I trust you.”

In that moment, our eyes met again, but something new was there. Desire? Lust? Caring? Who knows. But that was the start of something. Of daily meetings, and quiet longing.

Day after day we would sit by our fences, sharing stories of our lives before prison. I learned that he was kind, hard-working, and actually quite funny. Spencer Reid was the best company I’d had in years, and not just within the prison walls.

He also told me about the rough time of it he was having on his own side. I gave him pointers where I could. How to get in with the right people, how to avoid the wrong ones, and how to get himself safe when necessary.

At one point, the politics on his side did endanger his life, and that’s when we came up with the plan together. A plan that would help take down the very man targeting him while getting Spencer somewhere safe for now. This meant I wouldn’t see him while he was in solitary, but we both knew it was necessary.

We never spoke about exactly what it was we wanted but- it was there. We devoured one another with our eyes. Biting and licking lips, drawn out breaths, and lingering gazes. We knew.

I watched him change overtime. His hair and beard grew yes, but so did this darkness in his eyes. The soft, Bambi-eyed boy was seemingly gone, replaced by a man who needed to hurt someone, anyone. And oh was I ready to let him hurt me.

I waited by the fence each day for his return, but it never came. I finally decided to ask around until I heard something that thrilled me but also left a huge gaping hole in me.

“He left.”

I couldn’t be happier for him. Had they cleared his name? From the sound of it, federal agents, friends of his had come to retrieve him. I could only hope that he was safe and happy.

Then one day I received a letter.

Dear Y/N,

I miss you. Just you. You made my time there worthwhile, worth missing. There’s so much more I wanted to say to you, and a letter just won’t do it justice. I have a feeling you’ll be out on parole sooner than you think. Come find me when you can. I’ll be in D.C..

Counting the days,

Spencer

____________________________________________

Parole? I had at least another year before that could even be a consideration. But I started counting too, which didn’t last long. Imagine my surprise when I got out on parole only two weeks after receiving the letter.

Did he- no he couldn’t, could he? Spencer had been gone for months. Clearly he had cleared his name, thank goodness. I knew I needed to see him as soon as possible.

I couldn’t leave the state, but luckily I didn’t need to. With what little I had, I made my way to D.C.. I figured I’d start out at the return address on the envelope, the one I clung to like my life depended on it.

With a bag slung over my shoulder, I raised my hand with the letter to hesitantly knock on the door, completely unsure of what to expect on the other side.

My mouth fell open at the sight before me. Spencer Reid in a cardigan, a tie? I had never seen him outside the prison. He looked so put together. And all I could think about was how much I wanted to tear him apart. I did my best to suppress my lust in hopes of a civil and normal greeting.

I don’t know what I expected. Tears, hugs maybe? We stood there staring at each other for who knows how long before I finally spoke. I’d had a well rehearsed speech in my head. One I’d had two whole weeks to work on since he sent the letter. But that all went out the window the second I saw his face again.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Who was I kidding? We could see it in eachother’s eyes, the same desire from before, but stronger somehow. Maybe because it was quite literally within reach. Months of daydreaming about what it would feel like to touch him, kiss him, get absolutely railed by him.

The man I had met initially was so gentle, timid. I watched him change in that prison. I had initially imagined ruining him, breaking him for my own pleasure. By the time he left I wanted something completely different. I wanted him to do the breaking. I wanted him to use me for his own personal pleasure. And he knew it.

He grabbed my face to pull me in for an all consuming kiss that quite literally took my breath away. I had to pull back, gasping for air before I could get any words out.

“Missed you too.” I smiled.

“Can we take this to my bedroom?” The words came out rushed, as though he might die if he couldn’t have me in that very moment.

I give an enthusiastic nod. A small squeal and uncharacteristic giggle leaves my lips as he scoops me up in his arms, whisking me away to his bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he pants, frantically removing his clothes. “Can you get undressed and lay down on your stomach for me?”

I follow his orders without question. He leans down by my ear and asks one question. “Safe word?”

“Cherry blossom.”

“Anything off limits?”

I don’t even have to think. “No, I trust you.”

Next thing I know I feel soft silk over my eyes as he ties a blindfold in place. This allows me to focus on the sounds of whatever else he is preparing. I hear a distinctly familiar jingle of metal, which is confirmed as it touches the skin of my wrists. Handcuffs. I wiggle my hips in delight, which earns me a playful spank.

“Like what you see?”

“I definitely can’t complain.” I can almost hear his smirk.

His fingers dig into my hips before pulling them up in the air. I feel cold air hit my core immediately.

“Fucking beautiful.”

Without any warning I feel a finger coated in cool lubricant coating my other opening.

“Try and relax for me, beautiful.” His fingers run through some of my hair, dragging across the skin of my back and I feel my muscles immediately follow his command. I attempt to mentally and physically prepare for whatever could be coming next.

I feel him work in what feels to be a decent sized anal plug. I’ve tried them before but only by myself. I’m already enjoying the added stimulation. My hips jolt when he suddenly brings his head down to lick up through my slit and I can’t help but yell.

“Fuck!”

“Mmm you like that, dirty girl? You’re quite literally dripping for me.”

He says it so calmly, I can hardly wrap my head around how smooth he’s being.

“Yes sir, please!” I beg.

“Please what, hmmm? What do you need?”

“Need you to eat my pussy please sir!”

Damn I sound absolutely pathetic. To think I ever considered myself a feminist. So much for my leg up on domineering men. Here I am willingly let one take me, have me anyway he wants. And that’s just the way I want it too. For Spencer Reid, I would be anything he needed.

“Good girl.” The two words have me writhing in pleasure with the combined sensation of his tongue back on the place I need it most. He sucks and laps at me like I'm his favorite dessert . He reads my body like a book, every movement and moan. He knows just what I need, when to let up, when to push harder. It’s unfair just how talented his mouth is.

And then, I’m coming undone on that beautiful mouth of his. Too bad I can’t see it. But oh it’s all I can imagine as waves of pleasure wreck my body and he’s running his fingers down my back, squeezing my ass as he gets in his final victory licks.

There’s a distinct sound of a condom wrapper, and I appreciate the consideration. I feel him sit on the bed next to me, against the headboard perhaps?

“Come sit on my lap.” His voice is dark and commanding, and my body is already responding with a fresh dose of arousal.

“But I can’t see sir.”

“No excuses. Come sit on my lap or you won’t get to come again.”

Not only can I not see, but my hands are still handcuffed behind my back. Not to mention my knees are weak from my most recent orgasm. This oughta be interesting. I try to scoot on my knees towards where I had heard his voice, only to lose my balance once I bump into his legs. I fall face first into his lap. Not the worst position to be in. I hear a soft, dark chuckle above me.

“Poor pathetic thing, are you already too weak? Can you handle another one?”

I swear, I never knew I was into degradation and humiliation. I don’t even know if I truly am, it's just something about him, about Spencer, that turns me on with everything he does.

“Yes sir, please! Please I can handle it! Let me try!”

I feel his fingers grasp my jaw, pulling my face up till I’m sitting on my knees again. I can feel his breath on my face and I wish I could just lean in and feel his lips on mine. My wish is granted for just a second. I feel his plush lips brush against mine, but they’re gone just as quick.

“Pretty thing. Let me help you, hmm.”

His long fingers wrap around my hips and guide me till I’m sitting in his lap, one leg on either side.

“Do you think you can ride me without your hands for balance?

“Yes sir!” I nod with an embarrassing eagerness.

“Show me, baby.”

I raise up and with his guidance again, lower myself until he’s making sure my other hole is filled as well.

Each bounce against his lap is adding pressure against the plug, combined with the bump of his cock against my cervix. With no sight, I’m so in tune with every sensation, especially the way his fingers feel roaming every inch of my body. He’s pinch my nipples, grabbing my ass, tugging at my hair. I may have been the one begging but he was clearly just as desperate.

When he decided he needs more, Spencer grabs my hips and starts thrusting up into me at a completely

ridiculous pace.

“You look so pretty bouncing on my cock. See for yourself, little girl.”

Before I have time to realize what he means, his beautiful fingers are ripping the silk away from my eyes, only to be met with absolutely heavenly eyes. They’re golden, warm, filled with lust but also something kinder. They devour my body like I’m his goddess. I absolutely love watching him enjoy the view. He licks his lips hungrily as he watches my breasts bounce and the way he looks sliding in and out of me.

Spencer pulls me in so he can leave a trail of kisses along my shoulders and neck. I love the way my face feels buried in his soft curls, he smells of lavender shampoo and it’s intoxicating. When he pulls back he’s got a knowing smirk on his face.

“What?”

In seemingly one move, I’m off his lap, on my back, with my hands pinned over my head.

“But the hand cuffs? How did you-“

Instead of answering he silenced me with an all consuming kiss. We’re biting, sucking, moaning, on one another like animals in heat. I can’t help but feel sorry for his poor neighbors.

He keeps my hands pinned above my head while realigning himself ready to pick back up where he left off. Before I can even register what’s happening he’s pounding into me like it’s his fucking job.

“You feel that? You feel how perfectly I fill you up? So pretty with my cock in you. Fuck- you take it so well!”

Words are gone from my mind. I’m left with moans, tears, and one name. Spencer.

“Spencer!”

He lets go of my arms and they instinctively wrap around his neck as I use my legs around his hips bringing him close.

“I’ve got you pretty girl. I’m here. Be a good little thing and come for me. Come on.”

I’m wrecked, shaking and moaning, unsure if I’ll ever be able to stop. He’s right there with me, filling me up in the best way. The pleasure is intensified by the extra pressure from the plug. I cling to him for dear life as I ride off my high, enjoying the way he looks above me. He’s angelic with the light sheen of sweat causing his skin to glisten in the low lighting, the natural sparkle of his eyes, the way his curls fall in his face, the pretty pink lips softly parted as he pants.

He’s dominant but also so soft and kind with me. It's clear tonight he cared about my pleasure just as much as his own. Maybe I don’t ever have to let him go. Maybe we can just stay here, twisted up in one another, blissfully unaware of all our troubles and the world around us.

I’m embarrassed at how much I whine as he gets off of me and slips away into the bathroom. I don’t know why I was surprised when he returns with a warm washcloth and lotion. He’s cleaning me up, tending to my wrists and any other spots sore from friction, and removing the plug. All the while he’s littering my skin with gentle kisses, all along my back and shoulders, my hips, my chest, my face. I’ve never been so pampered.

“Are you okay?” His voice is sweet and smooth like honey, leaving me tingling in the wake of its sweetness.

“Never better.” I leave kisses across his knuckles and he gives me that look again, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

After some convincing, I get up to use the bathroom, returning to a very sweet looking boy waiting for me under the covers, looking up with puppy dog eyes. I see the man I first met in the courtyard months ago. The one that stole my heart. I slip into the spot next to him, and we tangle back together, skin against skin. It’s so warm, soft, inviting and I think I’ll stay forever.

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer x reader #prison reid #post prison spencer #spencer reid x y/n

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xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years ago

Text

🔥The Perfect Shot🔥

A/N: This one was a little experimental but I’m actually kinda proud of it 😅. I had a dream about this and just had to write it down so here you go! This one has been in my drafts for a while and I finally had time to edit it, not me doing this instead of my homework, so I figured I’d post it so I have some new content out while I work on the two requests I have. Speaking of which, those will be out soon so keep an eye out for those! I love working on them and they are both really awesome requests so I’m really excited to get them out to you. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this quick piece! Love you guys! 🥰🥺

🐉Song Recommendation: “Stick Up” By: grandson 🐉

Word Count: ~4.2k

~~~

Levi scowled immediately upon entering the bar. It didn’t have anything to do with the bar itself, the establishment was actually surprisingly clean. A little too messy to meet his usual standards, but clean enough for him to get comfortable. No, his scowl was aimed right for his old friend Erwin, the owner of the place.

“Levi, what’s with the sour look?” Erwin asked, his gaze sympathetic. Bastard, he knew what the look was for.

“Haven’t I told you not to pity me whenever I come in here?” Levi snapped, not in the mood for the giant blonde’s antics tonight. “My job is hard enough as it is without you constantly looking at me like I’m some kind of injured animal.”

“It’s not pity, Levi, it’s a thing called concern. I know you’ve probably never heard of it, but it’s something that friends show each other when they are worried about the well being of the other person.”

“I’m fine,” Levi grumbled. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Erwin knew that wasn’t entirely true, could see it in the shorter man’s eyes, but he let it be, knowing Levi would just get more irritated the longer the conversation continued. “The usual?”

“Yeah.”

“Oi, Miche! Levi’s here, get him his usual, please!”

Levi heard Miche’s responding yell from the back room where the dirty blonde was probably hanging out with Hanji, the brunette scientist, a close friend of Erwin’s who got special permission to stay in the back room with them whenever the foot traffic was slow. Shaking his head, Levi fought the small smile that tried to appear on his face as he thought about the people he had surprisingly come to know as his friends. He still had no idea why they ever wanted to talk to him, but he had come to appreciate it nonetheless, even when Hanji blabbed his ear off about scientific studies, although he’d never admit it aloud.

Soon enough, a glass filled with dark copper liquid was slid in front of him, and he lifted his gaze to see Miche smirking at him, “Hard day?”

“You could say that,” Levi murmured, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a healthy gulp.

“Work hours are only getting longer, huh?”

“Yeah, and the people I work with are idiots. It was almost like my latest clients were on a mission to make my job as difficult as possible. It would’ve been a complete disaster if I hadn’t been able to focus everything at the last minute; would’ve cost both of us a lot of money if I hadn’t gotten the shots they wanted.”

“Sorry to hear that, Levi,” Miche said, a slight frown on his handsome features. “I hope this helps you loosen up a bit.”

Levi nodded as Miche ambled away with a light pat on the mahogany, a sigh quietly slipping from his lips as he picked up the glass and swirled it before taking another sip. The golden lights above him were dimmed, making the space feel surprisingly homey, the glow from the lamps contrasting nicely with the dark wallpaper and bathing the wood of the bar with a warm honeyed finish. Levi closed his eyes and sighed through his nose, allowing the cozy atmosphere to soothe him.

He was grateful for the emptiness of the bar, the quiet hum of the television playing the latest news one of the only sounds filling the air. He wasn’t surprised, it was nearly two in the morning, but it made him grateful nonetheless. He did feel bad about coming in so late, knowing that even though the bar was still open, his friends would want to be heading home soon, but he had been working late, cleaning his equipment and resetting his work space for the next day and hadn’t been able to come in any earlier. He had thought about waiting, but the stress of the day pushed him to put himself before others for once and have a damn drink.

Levi was still lost in his thought when the sound of a bell tinkling snapped him out of it, his silver hues darting over to the door and narrowing. He quirked an eyebrow in surprise when he saw a woman standing in the entryway, a black hooded cloak wrapped around her shoulders to protect her against the biting autumn chill.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Miche’s booming voice called out, only adding to Levi’s confusion, “How’re you doing today? Work go well?”

The woman Miche had called (Y/N) lowered the hood of her cloak, letting out a relaxed sigh as the warmth of the bar chased the cold from her skin. She smiled when she saw the tall, dirty blonde man, her (e/c) eyes sparkling.

“I’m doing well, Miche, thank you! Work ran really late today, some difficult clients seemed to be on a mission to make me want to kill them, so I just had to get a drink when I finally finished up. I hope I’m not bothering anyone this late?”

Miche waved off her concerns with a broad smile, “Of course not! Seat yourself and I’ll be right with you, the usual, right?”

(Y/N) nodded and shrugged off her cloak, draping it over the back of her seat as she slid into a spot two places away from Levi, naturally giving the raven-haired stranger space. Levi watched her as she took her seat, his head tilted slightly to the side curiously. He had never seen her before, despite the fact that she was obviously a regular. He wasn’t a constant drinker, but he had come to this bar enough to be curious about her, trying to figure out which days she usually liked to come in. Maybe she usually came in during the day. It would make sense, Levi almost always came in around midnight due to the effort and professionalism he put into his craft taking up most of his time, but he was still surprised he had never heard of her, not when she was clearly a good friend of Miche’s.

“Ah, I thought I recognized that voice, welcome back (Y/N),” Erwin said as he rounded the corner, a bright smile on his handsome face as he presented her with her drink of choice. (Y/N) smiled back at him and gently grasped the glass in her palms, a quiet murmur of gratitude slipping from her lips before she sipped.

Erwin knew her too? That did make sense, if Miche knew her than Erwin, the owner of the bar, would definitely know her too, but this seemed like more than your average bartender and customer relationship. They were acting like close friends, as if they’d known each other for years. He could see it in the way the blonde behemoth beamed at the sight of the mystery woman, the way he talked so easily to her. He knew Erwin was usually charming, easygoing, but this felt different.

“I heard you had a tough day at work,” Erwin said, leaning against the bar with both elbows perched on the wood.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said with a sigh, taking another sip of her drink. “It was these new customers. Most of my clients know of my skill and trust me to do the job right but these people just wouldn’t stop being so controlling. Every five seconds they would be telling me to move and take another shot, move and take another shot, practicing over and over again with decoy subjects as if this were my first time doing this. It took me way longer to get everything done, and cleaning up took forever at the end because of all of the extra stuff they wanted to include. It was infuriating, like, I know how to do my job, so please, shut the fuck up.”

Erwin chuckled, “I would’ve paid good money to see the look on their faces.”

“You know I didn’t actually say that to them. I wanted to, really wanted to, but they are business and business is money, so I just had to deal with it. It just comes with the job, I guess.”

Erwin nodded and leaned back, pulling a washcloth from his pocket to wipe down the the wood, cleaning the smudges from where he had been leaning. “Yeah, I get it. People come in here all the time just to be difficult. Some pick fights, some try not to pay, some are just petty because they want to be, some come in at ungodly hours of the morning, it’s just part of the job, like you said.”

(Y/N) winced, “Sorry, I know it’s late. I can leave if you guys are packing up.”

Erwin shook his head with a warm smile. “Don’t be, I was just teasing you. I had Nanaba working the morning shift, so I haven’t been here for that long. Take your time to unwind, you deserve it.”

She smiled at him again, thanking him as she lifted the glass to her lips. Erwin slapped a large hand on her shoulder and squeezed once before leaving to go into the back room, no doubt to check on Miche and make sure he wasn’t being harassed by Hanji and her over energetic explanations of her experiments.

(Y/N) leaned back and hummed happily at the feeling of the warm alcohol burning pleasantly in her stomach. She could feel the eyes of the raven haired man on her as she took another sip, but she ignored him. If he wanted to talk to her, then he could say something, but she wasn’t going to engage him unless he did, content to just finish her drink and go home.

She supposed if she didn’t want to talk to people she could’ve just had a drink at home, curled up on the couch with a movie, blankets, and maybe some ice cream, but there was just something about Erwin’s bar that was so comforting.

It was a quiet little place, even during the day, a hidden treasure that was hard to find if you didn’t know where to look. It was only known through word of mouth, which made it wonderfully calm most of the time, as most people went to the more popular bars in the area. (Y/N) had learned about it through Hanji, her friend from college, who told her about it after (Y/N) had had a particularly horrible day at work and needed a pick me up. Now, she came all the time, even if she didn’t order anything, just to talk to her now good friends and enjoy the relaxing atmosphere.

She had actually been surprised to find someone else sitting at the bar when she had walked in. Erwin’s bar wasn’t a complete secret, she knew that despite the lack of advertising, quite a few people knew about the joint, but she almost never saw anybody at this time of night. Not when the bar was technically closed and her friends were finishing up.

It made her wonder if her friends knew this man, if he was a friend of their’s. If he was, she had never heard of him. Maybe he was just one of those private types. But then again, would a private type be so obviously staring at a random woman in a bar at two in the morning? She didn’t know, but for some reason, although the stare unnerved her a bit, she wasn’t really bothered by it. She occasionally liked to people watch, albeit more subtly, so despite the intensity of the stare making her want to squirm, she let him be, downing more of her liquor until it burned her throat and warmed her chest from the inside out.

The man’s phone suddenly buzzed, the normally quiet noise sounding a lot louder in the wake of the near complete silence in the bar. He glanced down at it, turning the screen at an angle of which she couldn’t see, and scowled. She watched as he silently seethed, unlocking his phone and quickly replying to whoever had texted him, his fingers flying across the little keyboard.

(Y/N) had to admit, he was quite handsome, her eyes roving over him while he wasn’t paying attention, subjecting him to the same treatment he had been giving her. He was shorter than the average man but (Y/N) hardly noticed, his pale skin and black hair, both darkened by the dim lighting of the bar, paired with his gunmetal eyes proving to be an appealing combination.

Levi growled to himself lowly, pretending not to notice the woman staring at him as he typed on his phone, writing a response to a cheeky text from Hanji.

“You’re going to creep her out if you just keep staring at her like some kind of predator. Go talk to her!”

“Fuck off, Shitty Glasses.”

“I’m serious, Levi! She’s a good friend of mine, it’ll be good for you two to get to know each other. Besides, I think you’re drooling. Go talk to her before I make you, she won’t bite!”

“I said, fuck off.”

Refraining from rolling his eyes, Levi placed his phone face down on the table and ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of a reason to approach her. It wasn’t because he was drooling over her like Hanji claimed, he was just bored and had time to kill. She just happened to be different enough to capture his temporary interest. At least, that’s what he told himself. He didn’t let himself admit how surprisingly pretty she was, nor did he acknowledge the fact that his eyes kept straying to her face, fixated on her attractive features.

But, as much as he hated to admit it, Hanji was right. Staring at her like this without saying a word, in the middle of the night, at a bar, alone, was creepy as fuck. He was genuinely surprised she hadn’t confronted him already, telling him to fuck off.

Talking to people just wasn’t his forte, he felt uncharacteristically nervous, but he had to say something, otherwise she’d see him as nothing more than some creepy asshole. He had no idea why he cared so much about her opinion, but he ignored that thought as he scrambled for a topic to bring up.

“Hard day?”

Her soft voice snapped Levi out of his thoughts, his eyes flicking up to meet hers, which he hadn’t realized were trained on him, “What?”

“Oh, you just seem like you’ve had a hard day, so I thought I’d ask you about it.”

“What made me look like I had a bad day?” Levi asked.

“Well, for one, you’re here at two in the morning. You could just be an insomniac who prefers a drink late at night like me, but you also looked constipated a minute ago, so I made an educated guess.”

Levi fought the smirk that tried to appear on his face. He often made shit jokes when around his friends, it made a small part of him happy knowing she did too. “It was shitty.”

(Y/N) giggled, “Mine was too.”

“Yeah, I heard you talking about it with Erwin and Miche. Annoying clients, right?”

(Y/N) nodded, “Mm, just some folks who think they know everything. But it wasn’t anything a little drink from Erwin’s place can’t fix. How about you?”

“Same kind of thing,” Levi said, sipping from his glass. “Just some shitty people trying to control every aspect of my job.”

(Y/N) hummed her acknowledgement and took a healthy swig from her drink. “Exactly. All day, they’ve been making me change things that didn’t need changing, swap out equipment that didn’t need to be swapped, etc. It’s so infuriating sometimes when things would get done so much faster if I was left alone. I had a vision right from the start that would’ve given me the perfect shot if they hadn’t interfered, but because of them, my work wasn’t nearly as professional as it usually is.”

Levi raised an eyebrow at that, surprised. It wasn’t often he found someone who worked in the same career field as him, at least not in this area. It made him wonder just how spontaneous this was, if Hanji had somehow convinced (Y/N) to come out on a night when the brunette knew he would be there.

“Really? Why don’t you tell me about this perfect shot?”

(Y/N) glanced at him, one eyebrow raised, “What’s it to you?”

“I’m curious, we might have different perspectives on how to get this so called ‘perfect shot’. If you share with me your methods, I might share some of mine too.”

(Y/N)’s mouth parted in shock a little. Her profession wasn’t that uncommon, but in this area? She was the most notable by a landslide, so it made her curious. Maybe he was from out of town? She didn’t recognize him, but maybe she had heard of him before and just didn’t know it was him?

“Alright, fine,” (Y/N) said, getting up and moving closer to him, seating herself beside him. “Usually, to get what I want, I have to start by surveying the space. I really like to note all of the possible places I could position myself for maximum clarity and optimal focus.”

Levi nodded, his mind going back to his own methods, identifying that as one of the things he did when preparing for work as well. “I like to do that too. If you don’t pay attention to your surroundings, it can limit your opportunities and present unexpected obstacles.”

“Exactly. Then, once I’ve found a spot where I want to be, I try to either imagine the thing I’m shooting and where I want them to be, or try to plan for exactly where they are going to move to as I work. That way, I can estimate where the focal point will be, and when they are finally in position, it’s a lot easier to locate.”

“Where do you shoot from? Far or close?” Levi asked, his attention completely focused on the woman in front of him.

“Well, that depends on what my client wants and where the person is. The location, time, client, and weather can change at any time, and all of it directly impacts the quality of the shot. So I flip back and forth between them depending on what’s happening. How about you?”

“I usually tend to favor distance rather than close proximity, gives me more to work with. It makes it harder to focus and even the slightest movement can ruin the job, but close proximity can make it harder to see the whole picture, at least, in my opinion,” Levi said.

(Y/N) nodded, “That makes sense.”

“What next?”

“Well then, once I have a focal point picked out and a position set, I get my equipment ready. Sometimes I have a bunch of extensions and extra supplies to help me out if it’s a particularly important client, but most of the time I try to keep it simple. Less distractions that way.”

Levi nodded, his eyes glinting as he listened to her speak, neither of them aware of the eyes that were watching them from the back room window, trying to stifle their squeals and chuckles.

“After everything is prepped and ready to go, I then have to prepare myself. You’d think that after doing this job for so long that I wouldn’t be affected by nerves and emotions while working anymore, but unfortunately, I am. So before I even touch my equipment, I usually have take deep breaths and completely wipe my mind of all anxiety. It has to be perfect for each client, no matter who they are, so I have to get a grip on myself before I start. Even the tiniest hitched breath can affect the shot.”

Levi was pleasantly surprised with that one. It wasn’t like anyone he worked with denied the fact that emotion and nervousness could impact the shot, but they often didn’t consider it too much as a factor, preferring to power through the anxiety and get it over with. Levi had always been annoyed with this strategy and the mediocre results it produced, so hearing (Y/N) talk about something most others chose to ignore, made him want to get to know her more.

“I agree,” Levi said. “Ever since I started, that has always stuck with me.”

(Y/N) smiled, “Finally, once everything is in position and I’ve gotten a handle on my adrenaline, I position myself with my equipment and take the shot. Thankfully, after that, I have a crew that comes in for cleaning up the area when I’m finished so I can go back and take care of my equipment. Unless, that is, I miss. If I miss the target, then I’m responsible for tracking them down while avoiding shots aimed at me. I wouldn’t want anyone on my team to get hurt, and if I miss the shot, that’s my own fault, so I have to clean up my own mess.”

Levi was nodding along until her words really sank in, making him freeze. Target? Tracking them down? Avoiding shots? Getting hurt? Levi’s face paled and (Y/N)’s smile immediately faded, replaced by a look of concern.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Levi swallowed thickly and nodded, the gears turning rapidly in his head as he tried to think of what to say. “Yes, sorry, I just remembered that I have an important client coming in tomorrow that I forgot about since today has been such a mess. You just reminded me of it, that’s all.”

“Are you sure? You look… sick... all of a sudden.”

“I’m fine. I’m just stressed about this photo shoot tomorrow. It’s really important for my business. If I lose them, then I’ll have a bit of a problem on my hands.”

Levi watched the color drain from (Y/N)’s face as if her skin was being bleached right before his eyes. Her mouth opened, a small squeak coming out but no words, her eyes wide with shock and panic.

“O-Oh my gods…” (Y/N) whispered. “You-You…!”

“Yeah, I thought you were a...” Levi whispered back.

“Oh gods, I am so sorry, um, I-I didn’t mean to- um, okay,” (Y/N) stuttered and tripped over her words, her head turning frantically as she fought for something to say. She felt like she should leave, but she was worried about how that would look, especially after dropping such a bombshell on him. Sighing, she admitted defeat and pushed the rest of her drink away, moving to grab her cloak. “Gods, I am so sorry, I’ll just go, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or-”

“Wait,” Levi said.

(Y/N) wanted to escape the situation, wanted to leave this nightmare and bury her face in some pillows at home as she wallowed in her embarrassment, but the conviction in his voice made her stop and slowly sink back down into her seat.

“It doesn't bother me,” Levi said slowly. “You didn’t know, and it’s your job. I can’t fault you for that.”

“Really?” (Y/N) said, not convinced.

“Trust me,” Levi said. “I’m friends with Shitty Glasses, who literally experiments on anything and everything, I’ve heard worse stories than that one.”

When (Y/N) still didn’t look convinced, Levi sighed and reached into his coat pocket. “Here, I’d like to talk to you again sometime. Come around one day and I might just show you how I take the perfect shot.”

(Y/N) hesitated but eventually reached forward and took ahold of the little white card he held out to her, her eyes sparkling when she saw his name, number, and studio address on the piece of paper. Looking up, she could see the honesty reflected in his gaze and finally allowed a small smile to come back onto her face.

“That sounds good, Levi. I’ll see you around.”

“See you,” Levi said as he watched (Y/N) stand, stretch, and walk out, cloak in hand.

As soon as the door shut and the (h/c) haired woman made her way around the corner, his friends burst into the room, all of them wearing smug smiles that only made Levi scowl.

“So, looks like you’ve got some plans, huh? I’ve never seen you hand out your card to anyone that wasn’t a major client,” Hanji said, wiggling her eyebrows and beaming when he turned his glare on her.

“Shut up, Shitty Glasses. Why didn’t you tell me she was a sniper?”

“Well, because usually that’s a pretty big turn off for people. (Y/N) is my best friend and she needs some love too so I figured, why not? I knew you’d figure it out eventually, but I didn’t want to set a precedent for her that would make you unwilling to approach her. And look what happened! Now, you have a date!”

“It’s not a date, Four Eyes.”

“Uh huh, whatever you say, Shorty.”

Levi ignored his friends as the two men started laughing along with Hanji, cracking jokes about him and the situation he had somehow found himself in. Looking out the windows, towards the corner of the street where he had seen (Y/N) disappear, he couldn’t help the small smile that curled the corners of his lips.

A photographer and a sniper, huh? Maybe they weren’t so different after all. Maybe, whatever this was that was blooming between them, will be worth a shot.

~~~

A/N: I totally forgot to say earlier that this story is based off of the prompt posted by @writing-prompt-s! Sorry for not sourcing it beforehand, completely slipped my mind. Thank you to those who reminded me!

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kingofkingdom-archive · 4 years ago

Text

1979

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Fem!Reader

Part ONE (Read part 2 HERE)

Rating: T (Teen) - part 2 will be E

Summary: The year is 1979. You need a ride to anywhere that’s far away from where you are. When a handsome stranger in a rustbucket pickup gives you that ride, neither of you could predict any of the events that follow.

Warnings: Smoking (and lots of it), mild violence (a punch is thrown), brief harassment of reader, food, mention of a gun (one is encountered but not used), mention of homelessness, brief mention/description of war (Vietnam), child abandonment, mention of abusive/dangerous father figure, passing mention of serial killers, vague description of non-specific events leading up to reader resorting to hitchhiking, very meta mention of a certain beloved space opera

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: Whew! This one has been in the shop for a LONG while. Originally I meant for this to be a single work, but I’ve hit a bit of a slump with the last bit. I decided to post this to see how y’all feel about it! The second part will be much longer :) Also: I know there has been some discourse recently about Din’s characterization in certain fics, so I hope this does him justice for you! I’m always open to comments, and like I said I’m very interested in hearing what you think! As per usual, no use of Y/N and please heed the tags/warnings.

8:47

You lean against the streetlight, glancing down at your watch and then back up to the motel across the street. You told yourself you'd wait until 8:30 and then you'd go back and reserve a room for another night. As you watch the second hand wind its way around the small, plain face of your 2-dollar timepiece, you've convinced yourself that maybe staying out until 9 is the ticket.

Your ticket, out of this shithole town.

The summer air is hot and thick around you. It's especially unbearable both between your legs and at the band of your bra, the elastic stretched around your middle doing its best to make you feel as sweaty and uncomfortable as possible. At least you're wearing your cutoffs, giving your legs the chance to breathe. You've also got a loose tank on, which flutters in the sticky wind as cars pass you by.

8:51

Your thumb has been stuck out for passerby to see for the past three days. No one has picked you up. You suppose you should be more wary of taking lifts from complete strangers with all the murder and kidnapping that's been in the news recently, but you're more than a little headstrong with a dash of stupid to go along. That's what your mother always told you, anyway.

Some Cadillac speeds past you, blaring what you think is a Donna Summer song, and you watch as the music and taillights fade into the night.

You shouldn't be surprised, you figure, as the minutes continue to tick on by. There's a gas shortage, you reason with yourself as you bend down to pick up your bag, thumb still stuck out, elbow resting on your waist. People don't do this anymore. Afraid of getting picked up by a pervert or a killer. Afraid of picking one up, and then a streetlight just like the one you're under is the last thing they see.

8:58

You sigh, ready to head in for the night. Marvin, dude who sits at the motel's front desk, is sure to give you shit about it again.

You're preparing to cross the street when you hear the low growl of a pickup truck approach. Not looking to get creamed by some fuckin' rusted-out GMC, you step back onto the curb where you'd been posted.

Except the truck slows up, and the window rolls down as it crawls to a stop in front of you.

Your heart races. Finally.

You walk up to the passenger side window and look in, expecting some fat old putz looking to get some tail in exchange for a ride.

That's not what you see.

"Need a lift, young lady?"

The truck's driver is older than you, sure, but you were wrong about pretty much everything else. He's got short dark hair and a 'stache, with some stubble across his chin. He's wearing a leather jacket over a plain gray tee, with a pair of sunglasses hung on the collar. One hand is on the wheel while the other is laid across the back of the bench seat, a cigarette perched in between his first two fingers.

You lean forward on your tiptoes as best you can, forearms resting on the door's open window. Pretending to survey the interior, you look around and take the opportunity to check the man out. God, you think. I wouldn't mind giving him whatever he wants in exchange for this ride. Maybe another kinda ride. Ha!

"As it turns out, I do. You offering?"

You rest your chin on your arms and give him the sweetest smile you can muster. The man eyes you up and takes a drag from his cigarette. You watch with rapt attention as he inhales deeply and then exhales the smoke out through his nose.

This guy's got you all hot and bothered and you haven't even gotten in the truck.

He gestures with his hand. "Come on, kid. I gotta make the state line by midnight."

You definitely like the sound of that. Eager and supremely stoked to finally have a way out of this dump, you pull on the handle, jump in, and swing the door closed behind you. Your backpack finds its place between your feet, and the stranger starts driving again as you pull your seatbelt across your shoulders.

"Where're you headed?" the man asks, glancing over to you and then looking back at the road. The asphalt seems to stretch into infinity, flanked by trees and fields and the occasional watering hole.

"Away from here," you chuckle as you fidget with your fingers. Black nail polish decorates your trimmed nails. It's chipped and uneven in some spots; you never were great at painting your nails, especially your right hand.

"I got that," the man drawls, voice deep and smooth like honey. "Any particular destination in mind?"

You shrug. To be honest, you hadn't exactly thought that far ahead. Your first and only priority was a way out, and anything after that was a problem to be handled when it came to it.

"Nope. Just as far as you're willing to take me."

The guy nods and takes a drag. The smell of cigarettes never bothered you like it does some other people; you find it relaxing, calming, especially when it's fresh and all-consuming like it is in this guy's truck. The vehicle itself is old, maybe 10 or 15 years, and a glance into the bed behind you tells you he's traveling with a couple boxes and nothing more.

It's certainly not state-of-the-art, but that's all the better for staying under the radar.

The silence looms over you like a cloud. The stranger seems content to just listen to the engine and the tires on the road, but you're prone to fill silences unprompted.

"What's your name?" you ask, and look over at him. He glances at you and raises a brow.

He clears his throat, eyes moving back to the road. "You can call me Mando."

"Mando?" you retort before you can stop yourself. "What kinda bogus name is that? Like, what... you got a thing for mandolins or some shit?"

The man huffs. "It is what is, kid. Get used to it."

You sigh, crossing your arms. "Alright, alright... Mando."

He doesn't try to continue the conversation, so you don't either. Minutes pass, and then hours, and you find yourself drifting off not too long after the clock reads 10:00. You shake yourself awake, wanting to stave off sleep until he pulls over to rest for the night.

But the engine is like a lullaby, the soft swaying of the truck a gentle rocking motion, and your eyes fall closed despite your best efforts.

When you wake up again, the truck is no longer moving, and the clock reads 12:30.

You must have been woken up by Mando putting the truck into park. The darkness outside does not give any clues as to where you are, but as your eyes adjust you can just make out some picnic tables, garbage cans, and signs.

A rest area. Makes sense.

Mando is fumbling with something beside you. It's a map, you realize when you look over.

"Where are we?" you ask with a yawn.

"Just over the border. Made it a bit later than I would've liked, but that's not a big deal. You can sleep here in the cab. I'll take the bed, since I sleep there anyway."

You nod, though you find it odd the way he's... not asking you for anything. He hasn't mentioned payment, monetary or otherwise. You watch as he folds the map back up, and catch his gaze as he stashes it in the glove box.

"I gotta repay you somehow, mister," you mutter. "For how nice you're bein' to me. 'Specially since I made fun of your name and all."

At your words, Mando gives you a stern look from under one of his furrowed brows. "No, you don't. Blanket's under the seat. Get some rest."

He turns away, grabs the keys, and is out the door before you can reply.

It's just so unusual for a guy to pick up a girl like you and refuse payment, much less not ask for or take it outright. It's a shame, really. Any other guy, you'd give him what he wanted sure, but with less than enthusiastic participation. The one man to whom you'd gladly deliver anything he asked... and he seems not to want it.

You suppose you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Better a prude than a murderer, that's for sure.

As you reach under the seat for the blanket, your hand brushes against some sort of canvas bag, long and zippered. You lean over to look in at it upside-down, hair brushing against the dusty floor mats.

It's a rifle bag. You reach in to feel at where the barrel would be, and sure enough, there's something distinctly rifle-shaped inside.

Huh. It's not a surprise that a guy like him's traveling armed, but it makes you wonder. A hunter, maybe? Probably. There's a lot of those around.

You spot the blanket and pull it out. It's gray, scratchy wool, but as you pull it over yourself, you find it keeps the nighttime chill away quite well.

You wake up to Mando swatting at your feet.

"Time to get up, sunshine. Gotta get going."

His deep voice pierces through the fog of sleep still hanging thick over your mind. You groan and push yourself up onto your elbows, drawing your feet in to give him space to slide into the drivers' seat.

It's still dark out. You see a hint of light on the horizon, the beginning of the sunrise peeking over hills and fields.

"What time is it?" you ask, rubbing at your eyes. You're a chronic over-sleeper, so seeing the sunrise is a rarity. It seems Mando has no such problem.

"A bit after six. We'll stop at a diner for something to eat in about an hour. You're welcome to go back to sleep until then." He turns the key in the ignition and the truck rumbles to life, a blast of lukewarm air hitting you in the face.

"No, no. I'm up," you assure him, shrugging the blanket off your shoulders. As you fold it, you look over at the man beside you. He's wearing the same faded jeans and leather jacket as yesterday, but the shirt underneath has changed. The sunglasses are still hung on the collar, but now it's some faded band tee from like 8 years ago.

You set the folded-up blanket on the seat between you and him, watching as he puts the truck into drive and starts off. Before you know it, you're watching the early-morning world pass by outside your window. You kick off your sandals and tuck your feet up under yourself, sitting crosslegged on the seat.

About 15 minutes later, you've grown tired of watching farmhouses and cornfields fly by in the dark.

"So, uh..." you start, not really knowing where you intend to finish your sentence, "you like music?"

Stupid. That was stupid.

Mando chuckles. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" you reply, hopeful that he might have more to say.

"Yes. I do like music."

You roll your eyes. "What kind of music? Jazz? Opera? Country-western? Who's your favorite artist? Got any favorite records?"

He glances over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "You sure do ask a lot of questions."

"Well, I figure if I'm gonna be traveling with you for a good while, I might as well know a bit about you. And vice versa."

Mando just hums.

"I'll tell you mine, then," you inform him, grinning widely now. "My favorite record right now is Parallel Lines. By Blondie, you know? I really like them. This time last year I woulda told you my favorite album was something by Wire or the Sex Pistols - I was real into punk, if you know anything about it. Now I'm more into poppy stuff. I just think it's fun, to be honest."

You continue to ramble to Mando well into the drive. The sky grows lighter and the road grows more crowded, but he does not stop you. At the end of a tangent about Bowie, you turn to look at him, and he's sitting there like you haven't just talked his ear off for the past twenty minutes.

"Sorry. I jus-"

"Don't apologize. It's... I don't mind," he interrupts, not taking his eyes off the road.

You stretch your legs out in front of you, looking at the sandal-shaped marks on the tops of your feet. "Don't you have any particular songs you like?"

Mando's quiet for a minute. You wait, looking up out the window. The sky is a pale pink and blue, with a hint of orange off to the east. A field of cows comes up on your left - your eyes track them as they pass by, wondering what it's like to pet one.

You bet they're soft. Soft and cuddly and so dumb they're cute.

"You have to promise not to laugh."

The words come as a surprise. You look over to Mando, eyes wide and interested.

"Never. Favorite music is sacred."

He sighs. His grip tightens on the wheel, like sharing even a small part of himself causes him distress.

"Tapestry. Carole King," he says, though the words are quiet and guarded.

That wasn't the answer you were expecting. "Really?" you ask, smiling brightly.

He just nods, though he spares a glance towards you, like he's gauging your reaction. You lean back against the seat, turning towards him more fully.

"I wouldn't have guessed. Color me surprised, Mando. You have good taste." It's true. The album's a classic, though more so with girls your age, not guys who pick up hitchhikers and keep rifles in their trucks. "What do you like about it?"

Mando shifts, bringing his left arm up to rest on the door, elbow propped so his head can rest on his hand. "Not sure. She writes a good song, that's all I know."

You're not satisfied with that answer. You'll get to know Mando, even if it's like pulling teeth. "Bull-shit. Pink Floyd writes a good song. Paul Simon writes a good song. Why her? Why that record? It came out like ten years ago, there's gotta be a reason - a real reason - you still like it."

The drone of the engine and the road is like a soundtrack in itself to the silences that loom heavy before every sentence he speaks. You wonder when the last time he really got to talk to someone was - talk like this, not small conversation with the waiter or grocer.

You're no psychiatrist, but it doesn't take a genius to spot someone who's been alone for a while.

Mando hums. "I guess I relate to her songs... in a way I didn't expect to when I first heard her music."

You smile at that, pleased as punch that he trusts you with that information. It's like cupping cool water in your hands on a hot summer's day, fleeting and precious. "What's your favorite song on the record?"

He turns his gaze to your for a moment, dark brown eyes staring at your dirty feet and day-old shirt and messy hair. You're not sure what exactly he sees as he takes you in, but you sit there and allow it regardless.

Mando looks back to the road, watching the small town approaching slowly on the horizon. "I Feel the Earth Move."

You nod. "A classic."

He just hums in response, and you expect the truck to fill with silence once again.

Except it doesn't.

Mando reaches out and presses the button to turn on the radio. Blondie's Heart of Glass flows out through the speakers - and you laugh.

The glowing neon sign advertising Lindy's Diner, with her promise of pancakes and eggs and bacon and coffee, gets you more excited than you care to admit. Mando pulls into a parking spot along the street, and you're out the door before the wheels have stopped turning.

Admittedly, you do also have to pee.

You rush into the diner to take care of your business, also using the provided sinks to brush your teeth and the mirror to comb through your hair with your fingers.

It's not much, but you do feel better. Hopefully tonight you can stay in a motel at least, maybe take a shower.

You exit the restroom and look around the diner. Mando's sitting in a booth, smoking a cigarette and looking out the window. You head over, tossing your backpack into your side first and sliding in after it.

"I'll be right back," he says, and leaves. You watch him walk over to the men's restroom, the door swinging shut behind him.

Whatever. Kinda rude. Not like you care, anyway.

You lean back in the booth and take a menu from the stand at the end of the table. The classic breakfast platter is looking particularly tempting, with its hash browns and bacon and eggs-however-you-like. You're contemplating scrambled versus over-easy when you hear a pair of footsteps walk up to your table.

Two strange men stand over you, looking at you like they know exactly how homeless you really are.

"You here alone, baby?" the shorter one asks, putting a grimy hand on the back of your booth, right behind your head. You open your mouth to say no, in fact, I am not, but the other guy speaks for you.

"It looks like you are, honey. Just our luck, a girl like you all on her -"

"Is there a problem?"

Mando's deep voice cuts through whatever it was the creep was planning to say. The low timbre of his voice, normally soft and kind, is uniquely dark - almost menacing - when it hides a threat.

You slowly cross your legs, hoping no one notices the movement under the table.

The two guys turn, and behind them you see Mando, looking extremely pissed. He puts a hand on the back of the taller man's neck, cig still perched between his fingers, and yanks him away from where he'd been standing in front of Mando's side of the booth.

"Jesus, man! We didn't know you were -"

Mando puts his hands on his hips, eyeing them up like a lion might size up its prey. "What? You didn't know what?"

The guy gulps. "Uh..."

"Come on," Mando taunts, something dark glinting in his eyes. "Don't get nervous on me, now."

"We didn't know you were with her, man. Sorry."

Mando shakes his head. "No. Don't say that to me. Say it to her." He nods hid head towards you, subtly positioning his body in between yours and theirs.

You're frozen in your seat, torn between fear and arousal.

The tall guy glances at you. "Sorry," he mutters. The shorter one's still looking at you funny, though.

Your companion jerks his head towards the door. "It's best you both leave, now."

You realize the diner's gone quiet, customers and employees alike watching the exchange with bated breath. The taller guy glances around and turns, heading straight for the door. His buddy hesitates, gaze shifting from Mando to you and back again. Eventually he also turns to leave, following the other one out.

Mando slides into his seat, though he won't quite meet your gaze when you look at him. Noise picks up in the diner once again and you let out a shaky breath.

You're about to say something when the two guys pass by the window. The shorter one peers in, works his jaw, and spits on the ground on the other side of the window from you. You see him mouth the word 'bitch!'.

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Mando to try and joke about it, attempting to brush off the uncomfortable encounter. But he's not there, and you realize belatedly that he's now storming outside.

Mouth agape, you watch as Mando stalks up to the short guy. Jesus, you think, if looks could kill...

The creep whirls around, throwing a fist at Mando before he even gets a good look at him. Mando dodges it easily with a step back, looking simultaneously murderous and annoyed. He winds his arm back and sends his fist flying at the creep's face. The guy stumbles and falls, clutching at what is now a bloody and broken nose, landing on his back on the sidewalk. His friend has long run off.

Mando puts a boot on the guy's sternum, pressing down so he can't get up no matter how much he struggles.

You see him lean down, elbow on his knee, and say something. The guy's eyes widen and he nods frantically. Mando then removes his foot and, without sparing the guy a second glance, re-enters the diner.

He slides into the booth again and takes the menu from you. There's blood on the knuckles of his right hand, but he makes no move to wipe it off. He flips through the pages as if nothing happened. You stare at him.

"You didn't have to do that," you mutter, voice soft and wavering.

Without looking from the menu, he responds. "Yes, I did."

"But, you coulda just... just let him go..."

"I could have," he replies, and turns a page. "But I didn't."

"But -"

For the first time since you both entered the diner, he looks up at you, and you're taken aback the intensity of his eyes. "He deserved worse, kid. Far worse."

He sounds so sure of it that you can't bring yourself to say otherwise. You sigh and clasp your hands together on the table, unsure of where to go from here.

Just then, the waitress comes up to your table, notepad and pen in hand.

"You two know what ya want?" she asks as Mando puts the menu back in its place.

He gestures for you to go first.

"Uh, yeah. I'll have the classic platter with scrambled eggs and white toast. And black coffee, please."

The woman nods, writing your order on her pad. "And you, sir?"

"I'll have the blueberry flapjacks, please. And coffee, black, for me as well."

The waitress nods and turns away. As you watch her push through the silver kitchen door, you realize that maybe you should be grateful for the way things went. That they didn't get uglier.

That Mando was there at all.

"Thank you," you say softly, doing your best to convey your sincerity to the man sitting across from you.

He simply nods, observing you with a look you can't quite place.

After breakfast, the two of you set off down the highway again. Fleetwood Mac flows out through the speakers and you don't expect to stop until after noon, when Mando will have to refuel (both the truck and your stomachs). Until then you kick off your shoes and put your feet up on the dash, window cracked about an inch so the summer wind can flow through your hair.

Despite the rocky start to the morning, the hours pass by easily, weightlessly. Sometimes you talk with Mando, other times you simply sit and watch the world pass by. You don't think you've ever seen this much land in one go, and it thrills you. The idea that there's so much more.

The topics vary from your time in school to movies to the truck. You're surprised to find out that Mando's never seen Star Wars, a fact nearly unheard of to you. You promise yourself that you'll make him watch it sometime, somehow.

Lunch passes without incident; you insist on paying for your ham and cheese sandwich, because Mando had covered breakfast before you could protest. It hits the spot, along with your ice-cold Coke from the little market's freezer. There's a line to get gas, as there is everywhere, but luckily it isn't too long, since you're in the middle of nowhere. Mando won't be able to fill the truck up again for a few days, meaning you'll have to stop for the night earlier tonight than you did yesterday.

You do find something interesting at the market and you decide to shell out the money for it because it intrigues you. A new style of Kodamatic camera, complete with a pack of instant film - 12 potential photos.

In your mind you see pictures of mountains, and the truck, and Mando, and you stuff the camera in your bag before your mind can wander any further down that road.

You have to admit - traveling with someone who you know can protect you if the need arises is comforting in a way that almost makes you nervous. You keep telling yourself not to get used to it, that this is just a temporary situation for as long as he sees fit to keep you around. After he decides he's had enough, he'll leave you, and you'll be on your own again. You can't get too dependent on him.

Nighttime arrives much too quickly. The sun has just dipped below the horizon when you drive into another small town, not much more than a stoplight and a few bars. You get lucky, though, because the unmistakable neon of a motel glows just ahead.

"Thank god," you groan as Mando pulls into the parking lot. "I need a shower so goddamned bad."

Mando chuckles. His arm rests with his hand out the window, flicking the ash at the end of his cigarette out onto the pavement. The orange glow at the end of it brightens as he takes a drag, and you tear your eyes away from his lips before he can catch you staring.

That's another problem. He's every inch as attractive to you now as he was before, except now you know he's nice. The mustache and the dark curls and the broad expanse of his chest are all only made hotter by the knowledge that he likes Carole King and Elton John (he knew all the words to Tiny Dancer) and blueberry pancakes.

Plus there was that whole punching a guy to defend your honor business.

The guy at the motel's front desk reminds you of Marvin. Greasy blond hair and acne on a kid not much younger than you. You give him a disgusted look when he eyes you up, but he cuts it out when Mando walks in behind you. It gives you a small sense of satisfaction to see him so meek before your companion.

"We need a double for the night," Mando drawls, counting cash on the counter, cig perched between his lips. The sign advertised a night's stay for $22. You'd tried to pay Mando your share, but he'd refused your money.

The kid shakes his head. "Only got singles available."

Mando raises his brows. "Really."

The kid, whose name is Matt according to his name tag, nods. It takes Mando a moment to think on it, and then he looks to you.

You shrug. "I'm fine with it if you are, Mando."

He nods once and pays for the room. 12. You take the key and head over to get a head start on your shower while Mando parks the truck and gets his stuff.

The hot water feels divine. Even the towel feels great, because as threadbare and shitty as it is, it's clean and warm from sitting under the vent. You finish up in the bathroom and emerge in a pair of old track shorts and a loose-fitting tee.

Mando's sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. His jacket's draped across the table and he's kicked off his boots, so he sits with the remote in hand, barefoot. It's the most casual you've seen him thus far, and it makes your heart race.

"Shower's all yours," you tell him.

Mando looks at you from the corner of his eye. It's hard to tell what he's thinking at any given moment, so you fidget with the hem of your shirt as he looks at you.

A thought blooms unbidden in your chest. I wish I could kiss him.

You blink, taken aback at the sudden, intense nature of your desire to feel his lips against your own. Not knowing what else to do, you cross your arms and turn to the TV. Bonanza is on.

"Seen this episode before?" you ask. It's an old show, but you still like it.

Mando nods, humming. "Used to watch these every week, right when they came out. Only the first few seasons, though."

"Why'd you stop?"

He turns to sit on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the ground. He gives you a small smile, though his eyes hide something pained.

"I got drafted."

Oh. "Oh. I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," he says and gets up, brushing past you to enter the bathroom. The door clicks shut behind him.

You walk over to sit on the other side of the bed from where he was. Drafted. Jesus. You feel bad for bringing it up, even if it was unintentional. The TV plays though you aren't watching, mind wandering to thoughts of Mando in Vietnam. You picture him in the jungle or in a helicopter, the deafening noise of artillery and gunfire filling the air around him.

Maybe that's where he got the nickname. It certainly explains the rifle.

You reach over for the remote and shut off the TV. The clock on the wall reads about 8:00, still early for you, but you tuck yourself under the sheets and blanket regardless. You face the door, away from where Mando will sleep.

Just as you're drifting off, the lamp on the bedside table clicks off. You feel the weight of Mando crawling in beside you, and he too curls up on his side, back turned.

You fall asleep hoping he's not too upset with you.

The next thing you know, you're awake, though the world is still dark outside. Behind you, Mando snores softly, warm breath fanning out across your neck.

Wait.

You blink a few times and realize the two of you must have shifted in the night. Mando's body is pressed right against yours, chest to your back, arm draped over your middle and hand tucked under your chin. Your legs are intertwined and against the back of your thigh you feel -

You feel him.

Sleep is a powerful drug, however, and the realization is not enough to make you move. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you think maybe this isn't so bad. Your tired brain convinces you to revel in it, to enjoy this position you've found yourself in. Before you can second guess that reasoning, you drift off.

And then you're awake again.

This time it's thanks to a rush of cold wind in your face. You reach back to feel for Mando, but the warm pillow tells you he's not there. You open your eyes to see him standing in the doorway, looking down at something. It's still dark out, but the lights of the motel parking lot put him in silhouette before you.

"What is it?" You lean up on your elbow to get a better look. The nighttime air is cool on your face, smelling faintly of gasoline and rain.

He bends down and picks up whatever it is that's in front of him. You watch as he turns to look left, then right, seemingly in search of something. He turns around and you see what he's holding.

It's a baby's carrycot.

You immediately sit up, heart racing. "Is it -?" you whisper.

Mando nods, closing the door behind him. You get out of bed and rush over to stand next to him, peering into the carrier.

Sure enough, there's a baby asleep inside. It looks to be a boy, about a year old. You bring a hand up to your mouth.

"Why - who would - what?"

Mando shakes his head, staring at the little guy. "I don't know. I heard a knock at the door and there he was - no sign of anyone else."

"We should - what do we do, Mando?"

He brings the carrier over to rest on the table beside his jacket. The boy is out cold - his little hands grip the blue knitted blanket and his mouth is just barely open. He's got dark hair, wispy and soft atop his head. As you observe the sleeping child, you notice the corner of a small piece of paper tucked in between the blanket and the cradle. You reach out and grasp it between your thumb and forefinger, unfolding it carefully.

"What does it say?" Mando whispers. Your voices are low so as to not disturb the child.

"Grogu. Please take him far from here," you read, and feel your blood run cold as the note goes on. "Not safe in this area. His father is dangerous."

It's scrawled in blue ink on half a sheet of lined notebook paper, the fringe from being torn still attached. Your hands shake as it hits you - there's some mother out there so scared for her son that she left him in the care of strangers. That there's a man out there who legitimately threatens this boy's life.

Tears form at the corners of your eyes, rage and sadness simmering in your chest.

"We have to, Mando." Your words are shaky but certain. The man beside you rests a hand on the carrycot, still looking at the sleeping child within.

You turn your eyes to him. He nods, solemn.

"Let's let him rest. We'll leave in the morning, get as far west as we can. Might even be able to make Texas if we leave early enough. We can figure it out from there."

His other hand brushes against your back, and then he's drawing you into his chest. The embrace is soft, unhurried, and you lean your head against his shoulder, hands tucked against his chest. Letting your eyes slip closed, you think back on the previous day, how you never could have predicted this turn of events. How you've never felt so uncertain of things, even when you'd lost everything.

Together you return to bed, but neither of you gets much sleep.

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