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mysterioushogwartsrequests · 4 years ago

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Hello! Can I request an imagine with Draco and a Slytherin! Reader where they both are totally in love with each other and maybe one day in class Draco is being particularly needy/frustrated one day and she’s his partner and sees he’s super hard and she teases him but when class is over he asks the reader to give him a blowjob because he loves her mouth and he’s just so whiny and he later spoils the hell out of his girl at Hogsmeade!

This is literally SOOOO LONG!! I don’t know why I wrote so much, but I just really wanted to include all that stuff, lol. My excuse for the length is that I hit a 1,000 followers about two days ago so this is the celebratory piece!

This goes without saying, but this piece contains a lot of sexual content so please do not read if you are underage or uncomfortable with said topics. I also wrote this in a different perspective because I wanted to try it out so I hope you enjoy!

Warning: SMUT, Oral (Male Receiving)

Title: Princess

ϟ ϟ ϟ

It was a warm summer’s day, close to the start of the new term. These past few weeks at Malfoy Manor had been tense and Draco often found himself rather stressed . A large part of him felt guilty for leaving his mother at home in the presence of Lord Voldemort, but another part of him felt grateful to be out of his sight. Finally, he could escape the Dark Lord’s watchful eyes, but he could not escape the plan set for him to complete.

Draco’s eyebrows knitted together as he squinted towards the merchandise wall inside Twilfitt and Tattings. Even when he was not around, Draco could still sense the Dark Lord’s influence and the constant reminder of the outcome if he were to fail. However, as he thought of better ways to mend the vanishing cabinet, something caught his attention.

“Draco darling,” You called to him, stepping out of the changing room with a small smile on your face. Draco’s eyes widened in an instant, a lump forming in his throat as he examined the champagne dress clinging to your body. It was a delicate number with thin, spaghetti strap sleeves attached to the cowl-neck gown, the silk fabric shimmering softly as you stepped onto the podium.

With a content hum, Draco pushed himself off the wall, his grey eyes locked with yours in the shop mirror as he walked towards you. He rested his hand against your waist, his fingers tenderly sliding down to feel the smooth silk against them, “You look ravishing,” he whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss against the shell of it before stepping back to get a better view of you.

You smiled satisfyingly, taking a moment to admire the all-black ensemble he wore and how it slimmed him down in all the right places. He stood in a black turtleneck and a fitted suit jacket, his left hand in the pocket of his slacks while the thumb of the other swiped over his bottom lip. A string of questions crossed through Draco’s mind, “When would you wear this?” he thought, tapping his finger against his chin.

Surely, there was no surprise ball this year, he would’ve heard by now. “Would you wear it on a date?” he questioned, imagining a scenario where the two of you ate dinner at a fancy restaurant, illuminated by just candlelight. “Even better,” Draco trailed off, his eyes lingering over your arse as you admired yourself in the mirror, looking over your shoulder to see the diamond detail that connected the open back, “What would such an expensive piece of clothing look like on his dormitory floor?”

Draco recalled the conversation he shared with his mother a week prior, where she had counseled him after a particularly difficult day. Narcissa Malfoy had an interesting way of comforting her son. Of course, she sat and listened to him, holding him as he cried, a mixture of guilt and failure coursing through her veins as she fought against the Dark Lord’s plans for her beloved son. The next day, however, she entered Draco’s room with a smile and presented a brand-new wardrobe for him as a start of term gift.

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Draco gave a gentle smile and looked up at you, instantly meeting your hopeful eyes.

“Oh, those eyes”

“I’m not sure if I should get it,” You admitted, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as you hopped off the podium and halted in front of the platinum-haired boy. Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath, captivated by the intoxicating smell of vanilla radiating off your body. An exquisite aroma, packaged in a —hand-blown— glass perfume bottle with delicate golden leaves painted onto it, finished off with your initials carved at the bottom of it.

Another one of Draco’s thoughtful gifts.

“And why is that?” asked Draco, his hand resting against the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing small circles against your jaw. The dress was cut just right, the tight, draped bodice granted him a wonderful view of your breasts, but he looked away to halt the tightening of his pants.

“I’ve got no occasion for a dress like this,” declared a slightly defeated (Y/N), taking another glance in the mirror, “Well, we’ve still got the goodbye dinner with your parents” You recalled, running your hands down your hips, unintentionally catching Draco’s attention as he remembered the family dinner he had forgotten about.

“That settles it then,” announced Draco in a chipper tone, “I’ll buy the dress,” he grinned, stepping towards his girlfriend, but halting by the display of diamond accessories. With a glance over the merchandise, he pointed at a necklace set with a pair of earrings, receiving praises from the shopkeeper. Taking the necklace from the older wizard, Draco walked over to (Y/N), “turn around,” he uttered and you happily obliged, watching him as he placed the delicate piece around your neck.

“Draco-” you began to protest, but he only pressed a kiss against your cheek, clasping the necklace and letting his fingers linger at the back of your neck. The necklace was a breathtaking, diamond necklace with seven glittering emeralds spread evenly across the center.

“The bracelet and earrings will do nicely as well,” Draco said, nodding his head in approval and signaling for the shopkeeper to begin ringing them up. You opened your mouth to protest again, but Draco placed his finger against your lips, “I believe you recall what I’ve told you, hm?” he teased, raising a questioning eyebrow as (Y/N) nodded, fighting back a smile, “Then, let Daddy spoil you, Princess.”

There was no denying the power Draco’s tone held over you. His words shot straight between your legs, the feeling of his lips pressed against the side of your neck making you fall against him, finally becoming aware of his erection now pressed against your thigh.

“Let's finish up so we can go back to the Manor,” you proposed, shifting your thigh ever so slightly to provide him with some much-needed friction. Draco bit his lip and gave a stiff nod, stepping away from you before you could tease him further.

“Go change,” he ordered, the cocky smirk returning to his lips, “You’ve got five minutes.” Running back towards the dressing room, you peeled off the dress and stepped into your usual clothes, practically sprinting out of it once finished. After a hasty checkout, the two of you exited the shop hand-in-hand, the bag containing your gifts swinging in Draco’s other hand.

ϟ ϟ ϟ

This school year proved to be the most difficult one yet. N.E.W.T.s we’re now less than a year away and it was never too soon to begin revising. You, however, found it quite difficult to focus on school these last few days. Despite his constant reassurances that he was all right, (Y/N) found some of Draco’s recent behavior quite odd. This strange feeling first arose the week you stayed at Malfoy Manor, where the four of them sat cautiously at a table with Draco’s aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. You had always had a good relationship with Draco’s relatives, but it was clear to you something was occurring under wraps, something Draco did not want you to know about. Noting his hesitation whenever you brought up the subject, you decided against prying any more information out of him and returned to your studies. Your dedication to academic achievement, much to your surprise, did not go unnoticed by the new Potions Master at Hogwarts, who had heard all about you and Miss Hermione Granger, the two top students of the sixth year.

Horace Slughorn was a portly, older man, but very gifted with potions and an excellent Professor. Upon arrival, he sought out some of the school’s most promising students and invited them to his office for an elegant dinner. One morning, during breakfast, your owl dropped the intricately decorated envelope right in front of your plate. You had no chance to conceal the envelope from your curious boyfriend, the same one that had tried, without succeeding, to get invited to said dinner.

However, to your surprise, Draco was not upset. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss against your temple and muttered the words, “You deserve it, baby girl.” The pet name sends chills down your spine, a smile playing at your lip as his hand rests upon your knee, the cold metal of his rings easing any sort of tension in your body. His left hand rested against your jawline, his slender fingers twiddling with the pearl earring, admiring the small ruby motif encrusted right above the hanging pearl.

(Y/N) leaned her cheek against his palm, setting the invitation down on the dining hall table, “Are you sure, Darling?” you questioned, taking the time to rest your hand over his, “I might not be able to fit it into my schedule...” you admitted, thoughts of Draco’s mysterious disappearances crossing your mind. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, Draco pressed a soft kiss against the back of it before leaning to press one against your lips.

“I think,” he started, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, “You should go show them what the brightest, most caring, and, without a doubt, sexiest girl in Slytherin House has to offer” Draco praised, giving your thigh a small squeeze before dipping to steal another kiss from you, “How does that sound?” He asked sweetly, showering you with yet another kiss, this one against your forehead.

It was no secret that Draco Malfoy and (Y/N) (L/N) were truly and undeniably in love. Often, the corridors were filled with the incessant whispers of jealous girls who longed for Draco’s attention, but he paid no attention to them. The Slytherin Prince only had eyes for you, the only constant ray of sunshine in his life. Whenever he looked at you, he reminded himself of his vow to keep you completely satisfied, and the only reward he wanted was seeing that gorgeous smile on your face. You were everything to him. You were the only one who knew about his previous family troubles, the one who would hold him when he cried during the late hours of the evening. The one who would fix his tie the second it seemed out of place, the one who would rub his shoulders whenever you noticed him bent over his assignments.

He would do everything and anything to ensure you felt like the luckiest girl in the world because he knew you, out of all people, deserved it the most.

”You make an excellent point, Mr. Malfoy,” You grinned, nodding your head in agreement, and flinging your arms around his shoulders. A soft smile crept up Draco’s lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest and placing a kiss at the top of your head.

“Don’t I always?” teased Draco, running his fingers through your hair as the other students exited the Great Hall and made their way towards the classes. Rolling your eyes at his response, you placed your hand against his cheek, stealing a kiss from him this time and rising from your seat.

“We should go,” you announced, stretching your hand out for him to grab, which he happily obliged, rising from the bench and escorting you to your classroom.

ϟ ϟ ϟ

A week had passed since Slughorn’s dinner party, the memory of the evening still fresh in Draco’s mind as he tapped his fingers against the wooden desk. Needless to say, he was not particularly pleased with the events of last Saturday. One of Slughorn’s guests had taken quite the liking to you, practically undressing you with his eyes during breakfast hours, something Draco found incredibly disrespectful. He recalled the way Cormac McLaggen eyed you this morning when you bent over to kiss your boyfriend goodbye, skipping out of the Great Hall without a care in the world.

Draco clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as his eyebrows knitted together, sparks of frustration igniting within him. Not only was McLaggen ogling you like you were his last meal, but he was also casually brushing up beside you in the corridors, shooting Draco arrogant smirks when they locked eyes.

Oh, how he would love to jinx that insufferable look off his face. Yeah, that’ll show him.

He should have been paying attention to Professor Flitwick discussing the proper hand movement for the Gouging Spell, but the thoughts of McLaggen badgering you when he was not around boiled his blood. In hindsight, it was a good thing he was neglecting this lesson because the prospect of gouging a large hole through Cormac seemed very appealing.

You were particularly busy this week and did not have a lot of time to spend with Draco. Sure, the two of you bid your usual goodnights in the Slytherin common room, but your studying had kept you away from Draco. Due to this, Draco Malfoy was left very touch starved and found himself daydreaming of your earlier rendezvous around the castle.

Draco turned his head towards you, his face relaxing at once as he watched you diligently taking notes, as usual. You had your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing it softly as your quill scratched against the parchment. With a content sigh, he admired your concentration and wondered how a person could be that gorgeous. He was, truly, the luckiest man in the world when it came to you.

He supposed that one could not blame McLaggen for falling for you- I mean, who wouldn’t? Any person would be swept off their feet if you entered the room wearing those silk dresses you were oh so fond of. Draco glanced down at those pretty, pink lips of yours, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as you parted them, tongue swiping over your upper lip as you added the final details to your diagram.

Biting his lip, Draco forced his attention towards Professor Flitwick, but it was already too late. The thoughts of you, sprawled across his bed at Malfoy Manor were enough to replace his earlier frustrations with feelings of lust.

“Stop,” thought Draco, closing his eyes to contain his feelings, but it was no use. Your lips made an “O” shape when you finally grasped the Charms concepts, making goosebumps appear on Draco’s skin as he shuddered.

What he would do to have you begging for him right now.

His pants grew considerably tighter and he couldn’t help but feel grateful towards the school uniforms. The robe he was wearing did a decent job at hiding his current problem, but he knew it would be noticeable when he stood. However, that did not stop him from hearing the way you called his name in the back of his head.

“Please, Draco...”

“Fuck,” cursed Draco under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, a slight touch of pink dusting his cheeks. Unable to keep his eyes away, Draco looked back towards you, scanning the soft skin of your neck, and noting how awfully bare it looked. With his self-restraint wavering, he subtly slid down the bench you shared and rested his hand on your knee, something he did quite often. However, you did not question him until you felt his lips against your neck and a hand wrapped tightly around your thigh. Turning your head to face him, you were surprised to see him with his hand over his mouth, his eyes averted from yours as his fingers danced against the smooth skin of your inner thigh.

“Draco,” you cooed, but the only response you received was a rather harsh nip at your neck, “Draco, someone will see…”

“I don’t care,” Draco snarled against your ear, “I need this bloody class to be over…” He murmured in a much softer tone, his hand rubbing circles against your thigh and inching closer to your clothed heat. But once you turned to scold him, you noticed the dark, red blush that painted his cheeks and felt his hot breath fanning against your face.

“Are you alright?” you asked cautiously, innocently rubbing your thumb against his thigh, but that only made Draco twitch in his seat, and his reaction suddenly lit the bulb over your head. Your lips curled into a smirk as your hand moved closer to the bulge on Draco’s pants, turning your attention towards the front of the class as you continued your movements.

Luckily, the two of you sat at the farthest end of the Charms classroom, away from any overly inquisitive eyes. You were certain nobody would notice, if Draco kept his cool, the two of you would be in the clear.

“Couldn’t even wait till class was over?” You tutted, delicately tracing your fingers over his crotch, and smirking as he shifted in his seat, “Be careful, I don’t want us to get caught.” You added, firmly cupping his erection through his slacks, a wide grin spreading across your face as he doubled down and hid his face behind a book he propped up. It was honestly quite surprising to see Draco this way. Usually, he would be the one teasing you to no end, but you were currently in control and that was enough to light the fire of your arousal.

“D-Don’t stop,” Draco pleaded under his breath, biting down on his thumb to hold back a moan as your palm worked to release the built-up tension. Encouraged by his dick twitching underneath your hand, you quickened your pace and watched as he parted his lips, struggling to keep any sound from coming out. As his breathing grew more ragged, you felt his abdominal muscles tense up against your touch, indicating that his release would wash over him soon.

Fighting to keep the small sense of composure he had left, Draco gripped (Y/N)’s wrist and halted her movements. It took him a minute to catch his breath, but when he did, he spoke in a low whisper, “Wait...” His eyes never met yours because if he looked into those beautiful eyes of yours, he would not be able to control himself. And although the prospect of taking you over the desk seemed quite promising, he did not fancy the idea of letting the rest of the student body see you bent over in such a vulnerable state.

That was only for him, of course.

“What’s wrong, Darling?” You teased letting your fingers trace over his crotch again, but he only clicked his tongue at you. Draco knew you too well, he knew you were only trying to rile him up again, but he could not let that happen, not right now. With adrenaline coursing through your body, you leaned towards Draco and let your breath fan against his neck before licking a stripe behind his ear, “Didn’t want to come all over those expensive slacks of yours, hm?” You murmured, gently nipping his earlobe, and taking his momentary lapse of strength to palm his erection once more.

Draco gritted his teeth once again, pulling your hand away from his pants, “I said wait,” he growled, his lust-clouded eyes finally meeting yours, “You do know how to follow instructions, don’t you?” He asked in a much harsher, more desperate tone.

“Depends on who’s giving them.” You replied sarcastically, placing your free hand on his knee with a smirk.

However, Draco did not get a chance to shoot his response back at you. Once the bell signaling the end of class rang, he shot up off his seat and gathered both your belongings before taking your hand and hastily pulling you out of the classroom. A few students stared as the two of you rushed down the hall, blushing in embarrassment as you stumbled after Draco.

His hand gripped yours tightly, leading you towards the Prefects’ bathroom, and stuttering out the password once the two of you arrived. Flinging your book bags across the floor, Draco turned and stalked towards you making you step back until your back hit something solid.

“Think you’re funny, are you?” sneered Draco, pinning you against one of the cubicles, his thigh pressed firmly between your legs and his right forearm braced beside your head. Replicating your earlier movements, Draco dragged his tongue underneath your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, making you gasp. “Why don’t we put that filthy mouth of yours to better use?” He cooed, blowing a puff of air against your ear, and admiring it as it turned red.

With a sudden burst of confidence, you gripped his robes and pulled his face towards yours, breaths mingling together, “I think,” You muttered, leaning your lips close to his, “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day…” Looking up at his half-lidded eyes, you crashed your lips against Draco’s, fingers immediately tangling themselves in his hair. Draco returned your kiss eagerly, his hands cupping your arse underneath your skirt and pulling your body flush against his.

You could feel Draco growing more impatient by the minute. His hands were grabbing desperately at your skin, squeezing every inch of bare flesh he could feel. Longing to have you closer to him, Draco slipped his hand underneath your thigh and hooked it over his hip, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. Your back arched off the wall, hips grinding against Draco’s as your tongues laced together in a heated kiss. Tugging at your tie, Draco reached to unbutton your blouse and pulled it open, exposing your bra-clad breasts.

He pressed his lips against the base of your neck, biting and sucking encouraged by your moans beside his ear. One of his hands held your thigh firmly while the other kneaded your left breast, pulling the fabric of your bra down and taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You gasped harshly, bucking into him, and digging your fingers into his hair, messing up the parts that remained previously neat. Draco rolled his erection against your soaked panties, smiling down at your face as his hands kneaded your clothed breasts, “So pretty,” he murmured, captivated by your flushed face and the shameful sounds passing through your lips.

Your hands reached up to grab his face, pulling him down for another kiss. This time, using the momentum to switch your positions so Draco’s back hit the stall door, earning a small moan of surprise from him. Grinning up at him, you pressed your lips against his neck and slid your hand down the front of his body, cupping him firmly as you sucked the sensitive skin.

Draco let out gasping breaths as you moved your hand, his fingers digging into your waist, “On your knees,” commanded Draco, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You obliged happily, dropping down to your knees and lazily running your fingers over his thighs before reaching up for his belt. After fiddling with the buckle, you took your time sliding Draco’s slacks down, purposely neglecting his throbbing dick hidden in his underwear.

“Don’t be a tease,” snapped Draco, gripping your chin harshly, “Suck,” He commanded firmly, releasing you as you pulled down his boxer briefs. Draco’s thick length snapped up towards his lower abs, almost slapping you in the face when it sprung out of its constraints. Almost drooling at the glorious sight of his cock, you took it in your hand, running your thumb over the pre-cum leaking out of the reddened tip. Draco bucked his hips forwards, hissing at the light touch, and looking down at your concentrated expression as you slowly pumped your hand.

Lolling your tongue out dramatically, you leaned forwards and gave the tip a kitten lick, earning a frustrated groan from Draco. Satisfied with his discomfort, you gave the swollen tip another kiss before taking his length fully into your mouth. He let out a strangled gasp in response, his eyes squeezed shut as you enthusiastically licked up his length. Sealing off your lips, much like a vacuum seal, you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, tongue swirling around it as Draco trembled underneath you, his hand over his mouth attempting to stifle the sounds coming out of it.

Draco looked down at you, unable to control the string of low moans and grunts spewing from his lips. The sight of your plump lips stretching around his cock made him lose the few ounces of coherent thoughts he had left in his mind. Draco let out another strangled moan, throwing his head back against the stall door as you swirl your tongue around his shaft and use your hand to pump the base of his cock. His hand flew to the back of your head when you moved to take all of him in your mouth, your nose brushing the trimmed tufts of hair as you choked around him, the contraction of your throat making him groan out your name.

With another husky moan, Draco balled your hair up into a ponytail and used it as leverage to thrust into your mouth. “Yes, yes,” whimpered Draco, his face flushed red and his breath caught in his throat, “Just like that, (Y/N)” he hissed, his grey eyes flickering down and meeting yours, making his roll back again as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your fingernails dug into the back of his thighs, squeezing them tighter as he quickened his pace. You moaned around his dick, the vibrations sending a violent quake through his body as he face-fucked you, his climax only moments away.

“Ah, you take my cock so well, Princess” groaned Draco, his pace stuttering, “You’re so bloody gorgeous” He sighed, his fingers delving tightly into your hair as you continued to swirl your tongue around the shaft, relaxing your jaw to let the tip of his penis hit the back of your throat.

The sounds coming from Draco’s mouth had you soaking wet and yearning to feel his load shoot down your throat. Determined to finish him off, you moved your hand to fondle his balls, moaning with satisfaction as his cock pulsated in your mouth. His breaths grew ragged and the only sounds coming from him were small whimpers and grunts. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, his platinum blonde hair fell messily over his eyes, which were currently screwed shut as his face twisted with pleasure.

Draco’s eyes fluttered open, meeting your eager ones for a second time, but it was too much. Cursing loudly, Draco’s pace grew sloppier and rougher, his body trembling as you fondled his balls once again.

“(Y/N)!” He cried out as you gagged around him, thick ropes of cum coating the inside of your mouth as he came, hard. You struggled to swallow his heavy load, but you were adamant on taking every last drop, just how he liked it. Draco gasped as he caught his breath, his hand still in your hair as he gave your mouth two final shallow thrusts, pulling out as you licked him clean.

With his chest heaving, Draco delicately placed his hand against your cheek and slid his thumb over your swollen lips. You press a chaste kiss against the pad of his thumb, the corners of your mouth curling up into a loving smile. He brought you back up to your feet, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all tongue before pulling away with a satisfied smile on his face.

“You’re quite chipper now, aren’t you?” You teased, hitting him playfully on the shoulder as he pulled his slacks up, tucking his shirt back into his pants and shooting you a wink.

“Yes, actually,” He retorted, his usual smirk appearing on his lips, “And why is that?” You asked, taking the time to button your own shirt, blushing as Draco stalked towards you. He placed his hand on the side of your neck, pulling down your collar to admire the angry, red marks that decorated it.

With a small huff, he dipped down and sucked on the spot below your jaw, your knees buckling and hands gripping his shoulders as he bit down. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Draco pulled away, smirking at the mark that would surely be visible for days.

“Because I’m the only one who gets to have you like this,” admitted Draco, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin atop your head, “Can’t wait until I catch McLoser drooling over you, I’ll make sure to remind him who he’s dealing with.”

You laughed at Draco’s declaration, your arms tightening around him as you embraced, “Are you ready for lunch then? He could already be there” You teased, pressing a kiss against his nose, and pulling away to pick up your bag from the bathroom floor. Draco chuckled as you skipped back towards him, giving your behind a playful smack as you walked past him, “Don’t run off thinking I won’t return the favor,” stated Draco salaciously, catching your hand and pulling you back before you could exit the bathroom.

You looked up at him with a curious expression, “Is that so?” You questioned with a grin, walking towards him, and placing your hand on his chest, “Is it something I should look forward to?” You asked, tilting your head to the side innocently.

Draco laughed, raising his hand to cup your cheek, “Come to my room tonight at eleven, wearing that pretty little dress from Twilfitt and Tattings,” muttered Draco, his lips close to yours once again, “I’ll make it worth your while,” he winked, his fingers dipping underneath your skirt to swipe over your clothed core.

Shivering under his touch, you blushed embarrassingly as he examined the slick now coating his finger, “All for me, Princess?” He teased, contently licking his finger clean and grabbing his own book bag, “Actually, I was thinking about McLaggen” you quipped, stepping out of the Prefect’s bathroom with a bounce in your step which Draco followed after, his eyebrows furrowed as he flanked you.

“Careful, Love” warned Draco with a hum, his hand sliding into yours as you walked, “or I’ll have to teach that naughty mouth of yours another lesson.”

ϟ ϟ ϟ

Your four-year anniversary drew nearer, and you found yourself worried about Draco’s behavior yet again. He grew increasingly distant as the term progressed and you could not help but worry, despite his constant reassurances, stating there was nothing to worry about. This, again, left you feeling frustrated. You and Draco started dating during your third year and it had taken a while to break down his walls to understand him, but now it seemed like some of that progress was overturned.

However, when he was around, he always made the effort to shower you with affection and ensure you were being taken care of. Draco knew your habits better than anything, he knew you would be questioning his behavior and launching your own investigations to find the underlying cause of it, but he could not let you interfere. He was already under fire for having ‘distractions’ and had promised the Dark Lord nothing would come in the way of his success.

To keep you safe, you had to be left in the dark. It wounded Draco to see that distraught expression on your face when he came into the common room past midnight, sometimes even asleep, curled up on the couch waiting for him to return. He felt guilty for putting you through all this, but it was necessary for your safety and nothing was more important than protecting you.

His nights were constantly haunted by horrifying images of you injured or worse, dead in his arms after some terrible mistake he made. These thoughts were constantly wearing him down, but he could not tell you, it was just too risky to involve you in this situation. This stressful internal struggle encouraged Draco to show you how much you meant to him.

He wanted you to know that you were, truly, the most important person in his life.

“Draco,” You whined with your hands over your eyes as Draco led you through the empty streets of Hogsmeade, “Can’t I just open my eyes? I’ve been to Hogsmeade plenty of times” you reminded him, but he only chuckled beside you, holding you by the waist as you walked.

“I’m trying to surprise you,” Draco stated, rolling his eyes, “So why don’t you stop complaining and follow me.” He declared, pressing a kiss against your cheek, and leading you towards the clothing shops in the village. Draco halted in front of a large store window, looking up at the dress and envisioning you in them with a proud grin.

“Alright,” he started, grabbing the hands that covered your face, “Ready?” He murmured, pressing a kiss against her fingertips as you nodded. Counting to three, Draco pulled your hands away from your face and stepped out of your view, letting you take in the sight before you.

In front of you stood a tall mannequin wearing a floor-length shimmering, emerald green gown with small silver detailing the bust, “Wow” you muttered breathlessly, leaning closer to the window to get a better look of the design. The mannequin turned 180 degrees, giving her a better view of the open back and long train that followed the dress.

“Do you like it?” Draco asked, looking down at his ring with a content smile on his face.

Your eyes scanned over the glittering, diamond pendant necklace complete with matching water drop earrings, “It’s gorgeous,” you replied, looking over at your boyfriend with a puzzled expression, “Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?” You asked, quirking your eyebrow at him as he laughed.

“You know me well, Darling” Draco admitted sheepishly, leading you towards the door of the stop and holding it open, “I just thought, since you’ve been attending Slughorn’s dinner parties, that you would need some more evening outfits to show off,” He stated proudly, his hand against the small of your back as he gestured you towards the changing rooms.

“Draco, I couldn’t possibly! You bought me one at the start of term!” You protested, grabbing his hands but part of you knew his mind was already made up.

“You’re right,” He agreed with a nod, placing his hand against your cheek, “And I’m going to buy you four more today,” He stated nonchalantly, looking back at the four sets of the dresses brought over by the shopkeeper, “You better get started,” he urged, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of the dressing room.

With a loving smile, you captured Draco’s lips in a kiss, “I love you” You said, squeezing his hand as he returned your smile.

“And I love you most,” He replied, pressing a kiss against your forehead, and urging towards the dressing room, “Come on, I want to see how stunning you look in those.” Giggling, you ran into the changing room, winking back at Draco before sliding the curtain close and getting into the first dress.

Several hours later, you and Draco exited the shop with four bags containing various dresses, jewelry pieces, and, even, a brand-new suit. After one final stop at Honeydukes, the two of you made your way towards the castle, treasuring the time you spent together and the memories you created while doing so.

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy reader insert #draco x slytherin #Harry Potter #Harry Potter Smut #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy x reader smut #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts request #hogwarts fan fiction #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts mystery fanfic

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tenseoyong · 4 years ago

Note

ahh hello hello! would u be willing to write a first times w haechan like u did w mark ,, m in love w ur writing it’s all so cute :]

whereas mark is super timid and cautious, haechan is very sure of himself. he’s confident, and likes to tease his partner a lot, finding your reactions both adorable and hilarious. it’s all good natured, but haechan absolutely teases the living hell out of his partner. he goads his partner a lot, teasingly asking for a kiss or suggesting you spend the night, but leaves your response up to you.

in fact, your first kiss gave him quite the shock. haechan is always puckering his lips at you, taunting you with air kisses and (jokingly) begging for kisses every time you turn around, “yah, i did the dishes like you asked, i think that deserves a little kiss, don’t you?” and he just laughs it off when you flick his lip instead, shaking your head at him and wandering off. his teasing wasn’t malicious, you knew, but it was satisfying to wipe that smug look off his face. cuddling during a movie night, haechan hogging the popcorn bowl decided it was time for another taunt, jokingly puckering his lips at you when you asked for the bowl, “the price is a kiss, you gonna pay up or starve?” the genuine surprise and shock, that blended to excitement and happiness when you rolled your eyes, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before snagging the bowl was priceless. for a moment, he’d thought he imagined it. but he hadn’t, and honestly, it just made him hungry for more. so he pouted and leaned into your side, puppy dog eyes on display, “that was so quick, i think another kiss might pay off your debts, don’t you think?”

haechan wasn’t pushy, but he was easily excited and an eager one to say the least. once he’d got his foot in the door (so to speak) haechan went to work seeing how far he could go. he wouldn’t cross any boundary you’ve set, but he would definitely go right up to the line, and patiently wait your reaction; if you gave him the green light or not. wearing shorts or a skirt we’re just so easy for him to start teasing you, brushing a hand up your bare thigh, sneaking his hand just beneath the hem of your skirt, and then looking to you, eyebrow raised and a clear look of “can i?” in his eyes. in his bedroom, alone for once, you wouldn’t find a better time. you’d thought you’d told the boy he won the lottery when you voiced your consent—and then clothes went flying. haechan’s eagerness and easy going personality definitely made taking the next step less nerve wracking than you’d imagined it would be—he was sure of himself, how to proceed and how to please you well as he laid himself out on the bed, eye level with your bare core. he’d swung your legs over his shoulders, keeping your spread and unable to close your legs or shy away from him while he explored the new territory.

haechan wasn’t fool enough to believe you’d be instantly wet, and wasn’t deterred at all before he set his mouth to work. he knew what to do, but he didn’t expect how sensitive to touch you’d be, nearly bucking him off the second his warm tongue brushed over your clit. he only laughed, and pressed his hands to your hips, keeping them pinned, “haven’t even touched you and you’re twitching—it’s nice to know no ones made you feel this way before...i’ll make you feel good, just lay back and relax..” he focused heavily on your clit, kitten licking and suckling the small bundle of nerves until you were wiggling in his hold, quiet moans and soft whimpers while he worked his tongue over you; gently prodding your entrance, feeling you slowly growing wetter and wetter with each swipe of his tongue. he soothed your fear when he felt you instinctively tense up when he eased a single finger into your core for the first time, smoothing his free hand over your hips and thighs, softly cooing to you, “relax, i got you, i got you. just breath.” until you settled down again. it pleased him how you relaxed more after feeling two of his fingers gently thrusting until your wet pussy, noting that it wasn’t painful or even mildly uncomfortable, a small fear being squashed in your mind. he paid attention to your clit more than anything, choosing to continue stimulating your clit with quick kitten licks and suckling over penetration, leading you into a quick orgasm; distracting you while he carefully worked his fingers inside you, scissoring his fingers to open you up for him.

while he’s kind of a brat the whole time, haechan does put his teasing attitude aside for the final act; slipping into a more cautious, gentle, soothing sort of role. settling his weight on you, one hand caught between your bodies to guide his aching member into your soaked core. he barely has the tip in, just enough to not need his hand’s guidance so he can smooth it up your side; trying to distract you and sooth you a bit, his other hand cupping your jaw and leading you into a tender, passionate kiss while he finally starts to slowly burying himself in your heat. he can feel you tense up the further he moves, the feeling of him inside you completely foreign, mildly strange but surprisingly not what you’d expected, either. haechan stills as soon as he’s buried to the hilt, just continuing to smother you in kisses, wandering hands squeezing at your waist, massaging your breast and smoothing up your twitching thighs, barely pulling away enough to whisper, “relax, you’re okay, you’re okay. it’s just me and you, i got you. tell me when you’re okay.”

first time!haechan is a very slow lover. as soon as he gets the green light, he’s withdrawing from you as gently as he can possibly manage, you barely feeling it beyond losing that feeling of fullness before he’s slowly sinking back in. he’s much less a thruster, as he is a grinder. very shallow, small thrusts while grinding his hips into you, more focused on letting you become accustomed to being full, thank jack-hammering away like a madman. instead, haechan keeps his steady, shallow pace and continues his fun with your clit. a hand sneaking down between your rocking bodies to toy with the sensitive nerves, groaning lowly against your lips when he feels you jump, feels your pussy clenching around him at the sudden pleasure again. you cum again before he does, haechan’s fingers on your clit never ceasing for a moment until he’s got your legs twitching, your fingers digging into his back while you whimper against his lips, inexperienced hips bucking into his while you fall apart in his arms. he doesn’t chase his own, though, hearing you whine, sensitive and overstimulated for the night; against his personal wishes he pulls out, wrapping his fist around his slick member and quickly working himself to completion; you still under him, bare, covered in sweat and the most adorable, fucked out look on your face has him spilling himself across your bare tummy until he’s collapsed on top of you, uncaring about the sweat and fluids sticking to the both of you for the moment.

after catching his breath, haechan does a little clean up—fetching a warm rag to wipe the sticky sweat and his cum off your tummy, gently cleaning your worn out pussy as much as he can with you twitching away every time the rag touches you. he’s a lot less teasing afterwards, more comforting when haechan crawls into bed beside you, smoothing your messy hair out of your face and pulling you in for a few sweet kisses, “i dare say you’re no longer a virgin, what do you think? was it all you hoped for, because im not opposed to doing it again to...get it right, if you want...”

#nct #haechan #nct smut #nct reactions #nct scenario #haechan smut #haechan scenario

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lexacoolfox · 4 years ago

Note

hi I see u write for angels of deaths so can I have headcanons of rengoku, obanai, and sanemi with a male s/o who acts like Isaac foster please if it’s not too much trouble for u.

This should be fun, thanks for the suggestion!

Rengoku, Obanai, and Sanemi with a S/O like Isaac Foster!

Rengoku meet you on your first mission. He was casually walking around but then heard this loud, insane, laughing. Now a normal person would walk away. But Rengoku was a little concerned, so he followed the laughing.

He found you chasing a demon, while laughing. You didn’t have a sword like most demon slayers you had a scythe. That alone would give somebody the chills. That laughing just amplified it. Rengoku thought you probably were laughing just hide your fear.

You eventually caught the demon and sliced off its head. You just laughed even louder when it head flew off.

“You seem to be having fun…”

You turn around.

“Yeah! It’s so much fun! I just enjoy slicing things up! It’s even more fun when they try run away.”

You slightly chuckle.

“Your demon slayer right? One of the pillars! Judging by your outfit and hair your the flame pillar.”

“Yes! I’m Kyojuro Rengoku! Might I know your name.”

“The names y/n. Well I better get going. I’m not done having fun yet. See ya!”

Then you walk away to find more demons to terrorize.

Rengoku thought you were a very interesting individual. You used a scythe, you enjoyed what you were doing, and you had bandages all across your body. Even around your face. He could only see your eyes and mouth. Your head was also covered by a hood and some hair.

He found you again during the day and you looked confused as you look at buildings.

“Hello! It’s seems we meet again! You look slightly confused do you need help?

“Don’t tell anyone this or I’ll slice you up. But…I can’t…read!”

Kyojuro then gave you a blank look.

“Hey don’t give me that look! Nobody taught me how! You know what I’m outta here!!”

“I’m sorry! it’s just I wasn’t expecting that answer! But what are you trying to read for?”

“I’m hungry and I’m trying to figure out which are restaurants and which are just normal stores.”

“Well I’ve been here before! I’ll show you good place to eat!”

After that he dragged you to a restaurant.

He even paid for your food. Which you thanked him for.

You saw him looking at your bandages.

“You wanna know why I wear these right?”

He got embarrassed by the fact that you noticed him staring at them but nodded

“Well when I was a kid my dad would get drunk very often. One day he poured alcohol on me and lit me on fire. My whole body got burned and I wear these bandages to cover myself up.”

You finished and went back to eating your food. Rengoku was shocked to hear this. He can relate to having a alcoholic father. He understood that his father temper could get pretty bad. But his father would never take it that far.

After that, you two started seeing each other more, he started to really enjoy your company.

Soon enough you started to fall for him. But one night made you terrified of him. It’s when you saw his breathing form for the first time.

You saw fire come out from his sword and froze. You backed up against a tree and sat down. You started having a mini panic attack. Rengoku noticed once he finished off the demon.

When he saw you he instantly worried. He kept asking you what’s wrong but you couldn’t respond. So he just comforted you.

Eventually you calmed down and told him your afraid of fire.

Rengoku felt so bad and apologize over and over again. Cause he started to feel something for you too.

You told him it’s fine and you’ll be more prepared next time.

Eventually you two got together, and were a cute couple. During the day you were more calm and a little rude. Like Obanai but just a bit nicer. At night you were completely insane but Rengoku always got you out here of your blood craze if things started to get out hand.

Now when you meet his father.

You absolutely despised him. The fact that your amazing boyfriend had a father like him. Like your dad. Made your blood boil.

His brother on the one other hand was an angel to you. He wasn’t loud or energetic like your boyfriend. But calm and quite, just a bit shy. You would sometimes smile at him and ruffle his hair.

“Your brother is a good kid kyo.”

Even though you can’t stand his father you willing to try to get along for your boyfriend and his brother.

Obanai meet you when he was informed that a suspicious person was going around killing demons. But they weren’t part of the demon slayer corps. His master wanted you part of the corps, since he heard so many good things about you.

Obanai was searching when he heard manic laughter. He followed the laughter to see you saying demons with an scythe, now he would never admit it but he was truly impressed. You were pretty ruthless.

But the fact that you were enjoying it and laughing like you had lost your mind. Kinda made him uneasy.

After you were finished he jumped down but landed on a stick which cause it to snap. Then you quickly turned around and in mere seconds had the scythe to his neck.

He looked into your eyes and saw you also had two different eye colors. One red and on (e/c)

(A/n: e/c stand for your eye color)

Once you noticed it was a person, you moved the scythe away from his neck. As much as you like killing you would prefer not to be arrested for murder of a human.

“You sure are brave. I was just a few seconds short from ripping your guts out. Your lucky I look at my victims before killing them.”

He was still kinda in shocked but quickly composed himself and started talking

“Well, I would’ve been just fine. I’m a pillar after all of the demon slayer corps. I’ve been sent to retrieve you and bring you to my master.”

You looked at him and chuckled

“And why would I listen to you. There’s no way I’m taking orders from a shorty like you.”

That got him very irritated

“It wasn’t a request it was a demand!”

You weren’t no longer smiling you had a truly made face on

“Like I said, I’m not going to listen to you. Tell your ‘master’ that I’m doing my own thing. I don’t need to be apart of some group to do what I like. You keep testing my patience, I’ll do to you what I do to those demons!”

You said walking away. For some reason he found that it really hot. It made him blush. But he couldn’t return until he brought you with him.

As you continued to slay demons until the sun rose. You stopped when you saw the sun shining, you went into town. You knew Obanai was still following you and at this point you were annoyed

“Listen shorty! Your getting in my last nerves! Stop following me!”

“I can’t return to the corps without you! And stop calling me short I’m fully aware of that! Just stop being so stubborn and come with me!”

“Buy me food and I’ll consider it!”

“Fine!”

Obanai was hungry himself and chose a restaurant that looked good but barely had people. After sitting down you both examined eachother. Both of you had bandages and had different color eyes.

Once your food arrived you started eating and noticed he hadn’t take off your bandages.

“Hey shorty. What’s up with you? Aren’t you going to eat?”

“No. I don’t want to show my mouth.”

“Listen if you think I’m going to judge because of how your mouth looks. Your dead wrong. I mean look at me do you think I’m the type of judge when I myself looks like this. So eat your food!”

Obanai slowly removed his bandages. Then looked at your face waiting for your reaction.

“That’s super cool! That’s an awesome scar!”

You said excitedly. Obanai was shocked by your reaction.

“You know it makes you look kinda hot shorty~ you know maybe I’ll meet your master after all.”

Obanai, blushed heavily, to which you smirk at cause now he doesn’t have the bandages to cover his blush.

After eating you both returned to the demon slayer corps just in time for a pillar meeting. You meet the master and he asked you to become apart of the demon slayer corps. You thought about it and looked at Obanai then agreed.

He assigned you a crow and sent you on a mission.

Overtime you and Obanai got close and would often go on missions together.

You actually became a pillar quickly.

You fell for Obanai quickly as he did for you.

You two got together when one day he was looking at his scar in a mirror which you saw him doing, and knowing what he was thinking. You made your presence known, to which he get flustered. You quickly pull him into a hug comforting him.

Your the only other person that has seen his scar. You didn’t want him to feel that way he felt about himself just because of the scar

“I know you don’t like your scar and I wish it never happened to you. But…”

You hold his his face and started to kiss the scars

“I want you to know that no matter what scars you have. Your beautiful.”

You kisses his mouth. It took him a moment to kiss back but when he did it was a sweet and passionate kiss.

That’s how you two got together

You told him how you got your scars and why you cover it up with bandages. Obanai was livid when you told him. He wanted to kill your old man. Unfortunately you don’t know where he went.

Now it took him a really long time but he eventually told you how he got his scar and you were also livid. You went outside to a forest and were slicing trees, and when demons showed up later that night. Let’s just say demons are going to stay out that forest for the next couple of decades.

Obanai eventually got you out your blood craze.

One things for sure. That your both perfect to each other and that’s all that mattered.

You and Sanemi meet on your first mission. It went surprisingly well.

The first time you two meet each other you said compliments to each other.

“Nice scythe.”

“Thanks. Sick scars.”

“Thanks.”

You guys had a nice chat until sundown. When demon started to appear. You both were ruthless. Sanemi find it both weird and interesting how much you laugh when slaying demons. The fact that you enjoy it, shows that your doing it of yourself own free will. Which he respects, he knows some people do it for the money or somebody told them too.

After fighting you both got some food, and just chatted. You both had a lot in common.

You both started seeing each other more and more. You guys became pretty good friends.

One night while you both slept in a inn for the night, you started moving a lot and mumbling

Sanemi woke you up and asked if you were wrong. You confessed your dream was when your father set you on fire. Sanemi was suprised when you told him about your father. Since he also had an abusive father.

You too grew even closer that night. The next morning you too confessed that you confessed each other.

Now onto what that’s like

You two would often compliment each other on your scars, in private of course.

You two being the greatest demon slayer duo.

You both have a pretty bad temper but you’ve two have never even yelled at each other. Your both kinda afraid of turning into your fathers.

Sanemi often helps you change your bandages when they get changed.

Sanemi only helps you get out your blood craze, if theirs a chance your hurt a human. If it’s happens while fighting demons he’ll let you go wild.

You meet his brother once. Sanemi didn’t know thou. Genya does know your together with his brother so he went to look for you. He had no idea what you looked like.

He found it hilarious that his brother is much taller than him. Your nice to him, and pat him on the head when you see him. You treat him like a younger sibling.

You used to kill demons just because you enjoyed it, but now you have another reason to fight demons. You want a world where you and boyfriend could live in. a world without demons, and peacefully live out the rest of your life’s together.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi x reader #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku x reader #sanemi shinaguzawa #obanai x reader #iguro obanai #kimetsu no yaiba obanai #zack foster #angels of death

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chipper-smol · 4 years ago

Text

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-  “You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”  No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.  “THANK YOU???”  You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood.  As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.  “Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown

------------------------------- By @buglife

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg. “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris

------------------------------- By @payasita

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

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allthingsarmin · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, can i please request an armin x reader but it’s a modern au where armin is a nerd and the reader is popular, feel free to ignore if you don’t like the idea :)

Thank you for your request, anon! I really hope you like it, and I can always rewrite it if it’s not the way you imagined. Also, sorry it is a little long - I think I got carried away with this prompt haha.

The beginning might be a little angsty, but the ending is cute ^_^

GN!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word, mentions of self-doubt, kissing

Word Count: 2,346

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

Things change - sometimes for the better - like how Armin finally cut his bob-length hair and now has a handsome undercut that suits his jawline and like how you are finally growing taller since it seemed like forever that Armin was the taller one.

Things change - sometimes for the worse - like how you and Armin used to be so close in grade school, but now in college, your relationship is made up of awkward smiles in the hallways, small waves when passing each other in the library, and unfinished conversations on SnapChat.

Things fade - relationships come to an end, people move on, and that’s just life. Look at you now, from a quiet person to a popular student known for your humorous remarks, angelic facial features, a delightful sense of style, and your beautifully color-coded notes. You capture hearts with your smile, and you never fail to make anyone laugh with your stupidly funny puns and nonsense. To put it simply, Armin is a bit different - well, you could say nerdy. Quiet, polite, and has as much passion for the world as he does intelligence. Always heavily invested in school and studying as you could almost always find his nose in between the pages of a book or study guide. Poor Armin - not known for his sweet personality or his above average intelligence. Definitely not known for his sense of style but always comes to class dressed in a rather dashing blazer and keeps a couple Kleenex tissues in his left pocket. Armin barely has any friends, - if any - but he always makes sure to hold the door open for strangers, smile at teachers when entering the classroom, and send you a “Happy Birthday!” text every year.

Some things don’t fade - like Armin’s feelings for you even after you two grew apart and he was forced to watch you from the sidelines. How could he not be so deeply in love with you? When you two were close, you coddled up with each other and read books about the ocean, learning about sharks and so naively believing in the theory of Atlantis. You stayed over at each other’s houses and studied together as well as comforted each other if one of you didn’t do as well as you expected on a test. You used to braid his long blond locks as he told you stories about his grandfather. During the summers, you would use chalk to draw a picture of you two on the blistering sidewalks outside his house, and he would give you handmade bookmarks as a present. Even though you two have grown apart, he is still in love with you, watching you laugh from far away. The way your eyes squint out of happiness and the sound of your hearty laughter makes his body heat up and his cheeks rosy. The way you sometimes send him “Good luck!” texts for when there’s a big test in a class you both are taking makes him smile with teary eyes since it seems that you have in fact not forgotten about him and his intense anxiety when it comes to test-taking. The way you ran up to Armin and gripped his arm when you unexpectedly saw him in the campus coffee shop that one time sent a euphoric tingle throughout his body that made him forget how to breathe properly. How could he not love you when you were always there for him, when you remembered every personal detail he told you during late-night childhood sleepovers, when you tried your best to make him love himself? Armin wants so badly to tell you how important you are to him, how he wants to protect you from everything bad in the world, how he wants to wrap his arms around you and listen to your heartbeat… you are just so hard to reach. He is a nerd, a loser, and you are so popular, surrounded by endless amounts of friends… he’s sure your contacts are completely full and DMs flooding with people who are interested in you and are a lot better than him. What was the point in even trying?

Luckily for Armin, you feel the same way. To be honest with yourself, your stupid jokes, loud laughter, and wide smiles were really just a cover-up for how deeply sad you are. No matter how many friends you have or instant messages you receive from strangers online, you feel incredibly alone because none of them are him. Popularity doesn't matter to you anymore - you just miss your best friend so terribly. You missed walking on the beach together, splashing each other with the salty waves, making study-flashcards together, and being able to touch his beautiful blond hair whenever you wanted. Armin’s birthday is coming up, and you want to make your move and do something big for him that would let him know how special he is to you. This time, it wouldn’t involve loads of friends or a loud party with that overly social and fake personality of yours.

You text Armin: “Hey Armin! We haven’t talked in awhile, but your birthday is this Saturday, and I would like to meet up with you. Are you free to go to the beach on Saturday? I want to give you a present, and I just want to catch up with you. I miss my friend!”

Armin read the text with relief. Even if he couldn’t have you the way he wanted, he still wanted more than anything to reconnect with his old friend. “It’s good to hear from you, y/n! I have no plans for Saturday, so of course we can meet up… around 7pm if that’s okay. I want to watch the sunset! And I miss you too…”

Saturday:

It is November, which means it’s cold. At the beach in November? Even colder, so you make sure to dress warmly.

It is 6:59pm, and you trudge through the moist sand, the harsh wind bearing itself against your face making the tip of your nose turn a bright pink as you grip your hoodie close to your body. In the distance, you see Armin sitting on the sand, shoes off and wearing a dark green sweatshirt with a black beanie. Sitting next to him was his backpack - of course he was the type to bring his school work with him while you always brought your violently vibrating phone with you everywhere.

You release a tired breath as you sit next to him in the sand, setting the bag of presents down beside you and keeping your cold hands in your hoodie pocket. A big smile is on your face as you ask him: “Aren’t you cold, Armin? Why don’t you have your shoes on?!” Armin laughs as he turns his face toward you. At this point, you can see how red his cheeks really are, and this is really the first time you’ve noticed how handsome he actually is. The softness of his blond eyelashes beautifully contrast with the sharpness of his jawline. His smile is soft, and his deep blue eyes pierce into yours. “Hahaha, I don’t know. I just haven’t been to the beach in a long time…” he trails off. “It’s ‘cuz you’re so popular now that you don’t have time to hang out with me,” he states in a playfully butt-hurt tone though you can sense that he is indeed a little upset about it. The waves hitting the shore fill the awkward silence between you two. “I know,” you softly say, “but I think about you all the time. I miss you, and I hope we can be close friends again,” you confess. Armin feels his heart flutter when you say that you miss him. He wants to tell you he loves you and wants to reassure you that he’d always be there for you, but instead he pats you on the back. “It’s okay! I was just joking,” he awkwardly laughs. “Of course we are friends, and I hope we can be even closer too.”

He glances to your side. “What’s in the bag?” he inquires. “Oh!” you exclaim, seemingly as if you forgot about it. You rush to give him the bag and shove it into his arms. “It’s just some stuff I got you for your birthday.”

He rummages through it, going through the endless amount of tissue paper on the top. He pulls out a light blue sweater first.

“It’s almost winter, so I figured I’d give you something warm. I think this color…” you pause and hesitantly reach up to adjust his beautiful blond bangs, “... would look good on you.”

You both make eye contact for a second and quickly look away from each other. “Haha, it’s beautiful, y/n. Thank you!” You are just about to say ‘no problem’ before he is quickly taking off his green sweatshirt and replacing it with the light blue one, his very toned abs peeking through the plain white t-shirt he had on underneath the sweatshirt. You feel your cheeks grow warm and instantly look away. Armin notices and chuckles to himself. He would honestly never mind if you wanted to look at them or even touch them.

“Now, onto the second one,” you say, trying to change the subject. Armin pulls out two matching, homemade bracelets that feature a seashell on both of them. He looks at them silently and intently.

“I made matching bracelets!” you say proudly. “They’re like friendship bracelets, so we both have to wear them all the time! You aren’t allowed to take it off!” you joke.

“They’re so pretty, y/n,” he whispers as he stares at the shells, a sparkle in his eyes. He immediately puts it on and gently takes your wrist to put yours on.

“There,” he says contently, carefully placing your wrist in your lap.

You two sit silently next to each other, shoulders brushing against one another and watching the waves as the sun casts a dull orange and purple glow across the sky. The sounds of waves crashing against the shore and the squawking birds in the sky cancel out the noises of Armin softly crying.

Once you notice, you quickly snap your head around. “Armin, are you okay?” you ask, extremely worried.

“Thank you for the presents, y/n,” he sniffles. “You have always done stuff like this for me,” Armin continues as he gets flashbacks of you two running across the beach and gawking at beautiful seashells, telling jokes to each other in grade school when it was supposed to be reading time, and making funny drawings of each other. “I’ve never told you thank you - for being there for me and comforting me all those times, and just letting me be myself. It’s been such a long time since we’ve done anything together. I miss making you laugh, and I miss going to the library with you and asking you about your day.”

At this point, you feel like crying too because you feel the exact same. You spent so much of your life wanting to fit in, and you finally became popular but at what cost? You nearly forgot about the most important person to you, the one person that actually cares about you.

“I love you,” Armin suddenly blurts out, a tear running down his face. “I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine,” he says so quietly that it’s borderline pathetic. You swear your heart stopped when he said that. You feel a burning sensation all along your body as you forget about the cold air hitting your face, and you feel your breathing stop. The uncertainty you felt that kept you awake every night about whether Armin thought of you the same, all the self-doubt, all the guilt about leaving your friend behind, had been erased in an instant.

The silence between you two is unbearably awkward, and with confidence you seemingly pull out of nowhere, you throw yourself onto Armin’s lips, your arms enclosing his broad shoulders, and both of you falling sideways into the wet sand. Armin, at first shocked, passionately kisses back and links onto your soft lips. The tips of your noses are cold, but you both eventually succumb to each other's warmth. You both pull away to catch some breath. Armin gently wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him as you bury your head in the crook of his neck. Even after all this time, he still smells the same - vanilla and cedarwood. “I love you too,” you softly say. Noticing that you both are practically wallowing in the sand by now, you apologize. “Also, sorry I ruined your new sweatshirt. There’s sand all over it,” you laugh.

“Oh, it’s okay,” he reassures, shyly placing a kiss on your forehead. “Want to watch the sunset with me?” You nod your head enthusiastically, a smile you couldn’t help leave your lips.

“Oh, fuck,” you quitely exclaim.

“What’s wrong?” Armin asks in a concerned tone.

“I forgot I have an essay due at 11:59 tonight.”

Armin busts out laughing - a sound you wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of your life even though he’s laughing at your poor planning.

“When the sun finally sets, we can go back to my dorm, and I can help you with it if that’s alright with you,” he politely offers.

“Sure!” you happily reply.

You both sit up and face the horizon. The sun was almost gone, and the sky was a heavenly pink color while the sea began to look indigo. Your hands were linked with Armin’s, and for the first time in a long time, you felt warm despite the air getting cooler.

Getting ready to go to Armin’s dorm, he grabs his backpack and his dark green sweatshirt. You get up and check your phone, not at all caring that you have nearly fifty missed text messages and missed calls asking why you didn’t come to the weekly campus party.

You finally have all that you need.

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

I really hoped you liked it! Requests are open ~ I have another request that will be posted soon.

#armin arlert #armin x reader #aot x reader

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heart-of-gold-outlaw · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome Home | Chapter Ten: Still Breathing

Finally—finally—, the day comes to rescue Sean. You honestly don’t know what to expect. Most of the others in camp aren’t much help, referring to Sean with a roll of their eyes and something along the lines of: “half a mind to let the bounty hunters keep him.”

They should be saying that about Micah, you think to yourself as you watch Charles and Arthur saddle their horses. Maybe then Dutch’ll kick him out.

Still, Sean is a bit of a wildcard to you. You won’t figure out what he’s really like until you meet him, and until then, you decide to keep an open mind. Worst case scenario? He’s Micah’s long-lost brother. Best case scenario? He’s… well. Maybe it’s best not to think about all the things he could be. Keep yourself on your toes.

You sit on a tree stump while the boys get ready. Taima is an absolute beauty of a horse, and you can tell by the way Charles dotes on her that she’s got a good life. Briefly, thoughts of having a horse of your own cross your mind. That appaloosa gelding is probably still for sale in Valentine. Maybe if you can get enough money, you can buy him.

Arthur and Charles take their sweet time packing more than enough ammo, which means you quickly get bored. Every scratchy detail on the tree stump bothers you, too. Hopping to your feet, you decide to get some chores done. Everyone’s been so preoccupied with the big upcoming rescue, they’ve neglected some of the finer details in camp.

The ax is in its usual spot, surrounded by whole logs that need to be chopped. You grab ahold of the handle. It feels lighter than it used to, and you realize you’re getting stronger.

Goodbye noodle arms, you think as you bring the ax down on to the first log. You don’t quite split it, but it’s getting closer than ever. And hello Jack Lumber.

A few chops in, you feel the muscles in the back of your neck tense. Someone’s behind you, and you’re not quite sure who. But soon enough, a low, sinister chuckle reaches your ears. Micah.

“Well,” he says. “Looks like the camp nuisance is finally doing some work.”

You slowly count to three before turning around. Micah stands by you, a little too close for your liking, and he’s got a smirk on his face that twists your gut something awful. You’ve started wearing a gun belt, and the hand that isn’t holding the ax inadvertently twitches toward your revolver.

“You know something, Y/N?” He takes a step toward you. “I think you’re starting to wear out your welcome.”

Fire ignites in your chest. No. No. Micah doesn’t get to do this, try and make you second-guess yourself and your place in the gang—especially not after you’ve just started feeling comfortable.

“Back off, you useless mineral,” you hiss.

Micah’s lips curl into a snarl as he takes another step toward you. This one feels infinitely more threatening, and you barely keep yourself from taking a step back. You’ll be damned if Micah wins this fight.

“Take another step,” you warn, “and I’ll jump rope with your intestines.”

Honestly, you don’t really expect him to feel threatened, but the odd choice in words is enough to throw him off. You can see him trying to process everything you said, which gives you enough time to throw the ax down and skedaddle.

Your heart thuds frantically in your chest as you hurry to Arthur and Charles. Micah won’t try anything if you’re with them; that much, you know for sure.

“We ready to go?” You ask as nonchalantly as you can. “If I chop one more piece of wood, I’ll have to start wearing flannel.”

Charles looks confused at “flannel,” but Arthur frowns as he glances over at the chopping block. His expression hardens when he sees Micah storming away.

“Micah giving you trouble?” He asks, a hint of something dangerous in his voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” You go to lean against the hitching post, miss, and almost topple over. Face burning, you settle for folding your arms over your chest.

Arthur and Charles exchange looks.

“If he tries anything,” Charles tells you, calm and steady, “let us know. We’ll take care of it.”

We’ll take care of it. How a statement so simple and so general can sound that dangerous, you’ll never know. You wordlessly nod, not knowing how to respond.

Charles leaves, then, to go saddle Taima. You look to Arthur, ready to follow him to Florence, who’s already tacked up and ready. But he doesn’t move.

“Micah been buggin’ you a lot?”

You shake your head. “Not really. I mean, he gave me a hard time when I was cleaning up Pearson’s wagon a while ago, but Hosea scared him off.”

Arthur turns to look at you. “And today?”

“Oh.” You think back to the confrontation. “Well, he called me the ‘camp nuisance’ and said I was starting to wear out my welcome.”

A glint of fury flashes through Arthur’s eyes as he throws a glare in Micah’s general direction. You shiver involuntarily. Thank goodness you’re not on a certain cowboy’s bad side.

“I’ve been called worse, to be honest,” you say with a shrug, and smile slightly when Arthur looks at you again. “I’m kinda used to it.”

He gives you a troubled frown instead of sharing your nonchalance. Confused, you feel your smile waver a little.

“What?” You ask.

“You…” Arthur begins, trails off, then continues: “You know it ain’t true, right?”

“What isn’t?”

“The part about being a nuisance. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either.”

Something pulls at your heart, something strong, and you’re suddenly at a loss for words. You’ve had so many doors slammed in your face, so many people come and go, never staying, never even wanting to stay… And you couldn’t do anything but watch them leave.

“Oh,” is all you manage around a tight throat.

Arthur looks at you some more. His eyes are soft now, soft and full of what you think is understanding. He reaches out, maybe to put a hand on your shoulder, but apparently thinks better of it and instead motions for you to follow him. You trail a little behind as he walks toward Florence. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either. Did… did Arthur really mean that? Does that mean the rest of the gang, minus Micah, feels the same way? You can’t help but shake your head in wonder. You don’t think you’ll ever understand these people.

Once you catch up, Arthur easily swings himself on top of Florence, then hauls you into the saddle behind him. You’re starting to get used to horseback. Florence may be absolutely massive, but you don’t feel so unsteady anymore. In fact, you might actually like riding.

“We’re meeting up with Javier just outside of Blackwater,” Charles says as he brings Taima over. “Trelawney thinks the bounty hunters will bring Sean upriver.”

Arthur nods and sets a steady trot out of camp. “Good. We can probably cut ‘em off when they reach the border. I think there’s a canyon that’ll give us some decent cover.”

“Any luck, we’ll take them by surprise.” Charles urges Taima into a canter, which Florence matches. “How many do you think there’ll be?”

“For Sean?” Arthur laughs, and you try not to look too enamored. “Any pair of fools could handle him. But there’ll be a lot of ‘em, no doubt.”

Charles hums in thought, but doesn’t say anything else. Much of the ride passes in comfortable silence. Although you want to focus on admiring the scenery and marvel at the lack of, well, everything, you find yourself thinking about the upcoming fight. You may not know a lot about the past, but you’ve seen enough Westerns to know bounty hunters always put up a hell of a fight. That, and they always keep coming right when you think you’ve killed them all.

Your revolver suddenly feels heavy in its holster. You bite your lip, a little unsure. Yes, you’ve used it once at Six Point Cabin, and yes, you’ve managed to hit a few bottles, but those were honestly lucky shots. And neither of them were shooting back.

Bounty hunters, though? Different story. For as much bravado as you showed Dutch during his little tirade, you have to admit that you’re a little nervous. It’ll be your first real gunfight. You’ll have Arthur and Charles looking out for you, but you can’t help the anxiety knotting deep in your gut.

If I die, I die, you think. No going back now.

///

Conversation lags for the remainder of the ride. Eventually, after crossing a small river, you’re in what Arthur tells you is West Elizabeth. It looks… well, it looks like a perfect snapshot of a history textbook. Rolling hills and open land, bison… it’s absolutely stunning.

Off in the distance, you see two people looking over the edge of a cliff. You recognize Javier, but you don’t recognize the other man, with his mustache and mischievous eyes. He smiles when he sees Arthur and Charles, then peers at you curiously.

“And who might this be?” He asks as Arthur dismounts, leaving you alone atop Florence.

Your brain goes into a blue screen of death, and before you know what you’re doing, you say: “My name is an enigma and holds all the secrets of the universe.”

“That would be Y/N,” Arthur says, exasperated. He helps you down and grabs his rifle from the saddle. “Y/N, this is Josiah Trelawney.”

Trelawney bows with a flourish. “At your service, my dear.”

You instantly decide you like him. Waving hello to Javier, you approach the edge of the cliff, crouching low like everyone else.

“Sean?” Arthur asks as he looks down the scope of his rifle.

“I think he’s in that boat over there.” Javier gestures to a small vessel upriver. “Think they’re docking to take him further inland.”

Arthur turns the scope, then gives a hum of confirmation. “That’s him alright. Giving those bounty hunters hell.”

Trelawney nods and rises before mounting his horse. Setting a slow walk, he motions for everyone to follow him. Arthur helps you on to Florence, and then you’re off once more.

“If we do this right,” Trelawney says, “we can cut them off. Remember: we’re just innocent folk out for a ride on the trail. Let’s not draw their attention just yet.”

The five of you ride toward a canyon. Ahead, you can see the boat docked at the shore, along with several well-armed, intimidating bounty hunters standing guard. They don’t look like they’re in much of a mood to negotiate. In fact, they look ready to shoot on sight.

Everyone takes cover around the bend. Trelawney, odd man that he is, seems more preoccupied with his coat than the problem at hand.

“Now ain’t the time for a fashion statement,” Arthur drawls.

“Au contraire, my dear fellow,” Trelawney says with a smile. “Bounty hunters are even more gullible than hillbillies. I have to look the part if I’m going to make the proper distraction.”

Then, before any of you can say a word otherwise, Trelawney strides confidently toward the bounty hunters. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you just know he’s spinning a tale bigger than the Grizzlies. He waves his arms in a grandiose gesture. In another situation, you would have mistaken it for part of the act. But now, along with Arthur, Charles, and Javier, you recognize it for what it is: a signal.

Arthur fires a quick shot, striking one of the bounty hunters between the eyes. From there, it’s chaos. All you can hear is the sound of gunfire and shouting. You take cover behind a rock, firing your revolver without really trying to hit anything. You don’t know if any of your bullets find their marks. Honestly? Probably not.

“Let’s push up on ‘em,” Arthur commands.

You stick close by him as you make your way up the canyon. The bounty hunters have regrouped by now, which lets them put up more of a fight. A bullet whizzes by your ear—too close for you to ignore—and you yelp and duck further into cover.

Arthur quickly lays down some cover fire, then hauls you up and pulls you behind a larger rock. You don’t even have time to tell him thank you. The firefight picks up again, bullets flying, ricocheting, sometimes hitting their targets, sometimes hitting the canyon walls. It takes nearly all your self-control to keep a level head.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Javier reloading his guns, but also just barely peeking out of cover. You look up the canyon trail. There, off in the distance, half-hidden by gun smoke and dust, you can just barely make out the silhouette of a bounty hunter—and he’s aiming right at Javier.

You steel yourself. You’re not some useless coward who needs to be protected. You’re a member of the Van Der Linde Gang—an outlaw. And one of your own is in danger.

Your anxiety flees, replaced by determination. Edging ever-so-slightly out of cover, you fire off a shot toward the bounty hunter, then duck back behind the boulder. A pained yell tells you that you hit your mark, and it’s followed by silence.

Javier looks at the fallen bounty hunter, then at you. He nods his head in thanks. Smiling, you tip your fingers in a mock-salute, then follow Arthur as he pushes further up the canyon.

It doesn’t take long for your little group to reach a clearing. Right away, you see someone dangling upside down from a tree. He’s also surrounded by vicious-looking men who you would honestly rather avoid.

Well,you think to yourself. That must be Sean.

The bounty hunters have been expecting you, and they fire several warning shots into the tree line. You duck behind the trunk of a massive pine. To your right, you see Arthur considering the situation, trying to figure out the best approach. On your left, Javier and Charles wait on a signal. You don’t know what happened to Trelawney, but you think he’s alright.

“If we can get around them,” Arthur eventually says, “we can come at them from all sides.”

Javier grins. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Charles gives him a look. “Only the fish can shoot back.”

Arthur nods, then looks back toward the clearing. “Someone’s gotta get to Sean quick as they can. I got a feeling he’s gonna be bait.”

“I’ll do it,” you tell him. “There’s enough cover behind that tree he’s tied up in. I’ll be fine.”

For a long, long moment, Arthur looks uncertain. But when you give him a pleading look, silently begging him to let you prove yourself, he sighs and folds the cards.

“Alright,” he agrees. “Wait until you got a clear opening, then go for it.”

Everyone heads off in opposite directions, leaving you to prepare yourself for the sprint of the century. One by one, the boys shoot the bounty hunters, hitting each with impeccable aim. Then, almost before you’re ready, you spy the perfect opportunity.

Making a beeline for Sean, you dive behind the tree just as the bullets start flying again. You sit there for a few seconds, catching your breath. You can’t believe you’re still alive. All that time in open space, and not a single scratch on you.

“It’s over!” You hear one of the bounty hunters shout.

He sounds dangerously close to you. Peeking around the tree, you see him standing not a foot away, pointing his rifle at Sean.

Shit.

You duck back into hiding before you’re spotted. This is exactly what you didn’twant to happen, and it happened anyway. Wracking your brain for ideas, you look around for anything that could be of use.

Think think think think think think—

There’s a corpse not too far from you, and you spy a knife on its belt. Moving purely on instinct and adrenaline, you snatch it from its sheath, turn back to the bounty hunter, and shove it through his throat right in the middle of his next sentence. He stays on his feet for maybe a second longer, then collapses.

You slowly back away from him. Dimly, you realize that the fire fight is over, that everyone else is okay, but you can’t bring yourself to focus on that. All you can do is stare at the body on the ground… the man you just killed.

“You alright there, friend?” Sean asks, still upside down.

“Uh,” your voice sounds far away to your own ears, “yeah. I’m fine.”

After that, you have maybe five seconds before your stomach lurches. Doubling over, you heave violently for a while before coughing, spitting out the taste in your mouth, and wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

“Hiya Sean. I’m Y/N.”

Accompanying Music: Still Breathing | Green Day

Ko-Fi

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fic #welcome home

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antiherocorner · 4 years ago

Text

Niki Lauda - The White Wolf

A Werewolf! Niki Lauda x Reader fic (18+)

Headcanons:

So... This is my first AU ever... And also this is my first smut... Kind of... Thing... Ever... Sex scene, let's go with that... I was debating to post it in smaller parts, or a bigger one. I decided the second one might be better.

This is a mess, and a random idea... This could be a psychedelic trip, while you're watching fucking Twilight... Yes, I am familiar with the Twilight Saga... No, I wasn't Team Jacob... No, I didn't intend to base this on that... But it might has some similar stuff (no vampires)... Small stuff... All of them were unintentional, really.... Well... 1 or 2 things weren't, but most of them.

English is still not my native language, apologies for the grammatical mistakes, I tried.

Taglist: @rumblelibrary (you are my first tag in a fic written by me aaaaaaa🥺❤️🔥)

Summary: Your car broke down while you're on a road trip, on your own. You need someone to fix it. There's a small town. What could possibly happen?...

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don't do it kids), swearing, possibly smoking, drinking, mention of scar (nothing big or serious), google translated German, bad dog jokes, puns, and no, i didn't make a "real" wolf fuck the Reader, i'm not that kinky, i imagined the Reader to be female, but can be gender neutral, no name, or age mentioned, no use of y/n either... That's it?... Idunno, still new to this

(collage made by me, i don't own the pictures, i just used them, it's also very amateur, I haven't done a collage in ages)

🐺🤍❤️

You were in your car ‘till your waist. The damn thing broke down half way into your road trip. You have had enough of your monotonous everyday life, so you decided to pack up the essential stuff of yours, get your car together, and head out into the unknown. You have already seen beautiful mountains from a distance, gone through deep, mysterious forests, taken many pictures. You have tried to live in your car, but occasionally you have stayed in some cheap, low budget motels for 1 or 2 nights. You always had trust in your car, yet there you were. It didn’t run out of gas, it just suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, just outside of a small town. It looked rather friendly, and not busy at all. There wasn’t any other car passing by, so you did what you thought was the best decision: packed your bag, locked the car, and started walking into the town, praying to find someone, anyone really, who can maybe lend a helping hand.

The people you saw were really kind, it seemed they didn’t really get too many outsiders in their small town, and they seemed happy for you. They told you that there was one car mechanic in the town, a little group of guys. They also told you about a motel, which was always open for travellers, and due to the lack of them, it was basically empty. You decided to go to the motel first. The receptionist was a friendly old lady, who, again, got very excited to finally have someone at her place. You got your room, for a very small price, went in and unpacked some of your stuff. You really wanted to know what was up with your car, or if it could be fixed at all, so you didn’t waste much time in your new temporary place. After a few minutes you headed out to the streets, to the direction where you were told before to find the mechanics.

It was one of those warm days, so you were glad you found what you were looking for. You heard music coming out of an open garage. Above the doors you read “The Rat's Den”.

- Hello?... - you popped your head in the garage.

- Can I help you with something? - a tall, blonde haired man, with broad shoulders approached you. He had a cheeky smile on his face, sweat under his long locks. Oh, and shirtless.

- I uhm.. My car broke down just down the main road - you gestured with your hand where your car was - And I was just wondering if you could help me with it… I don’t know what could be the problem, I have been traveling with it for the past few days, weeks, everything was fine up until now. I just can’t get it to work.

- Sure, we can take a look at that thing - you turned your head to the direction from where another voice caught your attention. Another man just slipped out from under a car. He had curly hair, slimmer body than the blonde one, but still tall. You looked him in the eye as he came over. His eyes were like a river of caramel pudding, and they were glowing like a forest fire in the middle of the night. Your mouth watered.

- Thank.. You… - you said shyly. What’s happening? You normally aren't this shy… - When can you do that?

- Are you staying in that old motel? - asked the curly one.

- Yes.

- Alright. Is that good, if I go there around 7 am tomorrow, so I can take a look at it before I open the garage?

- Y-yeah… sure.

- It’s a date then. I’m Niki Lauda, by the way, that’s James Hunt. - he gestured towards the blonde one, James. You didn’t even notice him leaving you two. You told him your name.

- It was nice meeting you. I’ll be there at 7.

- Okay. See you then. And thank you.

- It’s no problem.

And with that you headed out of the garage. You turned back before you completely went outside. You saw a tattoo on James' right shoulder. You didn’t see every detail, but you felt a strange feeling. Unconsciously your eyes wandered to Niki. He was wearing a white shirt, but you could still see a glimpse of something similar, at least as you guessed, just under his neck. Strange.

You went back to the motel. You couldn’t go to sleep during the night so easily. You had a weird feeling about The Rat’s Den. Some kind of an aura was around it. It looked like any other garages where they repair cars and that’s it, but not there. There was something. You couldn’t really describe what you were feeling, or grasp what you should even be looking for. Something was up, you were sure about that.

🐺🤍❤️

After a few hours of sleep, you woke up. Niki could be here any minute now. You freshened up a little bit, you felt like shit due to the lack of sleep. Suddenly, you heard a loud car noise. You were the only one there at the motel, you guessed that was Niki. Honk. Yes, most definitely. You opened the door for an old, shiney Ferrari, with Niki sitting at the front.

- You’re coming or no, Schatzi?

You blushed by the petname, but quickly composed yourself, locked your room’s door, and jumped into the passenger seat. The man asked you about where you left your car. You answered and he drove to the correct directions. The short journey was mostly silent, with small talks. You stared out of the window, so you missed the spectating eyes of his.

- You’re good? You look exhausted…

- I’m okay, I just haven’t slept much. - you turned to him.

- Well, that makes the two of us.

You looked at him with curious eyes, but he remained silent, eyes focused on the road. You couldn’t read him, but tried to observe his features. He was pale, especially his knuckles as he was basically suffocating that poor wheel. He was taking deep and slow breaths. He looked like he was having a hard time in his own car.

- Is that your car? - Niki snapped you out of your thoughts.

- Yes, yes, that’s it.

Niki stopped his car in front of yours. You got out, and walked to it. He asked for your keys, so he could open the hood of the car. You took them out of your packet, then placed them in his open palm. Fingers briefly touched. He was warm. Surprisingly warm. For a moment you thought you heard him sharply inhale, but he quickly busied himself with your car. He has a nice butt. You immediately scolded yourself and turned your back to him, leaning on the side of the car, while he was working. After a few minutes, awkward silence, and some rattling, he straightened himself and turned to you.

- The engine gave up. Although it’s nothing serious or expensive, it will take some day to fix it properly, so it won’t die again. - so I stuck here yey - How long will you stay?

- As long as I don’t have a car I guess… - you massaged your nose, the lack of sleep started to catch up - I took it to a mechanic before I left… That’s just great…

- Well, that asshole did a shit job… It’s obvious what’s wrong, and it didn’t happen overnight. - he shrugged and closed the hood - I can’t take it back to the garage now, but during the afternoon I will come back for it with a more usable car.

- Sounds like a plan - you nodded and extended your arm to take your keys back.

Your fingers brushed against his, again, but this time the contact shot electricity up in your arm, which caused you to drop the keys. You instantly crouched after it, but what you grabbed weren’t your keys. It was a hand. Niki’s hand. How does he have these quick reflexes? You looked up, still holding his hand, and just realized that your faces were just a few centimeters away from each other. Both of you froze. Niki even seemed like he wasn’t breathing. His eyes were on yours, before he looked down to your lips. You licked them unconsciously. He purred. What?

- We should get back to the town.

He jumped up, leaving your keys on the ground. You tried to get yourself together, picked up your keys and sat back into his car. The way back to the garage was in complete silence. He didn’t purr, did he? He just breathed weirdly… I am imagining stuff… Right? You were confused.

🐺🤍❤️

Not much happened during the rest of the day. You tried to look around the little place, bought some food and just relaxed in your room. When the sun started to settle down you realized that you didn’t give your car keys back to Niki. You left each other in such a hurry, after he took you back to his garage, none of you had it in mind. You couldn’t call him, you didn’t have his number, and you didn’t really want to walk there. Throughout the whole day you had a strange feeling. Something was definitely up. You just felt it in your guts. Niki was like any other man and yet, he had an aura that just gave off some vibes which you just couldn’t grasp, no matter how hard you tried. You were pacing in your room when you looked out of your window. A red Ferrari just stopped in front of the motel. What, is he a mind reader too? You opened your door, spinning your keys in the air with your right hand.

- Catch! - you shouted, throwing them at his back, but before it could hit him, he turned around and caught them in his left hand with incredible accuracy.

You weren't expecting that. He didn’t say anything, just smirked and winked at you, as you locked eyes. You blushed deeply, and he disappeared just as quickly as he came by.

🐺🤍❤️

During the evening, you couldn’t rest. Again. This time you decided to go for a little walk. You weren’t really paying attention to where you were going. You just wandered around the quiet, calm town. It seemed like everyone was fast asleep. Not a single person, not a single soul was up. You arrived at a little dirt road which was leading you to a forest, next to your temporary home. You didn’t know why, you followed it. You got to a little field which was shielded with huge trees from the outside world. Some rays of sunshine were still peeking through the bushes, giving it an angelic look. Little red flowers covered your newly found small area. It felt like you were in a fairytale. But you weren’t. You heard a branch break behind you. You turned on your heels, just in time to see a huge, black wolf coming out from the bushes. It looked unusual, there was something in its face, in its eyes that was off. Human? It had a human kind of amused face expression. In the middle of your observation you just realized it was coming close. You panicked. Just when you thought it was going to rip you apart, another one jumped between the two of you, from behind you. This one was white, and slightly bigger. It growled at its own kind, like it was telling him to fuck off. The black wolf looked at you one last time and took off into the trees. The remaining animal calmed down, before it turned to you. It looked majestic. There was something royal in its posture. Around its neck and on his chest it had little patches of curly fur, like a mane. It had a cut on its lip, probably just had a fight, maybe with its prey. It looked deep into your eyes, like it was staring into your soul. There was something familiar in those eyes. The eyes were glowing, and like a river of caramel. Wait. You took a step forward and it instantly disappeared into the shadows. You really did needed to sleep.

🐺🤍❤️

You jolted up in your bed. You were covered in sweat, hair was messy. You massaged your face while you were trying to catch your breath, even your breathing. You looked at the clock. 1:30am. You managed to sleep for about an hour, before the nightmare woke you up. You saw the wolves again. They were circling you. The black one jumped forward and tackled you to the ground. Your sight got blurry, but you could still make out the silhouette of the white one. It changed into a man. It had curly hair. You felt like someone or something was watching you. You walked to the window, and pushed the curtain aside. You saw a wolf, watching you from the otherside of the road. A white wolf. That wolf. You immediately turned around, hands were burying in your hair. What the hell is going on? Am I going crazy? What is this place? A knock on the door caused you to jump. With shake legs and hands, you went to the door and opened it. Niki was leaning on the door jamb, with his left hand.

- What an earth are you… - you started with a confused look but it quickly changed into a shock, your eyes got wide when you looked at his lips. He had a fresh scar there. - There’s no way…

- I can’t do this anymore. You drive me crazy. - he looked at you with a beast-like expression on his face.

- What do y- - you couldn’t finish your question.

Niki technically broke into your room, then kicked the door closed. He didn’t mean to scare you, but he was on the edge of completely losing control over himself. He took a step towards you. You didn’t step back. You couldn’t. That animal look on him made your legs weak, your mouth dry. The lust in his eye made you want him. You licked your lips. That was the last straw for him. The next thing you knew you were thrown against the wall. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a hungry wolf. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he didn’t plan to go easy and kind on you either. He hooked his hands under your knees, picked you up and you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass and thighs.

- Your smell is intoxicating to me. I still don’t know how did I manage to not to rip your clothes off and fuck you on the hood of your car, when there were just the two of us, alone. - he confessed into your ear, and that made you feel all kinds of incoherent thoughts.

You wanted to answer, but when he sucked on your collarbone, the only thing that came out of your mouth was a moan, which could have been heard in Hell as well. He growled in response, grabbed your shirt on the back, and tore it in half with such ease, letting it fall to the carpet. He took you away from the wall, then placed your back on your bed. He sit up, just to took of his shirt. He placed himself between your legs, arms next to your head to keep himself from crushing you. He looked you deep in the eye. The warm that radiated from him was unbearable. It made your stomach turn in itself. He leaned in to capture your lips, but he stopped just millimeters away from you. There was a silent question in the air. He got his answer when you closed your eyes. When your lips met, you felt like you jumped to another dimension. He tasted like a mixture of cigarette and beer. Your hands found their ways into his curls. His breath stuttered for a second, before letting out a purring sound into your lips and mouth. He liked that. No. He loved that. His left hand wandered down between the two of you, to pull your pants down. You let him. Then it was your turn to free him from his pants. He let you. He was bigger than you would have imagined, and thick. And also hard like a rock. You gently grabbed him to pump him a little bit, but he didn’t let you have your fun for too long. He needed you badly. He wanted to bury himself in you. He pulled your hand away from him, and just as you were to pull your legs up for him to get a better angle, he tightened his grip on your arm a little bit, and turned you around like he just picked up a feather. You got confused for a second but when you felt him at your entrance you put the puzzle together. Oh. He is half wolf after all. And without a second word he trusted his hips toward and filled you up. You pressed your face into your blanket to suppress some of your cry.

- I’m sorry, but you really bring the animal out of me... Meine schöne Beute...- was all he whispered, but waited for a little bit for you, to get used to him, before he started moving.

From slow and sensual trusts, you quickly arrived to needy and shameless fucking. His occasional growles got mixed with your load moans. Niki kept biting your neck and shoulders, and you couldn’t do anything, rather just take it. Not that you had any coherent thoughts about doing anything in that position. As both of you were coming closer to reaching your desires, Niki’s hands found their ways to the back of your own ones, interlocked your fingers, and raised both his and your arms above your heads on the bed. You saw the finish line, but before you could register the checkered flag, your pleasure hit you like a racecar. The man behind you finished the race as a close second. He stayed inside you until he got soft, then collapsed on the bed beside you. After you stopped seeing stars, you looked at him. He was already looking at you with his big caramel eyes. You felt this urge to cuddle him, you were already missing his warmth, although he wasn’t that far from you. He looked like he sensed your thoughts, because he opened one of his arms, invitingly. You quickly snuggled to his side, head on his chest. He was drawing circles on your back with the hand that was behind you. You reached up to the back of his neck, and started to slowly massaging the hair on it. He instantly started purring.

- I love this sound… - you slightly chuckled.

- I can get used to this… - he smiled.

- So am I... - the broken car was long forgotten.

Both of you drifted off to sleep like this, in the arms of each other. The last thing you heard was Niki’s heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Honk.

You shot your eyes open. You were in your car. In a parking lot. You sit up, confused, trying to solve your thoughts. You were tired, so you stopped to sleep a little bit in your car, before you reached your next destination. Was this all a dream? You climbed over to the driver’s seat. Started the car. Looked in the mirror on your right, on your left, then on the middle one. You saw a little purple spot under your shirt, around your neck. You pulled the shirt aside. A hickey on your collarbone.

🐺🤍❤️

The End?...

#daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #niki lauda #niki lauda x reader #werewolf au #car mechanic au #werewolf!au

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babbushka · 4 years ago

Text

Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch.1)

– A Lawyer AU –

You and Kylo Ren have hated one another for as long as you can remember. He, a criminal prosecutor, and you, a defense attorney should be natural-born enemies, and you are. But when Kylo comes to you seeking representation after being charged for a murder he didn’t commit, you both learn a thing or two about life, the law, and love…

[5k, no warnings for this first chapter!]

Available on AO3

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

In a world of ever-changing circumstances, where people do things that cause ripples and shocks through the very fabric of society that shake them to their core, where the sun shines and rain falls and snow blows cold through the streets of Manhattan, where there is life and death and a mess of bullshit in between, there was but one thing that you could ever comfortably rely on in life.

Only one thing remained constant in the grand scheme of it all: your alarm.

With a grunt and sigh, your arm extends out from underneath the covers to smack at the loud blaring jingle that sounds from your phone, hand desperately trying to hit the dismiss button without looking so that you don’t have to face the day just yet. It’s too early, you reason, to pull your whole self out from under the covers.

Eventually you give that thought up though, because dammit now you’re awake and it’s Monday morning and you have an office that’s waiting for you uptown. So, ever grudgingly, you throw the plush comforter off of your body and stretch to greet the day, saying good morning to the city that never sleeps.

You don’t usually dread waking up, but well, the last time you’d been in the office was Friday afternoon, after you lost your case.

After you lost your case, to him.

Glancing at the clock on your phone, you chew your lip for a moment or two, before finally turning off the do not disturb function, immediately going into the bathroom to shower and ready yourself for the day while damn near a hundred backlogged notifications make your phone buzz nearly onto the floor.

There’s a small mirror in the shower, a little compact to make sure there’s nothing left on your face after you scrub your skin clean, and you catch your own reflection in it. You’ve looked better, that was for damn sure – but by that same token, you’ve also looked worse. Mondays were shit, but today was gearing up to be an even worse one than normal.

No, you think as you shake your head adamantly, you have no desire to let him soak up any more of your good mood than he had already. So what if you had forgone your entire weekend, canceling plans and ignoring friends to nurse the sting to your pride that was losing? So what if instead of checking your email or your phone, you sat yourself on the couch and wasted two entire days doing nothing but watching shitty shows on Netflix?

What you did on your downtime was nobodies’ business, and since you live alone in your beautiful one-bedroom in SoHo, no one was there to spill your secrets. If anyone asked – not that anyone would, if they knew what was good for them – you would tell them that you absolutely did not spend the weekend wanting to throw darts onto a photo of his face. That wouldn’t be very professional, now would it?

Shutting off the water, you wrap yourself up in a big plush towel, and pad across the floor to your closet. Briefly, ever so briefly, you glance at your phone on your way, holding your breath, wondering, hoping that there might be something from him.

If there is, it’s buried under a pile of emails and text-threads from your firm, so he’ll have to wait.

Manhattan in January was chilly, so you bundle yourself up in your chicest coat overtop your most well-fitting skirt suit and a pair of heeled boots. Even if you felt like shit, you could look like million fuckin’ bucks, and no one would be the wiser.

And what a wonder the power of confidence was! Through the streets and down to the subway, you smiled at everyone, and they all smiled back. You offered your seat on the train to an elderly man who clearly needed it more than you, and he complimented your gloves. Everyone from the NYPD officer drinking his coffee to the mom scolding her three children brightened as you wished them a good morning, and somehow, along the way to work, your Monday blues disappears into something a little brighter.

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

Your good mood only continues to grow as you exit the elevator of the huge high-rise that you call your home away from home, your office on the twenty-third floor right in the heart of the Upper West Side. Sandwiched between the Hudson and Central Park, you have to admit that getting your ass out of bed was worth it, even if just for this view.

“Morning (Y/N).” The front desk security guard greets you, and you say hello back to him with a performative show of your badge.

HKS Law, so named after the founders and current partners Amilyn Holdo, Ben Kenobi, and Luke Skywalker, is a shining pinnacle of what defense attorneys and opposing counsel at trials should be. Not only had the firm made history time and time again with incredible wins and even more incredible ultimate losses, but it prided itself on being representation for the people no one else could represent.

Most of all, it had you.

If your alarm was a constant, than this was a universal truth: you are a damn good defense attorney. As you walk through the crisp and clean polished floors, you hold your head high, knowing that this loss against him still put you at the lowest loss rate of anyone in the history of HKS, lower than even the founders themselves.

That little reminder has you grinning to yourself. You’d been working with HKS for nearly six years now, and very quickly you saw your office climbing higher and higher up the skyscraper, saw it getting bigger and bigger. And now, you were nearly positive, that your meeting at eleven o’clock would be to discuss partnership with the firm as a reward for your continued hard work.

“Hey (Y/N)!” One of the associates, Rose Tico smiles at you from where she’s chatting with her sister Paige by their desks.

“Someone looks like they had a nice weekend.” Paige remarks, and you only wink at them, playing the game.

A game, which becomes instantly easier as your assistant, a bright-eyed intern fresh out of law school appears seemingly out of nowhere.

“(Y/N), good morning!” She is already offering you a cup of something nice and hot, her arm cradling a stack of manilla folders that have all sorts of sticky-note flags on them, that she shifts onto her hip ever so slightly to brush a few loose braids out of her face, speaking at what feels like a million miles a second, “I have your coffee ready and there’s a fresh breakfast buffet in the break room if you’d like, I can get you something – ”

“Good morning Neisha.” You accept the coffee gratefully, but interrupting her only to give her a chance to catch her breath. You check your watch, it’s only half-past seven, she’ll wear herself out if she exerts that much energy first thing. “A bagel with the usual would be perfect, thank you.”

“No problem – oh, Rick wanted you to look over those case files before your eleven-o’clock.” She breathes a sigh of relief, and gives you a smile.

Groaning, you accept the manilla folders too, balancing the coffee cup on top of them as Iman follows you into your own private office. Your assistant stands in front of your desk at the ready, looking sharp and put together, as ever.

One thing that you loved about Neisha – aside from the dozens of things that you admired and appreciated about her – was that you have never ever seen her in something other than a pantsuit. She did not wear dresses or skirts, she was almost never in heels, and she did not carry a purse. Instead, Neisha could almost always be found in a very smart trouser and blazer set, often complete with vests, and fun-colored socks in her loafers to coordinate with her ever-expanding collection of ties.

“Rick can go fuck himself.” You mutter under your breath, and she laughs.

“Should I tell him you said that?” With a playful glimmer in her eye, she crosses her arms over her broad chest.

“Yes.” You wink, before checking your watch once again and reminding her about that, “Bagel?”

“Bagel – right, on it.” Neisha snaps her fingers and leaves, closing the office door behind her.

You like your office, even if you’ve outgrown it. Much like the rest of the firm, it has stayed up to date with the contemporary interior design of the day. However where the open floor of the firm is mostly whites and silvers and glass, your office feels warmer with shades of coffee browns and creamy neutrals.

Remembering how you had been so excited for the promotion to your own office, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself now – it really was a small office. It consisted of a long dark brown desk situated in front of a wall-unit bookshelf/display area, and a seating arrangement of matching brown chairs situated around a free-edge wooden coffee-table. A soft rug covers the marble flooring, and cream gauzy curtains cover the windows, but that was about it.

You had been to the offices of the higher ups, you knew just what you could achieve if you made partner – even if you made junior partner.

And if all went well during this meeting at eleven, you knew you’d be moving into one of those offices soon.

For the first time all weekend, you sit down in the big leather chair behind your desk and finally check your phone. The case files remain on your desk, and you know you’ll get to them eventually, but until you’ve had some breakfast and that coffee can work its magic, no one could blame you for scrolling through the shit that you had put off since Friday.

It’s mostly work friends taking your side, which you appreciate. They knew losing a case was hard for you – you didn’t do it very often. And even though you never lost to anyone besides him, it still never got easier.

The case had been a simple one, or at least, you had thought so. Murders are so often simple, either the person did it, or they didn’t. If they did, there’s evidence, and if they didn’t, well, there’s evidence too. And when two parties come forward with their own evidence, compelling, strong fucking evidence – evidence of alibis and proof that your client couldn’t have been there, couldn’t have done it – it’s up to the jury to decide who to believe.

In this case, this jury decided to believe him, and there was nothing you could do about it. It was losses like this, losses like the knowledge than an innocent man was going to prison, that make you seriously question the legal system as a whole, frankly.

It’s then that you see it, and your hand freezes.

You have a missed message from him.

He’s saved in your contacts as the dick from VTH, and even though that could refer to any number of people, you know that it’s him. You have five missed messages from him, as a matter of fact, which sends both a rush of adrenaline through you, as well as a spike of anxiety.

The two of you…you’d never been friends, not really. In fact, the closest thing to a relationship that you might have is that of a rivalry, if not flat out enemies. You hated him, and he hated you, and he had hated you ever since the first day he set eyes on you, from the very first moment you walked into the courtroom as a last-minute addition to the defense counsel, and won the case in fifteen minutes.

Which was a shame, because you often find yourself thinking that if he weren’t such a…well, a dick, there could have been something there. Instead of a friendship, or even a civil acquaintanceship, you have over the years developed something of a hate-fucking-enemies-with-benefits arrangement. He was probably pissed that you ignored him all weekend, but that was okay – let him be pissed, you were pissed too.

You don’t open his messages, not yet. You’d need coffee in you and food in your stomach before you’re able to handle whatever mood he has to be in, now that you’ve got the energy to deal with him.

You’re so deep in thought that you nearly miss when Neisha returns with a plate for you, a big spread arranged on your desk for you to enjoy. You’re about to thank her and let her get on with whatever work she has to do, but she holds out a newsletter with a devious smile and curiosity gets the better of you.

“Have you seen?” She asks, and you raise a brow, a smile of your own creeping across your face.

The newsletter was something that circulated through the different firms in the area, keeping everyone up to date – or at least as up to date as legally possible – on the goings on in the sphere of influence that you all found yourselves in. Everything from congratulatory memos to case results, and even high profile celebrity gossip was fair game, but one of the more scandalous parts of the newsletter, was the publication of trouble that various lawyers found themselves in.

The Monday morning newsletter had quite a bit of this from over the weekend, and right there on page sixteen, is none other than his face looking as irritated as he possibly can, as he’s being given a hard time for a DUI on Friday night.

“Oh fuck.” Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to call him and yell at him for being a fucking idiot, “What the hell does he think he’s doing?”

“Whatever he wants, evidently.” Neisha shrugs, no doubt thinking the news would cheer you up in some sort of vengeful way that you appreciate. She reaches for a pumpernickel crisp from the spread on your desk and muses, “I bet the cops are thrilled, they hate that sonofabitch.”

“Yeah them and me both.” You mutter, already rubbing away a headache that’s starting to form across the expanse of your forehead. “He’s not going to be pleased about that photo, he looks rumpled.”

Sighing, you look down at the photo. He’s very clearly intoxicated, you’ve seen that look in his eyes more than once, the blurry out of focused glassy look that he gives you over smiles at dinner sometimes. You blink away the image of him in a nice suit on the other end of a table, reminding yourself that you’re angry with him.

“Doesn’t he have a driver? I wonder why he got behind the wheel himself.” Neisha continues, and bless her you think, for continually giving you a means to not be left alone with your thoughts.

“If there’s one thing I know about that man, it’s that when he sets him mind to something, no one is going to stop him from doing it.” You reply, not able to ignore a bit of gut-wrenching regret.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so mad at him, you could’ve gone with him to wherever he was coming back from, and maybe you could’ve --

“Should I have this framed?” Neisha asks, and you blink again.

You check your watch, it’s only a quarter ‘til eight. Have you really only been at work for fifteen minutes? That stack of folders sits on the edge of your desk, taunting you. You’re gearing up for an extra long day.

“No, that’s okay.” You shake your head, opening the bottom drawer of your desk and dropping the newsletter into it. “I will keep a hold onto it though. Just for fun.”

With a laugh, Neisha leaves and once again closes your office door.

“God dammit.” You grumble, pulling your phone out yet again.

The unread messages from him sit buried beneath thirty other messages that don’t warrant responses, and you hover your thumb over his name.

After all these years, something about getting a text from him made your heart jump. It felt stupid, you weren’t some teenager with a crush in high school, you were an adult, and this was just another adult, who you happened to have developed some sort of attachment to. Not a friendship, or a relationship even, but some kind of attachment.

Right now, you wanted to bitch at him for getting himself into trouble, for driving while he was so very clearly drunk, a whole argument prepared about how he could have seriously hurt or even killed someone, how even though he’s a rich asshole he can’t afford to be so reckless.

But first, in order to bitch at him, you have to read what he’s sent you over the weekend, and that’s where you keep tripping up. You don’t know why, but when you do finally open up his texts, you find that you’re holding your breath until you read them.

You try to ignore the way the thread starts out, try to ignore how if anyone were to squint, they might think something was going on between you two.

Incoming: [1/8 6:03am] just picking up croissants from that place u like. jam?

[1/8 6:10am] Yeah, raspberry if they have

Incoming: [1/8 6:11am] on it, go back 2 bed.

That had been just over a week ago, and you remember the day well, how you exchanged smiles over bites of fresh and flaky pastry, how you had dipped the croissants into hot chocolate in his bed, not giving a fuck about the crumbs that weren’t your problem because they weren’t your sheets.

How that was the last time you had seen him, before the conclusion of the case.

Now, now that you’d lost, the tone of the thread has very clearly shifted to something much colder. One thing you’re surprised to see though, is that they’re all from around Friday night, which was unusual.

Incoming: [1/15 7:43pm] going out 2 celebrate tonight, join me

Incoming: [1/15 8:57pm] u can’t ignore me forever u know

Incoming: [1/16 12:02am] i’m glad u didn’t come, ud fucking hate it here. theyre playing music 2 loud

Incoming: [1/16 12:15am] r u seriously still mad?

Incoming: [1/16 1:09am] Fuck you.

Rolling your eyes, you rub away more of that headache that starts to form. It was weird that he didn’t text you at all for the whole day of Saturday, or Sunday for that matter. If you didn’t spend the weekend together, he was very content to simply blow your phone up with links to random bullshit or long text conversations in broken grammar because his thumbs were too big for the buttons.

So for there to be radio silence after one o’clock in the morning was strange.

“For fucks sake.” You find yourself texting him back without even thinking about it, your fingers moving over the keyboard easily and quickly, sending off a slightly antagonizing reply after two days of nothing;

[1/18 7:55am] Looks like you had quite the night on Friday.

There, you think. That should get a response out of him. No doubt he would be quick to complain about how he had been pulled over and the whole nine yards. You wait for it to come through, the text. Or more accurately, the string of impassioned paragraphs that he tends to send you.

But a minute go by, and there’s nothing.

Five minutes, and nothing still.

You know you have to work, you have shit to do, you have that big meeting in a couple hours that you have to mentally prepare for, there’s no time to be worrying about him not texting you back. Still, you don’t like the silence. Sure that makes you a hypocrite, but he deserved your cold shoulder for beating you in court. At least, that’s how you justify it for yourself.

Getting up from your desk, you hover in the doorframe, where your assistant’s desk sits just outside to act as a buffer for anyone wanting to bother you.

“Hey Neisha?” You ask quietly, getting her attention, “I haven’t missed any calls, have I?”

A crease of confusion dips between her brows as she frowns, and immediately she checks the call logs on the conference phone that sits on her desk next to the big computer that takes up most of her space.

“No not that I can think of, are you expecting someone – ?”

Just as she’s asking, the phone rings. You lean over and see the number is one you don’t recognize, and you frown too.

“Better get that.” Neisha says awkwardly, so you just nod and retreat back into your own office from where you came.

It’s been seven minutes now, and there’s still nothing from him.

“Fine, fuck you too.” You mutter at the phone, locking it and putting it in the shallow drawer of your desk so you can focus on the folders in front of you finally.

The stack is pretty normal, all the weekend material finally coming in now that it’s the start of a new week. There’s new case files to look through to decide if you’re doing to accept the client, supplementary material from old case files that you’ve asked for to review, notes and evidence belonging to associates’ cases that you said you’d give your opinion on – all mixed into one big pile.

You liked it though, liked staying busy. It was a good distraction from a loss, the ability to win, the ability to prove to yourself and to the world that you’re good at what you do. There are all sorts of awards and pieces of paper displayed on the walls of your office that show that you’re good, but still, there’s nothing like a strong win after a frustrating loss.

But you’re not even halfway through reading the first folder, when Neisha knocks on your door and opens it slowly, a look of preemptive apology on her face.

“I’m afraid you’re going to need to cancel your eleven o’clock.” She says, and you can tell by the tone of her voice that there’s no use in trying to argue with her.

You let the folder fall down onto the desk, and brace yourself for whatever bombshell she’s about to drop on you, what could possibly be so important for you to have to reschedule one of the biggest meetings of your career. They would understand, you’re sure.

You hope, anyway.

“Who is it?” Your tone is already filled with dread, but a resigned kind of dread, knowing that whatever it must be, it has to be big, and you’re the only one in this entire fucking firm who can handle big things like this – it was the reason they wanted you for partner in the first place.

But Neisha hesitates with this response, scratches the back of her neck in a way that makes you instantly curious.

“I…I was instructed not to say, just that you’ve been requested to meet with them regarding representation.” She tells you, and now your headache pounds even harder.

Clients didn’t withhold their identity from you; some used an alias of course, but you can’t say that so far in your career you’ve had a completely anonymous client. Whoever this person was, had to either be royalty, or something very very close.

And though that meant there was going to be a nightmare of a trial – because these high profile people almost never got to simple settle, not when the prosecutor wants to make a show of prosecuting them – you can’t help but think that would be a pretty good notch in your beltloop, as it were.

“Alright, where are they?” You’re already up and away from your desk, shuffling the case files into a locked cabinet.

“Rikers.” She says straight away, and you let out a groan.

“Of course they are.”

You had almost hoped that whoever this mystery client was, they had posted bail and could meet at a nice neutral location. You didn’t have anything against Rikers personally, but rather the entire prison industrial complex as a whole, and as far as New York prisons went, there were few more infamous for being unnecessarily brutal than Rikers Island.

“I can call them back and tell them you’re busy…but they sounded adamant about wanting you in particular.” Neisha nudges gently, and really there’s no need to butter you up, you’ve already made up your mind.

“I’m guessing they didn’t tell you why?” You ask, even though you know the answer.

“Correct.” She replies with a sheepish shrug.

You look at her, at your watch, at your phone screen which shows no new notifications from the last time that you checked it, and you square your shoulders.

“Alright, reschedule the eleven o’clock, and let’s get out of here before Holdo freaks the fuck out on me for that.” You say, grabbing your coffee and a few more of the pastries to take in the car with you for the drive.

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

Most times, you have no problem taking the subway wherever you need to get, but visiting Rikers wasn’t as easy as hopping off the train and walking a couple blocks. For times like these, you and Neisha take one of the company cars, a sleek and shiny black thing with dark tinted windows. Cars really aren’t practical in the city, which is why you don’t have one of your own, but it was nice to be driven around from time to time in the peace and quiet of a car like this.

Normally, visitors are not allowed on Mondays or Tuesdays, but you’re not a normal person, and you’re not here for a normal visit, so once you pass through the security gate, the K-9 unit and the metal detector security tests with ease, you find it a pretty quiet lobby.

“Good afternoon Ms. (L/N), here on official duty?” One of the correctional officers that sits up by the front visitation desk beams at you.

“No, I just missed you Jake.” You reply, fishing out your identification for him even though he really doesn’t need it. Jake has worked there only a year or so, and every time you see him you can’t help but think he’s young, too young for this job, you think, too young to become desensitized to the humanity of incarcerated individuals. But that’s not a conversation that you’re here to have today, so instead you keep up the chitchat with, “How’s Lottie and the kids?”

“They’re good, who are you here for?” Jake asks as a matter of protocol, and you give Neisha a look, before looking back at him.

“That’s just the thing, I don’t know. I wasn’t informed for confidentiality reasons.” You try to explain, before leaning forward and mock-whispering to him, “Please tell me someone has me on the list and I didn’t drive all this way for nothing.”

Jake laughs, a sound that feels out of place in a place like this, and pulls something up on his computer. You can’t really see it, the list, and that’s okay. Whoever this mysterious person is, you’ll find out within just a few minutes.

“You know the drill, they’re waiting for you in the back.” Jake waves you off, and you’re glad to go.

“Wait out here.” You tell Neisha, who clearly looks uncomfortable even being in the lobby, and with good reason. She doesn’t argue you on that, instead takes a seat on a bench near Jake’s table, and the two of them get to chatting while your boots click on the floors as you walk away.

There’s a couple different visitation areas in the jail, and the deeper into the building you go, the more that you’re glad that visitation isn’t allowed on Mondays. You don’t want the chance of running into someone that you had failed. Granted there had only been a handful of those instances, but the thought of any one of them being here is not outside the realm of possibility.

Through the sea of empty tables and chairs that are reserved for long term inmates who happen to have visitation privileges for good behavior, you find yourself moving deeper and deeper, until you’re at the door of another room, a closed off one more typical to that seen in movies and television shows.

Opening the door, you hang in the hallway to confirm that there’s no one else there, as there shouldn’t be. There’s eight stations, four on each side of the small room, with a phone and a pane of bulletproof glass. Right away, you have a feeling this is going to be a murder trial, if they’re not even letting you meet with the client out in the open, if they’re monitoring the phone conversation that you’re about to have.

You see a shuffle of movement out of the corner of your eye, and assume that that’s who you’re here to meet, so with your chin held high, you step into the room, and make your way to the visitation booth where a man in a bright orange jumpsuit is waiting on the other side of the glass.

Stopping as quickly as you’ve started, you stand frozen in the middle of the room, blinking away and desperately shoving aside a wave of feelings that have crashed over you at the familiar face behind the glass.

The dark hair, the deep eyes, that proud nose, those full lips, you take it all in with some strange sense of disbelief – surely this must be a dream? It has to be, even as you sit on the little stool and yank the phone off the wall, shoving it against your ear, not even knowing where to start as you try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man, this mystery client…

“Hey sweetheart.” He says, and you could smack him upside the head if only there weren’t this glass between you and Kylo Ren.

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

Tagging some pals, please let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off the taglist! @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @drake-bells-waxed-penis @littleevilme13 @rennaissance-mama @materialisthicc

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren imagine #reader insert #slowburn #modern au #lawyer au #my writing #beyond reasonable doubt #adam driver fanfiction #adcu

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softtamaki · 4 years ago

Text

it’s gonna be okay

summary: your best friend would always make you feel loved and comforted and tonight was nothing different.

pairing: izuku midoriya x reader

genre: angst / fluff

word count: 2k

warnings: mean mom ;; it’s not too specific about why

a/n: requested by @lavenderbutton05 and i hope you like it :)

so !!

currently there’s a lot of things that have been happening recently

some good :D

some bad >:(

but either way you’ve always had your best friend to cheer you up

that’s right izuku midoriya is your best friend!! but even that has a sour taste in your mouth since recently, you two have been very touchy

and technically katsuki bakugou is also your bff but like don’t tell anyone that because he gets REALLY angry

for legit no reason too

it’s not like you have friday 4pm solely dedicated towards going to your favorite shop and eating food

(you totally do but if ANYONE — even izuku — knew, goodbye free sweets hello angry bakugou)

back to the point

midoriya confessed to you a week ago but ran off before you could say it back, eventually you did tell him

the two of you are taking it really slowly and don’t have any labels (yet)

but midoriya has always managed to keep you on your toes

no like ,, literally

“come on, y/n. you got this!”

“izuku i swear to all might, are you trying to kill me?”

midoriya sighed and his hands went back to the side of his body

he was trying to get you outside

while trying not to get super flustered at using his first name (even though you’ve used it a million times)

he wants to know what’s bothering of late, you’re being secretive and generally dismissive and it’s making him worried

“just, trust me? i’ll catch you!”

currently, you were on the railing of the girls UA dorm building and midoriya was on the floor underneath

your regeneration quirk wouldn’t be that useful in this situation so you’re grateful that you’ve been training in different martial arts

aikido would be very helpful in this situation since it would be best at helping you get down gracefully

you jump down the railing and land on the flat ground with a loud slap due to the sandals you had on

it was too hot for shoes! slippers are much better for the fast approaching summer time

“so.. where are we going?”

“somewhere nice, a breath of fresh air. i-is that okay?”

you smiled and nodded your head, gesturing midoriya to continue forward

he led you for a few minutes in silence, it was a comfortable silence

you weren’t going far, or you know aizawa would get mad, but far enough to get away from the dorms and breathe

you talked about your internships and the way the league of villains had been acting up recently

the topic eventually led to your friends and when you were ranting about denki not paying attention during class, midoriya suddenly stopped

“yeah and he always asks me later about what we learned despite being there! it’s like he forgets everything.. oh are we here?”

“yeah, just a little over to the side. don’t get to annoyed at him though, i’m sure he means the best”

“yeah, yeah, i know”

you two stop at a bench and sit down

looking up you see the blurry sky, hazy from the light pollution of the city lights you see down below

it was pretty and it made you think about how small you really are

midoriya was a little upset that it wasn’t as starry of a night as he had predicted but that would be a later concern, right now you were the priority (you always were to him)

“y/n, is..is something wrong?”

“hm? what do you mean?”

“you’ve been awfully quiet during class. plus, at lunch when kacchan told denki to shut up, you didn’t even say anything..”

“should..i have said something?”

“i m-mean kacchan never means what he says but you usually do. plus you’re usually more up for this sort of thing and yet you were so hesitant..”

“can you blame me? did you hear about how many villains are—”

“okay! i get it.”

midoriya abruptly starts, upset that you’re still denying the fact that something is wrong

you had every right to not tell him but he feels this might be a ‘i-don’t-want-to-burden-others’ type of thing more than ‘it’s-none-of-your-business’ thing

but you’re not responding so maybe he was wrong? he looks up to your face and his heart cracks

you’re frowning and eyes are watering, like you just got bullied

“oh shoot, i didn’t mean-“

“i’ve just been so.. lost lately”

midoriya stops and looks softly at you

your hands are quivering at this point and so midoriya brushes his fingers against them

you can feel the gentleness of his touch and don’t retract your hand

instead, you crave it and slowly make a move to grab his fingers

he blushes and looks away, trying not to tear up at the sweet gesture

“other than villains and the internship, school has been hectic. i can’t seem to catch a break!”

“mhm, i feel you. it’s like everyone’s trying to make it our last year here.”

you laugh and nod

“plus! aizawa is letting us go on our first missions next month, like i know it’s just a practice mission but wow time has flown so fast..”

your smile slowly fades and you steel your jaw to not let your facade fall

“..and things at home aren’t that great either”

there it is

midoriya stops looking at the city lights and sees you rubbing your arm in hesitation

“take your time, don’t worry it’s okay.”

“my mom’s been really rude lately”

“you don’t have to say anything y/n”

“oh i know it’s just, i want to? if that’s okay.”

“of course, continue. i’m here for you”

“well you know me and i recently told m-my mother who i was and she didn’t have a great reaction..”

“oh y/n, i’m- i’m so sorry.”

“it hurts you know? like my mom is supposed to be the one person who supports me no matter what but now.. now she’s being so mean and i don’t know what to think anymore..”

midoriya looks down at your hand that’s now tightly clasped around his, and instead of getting nervous, he holds yours back with the same strength

when he looks back up, you’re crying and his heart shatters completely

he doesn’t like seeing you sad and knowing that someone hurt you like this makes him so angry

taking a deep breath, midoriya brings his other hand to your waist and pushes you into his chest

after a small yelp, you’re now hugging and sitting in midoriya’s lap

his sweater is probably going to be damp with the tear stain but with his hands quietly patting and rubbing your back, you don’t seem to care

“she thinks she’s known me but she really doesn’t. she thinks i’m lying about it.”

“lying? you would never lie about something like this.”

“right? is like you’re the only over who actually pays attention to me.”

you remove yourself from the crook of his neck and look up to your best friend/more than a friend/boyfriend

the person that’s been there since day 1 and has always been supporting everything you are and do

you’ve never felt scared or lonely knowing that he’s right there next to you

midoriya looks at you like you’re the only person in the world

like the stars in the sky are in your eyes and can tell him how wonderfully excited you get when fighting or practicing

but now your soft cheeks are damp and he doesn’t want his favorite person in the world to be crying

he slowly brushes your tears away, fighting back his own tears by seeing you in pain

the two of you just sit and bask in each other’s presence

“you’re safe with me.”

you try to push down the words that are lumped in your throat from his comfort, but you can’t

“izuku, i love you.”

“i love you too, y/n. everything going to be alright.”

he smiles wide and you can’t stop the grin from rising to your lips

he takes your cheeks into his hands and slowly pecks your forehead

he’s also blushing like crazy and you can vaguely feel his body shaking

you grin, and with a leap of faith you kiss his cheek and he almost combusts

“y/n! i-i’m supposed to be making you happy- not the other way around.”

“you do make me happy! this makes me happy izuku!”

you’ve completely lost him

he’s half contemplating if he should bury his head into your shoulder but the short sleeved shirt you’re wearing makes him surprised

his mood instantly changes and he’s setting you down next to him on the bench before you can even register it

you’re pouting and he’s got half the heart to kiss you again but (your) health comes first

so he takes off his blue hoodie and gently says “up”

now you’re flustered because “oh-my-god-he’s-giving-me-his-hoodie”

he pushes it down on you and you’re already liking the super soft material

he’s looking at your smile and he can’t help but tear up a little and goes to hug you tightly

at this point you’re never going to get tired or used to midoriya having his strong arms around you, it’s heaven

but you can feel him shaking and you’re worried now

“izuku? is something wrong?”

“no! no, it’s fine i-it’s just..your mom sucks..and you don’t deserve this, you know? you deserve everything in the world and i wish i could give it to you and not let anyone make you cry.”

“oh..you think i deserve the world?”

“no,”

you’re confused and he takes his head of your shoulder and looks down at you

“you deserve more than the world. and you definitely deserve people who build you up and love you, not hurt you like this.”

midoriya wonders if your smile from his words is the brightest thing he’ll ever see, and even when the sun comes up and he’s still holding you and talking, he’s proven right

“you’re really cheesy..”

he smiles with his eyes closed and his freckles are shining in the moonlight

“you make me really cheesy y/n.”

the two of you hug for longer, in the cold night but the comfort radiating off of him makes you warm

he lifts his head up,

“um, can i kiss you?”

the look you give him makes his heart do somersaults and he’s trying not to die just looking at you

you nod your head and with a vocalized yes and he dips in to capture your lips

it distracts you from the lulling pain in your heart and you’re happy for it

as much as you think you can talk about what’s bothering you for longer, you really just needed something else

you two separate and you fall into his chest and when you snuggle up beside him, he’s about to fall apart

the rest of the night, midoriya talks about anything and everything, trying to distract you and tell you that he loves you and everything will be okay

he never makes it seem that he’s upset or minds doing this and always makes you feel loved and comfy

patting your head and rubbing your back, you slowly fall asleep to his loving words and he keeps on holding you until the sun rises

instead of waking you up, he decides to carry you (he doesn’t even need his quirk because to him, you’re soft and as light as a feather)

he doesn’t know how he didn’t get in trouble when he opened the door to your dorm and set you in your bed

or when he was tucking you in and kissing your forehead goodnight

or when he kept sitting next to you, thinking about how much he wanted to cuddle you and take all your fears away

he ultimately said “screw it” and decided cuddles were more important

any teasing from your friends and an annoyed kacchan saying “finally deku!” tomorrow would all worth it when you shifted in your sleep and cuddled into izuku’s chest

the i love you’s you exchanged made everything okay and you were so happy to know that your best friend would always be at your side

it’s gonna be okay

#izuku midoriya #deku #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya headcanons #midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #anime x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha headcanons #deku midoriya #midoriya x reader comfort headcanons #midoriya x reader comfort #my writing

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megsironthrone · 4 years ago

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Meg's Game of Tales: Tale 1

*familiar characters are, of course, not mine! And the original fairytale is the work of the Brothers Grimm!*

Warnings: Slightly dark, especially toward the end. Some steam?? Angst. Probably an overuse of variants of the word "wolf", and Oberyn is a warning all his own.

Pairings: Oberyn x fem!reader

As you walked through the village, you could almost drown in the fear and anxiousness. That meant only one thing. The wolf had come out again and the people were scared. But not you. You'd never been afraid of the wolf not even when you had grown up to the age of the girls that disappeared. The bodies of the wolf's victims were always found. Except for the young women, usually between 17 and 25. Their bodies were never found.

"Come along. We need to get to your grandmother's," your mother said, pulling your arm gently. You followed after her and used your free hand to wrap your red cloak tighter around you. Winter was coming as was evident by the light coating of snow on the ground and trees.

"Coming, Mother." Your mother smiled at you before you heard a call of her name. You realized that another villager needed your mother's help. You weren't surprised. She was a midwife. She was needed all the time. "Go on. I can get this basket to Grandmother's. I'm not a child any longer and I know the way." Your mother bit her lip, thinking if it was a good idea. When her name was called again, she sighed.

"Very well. Go as quickly as you can, stay on the path, and whatever you do, never-"

"Take off the hood," you finished at the same time. You heard the speech every single full moon. The cloak had been a hand-stitched gift from your grandmother. According to legend, wearing a red clock could keep the wolf at bay and you would be safe. You weren't sure you believed that, but you humored your grandmother by wearing it every time you went out and especially during the full moon.

Leaving your mother with a kiss, you headed out of the village and into the dank, dark woods. To many, the woods seemed haunted. A place no one should ever dare to enter. However, your grandmother lived just on the other side of the wood and you knew your path. You'd been walking it at least once a week for your entire life. The woods held no fear for you. At least, usually.

You took your first step into the trees just as the sun beginning to set. If you hurried, you could be at your grandmother's house just after dark. The basket you carried with your grandmother's food for the week was clutched firmly in your hand as you walked deeper into the woods. A little hum of a song escaped your throat while you walked. For some reason, you felt at home here and it made your steps lighter. You almost felt like skipping until you heard a noise, causing you to freeze on the spot.

"Hello?" you called but received no reply. After a moment of silence you shrugged your shoulders and kept walked. This time, however, you felt like you were being watched. If you hadn't known better, you'd swear you heard a growl. You were so focused on the strange sounds that you never heard him coming.

A scream tore from you when you felt two arms around your middle. You nearly began crying until you heard a familiar voice in your ear. "It is not safe for you to be outside, Flower." You relaxed instantly, spinning in the arms of your lover. "You scared me," you admitted. That earned a cheeky grin. "It's not funny, Oberyn!" He laughed out loud that time before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

"However shall I make it up to you, my flower?" You rolled your eyes and bit your lip. "Meet me tonight? You know I'll have to stay at Granny's tonight. I could use the company." Oberyn gave you that dazzling smile you loved. "Only if I can sneak in your window. The cold doesn't agree with me, as you know." You giggled. Of course you knew. If you were being honest, it was the cold of the last winter that ended up being the reason you found your way into Oberyn's bed.

"I have to go. I'll see you tonight?" He nodded and kissed you again before leaving you for the time being. With your rendezvous with Oberyn planned, you turned back toward your grandmother's house with newfound energy and determination.

Your grandmother greeted you with a hug and a smile before letting you in. You went to remove your cloak, but a sharp noise from her stopped you. "Y/N, we've told you never take off the hood. Not even inside. Not when the wolf is about." You bit back a sigh. You couldn't understand why she and your mother were like this. It was just a cloak. Surely they didn't really believe it had some kind of magical power attached to it to keep the wolf at bay. Nevertheless, you kept it on until you could retire to the room your grandmother kept for you.

After a sweet, "goodnight, Granny," you closed and bolted the door behind you. As soon as you were safely tucked away, you removed the heavy cloak. "Finally," you breathed out. You began bouncing in anticipation of Oberyn coming to see you. And it didn't take him long. "Little Red, let me in or I'll huff and puff and-" you threw open the window and shushed him. "Granny will hear you. Get in here."

Oberyn hopped in the window, gracefully landing on your bed. You let out a soft giggle. "You are ridiculous." He shrugged before pulling you down with him. He laced his fingers with yours and you hummed in content. You glanced at your joined hands. "You have such big hands." He chuckled while using his free hand to grip your waist. "All the better to hold you with." You rolled your eyes. "My what a wicked tongue you have." Oberyn shifted so your back was on the bed and he hovered over you. "All the better to taste you with," he whispered as his lips pressed against yours fervently.

*time skip*

You awoke the next morning to a pounding at your door. You bolted upright and glanced around in confusion. Oberyn was gone and you were alone once more. "Y/N! Open the door!" you heard your mother call out. You shot out of bed and unbolted the door. "Oh thank the g- Why didn't you answer? And where is your cloak?!" your mother cried, wrapping you in a hug.

"I was asleep, Mother. What is going on?" Your mother exchanged a glance with your grandmother. "The wolf was here. Took out a few of Granny's chickens and sheep. We found tracks outside your window. Both human and wolf." You instantly froze. Had the wolf gotten to Oberyn when he left you? You ran to the window and glanced down. Sure enough there were human and wolf tracks. You grabbed your cloak, pushed passed your family, and went outside to investigate.

Upon closer inspection, you realized that the footprints were both coming and going from your window. But worse than that, they seemed to disappear when the wolf tracks started. Your eyes widened. You'd read stories of wolves that could be human all the time except at the full moon. Then they turned into ruthless monsters. Wolves. Werewolves.

The next thought that came to you nearly had you sinking to your knees. The only person that had been near your window the night before was Oberyn. Was he the wolf? Could the man you loved be the wolf that terrorized the village? You didn't want to believe it. It was almost better to believe that the wolf had carted him off. But you knew that wasn't true when you saw his form rushing toward you.

"Are you alright?!" he demanded, "I heard the wolf had been here. Y/N? Flower, are you alright?" You nodded, not really seeing him but the monster you thought he might be. "I need to talk to you. Alone," you whispered, "Meet me in an hour at our spot." Oberyn's brow furrowed in confusion, but he agreed and left after pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You had to dodge a hundred questions about where you were going when you headed off to meet Oberyn a little while later. You didn't need your family worrying any more than they already were. So when their backs were turned, you snuck out. As you passed by your window, you did you best to ignore the footprints that were slowly being covered in new fallen snow. If you looked, you'd lose your courage.

Oberyn was already waiting for you when you arrived at your spot. He moved to hug you, but you stepped back. The look of hurt that crossed his face almost had you backing down. It was so out of place. "Flower?"

"Are you the wolf?!" you blurted out, unable to stop yourself. Your eyes met Oberyn's and he laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, Y/N." He grinned at you, but this time, there was something different there. Something sinister. He took a step toward you and you backed away. He put his hands on his hips, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath.

"You truly don't know, do you? Very well. I suppose there's no sense in lying to you anymore. But I am not the only one. There's more than one wolf. There always has been. The problem is, once these girls reached the age of 17 and their wolves started fighting to get out, they had no control. I had to do something. So they had to disappear. Believe me, it hurt me just as much. Losing potential pack members is never easy on me."

"You killed them. You really are the wolf. I was hoping…" you trailed off. Your head was spinning. You really had hoped you were wrong. But there was no denying it now; Oberyn was the wolf. Oberyn shrugged a bit. "I couldn’t have a pack of unruly wolves and I didn't have time to train them all to control it. So yes, I hunted them down and carted them off. I was protecting the villages, as I have always done."

"Protecting them?! You've slaughtered dozens of women!" Oberyn shook his head with a sigh. "Slaughtered is a rather harsh term, Flower. As I said, they would have harmed those that aren't wolves deep down. As the Alpha wolf, it my job to keep them in line." You licked your lips. "And what about me? Where do I fit in all of this? The cloak doesn't really protect me from wolves like you, does it?"

Oberyn blinked in surprise for a moment before throwing back his head in laughter. You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for his fit to be done. You didn't appreciate being laughed at at a time like this. "Oh my dear Flower. The cloak was never meant to protect you from me. Once you came of age, it was meant to protect everyone…from you." It was your turn to laugh.

"Right. So you're saying that I'm-" Oberyn's lips were still turned up in a sly grin as your brain struggled to make the connection. It wasn't possible. Absolutely impossible. Oberyn continued on, his fingers playing the edge of your cloak. "Your grandmother was smart, I'll give her that. But she read the wrong information. The red cloak doesn't protect against the wolf's attack. It prevents the wolf from changing at all. Except you, my naughty Little Red, never seem to remember your grandmother's most important rule. Never," he began, taking a step closer to you, "Take. Off. The. Hood."

Your back was pressed up against a tree now. Your heart raced a mile a minute as did your brain. One look in Oberyn's eyes told you that he was absolutely telling you the truth. You were a wolf too. And it made sense. The insistence of your grandmother to where the cloak. The fact that you weren't afraid of the wolf. The fact that your grandmother always lost a few sheep whenever you stayed overnight with her.

But that meant you were still in danger from him. For the first time, you were actually afraid of what would happen next. "W-What are you going to do?" you asked. Your voice was barely above a whisper. Oberyn chuckled darkly, his mouth hovering just by your ear as one hand supported him against the tree and the other moved your throat. "Oh, Flower, haven't you guessed? I'm going to make you mine. Forever."

The End??

(a/n: I hope you enjoyed our first tale! Come back next week for tale #2! Tag lists for Meg's Game of Tales are open and separate from my normal taglists!)

#meg's game of tales #game of thrones #fairytale au #little red riding hood au #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn x reader

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wonderrdies · 5 years ago

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if love be rough with you - part 2

In which you and Harry are professors at a prestigious Art and Language university and the animosity of part one is discussed. Also, you fuck.

disclaimer: just a huge thank you to everyone who said nice things about part one, especially @for-fucks-sake-h. I hope y’all enjoy this one!

warnings: it has sex, folks. I’m not that good at writing it, but it’s in there. also, use condoms; these intellectuals are very fictional and also horny dumbasses.

word-count: about 6,000 words

part 1

As the car rolled to a stop, lighting tore across the sky.

“Come upstairs,” you said. Obnoxiously loud thunder boomed, providing much needed context for your invitation. You didn’t like the idea of him in your space, your privacy and vulnerability out in the open where he could pick them apart. The alternative was worse, though. Finding him annoying wasn’t the same as wanting him dead in a ditch.

“No need,” Harry said calmly, the way he did everything else.

“Look, just come upstairs and leave once the rain stops. You owe me, remember?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting you to fight him on this. His coat was still draped over your shoulders and you had spent the last fifteen minutes in his comfortable leather seats, sipping on a water bottle he got you at a gas station. There was also a milk chocolate bar on your lap, the kind you used to eat during movie nights in university. You knew what he was thinking: if he had owed you, that didn’t look to be the case anymore. But half an hour of kindness didn’t erase the sound of his condescending darling making you feel small and embarrassed, especially when you were the one trying to help him.

“I’m not going to say please, Harry. Let’s go.”

So you walked out into the pouring rain, barely keeping from slipping and falling on your ass. His coat precariously covered your hair as you fumbled for your keys and finally got into the building.

Harry was right behind you, not saying a word as you climbed the stairs. The apartment looked so much smaller with him in it. You refused to feel embarrassed, but you could see him examining every corner from his spot next to the door as you dropped your purse and keys onto the counter that separated the kitchen and your bed.

"I—" you stopped yourself before telling him I know it's small. Having a home of your own, no matter how small, was not something you would apologize for. "Do you want something to drink or eat?"

You proceeded to take off your shoes, tie your hair back in a ponytail and brush your teeth, all while Harry stood, stiff, in the same spot without giving you an answer.

"Styles, what the hell?"

"Huh," was his brilliant response.

"Huh what?"

"You just look a little different, 's all."

"Must be the gin," you said. "Speaking of which, do you want water or wine?"

"Water's good," smiling to himself, he said: "Thank you."

"What's so amusing?"

His smile faded and you instantly regretted asking. While you poured his glass of water to the sound of heavy rain, Harry leaned on your door as if ready to run away at any second. It was a little hurtful, if you were being honest.

“You can have a seat, you know,” you handed him the glass, hoping to sound breezy and relaxed, or whatever. It didn’t come naturally. “The rain’s not going anywhere for awhile.”

Harry nodded and sitted on one of the two kitchen stools. The fact that he was so quiet almost made you miss his usual outspokenness.

As he drank his water, you sorted through the drawers of your dresser in the awkward silence, pushing aside turtlenecks and pencil skirts so you could get dry and actually comfortable clothes. Two t-shirts, two boxer shorts.

“I’ll change into something dry, you should probably do it too,” you pointed to the clothes you just dropped onto the bed, his eyes on you the whole time. “I figure these might fit you.” And before you could talk yourself out of it, you said: “You can also practice saying words while I’m in there.”

The bathroom door clicked as it closed between the two of you. Taking a deep breath, you undressed while listening for any sign that he had moved from the kitchen stool. A sign that he was mirroring your every move, peeling off wet clothing while trying to picture the other side of the door. It was foolish to project your filthy thoughts into Harry, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted so badly to believe that he was out there wanting you too, that he didn’t bring up that night so often just to humiliate you.

The soft cotton of the old university t-shirt you wore to bed looked like something out of a time machine under the bright bathroom lights with him standing outside. How many nights had you worn that same thing and smiled at him from across whatever room, beating yourself up for not being able to just say hello? Maybe more than hello.

All of it seemed to have happened many lives ago.

“Can I come out? Are you decent?” you asked, barely recognizing your own voice. It sounded too casual.

“Decent, me?” his answer came muffled. “Never, darling.”

You walked out, only to find yourself in a scene straight out of a porno. Harry was leaning on your kitchen counter, amusement in his eyes, dressed in your shakespeare is my boyfriend extra large t-shirt and way-too-tight boxers. His lilac pants and cream sweater laid in a pile on your bed looking like an afterthought and, even though he looked so different from his usual posh self, his pearl necklace was still decorating his absolutely maddening neck. He looked so much bigger. Maybe it was the way your clothes clung to his biceps and thighs, or the fact you hadn’t been this close to him without heels in years. Maybe your apartment was just too small.

“Am I wearing some other guy’s underwear?” Harry asked, suddenly serious.

“Huh?”

He looked down, pointing to his restricted and very prominent bulge, and your face was suddenly on fire. This certainly couldn’t be considered an appropriate move for a co-worker, right?

“It’s mine, Styles. I wear them to bed,” you cleared your throat, looking up again. Tugging at your own, admittedly much looser, shorts, you said: “See?”

“Yeah,” his voice was rough, barely more than a whisper. You could feel his eyes all over you, like they were fingertips threatening to touch you but never quite doing so. A shiver, like the one in the pub, ran through you, and you were suddenly aware that your nipples were very much visible and poking through thin cotton. “I see it.”

You stood still as he spoke again, trying to keep your eyes above his chin. But then again, those lips and eyes were not that much better than his cock straining against your clothes.

“Sorry about the weirdness earlier,” he continued. “I was just trying to get used to all this.”

“What’s all this?”

“You, so careless, in your natural habitat. It’s like the inside of this place is an alternate universe.”

An alternate universe, indeed. The hours of uninterrupted storming had eventually tired both of you out; you couldn’t let him stand in a corner or sit in a stiff stool all night. As it became clearer and clearer that he’d spend the night, you suggested watching a movie, even though it was obvious the two of you were exhausted. The whole thing was a poor attempt at avoiding the fact that there was no place for him to sleep but your bed. You certainly could handle smirks, teasing looks, sexually charged remarks, even handle his thighs and the outline of his cock in your clothes, or the vanilla smell he would definitely leave on your nerdy t-shirt. Would sitting in bed together and watching a movie be hard? Absolutely. But falling asleep next to him crossed some terrifying line; it had happened before, and the slightest possibility of having it happen again only so he’d use it against you later was just too much.

So now you were on your bed, backs resting against the headboard as you watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. While his legs stretched out beneath the shared gray comforter, yours were against your chest; if you curled up a little more, you’d probably disappear into thin air. His slightest move could be felt by you just by the shifting of the mattress, and the movie was next to inaudible for the sole reason that you couldn’t help but focus on the sound of him breathing right next to you. On your bed. Every few minutes you’d feel him staring at the side of your face, but your gaze remained stoically on the TV screen until he called your name in a whisper.

“Yeah?” you answered, glassed over eyes still on the movie. The second task of the Triwizard Tournament had just begun.

“I’m sorry.”

That got your attention. “What do you mean?”

“I just—” Now Harry was the one looking away from you. As if talking to the movie, he said: “I know the whole darling shit I say gets to you. And I know it’s gross to keep bringing up that night.”

Your breath got stuck in your throat. The whole thing was just too much; how dare he apologize and catch you off guard like that? Out of everything in this world he could say, that was what you least expected. It was not that you found him to be disgusting and immoral, or that you believed he acted mean because he was a genuinely bad person. You wouldn’t have put up with all the teasing if that had been the case. But you also couldn’t have imagined that he’d be brave or mature enough to apologise.

Maybe that was related to the fact that you, out of pure pride and spite, couldn’t see yourself apologizing to him.

“I think I do it because—”

“Styles,” you finally cut him off. “You don’t have to.”

“No, I want to. I want to tell you I’m sorry that I’m a dick to you only because I’m insecure and kind of a coward, to be honest.”

You scoffed before realizing how rude that was.

“What?” he asked. You could see him tense up, his brows furrowing, and guilt started burning in your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “It’s not funny, I just find it hard to believe you do things out of insecurity.”

“Well,” he said, “I find it hard not to be insecure when things happened the way they did.”

Great.

“And how did things happen, huh? What are you even talking about, Harry?”

He sighed. His hand was halfway up to his face before it fell back onto the mattress af if he’d changed his mind about putting something between your eyes and his. Again, braver than you figured he could be.

“Look, I don’t want to fight. I guess I was just trying to make sure you didn’t forget.”

Suddenly there was no clarification needed. You looked at him as he nervously tugged at his pearls after having just admitted whatever happened between you two had meant something to him. At least it had meant enough that he needed you to remember it. How could I ever forget it?, you wanted to ask him. But it was stupid and cheesy, so you settled for wondering it in silence. How could you ever forget the giggles as he shut the bathroom door behind you, or the way you gasped as he fucked you with his fingers against the wall, his warm breath on your neck and his other palm keeping you quiet? There certainly was no forgetting his gaze through the rest of the graduation party, the brush of his hand against his lips like he wanted you to see what he was thinking about.

Once the party was almost over, he had walked over to you and said Please in the softest of voices while taking your hand. How could you ever forget that?

“I didn’t forget,” you told him now.

Harry must have seen something true in your expression, because he didn’t say another word until the movie was over.

“Should I go?” he asked, voice thick after just waking up. He had inevitably fallen asleep during the third quarter of the movie. Also exhausted, you had laid beside him at some point, making sure to put as much space as possible between your bodies. It wasn’t a lot of space.

The room was dark except for the street lights shining dimly through your curtains, so you could barely see him even though you were facing each other. His head was already on your extra pillow, your calves already on the brink of touching. Your comforter already smelled of vanilla. Should he go? Probably. But what would be the use of him leaving? There was more damage to be done if he were to drive on dark and slick roads without enough sleep.

“No,” you murmured back. “Stay.”

“That’s what I told you,” he said, sleepiness nearly gone from his voice. “Back then.”

The shadow of a smile settled on your lips. “Yeah. I was so fucking awkward about the whole thing, wasn’t I?”

“No, I thought you looked cute in my kitchen.”

You chuckled and looked at his shoulder, because it seemed close enough to his face that he wouldn’t notice you couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. The nervous edge to your laughter seemed to echo in the room.

“And then you laughed, just like that, when I told you to come back to bed.”

“I was embarrassed, Harry.”

“I could tell,” he said. Harry shifted a little; you could feel his leg leaning on yours as he got closer. “You kept tugging at my t-shirt like you wanted to hide your thighs from me.”

“Kind of pointless,” you said. He stayed quiet for a second too long as one of his legs found its way between yours. Your breath hitched in your throat even though there was no pressure; his thigh was just there, and if you moved just a tiny bit—

“Yeah, but I sort of appreciated it,” his hand touched your chin so lightly you could have imagined it. So much for looking away. Staring you in the eye, as stern as you’d ever seen him, he said: “I enjoyed watching you squirm.”

Fuck him. That’s not what insecure men sounded like. You turned away from him, your core rubbing against his thigh in the process of disentangling your legs. Hopefully the gasp leaving your lips had been made quieter by the sound of the covers moving and your body hitting the mattress. With Harry’s breath on the back of your neck, you anxiously moved, trying to find a comfortable position in which you could forget, for even a split of a second, that he was right there behind you.

“Hey,” he said, amused. “I know I just said I like it when you squirm but maybe you should—”

A careless shift of your hips and your ass was suddenly right against his cock.

“—stop.”

And he was hard. Now still, with your back to his front, you called his name.

“Harry?” It wasn’t supposed to sound like a question, but your voice trembled at the last second.

“Sorry,” but he didn’t sound apologetic at all. “We were just talking about you in my shirt and all of that, so…”

“God, Styles.”

Harry laughed, and you felt it in the spot right under your ear. You pressed your thighs together since your frustration with his shamelessness wasn’t able to end the urge of grinding back against him. Just a little bit more, and then maybe you could fall asleep and wait until he was gone to masturbate and pretend this all had been a fever dream.

His hand grabbed your waist harshly as you moved your ass again.

“Are you sure you want this?”

You didn’t answer him, or ask what exactly this was, but you did push against him once more. Some stupid part of you hoped he would play along and let things go unspoken, but Harry just used the hand on your hip to keep you still as he spoke again.

“Say you’re sure,” he murmured. His mouth was closer now, and you could feel every word on his lips against your neck. The hand that rested on your waist fell to your stomach, pulling you into him. “And I’ll help you."

"Styles," you breathed out, looking down as he lifted your t-shirt just enough so his fingertips would brush the skin above the waistband of your shorts. "I don't—"

"What?" his chuckle echoed through your entire body. There wasn't an inch of space between the two of you. "Are you going to say you don't know what I'm talking about?"

You choked on a whimper.

"All you have to do is ask," a light kiss under your ear. That was the first time he kissed you in years, and it almost broke you. But that wasn't what did it. Harry broke you by whispering, so quietly you could have imagined it: "I won't hold it against you, love."

The realisation that you believed him was enough to make you say a soft okay.

There was no hesitation; his hand slid down the front of your boxers, the heat of his palm right between your legs. Your thighs closed around him, a moan caught in your throat as two of his fingers rubbed your clit through your panties. You were a mess, it was true, but Harry didn't seem much better. His heavy breath sounded obscene against your neck, his cock twitching at the small of your back.

"Spread your legs," he said, struggling to touch you in such a tight space. It sounded like an order.

"Don't tell me what to do," you said, barely disguising your lust behind annoyance. Then you spread your legs, letting Harry move his fingers in small circles that got you dripping without ever being enough. You tried shifting your hips to get more friction, but he kept rubbing you slowly as you soaked through your panties, seemingly entertained by your desperation. "Harry," you called, breathless.

"Yeah?"

The hand that wasn't under your clothes came to tug on your hair, and you burned. Your scalp, your skin, your pussy. He set it all on fire. One of your hands gripped his thigh, a soft moan leaving your lips as he responded to your touch by tightening the hold on your makeshift ponytail.

"Touch me."

He didn't try pretending to not understand what you meant, which you were thankful for. Then he fucked that up by muttering, ever so fucking smug, "Don't tell me what to do."

"Asshole," you hissed at the same time he moved the fabric of your underwear aside to tease your entrance with the fingers that had been touching your clit.

"Don't be mean, love," he started fingering you, slow but firm, the filthy sound of your wetness echoing in the room as his fingers curled inside you. "I know how you really feel."

There was no way you could muster up an answer; eyes hazy and jaw slack with arousal, you let him fuck you for what felt like ages without being able to form a single word. Sometimes he'd brush his thumb against you clit just so you'd clench around his hand, whining quietly as he muffled his own sounds on the crook of your neck. Once or twice he appeared to think you were gone enough to not notice as he tried to get his cock away from your body in a futile attempt of self-restraint, but each time you pulled him back by the thigh, grinding into him and getting fucked deeper as a result. Harry punished you for that by pulling harder on your hair, delighting himself in the fact that it only made you wetter, your movements more eager.

As your hips stuttered at another soft touch to your clit, Harry whispered, "Does it feel good?"

What a prick. He wanted you praising him, didn't he? Wanted you admitting how hot this all was, how you would have let him do anything to you. Harry wanted you to tell him how good he was at pushing your every button, clearing every thought on your head until him filling you was all that was left.

"What do you think?" you said between gritted teeth. Sweat dripped down the back of your neck as his fingers shifted in your cunt and he hit that particular spot inside you. Your glassy eyes fell shut at the sound of his voice.

"I think I missed this pussy," he said. You moaned as a third finger slid easily beside the others and the hand on your ponytail went down to your throat, over the chain of your necklace. "I think you can tell I did."

You could feel his hand hesitate on your neck, so you squeezed his thigh to assure him it was alright. Within a fraction of a second, the pressure on your throat tightened. If you could look down, you'd see your golden cross gleaming right below the hand he was choking you with. It was too much. You were going to cum and he could feel it.

"You feel incredible," Harry confessed. "I missed you."

You convulsed, a silent scream shaping your mouth as you rode out your orgasm, his three fingers still stuck between your legs. As the aftershocks stopped, you could faintly hear Harry whispering your name, the tenderness in his voice bringing tears to your eyes. But then again, maybe that was the intense orgasm.

“Are you okay?”

His easygoing voice, usually so grating, sounded quite comforting now. You relaxed your thighs, and the sound of his fingers leaving you was just a little louder than the sigh you couldn’t hold back. You mumbled an agreement to his question, and you could feel his smile at the back of your neck as he said, “Just sensitive, then.”

A beat of heavy silence, and then: “Can I touch you?”

He didn’t answer right away, even though you could still feel him hard behind you, and it killed you a little bit inside. You were about to roll away from him, already forming an excuse about cleaning up, when he spoke.

“You don’t have to,” he didn’t sound like he was smiling anymore. You wanted to turn and check, to look into his green eyes and try to find out what he was thinking, but you were scared. If his hesitation meant that you had been vulnerable for him when he couldn’t do the same for you— “I don’t want you to think that's why I apologized."

You rolled your eyes at his chivalry, but were relieved by it all the same.

“Styles,” you said. “I’m trusting you here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you finally rolled on the mattress so you could meet his eye. “Now take off your shorts.”

He smirked as you shoved the comforter off of both of your bodies, taking a second too long to admire the dimly lit outline of his body. “Y’think you’re gonna boss me around now, huh?”

“I think you’re gonna let me, if it gets you off,” you shrug.

Harry opens his mouth to argue, but stays silent once he sees you reaching for the hem of your t-shirt. You throw it to the ground and hope he doesn’t notice your expression as you make a mental note to pick it up later, but that’s obviously unnecessary since he’s staring at your chest, the glinting of the cross between your boobs and your hard nipples monopolizing his attention. His right hand, still messy with your juices, reaches out to touch you, but you lean back and make him watch as you lower your shorts and underwear in one go before kneeling back on the bed.

“So?”

He shook his head, unbelieving, and took one final look at your naked body before meeting your eyes. “You love this, don’t you?”

Harry undressed like you’d done; t-shirt, then shorts, then kneeling back on the bed. You wanted to look down at his cock, see the proof of how much you got to him, but couldn’t leave his gaze. There you both stood on your knees, silently staring at each other’s mere silhouettes. Like the gold of your chain, the pearls on his neck were more visible than the rest of him. “You love talking like we’re at some game you can win,” he clarified, smiling.

“Are you saying you don’t do the same?” skepticism dripped down your words.

“I’m saying you can’t win.”

The way he could go from earnest to cocky in the blink of an eye was sort of giving you whiplash. It did make things interesting, though. He threw whatever he felt like saying your way, apparently without thinking twice; for the second time that night, you surprised yourself by thinking of him as brave.

His clean hand came to touch your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in the most romantic gesture you had witnessed since he’d held your hand all the way back to his place when you were graduating university. Harry called your name like a prayer.

“Can I kiss you?”

It was such a weird question, considering you’d just cum all over his hand. But it felt so fitting, so right. Being attracted to him and having teasing banter were not questionable, that was just how you operated. It had been taken to an extreme, sure, but it wasn’t new. This was new. You nodded anyway.

He met you halfway, his lips tasting yours as your bare bodies touched for the first time in years. You whimpered into each other's mouths, Harry's hands tangled in your hair while you held his face like it could break. You could feel his erection between you, twitching every now and again when your tongue dragged against his, some precum getting on your belly.

"H," you moaned between kisses when one of his hands descended to your chest and teased your nipple.

He stopped kissing you for a second too long, leaving your swollen lips tingling as you waited for him to catch his breath. But he didn't kiss you again, just stood there touching your boob and the back of your neck, eyes going over every inch of your face. You could feel yourself blushing at the attention, already at the brink of an awkward giggle, when he said quietly "You haven't called me that in a while," he cupped your face gently, then planted the ghost of a soft kiss to your lips. "I like it."

You smiled and kissed him again, because you were worried about what you would say if you put that kiss into words. Each feverish movement brought you closer until you were practically on top of him, sitting on his thigh. Harry grabbed your ass, urging you to move; you gasped as he pushed you to grind on his leg, no longer able to keep kissing his lips but definitely working on making a mess of his thigh.

"Love," he whispered in your ear. "I really wanna fuck you. Can we do that?"

The nails digging into his back made Harry let out a breathy laugh. You made a move to touch his dick, but his hand grabbed yours right before you could. "I want you to cum on my thigh first."

"But you—"

You sounded broken, legs burning as you rode his thigh frantically.

"I'll have my way with you, don't worry," he said. "So desperate to get on my dick, aren't you?"

The only sound of outrage you could muster was a low growl as you threw your head back, neck exposed for his teeth as your clit pulsed against the muscle of his leg. Harry kept holding onto you, assisting your every move as his lips worked on your neck. The sharp sting of his teeth followed by his tongue as he tended to the bruises he had just created, his soft curls on the side of your face, a tight grip on your ass and your back.

"Are you going to come for me again so I can fuck that pussy like I've been wanting to?"

Your hips stuttered and you came for the second time, whimpering and refusing to let him go as he gently laid you down on your back, still shaking. Harry tried to get up but you wouldn’t let his shoulders go, and he laughed against your lips as your mouth searched for his.

“Y’know,” you said, voice sounding unnaturally raspy, words practically breathed into his mouth. “You can’t talk like that.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“It’s not fair, H.”

He didn’t argue with that. You felt him reaching between your bodies, hissing a little when he touched himself. “I’ll make it fair,” he told you. “Like it used to be. Okay?”

Maybe you had been made insane by your post-orgasm haze, because that made perfect sense. You nodded, not a bit of hesitation, as he teased your oversensitive clit with the head of his cock.

“Don’t tease, Styles,” you said, and it sounded so much more like your usual self that it brought a sparkle of defiance to Harry’s eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”

He arched an eyebrow, smirking, but seemed to give in to your command. “You know me too well.”

Then he fucked into you slowly, and you could feel your cunt gripping his every inch as he bit into your neck again, muffling whatever sounds he felt like making. His pearls hung between you as he thrusted, losing all the control he had seconds ago. Harry was doing it fast and hard, a little out of it, until you caught his necklace between your teeth and he moved his hips with such precision that you held back a scream.

"Like that, huh?"

He grabbed one of your thighs and lifted it just enough to get the same angle everytime he moved into you. Your wetness made a mess of his crotch and the insides of your thighs, your eyes rolled behind your now closed eyelids, you drooled all over his pearls. Harry called your name, desperate, when you pulled his hair with enough strength to leave his scalp sore.

"I can't," he mumbled into your ruined neck, holding your thigh so hard it would be sure to bruise as he used his other arm as leverage to fuck you, fist tight on the comforter. "Sorry, love."

He moved as if he'd pull out, and you held him closer, letting his necklace fall from your lips. "No, H," you said. "It's ok."

His brows furrowed as he hesitated, torn between listening to your words or his own head, that knew better than to cum inside you. Not wearing a condom had been reckless enough, and he wasn’t a stupid kid anymore.

“I’m on the pill,” you told him. A particularly sharp thrust followed your statement, and you turned your face away from him, staring at the arm supporting his body so Harry wouldn’t see the entirely fucked-out look on your face. You kissed his bicep softly, just a drag of your panting lips against his skin. “Just give it to me.”

That was enough for him to cum with a low drawn out groan followed by a quiet whimper of your name, body shaking over your own. Barely any time had passed when he pulled out of you, spilling onto your sheets and your thighs. You shivered, feeling his cum staining your skin as he mumbled nonsense into your throat.

Apparently the nonsense meant he still wasn’t done with you, because Harry started kissing down your side as soon as his legs could move enough to get him up the bed and kneeling on the ground. “Styles,” you said urgently, sitting up. “You don’t—”

“Shut up,” he said against the crook of your hip.

“Don’t be a dick—”

He interrupted you by licking a stripe from your entrance, still dripping in his cum, to your neglected clit. You cried out, too sensitive, as he licked, sucked, and kissed your swollen flesh until he had you coming for a third time, his chin glistening with the mess you made together as your lifeless body fell back on the bed.

Harry stood up, still shaking a little, and pulled the comforter over you before falling onto the bed himself.

“Next time we do this,” he said, breathless, while you were still twitching from your last orgasm, and you found that very presumptuous of him. “I’ll bring over that old t-shirt so you can wear it.”

You turned slowly onto your side so you could face him, letting him see your puzzled expression. Then you remembered what he was talking about. That morning, with you in his kitchen, you had been wearing his but daddy, I love him t-shirt. You laughed, incredulous.

“Want me to call you daddy, H?” you joked.

His cock twitched against your thigh. “Oh my God,” you cried out, cheeks hurting a little because you couldn’t help the widest smile. “I can’t believe you!”

The echo of his laughter followed you to sleep.

Harry woke up to silence and an empty bed. From where you sat at the kitchen counter, you could see him anxiously looking around as if he’d find at any second that you had panicked and left, abandoning him in your own apartment. The moments he spent searching for you made guilt tug at your heart; he knew you could, at any second, decide to pretend last night hadn’t happened.

But the fact that you could didn’t mean that you would do it, so when he finally turned on the bed and met your eyes, you smiled softly.

“Good morning, Styles,” you said. “How do you feel about tea?”

You lifted your own mug in a sort of awkward toast. Harry didn’t seem to mind, though. He just smiled and nodded, hoping that would suffice as an answer.

“Your clothes are in the dresser, but you can just take mine if they’re more comfortable.”

Harry dressed in silence, his cream sweater over your boxer shorts, as you poured his tea. You laid his mug beside your own, watching him. His hair was adorably disheveled, eyes a little swollen with sleep, and his thighs looked just as amazing as last night in your clothes. He also looked very cozy in his sweater, and the realisation that you wanted to hug him didn’t scare you as much as it would have yesterday.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with one hand and grabbing his tea from the counter with the other. He looked at you, fresh out of the shower and wearing a cardigan over a sundress, like Markham and your kitchenette had collided to form an outfit. “You look good.”

You shrugged but smiled, a relatively comfortable silence falling over the both of you.

“We should talk—”

“Do you want to—”

Harry put his mug to his lips to let you know you could speak first. You cleared your throat, at a loss for words.

"Last night was nice."

What a poet. Harry smirked, but didn't interrupt you.

"And I—” you took a deep breath, shifting your gaze to his hands so you wouldn't have to look him in the eye. He had very nice hands. "I'm sorry for the past couple years, too. I felt like you were trying to make my life harder just for a laugh, using whatever good thing had happened between us to hurt me. It made a little bitter."

He arched an eyebrow.

"Very bitter."

"And I was very childish," he said. "I was upset that you treated me like a stranger when I got to Markham, and I became a little shit about the whole thing."

"I just—I wanted to make something out of myself here. And then you showed up and I couldn't be that person around you. It drove me mad," you finally looked up at him. "You drive me mad."

Harry carefully put his mug on the counter, then took yours from you and did the same. With warm hands, he held your face while planting the sweetest kiss on your mouth.

"We'll do better," he whispered against your lips. "Won't we?"

"Yeah," you whispered back. "We will."

But first, payback. Harry Styles could fuck you to the moon and back, or whatever it was he'd spent the last weekend doing, but he would not get away with last week's little stunt, or with robbing you of precious room 103. Your beige heels clicked on the creaking floors of the disgusting classroom where you taught on Mondays as you talked your students through next week’s lesson plan. Was it a little beyond your qualifications as someone with a master's on Literature? Yes. Would that stop you? Absolutely not. They seemed excited about the whole ordeal, and that was enough to convince you that you weren't being a bad teacher, exactly. Good teachers were fun, right?

Maybe Harry had been a good teacher all along. Having that nice, kind thought cleared your conscience entirely as you proceeded with your plan.

The teasing between you two wasn’t entirely gone throughout the week, but it did lose most of its mean edge. Calling him a fucking hippie, or whatever was something that could apparently be accomplished in a much more tender tone, the one you also used to say “Fuck off, H,” when he jokingly called you Professor Umbridge. Every day of the week he had driven you home after class, bought dinner that you ate together on your bed, and kissed your neck in very particular spots. Talking to him was surprisingly easy, and you could entertain each other for hours only by telling weird anecdotes both from university and Markham, friends and professors and colleagues and students all becoming the background to the life you had lived together even though you were apart. There was also so much you still had to learn about one another, childhood and teenage years and post-grad, and the time for all of it would eventually come. Now was the time for retribution.

It was the next Monday, and both of your classes had started a few minutes ago. Well, his had. Your students were all standing around the corridor on the first floor, silently waiting in costume for their cue.

The fact that Harry was so soft spoken made it pretty hard for you to pick an appropriately disturbing time to get the plan going, but at some point you could hear a few of his students’ voices. Assuming that meant a discussion was taking place, you nodded towards Richard, your Romeo, and he stepped forward.

Some of the other Drama students followed suit, prop torches in hand as the scene indicated, and together they burst into room 103 as Richard, with the poise of a Shakespearean character, recited loudly: “What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?”

Khalil, head held high, walked in right after and spoke as Benvolio.

As the student playing Mercutio was saying something about gentle Romeo, you walked up the classroom door.

Harry was standing behind his desk, your golden cross shining beneath his pearls; you had put the necklace on him as a joke during your Saturday dinner and he hadn’t taken it off since. His brows were furrowed and his mouth gaping as if he had forgotten to close it, while his students appeared to be mildly amused. Your kids without speaking parts were pacing between rows of desks on their way to a nonexistent ball as Mercutio, standing right before Harry, called to the Romeo at the back of the room.

“You are a lover. Borrow Cupid’s wings and soar with them above a common bound.”

Harry smiled, and the part of you seeking silly revenge took the backseat for the slightest moment. He seemed to get over the initial shock of the disruption and watched them with a delighted curiosity.

“Is love a tender thing?” Richard asked his classmate, but he could’ve been talking to the music professor. “Is it too rough , too rude, too boist’rous, and it pricks like thorn.”

Green eyes searched for you and found you leaning on the wooden door, ankles crossed nonchalantly and a triumphant smile on your face.

“If love be rough with you,” Mercutio told Romeo,”be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.”

But Harry was not watching them anymore as you mouthed “Got you, Styles”, the scene unfolding behind the two of you as you won.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #mine #writing #if love be rough with you #enemies to lovers

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txdoroki · 4 years ago

Note

I was wondering if I could ask for a request where the reader is a fashion designer and is hosting like a runway show to show off their designs but a model couldn’t make it/ was sick and they were panicking cause they needed someone to fill in for thier favorite outfit. And so they get either bakugo, Tenya or aizawa (whoever you want to write) to fill in. And after the show, the reader was like 🥺 wow you did such a good job, we should work together again 😊 and the charecter is like sure, but you gotta go on a date with me :))

This could just be like a quick drabble, I just though it would be interesting

I hope this isn’t too much to ask :)) and if you don’t want to do it, no problem. This is my first time requesting anything, so I hope it’s clear enough! Have a nice day, thank you!!!

of course! this is a really fun idea i hope you like what i wrote! it isn’t too much to ask, thank you for the request! have a nice day aswell :)

(includes bakugou, iida, aizawa)

desc: you’re a fashion designer hosting your first show, and the man who was going to showcase the best outfit you had planned called in.... he can’t make it.

warnings: none

words: 1,275

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

your dream of becoming a fashion designer was finally coming true. tonight!

you’d worked so hard for all of this, saving up money since you were 15. 7 years of money saving kickstarted you to your dream, a runway show.

it had a mix of masculine, feminine, and androgynous outfits for your models.

the outfit you were most excited for others to see was one you’d been working on for ages, collecting bits and pieces for it over the years.

while daydreaming about how amazing the show would be, you got a call from the model who would be showing that outfit’s manager. ah fuck.

“hello, miss y/n. i’m sorry to inform you in such late notice that (name of model) has caught a cold, and cannot come in. good luck with your show.”

oh shit. what will you do now??

*now this splits into each character’s section*

-bakugou-

the model that the agency came up with instead of the planned, was none other than bakugou katsuki himself. he had a widespread reputation of being aggressive, but he was more just pissy when he showed up.

“the names bakugou. now, who do i owe the pleasure to?” he scoffed, “y/n? cute. for a goddamned puppy.”

what is that even supposed to mean?

you didn’t have time to retort back, instead getting a call that your show will soon be beginning.

“yeah yeah, i know the drill,” he winked, turning away, “hope i don’t disappoint or whatever. not that i give two shits.”

you nervously walked to the seat you saved for yourself, a crowd of people surrounded the runway, including some very famous designer agencies that were on the lookout for new designers to employ.

you took a deep breath as your show began, and so far it all was going to plan!

all of the outfits had the crowd gasping in surprise, taking in the small details that’d be missed if they were not fashion enthusiasts themselves.

when bakugou was next, you were silently wishing and hoping that he’d pull off the outfit. you knew it’d look amazing on him since he’s good looking anyways, but you swear if he fucks up you’ll yell his ear off.

“last outfit for tonight folks, worn by the firey model himself, bakugou katsuki,” the announcer said as bakugou walked out.

he looked better than the original model, and you had to dig your nails into your hand to stay quiet.

once he got to the end of the runway, he struck a pose and walked back.

afterwards, he walked up to you. this was confusing to you, you’ve never heard of models really doing that.

“i made that outfit look so hot, nice designing skills,” he complimented, bringing a small blush to your cheeks, “what? i just told you you had skill, not like i told you you’re hot.” he snickered, “you are anyways though.”

“um yeah thanks,” you figured now would be a good time to ask, “you did very good, you wanna work together again sometime?”

his eyes gleamed with satisfaction, “sure, but you gotta let me take you out to dinner.”

“huh??”

“you heard me,” he winked and pushed a piece of paper with his phone number into your hand before walking away.

-text-

you: hii

bakugou: hey;) ill pick you up tomorrow at 7

-iida-

the agency told you their other models were busy, so you had to have one of your models do their original outfits plus the favorite.

you, obviously, chose the most talented model you had. tenya iida. his family had a long long line of models (see what i did there;)) and he was most definitely the best in your eyes.

when you offered the job to him, he agreed instantly, saying it was good for him to help you as he wanted to convey how responsible he was to his family.

he took the agreement a little far, even saying that he’d never let you down as that is his duty to fulfill, but you just let him get determined to succeed. it was nice that he was so passionate about modeling, he always made sure to give things his very best.

“this outfit is very creative and well-crafted. good job, miss y/n.” iida gave you two thumbs up before running to get into his first outfit for the night.

iida was extremely talented, always getting the best ratings and reviews from the public. a few times he was put on the front cover of a magazine, gaining him a lot of followers.

during the few times he walked, he got many cheers from the crowd. many people found him to be insanely attractive, some even came to shows with him in them just for him. you found him so lucky, and it shocked you to find he didn’t have a girlfriend at all for how many people thirst for him.

the way he looked in the ending piece was just- arf arf awooga sexy. you could’ve gotten a nosebleed from how hot he was.

after the show you looked for him, wanting to thank him for the favor.

when you finally found him, he was arguing with one of your other models about how they were there two minutes later than told. it’s very important to the public to be responsible and good at timing. you cannot succeed with trashy expectations, was around what we was saying, but you weren’t really tuned in.

“hey, iida! good job tonight, i really appreciate you working with me so kindly,” you smiled at him.

“of course, y/n! it’s my duty. would you wish to collaborate with me in future business ideals?”

“hmmm.... on one condition,” you smirked, “you have to go on a date with me!”

“i would love to, thank you, y/n.”

-aizawa-

none of your other models would agree to wearing the outfit, saying their schedules were too packed to fit it in.

you figured you might as well call your friend aizawa, he was hot and good at looking like his ego was too big.

“what do you want, y/n?” he yawned into the phone.

“please, shota, do you mind being a guest in my runway show?”

“what’s in it for me?”

“huh?”

“let me take you out on a date and i’ll agree to being in the show,” you could tell how absolutely serious he was. made you lowkey happy cause you’d been thirsting for him for a while.

“yeah yeah, now get here asap dummy,” you chuckled when he whispered a maybe too loud yay, hanging up the phone.

“y/n, have you got a fill-in for the finishing outfit?” your assistant asked.

“yes, add ‘shota aizawa’ to the list.” you ordered, your assistant immediately scribbling down his name, thanking you as they hurried away.

you knew aizawa would rock it, he was actually the inspiration for the entire piece. many people were confused as they’d never seen him before, but were hoping they would again sometime.

he looked so handsome in it, and you were really happy he wanted to take you on a date.

after the show you were lost in thought, wondering what kind of date he’d take you on. would it be dinner? or the beach? or the park? or target? you loved target. truly it didn’t matter to you where he took you, even if you would just be at his place for a few hours you were still super hyped.

“let’s go, y/n,” aizawa walked up to you and took your hand, dragging you to his car.

“you’re lucky i took the subway here,” you scoffed, clicking your seatbelt on.

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alicedopey · 4 years ago

Text

Third Birthday’s A Charm

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Halfdan x OC (Gaby)

Genre: Modern AU, Romance, Smut-ish

Words: 1794

Warnings: Well, there is a little bit of smut.

Summary: Gaby is not the only one who can make a wish for her birthday.

A/N: This is a birthday gift for my other half, @naaladareia Honey, you are such a kind-hearted and caring person, always there to listen. I wish you the best for your very special day. I love you.

A/N 2: This is the continuation of a little series so if you are interested in reading the first two installments: Part I - Part II

Halfdan woke up at the sound of something crashing on the ground followed by a loud gasp. He groaned and rolled on the side. The floor under his body was different from was he was used to. He blinked a few times and opened his eyes to close them back instantly. There was definitely too much sun here.

“What..what are you doing here?” A feminine voice stuttered.

It was something distant and yet, very familiar. His eyes opened again and abruptly sat up on the floor. He remembered where he was by now – or rather, when he was.

He looked up at the woman who had been in his thoughts for a while. Her jaw was opened, her eyes wide, her hair slightly disheveled and she was wearing some large loose shirt which let her legs show. He smirked.

“Hello!” He rasped.

She seemed to process his word and finally greeted him back. She bent down to gather the broken pieces of the weirdly bright colored pot she had certainly been holding in her hands before dropping it when she spotted him. She left for a few seconds and came back with a wet cloth to wash the liquid that was spilled on her odd floor. When she was done, she gave him a shy look.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here? How did you come?”

Halfdan smiled and stood up. “Don’t you celebrate the day you were born today? I thought it was a pattern for us to meet on that special occasion.”

“Maybe…I did not make any wish this time, though.”

“You have your ways, I have mine”. He answered in an enigmatic tone but she was still curious.

“Magic, I guess?”

He nodded. “Of some sort.”

“Why are you here?” She asked, extremely confused.

He approached her, extending a hand to play with a strand of her hair. He scrutinized her face since he did not have to pleasure to do so during the former two times they had met. It seemed so soft and spotless, quite different from the women he knew. It was also very inviting so his hand let go of her hair to run along her cheek.

“I have to admit I was highly suspicious of you at first but when you mentioned something about your birthday wish, I figured the Gods wants us to meet. It was fate.”

She put her hand on his, he got closer as he kept explaining himself. “I went to the Seer who told me my adventurous destiny was waiting for me much further than I thought. It was not the first time he said those words but I always thought I was made to discover every new land until I had reached my destination. Now, I understand what he was meaning.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you are here to stay?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s up to the Gods and their mysterious ways. We should enjoy it while we can.”

He pecked her lips. “You got any food? I’m starving.”

¤ ¤

Gaby filled the dishwasher while Halfdan was relaxing on her couch after stuffing his face with the brunch she had prepared: eggs, ham, cheese, potatoes with juice, coffee and tea, that he happened to like more.

She could not help pinching her skin again. Having a Viking in her home could not possibly be true and yet, here he was…and maybe for a long time. It would take a while for him to adjust since he was watching every object around him suspiciously but he was an adventurer so she was certain he would manage in the end.

“What are the plans for today?”

His voice almost made her jump. She had not heard him at all, too lost in her thoughts.

“Nothing special.” She replied. “A nice bath to relax, I’ll probably bake some birthday cake and then I’ll cook some pasta dish for dinner.”

“No big celebration? Nobody is coming here?”

“It is…quite difficult nowadays. To make a long story short, there is some kind of plague going on. We can’t really visit each other and all the places when where we can eat and drink are closed, as well as cinemas or museum.”

He frowned. “What are those?”

“Places to have some fun.” She did not really want to get into the details since she was not ever sure he would go there once. “I could offer you to go outside but we will have to wear a mask.”

Halfdan let out a disgusted sound when she pointed at the numerous masks lying on her cupboard. “No, thank you. I might be up for a bath, though. Shall we?”

“Together?” She squeaked in spite of herself.

“Well, of course”. He eyed her up and down. “Besides it’s not like I have not seen it all before.”

Gaby felt herself blushing like an innocent teenage girl even though the idea of sharing a bath with him was very tempting.

She led Halfdan to her bathroom where he looked everywhere with wide eyes. It gave her time to prepare the bath, adding some lavender bubble bath and relaxing oil. She turned off the water when there was enough and looked at him shyly again. “Bath is ready.”

Halfdan started at the foam suspiciously before getting undressed, and dipped in. Gaby did the same, trying to ignore the fact that he was ogling her shamelessly. The water had a relaxing effect on her and she leaned back against the tub. On the opposite side, Hafldan mimicked her actions.

“Relaxing, isn’t it?”

“It is…how long do we have to stay here?”

Gaby laughed. “Impatient, are we?”

“I’m just not used to laziness, that’s all.” He bit back teasingly.

She threw some water at him playfully. Halfdan suddenly leaned forwards and pulled her against him. She immediately felt his hardness. Her breath hitched as his hand travelled down her back, her ass and her thigh that he grabbed to make her straddle him. He slid into her with a deep sigh. Gaby’s head tilted backwards in pleasure.

“I guess I could get used to this type of laziness.” He rasped before moving in and out of her.

Gaby gripped his shoulders to steady herself and meet his thrusts. The water splashed gently against the tub and soon, only the sound of their lovemaking could be heard.

¤ ¤

After their steamy sexual encounter, they got out of the tub. Gaby gave Halfdan more comfortable clothes that her ex-boyfriend had left in her apartment. It was really confusing to see him wearing some pants and a tee-shirt with his warrior demeanor. It was also very charming if she was honest with herself.

Later, he helped her bake her chocolate birthday cake – well, more like created a mess in her kitchen – but they had fun. Gaby was happy to fall into some sort of domestic life with him. It had been a long time and it felt nice to have someone around her during those very particular times.

Halfdan talked to her about some of his travels and raids. She winced at some of the most gruesome details but enjoyed every word. After all, it was as if she was watching a live documentary about Vikings. Only, it was better than television, better than the show she had enjoyed watching so much. To her surprise, Halfdan was a great story teller, very passionate and entertaining. He was answering all of her questions, pleased to see she was interested in everything he had to tell.

Dinner time came quickly. Halfdan devoured the pasta Gaby had prepared and then watched her blow the candles on her birthday cake.

“What did you wish for this time?”

She smiled. “It will not come true if I tell you.”

He rolled his eyes at her answer. A playful smile suddenly curved his lips upwards. “I am here. What more could you ask for?”

It was her turn to roll her eyes at his cockiness. “Of course. Still, I will not tell you my wish, you sexy murderous Viking.”

His smile widened. “You like calling me that, don’t you? I remember you saying it last time.”

“You remember too many things.” She mumbled under her breath.

Halfdan chuckled. “My brother keeps telling me that.”

Gaby suddenly frowned, thinking of Harald. “Does he know you are here?”

“I told him everything, of course.”

“And he let you leave?” From what she knew of Harald, he was quite possessive when his brother was concerned.

“My brother has his own destiny and I have mine.” He smiled. “To be truthful, he was more inclined to let me leave because he knew it was about a woman. Helpless romantic! I only hope none of them will try and kill him while I’m gone, no matter how long it is.”

Gaby felt a slight pang in her chest when he reminded her that there was a slight chance for him to disappear one day, just as fast as he had arrived. Halfdan sensed her sudden mood change and rose up from his chair to join her. He made her stand up before attacking her lips with a kiss that left them both breathless. They exchanged a lustful gaze.

“Why don’t you show me how sexy you think I am in that oddly over comfortable bed of yours?”

How could she say no to such a proposition?

First, she cleaned up everything while Halfdan was trying to get familiar with his new surroundings and was purposely avoiding the television, a television that he had almost destroyed when she had turned it on to show him what it was. He would definitely need more time with new technology.

When she was done, the two of them went to bed where they had sex and talked some more about Halfdan’s adventures. He held her in his arms. Gaby was happy to have spent another special and eventful birthday for the third time but also worried that there was a possibility he might not be here tomorrow when she would wake up.

Before falling asleep though, she remembered Halfdan’s earlier words. We should enjoy it while we can. He was right. For the moment he was there with her, maybe for a day or maybe for ten years but either way, they seemed to share some special bond as if their destinies were linked. It meant that no matter what happened, they would always find each other again.

Tagging (please tell me if you want to be added or removed): @naaladareia @flowers-in-your-hayr @gearhead66 @therealcalicali @tephi101 @ivarswickedqueen @akamaiden @peaceisadirtyword @captstefanbrandt @mblaqgi @medievalfangirl

#birthday fic #vikings #gaby's birthday #@naaladareia's birthday #halfdan x oc #Halfdan the Black #romance #modern au #smut

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thepancakeboi · 4 years ago

Text

124. “You seem like a friendly face, mind if I sit with you?”

When I had walked into one of the many cafes in Shibuya for lunch, I had not expected the visit to be anything noteworthy. I was going to get something quick to eat and leave just as quickly. That is until I looked around the place. It’s never been a very crowded cafe, even at its busiest. It’s one of the hidden little gems Ann had shown me a few months ago that I’ve started frequenting somewhat regularly. But, at one of the tables closest to me, I see Ann herself sitting with someone. The other person, probably a friend of Ann’s, is unfamiliar to me. I decide to approach them, greeting them as I say, “Hello, Ann.”

Ann’s face lights up as she replies, “Oh, hey Goro!”

It’s days like these when I’m glad I have her as a friend. She was the first of Ren’s friends to accept me for who I am. Once she found out that I did, in fact, have a sweet tooth despite saying otherwise, she constantly dragged me with her to have whatever dessert she fancied that day. I’ve grown to genuinely enjoy her company. Even if I already know the answer, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

“We’re gonna get some cake! Can you believe she hasn’t had the cake here? If I had known you weren’t busy, I would’ve asked you to come too!”

“That’s all right.” I turn my head to look at the person Ann’s with. She has short black hair that fluffs out a bit. The rest of her face is obscured, her head turned as if to avoid making eye contact with me. Compared to Ann’s vibrant outfit, this girl’s is much more subdued. Even so, her long-sleeved gray top that exposes her shoulders and the black skirt seem to suit her, for some reason. I wonder why I haven’t met this girl until now. I look back to Ann as I remark, “I don’t think you’ve introduced me to your friend. What’s her name?”

“Ah! The name. Um...it’s Akira! Akira Kurusu.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet, Kurusu-san. You seem like a friendly face, mind if I sit with you?” The girl only shakes her head in response, not even looking up at me. Her reticent attitude gives me pause. I didn’t mean to offend her. “My apologies. Did I say something wrong?”

“No no! Sit down,” Ann says reassuringly. I sit down in a chair between the two girls as Ann stammers, trying to explain Akira’s behavior. “Uh, it’s just...that...she...she’s a huge fan of yours! Yeah. And we didn’t think we’d be seeing you.” She laughs awkwardly as she finishes, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers.

“Oh? I’m honored,” I reply, pulling out my typical TV-perfect smile that’s as fake as the personality it belongs to. Even if Ann knows that I’m very much unlike my detective prince facade, Akira likely doesn’t know that. I figure it’s best to keep up that pretense around her. “Most people seemed to forget my name after the Phantom Thieves incident ended. So, how do you two know each other?”

“I, uh, met her at one of my photoshoots! She’s wanted to be a model for a loooong time.”

“A model? I’m certain you’ll do well in the industry. You have the looks befitting a model.” Akira still doesn’t look at me, her gaze glued to her hands in her lap. Her nails are painted black, and I think I can see her blushing? Or perhaps it’s makeup. Either is possible, all things considered. She is rather flat-chested for a model, but there is nothing wrong with th-okay, why am I even noticing this? I really hope she didn’t catch me looking. After a few seconds of silence, I turn to Ann, who didn’t seem to notice my earlier gaze. My voice is hushed as I gently ask, “Are you sure she’s okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s really shy at first.” Ann doesn’t seem too surprised at her friend’s behavior. Maybe it’s normal for Akira. Ann seems to remember something as she quickly adds, “But she does talk about you a lot!”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm! I don’t think she’d be able to stop talking about you. She goes on and on about how great you are.”

The laugh I give, while mostly fake, is a somewhat genuine one. “Surely, you exaggerate.”

“Nope. We went to get crepes, and once she found out you were my friend, she talked about you the whole time.”

“I see. Well, a friend of Ann’s is a friend of mine,” I say, looking over at Akira. She’s still staring at her hands as she fiddles nervously with the chain attached to her skirt. Hold on, why am I still noticing these little details? That thought gets shoved aside. Right now, I need to find out what exactly is making Akira act so quiet around me. Is she perhaps intimidated due to my former popularity? If that’s what the problem is, I need to try and get her to open up to me somehow, get her to see that I’m not as unapproachable as she thinks. Well, not unapproachable due to being the detective prince, that is. I doubt someone like her would be comfortable around my true self. “It’s all right. You don’t have to be shy around me. You and Ann are probably much more popular than me.”

“Oh, don’t say that! You’re the second detective prince. Even she knew about you after being in Tokyo for only a couple of months.”

“You’re not from here?” Akira shakes her head, starting to play with the chain hanging off her black choker. I can’t see much of her face, but I think I see a smile starting to form. At least she seems to be more at ease, even if she hasn’t said a word thus far. “Are you enjoying Tokyo so far?” A nod this time. “How long have you lived here? Or are you just visiting?”

“She’s been here for about two years now,” Ann says for Akira. “Likes it so much better than home.”

“In that case, perhaps I know the area where you’re living? I’ve been to a lot of places in Tokyo.” As I finish my comment, Akira’s chest starts to heave. Is she...laughing? What a strange girl. It’s clear she’s trying to hold her laughter in as if she doesn’t want anyone to hear it. I don’t understand. What’s so funny about what I just said? “Kurusu-san? Are you all right?”

Akira finally looks up at me with brilliant gray eyes accentuated by a lot of makeup: eyeliner, pink eyeshadow, and even a little black heart under her left eye. Her gaze is sharp, and it feels like she’s staring right into my soul. It almost reminds me of- Wait a minute. I get a closer look at the person sitting next to me. I recognize those eyes. My own eyes narrow instantly as I drop the detective prince act entirely.

“You.”

“Akira” gives me a lopsided smile, their identity finally revealed to me. I know exactly who this person is. “Hi, Akeppi~” the “girl” who is none other than my boyfriend, Ren Amamiya, says before quickly kissing me. His lips, I notice, are covered with lipstick, and the blush I had noticed earlier was indeed a lot of makeup. Now that I know exactly who this is, I understand why I was so drawn to the mysterious person next to me. I allow myself to notice that he’s wearing black thigh highs over fishnet tights. Well, I suppose this being Ren explains the flat-chestedness observation from earlier. “Are you enjoying yourself, staring at me?”

My eyes dart up upon hearing his question, seeing the devious look in his eyes. Damn it, did he notice earlier then...? I groan, “Shut up. Just...explain. Now.”

“We didn’t mean to trick you!” Ann says, trying not to giggle now that the charade is done. “I just wanted to see if Ren could pass off as a girl, and he let me dress him up.”

“It must’ve worked if even Akeppi didn’t notice,” Ren says as he scoots his chair closer so that he can hug me. So much for that reserved personality from before. “You should’ve seen the look on your face when you realized it was me.”

“You are a menace,” I snap, trying to pry his arms off of me with no success.

“Yup! But I’m your menace.”

“Damn you both.”

Ann and Ren both laugh at that. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had been trying to hold it in during the entire conversation. How they made it so long without laughing, I have no idea. Despite how annoyed I am that I fell for their spur-of-the-moment prank, I can’t help but join in, chuckling under my breath. Their laughter is infectious. Well, at least they’re enjoying themselves.

“This was fun, Ann,” Ren comments after he’s had his fill of laughing at my expense. “We should do this again.”

“For sure!” she replies. “We could try another style and see how it looks.”

“Wait, I have an idea. You should do Akeppi next time,” Ren suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh, that would be amazing!” Ann immediately looks at me, her excitement at the prospect all too obvious. “Can I? Please?”

“Not a chance,” I snap, refusing to entertain this latest scheme of theirs. “Ren may have agreed to it, but I’m not Ren.”

“Come on, please?” Ann looks at me, doe-eyed, pleading with me to allow her request. “At least let me do your hair and paint your nails.”

“Fine,” I groan. I can put up with that much, I suppose. They both grin simultaneously, sharing a quick glance. Something tells me I should be concerned about what they’re plotting, but I can deal with that later. “So, are you both actually planning on having cake, or was that as much a lie as Ren being a girl named Akira Kurusu?”

“Oh, yeah! That was true. Do you want some too, Goro?”

“I don’t think I’ll have much of a choice, considering someone probably won’t let go of me.” I pointedly look at Ren as I say this, who is still hugging me, might I add.

“No~” he hums as he tightens his hold, confirming that much for me.

“Well, in that case, I suppose I’ll have some cake. If it’s as delicious as it was last time, then I look forward to it.”

We talk for a while longer while eating cake, Ann having more than enough pieces for the both of us. How she can eat so many sweets with no problem, I have no idea. Eventually, we part ways with Ann, Ren holding onto me the entire way home like a cute, clingy girlfriend head-over-heels in love with me. That is a mental image I never thought I would apply to my own life. I can’t help but affectionately ruffle Ren’s hair, the action earning me a jubilant grin. I truly am blessed to have both Ren and Ann in my life.

Prompt source

#akeppi writes #p5 #persona 5 #p5r #persona 5 royal #goro akechi #akechi #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #ann takamaki #akeshu #shuake #writing prompt #I HAVE CREATED SEROTONIN #happy april fools day everyone

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