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westcoastrry · 4 years ago

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Can’t Help If This Is Us

Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.

Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!

literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.

WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.

I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words

A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.

Fuck me like you wanna make love

Call me when you wanna stay in touch

Lie together just to gain trust

Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us

Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.

It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.

She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?

“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.

Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?

“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.

“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.

Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.

Only real men drink black coffee.

She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”

“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.

“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”

“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.

Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.

Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.

“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”

Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.

Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.

Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.

“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.

“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.

“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”

“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”

“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”

“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.

“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.

“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”

Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”

“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”

“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”

Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”

Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.

It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.

The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.

It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.

And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.

Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.

So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.

+++

The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.

“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”

“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”

“I believe in you! Now go!”

Knock

It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.

Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.

Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.

Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”

“You just came here to bring me flowers?”

“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.

Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.

She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.

Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.

“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”

Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.

Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.

Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.

“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”

“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”

Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.

Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”

“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.

Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.

She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.

“Kiara?”

That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.

Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.

Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”

“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Who told you that,” Harry counters.

Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.

“I thought you were into blonde models?”

“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.

“Google.”

Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”

“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”

Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.

Killing two birds with one stone.

Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.

If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.

“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”

“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.

“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”

Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”

However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.

“Kiara-”

“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”

Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.

Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.

“You want this,” Harry whispers.

“I need this,” Kiara responds back.

“Tell me what you need Kiara.”

Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.

“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.

With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.

“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”

“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.

“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.

“I can handle it.”

“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.

“Mhmm, yes please.”

Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.

“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”

“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”

“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”

Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.

“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.

Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.

“M’mmm. A little higher please?”

Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.

“Here? Is this good?”

“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.

“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”

Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.

He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.

“Stay still love.”

“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Why don’t you ask to cum?”

Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”

“You are if you wanna be good for me.”

“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”

Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”

“So what?” Harry asks her.

“Dominant.”

“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”

“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.

Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.

“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“No.”

Smack.

“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”

Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”

Smack.

The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.

It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.

“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.

“Say sorry.”

“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”

Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”

“Yes please.”

Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”

Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.

Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”

Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.

Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.

“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”

Kiara nods her head.

“Verbal consent Kiara.”

“Yes please.”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.

Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.

“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”

When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.

“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.

When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.

Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”

Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.

“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.

Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.

For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.

Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.

And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.

Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.

“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”

“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.

Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.

“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.

“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.

“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.

“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”

“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.

Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.

“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.

Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.

“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.

Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.

Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”

Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”

Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.

Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.

“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”

Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.

He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.

“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.

Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.

Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.

“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.

“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.

Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.

Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth

“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.

“I will. But let me suck you off first.”

Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.

Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.

He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.

“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”

She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.

“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”

Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.

“Yeah I can.”

“Well what are you waiting for?”

Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.

Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.

“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”

Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.

Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.

“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”

“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.

“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”

“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.

“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”

Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”

Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”

“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.

Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.

Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.

“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”

Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.

This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.

Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.

“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”

Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.

Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.

Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.

How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.

He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.

“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.

“I didn’t use a condom.”

“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.

Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”

“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”

Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.

“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”

“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”

There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.

“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”

“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”

“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”

“Water would be great.”

Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.

Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.

Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”

Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”

“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”

“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”

Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.

“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.

“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”

Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”

Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.

“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”

“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”

“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”

Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”

“What brought you to New York then?”

“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”

“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”

There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”

“I want you to stay the night.”

Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.

“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.

+++

Harry is awake before Kiara.

Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.

However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.

Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.

He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.

Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.

“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”

Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”

Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.

Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”

“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.

Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.

He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.

And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.

“I-”

Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.

“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”

Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.

Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.

The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.

“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.

Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”

“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.

“Are you mad?”

Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.

“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.

“You’re crying, Kiara.”

“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”

That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.

Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”

Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.

+++

“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.

Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.

“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.

“You're joking.”

“Nope. Pass me your purse.”

Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.

“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”

“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”

“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”

Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”

“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”

“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”

“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”

“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”

“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.

Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.

“Let me take you out drinking after work.”

Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”

+++

While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.

There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.

Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.

And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.

Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?

+++

When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).

The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).

Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.

The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”

“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.

Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”

“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”

Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”

The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.

Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”

“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”

She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.

The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.

“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.

“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”

Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.

“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”

“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”

Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”

“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”

“Yes. He works for Harry.”

Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.

“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.

“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”

Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”

“Kiara? Trina?”

Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.

He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.

“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.

Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”

“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”

Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.

“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”

“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.

Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”

“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”

“Trina please.”

It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.

Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”

Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”

“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.

“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”

“He always seems so tense.”

Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”

“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.

Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”

“What? I thought things were going great!”

“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”

“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”

“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”

“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”

Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”

“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”

Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”

“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”

“I can tell you that's not Harry.”

“Am I ready for this?”

Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”

“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”

Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.

“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”

“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”

“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.

“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.

“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”

“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”

“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.

“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”

Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”

“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”

Slap

Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.

“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.

He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”

“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”

“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”

“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.

Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.

“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”

“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”

“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”

Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.

“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.

“Dorian, you need to go.”

“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”

“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”

“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”

“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”

“You don’t want to test me boy--”

“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”

Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”

Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”

“What just happened?” Kiara questions.

“Trina just take her to the car.”

+++

The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.

“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.

Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”

“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.

“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”

“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”

Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”

+++

Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.

“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”

Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.

He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry’s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.

“Wine makes me horny.”

“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”

“Why was that guy asking you for money?”

“Asking me anything but that.”

“Okay. Did you mean it?”

Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”

“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”

Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”

Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”

“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”

“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”

Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.

“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.

“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”

“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”

“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”

“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”

“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.

“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”

“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”

Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”

“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”

Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”

“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”

“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.

“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”

Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”

Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”

“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”

Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.

Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.

He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #haryr styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #mafia!harry #harry styles mafia #harry styles x oc #harry styles x woc #harrystyles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #ha

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arsonmurderandjaywalking · 2 years ago

Note

Been wondering about all those characters in your tags 👁

sorry this took me. nearly 20 hrs to respond to.

Aelia Fallows is part of my magical girl story, which I have been very creatively calling MGS for short, serving as the mentor archetype character.

in this setting, (which is being workshopped very heavily all the time so this may change in the future) there are a number of gods, and they can choose a champion of sorts, blessing them with a fragment of their power and the typical magical girl transformation. there are three gods in particular, fire, lightning/electricity, and ice, who have an agreement (running bet of some kind? that was the original explanation for it I'm pretty sure but I can't remember what it was about. i don't know how I'm explaining it just yet) to choose their new champions at the same time every hundred years. but due to some yet-to-be-determined complete disaster that killed every single magic user caused by Selene Sterling, queen of whatever kingdom/realm I decide this takes place in, and also the love of Aelia's life. whatever the disaster was was at least in part caused by the god of death and knowledge (as in, she delivers the souls of the dead to the afterlife but not before she dissects them and extracts all of their knowledge to add to her stores) sharing something she shouldn't have with Selene and it eventually driving her mad.

Aelia was the eldest daughter of a farmer, and her younger brother Elian was chosen as the champion of the god of lightning, and then was invited to the royal castle, which is how she meets Selene.

fast forward however many years, and Aelia is about 29, and she's seen Elian and the other champions, her close friends, be ground down and spat out by the gods without a word of thanks from them, and knows that being a champion isn't all it's cracked up to be. and then Selene receives divine knowledge, and then Selene starts getting paranoid and unstable and manic and scared and it hurts to watch the woman she loves with her whole soul slip away and not be able to do anything, and then Selene causes the destruction of her entire life. and then she's watching her brother and her best friends and her entire family die, and then the castle is collapsing and Selene is still inside and Aelia wants to hate her and scream at her but she still loves her, so she finds her and she calls out to her, and Selene, hollow and horrible and lovely Selene who's become so skinny and sickly and pale in the past few months that she looks like a corpse, turns to look at her, and then the stone walls collapse on Aelia, and then she's dead.

and then she isn't. she wakes up in a pile of rubble, uninjured but clothes torn and bloody like she had been, and Selene is nowhere to be found, even beneath the rubble.

things get hazy here because I haven't decided yet whether or not that takes place in an alternate dimension or the disaster completely wiped out the existence of the kingdom but not the knowledge of the gods and champions survives and this takes place in a world with that knowledge. also did not mean for that to become actual creative writing. will probably happen again though.

so nevertheless both Aelia and Selene become immortal due to Selene begging the death god to revive her, who then ties their life spans to each other and makes them both immortal because she thinks it'll be interesting. and to be fair to her it is.

so fast forward again a thousand years, and the only people born with magic since the disaster are three 14-year-old girls (Luna, Terra, and Cecilia) that fall into Selene's (who has since deteriorated significantly and is plotting. something. i haven't decided what yet. she mostly just takes them in because they're the first people like her she's seen in a thousand years) hands quickly after awakening to their powers (except Terra who had lasted about 9 years before being recruited a couple of months before canon) and that Aelia has no idea of.

so then imagine her surprise when fire, lightning, and ice choose three new champions for the first time in a thousand years for some unspecified reason, and they're three 14-year-old brats (Arin, Helena, and Ella) with no one to guide them. and they're being so obvious that even she hears about them, despite living in a cabin in the middle of the woods and only leaving for groceries once in a blue moon.

at first, she's angry, mostly. primarily at the gods for choosing 14-year-olds with no one to guide them to fight whatever war is probably coming their way. and a little at the girls for being so obvious about it, for not comprehending the danger they're in, for reminding her of her brother and her best friends.

so she (very grumpily) decides to train them. she's still got her magic, even if the last time she used it was about 50 years ago, and she watched Elian and the others train all the time. she does not anticipate them clinging on to her like leeches and taking the (in total) over an hour trek to her cabin every day they can make it so they can annoy her until she kicks them out, rather than the required three days a week for training.

personality wise I think you can mostly extrapolate from what I wrote above, but for clarity's sake: she's a very responsible, down-to-earth, no-nonsense person. she's very pragmatic and realistic and blunt, considering she's been a recluse for the past thousand years. she has a number of issues from the disaster and chiefly among those are trust and emotional intimacy issues. she doesn't want to get close to anyone ever again, and tries to push the girls away when they cling to her, but then sees how that's hurting them and exacerbating the trust issues all three of them have and starts making an effort to reach out to them. she's not the perfect mentor/surrogate mother figure but she is trying. all of this is not to undersell the fact that she is a complete mess. before the girls she was completely overtaken by her depression and melancholy and general dysfunction. also I'm not sure where to put this but she has rock magic

she's really tall, like 6'2, and really buff. she's a farmer's daughter and it shows. she has tan-ish skin, though it's a lot ashier since being revived, and messy brown hair. back when she took care of herself she wore it short, a bit past her chin, but now a days it's about to her mid back, though she ties it back whenever she needs to do something. originally she had brown eyes, but after she was revived they turned grey (a trait she shares with Selene). she's constantly tired, and has really heavy eye bags. she wears plain work clothes. old white button-down, jeans and a pair of black work boots, all very worn. she also has this large jacket sort of thing. in my mind it looks like a cross between a jacket and a poncho. it's a light brown color.

#this is a lot more organized than the last one bcs I have a lot more for #this ocverse than veronica and harlow #Aelia Fallows #fun fact i only came up with her last name and Elians name literal days ago #and as i was retagging all the posts I had w aelia #instead of learning how to use the mass post editor I decided to manually retag all 17 posts #also hi plant. sorry i am so fucking VERBOSE

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alltooreid · 4 years ago

Text

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

In order to keep Y/N safe from danger, Spencer vows to keep their relationship a complete secret from everyone they know. However, as their romance gets more serious, Y/N and Reid begin to realize that no matter how in love they are, they may have been doomed from the start.

A/N: Back at it with a hopefully very angsty fic! This is of course inspired by the Taylor Swift song, but you don’t need to be familiar with the song to read and enjoy! Also I made a playlist for this one shot, which you can find here (its best if you listen to it in order and of course you don’t have to listen as you read, but if you enjoy that kind of thing, I thought it would be fun). Additionally, in order for the timeline of this fic to make the most sense, I’m choosing to ignore the Lauren Reynolds subplot, because trying to incorporate it and explain it would be distracting and unnecessary in my opinion. Thanks for reading!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Type: Angst

Word Count: 3.9K

Content Warnings: Some cursing, general fighting angst, discussion of pregnancy, brief mention of abortion (follow up is left intentionally ambiguous, based on your own desires and beliefs you are allowed to decide where that aspect goes (pro choice tings))

“I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche?”

Spencer Reid hated funerals.

Somehow he felt he was always invited to one, and no matter how hard it was for him to be there, he always made every effort to go. So when Hotch had to plan Haley’s funeral, Spencer knew he had to go, no matter how much he would hate it.

He looked down to the grass as his supervisor cried over his now dead wife, the most emotion he had seen from him ever. He refused to look up and watch, although there were at least a hundred people there to mourn Haley, this moment felt innately private to Hotch. Spencer didn’t think it was his place for his eyes to intrude.

So he stared at the lawn and got lost in his own mind.

Right then and there he realized he never wanted to go through what Hotch had to go through. No matter how many philosophers described love in the most beautiful, enchanting way, Spencer didn’t want it anymore.

He didn’t want to go through a heartbreak, because how worth it could it be?

Of course, all information he had in his repertoire pointed to the claim that it was worth it. Yet he couldn’t pay attention to Oscar Wilde, trying to tell him that “hearts are made to be broken,” or E. A. Bucchianeri screaming that “grief is the price we pay for love.”

All he could see at that moment was the most stone-faced man he had ever known, breaking down in front of everyone he knew over the woman he loved.

At that moment Spencer Reid vowed to completely give up on love. He would become the best profiler to ever live. People would compare him to Jason Gideon, but Spencer Reid would win every time. Spencer wouldn’t let himself be like Gideon and get so hung up over a person that he couldn’t ever work anymore.

So when Spencer left the funeral and went to bed that night, he was confident that he would sleep alone like that forever. It was comfortable like that and he was happy. Who needs to be in love?

Not Spencer Reid that’s for sure.

Well, until three months later, when Spencer Reid met Y/N Y/L/N.

She was beautiful, and Spencer knew he wanted to get to know her the first time he laid eyes on her.

But he was doing such a good job recently…. Even Hotch was impressed with his work ethic. The only one who had talked to him about his lack of emotion was Penelope, she seemed concerned when Spencer told her he didn’t want to meet let alone go on a date with the cute nerdy barista from her go to coffee shop. Spencer refused to reason with her, he was too focused on proving himself to Hotch and the rest of the team.

Even though in the back of his mind, Spencer knew he had already proven himself to the rest of the team, now he just needed to be good enough for himself.

A truly impossible task.

But he was still trying to do it, so he didn’t talk to the barista at the new coffee shop he was trying.

He wasn’t expecting her to try and talk to him. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to give up his own reasoning.

“That’s a lot of sugar, sugar. Are you as sweet as your coffee?” she said, giggling as she did it. She knew the line was cheesy and stupid but she had been eyeing Spencer Reid since he came in and knew she needed to get his attention. Luckily, he couldn’t help but laugh.

Their first date was right then and there. They got distracted and talked till closing, Y/N’s coworkers noticing she was actually putting herself out there and deciding to pick up her slack so she could continue.

“So are you going to call me Dr. Reid or were you just leading me on for 3 hours?”

“Of course I’ll call you, how else am I going to get you to watch Doctor Who?”

Y/N smiled, “Well I know this is kind of forward, but I have this art exhibit tomorrow, I would love to see you there. But don’t over think that! I’ve invited pretty much everyone I know. I have a bet to win amongst the other art students, whoever has the most people come to see them wins one of those giant Costco sheet cakes. I need that sheet cake Spencer.”

Spencer smiled, “Well, I am from Vegas . . . Maybe I could help push the odds in your favor.”

“Well I can’t wait to see you there. Tomorrow, 6 pm, I’ll text you the details.”

It was only when he laid down to sleep that Spencer remembered his philosophy on love, but strangely, he did not care.

He may have been trying to freeze his heart, but Y/N was coming in with a blowtorch.

And he didn’t mind. In fact he unlocked the door to let her in.

So when he arrived at work the next morning, he fully intended on going to her art show. He thought about what flowers to bring her. . . was this a date? Was last night a date? Were roses too strong a message? He couldn’t do anything red, it was too forward. Pink? What if she saw it as stereotypical because she’s a woman, maybe she hates pink?! Yellow Tulips were safe, but if he got her yellow tulips then she would think they were just friends and Spencer didn’t want to be just friends.

His internal debate was interrupted by none other than Penelope Garcia, but not to interrupt their paperwork day with a case, but to make an announcement to the bullpen.

“Hello my loves! I have an interesting idea for some team bonding tonight, my favorite barista and dear friend has invited me to her school art show. Of course she needs the most support humanly possible, so you all need to come with me and look at cool art!”

“Who’s this friend of yours Penelope?” JJ asked.

“Oh Jayge you’ve met Y/N! She’s lovely and I’m sure an incredible artist. You guys will all love her!”

Suddenly Spencer remembered Hotch and his broken down faces at Haley’s funeral. He remembered his philosophy on love and his fear of heartbreak.

But he also remembered how alive he felt with Y/N. How the way she laughed like a little kid and how that made him feel giddy. He remembered how she was always so interested in what he had to say. He remembered that he really liked her.

And at that moment, Spencer realized that he did not have to choose between being in love and keeping his heart safe from the devastating heartbreak of seeing his true love die. He realized that the reaper could only find Haley because Hotch let people know they were together Because everyone knew of Hotch’s wife, she was in constant danger.

Maybe if he kept Y/N secret he could still be with her.

“Spencer! Did you hear me?”

“No, um sorry Garcia what did you say?”

“I asked if you were going to come to Y/N’s art show, you know you too would make such a cute couple! You should totally come.”

“I actually can’t, I’m not feeling well.”

She sighed, “That’s what you said last time I tried to get you two together 187 . . . Do you want to talk about anything Spencer? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“I’m fine, I just have a headache. I don’t want to go out tonight.”

She rested her hand on his shoulder for a second, before following Morgan to the kitchen. Spencer knew she was going to say something to him, but he didn’t care. He had found the perfect solution to his conundrum.

And he knew exactly what flowers to send to Y/N.

Y/N texted him thirteen times, and waited an extra hour after the open house closed in case he showed. So although she went home empty handed, one person away from enough cake to feed fifty, she received a call from Spencer Reid.

“Hey, where were you tonight? I was looking forward to seeing you.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, something came up, but I have something for you! Are you still there?”

“Oh no, I just got to my apartment. I can send you the address.”

“I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

And five minutes later Spencer was at Y/N’s door, with Chinese take out and white peonies, a flower known for its apologetic symbolism.

Y/N blushed, “You didn’t have to bring me flowers Spencer . . .”

“Well I wanted to bring some to your show, but I figured this could be the next best thing . . . And maybe we could eat some of your Costco sheet cake afterwards. Sounds like a balanced meal to me.”

“Although I love that idea, I unfortunately came home tonight sheet cake-less.”

Reid frowned, “How close were you? Would I have made any difference?”

“Oh no!” Y/N lied, “I was way off, don’t even worry about it.” She smiled, “I’m just excited that you're here right now.”

Spencer blushed and looked down at his feet, “Well I’m excited to be here.”

Four months after that night, Y/N asked Spencer a seemingly stupid question while they were eating take out at her apartment. “Spencer, I love takeout and all but we haven’t gone out in public together since the first time we met. . . Call me stupid but I’m starting to wonder if you don’t want to be seen with me.”

Spencer sighed, “Y/N, it’s not that it’s just . . . complicated.”

“I just don’t get it. Am I the second woman or something?”

“No! Absolutely not! You are my one and only flower,” he said, smiling and then leaning in to kiss her nose. She giggled in response, but quickly remembered the serious nature of their conversation. “Y/N, you know what I do for a living.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”

“Not too long ago, my boss was targeted by a serial killer who made it his mission to make his life miserable. In doing so he killed his wife. I just . . . I don’t want that to happen to you Y/N. I think I’m falling in love with you, and I can’t put you through that.”

“Spencer . . . I love you too.”

So no matter how badly Y/N wanted to tell her family, or update her Facebook status, she respected Spencer, and although she didn’t completely understand his concerns, she wanted him to be happy.

So she spent ten more months like that, catering to Spencer Reid’s peace of mind. Pretending to smile as he told her stories of all the funny things his team members did, all about their partners, and their love lives.

A couple times now, Y/N asked Spencer if she could meet them, but Spencer always shot it down. When he first mentioned the idea of keeping their relationship a secret, Y/N had secretly hoped it would be one of those things that was forgotten about within a week or two. But no. It had been many, many weeks, and Spencer still didn’t want to be seen in public with her.

And by now that was all she wanted. To go on a real date, to introduce him to her friends, to actually be able to tell her coworkers that something did come from that guy she hit it off with.

Everyday, Y/N felt she did the same exact thing, she went to work, would come home and if Spencer was still in Quantico, she would convince him to come over. (They had been dating for over a year now, and Y/N had never been to his apartment. She didn’t even know where it was). If Spencer did come over, he would usually bring some kind of dessert with him, and they would talk and be merry in their own little secret oasis. A couple weeks ago, Y/N started to get this uncomfortable, uneasy feeling that encompassed her whole body, her whole being. Every part of her was trying to tell her that Spencer Reid was not the man for her. And even though she was still very much in love with him, she agreed.

Although she loved Spencer for the person he was, the man who brought her every different flavor of cheesecake from the bakery across town (one a day for fifty nine days straight), the man who begged her to make him a painting for valentines day instead of buying him a present, the man who cried when she did and laughed when she did and-

There were a lot of things to love about Spencer Reid, but there were a lot of things to hate about their relationship.

She hated the time she bought a gold locket in the shape of a heart, and put a picture of them in it so she could keep him with her all day long, and he made her return it because it could fly open and someone could recognize him. She hated the day she came home with a little beige kitten named Betsy and Spencer made her give Betsy to her sister so that he wouldn’t get cat hair on his clothes and have to answer a million questions. She hated the time Spencer missed her birthday weekend because he had a case and couldn’t give an excuse to why he couldn’t go. She hated that Spencer was her entire life, while she seemed like just an inconvenience to his.

And most of all, she hated that she loved him so much. Because deep down she knew that she could never leave Spencer Reid, but she also knew that there was no way they could last if nothing changed.

Just then Spencer knocked on her door, she had offered him his own key many times, but he declined because he didn’t want anyone to see it on his key ring and ask what it was for. She let him in, and right away his fun perky smile dropped. “You’ve been crying. I can tell.”

“Is that the kind of thing they teach you in FBI school?”

“Yes actually, but that’s not the point,” he said, dropping his bouquet of red chrysanthemums on Y/N’s coffee table and grabbing one of her hands with both of his. “Talk to me Y/N.”

She sighed, “I love you Spencer, but I just don’t know if we can do this anymore.”

“What do you mean flower?”

“Spencer we’ve been together for over a year-”

“One year, two months and five days,” he corrected.

“Yes, yes that. We’ve been together for one year, two months and five days but no one except us knows that.”

“Y/N I thought you were okay with that, I just want you to be safe.”

“I thought I was okay with it but,” she paused, afraid of what she wanted to say, “I’m not Spencer, I don’t want to live like this anymore. I love you, and I want to be with you. To really be with you. What happens if we ever get married, do we have to get eloped, would you even let us get married because you need someone else to watch? When do I get to tell my mom I’m in a relationship? What if you get hurt out in the field, and no one has heard of me, let alone knows to call me, and we never get to say goodbye? How far do you plan on taking this?”

Spencer grew flustered, “Um, I- I don’t know? I didn’t know you were even thinking about those things.”

“Do you think about those things? Things like getting married?”

“You’re the love of my life Y/N, of course I do.”

“Well then something needs to change. We can’t live like this anymore.”

“Things will get better Y/N, I promise you, we’ll start small but I’m going to make this better for you. Actually, um we can start right now,” he started digging through his messenger bag. After a minute, he pulled out a smaller gold heart locket than the one you had originally purchased for yourself. “I, um I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but I feel like now is the best time. I couldn’t find the same one, but it’s the same picture inside.”

She teared up, “I love it. It’s perfect. Here, put it on me.” She turned around and pushed her hair to one side so that Spencer could clasp the delicate chain around her neck.

They kissed, and afterward Spencer spoke, “I hate to ruin this moment, but I’ve had to use the bathroom ever since I got here.”

Y/N laughed, “Ok go, I’ll be waiting.”

While waiting for her love to come back, Y/N admired her flowers. Ever since Spencer began to get her different flowers to symbolize different things she had developed an abnormal botany fascination. She would always beat Spencer to explaining the symbolism of her latest bouquet, so she already knew the red chrysanthemum was a symbol of prosperous, passionate love in most countries. However she also knew that in Italy, chrysanthemums were a death flower, given only at funerals.

Part of her couldn’t help but wonder if some unconscious part of Spencer’s genius brain was beginning to feel the same way she did. Three weeks later nothing much had changed in the state of Y/N and Spencer’s romance. She was still unheard of in the eyes of the BAU and two nights prior Spencer had stopped her from calling her mother to tell her about him.

And then Y/N discovered her sick, uneasy, all over body feeling was not just her incredible intuition.

She was pregnant.

She had taken a couple of tests a while prior and could just now get into the doctor to get it confirmed. But it was official. She was pregnant.

As soon as the nurse confirmed it she broke down crying. And when she asked her a couple more questions, she broke down even further. “Are you currently in a relationship?”

“No,” she sniffed.

“Do you know who the father is?”

“I don’t know,” she sobbed.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know where you want to go from here, but there’s a lot more options that you may think. Everything will be okay.”

Y/N still cried the whole way home.

She spent the rest of the day thinking about how to tell Spencer, and then overthinking what he would say.

She knew Spencer loved children, but he couldn’t even manage to tell people she existed, how was he going to explain a long term relationship and a baby?

It would have taken decades for Y/N to prepare to deliver this news, but Spencer showed up at 8:19 pm.

“Hi flower! How are you today?”

“I’m pregnant.” She blurted out, she was not planning to do it exactly like that, but she panicked.

“What?”

“I’m pregnant Spencer.”

He sighed and ran one of his hands through his hair, “You could get an abortion?”

Y/N lost it. “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me Spencer?”

“I don’t think a baby is going to be very easy to keep a secret Y/N.”

“Is this how far you’re willing to go Spencer? You want to keep me hidden so bad that you want me to get an abortion? Are you insane?”

“You’re right, Y/N, I’m sorry, we’ll figure something out.”

“No, you’re wrong there Spencer. I’ll figure something out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. I love you but, please just get out of my apartment.”

“Y/N please don’t do this, I love you, we can make this work. I know I haven’t been doing the best job for these three weeks, but just give me a little time and I promise we can do this.”

Y/N wiped tears from her eyes, then reached her thumb up to Spencer’s face, wiping his cheek. “Spencer, it’s not a matter of how much I love you or you love me. Sometimes, things just aren’t made to work out. We gave it a good run, but no matter how hard we love each other, I don’t think either of us is happy.”

“But I don’t know how to live in a world without you in it, flower.”

“I’ve never been in your world Spencer, after tonight, nothing in your life will drastically change. You don’t have to worry about living in a universe without me because you’ve already been doing that for 15 months.”

“Please don’t do this, can we just give it another try?”

Y/N wrapped her arms around him, “That’s all we’ve been doing.”

The couple stayed in silence like that for a couple of minutes before Spencer spoke. “Can we just stay here for one night. I can’t believe I never got to do it.” Spencer had never spent the full night at Y/N’s place because he always worried that he would forget to answer his phone and the team would try to come to his apartment to tell him they had a case.

“You know we can’t do that Spencer,” she sighed, knowing she had to stay strong and act on her own best interest, but she also loved Spencer. “But you can stay here, if you want.”

He thought for a moment. “Okay, um do I need that key you always offered me? To lock up when I leave?”

“No, the front door locks automatically when you close it, you just have to make sure you have everything before you go.”

And so Spencer slept in Y/N’s bed, for the first time, without her in it.

And Y/N called the one person she knew Spencer would never try to track her down to to avoid exposing himself.

Penelope Garcia.

She of course let Y/N stay with her for the night, and although she would eventually, Garcia did not pry when Y/N said she didn’t want to talk about what was going on. So Y/N walked to her apartment with peace of mind, she knew that although she had a lot to think about, for the time being everything was going to be just fine.

On the way to Penelope’s apartment, Y/N saw a flower vendor. She couldn’t help but stop by and pick up a bouquet for Penelope, but more so for the symbolic meaning.

Daffodils and daisies.

The flowers of new beginnings.

“I'd kiss you as the lights went out Swaying as the room burned down I'd hold you as the water rushes in If I could dance with you again”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

holly’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy

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sweetstarling · 4 years ago

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Obey me - Valentines Day Headcanons

Happy Valentines Day, Lovelies! I hope you had a wonderful day, As a gift to you from me, here are some Valentine’s Day Headcanons of all the characters!

Warning: Fluff/ A bit of NSFW

————————————————————————

.~𝕯𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖇𝖇𝖎𝖙 𝕳𝖔𝖑𝖊 𝖂𝖊 𝕲𝖔~

Lucifer:

🌹Prepares in advance: finishes any paperwork the day before, makes special reservations as well as try’s to keep everything in order in the house otherwise he’ll just steal you away after breakfast.

🌹This demon loves you more then anything, he’ll make sure to leave you roses and a card by your bed while you’re asleep, the roses a blood red (Love & Respect).

🌹He’ll tell you during breakfast about his reservations, the whole restaurant to yourselves as he wants nothing more then to be alone with you.

🌹He’s a gentleman, loving anything you gift him as it came from you.

🌹Will make sure you spend the night with him, making sure the time he spends with you at night is more gentle and sensual then normally. Keeping you close and comfortable as if he was afraid you would disappear.

.𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖎𝖒𝖕𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝕱𝖊..

The lights from the chandelier luminated his features, his eyes glowing crimson not leaving his gaze from you. A small smile caressed his lips, a rare sight for the other; He made sure the building was empty, the only people occupying it were you two and the workers. A calm atmosphere, light classical music danced in the background as to Lucifers wishes.

Stay always by my side

Mammon:

✨Oh lord Diavolo, please have mercy on him. He tried to make you breakfast in bed, he even tried multiple times since 6am but it didn’t turn out very well.

✨Decided to leave you a card, with some hearts drawn in them with a small pack of expensive chocolates, a gold (Love & Compassion/Excesses) ribbon tied into a bow on it.

✨Will take you out for a walk in the park if the weathers right just to keep you away from his brothers, will definitely get ice cream for the both of you.

✨When you finally get back after an hour or so, he drags you into his room for a movie night, letting you pick the movie as he gets pizza for the both of you to eat whilst watching.

✨When you gift him something, he looks like he’s going to burst from happiness no matter how small the gift. He holds you tight at night, cuddling, just being thankful you’re with him.

..........𝕴 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖇𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖚𝖒𝖆𝖓...........

The day was cool as the breeze crisp, you sat down on the bench the wind a calm whisper as Mammon sat down by you. Handing you your ice cream gently as he made himself comfortable, a light sigh left him as he took off his glasses not really bothering with them; His face held a bright glow to them as he couldn’t help himself but keep all your attention on him.

I want you to always be happy.

Leviathan:

☘️Likely had a reminder on his phone to go to sleep the night before just so he can spend the day playing and binge watching anime with you without being tired.

☘️Probably ends up over sleeping slightly from his lack of sleep but makes sure to hand you your gift at the breakfast table: A brand new manga that the main character reminded him of you with a couple of orange roses (Fasination & Enthusiasm)

☘️Takes you to his room after breakfast to play a few games, deliberately going easier on you at times so you win as he enjoys how happy you seem.

☘️Feels blessed to receive a gift from you as he still tends to feel inferior, you giving him a gift means a lot to him.

☘️You spend time in his bathtub, a few pillows and a blanket to keep you warm. Him surprising you with a few kisses as well as an anime playing in the background, a plate of different treats beside you.

.......................𝕴 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚, 𝕸𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖞......................

You stood by the large aquarium, the colours of the tv screen being illuminated onto the glass. Your gaze following the fish swim peacefully as you waited for Levi to return, a few footsteps echoed behind you then warm hands wrapped themselves around you waist. The hot breath of the third born warming your neck, his ocean eyes calm as a smile graces his lips.

You really came, my Henry

Satan:

🥀Has cooking duty that day which leads him to making your breakfast extra special, the food being catered to your favourite flavours.

🥀By your plate lays a single red rose,(‘You’re still the one’) as well as an emerald wrapped book layer beside it, the book being one of his favourites that he knew you would enjoy.

🥀He decides to go out with you to a simple but beautiful place, a cat cafe near by, a warm place filled with cats as you two enjoy a drink and a few of your favourite treats.

🥀Takes whatever you gift him with a smile of gratitude, his heart swelling with joy as he put the gift away to enjoy later.

🥀Decides to take a detour round a beautiful park filled with flowers before heading home, As at home he sat down on the bed with you calmly reading to you until you fall asleep.

................𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖊𝖆𝖇 𝖘𝖔 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊..............

The warmth of the room put you at ease as you lay in bed, the sound of Satan’s voice entering your ears like a sweet lullaby intending to put you to sleep. His voice barely above a whisper reading both to you and himself, the noise of him turning the pages were barely heard but brought comfort a noise of familiarity as you fell asleep.

May we always celebrate like this

Asmodeus:

💋He needs his beauty sleep and expects you to have yours too but that doesn’t mean he won’t leave a sparkly pink bag infront of your door in the morning: A cute personalised card with a picture of the both of you and a perfume he thought would suit you.

💋A nice light breakfast he’s prepared for the both of you in his room before a whole day ahead of you; A bit of badminton to keep the day fresh before lord of self care.

💋A warm hot in for the both of you as you lounge around enjoying a light conversation, the lights a cool shade as you enjoyed your time

💋A light but delicious dinner before heading back home, a few hundred photos being taken together on the way back some posted others for his eyes only.

💋You get welcomed into his room, pink (Appreciation and gratitude) rose petals scattering the floor leading into the grande bed and open invitation as Asmo wanted nothing more but to show you your worth.

......𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖐𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊, 𝖉��𝖆𝖗?.......

The warm water splashed onto you as Asmo carefully dipped into the water his eyes never leaving your form, a look of joy bloomed in his eyes as he settled and relaxed. The warmth of the water releasing any tension in your muscles, the air cool around you as the other smiled bringing himself to talk about any latest gossip

You’re so cute when you blush

Beelzebub:

🌼Decides to make breakfast for you and it turns out great too, he doesn’t get up too early leaving you enough time to get ready before eating with him.

🌼Decides to gift you some chocolates and light pink roses (Admiration & Sweetness). He loves the idea of getting to spend the whole days with you and plans to bake as well getting plenty of engrediants in advance.

🌼The baking turns into a mess quite quickly with flower everywhere, you two snacking on extra ingredients and just making a mess of the kitchen but the baked goods turn out great which leaves you to enjoy some treats and leave some for Belphie when he gets up.

🌼Decides to go into town with you to eat at a restaurant, him choosing a quiter more reserved place for the two of you so you’re both comfortable.

🌼Wants nothing more then to hug you tight at night, your warmth a constant reminder you’re by his side.

..............𝕴𝖒 𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖉 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖌𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘..............

The soft fluffy whitness ambushed the whole kitchen not sparing you or Beel in the process, leaving everything to look like a winter wonderland. You laughed holding back a cough from all the flour on you as Beel took another piece of chocolate handing it to you as you both waited for the baked goods to be ready; His eyes glowing as he met your gaze.

You’ll never leave me, right?

Belphegor:

🌙Gets up, the tiredness still evident in his eyes as he headed to breakfast, your gift in his hands as he gave it you infront of the others: some warm blue pyjamas (trust &sensitivity) with a small card.

🌙takes you to the attic after breakfast, the place seemingly filled with more pillows and blankets. The place perfect for napping especially on such a day when he gets to steal you away.

🌙Spens quite a bit of time with you building a large pillow fort, blankets above you and fluffy pillows serving as walls. Belphie taking this as the perfect time to tickle you before settling back down to nap with you.

🌙Wants nothing more then to eat dinner with you in peace besides the company of Beel who’s great at cooking, the three of you eating in the twins room, the food seemingly twice as good as you were together.

🌙Decides to go stargazing with you, a blanket and pillow at hand for the both of you to be comfortable, the night sky illuminating his happiness.

.......𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖘 𝖜𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖓𝖆𝖕 𝖙𝖔𝖌𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗.......

You layed on the floor, a multiple blankets masked the carpet as you lay surrounded by an army of pillows of all colours and textures. The face of a particularly sleep demon lay beside you, his soft arms wrapping around you bringing you close. Him singing you to sleep quietly as you couldn’t help but smile.

You shine brighter then any star

Diavolo:

👑This Prince has a lot of ideas for what you two should do but not enough time for all of them, one things for sure that he invites you to the castle for breakfast then moves on from there.

👑Expect to walk into a room with just you and the Prince, even the watchful eyes of the devoted butler not being present. The table filled with all kinds of food to choose from, rose petals scattered on the table all following some kind of pattern.

👑The Prince gifting your the tradition red rose bouquet with a beautiful card and a box of chocolates, all of it placed nicely in a basket with a gold bow.

👑The Prince being desperate to be by your side the whole day, even letting you wear his crown for the day as his lust for information about the human world showed. Constant questions while you settled down to play chess.

👑The prince encouraged you to stay the night, the master bedroom occupying a large bed for the both of you; As he laid down cuddling you, he continued to talk to you regardless if you listened or not.

...............𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖙 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚............

The prince sighed, considering his next move carefully, his eyes glimmered as he moved the pawn.Leaving you to decide your next move, The room was dimly lit but just enough light for you to see his the concentration on his face before a light chuckle left him, the breeze from the slightly open window playing with his hair.

Enjoying yourself, Are you?

Barbatos:

🍃The best at preparing everything for the special day, yet making sure not to try too hard as it’s meant to be a day that you both enjoy. He’s prepared a calm breakfast for the both of you with a bit of everything to try as well as some special brewed tea.

🍃This butler makes sure to spend all his time with you today that he might not be able to spend another day. His room is where you spend of the day, a small gift lay on his desk for you, a charm that reminded him of you alongside a lavender rose (Love at first sight).

🍃You spend the day taking a walk around the castle gardens, all the flowers just starting to bloom as well as a few activities at hand in his room.

🍃Dinner comes sooner then you expect, all of it made with adoration towards you, the food simple but luscious an ethereal flavour to them.

🍃Ends the day with you two falling asleep in each other’s arms, both deserving the rest in the silent room.

....𝕴'𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖘 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖘 𝖎 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚...

A soft breeze played around leaving the warmth of the day to caress your skin, the heat from a hand in yours guiding you around the wonderland of flowers. A colourful atmosphere as you both truly felt at peace; The butler going at a slow pace for the both of you to relax and by all means not hurry.

You don’t mind if I steal you away?

Simeon:

❄️This Angel wants nothing more then to show his love to you in a way that praises you throughout. Meets you by the House Of Lamentation to go to a cafe for breakfast, the fresh smell of food surrounding the place.

❄️Gifts you a bouquet of red and white roses (Unity, Love, Innocence), the roses seem to glow when handed towards you a small smile gracing his lips.

❄️Plans going to the cinema with you, a movie that you both are sure to enjoy play as you shared some treats through out the movie, the place almost empty as you two enjoyed.

❄️Gifts you an Angel charm so that he can always be by your side no matter how far apart; The gift being delicacy wrapped in blue wrapping paper as he gifted it to you in his room.

❄️The night was spent with him giving you gentle kisses, and stories from his past that seemed humorous.

.............𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘, 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖇............

The screen lightened up, the colourful images reflecting in both your eyes; A calm atmosphere surrounded the room with very few others leaving the two of you to enjoy the moment. The sound from the movie drained out from your mind as you left the warmth from Simeons hand caress your own holding lightly, a smile on his face as he continued to watch the film.

You’re ethereal in my eyes

Solomon:

🕊He plans the day carefully but decides not to warn you in advance; Leaving purgatory hall to visit you at the House Of Lametation with a gift at hand.

🕊He means well ignoring the brothers judgemental gazes as he gifted you a red rose and a photo book, It was filled with different kinds of memories both in Devildom and the human world.

🕊He guides you away from home and instead to take a trip to the human world, Decides to take you on a picnic in a field filled with daisys (innocence & purity).

🕊Enjoying the calmness of the picnic, he teaches you about magic and how he learned it though he never specifys how old he truly is he has many tales to tell.

🕊Returning back to purgatory hall, he invites you to spend the night with him, the room seemingly prepared as everything was organised and the bed flourished in more pillows then before.

....................𝕷𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚..................

The sun shone brightly, a clear sky above as there was only a simple breeze accompanying the both of you. A large basket lay on the blanket with multiple treats to share and a few spells to show and learn from the excited wizard; his voice continuesly being heard as he moved onto another memory of his own.

You showed me no bounds

211 notes · View notes

whatifxwereyou · 4 years ago

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 17: Blackout

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Oh no, you made things complicated. Lol. I'm having more fun writing Kung Lao than should be allowed. Hopefully you guys enjoy! And yes, I know this is tropey but I also don't care LOL, it's a fun trope.

Part 16 Part 18 Chapter Index

The hotel was surprisingly crowded. You weren’t sure what you’d expected but you hadn’t expected it to be bustling with tourists. There was a festival happening, you should have expected this. A bit outdated, the hotel was still clean and inviting. A welcome reprieve from the stone walls of Raiden’s Temple. You’d arrived early and still had to wait in line. Raiden had ‘transported’ you there which had been a wild experience in and of itself. You’d walked into a bolt of lightning and had come out in a quiet alley unseen.

It had been so long since you’d walked amongst the average civilian that it felt straight up bizarre to be walking along the streets of the modest city, especially in your hanfu. It was all you’d had, after all. No one looked at you twice other than to greet you politely. Most of the other folks staying at the hotel for the festival were couples on a romantic getaway which had made it instantly weird to be waiting in line with Kung Lao to check into your respective rooms.

Thankfully, the line moved quickly and once you’d checked in, you dropped off the few belongings you’d brought with you. The room was tiny with a single bed, a desk taking up nearly the rest of the room. Atop the desk was a television and beneath that was an old, ancient mini fridge. It would do well enough. This was the most technology you’d seen in weeks. Afterwards, you’d found Kung Lao and told him that you would meet him in an hour. You’d made note of a clothing store down the road and wanted to see if there was anything worth buying.

He, of course, decided to join you. No one trusted you alone anymore. He didn’t say it like that, but you knew that Raiden had told both him and Liu to keep an eye on you. You felt like a ticking time bomb.

Once at the shop you were disappointed to find that it sold mostly yukatas and kimonos. You supposed it was better than the flowy hanfu. At least you could pick out something that would be your own rather than something that had been handed to you.

Boy, you missed the internet.

You picked out a few pieces that you could work with a bit easier. Most of the hanfu were dresses or long flowy robes. Here you’d been able to find a few women’s kimonos that had hakama pants as an option. You had never been so excited to see pants in your life. You didn’t need the whole kimono, just the pants. Some constricted around the ankles while others were left open. You grabbed both and were extremely pleased.

“Sometimes, you’re a very simple woman.” Kung Lao had patted you on the back when you’d showed him the pants in excitement. You had to agree. In that moment you were very simple. Pants had brought you joy. You’d wandered away from him after that to find a few tops, belts, and jackets. Thankfully, you’d had your wallet on you when this had all begun so you had some money on you. In Raiden’s Temple, money hadn’t been necessary, so you were happy to spend it on the few things you did need.

They weren’t jeans and a t-shirt or even cute dresses, but it felt like a step in the right direction toward feeling like yourself again. You hadn’t realized how much it had bothered you until then.

Kung Lao had purchased just enough for the day in flattering red and black. That seemed to be his aesthetic though you could picture him in blues too for some reason. Then you made your way back to the hotel and to your rooms on the top floor. You had gotten rooms next to each other. You went to get changed and were happy with what you saw even in the half mirror on the desk. You stood on the bed to get a better look. Black hakama pants and a grayish-lavender and black top with a white sash tied around your middle. You then pulled your hair back in a ponytail and admired yourself in the mirror. Even though your hair was a mess you looked much more like yourself.

Your white roots had grown out a couple of inches now. It didn’t look bad, but it definitely didn’t look like it was on purpose either.

Oh well! You jumped off the bed and then left the room to find Kung Lao waiting for you, leaned against the wall next to your door. He had one foot propped against the wall, arms folded across his chest, hat obscuring his face as it often did. The clothing he’d bought wasn’t too terribly different from what he usually wore with the notable exception that he had sleeves which was truly a shame. He tilted his head up just enough to greet you before stepping away from the wall. You hadn’t left him waiting that long and yet he acted as though he’d been there for ages.

You noticed the jade ring from his usual outfit was woven into his outfit with the sash around his waist laced through it. It was kind of sweet that he always seemed to have it on him.

“Is that significant in some way? Special?” You asked, gesturing to the ring. He looked down at the ring in surprise and then nodded down the hall. You walked slowly through the hotel toward the stairwell.

“It’s a relic from my ancestor, the Great Kung Lao.”

“Oh, wow. About that, though… I’ve heard people mention him, but I had never heard the name before you. I know that he’s of some importance which has made you important…”

“I am incredibly important, thank you.”

“Yes, very. Keep talking.”

“He was the first champion of Mortal Kombat who had come from the Shaolin Order of Light. He defeated Shang Tsung and won the tournament.” Kung Lao seemed as though he had told this story a hundred times but was still proud to tell it. It was oddly sweet. “He was champion of Earthrealm for fifty years before the tournament was corrupted and he was killed. Even so, he is held in great reverence. He was a remarkable warrior.”

“Is that why you have a dragon mark?”

“Yes, that is why I have the mark. It’s also why I was sent away so young. I’d already been training long before I’d met you. When I left it was because it was time for me to go live at the temple.”

You stopped walking before the stairs and he stopped just in front of you and turned to face you. “Then why were you so bad when we would pretend to fight?”

“I held back. I wanted you to have fun too. Besides, it felt nice to be normal back then.” He laughed and you caught up to him and started down the stairs. “I was thinking that we should come up with a story as to why we’re here.”

“Should we?”

“Obviously. We need a reason to be here.”

“Other than the reason we actually have?”

“And when a bunch of strangers ask you why we’re here, are you going to tell them the real reason we’re here?”

“Point taken.”

“We need a cover.”

“Do we really though? I don’t remember ever having to justify my actions that intensely to strangers before. We can just be visiting.” You jumped down the last two stairs to the landing between flights. Pants felt great. Kung Lao seemed to either be overthinking your trip or grasping at straws to get to some end point. Or he was going to cause trouble. You would never forget the look that both Raiden and Liu had given him on their way out.

“I’ve been asked three times what brings me to Mount Osore during the festival. I came up with a lie on the spot but I’m no terribly proud of it or anything.”

“And what is this lie you came up with?”

“I said I was here on a date. Everyone else seems to be here on a date, so it was the first thing that jumped to mind.”

You rolled your eyes at him and he laughed in surprise, waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You caught up to him. “Really, Kung Lao?”

“What? It’s the first thing I could think of! The people asking me were on a date and so I stuttered that I was too.”

“Kung Lao, no.”

“Come on, Y/N.”

“Can’t we just say we’re visiting and that it’s no one’s business?” You walked into the lobby and he hurried in front of you and took your hands, clasping them between his. You sighed. “Would you…” The lobby was very crowded.

“I hate you so much right now.”

“Would you,” he continued, talking over you, “do me the honor of going on a cute little pretend date with me so that we can sneak into an ancient Buddhist Temple built within the caldera of a volcano so that we can uncover an ancient and possibly cursed artifact together?” You stared at him in disbelief, but it was taking every ounce of your energy not to burst into laughter. He was such a dork. “I will get down on my knees and ask you again if you don’t answer me.” He got down on his knees and you broke. Laughing, you pulled your hands free, grabbed his arms and tugged.

“Oh my god, get up, Kung Lao.”

“It’s a great cover, Y/N.”

“It is an exactly okay cover. But fine. I haven’t done something terribly embarrassing in a while, so I guess I’m overdue for this.” You agreed at least. He was right. It was a good cover considering this whole place was filled with couples. Besides, if it got Kung Lao to drop the subject then you would be happy to agree. The whole display had made your cheeks burn.

“Embarrassing, huh? Come on, Y/N. It’s not such a bad thing, is it? Could be worse looking guys to end up with, right?” He walked at your side again, making a teasing kissy face and leaning close to you. You leaned away with an awkward and nervous laugh.

“If you keep doing things like that then you are going to get smacked.”

“Worth it.” He held the door open for you and together you left the hotel. Outside a bus waited to take tourists to the shrine for the festival. People were already loading onto it. Kung Lao offered you his hand and you looked to him skeptically. He grabbed your hand anyway and then you walked onto the bus. “You’re going to have to get better at pretending.” You found seats near the back of the bus and even as you sat, he didn’t let go of your hand. You felt incredibly silly. Yet, it also made your heart flutter. As much as you had given him a hard time, you also happened to think it was an incredibly sweet and kind of wholesome idea.

Funny enough, you had thought of this moment before but in a much different context. Maybe in a life where your childhood together hadn’t ended so traumatically. Where you’d stayed close friends and he’d have asked you out when you were old enough. In a way, you felt like a silly schoolgirl, something you hadn’t felt in years.

If he hadn’t died then this was exactly where you would have wound up. Somehow that made you feel much less silly and you finally relaxed. Kung Lao pointed out several interesting things on the side of the road through the window and you listened to him chatter on until the bus was pulling up to the shrine. You waited for the others to get off the bus and then you walked ahead of Kung Lao and stepped off it.

The shrine was huge and it took your breath away.

So much so that it made you dizzy.

A river flowed before you then beneath a red bridge. To the left of the bridge there was a white beach lining the bluest and most artificial-looking water that you had ever seen in your life. Rocks were piled alongside the shore in strange formations. Beyond the bridge there was a stone path that led to the shrine in the distance, and it was lined with old lanterns. You walked to the edge of the stone path where the bus had dropped you off to try and get a better look at the water.

That was a teal color you had never seen before in nature. In your mind’s eye, you recalled your vision and it made your stomach drop. You took a step further and were suddenly grasped around the waist and pulled away from the edge of the stone. Then Kung Lao looped his arm in yours. “You looking to take a dip?”

You hadn’t realized that you had almost walked right into the river. You hadn’t been thinking. The water had bewitched you, it seemed. You needed to get a closer look at it but now that you’d been turned away from it, the feeling had gone. From there you could smell the acidity in the humid air. That was likely why it was so blue. “Pay more attention, okay?”

You weren’t sure what to say to him. It was surreal being there. This place was exactly the same as it had been in your vision but also years, possibly centuries had passed since then. The shrine buildings themselves were much larger than they had been then. They were even a different color. Your head was spinning as you tried to take in everything at once. It was an overload. You grabbed Kung Lao’s arm to try and ground yourself. You felt as though you were floating and the wind would take you away.

Kung Lao led you onto the bridge and at its apex you sat and watched the water trickle beneath it. He helped you lean your elbows against the railing and then placed a supportive hand on your back.

“It’s okay. Take a second.” He seemed to realize that you were having a difficult time. How could you explain that you were struggling to wrap your mind around being in a place where you’d had such a vivid and violent vision? You were grateful for him. Your heart was racing and you watched the water flowing beneath the bridge, over the rocks. Your stomach had dropped. It felt as though you were intimately familiar with this place, as though you had spent years there, but you had never once seen it before. At the same time, everything felt completely new. Your brain was waging war with itself. “You okay?”

“Yeah, this is just… surreal.” You were finally able to collect your thoughts enough to talk.

“You went a bit gray. Figured you needed a minute.”

“I appreciate it.”

“So, where do we go?”

“There’s a well inside one of those buildings.” You nodded to your right where the shrine was at the end of the stone path.

“Vague, but okay.” He peered to the right and then pointed. “It’s off limits.” From there you could see a series of ropes that blocked off the building from visitors. “Great.”

“It’s crowded enough here. I’m sure we can sneak in just fine.”

“Of course.” He leaned next to you on his forearms, hands clasped together. “This place is a little spooky.”

“It is. I read a brochure from the hotel lobby. The monks here believe that it’s the gateway to hell. The river beneath us is supposed to represent the Sanzu.” You pointed below you. It was a little spooky, you supposed, but it was also incredibly beautiful.

“I read about that. I also read that there are holy water bathhouses and volcanic cauldrons with crazy colored water.”

“Yeah, and a lake of blood.”

“I hate that, Y/N.” He stuck his tongue out at the idea. You laughed. He was too funny. He had this way of making you feel at least even about the big and often uncomfortable things sometimes. Other times he drove your anxiety through the roof. Thankfully, this wasn’t one of those moments. “What do you say that we get to sneaking in and find this thing so that we can have a bit of fun for the rest of the day, huh?”

“That sounds nice.”

He took your hand once again and you walked over the bridge and along the stone path. The lanterns were decorated for the festival along with the rest of the shrine. Monks walked about, greeting visitors and answering questions while explaining various attractions. Most visitors, and there were many, were straying from the temple in favor of the white sands or the volcanic cauldrons. You and Kung Lao walked until you reached the ropes before the shrine. You stood there for a time in the shade, waiting for your moment to sneak in unseen.

“Coast is clear,” you whispered and turned to keep watch while Kung Lao snuck into the shrine. Once inside, you waited for your opportunity and followed him. Inside, the building was ancient but to you it seemed oddly brand new. It wasn’t the same shrine that you remembered from your vision. Much had changed since that wicked man had been there.

No one was waiting for you inside the small entryway or in the room beyond. That seemed like the central room, with space for prayer and a dip in the center for dining. The floor was lined with tatami mats and the ceiling was high, windows on the second floor spattering sunlight throughout the room. Halls branched off in each direction and you suddenly felt overwhelmed with choice. It had seemed so much simpler in your vision.

“Lead the way but be cautious. We’re not alone.” Kung Lao spoke in a hushed tone, staying close to you but alert.

“Yeah.” You started through the room and down the closest hallway, checking to see if it was empty first. Kung Lao took your hand and you urged him along with you. Your stomach was in knots and his hand there continued to keep you grounded. Several times you encountered monks going about their business and you had to duck into other rooms or sneak back around corners. You somehow managed to remain unseen, having to huddle together in strange spaces and hide in enclosed areas. It would have been fun had it not been so damn frustrating.

None of it made sense! As you turned down another hall, you sighed in frustration. You’d wound up there twice already. Your gut kept sending you there and back to the central room but there was no indication that it was the same place that the vision had taken place in. Kung Lao suddenly pulled you back into the side room and held you against the wall near the door. There were footsteps in the hall, and you held your breath until they had passed. You made to go back into the hall, but Kung Lao pinned you in place.

“You’re leading us in circles.”

“I know. It’s hard to explain. It’s like someone’s moving everything around while we’re walking. It doesn’t make any sense. I think I’m going one way and then we’re back to where we started.” It was making you sick to your stomach, as a matter of fact.

“You can do this. Just focus.”

“Kung Lao, you have no idea what’s going on in my head right now. I am focusing.”

“You’re right I don’t. So, tell me.”

“I’m not sure that I have the words to explain that the room we’re looking for should be right around the corner but then it isn’t.” It really was disorienting to expect to be in one place and end up in another. “It shouldn’t have been this far back but also this place is ten times bigger than it had been in my vision.”

“I need you to try still.”

You were mixed up. It was like someone was moving rooms in your head and before you knew it, you had once again led him back into the central room which made both you and Kung Lao groan in annoyance.

“Oh good. We’re back. I was worried.”

“It should be right here, but everything looks so different!”

“It’s okay, Y/N. We’ll figure it out.”

“It’s not okay, Kung Lao. It should be right here. I wish I could just show you.” The frustration was radiating off you, you were sure. “I can’t-”

“Is someone there?” A voice from somewhere down the hall called and footsteps approached from a distance.

“Fu…” Kung Lao whispered and then grabbed you and searched for somewhere to hide. The closest hall was too far. You were caught. “Don’t panic.” He urged you to the wall with surprising care and you made a sound of surprise. What did he mean don’t panic? You were instantly panicking. Don’t panic? What was wrong with him? He leaned against you and tilted your chin up and his head toward you like he was going to kiss you, obscuring you both with his hat. “Act natural, Y/N.” His lips brushed against your cheek, just next to your lips. “I swear, you’re terrible at this.” You were stiff as a board, so he had every right to scold you, but also he was pretending to kiss you so what the hell were you supposed to do with that? What was natural in this case?

You gave him a swift but soft punch in the gut and he laughed against your cheek in return. That made you feel a bit better. He lifted his head just enough and you peered toward the door nearby, waiting for the monk that would inevitably kick you out. You could have had time to hide at this rate. Kung Lao’s lips were pressed against your cheek and they were soft even if it was just in a mock kiss close enough to your lips to look like you were sneaking a private moment.

You peered around the corner, thinking maybe you were in the clear. Kung Lao did the same and when you turned back to tell him that maybe the monk had decided to turn away, you found him extremely close to you. Intimately so. His dark eyes were serious and that always scared you for whatever reason. He tilted your chin toward him and all other thoughts slipped out of your brain.

What were you doing there? Where were you anyway? And why? Did it matter?

Not right now it didn’t.

His hand was on your chin, thumb brushing just below your lip, urging your lips to part just enough. You dared not breathe to break the tension of the moment. The sneaking and searching were gone completely from your thoughts. All that was left was the boy that you’d so admired in your youth grown into a handsome man with his hand against the wall at your side, the other inextricably lost below your lower lip.

His eyes were searching you, but you dared not look back into them for fear of what you might find, for fear of what it might reveal to you. His breath warmed your lips before they were on yours, parting them like a blossom in a soft and singular tender movement. A far superior kiss than the one he’d pretended to give you for the sake of saving your skin.

His lips were sweet. Not like sugar or candy, but sweet like the lingering taste of honey at the bottom of a cup of tea. It was a feeling of sweetness rather than a flavor. The moment was still and soft, his lips treasuring yours as though they were something sacred and special. They pulled back just enough from yours that you could feel your lips resisting to part as if they had minds of their own. His eyes were searching you still for answers and in wonder, but you didn’t dare meet them. Yet, you could feel his gaze and beneath your fingertips, that had betrayed you and now rested on his chest, you could feel his heart beating almost as hard as yours.

His breath graced your lips again, but you dared not breathe. You wanted to say something, even just a whisper of his name, but no words would come and you sat there, lips parted in waiting, avoiding his eyes, hand clutching the cloth at his chest, unsure of where you even were or why. This was Kung Lao.

Your Kung Lao.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as they were on yours again, but the softness was gone, though there was something about them that was still sweet even so. The force of his kiss pressed you against the wall, leaving you no escape- not that you wanted to escape. This was a moment that the ten-year-old inside your head had both longed for and not understood. You would have been a fool not to return his kiss, to taste and experience his lips the way that he was with yours and so you did. You kissed him and it was like a storm inside you beyond your control, building with electricity with every moment that passed.

There was a tender moment of acceptance where it felt as though time stood still. The soft moment faded quickly to frenzied desperation. There was no space left between you. Kung Lao was pressed against you, body warm and strong, hat nearly pushed back off of his head as he favored kisses over his possessions. Your hands moved up his chest, to the sides of his neck, fingertips then tangling in the short, messy tendrils of his hair at the base of his hairline. Your heart was doing flips, brain completely turned off to anything that had happened before this, even if somewhere in the distant reaches of your mind you could hear your instincts telling you that you had to stop. Whatever muting effect had been triggered in your brain had seemed to impact Kung Lao as well.

In one swift motion, fluid and strong, his hands were at your thighs and he had lifted you and pressed you against the wall, urging your legs to wrap around him. Your arms slipped naturally around his shoulders, pulling him closer between hot and increasingly sloppy kisses.

“Excuse me?”

Ah, yes. The monk. That was right.

You stopped kissing him.

Kung Lao’s lips finally pulled from yours and you could feel that your own were left slightly swollen from the desperation and passion of those precious few moments. When had you gotten so tangled up in each other? His chest was rising and falling against yours quickly and even though he’d pulled back his lips lingered close to yours as if to consider defying the monk further.

“My apologies.” The monk sounded embarrassed and bowed multiple times. “This area is closed to the public for the festival.”

You finally managed to regain your thoughts and untangled yourself from Kung Lao. You placed your feet on the ground and cleared your throat though your face was likely as red as his robes. He released you from his grip though he made no effort to step away. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat and forced your brain to work.

“Is it?” You sounded surprised and were grateful that you had. You hadn’t expected to be a very good actor after all that, but you had been surprised to be interrupted and also confused as to where your mind had gone. It was more feigning innocence than lying. The monk nodded and looked as though he sincerely felt bad for interrupting you. “I’m sorry. We had no idea.”

“It’s no worries. I will happily escort you back to the festivities. Follow me.”

“Sorry about that.” Kung Lao, who you had never seen at a loss for words, seemed to finally regain himself. Just like that, he was back to the goof he’d been when you’d first arrived. “We were just sneaking off to have a private moment. Didn’t realize it was off limits.”

“It happens all the time. You’d be surprised.” The monk led you back through the central room and into the entryway. You elbowed Kung Lao as you followed the monk and he laughed beneath his breath. Once outside the monk bowed to you and then left you alone. You leaned your head back and stared into the sunny blue sky with a sigh. You needed a new plan. That one had gone off the rails in a way you hadn’t expected.

#kung lao #mk kung lao #kung lao x reader #liu kang x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #kiss #romance #fluff #mortal kombat 2021 #mortal kombat movie #kung lao x you #kung lao/reader #kung lao/you #max huang #ludi lin #angst

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i-ate-the-whole-entire-pie · 3 years ago

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Call Me Mother, Chapter One

I languidly drained the last breath from my cigarette, the drag filling my lungs. My garter straps hung down lazily, tickling my thighs, as they awaited their purpose. Music thumped rapidly, and whoops of delight resounded through the hall. The dressing room door swung open; a small, but curvaceous woman behind it.

Her eyebrows were tweezed to perfection, eyes deeply shadowed, eyelashes false and curled into large feathery swoops; her mouth was like a plump strawberry. I’d always harbored a mild curiosity about how it tasted.

“Mary, you’re up in 10 minutes. I want you at the curtain in five," Cristella said, her hispanic accent thick.

“Is that a new corset?” I asked. Cristella turned me around, and yanked the laces of my corset together. Thank god I haven’t needed to breathe for the last 150 years, I thought. I floated a small influence her way. Gentler, please. She complied, unwittingly. They always do.

I don’t normally use my influence on people I like, but I’m far too hungry to risk her pinching me with this corset. I couldn’t forgive myself if I lost control. She was far too kind to die a death that violent.

“It is. This papí chulo I’ve been seeing said he wanted me to wear it for him. Maybe he’ll tip better," she said, carefully pulling the slack out of the lower half of my corset. I placed my hands over my belly, holding everything in place.

“What’s the crowd looking like?” I tucked the ties away. She jutted a hip out, and began counting off on her impeccably manicured fingers.

“The usual crowd. Old Man Carraway, that one divorcee who drinks like a fish. College kids. Oh, there’s also these dudes in silver masks. Low-key kind of demonic. And some weird guy in like, face paint? He’s painted up like a calavera. I figured they came from that concert that was in town. You know, the one that church was protesting? Say they like worship Satan or something?”

“Sounds about right." I bent down to attach my straps to the garters of my stockings.

“They’re probably here for a private room, so I figured I’d put you on now. You’re good at handling the weirdos." Cristella giggled, watching me struggle to get the backs of my stockings attached. She and I broke into fits of giggles, as she chased me in circles, trying to help me attach my stockings.

“Let me get that. Hurry up and get on stage!” she said, giving me a playful smack on the ass. I pranced out of the room, trying to avoid her grasping mitts.

“Hey! No bruising the merchandise!” I giggled, linking arms with her as we strutted backstage, perfectly in step with one another. She grabbed the microphone from Mike the Mic Guy, gave me a wink, and stepped through the curtain.

“Aaaaand we’re back! Now, this next lady I’ve got lined up for you is quite a treat. She’s as pale as cream, thicker than a bowl of oatmeal, and will definitely step on you. Well, she might if you tip well. For legal reasons, we can’t call her “Elvira,” so I guess we’ll settle for… MOTHER! MARY!” That was my cue. I sauntered through the curtain, my hips moving like a figure eight. I moved across the stage, “Lullaby” by the Cure playing. I always chose various genres of rock for my acts. Not that I have anything against the other girls’ music choices… but there’s only so much female rap you can play in one night. As I began to dance, I noticed the group that Cristella had mentioned earlier. They were sitting front and center, near the edge of the stage.

Seven of the masked figures sat around the Painted Man, as I had labeled him. Two of the masked figures seemed effeminate, and the other five seemed more masculine. They all ranged in different shapes and sizes. Maybe the masks are a fetish thing? Cristella did say that they came from a concert… Something about them seemed off. I did a swing around the pole, dropping into a fireman, trying to catch a scent. It was a whirlwind of scents, none of them too out of the ordinary. Except the beefy one. He smelled like midnight. I don’t know how to explain it. What really caught my interest though was the Painted Man. Specifically, his eyes. One of them was grey, the iris almost black. The other eye had a pale, white iris. It suited him, and it was beautiful, in an eerie way. Those eyes looked at me, as I danced around the stage, and they knew me. If I had a working heart still, it would be racing.

As Robert Smith crooned, I descended the stairs of the stage as sensually as one could in Pleaser heels, making my way to the Painted Man. If I wanted to know what these people were, I’d have to get a closer look. The Painted Man patted one of his legs with a gloved hand, and cocked his head to the side. I took the invitation, but not before I teased him. I crouched between his legs, running my hands up his thighs. As I rose, I walked my hands up his thighs, bringing my face closer to his. His breath graced my skin, smelling faintly of licorice. As he leaned in, for what I could only assume was a kiss, I rose again, strutting over to one of the masked beings. It was the smaller of the male ones. I sat in his lap, letting him run his hands over me as I began to grind on his lap. His growing erection told me I was going to have a busy night.

“Your boss is a little too eager," I whispered, getting a good whiff of him. He smelled faintly of smoke. I put my hands on his chest, trying to keep my balance. No heartbeat.

“What makes you think he’s my boss?” The being asked petulantly. He grabbed onto my waist, as he began to grind with me. I moved his hand to the small of my back, and leaned back in a dip. The being ran his other hand over my belly, in between my breasts, and up to my throat, bringing me back up to his masked face.

“You’re the one wearing a uniform." I darted my tongue out to lick my lips. What is he? My mind raced as I tried to run through every supernatural creature I’d ever known. But then I heard it. I barely even understood it. All I picked up was price and one night. It was Ghoulish. The taller female ghoul was asking about what I can only assume was my hourly rate. Most strip clubs in this part of Vegas were just fronts for brothels. However, it’s hard to sell the idea of prostitution to Mid-Western vanilla tourists. So most of my income was made from stripping. I usually had one or two clients I went to bed with a night. It wasn’t very stable, but then again, I had less expenses than the average stripper, considering my “condition."

“Tell your friend my basic hourly rate is $500. My Ghoulish isn’t any good." I stood up, and made my way to the female ghoul’s lap.

“How do you know Ghoulish?” she asked, a bit of surprise in her tone. I bent over in front of her, shaking my ass for her. She put a couple of bills in the waistband of my panties, punching my previous ghoul in the arm. He forked over some cash as well.

“I’m not human. I’ll leave it at that," I said, stuffing the cash into the top of my corset. Dear lord… All hundreds… The female ghoul rubbed my thighs, turning me back around slowly, so as to admire my ass.

“Could we get a room after your number? I think a private dance is in order," she said, in broken Ghoulish. I nodded, and as if on cue, the lights and music began to fade out. As I began to walk back up the stairs to the stage past the Painted Man, his hand darted forward to smack my ass. God, it really is not the night for this shit. My more animalistic nature took over, and before I could stop it, a hiss left my lips. As if of their own accord, my fangs sprung painfully through my gums. I heard a snap, and looked over to see the largest ghoul stand up. He shook his head. Thank god the lights were low. Embarrassed, I covered my mouth, and made my way across the stage.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Mike the Mic Guy asked, handing a mic to Cristella. I still had my hand over my mouth. Cristella looked worried.

“Are you okay Mary? I can get you some tea if you’re keyed up." I shook my head.

“Please get a room ready. The Freak Parade wants a private dance," I said as I walked away, silently cursing myself. Once back in the dressing room, I threw open the mini-fridge I normally kept padlocked. I looked to the last bottle I had left in my stash. Hopefully it hasn’t clotted, I thought, throwing the bottle back. This wouldn’t end my thirst, but it would certainly quell the burning in my throat. You nearly lost it. You need to bag one of these stupid fucks tonight, or else. I hadn’t had a bad case of blood lust in decades, but the combination of winter holidays, my strict schedule, and FOSTA-SESTA had really cut off my food supply.

The door opened, and Cristella came in with a cup of tea. She looked at the flask in her hand and cocked a brow.

“And you didn’t offer to share. What is that? Cuervo? Henny?” she said, reaching for the flask. I shook my head, and put it back in the fridge, closing the padlock.

“It’s cough syrup. I keep it under lock and key because of that bitch Ronnie. She’s not fooling anybody. You ever see how much her hands shake? Too much caffeine? Yeah, right. We all know what the DTs look like." I began changing into a burgundy velvet bra and panty set, pairing it with some burgundy gloves and stockings. Finally, I found a pair of sparkly Loboutins Lydia had left me. My mind rolled back through the streets of Paris to 1991, when Louboutin opened its first salon. Lydia smiled, as I kissed her shin, helping her into the heel. She looked down at me, her eyes full of love, and the corner of her mouth hiding a kiss just for me.

“Yeah, she is pretty suspish. What happened with those weirdos out there?” Cristella interrupted my memory. I shook my head. Are you just imagining your heartache?

“Oh the big guy was just mad because I didn’t get around to him. That’s why I wanted you to get the room. Plus, I might be able to secure a nice check from these guys. They all seemed absolutely randy," I said. Cristella shook her head, giggling. The gloss in my hand made a popping noise, as I pulled the wand from the bottle. It was my favorite flavor, watermelon.

“I can ask one of the boys to sit in, to keep them from getting too handsy," Cristella said. I shook my head. It would only keep me from getting too handsy, I thought to myself. Bless her heart. I could never make a kill here. I loved the crew here far too much. Plus, I didn’t have a coven. No one to protect me when I fucked up. They kicked me out long ago. It’s the main reason I ended up in Vegas, avoiding the sun when I could, doing my best to keep a legal and convenient profession. Where else could get a job with only night shifts, and a never-ending supply of useless assholes no one cared about?

“I’ll be okay Crissy. Even if they do try something, we have a panic button in there. Don’t worry." I gave her a slimy, glossy kiss on the cheek, earning a shriek from her strawberry mouth. She batted at me, narrowly missing me as I bounded out of the room.

As I approached the bigger of our three private rooms, I noticed two of the larger male ghouls standing outside the door. All of the ghouls dressed similarly, including the female ghouls. But I now noticed the alchemical symbols dangling from their belt chains. The shorter one had a quintessence symbol, the other larger one, an earth symbol. The earth one opened the door, and the quintessence one escorted me in.

“Thank you, Aether. Back to the door with you. Come, have a seat. Dewdrop says there is more to you than meets the eye. Let me pour you a glass of wine, cara," a thick, Italian accent beckoned to me. I walked to the ottoman in the middle of the room, where I usually found myself during private dances.

“I don’t drink during work hours, love. Now, what should I call you?” I looked into the mismatched eyes of the Painted Man.

“You can call me Papa. I’m Papa Emeritus, the fourth. My close friends call me Copia, but I suppose we are not quite there yet, sí?” he said, leaning forward to take my chin in his hand. I nodded.

“While I would love to marvel at your undoubtedly exquisite body, There is some business we should take care of first, piccolina. Do you like Type O Negative?” Cue the record scratching. The dreamy look I normally adopt when with my clients evaporated.

“Excuse me?” I whispered. Papa laughed.

“The band, cara. I was going to have you dance for me later. However, you must have a preference."

“I really don’t understand what you mean," I whispered. Papa laughed again, a big booming laugh.

“I know your secret cara. The ghouls told me. One of my predecessors, Papa Nihil, told me if I were to ever come across your kind, I should try to win your allegiance. Your kind have interesting abilities, specifically the power of influence." Of course that’s what he’s after.

“I don’t do that," I said, looking down to avoid his gaze. Papa tsked.

“I think you will. The ghouls say you smell lonely. Where is your famiglia?” He asked. I shook my head. Lydia’s pained screams echoed in my ears, our last moment together wrenching my heart out of my chest decades later.

“We split because of artistic differences," I said softly. Dewdrop and his companions giggled behind me.

“Forcing people to allow you to exsanguinate them for sport is not ‘artistic differences,’” Dewdrop hissed. The other ghouls laughed. Papa shook his head, and raised a hand to silence them.

“Now now, Dewdrop. It is hard to control one’s basic nature. Sí, tesoro? Tell me, how long has it been since your last drink?” He looked at me with concern. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I knew what he saw. Weak, pathetic, useless… The words were like a disgusting mantra, swirling through my mind, angry and acidic.

“Weeks�� It’s been weeks," I whispered. He tsked again. I heard the ghouls chatter amongst themselves. Their pity made me feel disgusting, like a child with sweaty, clammy hands, and odorous armpits.

“What if I told you I could offer you a job and a home? A home where you wouldn’t have to hide your nature. A home where you’d never go hungry again?” I looked up at him.

“What kind of job?” I asked. The ghouls laughed again. Papa shot them a glare.

“I would make use of your gifts occasionally. Nobody would get hurt. You would warm my bed whenever I asked. Maybe pick up a trade or two once back with the Clergy. And in turn, you would get protection, and all the blood you could ever need," he said. I finally mustered the courage to look him in the eyes. What do you have to lose? Besides, you’ve done infinitely worse things.

“You swear on your life, nobody will get hurt? Not a single person?” I asked. Papa nodded.

“I’ll do it. I’ll also require a salary as well," I said, extending my hand. Papa nodded, taking my hand in both of his.

“Anything you need, cara. But first, I think you need a drink. And then we will get the night I paid for," he said. He waved his hand towards the door, which the shorter female ghoul scurried to open. I noticed she sported a pocket chain with an air symbol.

“Bring in one of the more rosy siblings, Cumulus. I suspect our new friend will need the sustenance before we get too far into our plans for the night," Cumulus nodded, and shut the door behind her. Papa stood up, and began removing his suit jacket and gloves; rolling up his sleeves. I could see his blue veins pulsating, causing me to become aroused in a way I cannot quite explain. Involuntarily, my pussy throbbed, and my mouth watered.

“Now now, little one. Be patient. Your drink will be here soon enough. But for now, you will seal our little deal with a kiss, so to speak. On your knees," Papa ordered, gesturing to the floor. I slipped from the ottoman to the floor, crawling on all fours to him. His breath hitched as I slid my hands up his thighs. I didn’t break eye contact as I unbuckled his trousers, nor when I reached into his pants to pull out his sizeable cock.

The door opened, and I heard mumbles, as well as a struggle, and a thud. Of course, both my hands and mouth were preoccupied. I watched Papa intently as I sucked him off. His eyes were rolled back, his mouth slack, and his hands threaded into his hair, as he let out an ungodly moan. I kitten licked his frenulum, stroking his shaft, earning another moan. He bucked his hips into my throat. Sit still, I whispered in the back of my mind. Papa grabbed my hair, and pulled me off his cock.

“Never again, my little bat. Continue," he said, grabbing either side of my face as he began to fuck my throat rigourously. Someone behind me cleared their throat. I wasn’t able to look up, due to my current predicament.

“Can’t you see I’m busy, Cirrus? What is it?” Papa let out a grunt, as his cock twitched in my mouth. I began to fellate him with my hands, wrenching more breathy sighs and groans from him. Within seconds, his warm seed was flooding my throat. I heard Dewdrop cheer, and then a slap, which I assumed was a high five. Papa rolled his eyes and smiled, as I dabbed away the bit of cum that had spilled over my bottom lip.

“Just in time. I needed something to wash down all that salt," I stood, and walked over to the person Cumulus and Cirrus stood in front of. It looked like a plumper woman. She was wearing what looked like a nun’s habit, her red ringlets spilling out from under her wimple.

“All for you cara. Come find me when you have finished your meal," Papa walked out, which left me with the ghouls and my prey. Dewdrop, and the other male ghoul, who sported a water symbol, helped the little nun onto the couch.

“You’re going to let me fuck that tight ass later, right? Nearly busted watching you and Copia earlier," Dewdrop said to me, softly enough for just me to hear. I giggled and nodded, batting him away after he began nibbling on my neck. He patted my ass, and began to pull the wimple from the nun’s head.

“I’ve got this. Why don’t you and the rest of the ghouls get started? I’ll be done pretty quickly." Dewdrop nodded.

“C’mon, Rainy. Come play with my cock, while we watch Mary drink," The water ghoul nodded, grabbing Dewdrop’s hand. I turned my attention back to the nun. She began to stir. I pushed back her hair.

“This is going to hurt a little bit. But I will make this quick and painless. You deserve an easy death." The nun, barely awake, nodded, and turned her head. I cradled her head, and brought her throat to my mouth. With a final kiss to her soft, peachy flesh, I sank my teeth into her throat, not letting a single drop of her blood go to waste.

It felt like drinking water after being stuck in a desert for a week. Her blood was sweet, clean, and thick, and it quenched my thirst quickly. Her body began to go limp in my arms, and her skin turned cold. It’s still not enough. I had to force myself to stop. Never drink the last drop. It might just be the last thing you do, my old mentor’s voice reminded me. I let the little nun drop back to the couch, and turned to face the ghouls. Cirrus sat with Cumulus, each with a hand in the other’s pants. Rain was bobbing his head up and down slowly, as Dewdrop played with his hair. Dewdrop looked up at me.

“Hot," he said. Cirrus nodded, and refocused her attention on Cumulus. Rain moaned, causing Dewdrop to hiss. I looked at them all, lust clouding my gaze.

“Make room. It’s my turn," I said. Dewdrop pulled my mouth to his, not fazed one bit by the blood coating my lips. Cirrus began to explore the space between my thighs with her long, gorgeous fingers. Rain held my hair, kissing and nipping at my neck. A girl really could get used to this...

Hours later, after all of the ghouls had had their turn, even the two from the door, I was back in the dressing room. I opened the envelope the earth ghoul, Mountain, had handed me on the way out. My eyes grew like saucers as I counted the money inside. I had only expected eight grand; two hours, eight clients, multiplied by $500. But as I counted, I realized I had 15 grand in my hands. The door opened, breaking my wealth-induced trance. It was Papa.

“If you would really like the job, come to this address in two weeks. Bring only what you must. Put everything else in storage," he said, handing me a card. I was confused.

“Why two weeks?” I asked. Papa smiled.

“Because it’s polite, cara. Don’t forget your letter of resignation."

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This is the first thing I've wrote in years! I hope you all enjoy it! A special thanks to @gasolineghuleh for all of their help!

#the band ghost #popia #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #cumulus ghoullete #cirrus ghoulette #duckydaydreams

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bokutosworld · 4 years ago

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the ending scene | kuroo t.

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader word count, genre: 2.3k words, angst. kenma makes a cameo and offers support as the good friend that he is. summary: in which kuroo realizes that his relationship is edging closer to its end, and it’s up to him to cut the ties.

“Did you really love me?” His question takes you by surprise, your words getting stuck in your throat. “I want to know,” his voice breaks. “In the years that we were together, did you ever truly love me?”

How do you look at the person you love and tell yourself that it is time to walk away?

It’s a thought that has been sitting in Kuroo’s mind for a while now. And as he’s standing outside the library, the glass windows giving him unobstructed view of you, it seems to him that he’s much closer to the answer more than he thought.

You weren’t alone. He recognizes the person you were with and his heart clenches at the sight.

Yanagi was their name, and he remembers meeting him during a college party. His mind plays back that moment when you happily introduced them to each other. They were the two most important men in your life as you declared. It had only been a few weeks since you two started dating, but he was genuinely touched that you’d already considered him a special person in your life.

But looking at the two of you from his current spot, he wonders if he still holds that position. Right now, anyone could easily mistake you and Yanagi for a couple. For a study session, the two of you seemed too close for comfort, and any other day, he wouldn’t think anything of it. He knows that Yanagi has been your best friend for years. The pair of you go way back, even before Kuroo had entered your lives.

And he respects that. It wasn’t in Kuroo’s personality to ever be possessive to the point that he’d stop you from being friends with others. In fact, he’s the one who’s always pushing you to be more social and hang out with your friends. Just because he was dating you doesn’t mean he wants to monopolize you.

But he has his moments when he wonders if he has ever made you smile the way you were smiling in Yanagi’s presence right now. He ponders if you’d ever laughed so hard with him, tears of joy spilling from the corners of your eyes, the way Yanagi was making you right now. You seem so free, so comfortable with Yanagi, and he couldn’t help but wish that it was him instead who was by your side.

Kuroo has half a mind to turn around and leave you be, knowing that Yanagi would bring you home safely anyway. But your eyes catch his, and suddenly he feels frozen in his spot.

You wave, the smile that he’s fallen in love with paints your face as you call him over. His resolve to go home and talk to Kenma about his worries dissipates the instant you beckon for him.

“I was wondering when you’d arrive,” you stand and kiss him on the cheek the moment he reaches your table. “I’m getting hungry. It’s about time we go for dinner, don’t you think?”

He reaches to carry your laptop, helping you fix your things. “Is Yanagi joining us?” He watches you, anxious as he waits for your answer. You take a second to think it over, but he doesn’t miss how your face lightens up at his suggestion. He watches you excitedly turn to your friend, inviting him to go. And it was when Yanagi agrees that Kuroo realizes his mistake.

—

“Why are you here, Kuroo?” Kenma drops his bag at the side of his bed where the boy currently in question was lounging. “I know I gave you access to my flat, but that doesn’t mean you can just barge in here without a warning.”

Kuroo grumbles, tossing and turning in his friend’s bed before he sits up with a scowl on his face. He exhales loudly, his hands flying to his hair to ruffle them in his confusion. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?” Kenma drags his gaming chair and takes a seat across Kuroo. He already has a hunch about his friend’s problem, but he didn’t want to assume and get ahead of himself. In times like these, he’d known that it was better for Kuroo to open up and talk about it by himself.

Kuroo opens his mouth and closes them again. He hesitates. As if the moment he starts talking about it would mean that he’s already admitted his defeat, already accepted the dreadful fate that awaits his relationship.

“Is it her?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it this time?” Kenma wasn’t a stranger to his friend’s overthinking, the way he would come up with a hundred different scenarios that was not helping with the waging war in his mind.

“I’m not sure if I’m still the right person for her,” he confesses. “Yesterday, I went to pick her up at the library and I wasn’t expecting anything, but it still didn’t feel right to see her with him. You know Yanagi.”

Kenma nods, the name ringing a bell in his mind as it had already come up in previous conversations with him. His friend continues, “I know that she’s been nothing but good to me. She’s the best partner that I could ever ask for. I’m happy. We are happy, but yesterday, I saw it in her eyes.

The way she looked at him. I don’t think she’s ever looked at me like that. Not a moment when she smiled or laughed with me the way she did with him.”

He’s never seen Kuroo conflicted like this. Sure, this wasn’t the first time that his former captain came to him for relationship advice. But this was the first that Kuroo’s seemed so desperate, so dejected that the only thing that he was considering was letting go.

“They… have a lot of history together, huh?”

Kuroo chuckles dryly at the remark. “Yeah, and I don’t think I can ever compete with that.”

“But you were together for three years. Wouldn’t it be a complete waste just to give up and throw it all away because, I’m sorry for the word, you were insecure?”

Kenma was right. It’s not that he didn’t trust you; he was insecure, and his doubts were eating him up from the inside. It doesn’t help that there were people around you and him that kept talking about Yanagi, complimenting their easy and comfortable friendship – how they seem like the bestest of friends, like they were soulmates.

“I don’t think I can ever compete with what they have.” Kuroo plops back down on the bed, his voice muffled when he says, “Our three years seem nothing compared to the decades that they have spent together.”

“So,” Kenma sits up and grabs a bottle of beer, one for him and one for Kuroo. “What are you going to do?”

He sees the drink in Kenma’s hand and grabs it. Sitting up, he pops open the cold beverage and takes a sip before asking, “How do you look at the one you love and tell yourself that it is time to walk away?

Sympathizing with his friend, Kenma thinks over his reply, “You don’t want to carry this burden forever. You should already know what to do before it all becomes too much, and you can’t recover.”

—

After meeting with Kenma, Kuroo spent the rest of his evening productive, doing his homework and writing papers to keep his mind from steering to thoughts of you.

The answer was already staring him in the face. But it was still so hard for him to come to terms with it. You were the best thing to happen to him, and he vividly remembers the time when he was so mesmerized when he saw you. People say it doesn’t happen in real life, but Kuroo swears he fell in love at first sight.

He reminisces on your many firsts together. The second-hand embarrassment lingering when he remembers the sleepless nights he spent practicing how he would say those three words to you. But you were a force to be reckoned with.

The words I love you catching him by surprise when they slip out of your mouth one afternoon while you were cuddling in his apartment. He wishes he could turn back time, prays that he could experience it all over again so he could press capture and keep it in his memory.

But he couldn’t, and the reality pains him more than he ever thought it could.

Kuroo spent the whole weekend holed up in his room. Not bothering to check his phone for messages and calls, missing how you left so many texts and voicemails on the device. The sudden silent treatment was worrying you, but you gave up, deciding that you’d talk to him at campus.

However, once the new school week started, Kuroo was nowhere to be seen. He was still not answering any messages, and the rare times that you’d catch him, he’d have an excuse that he had somewhere urgent to go to. But a person could only be busy for so many times.

Besides, you knew his schedule like the back of your hand. And it was becoming clear to you that he was ignoring you. But for why? You sadly didn’t know.

—

Kuroo felt bad. He was already experiencing the effects of withdrawal from distancing himself from you. He’s been so used to you being part of his every day that it was making him feel empty without you.

But this was what he had to do, and ignoring you was his way of slowly preparing himself, and you, for the inevitable.

And the inevitable happens right after your last class on a Friday. A whole week passed by in a blink of an eye, and you were getting hopeless over no interaction with Kuroo. Yanagi had suggested for you to check up on him at his apartment, but you knew that maybe Kuroo needed the time alone.

So when you found him waiting for you outside the classroom, you ran and tackled him with a hug. “You dummy, I missed you. How could you be so cold to me this past week?”

He laughs, but it didn’t sound like him. “I’m sorry, I got busy with my majors.” He takes your pile of folders and carries it. “Shall we head to our usual place for some snacks?”

You agree, but there was a nagging voice in your head telling you to prepare for things to be never be the same again.

The after-school date was decent. You and Kuroo caught up with your activities, exchanging stories that you’d been wanting to tell him for the past week. You notice him nodding to your words, but you avoid commenting on his disinterest and the way he seemed so occupied.

It was when the pair of you were walking home that you finally brought it up. “Okay, something is clearly bothering you. What’s wrong?”

His head remains downcast, the hold on your hand tightening, “We need to talk.”

He makes a stop to the playground near your home. He lets go of your hand, walking to the bench and takes a seat. You reluctantly follow suit. Without any minute to spare, Kuroo takes a deep breath and lays it down. “We should break up.”

You wondered if you heard him right, frantically searching his face for any indication that he was joking. That he was pulling a prank despite April Fool’s Day being months away from now. “What did you just say?”

He’s avoiding your look, “We should end this.”

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” You lash out, getting to your feet and standing in front of him. “Don’t think that I haven’t noticed. You’ve been so indifferent, so absent, and even today, you weren’t the Kuroo that I am in love with.”

He snaps, finally looking at you. “Did you really love me?” His question takes you by surprise, your words getting stuck in your throat. “I want to know,” his voice breaks. “In the years that we were together, did you ever truly love me?”

“Where is this coming from?” You were shaking. “What ar-”

But he was relentless, “What do you think of Yanagi?” That question seemed to hit the nail on the head as you stood still, dumbfounded, shoulders sagging because for once, you didn’t know how to answer.

“You love them, don’t you?” He smiles sadly. “And not just as a friend.”

It’s like a cold wave washes over you, and the tension was getting too much. You take a seat beside him and Kuroo pats your head in understanding. “I see it. How you’re falling in love with him right in front of my eyes, and how he is being the same.” He drops his hand. “But I can’t blame you. I know he’s been there for you longer than I have, and there’s clearly chemistry between you two.”

You didn’t know when you started crying, but your face was becoming wet with tears every second that passes by. “I didn’t… I wasn’t lying all those times that I told you I loved you.”

“I know.” You just love him more, he figures.

“I’m sorry.” The instant you said those words, Kuroo feels his heart split in two. He never wanted to make you cry like this, let alone make you say those words. But this was it, the ending of his love.

“I should be saying that.” He knows you were hurting too, but he also knows that by doing this, you could finally have the chance to be truly happy even if it weren’t by his side anymore.

“I’m sorry for taking you from them. For robbing you of precious time you could’ve spent with them.” He kneels down, taking your face in his hands and wiping the tears. “But thank you for letting me experience what it’s like to be loved by you for the past three years.”

One last kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll always be rooting for your happiness.”

And with one last searing kiss on the lips as goodbye, Kuroo makes his exit from your life and draws the curtain down on his chapter with you.

#hqradiostation #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #kuroo x reader #haikyuucreations #haikyuu angst #kuroo angst #kuroo scenarios #kuroo imagines #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu drabbles #hq!!

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evilzoldyck · 4 years ago

Text

Hell is Other People

Admiring the heavy rock that was tailored perfectly to match your finger in silent awe you gleamed almost as brightly as the diamond which glittered underneath the moonlight.

You could hear the murmurs of your guests and the faint music of the orchestra playing in the background from afar as you stood in your private balcony to revere the ring that symbolised an emblem of eternal faith and affection. To be quite honest with yourself you hadn’t seen it coming, just earlier in the day you’re mulling over which dress to wear for the evening party that your partner scrupulously planned for since months, now that he had proposed to you in front of all your highly esteemed company it all made sense.

This was your engagement party.

Pleading with a resolute ‘yes’ for an answer, the colossal baroque hall erupted into an applause at the sight of the new happily engaged couple. Wiping a few tears of joy and sharing quick loving kisses from your partner he proudly showed you around where his parents eagerly took you in as part of the family. His Mother held you tight as if you were her very own and his Father kissed the back of your hand cordially in response. You’ve never felt so welcomed before, the warmth of having a real family was one that was foreign but comforting for you.

Taking a break from meeting all the guests he had personally invited to witness his ardent declaration of love, you stood alone in the cool breeze to process all the adrenaline in blissfully. To think, engaged during a peaceful warm season, you couldn’t believe you’re going to celebrate your anniversary every year on such a beautiful weather, making a special connotation to the word summer now.

Suddenly feeling an unwanted presence behind you, your face that was once graced with a contented smile had turned into a sour frown. You knew exactly who would turn the most happiest night of your life upside down, trailing after a bloody carpet and reigning chaos until the dawn rises.

The harbinger of death itself, Chrollo Lucilfer.

“So he’s finally proposed,” his dark timbre voice reverberated through the quiet night, startling such a tranquil silence. “I’d congratulate you on your engagement, but I can’t say I’m quite pleased.” There were hundreds of guards your partner employed on duty at the whole premise, guarding every entrance and exit making sure to keep trespassers at bay to keep this party perfect. Though with all the security money could by at your disposal, you weren’t completely surprised someone like him could get through easily, he is the head of the spider after all, capable of going in and out wherever he pleases.

“Chrollo,” you acknowdleged him with an air of indifference, turning around to the slightly to see him dressed in a fine black suit and tie, oddly appropriate for the occasion. “Where are the rest of the troupe? Couldn’t imagine you pulling off a heist on your own.” It was true, there were many treasures such as valuable paintings and ornaments all held in a considerable amount of monetary value scattered along the place, and even then, there were hidden assets stored deep underground that even you had just learned about, or perhaps he’s come for the family’s precious heirloom?

“No need to be so tense, it’s just me tonight.” He suddenly appeared before you, holding the hand in which the engagement ring was secured onto. Smiling bitterly at the glistening jewellery, he showed no movement or even an ounce of intention to take it away from you, rather he looked to be quite pensive as he studied it with a forlorn expression. “I don’t necessarily like to intrude, but it seems that I was uninvited by your charming fiancé.”

Taking your hand away from his cold hands without ever leaving your skeptical eyes off of his lackadaisical form, he reluctantly lets it go. “The feeling still stands.” Glaring at him with a scathing passion. “There is nothing for you to take here, nothing that you have not already seen before. Leave this people alone, they have nothing worthy of you to steal from.”

“You seem to be quite fond of them,” Chrollo commented motionlessly, closing the space even closer. “Perhaps even more than me.” A distasteful tone from him had you nearly shivering in your heels, however you needed to stand your ground you couldn’t let him ruin everything you worked so hard for.

“I’ve let you had your fun, released you from your ties, gave you time for yourself and now what do you do? Run into the arms of another man.” He trapped you in between his body and the stone carved balustrades. “Don’t tell me I’ve been replaced,” he whispered in bitter disbelief before placating himself quickly and placed a gentle hand upon your cheek. “My dearest friend, do I really stand no chance with you? Didn’t you once held me high in the standing of your heart?”

Your throat went completely dry as he bared his unbridled affections for you. “Once,” you answered truthfully. Years before in Meteor City you both shared the same vision, the same utopian perspective of your future filled with comfort through grim determination. However as time progressed he began to stray further away from what you both shared. You watched his avarice grow beyond expectancy, stepping over bodies to get what he desired without a vestige of remorse or empathy. Time turned him to be such a monster, an unrecognisable stranger who’s oddly keeping you alive by his side. “A long time ago, but now I barely remember the traces of where I held you in such position.”

Chrollo smiled sullenly at your response, as if he was expecting the daggers of your tongue into his heart. “You’re too cruel,” he detached the palm of his hand from your soft skin.

“I can’t help but ask after all this time.” He placed a hand against the railing, thoroughly interrogating you closely. “Was it fun, making me chase after you? Did you enjoy the idea of me grovelling for your attention, for you to spare me a simple kiss? I’ve circled the world for your heart and yet it never seems to be enough.”

He kept the bitter quirk on his lips as he continued, “like I’m never enough.”

Gripping onto the hard stone you willed yourself not to let your knees give out. Though he didn’t show it, you could see the raging storm of emotions in his eyes, the pain and betrayal he felt when you left and the sliver of intention to hurt you. You wanted to calm him down, pacify his anger like you did before when you were both younger. However you couldn’t reward his behaviour anymore, you couldn’t be on the same side where history would echo the time in which evil was left untamed

“What is it he has that I couldn’t give you?” He spoke so softly you could feel the sincerity in his words.

“It’s not something you could give me,” your tone as careful and gentle as ever around the capricious being. Unfortunately that set every fibre of his being on fire.

“Do you even love him?”

You took his challenging words as a personal affront to your integrity. “I find it hard to see if that is any of your concern.”

“He’s nearly twice your age.” Chrollo staunchly dismissed. “I see the way you look at me, you look at me with such anger in your eyes, like I’m the lowest being to walk on earth; a vermin with no moral compass.” The warm night air suddenly turned frigid at the sound of his strained voice that was holding back such malice. “And you’re right, but what differentiates me from you is that at least I don’t lie to myself.”

“And the worst thing is that you don’t even seem to realise it do you? You willingly use others for your own interests and discard them once you no longer had use of them. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself, you and I both know your true nature. You’re exactly like me- in fact you might even be worse than me, robbing people blind. I do my work in the dark but you do yours in broad daylight,” Chrollo stated. “I’m not the only monster here.”

“Don’t talk to me of hypocrisy when you value those philosophical books so much,” you angrily countered, noting how much time he spent on the ideas and theories discussed in heavy literatures such as the Leviathan. “Never have I met someone so ridiculously obsessed with Western perspectives on rules and regulations and yet completely disregards them in practice.”

“But isn’t that what’s so appealing about it? Of course I don’t take these words as gospel when there’s so many critiques to each theory. It’s too nuanced and complex to ever rightfully regulate civil society that who could determine what I’m doing is immoral? For Hobbes I’m merely exercising my right of nature as it is ‘the liberty each man hath, to use his own power, as he will for himself, for the preservation of his own nature,’ you remember right?” He quipped, reminding you of the times he shared his esoteric books with you, engaging in meaningful and intellectual thoughts until the candle burned out.

“I have not consented to the laws of nature and therefore I have yet to surrender my natural rights. Thus the sovereign is illegitimate to me and I’m under no obligation of the state as I have not entered in any form of contract bound by the will and rule of the sovereign. I’m not bound to any laws of this land for I do not conform to the will of others but myself. Plato’s Crito would further support his argument on the laws of consent.”

Scoffing at his misconstrued interpretation you vacantly refuted. “Hobbes also said that if there is reasonable hope in preserving peace to seek and follow it.”

“However I may think it not necessary or the best for my life to be best preserved then I may seek and use all helps and advantages of war.”

“Nevertheless all that is futile for his argument remains that the design of men is the willingness to put restraint upon themselves for a more contented life thereby. We should ultimately consent for the second law of nature requires that we should covenant for peace if others are willing.”

“If others are willing.” He repeated and stressed out the first word. “Do you remember where we lived? No person there would opt for peace, it’s every man for themselves. It is what he hypothetically calls the state of nature, a horrible nasty, brutish and short life, except it’s real. Meteor City is a lawless land and as he states that no contract could be formed in the state of nature. Thus this paradox leaves us in a perpetual natural state of mankind; war.”

“You know there’s more to philosophy than just the Leviathan, Rousseau’s Social Contract and Locke’s Second Treatise of Civil Government has a lot to say on your so called ‘freedom’. There is no advantage to stay in the state of nature, the natural progress of humanity is the establishment of a common political authority for the sake of improving our way of life.”

“Actually Locke and Hobbes states that the state diminishes our sense of freedom but is justified in doing so, by no means did they implied our freedom would be retained, and that, is what I don’t find an improvement.”

“Rousseau would disagree with you, the state is a necessary condition of our freedom for the sovereign is the construction of all through the general will and so is directly exercised by the citizenry. Therefore, this eliminates the tension between political authority and individual freedom.” You sighed, “Chrollo even if you wanted to retain individual autonomy over yourself you’d surely remember Mill’s first sentence on the harm principle, ‘the only freedom which deserves the name is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs, or impede their efforts to attain it.’ In other words, as long as you don’t harm others you can do whatever the fuck you like, but you seem to struggle with that concept of freedom don’t you?”

He suddenly chuckled lightly at your remark. “How are you so quick to mark me wrong as if I had forgotten your favourite book?” You suddenly shifted uncomfortably on your feet as he smirked amusingly at your cornered form. “I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the revered Mary Wollstonecraft, we would often read her passages for hours didn’t we? A Vindication of the Rights of a Woman, well, I guess we’re both hypocrites here.”

“What was her argument? That women were rendered weak, lacked the use of reason, had no special moral value?” He droned on and looked afar as if he was in deep thought before returning his sharp gaze to yours. “You had a lot to say about the sexist social arrangements in today’s society, you argued that women are deprived of their natural rights to acquire virtue through the use reason. How Wollstonecraft would be so disappointed if she could see you right now, the most passionate proponent of her work devoting her energies in pleasing and making herself attractive to men.”

“Stop it.” You hissed as he jabbed at your pride, mocking your own words of the past to further humiliate your contradicting present.

“What were the words you used to quote to me? ‘Have women so little in ambition as to be satisfied with such a condition? Can they supinely dream life away in the lap of pleasure and render themselves conspicuous by practicing the virtues which signify mankind? Surely she has not an immortal soul who can loiter life away merely employed to adorn her person, that she may amuse the languid hours, and soften the carress of a fellow-creature who is willing to be enlivened by her smiles and tricks, when the serious business of life is over.’ Aren’t you becoming the women she is scathing about?”

“What’s so wrong with pleasure? Wanting to be taken care of? The want and human need for companionship and love is not one to be jeered at. Might it just even cross your mind that I chose this life instead of ‘building my faculty.’ Those texts described the social conditioning of women back in the eighteen hundreds, women have more options now and are more than capable to choose. Times have changed.”

“Have they?” Chrollo hummed. “Is the pleasure that you insist on promoting for you, or for him?” He rubbed the silky garment of your dress impassively. “Don’t you wish to be more than a pretty ornament? To have purpose and participate in the natural rights of mankind? ‘Virtue, says reason, must be acquired by rough toils, and useful struggles with worldly cares.’ Sure you are provided with goods and raiment but liberty and virtue are given in exchange. You could build your character by the sense of struggle of living-“

“How can you call that living?!” You exploded abruptly, pausing for a moment to realise that you were shaking all over as you stood in your designer heels before him with glassy eyes. “What we did- to those people, those families, it was never enough for you. I may be what I despised in my youth but I’m better off being an indulgence for others rather than taking account for mass genocide; for what I lack in virtue I make up for my own compassion.”

“How kindly of you,” he nodded absently. “Then perhaps we should test it. Referring back on your comment on Mill’s harm principle, you must know then that the cause of evil not only takes account of a person’s action but also their inaction, and in either case he is justly accountable for the injury.”

“What are you saying?”

“Let’s hypothesise that I would come back on your white wedding day and that I would kill everyone present during the reception, by learning this information, you then would be held responsible for each of their death.” You griped your hand so hard you’re sure that you’ve left specks of bloody crescent moon marks on the palm of your hands.

“I have no obligation of duty towards you, therefore the harm principle does not apply to me for I am not responsible or related for your actions.” You countered at his allusion to the other-regarding actions where a special role of obligation is placed within the liberty principle.

“No unfortunately you’re not,” he agreed. “But him, would you not protect him at all costs? Surely as your soon to be life long partner you would do whatever it takes to promote his health and well-being. If you would simply come back to me before the day of wedding, denounce your engagement and reinstate your affiliation and loyalty towards the troupe everybody gets their happily ever after.” He finally took a step back. “In failing to meet our obligations to others we are actually harming them.”

“I’m tired of your philosophical rhapsodies, if you were to kill others or even yourself I would not hold myself accountable so I suggest you’d best return to whatever matters you currently have and leave us alone.” You’ve grown anxious and wary of the dangerous connotation of his words and with the way he was impishly grinning at you suggested that he saw right through your bluff.

“Its getting late, you should return to your awaiting fiancé before he realises you’ve been gone for too long,” looking back down at the sight of pretty swirls of dresses on the ballroom quietly dwindling down as the night grew longer. “It’s reassuring to see that you haven’t changed at all, I missed our philosophical prattle.”

“I can hardly say the same, discussing Western philosophers on an engagement party is certainly not in the least enlightening, I suggest you turn to the East for matters such as these.”

Chrollo gave a half-suppressed laugh and an amused smile, one that was rare and sincere in which held no trace of malice or cruelty. “Before I forget to tell you, you look beautiful.” You didn’t let your hardened expression change when his comment took you by surprise as he slowly backed away from you and into the shadows.

You heard your name being called out by Thomas where he sighed in relief and ran towards you in a light jog before taking you into his arms. “So this is where you’ve been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he playfully chastised with a turn on his lips. He led you back inside the bright chandelier lit hall to bid your guests farewell for the night, however, you couldn’t help but glance back from your shoulders to see that Chrollo had disappeared.

Though his presence was now absent, his words still rang loudly inside your head. His confrontation of your nature, how the spotlight is too blinding for someone like you and how it’s just a matter of time you would run into the dark once more with your back up against the wall and tangled up in his web seem to be conveyed as a confident prediction rather than insults to your moral character.

Chrollo wasn’t here to steal anything, not even you, he wanted you to come to him on your own accord even if he had to force pieces to make you submit to his will. However, his appearance tonight also wasn’t meant for mere formalities, in fact he made his purpose and intention clear when he first spoke of the day you would finally be wed.

It was a warning.

#this is gonna be the last fic for a while :(#im gonna fuck off for a few weeks since my break is over #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere x reader #hunter x hunter #yandere #genei ryoudan #yandere genei ryoudan #Phantom Troupe #yandere phantom troupe

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babbushka · 4 years ago

Text

Invitation Only

Bond Villain!Kylo Ren x 007!Reader

3.5k ; NSFW (69, oral sex (m & f receiving) fingering, come eating, come swallowing, mirror sex, PIV)

Inspired by some prompts requesting masquerade/costume party with BV!K

Available on AO3

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Sometimes, you can’t help but think as you make your way down the grand staircase, being an agent really does pay off.

It’s shockingly easy to sneak into the party, the ball. Because that’s what it is really, a grand costume ball hosted on Halloween. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to slip through the doors, everyone is wearing masks and therefore could be anyone in the world. By that same token, you could be anyone, and for tonight, you relish in the opportunity to be no one; the opportunity to simply enjoy the party, and try to gain some intel for Mi6. There were no attacks planned tonight, no fights – you didn’t even have any guns on you this evening.

No, you were here simply to mingle with the best of the worst; the most powerful criminals, evil villains and masterminds that the world had to offer.

So it should make sense, that you would run into Kylo.

You knew he would be here, of course. In fact, you had almost been counting on it, you had dressed for it. You knew he’d be here, and you knew that he knew you’d be here too, so you made sure to put on your most elaborate ball gown, hair done up to the nines, and of course a beautifully crafted mask tied around your face. You knew he’d appreciate the effort, and that he’d come find you to tell you just how much.

However, you hadn’t expected him to take his time finding you. You’d been at the costume ball for nearly two hours, a martini glass in one hand and a winning smile the only thing keeping you company as you rejected offers for dances from men and women alike. Kylo wouldn’t have been too pleased with that, you smirk to yourself behind your glass, and you weren’t here to cause a scene.

It’s elegant, the party. Set in one of these rich old men’s rich old homes, a castle atop a hill in the south of Germany proudly hosts nearly three hundred guests. Ornate candelabras and chandeliers are lit with the orange glow of candles, there are servants walking around with silver trays of food and drink, the baroque music is played by a lively orchestra, and henchmen and masters alike enjoy the merriment on the dance floor.

You have relocated to the upper level of the ballroom, one hand skimming along the banister railing that prevents guests from toppling down off the balcony which overlooks the dance floor. Eyes cast downward, you search through the group of beautifully organized dancers, trying to find the handsome villain you have come to adore.

When he comes up silently beside you, you grin.

“Are you aware that this party is invitation only?” Kylo muses, his voice deep.

You do not turn to face him, instead captivated by the way the dancers spin and move around one another, choreographed steps that have you itching to join them. Taking a sip of your martini, you smile.

“Who’s to say that I wasn’t invited?” You counter. The both of you know you weren’t invited, but what did it matter? You were here, you weren’t causing any trouble, there was no cause for alarm.

Kylo grins and puts his hand on the railing close to yours. He’s wearing gloves, the same as you are; but where yours are long satin opera gloves that go up to your elbow, his are short made of cotton, white and pristine.

“Finally decided to see the light and join the better side, have you?” He murmurs, voice low in your ear as he steps a little closer to you. He too casts his gaze down to the view below, approvingly.

“Maybe I have, or maybe I wanted an excuse to dress up, we’ll never know.” You shrug, finally turning to look at him.

“It’s a beautiful costume, but I’d much rather see what you’re hiding underneath it all.” He’s all teeth when he grins at you, sinister and handsome beyond belief.

Getting a good look at him, you rake your eyes over his body. He’s usually formal, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him in casual dress, but tonight he has truly taken it up a notch. He’s wearing a white bowtie along with his top hat and tails, his starched shirt handsomely pressed and near blindingly clean. His mask is nothing more than a thin strip of gauzy black fabric over his eyes, and you raise a brow. It does nothing to conceal his identity, unlike the more traditional masquerade mask that you sport.

“Incorrigible.” You swat his shoulder as you link your arm around his, allowing him to lead you away from the banister and down the stairs. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m the tall dark stranger your parents warned you about.” Kylo replies easily, and you bite back a groan at his lines. Kylo is nothing if not dramatic, after all.

“Sorry, is that supposed to impress me?” You reply sarcastically instead, and Kylo chuckles, a low rumble in his chest that blooms into your side from where you’re holding onto him.

“Did it?” He teases.

“No.” You lie, and he only grins again. You’ve missed that smile, even though you’d never let him know that.

“Then no.” He lies right back, and before you can say anything else, he frowns suddenly. “You haven’t danced with anyone all evening.”

That observation doesn’t surprise you, but you feel the need to give him some grief about it anyway. Kylo leads you through the dance floor, the two of you wandering and meandering through joyous couples on the marble tile, careful not to bump into anyone as they spin and bow and step in time to the music.

“Oh so you’ve been watching this whole time, have you.” A waiter passes you by, and you place your empty martini glass onto the tray as he goes, both your hands free for what you hope will be a fun dance. “I wonder why you didn’t come see me sooner.”

Kylo falters for a moment, and that’s a rare sight to see, the sight of him biting the inside of his cheek with nerves.

“I wasn’t sure that you’d want to see me…our last meeting did not end as well as I always hope.” He replies quietly, and you sigh.

The last time you had seen one another was nearly two months ago, an agency helicopter swooping down to pick you up from a rooftop shootout in Spain. Kylo had been the one shooting at you that time, and you back at him.

“I know you missed on purpose.” You shake your head, “You have better aim than that.”

Seemingly appeased, Kylo stops right in the middle of the dance floor and turns to face you fully. The music ends and everyone turns to applaud the orchestra. That had been a short dance, so they do not take a break, the conductor murmuring to her musicians and telling them of the next piece.

“Dance with me, just one dance.” Kylo bows deeply before you, and offers a hand.

You do not hesitate to take it.

This piece is slower, much slower. It is heavily piano based, as opposed to the lively strings of the previous music, and you can’t help but wonder if Kylo planned it this way. The crowd thins a little as well, those who had tired themselves out while dancing their hearts away retiring to the sidelines for a new crop of villains to take the floor.

Kylo’s hand is on yours, his other tucked behind his back as you both follow along with the dance. Kylo has always been elegant in his own way, in everything he does, and the dancing is no different. In fact, as the strings begin to swell along with the piano, you feel as though you’re the only two people in the entire castle. You look into his eyes through his thin mask, and he stares into yours, and that is it, it is just the two of you.

Candles glow all around you as you and Kylo walk around one another, as he holds your hand and bows to you, as he never keeps his eyes off of you. In the back of your mind, you know that everyone is watching you. You, the mysterious woman who has shown up to this party, dancing with one of the most notorious and dangerous criminals among them. Who were you to have won his attention? Oh, if only they knew.

“You’re very good at this.” You say softly, so that only he can hear.

“I’ve been practicing.” He admits readily, and you let out a little laugh at that, at the image of him roping one of the Knights of Ren into dancing with him again and again. They’re good sports, supportive of their master, you wonder if they’re here tonight on the dance floor elsewhere, showing off the moves they have had to learn.

“Now that does impress me.” You smile, and he beams.

The piece comes to an end a few minutes later, minutes spent gazing lovingly into one another’s eyes, quirked shy smiles and affectionate squeezes of hands. Once again, like with every other time you’re with Kylo, he doesn’t feel like an enemy. You don’t feel like you’re surrounded by people who want to kill you, you feel…accepted, welcomed, warm.

Those are dangerous feelings for an agent to have about her target, but you have them nonetheless.

“Shall we get out of here?” Kylo asks you discreetly as you applaud the orchestra once the music ends.

You nod, having hoped that the evening would take this turn.

The room he brings you to is lavish, luxurious, gorgeous. It looks as though it’s never been modernized from the time the castle was built, whenever that must have been. A great big canopy bed takes up the majority of the room, red velvet drapes with golden ropes holding them open framing the mattress. You hardly have any time to look at anything else, before Kylo is taking you by the hand and bringing you to it.

You step out of your shoes and follow him, his hands frantically searching for the zipper, the button, the clasps anything that will get you out of these clothes and into his arms, and you laugh fondly at his enthusiasm. He’s so enthusiastic in fact, that he drops down to his knees and crawls underneath your giant skirt, his hands working to unclip your garters, to pull your stockings down, to mouth at your pussy through your underwear.

“Kylo!” You gasp and laugh at how bold he is, “Get up here.”

“Naked, I want you naked. There’s too many layers.” He growls, doing as he’s told. You reach behind yourself for the hidden zipper, and when Kylo finds it too, he gives it a hard yank.

“Don’t you dare rip this dress or I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out.” You snap when the dress protests with a creak, and Kylo only moans.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me baby.” Releasing your dress, his hands instead cup your throat, your cheek, as he kisses you sloppy hot and wet.

You kiss him back, unzipping the gown and letting it fall down your body. You remove your undergarments quickly as he kisses you still, his mouth insistent upon yours, his tongue firm and slick as it slides against your teeth. He’s still fully clothed, and he scowls about it, breaking away to begin shedding clothing of his own.

While he does that, you take the opportunity to climb up onto the bed. It’s massive, it feels like there could be five people fitting easily here, and it is so plush that you sink into it with a pleased hum. A fireplace crackles and snaps across the room, and though you’re naked in this big castle, you’re warm. Even warmer still, when Kylo’s naked body joins you on the mattress and pulls you tight against him.

He’s achingly hard, you can feel his cock brush against your thigh as he kisses you some more, touches you. His hand drifts down between your legs and he dips his fingers into the folds of you pussy, massaging and encouraging your cunt to drip all over him. You reach to do the same for him, but he shakes his head, kisses your jaw.

“Let me eat your pussy, I’ve been thinking about it for months baby, please.” He whispers, and you find that you would rather die than deny him.

“How do you want me?” You reply straight away, and he sucks in a breath, excited, eager, rife with anticipation.

“Sit on my face, right here.” He manhandles you a little until you get the hint, straddling his head, your knees on either side of his ears. He’s got you facing away from him, and hanging up on the wall is a grand ornate mirror in a gilded gold frame. Maybe he doesn’t notice, but you do, as he sighs and licks into you with an, “Attagirl.”

Your pussy throbs around his tongue, his fingers. He keeps two in you, rubbing at the front of your walls, thrusting in and out slowly while he licks and sucks at your cunt. Your nipples stiffen at once, and your hands come up to cup your breasts and give them a squeeze, the sensation going straight to your clit.

“Fuck,” You moan, “Fuck that’s good, Kylo,”

It’d been so long since you’d been pleasured like this, since you’ve had his nose prodding up into you, his fingers curling and crooking inside your body, stretching you, opening you up for what you’re sure will be the fucking of a lifetime when this is done.

You ride his face, hips moving of their own accord, wanting more, seeking more. You stare at your reflection, watch as you rise and lower yourself onto his tongue, how your pussy drools and soaks his chin, how he swallows it down with groans and hums and sighs of his own. You look up, there is a mirror there too, you wonder if Kylo’s able to see himself eating your cunt like this, or if his eyes are shut with pleasure.

“Your dick’s drooling for me.” You manage to sigh, “Let me take care of you Kylo.”

His thighs twitch and his knees bend, hips pushing up at the insinuation. He doesn’t stop licking sucking biting kissing fingering your pussy as you shift yourself forward so you can grasp the shaft of his cock with one hand and wrap your lips around the head that’s oozing pre-come just for you.

“Mmm!” Kylo chokes on your pussy with the first hard suck you give his cock, and you both laugh through it, laughter that turns to moans as he fingers you harder, eats you out faster, a challenge.

You’ve never been one to back down from anything, and you don’t plan on backing down from this. You hollow out your cheeks and work him down down down your throat, until your nose nestles in the thick black patch of hair, your neck bulging out from where you’ve managed to fit nearly all of him.

Bobbing your head, your hands wind around his thighs and stroke at his calves, teasing touches that have him gasping as he buries his face in your pussy.

“Fuck – baby – I’m gonna -- !” Kylo moans and grunts into your pussy as he thrusts his hips up and fucks your throat, wishing he had a hand in your hair to keep your head down, keep you steady.

You pull off him quickly so you don’t choke, just as his come spurts from the head of his cock, landing all over his stomach, the hard firm muscle twitching as you jerk him off, stroking every last drop you can squeeze out.

“God you’re good to me.” Kylo grunts, nearly blacking out when you lean down to lick away some of his come, the flat of your tongue scooping it up off his skin and swallowing it. He smacks your thigh playfully for the effort, makes you whine.

“Fuck it into me,” Your voice is raw, used, but you reach for one of his hands and guide it to the pool of come on his abs. “Make me come on yours, mix it together.”

Kylo does as he’s told, moans into your cunt as he smears his fingers through his own come and pushes them into you, coating your insides with it. He thrusts his fingers hard and fast, until you’re riding his face in earnest to meet his pace, watching through lidded eyes in the mirror as your tits bounce and your body sweats on top of his.

When you come, you drench Kylo’s face, and the slurping sounds that come from his mouth as he swallows you down have you coming even harder, until you’re shaking, thighs trembling, and you have to be moved by him to lay on your side.

“Holy shit I missed this.” You laugh, delirious with bliss, and Kylo only hums in agreement, his cock still hard.

He doesn’t reply, instead shuffling down a little to worry one of your nipples between his lips, his arms wrapping around your middle tight. You sling a leg over his hip and card your fingers through his hair as he kisses and licks at your breasts, the both of you trying to catch you breath, shocks of pleasure rippling through your nerves.

After a while, Kylo’s breathing evens out so much, that you’re not entirely sure he hasn’t fallen asleep with your tits in his mouth. You gently tug on one of his ears and he groans, the kind of groan deep in his chest that only confirms you were right.

“We can’t stay here Kylo, someone will surely find us.” You say regrettably, still very aware of the masquerade ball which continues on downstairs. Music is playing, people are talking and laughing, all of those sounds come seeping back into your consciousness as the post-orgasm glow fades from your mind.

“If they do I will simply tell them to fuck off.” Kylo only holds you tight, nuzzles his face further into your cleavage.

“I know you think you can do whatever you’d like but really don’t you think that’s in poor taste?” You chuckle, amused, twirling pieces of his long dark hair around your finger and giving them a little playful yank.

“Why should it be? This is my castle.” Kylo suddenly is invigorated, and your eyebrows shoot up as he rolls you over so that you’re lying on your back.

Your legs fall open for him, and he easily works his cock into your stretched and relaxed cunt, pussy giving way to him happily, easily. He doesn’t thrust, just holds himself there, holds himself above you as realization dawns across your face.

“…This is yours?” You blink, wondering how you had never known before, wondering just how many other lairs he had.

“Of course.” Kylo leans down to kiss your throat, your jaw, nibbling at your ear. “I threw this party. I wanted to see you.”

Of all the dramatic, theatrical, over the top schemes! You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head and covering your face with embarrassment that you had fallen for such a thing. Surely he knew by now that he could just call you, he didn’t have to go planning something so elaborate.

But – then again, this was Kylo.

Yes he did.

“I hate you.” You grin, and Kylo only takes the opportunity to start moving his hips in earnest, to start fucking you with that never ending stamina he seems to have whenever you’re around, and you laugh, filled with bliss and pleasure as he corrals your legs around his waist, one pushing up his shoulder to get a deeper angle, making you gasp out, “I hate you so much!”

Kylo only grins right back at you, those crooked teeth wanting nothing more than to dig into your flesh, to leave their marks, their bruises in your skin as your mouth falls open and your back arches into his touch. You’re watching yourself through the mirror on the ceiling, and you think that this is a good look, you spread out on the bed under him.

Kylo can tell you’re thinking too hard, and that won’t do, not for this evening. In the morning you can both deal with the fact that you’ve gathered absolutely no intel, that you’re an agent, that you’re the agent – but for now, for now Kylo kisses you, and smiles against your lips as you moan around his cock, and whispers against your tongue,

“Why don’t you close your eyes and hate me some more?”

And you do, except that you don’t.

In fact, you’re sure that after tonight, you’ll never be able to hate him again.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren reader insert #modern kylo ren #james bond au #bond villain!kylo #007!reader #my writing #kylo ren smut

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yichens · 4 years ago

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some heihua for the soul

so the update for Binding isn’t happening today bc my brain is complete mush after trying to aggressively finish my thesis yesterday and i decided to give my brain two days off bc of that. also, i promised @ashenwren some time to beta read the ending part (which they already did but! now i need some time with it myself) so i am leaving everybody to wait until saturday.

meanwhile, i am offering yall a sneak peek/first look at my heihua fic which is very loosely tied to my pingxie. basically, this is just me playing around with hei xiazi as a character and his and xiao hua’s dynamic’s more... tender side.

i know that @jockvillagersonly and ashen have already read this which has been amazing so thank you for your love ♥ but take this again ^^ also thanks to @cross-d-a for listening to me ramble about heihua and sharing this idea with me. and thank you to @i-am-just-a-kiddo who i’m doing all of this for ♥ you are the best parent-in-law for these two and this fandom!

It’s a bad week for him.

First, it’s the girl he finds while raiding a warehouse full of smuggled weapons and possibly, most likely, drugs. She’s maybe twelve, eyes wide and hair messy, bones poking her skin where Hei Xiazi can see her elbows flashing under her short sleeves. There are bruises around her wrists and burn marks on the inside of her arms. She doesn’t speak but she doesn’t have to, all of her screaming of experiences worthy of a hundred years instead of a dozen.

She presses her face into her hands when Hei Xiazi fires his gun, and he feels something come loose inside of him at the broken, aborted noise she makes that rings louder than the shot itself.

Hei Xiazi carries her kicking and screaming out of the warehouse, leaving behind the slowly ending gun fight and the smell of gasoline. She only goes silent once Hei Xiazi puts her down, flinching bodily away from him but not going far. She hovers, fingers slowly curling around the hem of his long jacket while they wait, shoulders hunching against the cold. Hei Xiazi offers her his jacket with a smile, buys her a sandwich which she then throws up, and helps her into a hospital once they’re safe to leave.

No one else stays behind with her. All the other people they found from that warehouse scattered as soon as the fight began and only she remained, lost in the thought of having to leave the premises that had become her world. She has no family, no house, no money. Hei Xiazi watches her leave with the social workers, bones of her wrists like twigs threatening to snap even after some proper meals and eyes so big they seem to swallow the light around her. She still hasn’t said a word. Hei Xiazi doubts she ever will.

Her pale face looks like a ghost as she turns to give Hei Xiazi one last glance over her shoulder, and that’s what she becomes to him once he goes home and puts that warehouse out of his mind. It’s hard and he feels himself haunted, and whatever it was that got loose in his chest rattles like the tail of a snake.

Then, he hears about Su Wan. Hears about the mission that went south with the three youngsters. Hears about Su Wan getting hurt.

It isn’t anything new in their line of business to get hurt, to even die. When he first met the boy in the desert, he predicted he would find him six feet under after only a day. There was too much softness in Su Wan, too much trust, too much naivete. He had a big brain and clever ideas but his core was gooey, leaking out in way too telling bursts, leaving nothing hidden.

Su Wan had reminded Hei Xiazi of young Wu Xie. Even his floundering with his knife had reminded him of Wu Xie. Even his adaptability had been annoyingly similar to Wu Xie’s, and Hei Xiazi had questioned his taste in students. At least the boy had paid better. At least the boy hadn’t been wishing to die.

He had not expected, after knowing all of that, to experience such fear when he first heard that Su Wan had gotten himself stabbed and had almost bled out in a cave, with only Li Cu and Yang Hao to look after himself and a saving bed of a hospital hours away. His hands had shook, making it impossible to hold anything while trying to breathe, and he had quickly been reminded of the little girl, torn open and going a bit feral just because she didn’t know what to do.

It was a surprisingly new thing to care. As surprising as the fact that he still knew of such things.

“I thought I had taught you better, kid,” he says as he goes to the hospital, in the middle of the night of all things, having to cover Su Wan’s mouth so that he doesn’t scream and wake up the better half of the city. The boy’s eyes are wide and heartbeat rapid under his fingers where he can feel it pulsing against Su Wan’s jaw. Then the boy is scrambling at his fingers to speak from between them. He pulls his hand away.

“Hei-ye!” the boy whispers fervently, like an anchor casted in water. “I thought you were out of the country!”

“I was until yesterday when I heard that you got stabbed,” he explains, voice leaning more towards mockery than any actual care. Su Wan knows what that means. The boy knows more than anyone else has ever known about a person like Hei Xiazi. It’s a strange thing but Hei Xiazi has come to almost like it.

“I’m fine!” the boy chirps, lighting up like a lightbulb. Hei Xiazi helps him sit in his bed, snatching a chair for himself from the corner, and then evaluates the damage. Su Wan is smiling while a thick roll of bandages circle his stomach. There are at least thirty stitches there, curving along his side. Some more adorn his bicep where he tried to evade another blade. A darkening bruise is making his cheek swell, casting an extra shadow under his chin.

Hei Xiazi sighs and closes his eyes when Su Wan starts to tell the story, his voice a soft whisper made even softer with lingering sleep. The beep of the machines tell Hei Xiazi the boy is alive. The painful thrum of his own heart tells him he’s alive too.

Su Wan falls asleep holding onto Hei Xiazi’s sleeve. He cannot remember how the boy got the leather between his fingers but prying his hold away is like bending steel. It feels impossible and burns equal amounts.

Finally, he slips back into the cold night.

He doesn’t go to his apartment, the one he’s currently occupying, his few belongings strewn across the floor and nothing making the place feel like his. Even after years and years and years, some part of him still feels sick at the thought of emptiness. He’s tried his hardest to carve his bones empty and chest clean but after each year spent alone or with someone or wanting, he realizes it’s a battle he cannot win. There’s something terribly strong under his ribs. It refuses to die even before his curse of immortality and the knowledge that goes beyond his comprehension. It refuses to die even when facing the cold, cruel world.

The walls surrounding the Xie Manor are high but not high enough to keep him at bay. If they were, he would’ve never come here. He would’ve never returned, not after he once left.

Climbing up the wall of the manor to the third floor makes his lungs burn, but then he’s pushing the window open already, stepping silently onto the polished floor.

“Xiazi,” a familiar voice says, not even pretending to sound sleepy. “It’s three in the morning. Is it really a suitable time to be visiting the head of Xie family?”

Hei Xiazi smiles, shrugging off his leather jacket and placing it onto the back of a chair beside him. The air in the room feels chilly with the window open but he likes to hear the noises from outside and he likes the line of silver painted onto the floor and across the luxurious double bed. He likes that he can pretend his vision is so clear just because of the moon.

“Hua’er-ye,” he says back, voice like honey because he loves to tease this man and loves how the tone makes his perfect eyebrows pinch. “Are you sure this isn’t a dream?”

“I would dream you naked at least, not dripping mud all over my floors.”

“As you wish,” he says and reaches for his own belt before moving closer to the bed, toeing his shoes off on the first two steps.

Xie Yuchen is warm but firm when Hei Xiazi meets his body, crashing into his lips and then slipping hands down his silk covered spine. He hums, hiding his laugh. He’s always loved the absolute brilliance and practicality and strength of this man but under all that, Xie Yuchen is a little spoiled. A rich family head. A powerful man with more money than Hei Xiazi could possibly imagine. He’s never tried, not really caring. For all his acting, he’s never gone for Xie Yuchen for his money.

He takes care of helping Xie Yuchen out of his expensive pajamas, kissing him wet and shivering after each uncovered piece of skin. There is something beautiful about Xie Yuchen in the stark light of the moon, eyes burning bright and the line of his throat like an invitation. Hei Xiazi wishes he could tell him that, sometimes, but he’s preferred to seal his lips. His poetry would not suit the ears of Xie Yuchen.

He’s never been one for pretty words, crude and almost barbaric instead, tongue made out of barbwire and mind of a strategic plan. Between them, all those edges exist in harmony, and so he’s never felt the need for anything more, enjoying the simplicity of just being.

Ironically, as the sun is already rising, coloring the horizon with its colorless light, he still descends into words. It’s like something is pulling them out of his chest, and when there’s a force outside of his control beneath his ribs, he cannot do anything but unravel upon Xie Yuchen’s white satin sheets.

“There was this girl,” he says, looking into the still remaining dark – or as dark as anything can be for his eyes, that comfort taken from him ages ago. “I saved her from a warehouse a couple of days ago. She didn’t speak, couldn’t eat because she’d been kept hungry for so long. There were burn marks on her arms, probably from cigarettes or a lighter. They told me she was thirteen. She didn’t look like she was thirteen.”

Xie Yuchen’s hands are on his back, brushing lightly against his shoulder blades, drawing something there. His heartbeat is steady under Hei Xiazi’s cheek and his skin burns, burns, burns. He remembers how he had looked at that girl in the eyes and seen himself there.

“I remember,” he says quietly, closing his eyes, “feeling the same burn on my skin. I have no memories of when or why but I know there were cigarettes. I know her pain. I know the scars.”

“Were you a child back then?” Xie Yuchen asks, his body a strong, sturdy thing against him. A rock. A mountain. He never thought he would feel lost in this world but there is something about himself in every child he’s ever saved, in all of their wide, fearful eyes, in all of their screams, their desperate fight, their bared teeth and messy heads of hair. There’s something about him in all of their thrumming, wild panic, like a bird under their skin; in their desperation to get away, to find a place to belong, to find safety and food and trust. To heal a body that has not been their own or has felt like an enemy or a liability or a curse.

He cannot remember the time he was a child, cannot remember the time before he went blind and began to see too much, cannot remember being anything but this eternal man on the outskirts of the world. He cannot remember ever having a family or feeling the absence of it.

But then, there’s this echo in his mind. It rings back from the eyes of every child he’s ever tried to help. He thinks, maybe, he still knows how he lost.

“I only remember being burned,” he says. “I only remember the pain and being afraid. And isn’t that a stupid thing to remember when it could be so many things?” He laughs, as much as it can be a laugh when something twists inside of his chest, bringing tightly together that something that was let loose. He chokes on it, feeling his voice die down. Xie Yuchen turns beside him so that they both lie on their sides, looking at each other. The line of the moon falls over Xie Yuchen’s hips and almost lands on Hei Xiazi’s waiting hand.

“Bad things linger,” Xie Yuchen says with a certainty of a man who knows this to be true. During the years, Hei Xiazi has learned a couple of the bad things that happened to this proud man. “But you are turning them into something good.”

“And how much does it change to save a couple of children?” he huffs, tired of the heart that cannot leave him at peace.

“For them, everything.”

#dmbj #the lost tomb #heihua #hei xiazi #xiao hua #all feedback is appreciated i suppose #just wanted to share this here #expect binding on saturday!#enjoy your weekend everybody!!#also yes i will die #for hxz adopting random kids #cross your brain was so lovely #for providing me with this #my fic

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sweetsunflowerkisses · 4 years ago

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the library.

Pairing: Loki (MCU) x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst (??)

Warnings: Implied Character Death , Mentions of Loki’s faked death, Descriptions of falling?, Cannon Divergence, Making a bunch of shit up about Asgardian relationships and Asgardians in general? Angst, Bad writing TvT

Summary: In your final moments you reflect on your relationship with Loki and wish that you could be back at the library with him.

Word Count: 1.9k (It’s kinda short TvT)

a/n: I was rewatching Thor and the first avengers movie and this idea popped into my head and I kinda hate myself for writing it :D Also I’m working on Secret Identities Are Hard To Keep, I promise TvT

Falling. You had always wondered what it would feel like going from a height like this. It was almost euphoric, the wind pushing against your back as you fell, carrying your tears up with it. These were your final moments, you knew that, there was no surviving a fall from this height, not even with the strength provided by the asgardian blood that ran through your veins. So you did what most people did in their final moments, reflected on how you got here.

It all started centuries ago, in the golden palace on Asgard, the place where you were raised as a noble, your father being one of the Allfather’s most trusted advisers. Your memory of those years were riddled with the overwhelming feelings of loneliness, your only company being the vast array books in the palace library. You were lonely until the day you met him.

It was a day like any other, your father was tied up in various meetings with the Allfather and other important asgardians and like always you were camped out in the library. Through the years that you had spent here it had become your safe space and in the very back in a small corner was your place of happiness there was a small emerald chaise lounge with just the right amount of light and all of the books you had ever enjoyed stacked up around it. What you didn’t expect was for someone to already be occupying your oh so sacred spot.

He was stretched out on the lounge, his thin form but tall form draping over the edge a book in hand. You knew who he was of course, you were a noble after all, the dark prince, the forgotten prince, the boy that spent his years in his brother's shadow. In all of your 400+ years you don’t think you had ever seen him so peaceful, so you did what you usually did around people, you turned to leave. What you weren’t expecting was to feel the feather light touch of a hand on your wrist.

You looked up your eyes meeting his soft green ones. You wondered how he knew about this corner, about you and your time here, but pushed the thought aside as your gazes locked. There was something there, an unspoken understanding from one outsider to the other. He smiled softly, pulling a book out of seemingly nowhere and handing it to you wordlessly. You smiled in thanks and watched as he left, his green cape swaying behind him. And that was how it started.

You would have expected falling to be something that was over quickly yet it somehow seemed like the longest moment of your life. You knew you were getting closer though, you could see the tops of other buildings now, so as you waited you went back to thinking.

After that fateful meeting your relationship with the raven haired prince slowly started to change, for nearly fifty years the two of you would simply give each other books you thought the other would like, starting off wordlessly and eventually progressing into bigger and bigger conversations until the two of you would spend hours in the library together, animatedly talking about whatever book you were interested in that day, no doubt blowing off countless responsibilities your fathers had begun to place on you now that you were growing older.

It was around a hundred years after your first meeting that your relationship crossed from friendly conversations to stolen kisses and secret meetings. The two of you were around 500 and 600 now, both preparing for your futures. Loki trained to become both a warrior and a king, despite the limited possibility of him ascending to the throne, and you training alongside Her Majesty the Queen and other female nobles, preparing to become the perfect wife and partner for the next generation of Asgardian nobles. Yet you still found time for each other, spending as much time as you could together, only finding comfort in one another.

It was when the two of you hit 900 and 800 that Loki became consumed by his anger. It was in secret of course, as most of his emotions often were, but his emotions were always something you and you alone had the privilege of seeing. By now you and the pale prince were an official couple, Odin and Frigga having blessed the relationship, allowing Loki to court you and eventually allowing the two of you to biome some form of official, not married, but official enough to be allowed to share a bedchamber without getting odd looks.

In the past Loki had always confessed his anger to you, never allowing it to influence his actions, reveling in the catharsis he achieved by ranting to you as you played with his hair, but now, as he watched his arrogant brother become more and more loved by the people, as he watched his brother be promised the throne despite his hotheadedness and obsession with being a warrior, something within him snapped. Now he would yell for hours on end, often trashing your chambers, rather than his usual soft kisses that were full of love, his kisses were messy, needy and full of all the rage he could never show. It was in everything he did every emotion tainted by the anger that masked the true emotion. But you accepted him, every bit of him and so you did what you could. You matched his energy but also reminded him that you were still there, still there to give him new books, still there to play with his hair and still there for him to lean on.

As you fell your thoughts wandered back to the present, you were nearly there, you could hear the screams below, and you could see the chitauri army and the chaos that they brought with them. You could see the faint outline of Iron Man landing on the tower and your thoughts once again returned to Loki and everything that brought you here.

After the exile of Thor and the era of Loki as King you thought maybe everything would stop, the looks and the whispers that everyone would finally stop treating Loki like he was just a liar and a danger, you yearned for and prayed for the return of the Loki you fell in love with. You were distraught when Thor returned, telling you that Loki’s ascension to the throne was all based on lies, that he had been responsible for the frost giants that had gotten in the palace, that he had tried to kill his friends, that he had tried to kill his brother. And that he was now plotting something far worse. Somehow, as much as you didn’t want to, you knew it was true, but despite everything you knew that your feelings wouldn’t change. So you fought Thor, or at least tried, not being able to actually bring yourself to deal any damage to the god, too overwhelmed with the truth of it all, so you ran. You ran back to the place where it all started, back to the library, back to your corner of safety.

You found out he was dead the next day, Thor sought you out to tell you himself, yet somehow there was the nagging feeling in the back of your brain that Thor was wrong, and boy were you right.

It was 2012 when he finally resurfaced, you had spent most of your days hiding from the asgardian population, from the prying eyes of everyone who figured you had something to do with the events of the previous year. You were once again faced with the fact that your feelings remained unchanged for him, that despite the reality of what he was doing, trying to enslave a whole population you would still do anything for him. It was Heimdall who alerted you of his return, but it was the Queen who convinced you to go to him, to try and bring back the love that you had spent nearly 600 of your years devoted to. So you did.

You landed on the rooftop of Stark Tower, admiring the pretty pattern the bifrost has burned into the gravel. It wasn’t long before Loki found you, after all the Bifrost was kinda hard to miss. It was emotional for you, seeing the man you loved after spending so long thinking he might be dead. You approached him slowly, he rushed to you in return, overjoyed at the sight of you, telling you of his grand plan, inviting you to join him, to be his queen, to rule over Midgard with him. It was tempting and for a moment, just a single moment you considered it. But you refused, nearly begging him to stop the madness, to return to you, attempting to reassure him that no matter what you would still be there, that you would still love him despite the things he’d done in the past few years. You told him how that while you didn’t quite understand everything that you could listen and love him, that you would give him everything the world never did. Yet, it was when you looked up into his eyes that you realised that something was truly wrong, that your prince might truly be gone, rather than the normal green that usually stared down at you a piercing blue met your gaze.

You backed up slowly, this was the man you loved yes but there was something else in him too, something that was evil and corrupting, something you were sure would infect you too if you joined him. And it was backing up that had been your mistake, the platform on top of Stark Tower was by no means small but you had simply landed too close to the edge, and as you stepped back you felt nothing and you began to fall.

Loki lunged, moving faster than he ever had, just barely grasping your left hand in time. And you watched as his eyes flickered in between his green and the unnatural blue and that's when you realised, he was scared. But you were slipping and his grip simply wasn’t enough. You smiled softly, knowing what was going to happen next, tears beginning to stream down your face, and with your last words you simply whispered “I love you.”.

You fell, leaving Loki only clutching air, but then he felt something else as his fist closed around the air where your hand had just been. He knew what it was almost immediately and looked down to find the gold band with a single emerald in it sat in his hand. The ring that had adorned your ring finger for the past three years, the proof that despite it all you loved him. And you smiled.

You knew it was the end now, the sound of cars and people louder than before, and you wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t been in the library that day. With your very last moments you imagined yourself on the emerald chaise, surrounded by books with Loki on your lap, playing with his hair as he read to you and you smiled for the last time

#loki #loki x reader #loki x reader angst #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x y/n #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine

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hs-devote · 4 years ago

Text

i. láthi: the myth

Moodboard * Content * Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

i. the myth

“Fuck me.”

He collapses when he reaches his climax, along with the lady underneath him who's jolting when the pleasure hit them together. Their touched chest panting together, with sweats covering their naked body, confirming whatever activities they're having.

“That was good.”

He chuckles, “Absolutely.”

The man rolls from her, throwing his sculptured body next to the lady. He smiles when he feels the soft fingertips of her caressing his toned chest. He hums, lifting his head to land a kiss on her forehead.

“You're going today?” she mutters, “Why should you?”

“Selene,” he sighs, “Our people couldn't find her and they were too dumb. I can't wait any longer if I know I have more power to find her.”

“Fine then. But, don't take too long. I'll miss my husband so much.” the woman named Selene leans in to kiss her husband neck, “Our bed will missing you too, Harry.”

The man with the name Harry just laughs, twirling her blonde strand around his finger, “No need to worry, darling.”

Selene giggles sweetly as her husband cradles her face and brings their lips to moulded together..

. . . .

Harry feels weird.

It's not his first time being on Earth, but this will be the first time staying longer in the world of human and other creatures. Sure, the Earth is so beautiful but no one can against the beauty of Centauri. Centauri is where he lives, with his darling wife, Selene. Not only lives, but he is also the ruler of the realm, the lord of Centauri and all therein. He is the God of Centauri, and Selene is his Goddess.

The two of them have been married for a couple of years, long before the throne fell on him. Unfortunately, they haven't been given a child which is essential to keep their lineage. Selene is infertile, and that's why Harry has to go down to earth. To find the Goddess of Birth, who has been missing for hundreds years. He wants to ask her help for his wife.

And here he is, in Syracuse. Where everyone believes that the Goddess is somewhere in Italy, and Syracuse is the best prediction because the town was a witnessed the triumph of Centauri. Centauri is the realm that lies between the stars and moon, and cannot simply be searched for – can be found for the rightful creatures. The realm is unbelievable beautiful, a heaven-like, everything is so pure and sacred.

"Why human wears such odd clothes?" he hums, eyes darting from his foot to his chest. He feels weird and a little bit uncomfortable to wearing normal human clothes, everything they wear is so different from what he and his people wear back in Centauri. He used to wear silk, cervelt, or even satin. And when he's on earth, he has to adjust.

"This place is so plain." he averts his gaze around his temporary residence. He rents a cottage near the beach, for him easily return to Centauri at any time. The building is typically Italian country house, with stones wall and wooden door and windows. The things he likes about his temporary residential, it gives him more privacy than he asked. It's not in a remote area yet has traditional features combined with comfort and practicality. Even so, something is missing for him.

Flowers.

Back on his castle, flowers are always in every corner of the room and he's used to it. Flowers symbolize beauty and admiration, reminds him of his darling Selene.

Selene.

It's just a few hours after his arrival but he misses her already. But, in Centauri, it's only been a split second. Yes, the cycle of time in his realm is much longer than on earth. And because he isn't a human, especially a God, his aging is taking a really long time. If he's twenty-eight in human age, in fact, he's hundreds years old in Centauri time. But of course, his looks and physical like exactly a man on his mid-twenties. He's gifted with a beautiful face, perfectly sculptured body, voice as sweet as honey yet deep and firm.

Thinking of the flowers, Harry decides to step out of the cottage and roaming around the town to find a florist. He frowns as his eyes catch an Alfa Romeo Spider in his porch, looking at the vintage car with so much wonder. Even though he lives in a different realm, but he understands how the human worlds work and how human lives in general. That's why he got the car for his mobility.

But this time, he prefers to go on foot.

His green eyes full of wonder and curious, looking at his surrounding where humans doing their activities. But, the view this town got is more exciting to him. He admits how beautiful Syracuse is, even the town is small and the population isn't large. He thinks about inviting Selene to come here one day.

Then, his eyes catching a flower shop not too far from where he's standing right now. The shop looks pretty with so many flowers on their display, and it's the only flower shop near the beach – he guesses. He doesn't think twice and brings his foot closer to the shop. Feeling grateful that he doesn't need to walk far.

The shop is fairly small yet its collection of flowers is quite various. Before he goes inside, he looks at the flowers in the basket. The flowers are quite different with ones in his castle, but they're still pretty. Harry is too awestruck with them to make him unaware of the presence of someone beside him.

“Posso aiutarla, signore?”

He snapped his neck fast, eyes grow wider when looking at the young girl standing next to him. The girl offers him a friendly smile with a bouquet of roses in her arms. For a split moment, he's staring too long at her and makes the girl frowns. Shifting awkwardly, the girl asks him once again.

“Can I help you, sir?”

She speaks English with him, thinking he's not Italian and just a foreign tourist. But Harry just smiles, and pointing out her flowers, “Sono belli.”

“Si,” the girl nodded in agreement, “Grazie.”

"Err, I don't understand Italian that much." he scratches his neck nervously, "But, can I get a bouquet of each sunflower, daisies, and lilies?"

“Sure. Do you want to choose them for yourself or let me choose them?” she smiles, “But, I assure you they're all good.”

He nodded, “I trust you, thank you.”

“Fine. Coming right up.”

"Thanks." His eyes following the girl who just saunters into the shop. Shortly after, the girl comes out wearing gloves with scissors in her pocket. Her hands delicately pick out each flower and put them into the nearby basket.

“Is this the only flower shop in here?” Harry throws a question, eyes looking sharply at her – watching every move she makes.

“You could say that.” she shrugs, “Well, there's one but quite far from here. Not in the beach area, though.”

“Ah, I see.” he nods, “Do you know good places to visit? This is my first time and I don't know where the worth to visit.”

It's obvious Harry doesn't just stay for only a week or so, he needs more than that to find the missing Goddess. And he thinks visiting a place or two won't hurt. He loves to explore places, and it will help him to widen his search area.

Does he know where to find the Goddess?

No, he doesn't.

But, he can feel her if she's close. Also, the Gods and Goddesses have a special hidden mark on them to identify them as the extraordinary creatures.

"Is this your first time in Italy?" she looks at him with her doe eyes, "We have so many beautiful places to visit." then, she continues to pick the flowers.

“First time in Syracuse. But, I've been to Modena and Florence.” he doesn't lie. He went to Modena and Florence a few years ago, but it was just a quick visit. Really quick visit that only a day trip.

“Well, how much days do you have?” she questions him.

“Actually, I'm here for work so... I have much time, I think." he bites his lips, "Does it take many days?"

“No..” she laughs, putting the flowers into the bouquet and tied them up with black ribbon, “If you have a plenty of time, I suggest you visit several places in Sicily, not only Syracuse.”

“Thank you.” he says when the girl handed him his flowers, “But, I think this town is rich with Greek and Roman history. So, it will be more fun.”

"Oh, you're into a history?" she widens her eyes in surprise. Because not many people like a history that much. And finding a handsome man loves historical places, it tickles her a little.

"You could say that." he grinned, then stretches out his hand, "We haven't introduced ourself yet. My name's Harry."

The girl giggles and shakes his hand softly, “Hi, Harry. I'm Y/N.”

Her hand is soft like cotton and makes him wonder what treatment she did have to keep them so delicate. Even Selene's hands are not as soft as her hands. His smile fades a bit when Y/N takes her hand from him, and intertwining her hands together instead. He doesn't know why a disappointment swept over his heart when he lost touch with her. It feels like her hands convey a sense of safety to his soul. He drowns in his reverie too long, until he realises she's looking at him with an arched eyebrow. He blinks his eyes, shaking his head shamefully.

“I'm sorry. How much are these?” he says, looking at the bouquets in his arms like they are his babies.

“That would be €100.”

Harry then dig his pockets, taking out the money and hands her the cash. He politely thanks her before walking back to his cottage.

On the way home, he keeps thinking about the girl. Y/N. He doesn't deny that she's beautiful, charming, and she has something that he feels different. He assumes she's so much younger than him – than his God age and human age of course, and wondering how old is she. Then, he remembers Selene. Selene's human age is the same with him, but sometimes she acts like a few years younger and childish. He wonders if Y/N acts like that too.

He shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away. How could he compare his wife to another woman?

. . . . Flowers are quite essentials for him. And that's why he always buys them every day. For several weeks he's been here, he buys flowers from different shops and of course compares the qualities of each. Short story, he bought a few bouquets from a shop far from his cottage. He liked their flowers, but he didn't like the woman who sold them. She always flirted with him when he tried to pick the flowers, and openly asked him out.

Harry aware very well how attractive he is. And the way his wife keeps telling him how hot he is always being his constant reminder. He remembers when he was single, hadn't taken the throne yet, the ladies on Centauri always thrown themselves on him. Stared at him like he was their delicious prey, like he was the heaven that everyone always dreamt of. He knew they always had his name spoken between their conversation.

He was very cocky and proud of that – at that time. But, when he married Selene, all of them didn't diminish. The hunger stare, their giggly comments about him – it bothered him and Selene very much. However, the time when he took over the throne, those ladies zipped their mouth close. Very aware that they shouldn't talk inappropriately of their ruler.

But, the thing that bothers him more is those who talked about Selene. About her wife being infertile and hasn't produced an heir. Harry knows it annoys Selene more, and that's what brought him down to earth. For one mission.

How is his search been?

Absolutely nothing.

He still couldn't find the Goddess until now. He has arrived at the right place, but it's hard to find one person among the hundreds of thousands of people here. However, he must not give up. He tries to find a clue by going to historical places of the Gods and Goddesses. Time travelling to a few decades back to find any closure. But, it just gives him small pieces of the story.

Thinking about that saturated him a bit. He decides to go out and buying new flowers for his cottage since his last flowers were already withered. Climbing on his car, Harry started the engine and drive away. It only takes ten minutes drive for him to arrive at a certain flower shop. He smiles looking at the open signage hanging on the wooden posts but the girl he wants to see is nowhere to be found. He kills the engine, getting out of the car, and walking to his destination.

His smiles grow wider when his eyes catching the girl who just comes out from inside, holding a toddler in her arms. Is that her kid?

“Hello,” Harry greets her, looking at both the girl and the toddler.

“Oh. Hi, Harry.” Y/N smiles, adjusting the quiet little girl on her hips with both her hand wrapped around the small body, “Looking for some flowers?”

“Yes.” he breathes, “It's peonies and gardenias this time.”

“Good choices. They're still fresh because they just came a few minutes ago.” she nods, “Just a moment, I should take Lola inside.”

“Sure.”

Y/N gives him apologetic smile before going inside. It doesn't take a minute for her to comes out with gloves hand and no the toddler clinging onto her.

“Was that your child?” Harry asks curiously, watching Y/N picks out the peonies and putting them to the basket, “She's beautiful.”

"Unfortunately, no." she answers, "Lola is my friend's daughter. She asked me to babysit her this morning since she had to be out of the town until night. I thought my job is easy enough so I agreed and brought her here. Luckily my co-worker inside didn't mind at all."

“And yes. She's beautiful and such a happy baby. She's just three years old after all.” she adds, “Didn't bother me that much.”

Harry doesn't say a word, he just keeps looking at Y/N who's now putting the flowers together. He thanks her when she gives him the bouquets, then hands her the money.

“I've visited some places, most of them were historical.” he starts, “But, do you know any similar place? I mean, I'm interested with Greek and Roman myths. So, if anything like that I'll be happier.”

"Have you visited the town hall?" she asks back, "They have a lot of historical information about it, and one of them is the myth about Centauri."

Hearing his realm being mentioned makes him stiffened, but he has to play cool. Harry doesn't know if the people now know about Centauri since it had happened centuries ago and it's almost certain that no human has become living witnesses, only Centauri people who still have that memory to this day. Everyone thinks that the legacy of Centauri's victory was from another life.

“Centauri? What's that?”

"I think it's quite similar to Greek and Roman myths. But, everyone believes that Centauri's myth is greater than the Greek and Roman. Rumours say that the legacy of Greek and Roman, were actually Centauri's. Greek and Roman couldn't touch Sicily because it was overpowered by Centauri."

Harry scrunches his nose, “Only Sicily?”

"I guess? Because the rest of Italy was under Greek and Roman's power." she shrugs, "Well, I don't know much since I'm not Italian. But, that's what I heard from my granny."

“Oh, you're not Italian?” he asks in surprise, he doesn't think Y/N isn't Italian because her Italian accent that time was quite impressive. But, if he studies her carefully, he knows she's not.

“I'm English. I moved here since I was eight with my granny.” she chuckles, “That was after the passed of my parents.”

She's an orphan, and only live with her grandmother – he guesses. He feels bad to ask him that question if it would lead to a sad thing.

"I'm sorry about that." he gives her sympathetic smile, "I don't know–"

She waves her hand, "It's okay, Harry. You wouldn't know if I didn't tell you, right?"

“So, you're living with your grandmother? Only two of you?” “Correct.”

“How old are you if you don't mind?”

“I just turned twenty-one last month.”

See, she's much younger than Harry thought. He then nods, “Happy birthday, then.”

"It's late. But, thank you, Harry."

In all of sudden, Y/N co-worker came out from inside with the sobbing toddler on her hips. The toddler's face is wet with tears and pouting mouth.

“Piange perché le manca sua madre." her co-worker informs her and hands her the wailing baby. Y/N thanks her and begin to wipes the wet stains off the baby's face while cooing sweet words, trying to soothe the little girl.

“Va tutto bene, Lola. Andiamo a casa, va bene?” she whispers in Lola's, the little girl, ear. Her palms stroking Lola's back while bouncing her body. For a moment, she forgets Harry who looks at her in awe. Watching the precious scene unfolded before his eyes. He loves how gentle Y/N to the baby and thinking she will be such a great parent someday.

“Lo so, caro. Lo so. Ti manca moltissimo tua madre, sì?” she cooes, “La mamma tornerà stasera. Non preoccuparti. Vuoi giocare a casa mia?”

Harry watching carefully the way Y/N treats the little girl, the sweet gesture and fondness making him thinks about his future when he has children of his own. Thinking how beautiful and complete his life would be with the presence of a child whom not only he is the who craved, but everyone else. A child who would later replace him on the throne.

His lips forming small smile when Lola nods in Y/N's neck, refusing to show her face. She seems unwilling to let go since her tight fists wrapping around Y/N's neck.

“I'm sorry, Harry. I think I'll call it a day and go home. I don't want the customers to be bothered if Lola keeps crying.” Y/N says softly, her hands still stroking Lola's hair.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks hopefully, wanting Y/N to take his offer. He just curious about the little girl and fascinated about the bond between them. He knows she is close with the child, proven by Lola who agreed with her suggestion.

“Oh, don't worry, Harry. I can walk back to my house.”

“Why?” Harry is surprised by what he had just said, sounding so pushy. He hurriedly corrected before it was too late, “I mean, it will be a little inconvenient walking while carrying her. I parked my car not far from here. At least if I give you a ride, you will arrive sooner.”

“Uhm...”

"C'mon." he assures her when she looks a bit reluctant, "Besides, you haven't told me other worth visiting places in Sicily.

“Fine,” her agreement makes him smirks, “Let me take my bag first.”

He nods, letting Y/N take her time to grab her things. It doesn't take too long to her joins him in the front of the shop. She smiles, giving an okay to them to go. On the short walk to his car, Harry stealing glances at the lady next to him. Y/N tries to talk to Lola for the child to not feeling sad anymore. He doesn't realise that he has been smiling at the two of them.

He stops at his car, putting the flowers on the back seat before unlocking the passenger door for her. Y/N climbs into the car and thanking him for closing the door for her. She adjusts Lola in her lap while Harry joins her in the driver seat.

“Nice car, anyway.” she comments as the engine starting to roar.

“Thank you,” he replies while turning the steering wheel, letting the car down the street. Both of them didn't utter a word for the past minutes. If Harry busy behind the wheel, Y/N seems to be enjoying the ride by feeling the afternoon breeze sweeping her hair.

“Looks like you enjoying the ride.” he says softly, looking at her briefly before looking back at the road.

"Mhm, it feels nice to ride along this beautiful coastal with a convertible car." she nods, her head turns to see the beach not so far from here. Then, her head flicks to see him, "Do you know the direction to my home? I only gave you the name street."

"There's a technology called Google Maps," he jokes, "And luckily, I know how to used them."

Y/N laughs loudly, making him laugh too. Somehow her laughter is infectious, and he swears it was the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard. Yet, both of them hurriedly closes their mouth when Lola shushed them. The way Lola pouts her lips makes him gushes, thinking how cute she is.

“Mi dispiace, Lola. Non intendo ignorarti.” Y/N giggles, twirling her dark curls. The little girl just huffs, before cackling loudly because Y/N peppering kisses all over her face.

That makes Harry's heart flutter, seeing how precious a child is and the affection between them. For a moment, he looks at them like they're his family. A feeling of happiness filled his heart just thinking about it. But, he shakes the thought away. He has his wife back at home and will have a child someday.

“So, Y/N.” he coughs, “You just said to me earlier the town hall is a worth visiting place to know the history of Sicily. Where is it?”

“It's near Catacombe di San Giovanni actually, just five minutes walking distance from there.” she responses, “That's a nice place. Unfortunately, not many people come to visit.”

“Y/N, posso avere il gelato?” Lola whispers to Y/N. She just pinches her chubby cheeks, “Quando torniamo a casa, va bene?”

“Perchè non ora?”

“Perché non possiamo fermarci. non vogliamo disturbare Harry, vero?”

Lola slumps her shoulder before nodding softly, leaned back on Y/N chest while playing with her skirt. Harry who's behind the wheel, knows the girl is upset and he couldn't see an upset child. All he does now is, turn the wheel to stop by the ice cream parlor he'd seen before.

“Posso fermarmi un momento. che sapore vuoi?” he questions Lola who just staring at him with her big hazel eyes. She gives him toothy grins, nodding her head quickly makes him worry that it will fall off from how fast she nods.

“Posso avere due misurini di fragola e cioccolato?”

“Lola..” Y/N warns the toddler in her lap. But, Harry quickly shakes it off, “It's okay, Y/N. Just think of me treat you as a sign of our friendship.”

“Remind me to treat you back someday, Harry.” she sighs in defeat, then looking at the smiling child on her lap, “At least she will be better after this.”

. . . . It becomes Harry's habit to buy flowers at Y/N's shop. If usually he would buy them once a week, now he buys them almost every three days. Not only did he keep them fresh, but there was also feeling that would stick in his heart of he didn't see her. And he doesn't know why.

“Harry! Stai cercando Y/N?” Mia, Y/N’s co-worker greets him. She was sorting the withered flowers in front of the shop when Harry came. Harry feels his cheek heated; he nervously scratches his neck.

“Sì. Ma voglio anche comprare nuovi fiori.” he let out a nervous sigh, “Lei �� qui?”

“Compra nastri per un po'. Aspetta solo un momento.”

“Grazie, Mia.”

Not long after, Harry feels a light tap on his shoulder. He smiles finding Y/N standing in front of him with the groceries in her hands.

"Hi, Harry." she grins, "Coming to buy another flower?"

He nods, “I will have three bouquets of baby breath and two bouquets of carnations this time.”

“Sure, wait a minute. I have to put this stuff inside.” She smiles, showing her shopping bags before storming inside. A few minutes later, she comes out with her gloves and scissors, obviously.

“I’m curious. Why do you often buy flowers?” she hums, “Are those for someone special?”

“No,” he answers honestly, “I just happen to like flowers, very much. They’re just pretty and I’m used to having a garden to plant them. Then, when I moved here and I don’t have a garden, flowers in a vase aren’t bad.”

“You’re just a romantic guy, aren’t you?” she teases him while tying the flowers.

“What makes you think like that?” he chuckles.

"Because…" she hangs her word, "It's rare to find a guy who happens to like flowers."

“Then, I’m such a rare guy then.” he wiggles his eyebrow, smiling a bit makes his dimples pop out. For a moment, Y/N thinks it’s cute. Moreover, the way she just finds out that Harry has bunny teeth, it’s just adding his cuteness.

“Cocky much you are.” she laughs, shaking his head. Then, handing him his bouquets, “There you are.”

"Thanks," he whispers then give her the money, "Actually. I came here also to ask for your help."

“Mhm, what is it?”

“About the Town Hall thing. Do you think you can accompany me to go there?” he nervously asks her, “If you don’t mind, of course.”

“When?”

“The sooner the better.”

“All right. I think I can leave now so we can go there faster.”

Harry widens his eyes, doesn’t think Y/N will agree and ask to go right now. To be honest, if Y/N refused him, it would be fine. He just wants to know what the people think about Centauri myth. Since Y/N is a local, she might know a little bit about it and maybe, maybe be able to help him.

“Is that OK? I mean, you’re at work and I don’t want to disturb you.” he asks with concern, “We can leave after you finish your work, though.”

“It’s okay, H. I’m not really working today and just stopped by the shop.” she bites her lips, “Besides, if I can help my friend sooner, why not?”

His heart flutters in awe after hearing that. He doesn't think Y/N considered him as a friend, a friend that happens because of the constant of buying flower. Plus, the way Y/N calls him by a nickname makes his heart stirs.

“Let me return the gloves and scissor and then we can go together.” she winks, then excusing herself before meeting him again. Harry leads the way to where his car was parked, not too far from the shop. He politely opens the passenger door for her, then putting the flowers in the back seat.

“Do I need to tell you the direction or.. you will use the Google Maps thing?” she teases.

He frowns a bit, “Google Maps is okay. But, you can tell me the right direction if the Maps goes wrong.”

“Okay then.” she hums, averting her gaze to the road in front of them. Looking at the beautiful Sicilian scenery. Sometimes, she glances at Harry who seems so focused behind the wheel. Little does she know, Harry is very aware that the girl next to him stealing glances at him. But he chooses to ignore it. Deep down in his heart, he knows she may be attracted to him yet the woman doesn’t want to show that.

“Here we are.” Y/N breaks the silence when they arrive at Town Hall, “You can park in the back of the building.”

Harry just nods, and park the car not far from the entrance. Before getting out of the car, they're quite surprised at the number of visitors that day – much more than usual, according to Y/N. Then, both of them close the door simultaneously and admiring the architecture. The building looks more like a cathedral, thick with gothic nuances and looks majestic. Y/N guides Harry inside and begins to stroll around inside. Of course, Harry goes straight to where the diorama of the Centauri myth is. His eyes catching a few illustrations that he admitted the truth while the people consider them a myth only.

The illustrations are where the Gods and Goddesses came to Sicily, built a civilization, and leaving it as dust when humans crossed their lines.

He doesn't realise he was staring at it for too long and deeply felt it while Y/N stands beside him.

“Harry.” she softly tugs his jacket sleeve, making him jolts and snaps his head to her. Looking at frowning Y/N.

“Uh, yes Y/N?” he scratches his nose, “I’m sorry I was daydreaming.”

“You look very carried away with the illustration.” she looks at him full of wonder, “You really like history, huh?”

“Actually, I think they missed one thing.” he deadpans, “Have you ever heard the myth of a missing Goddess?”

“What?” she blinks, frowning deeply.

“The missing Goddess of Birth. The myth said that the Goddess left Centauri and is believed to be in disguise among the Italians.” he exhaled, “I’ve heard if that myth but it looks they don’t have the illustration.”

“Well, after all it was just a myth, Harry. Some people believed it, and some didn’t.”

“But, do you believe it?” he challenges her, “The Centauri and myth?”

“I don’t know,” she jogs her shoulder, “But, if it was real, Centauri must be beautiful. The real, the people, everything… they’re believed to be between the moon and the stars.”

“If that was true,” he trails off, “Would you like to see Centauri?”

“Maybe. If I had the chance, though.”

Harry nods, assuming that she doesn’t know about the missing Goddess. Well, he could see a little when it happened. The Goddess had indeed disappeared, and she is, in fact, in Sicily. But, where should he look? Albeit he can sense the presence of other Gods, Goddesses, or Centauri people, it still complicated for him. He doesn’t want his mission in Sicily to be wasted, and he was thinking of getting to something as soon as possible.

Then, it happens.

He senses Centauri people nearby. Who sent them? What are they doing here?

"I think we should go now, Y/N." he murmurs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, "I'm done, and it was mind-blowing. Maybe I'll look for another theory somehow."

“Why do get so attached about the Centauri thing, Harry?” she asks while exiting the building, “Is that interesting?"

"Like I've told you before, I just like.. history." he brushes her off, helping her to hop on the car. He hastily starts the engine and leaving the building behind before the Centaurian finds him. He doesn't like the idea of him and Y/N get caught. They will tell his wife and he doesn't want that.

Harry doesn't hesitate to drive Y/N home while the girl refuses politely, doesn't want troublesome him. Well, she gives up after all since Harry is so adamant.

He gives her a small smile when she thanks him for the ride, and drifts away from her porch after that. It doesn't take long to arrive at his cottage, he drives pretty fast and the road was quite clear that day. Then, he is surprised by a familiar voice greets him when he opens his door. A few feet from him, someone he hasn't seen in a while standing with arms wide open.

“Selene?”

“My darling, Harry.” the lady sighs happily, jogging towards him and hugs him tightly. Harry has no idea why does Selene come to see him? Is there something wrong back in Centauri? Then, he remembers the Centaurians he sensed in the Town Hall. Was it his wife? But, he could tell right away if it was her. Did Selene send them away?

“Hi,” he breathes, pulling away from her to kiss her full lips. “What are you doing here?”

“Missing my husband so much,” Selene giggles, “I know it’s only a few days, but…”

A few days? Oh well, it's a few weeks for him. Excuse the different cycles of time between Earth and Centauri.

"Are you going to stay for a while here?" he asks even though he knows what's her answer. Selene never likes Earth and humans, she always looks down on them, thinking they're lowly creatures. Being the Goddess she is, especially as the wife of Centauri's ruler, makes her feel superior and nothing nobler than Centaurians.

“Why should I?” she rolls her eyes, “Sometimes I wonder why you volunteered to come down to Earth even I know what’s your mission. But, still…”

“Selene..” he sighs, “We have discussed this, right?”

“I know, I know.” she pouts, “Let’s just forget that. This place looks nice, anyway.”

“This is your first time complimenting human building, you know?” he teases him while stroking her soft cheeks, “But, yes. This is the nicest in all of Syracuse.”

“Where’s your bedchamber?”

“Why? Do you want to take a rest?”

“No,” she hums seductively, “I just miss you terribly,” then she tiptoed, bringing her mouth to his ear, “And it aching me down there.”

Oh...

Harry unconsciously bites his lip when Selene sucks his skin below the ear, and he is sure it will leave a mark from how hard she sucks them. Not need to think twice, he scopes her body and brings them towards his bedroom. He hasn't had sex since his arrival in Syracuse and it makes him giddy. After all, he also missed his wife even that feeling was sometimes replaced by the presence of Y/N in his new life here.

unedited.

share your thought with me, here.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #god harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #romance #fanfiction

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simonfarnabyslegs · 3 years ago

Note

please tell us about your ghosts ocs!!

!!!!! so i have a uquiz i made a few weeks back that includes some of them, but the summaries at the end aren't completely detailed. i may update it to include the others.

i thought i had ten, but i actually only have 9 in all. they are:

marcus

period: roman

age: 40s

occupation: military guard

cause of death: stabbed by an intruder

summary: he's basically an ancient roman himbo. he's not very smart and was way too nice for his job. at button house, he spends most of his time outside or on one of the lower floors, but sometimes ventures upstairs to spend time with the other ghosts. the captain may or may not have a crush on him, kitty definitely has a crush on him, and mary Does Not Understand why, and makes sure to voice this opinion often.

outfit/appearance: dressed in a roman soldier's uniform with a stab wound at his neck near his collarbone.

face claim: either simon or jim. i keep flipflopping back and forth for various comedic reasons.

ingrid

period: viking age

age: 30s

occupation: farmer, previously a warrior

cause of death: poisoned by a neighbour over a land dispute

summary: ingrid is fairly intimidating as a result of her tall stature and slightly grumpy personality. her husband arne haunted button house alongside her for a while but moved on sometime during kitty's childhood. since then, she has been somewhat reclusive, keeping to herself and only leaving her room to venture out into the woods near the house on certain nights (mary suspects it's for some witchy ritual or other, but really she's just going to visit the places where she and her husband and children were buried). despite her reclusiveness, she is good friends with humphrey and she likes to play games and sing songs with jemima sometimes. julian once tried to flirt with her and she gave him such a look that he's still terrified of her to this day.

outfit/appearance: ingrid wears a long, brown dress with a golden yellow pattern embroidered down the front and at the hem of her sleeves. she wears black eye makeup and her hair is long and hangs loose, with a few small braids throughout, tied off at the ends with little glass and metal beads. she wears several bracelets and rings. she shows no outward signs of her death except for a bloody splatter on the inside of her left elbow.

face claim: ragga ragnars

arne

period: viking age

age: 30s

occupation: farmer

cause of death: poisoned by a neighbour over a land dispute

summary: ingrid's husband who died at the same time as her and who haunted button house for a few hundred years before moving on some time during kitty's childhood. none of the later ghosts know much about him other than that robin thought he was funny and his moving on is what caused ingrid to separate herself from the rest of the ghosts.

appearance: i haven't really decided yet since in the stuff i'm writing, he's only ever mentioned briefly by robin and mary and has never actually made an appearance. maybe some blood in his beard or on his shirt, like with ingrid.

face claim: again, haven't decided.

virginia, or "ginny"

period: early stuart

age: 40s

occupation: noblewoman

cause of death: smothered in her sleep with a pillow

summary: ginny is humphrey's niece who inherited the house after his death. she never knew him in life and thought poorly of him because of the supposed circumstances of his death. when she met him shortly after her death, she still didn't like him, but eventually decided he wasn't as bad as she thought he would be and is friends with him now. she likes listening to his stories while they sit or go for walks in the garden. fanny suspects ginny's husband was the one who killed her, but robin, who was downstairs when it happened, says he saw one of the maids going upstairs after everyone else had gone to bed and then coming back down a short while later.

appearance: she died while she was asleep, so she wears a long, white smock or nightgown and her hair hangs loose and is not styled.

face claim: alice lowe

peter

period: late victorian

age: 40s

occupation: groom and horse trainer

cause of death: dragged and trampled by a spooked horse

summary: peter worked at the house during george's youth and the early years of his marriage to fanny. he was killed sometime in the 1890s when one of the stable boys purposefully spooked a horse he was exercising. he and fanny knew each other distantly in life as they had several years in common at the house, but they were never really close in life as she was the wife of his employer. peter is irish and working class, so he and fanny don't really have very much in common at all, but they do get along fairly well as ghosts (though not as well as fanny and the captain).

appearance/outfit: a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, a black waistcoat, and black-and-grey plaid pants, dirty from being dragged through the horses' exercise track.

face claim: andrew scott

lizzie

period: 1920s

age: 20s

occupation: maid

cause of death: tripped going down the stairs to the basement

summary: lizzie was a maid who worked at the house in the 1920s. one evening, near the end of her shift, she was going down to the basement to retrieve some clean sheets from the laundry room when she tripped and fell, hitting her head. the plague ghosts were the first to welcome her, and while she was frightened at first and they backed off, a couple of them decided to stay with her and try to help her understand what had happened. she still didn't believe it, even when another maid came downstairs and discovered her body and she watched as it was taken away. she only ventured upstairs a few times over the next couple of decades while the people she knew and worked with were still in the house because it made her sad to see them, but eventually made her way upstairs to stay. she was friends with mary and annie (until annie got sucked off).

appearance/outfit: medium height, straight reddish hair tied back in a bun, black maid's dress.

face claim: saoirse ronan

ron

period: 1930s

age: 30s

occupation: musician

cause of death: electrocution

summary: ron was the cousin of the wife of the lord who owned the house. he was also a musician and was invited to provide entertainment at a party hosted at the house. however, he was electrocuted while helping set up some of the sound equipment (which may or may not be robin's fault). thomas does not like him and views him as a threat, but ron couldn't care less because most of thomas's concerns are unwarranted. ron still writes songs sometimes and tries to teach them to alison for her to write down for him and/or sell them to make money for the house, and he's very good, but due to her lack of musical ability and understanding, it never seems to work. alison downloaded some music composing software onto her laptop for julian to work with him on it, but julian is even worse at music, and because julian can only work slowly, it takes ages and they end up arguing a lot.

appearance/oufit: tall and thin with dark hair that was once neatly combed but now, due to his electrocution, has a habit of standing up no matter how much he tries to smooth it down. he wears a maroon sweater vest over a white button down and black slacks.

face claim: dev patel

johnny

period: late 1960s

age: 50s

occupation: unemployed writer and amateur musician

cause of death: drugged and beaten by some men at a party

summary: johnny is very friendly and laid-back. his main fault is that he is much too trusting and hardly ever suspects anyone of doing anything wrong, which he comes to realise is what probably got him killed. the other ghosts don't always keep him in the loop about what's going on in the house, so he often gets left out of activities and spends a lot of time alone or with humphrey (if he can manage to stumble upon him). he's scared of the plague ghosts because they were the first thing he saw when he "woke up," and much like alison, he thought they were zombies or a drug-induced hallucination. sometimes gets up to Shenanigans(tm) with robin and/or julian.

appearance/outfit: he is a shorter, heavy-set man with dark greying hair. he wears a multicolour striped cardigan over a white shirt and jeans, and his clothes are somewhat dirty from the altercation which led to his death.

face claim: michael sheen

jessica

period: 2000s

age: 17

occupation: none

cause of death: undetermined

summary: jessica is a teenager who died in 2004 at a sleepover. she loves music and dancing, so of course she and kitty are great friends. she has a small crush on thomas. i haven't really thought much about her cause of death; i just think it would be interesting to see a ghost from the 2000s because you never really hear about that sort of thing.

appearance/outfit: bright pink pajamas with purple polka dots, blue fuzzy slippers, and messy looking bun pigtails.

face claim: saoirse-monica jackson

#asks #anons #my ocs #ghosts ocs #bbc ghosts

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 5 years ago

Text

I used to be seventeen.

Character: Steve Rogers x Tall!Reader – High School AU

Summary: Steve Rogers doesn’t think fondly of his teenage years. Well, there was one thing he did remember fondly – or, more specifically, one person.

Word Count: 4,300 - One Shot

Warnings: Bullying, homophobic themes

Steve always hated coming back home. Yes, he loved seeing his mom and friends. But even the glamour of the holiday glow couldn’t get rid of the bitterness Steve held for his hometown.

He didn’t know how Bucky convinced him to meet him at the one of the town’s few bars. But there he was, walking into the divey establishment. To be fair, it did feel cozy with all the wood and the hundreds of Christmas lights that probably had nothing to do with the holiday season.

Steve was grateful when he spotted Bucky at the bar, not wanting to be the first to arrive.

Before he made it to Bucky, he felt someone jump on his back in an involuntary piggyback.

“Who could this possibly be?” Steve joked when he heard the giggle in his ear.

They jumped down, and he turned to find Rebecca Barnes smiling up at him.

“Stevie! I haven’t seen you since last Christmas! What the fuck?”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “I believe Bucky and I have both invited you to New York multiple times.”

“I know. I know. It’s just hard getting enough days off of work to make the trip from San Francisco worth it.”

“I hear ya,” Steve said as he pulled her in for a proper hug.

They both made their way to Bucky and ordered some drinks.

Bucky and Steve had both lived in New York City after college.

Steve had gone to SAIC in Chicago for art school. Bucky had gone to Columbia for engineering.

They both hated the 4 years where they were apart. Bucky told Steve that he would love New York City and convinced him to move into a place in Brooklyn together after college graduation.

Bucky enjoyed going home to their small town. It didn’t hold the bad memories for him like it did for Steve. It was all healthy nostalgia and a place of comfort to him. He had been popular, a jock. Even though he was smart and nice to everyone, he was a golden boy at their high school.

Why Bucky ever befriended him was still a mystery to Steve.

Steve’s high school experience was rather different. His puberty was delayed. He was short and scrawny. He preferred the arts over sports. He was on the shyer side. All of these things mixed together apparently made him an easy target for the bullies. Not even his friendship with Bucky Barnes could save him.

It hadn’t usually happened in front of Bucky. And if it did, he stopped it countless times. But no matter how hard he tried, Bucky couldn’t put a stop to the bullying completely nor could he be Steve’s full-time body guard.

That time was past Steve now.

But he still hated coming “home.” Besides his mom, there was nothing left for him in this stupid town. The only people he stayed in contact with from that time were Bucky and Rebecca, and he lived with Bucky now.

“We’re doing tequila shots!” Rebecca cried out.

“Dear God, Becs. Calm down,” Bucky groaned.

“Nope! The three of us haven’t been together in forever. We must get properly wasted. Tis the law.”

Bucky gave Steve a look and just shrugged with a smile. It wasn’t like they had to work tomorrow. It was Christmas Eve and they were technically both on vacation for the holidays for the whole week.

An hour later, Steve was happily buzzed. Rebecca was talking to friends she had kept in touch with after high school. Steve and Bucky kept to themselves. Every so often someone would come over and say hi to Bucky.

No one said hi to Steve.

He couldn’t figure out if it was because they didn’t care to or because they legitimately didn’t recognize him.

Steve was a different person since high school. He finally had his growth spurt during his freshman year of college, now standing at 6’1. And it seemed his body decided to actually hold a few pounds instead of keeping his frame stick thin. On top of that, Steve started taking his health to a new level. Bucky would tease him that he looked more like he was a Big 10 football player than an art student. The beard probably didn’t help his past peers from recognizing him either.

Bucky was in the middle of telling Steve about his most recent date when the bells chimed, signaling a new person entering the bar.

Steve did a double take when he instantly recognized her.

He swore his heart dropped to his stomach.

Bucky caught his friends expression and how he was staring over his shoulder. He quickly turned around to see what Steve was gawking at.

“Oh, Jesus,” Bucky muttered under his breath.

Y/F/N Y/L/N.

Steve would never forget her name, even with his passionate efforts to forget all of high school.

There was a cry of cheers from a group of girls at her arrival. Steve recognized them as her friends from back in the day. They were some of the few people that hadn’t harassed him. They seemed to pity him…just like she had.

Y/N looked amazing.

She stood out for multiple reasons. The first being her height. But Steve noticed she wasn’t slouching like she had in high school, always trying to make herself appear smaller and getting down to everyone else’s level. Now her shoulders were back and her head was held high. Then he noticed the heeled booties. She had never even considered wearing heels when she was in high school. Now she wore them proudly.

The second reason was her clothes. They were far too stylish for their small, close-minded town. But she didn’t seem to notice the second glances or the judgmental looks.

The final reason was because she was beautiful. At least, Steve had always thought so. Turned out, even after 10 years, Steve’s heart still beat a little faster when he saw her.

“You’re staring,” Bucky pointed out.

Steve cleared his throat and forced himself to look away from Y/N as she hugged all of her friends and had a beaming smile.

“Shut up,” he muttered as he took a big gulp of his drink.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” Bucky asked with a mischievous smirk.

“As if she’d even remember me…” Steve mumbled.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Bucky didn’t push him more and kept talking.

But Steve was thrust back into memories he hadn’t repressed for quite some time. But seeing Y/N just thrust them to the forefront of his mind.

———————

Steve was struggling to put all his sketches back in his folder as he rushed through the halls. There were just a few finishing touches that needed to be made on one of them when the bell rang. Now he was going to be late to his next class.

He was about to turn the corner when someone slammed his books and folders out of his grasp. His jaw dropped as he saw dozens of his loose sketches go flying around the hall.

He looked up to see his assailant.

Brock Rumlow.

Next to him was his best friend, Jack Rollins, and a few of the other guys on the football team.

Steve ignored them and crouched down to pick up the papers, taking the higher ground for once. He wasn’t in the mood and he didn’t want to get another tardy. Nor did he want to get another detention for fighting.

But Brock wasn’t letting him go so easily. He crouched down and picked up a drawing. It just happened to be one of Bucky. Steve had asked him to sit for him a couple of weekends to practice his portrait drawing skills.

“Fucking Christ! You really are in love with him. I don’t understand why Barnes lets your gay ass hang out with him,” Brock growled before ripping the drawing into pieces.

Then he picked up another one, it was of a woman. But just her lips and down to her clavicle. Steve prayed Brock wouldn’t recognize who it was based off of. He should, if his crush on Y/N was as strong as he pretended it was. In Brock’s mind, she belonged to him despite her never reciprocating the feelings.

Steve didn’t want that one to get ripped up.

He lunged forward, trying to grab it from Brock’s grasp.

This was exactly what Brock wanted. He picked on people he knew he could beat to make himself feel strong.

Before Steve could even tackle Brock to the ground, he pushed Steve to the ground so hard that Steve’s head slammed back onto the hard tile, even blinding his vision for a moment.

“Is that a fucking joke, Rogers?” Brock laughed at him

Then he reached for Steve’s collar and pulled him onto his feet again.

“You really think you could even land a hit on me?” Brock whispered. He raised his hand to hit him, most likely in the gut. Brock seemed to like watching Steve keel over in pain.

“Brock!” A voice screamed from behind Steve. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Steve stopped breathing when he recognized the voice.

Y/N.

“What?” Brock asked innocently and immediately let Steve go.

“I saw what you did,” Y/N accused, making sure to put herself between Steve and him.

“He was asking for it,” Brock shrugged. “He was walking to class, asshole.” She glared at him. “Just because your shit got rocked on the football field last game doesn’t mean you can just take out your embarrassment and anger on another person.”

“Whatever,” Brock rolled his eyes and then walked away with his friends. But he gave Steve a final glare that said, ‘You’re lucky this time.’

Y/N finally turned to look at Steve. “Are you OK? I saw how hard he shoved you.”

“I-I’m fine,” Steve stuttered.

“Are you sure? Maybe you should go to the nurse. I really think you could have a concussion.”

But Steve just shook his head.

Y/N sighed but didn’t continue arguing. Instead, she started helping him pick up all his papers.

“You’re really good at drawing,” she said as she looked at a portrait of his mom before handing it to him.

Steve blushed. “Thanks.”

The bell interrupted them.

“Shit,” Steve cursed under his breath. “I’m gonna be late again.”

“What class are you going to?” She asked.

“Math.”

She bit her lip. “With Foster?”

He nodded.

“I’ll walk you there.”

Before he could protest, she grabbed one of his folders, the one with all of the drawings and started walking towards Mr. Foster’s classroom.

The class had already started when they walked in.

Steve’s cheeks blushed once again as all eyes in the classroom went to him and Y/N.

“Y/N, what brings you here?” Mr. Foster asked pleasantly instead of reprimanding Steve for being late once again.

“I ran into Steve in the hallway – literally. I made a mess of his papers and was just helping him pick them up.”

Steve watched as she gave him a shy smile and played up her guilt.

“Well, that was nice of you,” Mr. Foster said.

Steve went to his seat before he could remind his teacher that he wasn’t on time. He looked up at the doorway to give Y/N a thankful look, but she had already disappeared and the door was slowly closing.

And that wasn’t the last time she saved him from bullies.

The next time was a month or so later. It wasn’t Brock that time. He’d learned not to pick on people while Y/N was present. He knew he’d never gain her affections that way.

This time it was one of his lackeys.

“Hey, Rogers? Can’t find any clothes that fit you properly?”

Steve ignored him.

“Have you tried looking in the little boys section? Maybe try Babies R Us!”

That didn’t make Steve turn around. What made him turn around was the sound of someone being shoved into the lockers.

Steve whipped around, fully expecting Bucky to be his savior.

Instead it was Y/N, who had her forearm crammed against his bully’s throat. Y/N was towering over him. She was taller than most of the boys in their school. But somehow no one picked on her for it.

“What the hell?” The kid said, struggling to say words with the pressure on his throat.

“I hear you pick on him again and I’ll make sure the whole school sees me kick you in the dick,” she told him.

Steve was stunned, convincing himself he was imagining all of it.

But the kid nodded his head.

Y/N knew none of the guys would ever hit a girl. Even if they wanted to, she was taller and probably stronger than most of them. So she used that privilege to her advantage.

She let him go. A group of her girlfriends laughed at the bully as she returned to them. Before she disappeared down the hall, she gave Steve a small, reassuring smile.

Steve wondered if she felt the same way about being tall as he felt about being short. Maybe that’s why she felt the need to defend him.

But Y/N’s attention toward him didn’t stop there.

Steve wouldn’t consider them friends. But Y/N did acknowledge him at school quite frequently. If she managed to meet his gaze, she’d give him a little smile and maybe a wave.

When Bucky caught on, Steve waited for him to tease him about it, since Bucky could tell Steve’s crush immediately. But he gave Steve his space and they never really fully talked about it. It was just known from then on.

————

Steve’s mind raced through all his memories like flashes. But then it seemed to settle on the last time he ever talked to Y/N.

————

It was the night of prom.

But Steve wasn’t there.

Bucky begged him to tag along with him and his date. But Steve knew Dot would not be fond of that, despite her forcing a smile and nodding when Bucky recommended it.

So Steve decided to go to a coffee shop. It was one of the few places he liked in their stupid town. It was open late and had plenty of space. Every once in awhile, he’d go there to just sketch or read. It was just an excuse to get out of the house and go somewhere.

Now he sat at in his usual corner that had good lighting and a bigger table, which was good for drawing.

Steve was listening to music, drinking coffee, and sketching away.

But for some reason, a new patron coming in made him look up.

He did a double take when he recognized Y/N.

She walked in and looked a bit like a tomboy. She was wearing boyfriend jeans, a graphic tee, a baseball hat, and a zip-up with the hoodie pulled up. Yet Steve recognized her immediately.

He tried not to stare, but definitely wasn’t successful. He watched as she ordered a latte and two chocolate chip cookies.

Why wasn’t she at prom?

She turned and her eyes were going around the coffee shop, trying to find a table she wanted. That was when she spotted Steve.

With her latte and cookies in hand, she slowly made her way to Steve.

“Hey,” she said quietly with a smile, as if not to disturb the few other customers.

“Hi,” he responded.

For the first time, he didn’t feel ridiculously nervous talking to her.

“Do you mind if I sit for a bit?” She asked.

Steve was shocked.

“You can say no. I won’t be offended,” she laughed.

“N-No, of course. Please, sit.”

She smiled and sat down.

“Shouldn’t you…uhh…be at prom?” Steve asked shyly.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh. “Well… no one asked me.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. That seemed impossible. “That can’t be true.”

She rolled her eyes will a smile. “Think about it, Steve. Yeah, I have some guy friends I could’ve gone with…but they all have girlfriends.” She took a sip of her latte. “It’s fine. I don’t really like dances. I only really like the whole dressing up part.”

Then she looked down at her tomboy outfit and started laughing. “Not that you would know by how I’m dressed right now. I look like a little boy.”

Steve smiled. “No, you don’t. You always look beautiful.”

Y/N sat up straighter, completely taken by surprised from his compliment. Steve shifted in his seat and dipped his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” she replied with a grin.

He let out a sigh.

“So, why aren’t you at prom?” She countered.

“Ummm…doubt anyone would’ve said yes if I had asked,” he mumbled.

Y/N squinted at him.

“What?” Steve asked.

“You do realize that you’re like the sweetest guy in our grade, right? I know so many girls who didn’t get asked that would’ve loved to have gone. And they would’ve been more than happy to have gone with you, too.”

Steve blushed. “Whatever you say.”

Y/N then looked around them shyly. “Do you mind if I just stay here and read my book? I won’t bother you. You can just keep drawing.” Then she smiled at him. “Again… you can say no and I won’t be offended.”

“No, no, no,” Steve quickly said. Then he winced. “I mean, ‘no, I’m not going to tell you no.’ Not ‘no to your offer.’”

Y/N smirked at his fumbling.

So the two of them sat together in a comfortable silence. Y/N read her book and Steve continued his drawing.

He wanted to ask her a million things. He wanted to get to know her. The real her, not the the person everyone at school thought she was. But this – this whole just appreciating each other’s quiet presence was nice too. Steve didn’t know how to explain it, but it made him think it was more meaningful than asking her a million questions.

At one point, she pushed her plate toward him, silently offering him her other cookie.

That was the last time Steve talked to her.

He saw her at graduation, but they were never close enough for any sort of interaction. She was surrounded by her friends and family. He was just with his mom and the Barnes family.

————

And that was it.

They both went off to college and Steve never saw her again.

Until tonight.

The bar got a bit more crowded. But Bucky, Rebecca, and Steve stayed in their little area. Every so often, Rebecca and Bucky would get pulled into other groups of old friends, but they’d always find their way back. Steve didn’t mind.

It was towards the end of the night when Steve went to the bar to get another round of drinks for them. He was very happily buzzed. The miserable feeling of being back in his childhood town was just a bit weaker – for the time being.

“I don’t know why I expected you to come over and say hi. You always were so shy.” A voice said beside him.

Steve quickly turned to find Y/N leaning on the bar waiting for his attention.

“Hi,” was all he managed to blurt out.

“Hi,” she laughed. “I gotta be honest: I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Her eyes went up and down, taking in his tall frame. She used to tower over him. Now, even with her heels on, he was just a tad bit taller than him.

He chuckled awkwardly, never knowing what to say when people noted how much he’d physically changed.

“Can I make up for it by buying you a drink?”

She smirked and nodded. “You may.”

They chatted for a bit, friendly banter. Before Steve could use Rebecca and Bucky’s drinks as an excuse to leave the conversation, Becca practically came skipping over to take them away and return to her brother. She gave Steve a look that said, ‘Don’t you dare try to leave this conversation, idiot.’

“So what are you doing now? Where do you even live?” She asked Steve.

“New York. I’m an artist,” he decided to keep it generic.

“No way. I live in New York, too.”

Steve paused. “No shit? I’m in Brooklyn – Williamsburg, actually.”

“Ahh… Well, that would explain why we’ve never run into each other. I’m in Nolita.”

“So trendy,” Steve teased. “Though, I’m not surprised.” Then he gestured towards her outfit.

She acted offended. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You were always stylish. Nolita suits you. It’s a compliment, I promise. What do you do for work?”

She hesitated for a second. “I’m a stylist.”

“No shit,” Steve said in awe. “Like celebrities or…?”

“Yeah, a lot of celebrities, actually. They’re pretty much all of my clientele.”

“I’m sure you’ve got some crazy stories,” he pointed out.

She laughed and shrugged.

“You seeing anyone?” Steve asked then. “In New York, I mean.”

It didn’t feel awkward or forced, just like it was the natural next step in their conversation.

Y/N winced slightly and sighed. She didn’t look him in the eye. “Being a tall, successful, and independent woman doesn’t exactly have men lining up in New York City…”

Before Steve could say anything, Y/N laughed. “It’s like prom all over again,” she joked.

But he wasn’t laughing exactly. “Well then, I think the same thing I did that night at the coffee shop.”

She tilted her head. “And what’s that?”

“Men are fucking idiots. All of them.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Even you?”

“Oh, me more than any of them.”

“What! Why would you say that?”

Then his laughter died down and he took a sip of his drink, a little liquid courage. “Because…if I had known no one had asked you to prom, I would’ve taken you – in a fucking heartbeat.”

“You didn’t know,” she pointed out in a sigh. “But you did know so many other girls who didn’t have dates.”

He shook his head. “They weren’t who I wanted to go with.”

Her smile dropped ever so slightly, catching on to what he was trying to say.

Y/N cleared her throat. “We probably shouldn’t live in the past. It’s not like it would do us any good.”

“But I’m the same person,” Steve challenged suddenly.

She looked at him, waiting for him to say he was joking. “You’ve probably changed more than anyone we went to high school. I mean, look at you!”

Y/N grabbed her coat and Steve stood up without thinking and helped her back into it. The gesture seemed to catch her off guard.

Then they realized how close they were standing to each other because of it.

“You didn’t ask me,” Steve said quietly.

Her eyes flickered from his eyes down to his lips without meaning to. “Ask you what?”

“If I was seeing anyone…”

She sort of scoffed at the idea. “I’m sure you’re seeing many people, Steve.”

“That’s not even remotely accurate,” he chuckled lowly.

Her eyes softened then. “You’re one of the good guys, Steve Rogers. And sadly, the older I get, the more I realize how few of you there really are in the world.”

Steve didn’t know how to respond to that.

A beat passed between them. It was filled with opportunity. Make a move, a part of his head was screaming at him. No, don’t be an idiot, was the other part.

And then the moment passed just as quickly as it arrived. And Steve missed his chance.

“Well, it was really nice seeing you again,” she told him.

“You too, Y/N.” He blinked. “Here, let me get you an car home.”

“Oh, you don’t–”

“If I hadn’t been drinking, I’d drive you myself,” he cut her off before she could actually argue.

5 minutes later, he was closing the passenger door for her and he watched the car drive away.

When he walked back into the bar, Bucky and Rebecca were giving him a sympathetic look. They already knew he let her go without trying. Because they knew him better than he knew himself sometimes.

“Don’t,” he warned them both.

“I think…we should do another round of tequila shots!” Rebecca announced.

“Fine. But then we’re going home before I have to carry you back home over my shoulder,” Bucky warned his little sister.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever,” she shooed as she went to the bar.

Steve was quiet for the rest of the night, thinking about everything Y/N and him had said to each other that night.

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

Steve woke up the next morning with the worst headache of his life. That’s what he got for drinking the world’s cheapest alcohol.

When he grabbed his phone from the nightstand, he noticed he had a text from a number that wasn’t in his phonebook.

He opened it to read: “Barnes told me to text you so you didn’t ‘make the same mistake twice.’”

Steve swore his heart stopped. There was no one else it could be .

With a smile, he texted back, “I’m gonna beat that punk up later.”

To his surprise, she texted back right away. “So, are you saying he was wrong to give me your number?”

Steve thought for a moment. “No, he was definitely right to do so. Apparently, I’m incapable of doing anything for myself.” He hesitated. Enough of being safe and careful. Might as well go for it. “As soon as I closed that car door, I regretted not asking for your number.”

“You know...we don’t have to just be people from each other’s past.”

“What are you doing for New Year’s Eve?”

“Nothing.”

Steve smiled. “Well, that’s not the case anymore. I’ll see you in NYC, Y/N.”

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

So, a lot of the reader was basically me in high school and a lot of it was not. I’ll let you guys figure that out for yourself.

Let me know what you thought of it!

Oh the title was inspired by “Seventeen” by Sharon Van Etten.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x tall!reader #tall reader insert #steve rogers x tall!fem!reader #steve rogers x tall girl #steve rogers high school au #marvel high school au #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers reader insert #I used to be seventeen #I used to be seventeen - one shot #marvel tall reader insert

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