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mysecretlittlelibrary · 1 year ago

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can you make one with matt murdock where they're good friends but one night they're drinking and having fun and then the reader kiss him but when they making out he ends up saying someone else name and the reader leaves, later on they talk and reader apologizes for misreading their relationship and continue to be friends but theres tension in it until bradley finally admits that he likes her and he try to make up for all the time lost

~Friends Don't Treat Me Like You Do~

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none really, embarrassment?? Alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries (nothing major)

Genre: mostly fluff very minor angst

Summary: You've had a crush on your friend for a very long time and when you finally make your move it goes terribly wrong; And that's why friends should sleep in other beds // and friends shouldn't kiss me like you do ... // my friends won't love me like you - Friends by Ed Sheeran

A/N: I know it's a typo of some sort but it's sending me to the moon that the name Bradley is jus thrown into this ask cuz I can't even figure out what it's replacing lmaoooo anyway thank you for requesting! I hope you like it anon! :3 (also I didn't edit this plz be nice)

***

Your friendship with Matt Murdock is in some ways rather unconventional. You've been friends for many years, but these days most of your interactions consist of him stumbling over to your apartment at odd hours covered in bruises you don't ask about- not because you don't want to know but because you're pretty certain you've guessed it and you're not sure what acknowledging it would mean. So you don't ask, instead, you give him food, and tend to his wounds, and talk to him about whatever comes to mind until he inevitably falls asleep on your couch for a few hours and sneaks out early enough to go back to his place for his day job as a defense attorney with his two friends. Both of whom you'd consider friends- although not nearly as close as you are with Matt.

Tonight Matt's invited you over to his place. Apparently, he's been feeling a bit guilty that most of the time you've spent together in recent days has been just him coming over in the middle of the night. As if you'd ever actually be annoyed with taking care of your friend. Your friend you feel for more than he can ever know. Still, he insisted you come over for dinner so you did, he ordered your favorite from a takeout place near his place and now you're eating and drinking wine you brought along with you. Well, you're drinking wine, Matt's been helping himself to the beers filling his fridge.

"Whenever you come over I do all that talking Matty so today you can do the talking this time. Tell me what you've been getting up to lately." You tell him once you've covered asking each other how your day was.

"I don't do anything interesting y/n- I go to work, spend all day reading or writing lengthy opening statements or discussing things with Foggy and our clients until ungodly hours according to Karen. Sometimes they drag me out to Josie's but- there's really nothing I 'get up to' and you know that."

"Why do you do that?" You frown.

"What?"

"Make yourself seem so dull when you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"I've known you for a long time Matt and I can't think of single period of our lives where you had nothing interesting going on and yet you always talk about yourself as if you're the color beige personified. It's like you're worried that if people think you're too interesting they'll," you trail for a moment "find out something."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing in particular. You're just way more interesting than you want people to think. For some reason."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're not exactly an open book either."

"You got something to ask me about Matty?"

"No." He shakes his head. You stare at him for a long moment.

"We should play a game!" You announce.

"I don't really- have games?" Matt says.

"There are tons of games that don't require having anything Matt we just have to pick one."

"Like what?"

"We can play 20 questions- the right way, last letter first letter, I'm not a fan of Ghost but we can do that too, or word replacement- to name a few."

"I'm- not familiar with those besides 20 questions?"

"Well, last letter first letter you pick a category and we name items except the last letter of one item has to be the first letter of the next one so like if we're naming office supplies and I say stapler you'd say something like ruler. And Ghost is a spelling game, kinda like hot potato meets Horse the basketball game- so like you take turns spelling a word and you don't wanna be the one who finishes the word- if you do then you get a letter from the word ghost- first person to finish ghost loses. And then word replacement is just a silly game where you pick a movie or show title and change one of the words to the silliest thing you can think of." You explain quickly.

"Let's do the title one. Requires the least amount of thinking and I don't have to compete with you." He says.

"Then I'll start. Fast and Constipated." You giggle.

"Fast and Constipated!?" Matt's laugh is incredulous.

"Yeah, fast and furious but not so fun."

"Okay um- John Tucker Must... Juggle."

"That's way less fun than him dying." You laugh.

"True."

"What a Chupacabra wants."

"Goats- obviously."

"Shut up." You giggle.

"Now you- resent me 2."

"Oh that's- why would you say that?" You chuckle.

"I dunno I'm too drunk to think of movies." He mutters.

"All I've got are rom-coms in my head and those titles are not nearly as fun to fuck with. Two weeks- paleontologist?"

"Paleontologist!? What movie was that even supposed to be?"

"Two weeks notice. Duh."

"I don't think I know that one." He frowns.

"It's about a woman who ends up working as the PA for some rich businessman when she tries to protest something he's trying to build- I forget the details but he turns out to be a giant useless manchild and when he disrupts her personal life for something frivolous she tries to quit but somehow they fall in love or whatever. It's been a while since I've watched it honestly." You shrug.

"Rom-coms are such a curious collection of movies."

"True but that one is pretty average compared to some others I've seen."

"Do you watch a lot of them?"

"I like to laugh at them mostly." You say. "You know what's a weird one? The Notebook."

"Is that not like- a classic?"

"I mean yeah but like the guy gets the girl to go on a date with him by dangling off of a moving ferris wheel."

"And that works?"

"Somehow! I mean I guess she didn't wanna feel responsible for him dropping himself off the wheel in front of an audience but I dunno it seems like he was just looking for reasons to die in that movie." You explain. "Although I never finished that movie maybe he does die. Except then it wouldn't be a rom-com I guess. It would be more tragedy, like in the Shakespearean sense."

"You are always somewhere else." Matt laughs.

"Not always! Oh! I brought that CD you wanted to borrow. We should play it." You sit up suddenly and grab your backpack.

"Are you sure all you've had is that bottle of wine?" Matt asks sitting up slowly from where he's laying on the floor.

"Where's your player?" You ignore his question.

"Should be in the bookcase." He waves absentmindedly.

"Do you want another beer while I'm up?" You ask walking over to the radio to pop the CD.

"Nah. I'm good thanks." He says. Music fills the apartment, and you can't help but sing along to the upbeat tune from Matt's CD player. You dance, well mostly spin, around the apartment giggling as you go.

"Are you dancing?" Matt turns towards you with a smile on his face although you're not looking at him.

"Of course I am- I love this song. Do you wanna dance with me?" You ask walking towards him, still dancing but less now so you can get where you're going.

"No no- I'll leave the dancing to you." Matt says before you make it all the way over to where he's sitting on the floor.

"Suit yourself." You shrug but when you attempt to change directions you trip on your backpack still on the floor and go tumbling towards the ground. Matt moves quicker than you'd expect for a blind guy off several beers but his arms shoot out and yank you towards him before your head hits the hardwood.

"Careful y/n." He says softly as he settles you into his lap.

"Do I need to be if you're here?" You joke smiling at him as you toss your arms over his shoulders.

"Y/n-" Matt's tone is warning in a way only he could get away with using on you.

"Relax Matty, I know to look after myself." You say quietly. Matt frowns slightly as if he's going to protest, but you don't let him get the words out. Alcohol coursing through your system, you seize the opportunity of his closeness and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it. Matt lets out a noise of surprise, he heard your heart rate spike sure but he couldn't have guessed this was why. His lips move against yours for a second before something catches his attention and he's gasping out a name. Except, it's not your name.

"Karen." He breathes and it reaches your ears like a bucket of ice water dumped on your head. You jerk back suddenly.

"Oh my god-" You say scrambling out of his lap. "I- I am so sorry. I'm gonna go." You grab your bag and b-line it for the exit before Matt can even get to his feet.

"H-hang on a second y/n I-"

"I'll- I'll see you around Matt." You force yourself to say before leaving his apartment. You feel sharper than the amount of wine you've had should allow as you walk the few blocks to your place. Only once you're back in the safety of your own home do you let yourself wallow over how absolutely embarrassing that was. You might have just ruined one of the most important relationships in your life only for him to call out for another girl. You stumble into the shower in hopes of washing away some of the embarrassment you feel, or at the very least distracting yourself enough that you can shelf it and get some sleep. You spend hours tossing and replaying the moment excruciatingly but eventually, exhausting wins out and you do fall asleep. The next couple of days you pretty much ignore Matt's calls and texts. You really bury yourself in work to avoid dwelling on that awful night but you know you can't dodge him forever. Evidently, two days is as much as Matt's willing to give you to do so because on day 3 of avoidance he comes knocking at your door late at night as he sometimes does.

"Look- I know you've been avoiding me and all but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say Matt no need. I'm sorry I overstepped, I- I totally misread things the other night but hey- alcohol will do that sometimes. I'm sorry. We're good though. I'm good. I just needed a minute to lick my wounds of embarrassment. Everything's fine. Come on let's see the damage tonight hm?" You lead him into your apartment ignoring the confused look on his face. You let yourself settle back into your routine with him, patching him up, giving him food, getting him up to speed on the last couple of days of your life, telling stories, and just talking until he falls asleep on your couch. You're determined to shake this stupid crush of yours off and go back to the way things have always been between you. And if you're gonna shake this crush step one is putting yourself out there. Which you do, and for the next few weeks you find yourself on dates almost every night. Tonight's date is going surprisingly well all things considered. He'd planned to take you somewhere that ended up being closed after a freak accident the other day that he didn't know about. It was around the corner from Josie's so you brought him here instead and the conversation has been well worth it- even in a place like this. The one downside is that it's Friday and Foggy and Karen usually drag Matt here for drinks on Friday. You had hoped they'd skip out on that tonight but you of course could only be so lucky. When the bell over the door rings and you turn to see Karen leading Matt into the bar with Foggy behind them you almost want to groan. Dating has been nice but seeing Karen and Matt so close is like picking a scab. You turn back to your date with a smile, intent on ignoring the trio, except of course it couldn't be that simple.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n! Hey!" Karen beams at you.

"Karen! Hi! Foggy, Matt, good to see you all." You smile.

"You didn't tell us you'd be here tonight." She says.

"Well I didn't plan on it otherwise of course I'd have let you know." You tell her. "James this is Karen and that's Foggy and Matt. They're friends of mine. They all work together we've- kind of crashed their spot tonight." You tell your date.

"Oh! Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Nice to meet y'all." James shakes each of their hands. "Did you guys- wanna join us? Since it's pretty crowded in here you might not find another table."

"That's so nice of you James!" Karen says. Very nice indeed.

"I'll track down some chairs." Foggy says. You shift your seat closer to James to make room at the table since apparently they'll be joining you. You try not to pay too much attention to Matt's silence as everyone settles around the table.

"So y/n, you told James how we know you but you didn't mention how you know James. Are you guys work colleagues or something?"

"We have a mutual friend that set us up." James offers.

"Oh my gosh! We're crashing a date?! Why didn't you say so?" Karen shakes her head.

"No no no don't even worry about it, we've been here a couple of hours already. I invited you to sit with us so the night could go on." He says.

"Asking me, also would have worked." You smile.

"You guys are just the cutest." Karen sighs.

"I'm guessing this is a first date since- y/n's never mentioned you before." Matt says.

"It is. Not that I have to tell you about every guy I see." You say.

"You tell me everything." He scoffs.

"That's not true and even if it were that doesn't change the fact that I don't have to."

"So you keep things from me?"

"Am I missing something?" James chuckles.

"Matt and y/n have been friends since they were teenagers. They fight like they're siblings sometimes." Foggy explains.

"Sorry about that James. Matt's just-"

"Like a brother- I get it. I have siblings so I definitely know what it's like." He nods.

"Exactly." You smile.

"Like a brother." Matt quirks an eyebrow at you.

"As good a way as any to describe us." You nod. Matt hums and raises his glass to his lips without another word. The five of you sit and talk over drinks for another hour before you're ready to leave and James is happy to walk you out.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." He tells you.

"Even with the date crashers?" You ask with a goofy grimace.

"Heck yeah! Your friends are great." He laughs. "Next time I'll have my friends crash us. How about that?"

"Next time?"

"If you're willing. I'd really like to see you again."

"I- I'd like that." You nod.

"Cool. I'll- start coming up with second date ideas."

"Hopefully this time the place you pick doesn't impromptu have an incident." You laugh.

"I will quadruple check." He tells you. When you reach your block, but not your building, you stop and turn to him.

"Sounds good. I'll see you around James." You smile. He leans forward and kisses your cheek softly.

"Goodnight y/n." He says and walks away. You make it up to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and take a long shower. You enjoyed talking to James and you actually are interested in seeing him again for sure. Soon you're showered and pajamaed and pretty much ready for bed but before you can flop into it there's a knock at your door. Who could be knocking on your door right now? A quick check shows you it's Matt standing in your hallway.

"Matthew?" You open the door with a frown.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Well- right now I'm wondering what you're doing in my apartment."

"Like a brother to you?! Seriously? Last time I checked most people don't make out with their brothers."

"Depends on where you are I suppose." You shrug. "But regardless Matt that was a mistake we both know that." You shake your head.

"A mistake? Is that how you feel about it?"

"How I- I'm sorry did you forget calling out Karen's name while I was kissing you?! Cuz I've been trying to so if you've got tips to share on how that'd be great."

"Goddammit y/n." He sighs dropping his head.

"Matt you really should go. I know you worry or whatever but- James is, nice and it's late I'd like to go to bed."

"Screw James." Matt scoffs.

"Um- it was only our first date- you're skipping a few steps."

"That is not what I- it's like you do this on purpose."

"What are you doing here Matt?" You sigh.

"I don't like you dating him. I don't like you dating anyone for that matter. How could you kiss me like that and just... move on like nothing?"

"I dunno it's pretty easy when you call me the wrong name." You say.

"That was not what you think."

"I'm sure."

"It wasn't y/n. I'm serious. I could-" Matt stops and lets out a breath. "I'm Daredevil." He says.

"I know." You nod.

"What? You know?"

"You come in here at the witching hour every few days covered in bruises Matt how many explanations could there possibly be for that?" You roll your eyes.

"You never asked."

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready." You shrug. "Why tell me now?"

"Since I can't see- my other senses make up for the loss. They're like- very developed. I heard Karen scream somewhere in Hell's Kitchen, she sounded like she was in trouble that's- that's why I called out her name. I thought maybe one of Daredevil's many enemies managed to connect her to me. It wouldn't be the first time, I'm always listening for her and Foggy these days and I just-"

"Well was she in danger?" You ask.

"Nightmare." He mutters. "But by the time I pieced that together you were gone."

"Of course I was. Having a man say someone else's name when you kiss him is not something that encourages-" Matt cuts off your snarky remark by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. You react quickly, kissing him back, your hands wrapping around his wrists. By the time you pull away from him, you're breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you. I have been for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry I wasn't clear about it." He says.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well in my defense I've spent the last few weeks trying to get over you-" Matt kisses you again, hard, possessive, fiery.

"Don't." He says.

"Obviously." You grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. You spent years thinking you'd never get to kiss him, now that you know the truth you fully intend to take advantage and Matt has years of pining he wants to make up for.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil fluff #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil #requests

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mandowifey · 2 years ago

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Hey! School has been really getting me down. I'm taking short winter courses so all the work is compiled into 5 grueling weeks. When I'm not bogged down by school, I love making super specific playlists, reading books and writing down beautiful quotes, going to local punk shows with friends, using fashion to reinvent myself everyday, and seeing movies in theaters (crying in a movie theater is one of my favorite activities haha.) My pronouns are she/her :-)

Feel free to write anything! Love your work <3

I'm so sorry to hear you are down from school! (Also thank you for the sweet compliment!)

I assign you; James Sandin.

Note; This is SFW, and unedited. It was meant to be a short drabble!

X x X x X x

"Are you sure you don't want us to wait for your Uber to get here?"

Rubbing your hands together as you shivered, your eyes sparkle as you look at your friends. All of you dressed well for the show you'd attended. You had anticipated drinking and in foresight opted to get a ride there. Now sober and cold, you regretted the attempt of being responsible.

"Nah, you guys go ahead! It said twenty minutes, I'll be fine." You shudder and tighten your coat around you.

One of your friends hugs you before parting ways. Time was flying by and going slow so often these days with your busy schedule and limited free time. While exhausted regularly, you still tried to indulge in the things that brought you joy.

At this time of evening, the streets were quiet and foot traffic was liminal. Your phone pinged and you checked it, hoping the alert meant Joseph, your uber driver, was approaching.

'Car accident on 14th, gonna be an extra 15 minutes.'

Groaning, you rub your arms before looking around. You spot a little bar with a bright neon sign telling you it was open. Now that you had 30 minutes, you jog across the street and shuffle into the bar. The warmth inside made you groan with relief. A few patrons regard you before returning to their conversations, mostly white noise to your ears as it mingled with the soft alt-rock music playing from ceiling speakers.

Once you sat at the bar, an older woman behind the counter approaches you and smiles.

"What can I get you?"

"I'll take a coke with ice."

The woman seemed confused, but obliges you. You trade the glass for 3$ in cash and take your phone out once she stepped away.

"And how about for you, handsome?"

You had been flicking through a couple of social media apps when you heard a husky rumble to your right. Looking up, you spot a handsome gentleman in a nice suit about two chairs down from you. His cheekbones were prominent and caused a gaunt appearance to his face. He was much older than you, and you could not help but linger as you watched him speak.

"Rum and Coke, on the rocks."

His hand reached up to remove the Bluetooth from his ear and put it in his suit. You must have been gawking because his head turned in your direction and he smiled. The lopsided smirk tugged something within you.

"Hey, were you just at Hell’s Nova?" He took cash out to pay the woman as she brought his drink.

You realize he was speaking to you.

"Oh-uh. Yeah, actually how did-"

The man lifted his hand and tapped a finger to his wrist, which prompted you to look at your own. A dark purple wristband with 'WELCOME TO HELL' scrawled in red clung loosely around you. Your face burns immediately.

"Duh." You laugh.

"I actually had a meeting nearby. Client's daughter performs there. Sorry, rude of me to run my mouth before introducing myself. I'm James."

The lights above the bar catch his beryl orbs and fill them with glistening specks. You were lost within them, even from a distance.

"I'm Y/N." Your face hurt from the blush spreading over them.

Grabbing his briefcase and drink, James moved another seat down so only one separated you. Your heart thunders as you catch a whiff of his cologne, no doubt as expensive as his suit.

James exudes a sort of calm you'd only read about. The man was like a tempered river, peaceful and comforting. He smiles again as he gets situated in his new seat. Sipping his drink, you smile and fidget, feeling like you needed to fill the silence.

"So you-

"Do -"

You both stop, having nearly spoken over eachother. After he apologized and laughed, you conceed to let him go first.

"So what do you do?"

You fiddle with your phone and smile. You explain how you mostly are focused on classes and your education. Then segway into explaining your love of poetry and how you'd found time to see the show with friends. James smiles the whole time, those peircing eyes of his not once leaving yours.

"And where do you see yourself going after all this schooling?"

That was not as easily answered. You try to think on the fly but can only let out a soft laugh and shrug. He smiles at that too. When you ask about what he does, James explains his work in loose details, while ordering another drink.

In his company, you lost track of time completely.

You learned he also took poetry classes, and he could even recite passages from some of your favorites. He additionally revealed he has two lovely children, and that while his marriage was coming to an end, he still cared for his soon-to-be Ex wife and had nothing but good things to say about her.

When your phone buzzed, it tugged you out of the warm embrace of a comfortable conversation and you gasped.

"Shit! My rides here."

James' smile lost some of its spark.

"Well, it was great getting to meet you, Y/N." He smiled and reached inside his jacket as you moved and gathered your things.

Blushing, you smile at him and were about to agree when he held a card out to you. Pausing, you gently take it and realize it's his personal business card, including a work and cell number.

"What-"

"I'd really like to hear from you again." He smiles, unaware of the pounding in your chest. "And whenever you are done with schooling, I'd be happy to hook you up with work."

Your smile was nearly painful. It took everything to not lunge and hug him. "Thank you, James. You'll be hearing from me." You promise. He gives you one last smile and watches as you hurry out the door.

The entire ride home, you rub your thumb along the business card, giddy for the possibilities it gave you.

#ethan hawke #james sandin headcannon #james sandin headcannons #james sandin x you #james sandin x reader #james sandin #the purge #x reader

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tsukishimas-shortcake · 4 years ago

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Relationship Headcanons

↦ Character(s): Ryuguji "Draken" Ken x fem!Reader

↦ Warnings: none? no proof reading? idk its fluff

↦ Word Count: like 800

↦ Your Momo’s Receipt: Hello! I've just finished watching TR and am now like 75% through the manga and I've completely fallen in love with the characters. I am currently reconstructing my blog so excuse the mess of links and such! But please follow and request more TR if you like this!!

↦ After writing note: PLEASE REQUEST MORE I LOVED WRITING THIS SO MUCH

So we all know Draken's mom was a prostitute right? so we also know that he grew up in the brothel around women. Women he grew up protecting because he saw them possibly mistreated by clients, so he is a natural protector, especially when he gets older and is more able to kick ass

You first meet in like late elementary school

You dropped something you worked really hard on, a craft of some sort, and he picks it up for you

with the intent of returning it the next day

however when he comes to you with it you tell him just to keep it since he seems to like it

He ends up hanging it on his wall, and even though its a simple craft and not really a gift he sees it as his first gift from a friend

you end up moving away to go to a different middle school and when you meet him again you don't recognize him at all

you got off on the wrong stop and ended up in the "adult" part of town, near the brothel, and of course being a young girl there are some drunk men who are staring and making you uncomfortable.

Draken notices you and doesn't realize it's you either but he moves to walk next to you and asks if your lost. When you turn around he's absolutely speech less

Like do you know that the craft you made is still on his wall because you were his first "friend" and technically his first love?

He recognizes you when you make eye contact and you hear the stereotypical "Y/N-chan?"

You tilted your head slightly and stared at him in confusion before recognizing him and yelping a bit as you hugged him, arms going around his neck with him having to bend down because he's literally a giant. He just laughs when you call him "ken-chan"

Unlike how he wishes Mikey would stop calling him by the childhood nickname that Mikey gave him, he loves when you call him things like that, his favorite being "ken-chan" though.

It starts to get late as you explain you got off at the wrong stop, and you don't really know how to get back

"Would you like me to drive you back? I don't mind..." He says as he shyly is rubbing the back of his neck and you nod

"Do I need to give you like gas money or something? I would hate for you to spend your time driving me... I don't even know how far my house is..." you say since you truly are confused on how you ended up so far away, did you take the wrong route too?

"How about you have a meal with me? We can catch up and then I can drive you back... if that's okay of course..." He says a bit quietly and you just nod

He doesn't want you to know he lives in a brothel because he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable, he's used to the over sexualization of mundane activities but you just seem so pure he doesn't want to taint you

you end up going to this near by diner, he orders you both the meal he normally gets and when it gets there you both just start chatting away, and by the time your done the diner is closing

you end up exchanging numbers and he drives you home

when you get off his bike he moves to stand next to it, helping you take the helmet off and smoothing down your hair, and while he smooths down your hair you're just staring up at him in awe, your heart skipping a beat.

You start to walk to your door before you turn around

"Ken-chan...?" you say shyly, swaying back and forth and he just looks at you and hums in response

"Could we maybe... do this again soon?" You ask with a blush painting over your cheeks and he smiles since he was thinking the exact same thing but didn't know how to go about it

"Of course, just message me when you want to meet up and I'll make sure I'm available." He said, his voice a bit quiet as he tries to contain his excitement

As you tell him goodnight and turn to walk inside he makes sure to watch until he knows you're inside safely.

After his ride home he goes to his room and lays down, getting ready for bed but unable to calm down due to the excitement of seeing you again.

'New Message' notification and he's never reached for his phone faster

'Did you get home safely?' It was a text from you and he blushed a bit, although he's used to dealing with women making remarks that would make anyone shy he isn't used to someone who seems so naive, so nice, so warm, so just... perfect.

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izzabeean · 3 years ago

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Chapter 6 : Bad Luck

pairing : fushiguro toji x fem!reader

warnings/tags : 18+, alternate universe - office, eventual romance, explicit language.

genre : angst + fluff + smut

word count : 3,183

a/n : whoot, feeling like I posted this next chapter with a good amount of time in between the last one published. I've changed up my writing process a bit, just write and write without any worry then go back later and let myself proofread once I feel like I've hit my limit. I think this has been the most efficient way as of lately because I don't feel pressured to whip out a new chapter each time I post and this way, I can get my main ideas on paper. this new process kind of came from this idea of writing as an architect or a gardener. I'm more of an architect because I like to plan my thoughts out but I think changing up the process has helped me get out of my writer's block.

anyway! thank you again for your patience. the dialogue has been so fun to write in this chapter between Toji & Y/N. please enjoy xx

18+ minors dni!!!

masterlist | << prev | ch. 6 | next >>

“How could you possibly just lose it?”

The director's words pierce Toji from across the room as a searing headache forms from the screeching sound of his voice. For once Toji was speechless, unable to explain his actions. He didn’t know what happened to the project. Didn’t know what he had done wrong. Didn’t know how it could have just disappeared from his computer. There wasn’t any sort of self-sabotage behind it, for once in his life, he was trying to complete something and, of course, all his effort was for nothing.

“What am I supposed to tell the client?” The director continues, pacing back and forth behind his desk while Toji blankly stares at him slouching in the chair. “That my employees are incapable of administering a simple project? The utter humiliation–”

Stress exuberates through him more and more with each passing second while the sound of Toji’s heart beating rapidly in his chest starts to outweigh the intensity of his boss. He should’ve kept his head down, should’ve just worked in the background without making much effort, spending the rest of his days just getting by. That’s what he’d be doing all his life and now because he went off track from his normal routine… Things got complicated.

For one, the alcohol that normally congratulates him after a long day is only seldomly effective. The liquor coating his tongue doesn’t relax, only spreads more awareness of his unruly existence. On top of that, sleeping with women wasn’t the same. There’s a heaviness that weighs him down every time he even touches a woman. There’s no thrill or excitement, only the depressing emotion of sex with another stranger shortly after he climaxes.

Everything that used to get him by seemed so dull. Perhaps there was a limit to what stimulated him and he just discovered it or maybe the depression he’d been side-lining has finally caught up to the impending doom he’s been feeling every waking hour of the day. Regardless, he still finds his decisions to be the reason for his destruction.

The door bursts open, interrupting the director’s rampant pestering. A breath of fresh air sweeps away Toji’s self-deprecating thoughts as he turns to see you walk into the room.

“My apologies, I got here as fast as I could,” you say, smoothing your hair down while rushing up to the desk to stand behind Toji. An urgency falls upon your face as the director explains what had happened. Your eyes widen while your jaw locks. It was a look Toji had never seen before – you looked completely distressed. Your eyes dart to Toji. “You didn’t check if it was saved as another document?”

“If I had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Toji says and you huff at his response.

Perhaps it’s the essence of HR steaming off of your panic but you look quite concerned for him. Your eyes gleaming with uneasiness, the biting of your bottom lip, the steady breathing showing that you’re in deep thought, thinking of a possible solution. Most of the time, your emotional outbursts have taken over at Toji’s presence but now you are remaining logical.

“We can’t have this client waiting on us,” the director exclaims firmly. “There’s just too much risk.”

“Sir, if I may make a suggestion,” you ask to which he nods in reply. “I think you should ask for a week extension–”

“L/N-san, do you hear yourself? That will humiliate–”

“I’m sorry sir, but there’s more than just the company's reputation,” you interrupt with an apologetic look on your face, to which the director holds back his words with a frown. Toji’s eyes widen as you completely dismiss the director’s attitude to continue explaining your idea.

“Our client is quite reputable in the market. I believe we can complete the project to continue our relations with them. If we do so, it could bring us other opportunities from other investors.”

The director raises an eyebrow, listening closely to the calm and composure of your words. Toji has never seen you in a professional setting before, your competence, integrity, and confidence shining through your word. Now he understands why someone at your age could receive the title of "Human Resource Manager".

“I believe Fushiguro-san has shown his dedication to the company, especially since you were looking quite forward to the finalization of the project,” you exclaim. “And I think he is capable of completing the project once again.”

“You know that project took me almost a month,” Toji intervenes.

“Then since you’ve already completed it, it should only take half the amount of time,” you argue.

“Perhaps that’s a good idea,” the director chimes in. “But it’s very doubtful they’ll be inclined to do so.”

The silence stretches among the three of you and the lingering stress forms a pit in Toji’s throat. He’s never really fucked up so bad, he most definitely would rather die than have to redo the entire project. From the beginning, he has been a little unlucky, but now it just feels like the entire world is against him reminding him that his existence isn’t futile.

“I’ll talk to them,” you say. “I will just insist on an extension.”

“Alright, L/N. I’m trusting your judgment,” the director agrees after a moment. “Fushiguro, I’ll give you a week and a half.”

You’re so nonchalant about this inconvenience it makes Toji sick. He’d rather just walk out on the company instead. What was even the point of putting an effort into something? Honestly, he should have never even tried so hard. Everything was just fine before this project… Before you showed up.

“Sir I–”

“If this is going to be completed on time, we will need to suspend the organization of the company event,” the director says, eyeing you both with a very, very serious look on his face. “Also, Fushiguro, this project is very important to the face of the company, therefore I would hope that you take good care in the completion.”

A menacing look dresses his face without even a laugh to support the comment. Toji wanted to say 'fuck it, fuck you, I don’t care about this anymore, I quit.' But something strange overcomes him at that moment. Perhaps it was some grace from his morning coffee, or perhaps he felt sorry that you believed in him. Nonetheless, he looks at the director with determination on his face.

“You have nothing to worry about.”

Now Toji’s ego feels on the line. He didn’t think this decision through as his fingers clicked away on the keyboard, back to the beginning of where he was a month ago. He can feel the tension in the office as others pass by giving him unappreciative looks. Quitting was a better option.

“Yo!” Kong steps up to Toji's desk, both hands in his pants pocket. There’s a slight concern on his face and he watches Toji barely look up from the computer. “Heard about the project. Man, that’s gotta suck after so much overtime.”

“Pretty sure the entire office knows about it,” Toji mutters, still not looking up. “Pro’ly gonna have to sleep here until it’s done.”

“Tsk, maybe don’t work yourself too hard,” Kong says with a chuckle trying to make light of the situation. When Toji continues to type without a reaction, Kong realizes now isn’t the time to joke around with his buddy. “Seriously, it’s not worth losing sleep over.”

Toji stops and looks up at Kong with a smirk. “Then maybe I should just quit.”

“You could,” Kong laughs.

“But…”

“But?”

Toji looks past Kong to see you walking by, you hand over some paperwork to a co-worker and exchange a couple of words before turning back to your office with a smile. Kong follows Toji’s eyes.

“Ahh, now everything makes sense,” Kong exclaims. “You have a crush on the new HR manager.”

Toji snickers, prying his eyes away from you to get back to work. “You still trying to be funny?”

"You know, it's not a bad thing to want to do more than just sleep with someone," Kong says watching Toji’s face remain unchanged. "Unless… All you want to do is sleep with her."

Toji remains impassive. Of course, he doesn’t have a crush on you. "I gotta get back to work, not enough hours in the day."

"Alright, let me know if you need anything,” Kong offers. "Don't stay here too late."

Toji watches everyone trickle out of the office as the day comes to a close. He still feels miles away from completing this project and time is ticking against him. His lips crave a taste of whiskey as his productivity starts to plummet. About to get up to leave and give up on this assignment, he watches as you walk by the front of the office. Purse in hand, snug in a warm coat, you very easily accepted no responsibility for the completion of this project. Sure, you never worked on it in the first place, but because of you, Toji has to start from the beginning with less than half the amount of time to hit the deadline. Frankly, you should be helping him.

Getting up from his desk, he takes long strides towards the elevators to stop you from leaving the building. He doesn’t catch you waiting, but most definitely sees an elevator door open waiting to depart. He rushes up to it, sliding his hand between the doors about to shut and a gasp sounds from the other end. A woman Toji has seen in the office before but has never spoken to gazes up to him and you're next to her brows furrowed to a glare.

“Leaving early?” Toji asks.

“My day is done,” you pout, pushing the close door button hoping Toji will take the hint to let you be.

“Are you sure about that?” Toji gives a smug look, triggering the rising loss of patience. “Think there’s something you need to help with or are you busy with Kai–”

“Oh my god, alright!” You cut him off before he has a chance to finish his sentence. The irritating chime of the elevator sounds warning that the doors have remained open for too long makes you rush off the elevator and Toji snickers as the doors shut behind you. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Careful, don’t want your co-workers to see how much of a bitch you are,” Toji teases.

“I’m the bitch?” You growl. “How about you, asshole?”

“Is that the new nickname now?” Toji says, he knew you were on the cusp of punching him in the face, but he wanted to take that chance noting how hot you look angry. “What happened to pervert ?”

“You can have two can’t you?”

“Well, that just makes me feel special.” Toji’s voice was relentless as he continued to poke at you insistently. He knew the right words to say just to get you all riled up and he’d be waiting patiently all day for the right moment to grace you with his presence.

“Believe me, you’re not that special,” you shoot back with a wide spiteful grin.

“Wow, who pissed you off today?” Toji asks, a little bit wounded by your comment.

“Look, if you want to blackmail me, get it over with. But I fucking helped you not get fired.”

“I never really asked you to,” Toji’s mouth twitched in irritation. “What if I’m tired of this shit-ass job.”

“Then why don’t you quit?” You stand crossing your arms.

Toji just shrugs in response.

“Fuck,” you groan frustrated from the conversation. “Just tell me what you want from me?”

You both sit down at Toji’s desk for a couple of hours- you working off your laptop and him working on his desktop. The majority of the time, a silence fills the air between the two of you, even when Toji looked at you in his peripheral, all he could see is a persistent frown since the moment you started helping him. It made him almost laugh a couple of times, especially when your eyes look up to him, anger deepening as you catch him staring. Luckily Toji wrote out notes of what he’d remembered from the lost report and all your job was to type it out. You seemed good with your words, capable of writing material good enough for a proposal.

Your company wasn’t all that menacing though, once the time started to reach 7:30 PM, your face seemed to relax as a yawn emerged from your mouth.

“I think I’m good for the day,” you say, slouching back in your chair.

“Let’s see,” Toji says, turning the laptop to him. His eyes widen in shock seeing more than what he needed to be written up in the document - another reason to believe why you are in a management position at your age. As he looks up at you, he sees you standing up and putting your coat on. Though he didn't expect you to stay almost three hours after work, he appreciated your effort. He didn’t want to say it aloud though. It wasn’t quite his style.

“Wanna go for a drink?”

You pause for a moment caught off guard by his invitation. He can see you processing it and he wonders if you misheard him, but once you let out a little chuckle followed by a disturbed look on your face, he already knows the answer.

“You’re joking, right?” You study his face looking for an answer, but alas it's unreadable. “You going to blackmail me to have a drink with you?”

Toji clicks his tongue and returns to his work. He can sense a stutter in your movements with a hint of regret as you pause before you leave. But it doesn’t last long as you turn and murmur “Goodnight” before walking away. He doesn’t reply or look up, almost bitter at you for thinking he’d force you like that to just have a drink with him. It’s almost more impactful for him to not reply to your childish games at this point. Plus it’s late and he’s getting tired, he doesn't have the patience anymore.

The next day, Toji sees you from across the room. The irritation had left his body last night after some alcohol and sleep, but there was still this curiosity about whether you felt sorry for him or not. He feels like an idiot for testing you but he doesn't want to force his presence if you were only disgusted by it. And yet his body seems to have a mind of its own as he watches you step away from your co-workers and down the hall back into your office.

“Morning,” Toji greets in the doorway, noting the cute suit you’re wearing today as you stand behind your desk. A tight skirt with a fitted blazer, you were just asking to be gawked at. So how could he not stare?

Looking up from your desk, the melancholy look on your face turns deadpan. “You here to annoy me already?”

“Well, I gotta get through my daily tasks, and irritating you happens to be one of them,” Toji jokes with a sincere smile.

“Somehow, I can’t see that in your job description,” you pipe back.

“Who says that it is?” He purs, stepping into your office. “Maybe it’s just a way to make the day a little less boring.”

“So pissing me off is your version of fun?” You scowl hoping to get rid of him, but of course, it wasn’t all that easy.

“I can’t admit something like that to the head of HR,” Toji teases. He places both hands on the desk leaning over towards you. It’s tempting how close you are to him, how much he wished you’d close the gap between the two of you. “But it is quite fun to get a reaction out of you.

He sees your mouth twitch in aggravation as you pull out your chair to take a seat. “You’re driving me out of my fucking mind.”

“But you like it,” he grins as you continued to stare at him. Luckily for you, Toji wore a fitted dress shirt today, optimally outlining his physique, a tie wrapped around his neck, but a bit undone along with the top button of his shirt. His hair was slicked back, some strands falling on his face and for the first time in a while, he felt good. Undoubtedly he knew he looked good. “You like the undivided attention I give you. Don’t you?”

“From a pervert?” You smirk. “I don’t think so.”

“Is the only reason you’re calling me a pervert to deflect how attracted you are to me?” He watches you start to get uncomfortable as you cross your arms against your chest as if to shut out any emotions. But it’s plain to Toji that his words are working diligently, breaking away at your ego, taking you down a notch to where you need to be. On the desk, getting fucked silly.

“God, you’re irritating,” you say.

“Ignoring my question because I’m right?”

“Don’t fucking test me.”

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

A fit of anger boils within you that is about to explode, and Toji can’t believe it as you stand up from your seat to grab his tie. He leans closer hoping that the reaction will be a sloppy kiss instead of a blow to the face. No matter what it is, the passion in your eyes is very fiery. The fact that he’s struck a nerve and has you almost ballistic in front of him, turns him on so much. He could feel himself getting rock hard each waking moment.

“Am I interrupting something?”

The two of you look to the front of the office to see Kaito with a stern look on his face. The raw tension almost makes Toji laugh, but the feeling of being caught protrudes off on you. You weren’t hasty or worried about it, just bothered.

“No,” you say flatly before rolling your eyes and letting go of Toji’s necktie.

“Can we have our meeting, now?” Kaito askes. He sounds defensive, full of spite with a sprinkle of jealousy. That’s all Toji needs, to piss off the guy you’re fucking on the down-low or maybe that’s what he wants. If at all, he just really wants to show you who’s better.

“Of course,” you nod. “Fushiguro, if you can��”

“Leave?” Toji finishes your sentence with a chuckle then rolls his eyes before lazily standing up straight. The gaze he receives from Kaito is far from friendly as if Toji is receiving a target on his back. “She’s all yours.”

The surprise from Kaito shifts to anger as he watches Toji leave the room.

“Shut the door on your way out,” Kaito calls out, giving the last word.

And Toji leaves the room with an awful taste in his mouth. What a fucking joke that is. He can’t believe that guy and how full of himself he is. It’s irritation at its finest.

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tags: @brumous11 @cosmotoic @slurptheskinoffshiggysfatdick @gojosoath

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221bshrlocked · 4 years ago

Text

do you trust me?

Paring: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Words: 3708

Warning: Lots and lots and lots of touching because Din is getting a massage. Blindfold. Handjob. A sort of foot/hand fetish if you like squint...really really squint.

Summary: It's been a while since Mando came for a massage but things get heated when he asks you for a favor...

A/N: Ok so there was this one anon message I was writing a fic for yesterday when I lost the 1.5K words and it was something along the lines of "imagine Din frequenting your massage parlor and you're a masseuse" so I added a little twist to it because Shy!Din who doesn't want to cross that line until he's 1000% sure you're okay with it does something to me so here you go. I hope you enjoy it people and I'm sorry I lost your message anon. I'll reblog with the taglist later. This is not beta'd!!

You can’t help but smile when your boss comes in and tells you that one of the regulars was asking if you were available for him today. You know who she’s referring to but still tell her that he should be serviced soon since he probably doesn’t have that much time. When she tells you that he specifically asked for you, you tell her that you’ll take him up in the next slot.

It was strange to have someone like the Mandalorian come in for a massage. His people weren’t necessarily known for letting their guard down, especially in an establishment like this. But you felt a sense of pride every time he came in. Granted it was every once in a while, but you enjoyed those sessions immensely. You remember how weird and intimidating it was when he first walked into your room. You couldn’t see a single inch of his skin and you wondered why he would come into a massage parlor when he wasn’t allowed to take off his clothes. He’d quickly explained to you that it was only his helmet that he couldn’t take off. It was a little sad though because for those first few times, he only ever took off his beskar armor. You told him that you would unfortunately not be able to use any of the oils on him since he chose to keep his clothes on and he nodded in understanding.

But then something shifted in the dynamic between the two of you and over the span of a few cycles, Mando, as you liked to call him, began to strip off his layers. You never questioned him about his decisions, ensuring to follow his lead and tell him that he was very much in control of what happened in the room. But as patient as you were, you couldn’t help but feel guilty because maker, why couldn’t he just take off his clothes? It was the most mind-boggling thing you’ve ever experienced. You had adonis on your table come in every day, but just seeing his arms and his waist had your mouth watering. It was pathetic too because no matter how many times you saw him, your heart still skipped a beat when you touched him.

As you finish with your current client and prepare the room, you remind yourself to try and be on your best behavior for his sake. It took the man almost five months to finally feel comfortable enough with you and take off his shirt so you couldn’t go and destroy all of that work. When you’ve set everything up and replaced the candles, you walk out and head towards the front desk. You don’t have to glance around for too long. It’s hilarious how much he stands out next to everyone. As soon as you look at him, Mando’s posture changes and he sits up, his hands clasping his knees as he waits for you to nod at him. You ignore his rigid attitude and whisper something to your boss, smiling back when she turns to Mando and raises an eyebrow at him.

“Come on, I don’t have all day.” You call after him and watch as he stands up and struts towards you. No matter how many times you saw him walk, it’s always a little intimidating when you’re at the receiving end of such a powerful hunter.

“You could have been on your merry way Mando.” You say as you lead him through the hallways. “That’s not how I see it mesh’la.” You stop and turn around to look at him, narrowing your eyes when he almost bumps into you and mirrors your stance. “Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” You think he’s looking past you when he responds and rings his fingers nervously. “You don’t have all day.” The curt comment lets you know he isn’t going to answer your question and you shake your head before you continue to walk towards your room. Before you unlock it, he clears his throat and grabs your wrist to stop you from going any further.

“I- I can come back later, if you’re already booked for today.” You’re a little surprised by his comment but you shrug your shoulders and push the door open for him. “I cleared my schedule just for you so you better not change your mind now.” He turns away from you and stares at the floor before he steps into the room and you let out a breath when he begins to take off his weapons and place them on the corner table.

As you shut the door and move towards the table with the oils and towels, you’re met with a silence like never before. Thinking that he was probably not in the mood to chat, you shut your eyes and count back from ten to calm your nerves. You could do this.

But then you turn around a couple of minute later and you almost drop the bottles of oils when you see Mando’s state of dress. He’s standing in front of the table, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, staring at you through his visor.

You can’t do this.

“Is- is this okay?” Mando asks and you clear your throat quickly before moving the oils to the massage table. “Y-yeah of course. As long as you’re comfortable. Like I said, I don’t want you to think that you have to do anything.”

“I know…I- I trust you.”

Those three words do little to calm your nerves and you look up at him as soon as the admission registers in your brain. You aren’t sure if it was normal to react this strongly to such a simple declaration but you turn away from him to give him some privacy as he hopped onto the table.

“Can I ask you something mesh’la?”

“Hmm.”

“Do- do you trust me?” His question catches you off guard yet again and you tilt your head at the odd timing of it before you nod. “Of course Mando!”

“Then can you do me a favor?” You hope he’s about to ask you what you’ve been silently craving for months but then he brings out a simple cloth and you’re confused.

“I would like to feel…relaxed, and this helmet makes it difficult to- to…I can’t take it off in front of anyone. I understand if this is too much but if you don’t mind, could you maybe-” You know what he’s asking as soon as he brings up the helmet and without missing a beat, you walk around and take it out of his hand.

“Sure, but I won’t be able to see if I’m doing something that you don’t like. I tend to read body language but this will be more difficult, so you’ll need to speak up. Deal?” You wait until he gives you his confirmation before you return to table. As soon as you see him move to lay down, you turn around and wait until he’s comfortable before you raise the blindfold to your eyes. Mando watches as you twist it tightly around your eyes before you tie it, waving his hands several times in front of you to make sure that you don’t see him.

“Ok, I can’t see anything so…um, hand me the urn with the light-yellow oil please?” You call to him and force yourself to stay quiet when he takes your hand in his and places the urn between your palms. You thank him and wait until he tells you that you can begin. As you test the temperature of the oil, you hear a soft hissing sound coming from the top of the table and you stop your movement when you hear Mando setting down the helmet on the floor.

“Just umm, let me know when I can begin yeah?”

“Go ahead mesh’la, I’m ready for you.”

It never occurred to you that he might sound different without the vocoder and you grip the urn tightly as his voice rings through your ears. It was much deeper and hoarse than you thought it would be and for a moment, you wish you could hear it as he whispers the filthiest desires across your skin. But you bite your cheek and keep yourself under control as you step forward.

“Here, let me help you.” Without warning, Mando grabs your hand and rests it on his chest, and you think that this is probably the moment where you die of sheer sexual frustration.

“Thank you,” you whisper to Mando as you bring the urn above your head and begin to slowly pour the oil across of his chest and stomach. You vaguely feel his arms moving but you say nothing and put the urn aside as you begin to spread the oil across his skin. No matter how many times you massage him, you always felt giddy touching him. He wasn’t exactly ripped per se but he was muscular enough for his job, with some softer muscles here and there.

As you dug your fingers into his skin, you hoped he wasn’t staring at you because you were sure your skin was flushing deeply the more you felt him twitch and flex beneath you. You could tell the past month or so has taken a toll on him because the more you kneaded and stretched his muscles, the louder his gasps and groans grew.

But then you passed over his nipples and you swore he was murmuring curses beneath his breath. Opting to just move on and not apologize, you dig your knuckles into his pectoral muscles and hold back from commenting on how solid they felt. As you move to his shoulder, you could tell that he really was in need of relaxing because there were too many knots in just a small area. Mando is keeping silent the entire time and you thank the maker that he was a usually a quiet guy because there was no way could survive hearing his voice for a long period of time.

Taking a deep breath, you pour some more oil on your hands before you take hold of his arm and begin to stretch it. Mando says nothing as you bend it and move your fingers across his biceps and if he flexes for you, it’s a completely unintentional reflex. When you reach his hand and push your fingers into his palm, Mando swears again, turning his full attention to you as you try to loosen his ligaments. You know you don’t need to spend that much time on his hands but you’ve always loved how much bigger and thicker they felt compared to yours. It also felt a little intimate feeling someone’s hand relaxing between yours, but you kept that bit of information to yourself, not wanting Mando to feel nervous around you.

You slowly walk around the table and apply the same attention to his chest and left arm, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way you were clenching your thighs together as you felt his fingers curl around your wrist as you massaged his forearm.

“Moving onto the legs so if there’s anything you’re not comfortable by, let me know.”

“Yeah,” you almost jump when you hear Mando’s response because…was his voice this deep earlier?

Deciding to just go for it, you twist the towel far enough until it reaches his thighs and begin to pour oil on his thick muscles. You swear he didn’t look this tall but you realize that perhaps the armor didn’t make him look big, just more intimidating. As you squeeze the flesh of his inner thighs, you hear his breathing become erratic and you stop for a second to give him a chance to say something. When he doesn’t, you return to the task at hand and try your hardest to not think of the appendage that was not too far from where you were touching him.

Fuck, this should not be turning you on this much.

You’re not sure what it is about this situation that’s making you this needy and you think that’s it’s perhaps the blindfold but you brush the thought aside immediately, knowing that your brain would not be shy from thinking of more inappropriate scenarios involving blindfolds and liquids should it wanted to.

Pretending you weren’t just daydreaming about the Mandalorian bending you over this table and fucking you into the next parsec, you move to the other side and attend to his other upper thighs. Maker, this man really as built like a hunter. Well, he was an actual hunter so-

“Where did you go?” Mando’s voice breaks you out of your haze and you take your hands off of him when you realize he may have actually been staring at you.

“S-sorry I was just- well, it’s nothing important. Never mind.” You smile embarrassingly at him before you move to his feet and spread them apart. Mando’s sudden intake of breath sends a panic down your back and you take your hands immediately off of him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No! N-no, you’re…carry on.” He’s quite breathless as he speaks to you and furrow your eyebrows before you return to knead at his feet. And just like earlier, your thoughts take a turn for the worst when you notice just how large his feet were. They were much bigger than your own little hands and you think that maybe, just maybe, they might be proportional to his-

“That tickles,” Mando’s chuckle would have brought you to your knees had you been focusing on what he’s saying and you apologize before moving onto his other foot and finishing it quickly.

“Alright, turn for me Mando.” You tap his legs and wait for him to move, all the while trying to not think of him turning you around and spreading your legs to-

“Ready.” You silently curse him for always cutting off your train of thoughts but you bite your tongue and move to the other side of the table. Standing right in front of his head, you pour more oil on his back and attempt to ignore his whimpering which you were sure he wasn’t aware of. Once there is no more oil, you mirror your actions from earlier and dig you knuckles into his shoulder blades, finding the tense muscles and tendons much more difficult to relax than his front.

“Maker…you’ve been working hard haven’t you Mando?” You only get a small groan in return and you chuckle when you massage a particular spot that has him reaching out and grabbing on your legs.

“Oh…uhh please,” if it was possible to choke on air, you would have done so as soon as he moaned for you. This was not what you signed up for when you first woke up today, and you hated how much more relaxed he felt in your presence because the lower you moved down his back, the more confident his groans grew and before you knew it, he was whispering your name and speaking in his mother tongue. You weren’t sure if he was saying good or bad things, but from the way he was reacting to you, you had an idea of how he was feeling. And by the time you got to his calves, the man has pretty much melted underneath you.

As you finished up and moved away from the table so he could take his time to get up, you felt a strange haze wash over you. Something about the way he moaned your name along with expletives and maker knows what else had you wishing he could just muster up the courage to step over that line with you.

Slowly turning around, you wait until Mando begins to sit up before you speak up.

“I hope you don’t take too long before you visit again…it’s difficult to get you to loosen up when there’s so much pent-up energy.” You smile and hope he can tell that you’re joking with him, not realizing how much danger you were in just from being near him.

“It won’t help.”

You’re shocked by his response because he’s never actually insulted you before and you’re about to bite his head off when he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him.

“M-mando wh-”

“It’s not going to help, because I still have a lot of pent-up energy mesh’la. And you’re the one to blame.”

It’s like a zap of lightening has struck you down because as you try to free yourself from his grasp, you accidently brush something beneath the towel he has around his waist, something that was tenting the fabric and making it much harder to the touch.

“I’ve been trying to convince myself to visit you for so long sweet girl, but I stop myself from pushing in the coordinates when I remember how good it felt to have you worshipping me with your hands, your strong, soft little hands that I dream of touching me elsewhere…where I need you, crave you, fucking burn for you.” His words are laced with promises that you’ve longed to hear from him and you don’t realize that he’s waiting for you to answer until his grip tightens around your waist and he pulls you in closer.

“Mando,” you whisper to him as you lean into his neck and before he can ask you again, you slowly leave a trail of kisses across his jaw and down his jugular, not caring for how rough you’re being as you descend down his chest and leave bitemarks across the beautiful skin of his broad torso. He’s already somehow a moaning mess underneath your touch and the more you lick and kiss him, the more needy his groans become.

“Please, let me.” You plead as you raise your lips until they’re brushing against his and as Mando slowly tilts his head to capture your lips in a kiss, you dip your hand beneath his towel and firmly grasp his cock. Mando is distracted for a moment and he lunges into you when he feels how your warm hand massaging his dick. Although he normally doesn’t prefer any display of emotion, he can’t hold back from moaning your name as you slowly stroke his length. You’re not surprised by his size, but you’re a little shocked by how hot he runs and as you twist your palm around the bulging tip, Mando leans into you and shoves his tongue down your throat, making sure you don’t run away from him as he slips one arm around your back and keeps you as flush to him as possible.

The room is suddenly filled with the sounds of Mando’s heavy breathing and groaning, and you smile to yourself when you remember how desperate he said he was for you. You’re glad you weren’t the only one feeling such an intense neediness and it’s your turn to gasp when you dip your hand and grab his balls. Mando’s hold on you tightens and you’re sure he’s giving you bruises but you can’t find it in yourself to care because this monolith of a hunter was falling apart just from your hand.

You break the kiss and slowly push him down so he could lay on the table again and as he follows your lead, you smile down at him before you grab the oil and pour a little more of it on his dick. He twitches at the warm material but quiets down as soon as you bring two fingers and shove him in his mouth.

“Be quiet for me baby, don’t want the other clients to think they’ll be getting this treatment too.” Mando bites down on your fingers as he nods and you try to hold back from jumping on the table and sinking down on his cock.

Fuck, it felt like it was beautiful and you hoped that you’d get to see it at some point in the near future. But you were satisfied with what you had now and as you worked him closer to his orgasm, you wished you could see his facial expressions as he surrendered to you.

You could feel him buzzing with energy on the table, and you giggled when he stretched out and grabbed your leg to bring you closer to him.

“Please…oh fuck, please I-”

“Cum for me Mando…cum for me, let me taste you on my lips baby please. You’ve been so good to me, letting me take care of you and trusting me to keep your secret. Go ahead darling, and cum for me.” He suddenly sits up on his elbows and you let go of his mouth before grabbing his balls and massaging them until he fell over the edge. As he growled his release, you couldn’t hold back anymore and leaned down, taking as much of him in your mouth as possible as you sucked on him and tasted his seed. There was so much that you swallowed and you marveled at how much he still had as you continued to milk him dry. When he finally finished and fell to his back, you stroked him softly a few times before licking across his navel to clean him up.

As you stood next to him, you felt a little shy at what was to come. But Mando seemed to see you overthinking because he didn’t waste another minute, sitting up quickly and pulling you in his arms. You stood in between his legs and smiled when he leaned down and began to kiss across your eyes.

“You…you’ve been so good to me mesh’la.” He whispers hoarsely as he nips at your shoulder and you giggle when his scruff begins to tickle your skin.

“So have you.” Mando sighs heavily at your confession and you repeat it one more time so he could believe that you were telling the truth.

“I- I think I’ll start coming more often. You know, so the muscles aren’t too knotted like you said.”

“Hmm, is that all you’ll come for Mando?” You smile when he pecks your lips and brushes your hair aside.

“No sweet girl, I’ll be coming for you too. More than you think.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin/reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian/reader #massage #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut

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mandos-sluts · 4 years ago

Text

The Ambiguous Bet

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, mentions of sex work

Summary: Mando doesn’t think you could handle being a sex worker and you set out to prove him wrong

A/N: This is our first time writing any sort of fan fiction (much more to come) so we would really appreciate reblogging/reposting! We would LOVE feedback as well!

You’ve been working on the Razor Crest for about six months ever since the Mandalorian hired you to be his live-on mechanic. With everything the Crest has been through, Mando knew he had to hire you once he observed your mastery mechanical skills…you being drop dead gorgeous had nothing to do with it, Mando told himself.

Of course, Mando’s attraction was not one sided. You had watched him take down ruthless criminals with no problem at all. It didn’t matter that you had never seen his face. His strength, composure, and confidence (perhaps cockiness) made him incredibly attractive. Not to mention his rock-hard body. Every night you would lay on your cot and wish that he would just storm in and fuck you sensless. Alsa he never did, so you defaulted to pleasuring yourself and imagining that scenario.

Mando would never act on his desire for you, however. In fact, he often went out of his way to give you more than enough space or make the conversation more than appropriate. But this was becoming harder and harder for him to do. Before hiring you, Mando would relieve his stress and sexual tension at the local brothels on whatever planet he was hunting a bounty on. But once you came aboard, he stopped this practice as he could never find the time or excuse to leave the ship without you for enough time. Since you had started accompanying him on his bounty hunts to assist him in whatever he may need.

***********************

You were pleading with Mando. The two of you were walking back to the ship after acquiring a new puck, and you were starving and there was no food back on the Crest.

“Fine.” Mando snapped with his low modulated voice. “We can stop quickly at the cantina and grab something to eat.”

The two of you walked through the door. “Alright, hurry up–” Mando said, turning to you.

But before he could even finish his sentence, you were running up to a random group of girls, none of whom he recognized.

“OMG hiiiiii‼!” One of them screeched.

“Y/n what are you doing here?!?” Another one exclaimed.

Mando just stood a few feet away watching you excitedly greet the four girls.

***********************

They were old friends of yours. It turns out, they all worked at the brothel down the road. While catching up with them, they told how fun and effortless their jobs were. They made great money having great sex for a living. It was a high-end brothel, and it was completely safe and clean; clients had to pass health and background tests before purchasing services. Your friends made thousands of credits and spent them travelling the galaxy, going out to fancy clubs, and buying luxury goods.

After getting a drink with them, you walked back to the ship. Mando had already returned. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t want to join you and your loud friends for a drink.

You step into the Crest. You take in the filthy floors and musty smell and can only think about the flashy and cushy lifestyle that your old friends are living as sex workers. You honestly love working with Mando and travelling with him as a mechanic/assistant. But a lot of the excitement of the job revolved around your flirtatious relationship with Mando, and you couldn’t help wonder how much longer that would last. You let out a deep sign, and climb the ladder to the cockpit.

“Finally.” Mando says standing up and facing you. You stood in the doorway. “You need to rewire the calcinator before we take off. Get to it.” He said shortly.

You stand there, and simply stare at Mando.

“...What?” Mando says with his modulated voice.

“Ohhhhhh nothing.” You sign crossing your arms and slouching. “I’m just thinking about how much more glamerous my life would be if I were a sex worker instead of a rouge Mandalorian’s mechanic.”

Mando scoffs. “That’s funny.”

You tilt your head as you stare into his visor.

“You would never last as a sex worker. Trust me, y/n, you’re much better suited being my mechanic.”

“What?!” you say, feeling slightly offended. “Excuse me, but I would be an amazing sex worker. Trust me, Mando.”

“Yeah…definitely not.” Mando says.

“And why is that?” You shoot back.

“You’re too stuborn to be a sex worker.” Mando says nonchalantly, leaning back into his chair. “You have to put up a lot of shit. You basically have to do whatever your client wants you to do. You have to let creepy guys fuck you any way they want.” Mando says.

“Creepy guys like you?” You say with a smirk, staring directly into his visor.

“Exactly.” Mando expresses, maintaining “eye” contact with you.

You take in a breath. “Alright, Mando, I’m bored, and our next bounty isn’t due for three days.” You say stepping closer to the chair he’s sitting on.

“I’m going to work at the brothel tomorrow and prove that I can be a great sex worker.”

“Ha, I bet you won’t last a day.” Mando spits, crossing his arms.

“You’re on.”

***********************

The terms of your bet were unclear or nonexistent? But it didn’t matter to you, and apparently not to Mando either.

You weren’t a registered sex worker, but your friends pulled some strings and you were able to work at the brothel for the day under the pretence that you were “shadowing” one of your friends to see how the job worked.

Inside the brothel, you sat in the area where the girls hung out. This was a lavish, very expensive brothel. The procedure was simple: the sex workers all lounged around this beautiful gold hotel loby. Clients who didn’t already know which sex worker they wanted would enter and observe the sex workers, speak to some of them, and choose one (or more).

You sat comfortably in a big velvet chair. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. But the deal was that you only had to make it through a day. Maybe you wouldn’t get any clients at all! There were a considerable number of sex workers, and perhaps no one would choose you. Just as you were starting to feel better at that thought, the manager called your name.

“Y/n! You have a client. Head up to room 279, they’ll be up there shortly.”

Your heart starts beating fast. Okay, so you have a client within the first five minutes of starting your day, no big deal!

You head up to the room with your heart still racing. It’s a really nice room. It’s gold pleated and there’s a lounge area, a bar, and a huge bed. You walk over to a large mirror and examine yourself. You’re wearing a red silk and lace two-piece set. You look super hot, this is definitely the hottest you’ve looked since taking the job on the Crest. You take your hair clip out to redo it when the door swings open.

Your heart drops and your head swings around to see who your client is. To your surprise, Mando stands at the door. He stands tall and confident, legs a little further than shoulder width apart.

“Mando! What are you doing here?” You say in confusion.

He doesn’t say a word, but takes one step into the room.

Your confusion is written on your face.

“Mando, you have to get out of here. I have a client on the way.”

He still says nothing

“Seriously! They’ll be here any moment, you really need to go!” You say with urgence.

His silence continues as he slowly creeps forward, slamming the door behind him.

“Why would I leave?” He purrs. “I paid for this.”

“Wait, you're my client!?” You ask.

Mando stops just a few in front of you. In a slow, deep voice, Mando says “Y/n, you can quit now, admit you were wrong... and we’ll head back to the ship.” You can tell he has a devilish smirk under his helmet.

You pause for a moment. “Ha…..no way, Mando. I’m not backing down.” You say nervously.

“Are you sure about that, pretty girl?” He says, taking another step closer to you. He looks down on you, staring directly into your eyes. Your “gulp” is audible. Your pussy starts to pulse as you take in everything that’s happening.

Towering over you, he puts his fingers under your chin and lightly tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Because I won’t hold back.” He asserts. “I’ll be as rough with you as I am with every other whore I’ve fucked.” He says, pulling off his gloves.

“Good.” You say. “Don’t hold back.”

With that, he steps forward grabbing your neck, shoving you into the wall. You whimper loudly and he grinds his rock hard cock onto your crotch before turning you around and pushing you harder into the wall, and rolling his cock against your ass. You could tell he was big, very big. He quickly pulls back and shoves your shorts down with a grunt, exposing your bare ass. You gasp and he rubs the soft skin on your butt before slapping it hard. You let out a yelp as your mouth falls open. He aggressively slaps your ass several more times.

He chuckles lightly. “You said you could take this, so show me how good of a slut for me you can be, little girl.” He says. Your pussy throbs at the filthy language he’s using.

He drags you to the bed and bends you over. One finger enters you as you moan. “I spent a lot of credits on this, it better be worth it.” He says as he pumps his finger in you repeatedly. You cry out.

“Damn this pussy is fucking tight!” Mando says through his modulator. You moan loudly as his thumb starts circling your clit.

Still bent over the bed, and his free hand moves up your body and roughly grabs and kneads your tits. He aggressively rips off your shirt. You can feel your pussy dripping on Mando’s hand as your arousal pulses through. He continues to tease you as he circles your clit. “Fuck, this pussy is wetter and tighter than I imagined. Why you so wet, little girl, you like it rough?” Mando says.

All you can respond with are light, breathy moans. And then, Mando pulls his fingers out and lightly slaps your pussy. You let out a yelp. “Answer me.” Mando commands.

“Ye– Yes. Fuck, I like it rough Mando.” You respond.

“Good. Let’s see your skills, my little whore” he says as he kicks your feet apart to spread your legs. You feel his finger flick your clit and you whine loudly.

Without warning you feel his thick long cock enter your pussy. The pain was so pleasurable that you see stars. He sets a brutal pace. He continues to rail into you as you scream his name. “Mando! Fuck Mando, ahh!” You hear his heavy breathing through his modulator.

“Fuck.” Mando spits out. “This is the tightest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

“You– you ha– have the biggest cock– cock that has ever fuc– fucked me.” You return. Your pussy starts to throb. Without warning you cum and release a rush of fluid onto his cock as your entire body shakes.

“Ahhh, what a good girl, cuming around my cock” Mando says as he pulls out of you.

Your leg muscles give in, you sink forward into the bed. Mando flips you over so you’re lying down facing up toward him. “What a desperate little thing you are.” He growls. Mando takes a moment and admires your completely naked body all spread out for him. You are so small underneath him. Your doe-eyes are wide, your mouth still agape, panting for breath, and your pussy glistening from your cum.

Mando then grabs you by your waist. “On your knees.” He orders as he shoves you to your knees. He takes his length in his hand and strokes his cock in front of your face a few times.

You quickly gather your composure and take a second to admire his enormous member. You bite your lip and look up to him. Mando puts his hand on the back of your head and takes a fist full of your hair. You stick your tongue out and lick his cock up and down a few times before putting the tip in your mouth. You try your best to tease him, but before long, Mando pushes your head further down his cock. You start bobbing your head up and down, trying each time to take more of him in your mouth. Mando remains still at first, just using his hand to guide your head up and down his shaft. You start moaning and move your eyes up to his helmet, with this Mando begins thrusting into your mouth. His cock hits the back of your throat. “Fuuuucckkk.” Mando lets out while face fucking you. You hear his little moans in between your gagging. “I love the sound of you gagging on my cock.” Mando asserts. “And you look so pretty on your knees with it shoved down your throat.”

Doing your best to breathe through your nose, you can feel his length tensing in your mouth. “Mm gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours up with my cum.” You let out a moan and can feel his hot liquid shooting into your mouth. Mando pulls out of you and puts himself back in his pants. You’re now naked kneeling in front of him while he towers over you fully clothed and armored. You’ve never been so turned on in your life.

You pant and look up at him. Your face is covered in spit and cum and your hair is a mess. He bends down and runs his thumb across your bottom lip before putting it in your mouth. You suck his thumb. “Good girl.” Mando purrs.

Mando pulls his thumb out of your mouth, stands up, and takes a few steps back. You slowly rise up and take a deep breath, trying to comprehend everything that just happened. You turn around to reach for your clothes.

“Thanks for destroying my new work clothes, Mando.” You say picking up the ripped pieces of the tiny top he tore off of you.

“You won’t need them anymore, you’re only working here for a day.” You grab a short white silk robe hanging on the wall, and put it on. “And what if I have other clients today?” You say mockingly.

“You won’t.” Mando says. “I purchased you for the entire day.” He says walking to the door. You stand there feeling a mixture of astonishment and arousal at the knowledge that Mando paid a ship load so that only he would be able to fuck you.

Mando opens the door. “After you.”

“You realize that this means I win the bet, right? You understand that you paid me in order for you to lose the bet?”

“Sure, sweetheart. Congratulations. Now, we need to get back to the ship, and you need to rewire the calcinator.”

***************************************

Masterlist

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars smut #mando x reader #pedro pascal smut #mandalorian smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 3 years ago

Text

A Siren Song

Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader

A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)

Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.

Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly

Word Count: 3,825

You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head.

As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you.

You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.

“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”

“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”

“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.

“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks.

You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.

He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication.

You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”

You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.

“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile.

“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”

“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.

“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”

“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”

“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”

You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”

He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.

The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”

You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”

You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”

He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed.

“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”

He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it.

You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”

You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”

You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”

“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly.

“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”

You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”

You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”

She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”

You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”

“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.

You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”

She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”

You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”

“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.”

“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”

You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off.

Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”

You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”

“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”

You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”

“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.

You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”

“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”

He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.

“Fine.”

You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”

He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”

You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically.

He glares.

It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar.

“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.

“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.

“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.

The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”

Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.

“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.

The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”

You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks.

She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.

“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.

“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.

“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.

You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”

“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.

You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.

You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”

“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”

“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.

“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.

Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.

A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible.

You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.

You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.

Drowning.

There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.

His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”

~~~

Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”

You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”

“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”

She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”

“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole.

Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.

“I’m gonna go-”

“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”

You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.

He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye.

He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands.

You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent.

The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line.

In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.

Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”

He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.

“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”

He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water.

Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there.

His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.

“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.

He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you.

“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.

He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.

“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat.

He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.

“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”

You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be.

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”

You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”

“Will you regret this?”

You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”

His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”

Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten.

“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.

He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.

You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls.

He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.

His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you.

But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.

He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”

You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers.

You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.”

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.

You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”

He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble.

“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens.

You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.

His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.

“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center.

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.

“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”

He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”

You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”

He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.

Robert looks at you, “Hands.”

You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.

“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”

You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy.

The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.

He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.

“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.

He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered.

“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.

He grins, “Y/n...”

You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder.

You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”

You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.

He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.

“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.

He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”

Part 2?

#harley quinn #harley quinn x reader #rick flagg #bloodsport #bloodsport x reader #robert dubois x reader #robert dubois #idris elba #suicide squad #suicide squad 2 #dc #dc smut #dc fanfiction #fanfiction #smut

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years ago

Text

Hates to, Hate you.

Word Count: 8k

Summary: Harry realizes that hurting Y/N broke him into pieces and tries to win her back with the confession of true feelings, will Y/N let him? If yes, how? How will he walk through fire for her?

Pairing: Famous!Harry x Reader!with anxiety.

AU: fake dating, slow burn, sexual tension, enemies to lover!

Warning: Mentions of violence, sexual assault, language, adult topics.

PART 1, MASTERLIST

"Please, stop." He says dolefully rubbing his eyebrows to get rid of the ache pounding in his head.

He's miserable. It hurts to not have her with him. It's been two tragic months of going through constant sleepless nights, disrestless stomach, intoxicating himself to forget her, staring at things like a hawk and missing her terribly.

He was alone before her and never felt this lonely.

He sees her everywhere. In his dreams and her shadows in his drawing room getting excited over a ceramic vase someone gifted him. Dancing in his kitchen to the beat of pink floyd and hip-checking him for a cheerful nudge, in his back garden rescuing a sparrow who broke it's neck and in his attic stressing over her assignments.

Everything reminds him of her. The fruity drinks that the barista's handing to the people, the fairy lights upon their heads and how she used to fond over them —- buying it for his bedroom too and when he refused to hang them, she just brushed off his snarky comment and did it herself.

The ring in Harris finger floods back all the bitter-sweet memories of the time he refused to have a lil fun with her, (Y/N and Harris made friendship rings and bracelets for eachother with the colorful beads to spend their boring time in his home waiting for him to write some lines before they went to a gumball shop) as they try to knock some senses in their friend's brain, "You tried to dodge a heartbreak and still ended up shattering your heart, yourself." They worry about him. That he's been bearing the pain all alone and not sharing it with anyone.

His voice croak-y and hoarse, "How's she?" The question haunts him. She blocked his phone number and even in the wee hours of night he wrecks his mind whether he should call her or not, he couldn't because she doesn't want to hear his voice.

He misses her voice. He misses her complaints and whines as if they filled the stoic parts of his life with happiness.

"How'd I know?" Harris lowers down to rest their elbows on the table, "I -- I thought . . she isn't in contact with ye'?" When Harris shakes their head with a gesture that he's being truthful it sinks his heart furthermore.

He clears his throat, twisting the jewels on his hand and sucks his bottom lip to muster some courage, "I've been seeing someone." Harris chokes on the boba they were chewing on for so long, "You what?" They are completely perturbed at his statement. Even though they've been working together and been friends before Y/N came in the picture, she's still their bezzy and we don't betray our bezzies like that.

"Yeah, someone to help me sort me feelings out." Harry frowns confusedly and then realization washes upon him so he becomes frantic in his chair, "No . . not what you're thinkin'." He runs his fingers through his hair to subside the twitch in them.

"A therapist, 'm talkin' bout a therapist . ." He sighs watching his tea waft down sympathetically.

"Oh. That's a good start, Harry!" Harris tries to bring the same dimply boyish smile that used to flutter over his lips whenever she used to tease him, unfortunately it never appears.

Y/N didn't handle her first ever heartbreak well. She lost her appetite, her focus on her studies and to her surprise didn't shed a single tear –-- it just kept piling in her chest and she waited for the moment it'd burst until she saw those pictures plastered all over social media. Pictures of him with some model that isn't a shorty pants like her at all, totally how those ladies described his type to be and someone with whom he wouldn't be embarrassed to hang out with.

She's everything, Y/N's jealous of. Those sparkling blue eyes compared to her boring brown ones, handsome figure and the radiance of richness.

Then she got stuck into her life responsibilities and worried about other things such that; she wasn't able to pay any bills and her flat's rent despite doing two part time jobs along with doing her class-fellows assignments in return of money and still got kicked out of it. Her close friend offered her to live in her studio and she has made it her kitchen, study, sleeping room with her stuff and clothes scattered everywhere.

She lives on noodles and toasted breads sometimes treating herself with delights of kit-kat bars in the middle of nights.

Watches her friend do her work and leave when the night comes by —- she has never felt this lonely in her entire life.

"So, was it love at first sight?" Nora her friend asks, handing her cuppa tea and a scone. Y/N let a weak sad smile slip, shaking her head and reminiscing all those moments where she was falling in love with him without even realizing, "Falling in love slowly patiently is the most beautiful . . . at some time I used to loathe his existence but staying with him and after knowing him, it was like --— an escapeless tunnel. I didn't realize it, till one day I woke up and my heart saw him in a different light, where I wanted to give him all me lovin' but he wasn't ready for it." She shrugs sipping the hot beverage and doesn't flinch from the burn that tingles at the tip of her tongue.

When she put her cup aside Nora takes her hand assuring her sweetly, "You'll have that person soon -- he's just on his way, with a big bouquet of roses and a teddy bear to give you the lovin' you deserve." Y/N giggles at that waving her off and not showing how her person is still Harry. What does she do to forget him? To fool her in thinking he isn't her first love.

"Aish, Nora aren't you gettin' late? Gooo." She had some clients to meet before she stopped here at studio to grab some things but it turned into a girlie hangout, "Take care honey and don't forget to put a bucket there." She points to the corner where water's dripping from the rooftop and Y/N exhaled an exasperated sigh of breath when the door clicks leaving her alone yet again.

It was past twelve and when usually she pulls an all nighter to study -- today she decided to sleep early. Her bad habit of overthinking kicks in again, this time it's not over some silly thing but she ponders over where she went wrong? She should've kept her feelings to herself and atleast would have been sleeping in her bed cuddled with her chonky cat Zippy.

She misses Zippy badly.

A noise of door unlocking loudly drags her from her reverie and her heart pounds against her ribcage ready to break it. Who could be at this hour of night? It could be Nora since she's the only one who got keys to the place.

Sitting up quickly she squints against the blinding lights and watches someone's boot stepping over her blanket that flopped onto the floor from the sofa she's sleeping on.

"Kevin? What are you doing here?" He's Nora's boyfriend and her classfellow. He just shrugs tumbling his way towards the sofa and she tries to scoot back from him as much as possible, "I'm here to see you. . ." He slurs. It knocks her breath out, filling terror in her veins as the heels of her feet rub against the leather of the couch in her effort to be away from him.

"What? This's not appropriate I -- I . . suggest you to call Nora s –- so, what're you doin —-" She squeaks in fear sinking into the couch when he towers over her and traps her under him with his hands on either side of her body aggressively, "I like you. Why don't you get it!!" She flinches when he shouts angrily with bloodshot eyes and the smell of alcohol disgusts her springing tears in her eyes.

"Please, stop . . ." She whispers with silent tears running down her throat using all her strength to push at his shoulders but he grips her hips tightly and yanks at her sleeping shirt revealing the strap of her bralette. She couldn't even cry for help. It's useless so putting some belief in herself for the last time she uses all her power and kicks him in his crotch pushing him roughly on the floor.

His nails tear at her delicate skin but she doesn't care before running out of the studio ignoring the names he's calling her from behind.

She runs away, away and away. Not thinking twice where she's going before crossing the bridges and tunnels. It feels like her ears are bleeding with the echo of loud horns of traffic and the hopelessness of her life makes her fall on her knees. She cries all the tears she was bottling up for months feeling like she's running out of time and reaching dangerously near to her end.

She's been in the same neighbourhood she's been before many times. The chilly wind doesn't prick goosebumps over her skin, the night's darkness doesn't scare her and the stray dog that's barking somewhere in far doesn't affect her at all as she stares at the door from where she has stepped into her comfort space many times.

Harry's with Scottie. His childhood friend who's here in London for some shoot. They were lounged in the living room talking their hearts out and their cringey memories from when they were small when he halted mid-talk, jaw slacking when his eyes took the sight of someone standing at his main door from the multiple security screens appearing on the telly.

He doesn't believe at first. Thinking he's hallucinating and that maybe he just saw a flicker of a ghost but when she looks up revealing her sad face and those big brown eyes he rushes to open the door.

"Fuck." He breathes out working on the heavy cold locks of the oak door with shaky hands anxiously and she was about to walk away with her back turned to him when he spurts out her name in haste, "Y/N." She listens to him. Insides breaking with the nirvana and scent of him surrounding her.

His breath hitches in his throat when she spins to meet his apprehensive gaze and she doesn't give him a chance to have a proper look at her before falling in his arms, her head hitting his chest and body shaking vigorously as she sobs sadly.

"Darlin'?" He asks worriedly, slipping his arms around her shoulders to lull her in his embrace, "Are you oka?" He feels like his stomach ate his heart as he anticipates an explanation from her and she isn't doing anything but crying.

"You're scarin' me, pet. What happened honey?" He pulls away to cradle her face in his calloused palms. His chests pangs with hurt and remorse upon seeing her tear stained cheeks, wobbly blue lips, and disheveled state.

He steps inside with her still in his arms and rubs his hand down her spine to calm her down as little sad sniffles and hiccups keep slipping out of her mouth.

He sits her on the sofa squatting down infront of her and Scottie brings her water. When she refuses to drink it because Harry strokes his thumb against the apple of her cheek, "Shh, 's okay . . you're okay. You're with me now, sweet girl." It's like the world and anything else has blurred around him and his ever priority's focusing on her only. His observant gaze dawdles from her face to her bruised shoulder emitting an afflicted gasp of trepidity from between his lips and it deepens to a growl when it fell over her hip-bone where the fabric of her pyjama's spotted with blood.

He glances up at Scottie who gives him a knowing look of horror. He gets closer to her and she doesn't retract as his thumb streaks away the blood oozing from her shoulder gently, saying nothing as he examines it.

After a brief pause Y/N's heart skips a nervous beat when he tilts her chin to have a better look at her face, taking in the evidence of someone handling his petal so brutally it left scratches at her face.

Harry looks her dead in the eyes. His anger barely restrained tippling from the pot ready to leave burns, his voice is tense and quite, ears heating with wrath.

"Who did this to you?"

"Kevin." The tears are back at her waterline more concerned that he's panicking because of her and Scottie sits beside her massaging her shoulders.

"Kevin, who?" Harry's question is curt controlling himself from finding this mother fucker himself and beat the shit out of him, "H -- he's my friend's boyfriend, I though --– was sleeping in her studio 'n 'n --- when he . . . he —-- " She hides her face in her palms unable to speak but Harry quickly pulls her down in a comforting hug whispering sweet things to stop her crying.

She parts from him with puffy eyes and swollen lips shaking her head at her stupidity, "I … I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here, 'm gonna leave — ' " She's a weeping blubbering mess trying to stand up on her jello legs with the help of the couch's armrest.

He catches her wrist crying out, "No! Don't! please, please stay . . . . fo' me?" Scottie has never seen him like this. Bended out of shape for a person, begging them on his knees to protect them as he rambles loudly.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden on you, I -- I'll go in the morning." Since she has nowhere to go it's better she sleeps here for a night instead of on the streets.

Harry finds it ironic. That once he didn't want her overnights now he wants her all days and weeks, perhaps till the end of his life.

He's gonna win her back.

He hands her his tattered comfy sleeping clothes and the spare toothbrush leaving her to it. When he comes back downstairs Scottie's waiting for him at the main door.

"You should report a file against that bastard the first thing in the morning." Scottie tells him seriously and he nods. His head snaps when she spoke softly, smiling at him, "You're in love."

"What?"

"I haven't seen you like that with anyone, Harry. Make it to her foolish boi -- tell her what you feel." She laughs, jolting him with his shoulders and he smiles timidly bidding her a good-bye.

The door to her room's ajar opened as he peeks inside to make sure she's okay and sighs deeply when finds her staring blankly at the ceiling. The floorboard creaks when he pads inside quietly and her stare diverts to him while he stands on the foot of bed, "I read somewhere that cuddlin' helps ye'sleep better, you w'na try?" She hums in return, fisting the duvet under her chin and slip shuts her eyes remaining stiff in her spot when he slides under the duvet closer to her.

She turns into a puddle when his long arms wrap around her tummy, "Is this okay?" His voice a mere whisper of care earning an honest nod from her -- his thigh strings over her legs to cocoon her in his warmth completely, ". . and this?" She again nod at him so,

He smushes his cheek into the crook of her neck and she could feel something moist on her skin while his lips puckered to speak, "Y/N?" He murmures broken and sad snuggling more into her.

"Hmm?" She hums, the exhaustion from walking and crying this much forcing her to sleep, "I've missed you, terribly." Her heart leaps and she wants to exchange the familiarity of emotions but her tongue remains heavy in her mouth.

Her toes curls and fingers clutches the wrinkly fabric of the pillow case she had her head rested on but now it's slipping down from over it due to her body shaking vigorously as she tries to escape those filthy, gruesome hands like a terrifying shadows of evil choking her throat and sucking the life out of her.

Harry's head snaps down to where she was snuggled to his side moments ago when she murmur-yells no,no,no,no'. He feels like someone placed a heavy brick over his chest at the sight of his lovie writhing like a leaf petrified of whatever she's dreaming of and his shoulders rolls back while he perches on his elbow to shake her gently out of it.

"Y/N . . ." He remains dulcet. Chewing onto his already swollen bottom lip since he didn't even close his eyes the entire night manipulating the plush flesh, he doesn't know what kept him awake —- but it sure was this sense of responsibility to make her feel protected under his wings. She smacks his arm away pushing at his chest with her all might to skid away to the edge of the bed in her sleepy state, so he quickly hunches on wobbly knees to catch her before she falls.

"It's just me, Angel, Harry –- wake up darlin'," His heart beating ominously frantic and head jumbling with horrible thoughts of what she's going through as her warmed up cheeks soak with tears, he has never seen her like this, he never wanted to see her for the first time after months like this --- shattered to pieces and drained of her energy.

He smooths his thumb to caress her cheek slightly and swipe those sad tears away. She wakes up with a gasp making him jerk his chin back, blinking rapidly to confirm her surroundings and her fearful vision zeros to his panicked features. She places her palms against his pectorals to make sure he's real and there and that ugly nightmare just ended, "Harry?" He gulps the thick web of tears down his throat and bobs his head.

"Yes, sweet girl, Harry . . ." The very streaks of golden rays sneak through the curtains and dances between their faces as she fists the hem of his shirt, "It was just a nightmare." He assures her running his hand up and down her arms to calm her down.

"Don't be afraid, dovie' won't let anybody hurt ya from now on, g'na protect you —--" It was the last straw for her before she flipped him over and climbed out of his bed to get out from his room.

"Shit." He drives into a state of frenzy following her down the stairs like a puppy almost missing a step or two as she wears the slippers she came in last night, "Where ye' goin'?" His muscles twitch in a hurry to make his next move and save whatever's between them that's keeping him sane, " Dunno, away from you." She shrugs, lost in her own fog and the sting in his heart's unbearable with the inflammation of hurt.

"Why?" He tumbles through the last step and infront of her, eyes bloodshot and heart how from the squeezing agony of loosing her for second time for the same cause.

"Because, I w'na forget about you!!" The scream she had in her lungs to convey her anger gets stuck in her throat. His shoulders slump from the burden of guilt and regret.

"Why?" He feels like throwing up with the unbearable anguish of him hurting to a point he wants to wash his memories out of her mind.

"Because you make me so confused, Harry…" Her face pinches into an exasperated expression of hopelessness while she nudges him aside to pass by him and to the main door but he catches her wrist before she could step outside and never come back to him, "I wouldn't confuse you from now on …. 've been better fo' you y/n, 'cos I want you to know that I'm yours." His confession springes her off guard by pure stupefaction and when she looks at him -- he's already gazing at her as if she's the moon surrounded by singing stars.

"Please, let me fight for you baby." Tears springs at his waterline ready to welcome a sob out of his lungs. Because he knows he'll be unable to live his life without her, his love will rot in the cage of his heart because he'd never be able to express it for anyone except her.

He continues not holding back anything from her instead unlocking another love language and that's being vulnerable and completely defenceless to her, "While being with you I still thought a part of me was in love with my ex and I didn't want ya to be me second priority, could neve', was so so wrong 'cos even though you're not my firsts you're gonna be my lasts. I'll make sure that you're." He gulps down the tears blocking his wind pipes and making it difficult to speak.

"I want you to give us another chance, to forgive me and give me a proper chance to love you 'cos that's what you deserve . .." The sincerity and genuineness in his stained smaragdine irises turns her pudgy in his hold, ". . . you deserve all the lovin' in this world, honey."

"Work for it then." She tells him and his pretty eyes widen adorably as of some golden fish, a vivacious smile adorns his features and he doesn't take a moment before swiping her off her feet and into his arms to hug her tightly.

His insides feels like nourishing after a time with contentment and satisfaction.

To have his loved one in his arms.

In his life.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank youuu." He rambles into the crook of her neck, elated and joyful. Swaying their bodies together and making her smile softly after a prolonged time of suffering.

She'll heal.

He'll make sure to put ointment of affection and love on her wounds to help her heal, for herself but nobody else.

"You've got to be kidding me!" She mutters putting the alcohol swab on his torn bleeding knuckles and he squeaks locking his calf around her ankle, "Ouch! Ye' mad woman."

Harry and her went to file a report against Kevin, along with Nora who became her witness because she despises that disgusting of a man to be even around her and her studio let alone her boyfriend.

Harry was her biggest support through the whole process and dropped her off assuring her he'll pick all her stuff from Nora's place. There he was, Kevin. Stumbling at the footpath after Nora kicked him and his luggage out.

Harry's very patient and optimistic but not when his loved ones get hurt. He didn't know what was happening around him before he sprinted towards Kevin and punched him square in his face, breaking his nose and busting his own knuckles with a fierce shout of "y'son of a bastard!"

"If I ever . . . ever see ya near her, I promise that you wouldn't be able to see the living daylight." He grunted, resisting to hit him in the shin with his boots and walked past him to the studio to collect her stuff.

He was grief stricken seeing the way she had to live and not finding her pet cat anywhere. His heart could be heard cracking into tinytinytiny pieces when Nora told him that Y/N gave it to the vet since she was unable to afford it.

When she catches him staring up at her like a love-stricken puppy she huffs wrapping a band-aid around his knuckles, "'M mad at you." He seems unfazed making her gasp when brings her closer with his legs wrapped around her's, "Why . . . you're always mad at me." He whines jutting out his bottom lip and she shakes her head at his silly dotiness.

"You -– you can't go hurtin' yourself fo' me, H." She's very unaware, because certainly he'd do it as many times.

She narrows down her eyes to squint him in offense when he brushes her comment off with nonchalance and raises his bandaged wrist up to her face, "Will you kiss it better' fo' me, pet?" Her insides crumbles like dry rose petals falling from a beloved book of her favourite romances.

"Hmm?" He nudges it in a questioning suppressing a smirk. She wipes her clammy and antiseptic hands down her trousers not meeting his gaze while taking his hand awkwardly but delicately closer to where her soft mouth is located; she halts glowering at him, "Only if you ask nicely."

"That wasn't nice? Thought I was being a good boy there." He mumbles diligently pulling at the hem of her shirt and she bites down a smile, fingers still wrapped round his wrist.

"Pretty please…?" He wheezes his words out begging-ly -- upper lip curving, pupils dilating and she shrugs, "..if you insist so.." His grin was immaculate that of golden sun when she pressed her lips to his knuckles carefully giving it a gentle pat afterward.

"Not doing that again." She breathes out the air she was winding up inside her for so long. Spinning on her heels to turn her back towards him and put the first aid back under the sink, "We'll see 'bout that, let's do some grocery." He stands up patting his thighs loudly, "Wouldn't be surprised if we'll find bugs in me cabinet instead of goodies."

They've been roaming isles for an hour now and they always end up fighting who will push it. Harry doesn't let her because she keeps on filling it with instant noodles, chocolate bars and sakurai oreos.

"How about we try to live till our fifties wouldn't be that beautiful?" He follows behind her closely. His chest brushes against her shoulders everytime she makes a stop to cooes over some brightly coloured food and candies, "'M trying to make it till next year, dunno 'bout you." She mutters grumpy-ly tossing another packet of cherry lollipop inside the trolley.

He puts it back.

With a strict warning glare to her way.

"I want you to stay healthy." He says sternly glaring up at her from his ducked position. She tosses the lollipop back from the shelf, "'M paying for my things." She dismisses him off panning deadly.

"Fo' fucks sake, 's not 'bout money!" He grits annoyed at her stubbornness and she arches her brow leaning against the trolley, "Harry…'m not an actress or some high-paid model. Lemme enjoy real things, okay? Or just say you'd look too outta my league standing next to me." Her brows pints down into a frown and her shoulder slumps with her body further relaxing against the trolley.

She's up for a debate with him right in the middle of the junk food aisle if that's the case.

"See. That's why I don't want to be married!" A couple from far banters off in astonishment catching Y/N completely off guard.

"Uh-ah!" She yelps getting startled from the boom of interruption and a high-pitch squeaks leaves out of her petite lungs when the trolley rolls from under her perched elbow making her stumble for a nice trip but the bang never came as Harry coiled his arm around her waist to pull her on stable feet with a firm hand over her smallest of back.

His gentle pupils flicker between her frenzied one's, noses tickling and teasing each other with each spurt of breath that rushes out of her parted soft mouth and against his cheek.

"Maybe it's not that bad after all." The couple who were planning their future based on another couple, who's not even a couple yet but trying to work on it with their shared amount of affection; sighs in awement leaving Harry and Y/N in their own bubble.

He takes her by the elbow and helps her with his lips thinned, "Careful there." His mumble is deep and coherent husk.

She didn't whine about his green vegetables, boring low fat cheese and planned meals, celery or whatever that shit is, after that. Walking by his side like a kid who just got relief from his time out punishment.

While on the counter she asked him politely rather than biting his head of, "Lemme pay please. I'm already imposing on you by staying at your place." She knows that he wouldn't let her. Harry wants to take care of her -- in every way. He just hopes she warms up to him slowly that there will be a day she thinks of his home as hers too, oh how the table turns!

T'not make her think that his love for her is only restrictive to materialistic things he lets her pay --- but for half of it.

"D'ya got a change, miss?" The cashier asks her and she cranes her neck up to him. He denies waving his credit card with a disappointed expression so she quickly takes a chewing gum from the racks beside in return for the change.

He stops in his tracks. Watching her with glinting eyes more like fawning at her when she sways on her feet happily swinging the bag in her hold side by side.

"C'mon Harry!" She grins twiddling her fingers in a gesture to usher him where she's standing beside his car, "Yup. On your command, darlin'." He shakes his head. To fetch himself from the fond-land he always enters with anything she does.

There's a low hum of telly buzzing in the room as they sit crossed legs on the coffee rug with their knees brushing if any of them moves their bum a tad, while they slurp onto the remaining soup in the noodles cup.

This whole time he wanted to say something, to talk to her, his heart out and make it a domestic routine of sharing stuff while they eat comfy in eachother's presence but seems like his tongue betrays him everytime and his needy eyes always want to admire her and the little things she does.

He licks his lips, nodding profusely when she asks for his cup and chopsticks to take to the kitchen. A huge sigh of relief vanishes out from his chest when she disappears inside giving him time to re-collect himself, he rummages through the bag to take out the chewing gum they bought at the last moment.

He rips the packet with his teeth but it remains pressed there between his morals when he senses the familiarity of the foil --- she bought a fucking condom out of accident!

At the same moment she pads outside halting in her tracks infront of him with a horrendous expression as her peepers wouldn't stop blinking. He doesn't not know what got into him but he throws it her way as if he's utterly disgusted by it.

Sinks into the couch and refuses to meet her gaze. She throws it back at him, "I don't want it, keep it you might need it." There he goes. The smugness fuels back as he outstretches his arm over the back of the couch and man-spreads scrutinizing the way her eyes linger at his meaty thighs before flicking them away with a nervous gulp.

"You've already planned it all out, hun?" He smirks rubbing the belly of his nose with his pinky's knuckle and she folds her elbows under her breasts shaking her head at his teasing, "Yeah planning to . . . murder you t'night." She laughs out evilly when his eyes widen comically.

"Hmm. I see. Didn't know ye' were this kinky 'n naughty." She rolls her eyes at his edgy nip. She wouldn't admit it but him testing her patience turns her hot and flustered.

"Night, H." She yawns and his heart grows ten times bigger at the softness of her appearance. She cranes her head against her shoulder to look at him from the spot she's standing at when his voice calls for her, "Y/N!? Ye'really into knives? In the bed I mean." His grin mischievous knowing fully well what he's doing to her as he waits for her answer propped on his knees.

She slams the door at his face and he plops back into the sofa with a pouty victorious smile.

Harry didn't realise that in the middle of watching Gilmore Girls on the telly he fell asleep straining his neck from keeping it in a weird angle, his arms hugging the pillow and feet dangling adorably nowhere. He groans knuckling away the sleep and tries to wake up when he heard a feeble noise of someone taking his name until he looks up and finds Y/N towering him with her fluffy cream blanket pinched around her head darlingly.

"What happened, pet? Y'okay!?" He gasps trying to sit up and take her precious face to inspect her properly but she shakes her head and lays him back gently.

Her nose runny and cheeks rosied as she asks for a favour from him, "Can I -- um," She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her sweater paw. He doesn't question her further and opens his long arms to welcome her for a warm embrace.

"C'mere, pet." His whisper delicate to her.

She lies down pressed to his front resting her head on his sprawled arm and scooches herself closer to him smiling shyly against his hoodie where a Harry is embroidered in pink thread. It's like a gust of fresh spring and dew of nighty mountains as Harry takes a relaxing breather snuggling her impossibly affectionately close to himself, petting down her sweet smelling hair.

"Y'can talk to me 'bout anythin'." Their heart-beats in sync as he keeps his palm spread at her back to protect her from falling, "Ye' know that right?" He pulls back to cradle her chin between his fingers and look her in eyes sincerely.

"I know that button. Sleep for now, hmm?" He smiles softly, shutting his eyes from giving out how much a mere love name's enough to fuse him into a cloud of giddiness.

In the morning though, Harry's a small spoon and Y/N a big one. Her limbs trying to latch to his body in every way possible with her cheek smashed against his shoulder blade.

His lips quirks up into a lazy loopy smile full of contentment and peacefulness as he weaves his each finger into her's to bring her knuckles to his mouth and smother it in kisses, "Rise n' shine you furball." He rasps. chin doubling adorably as he tries to look at his squirmy girl.

He turns to face her side, temples touching and lips hovering over eachother's skin. He feels her smiling against his chin as she cuddles up into him, "I'd like to make you a brekkie…." She murmurs playing with baby curls on the nape of his neck.

"Dunno 'bout that. What if you poison me, t'death?" He giggles and she smacks his belly pouting grumpy-ly.

"Offer, expired. no more brekkie for you." She tells him wiggling out of his grip and walks towards kitchen but burst into gleeful laugh when he wraps around her calves like a koala bear, "Was jokinnnn', babe." He emphasizes his words with a twinge of whine and she meanders her hand in his ruffled curls.

"Kay! Kay! But, I could only make you omelette and sour bread." He jumps back on his feet enthusiastically looping his arm around her clavicles, "No problem. Glad t'eat anythin' made from your lovely hands."

She made him brekkie and he made fabulous peach tea for them. She blabbered off and he listened with careful ears. He praised her with glinting proud eyes and she treasured these praises in her heart.

While she chewed slowly he messaged his manager that he couldn't come to any working place for a week or so. He wants to make it special and memorable for them, their honeymoon phase.

"D'ya have any class today?" He asks her leaning towards her atop the counter, "Nope 's Saturday dummy." She chuckles flicking her thumb against his forehead and he gives a dimpled grin with bolted shut eyes.

"Yeah … silly me."

"Why?"

"So that I could take ye' ona date." His inners bouncing desperate to know her answer, "Me?" She points at herself surprised with parted lips.

"Yes you, is there somebody else sitting with us? Hello?" He calls for that non-existent person and she suckles her bottom lip to subside her squeals down. She breathes out, "Some ghostie? Evil spirit? Jesus himself —-" She cuts his banter of. With a light slap to the back of his hand.

"Okay." She says with an excited shake of head happiness bare in her words and Harry literally slips from his seat padding towards her in haste, "I'd love to." She confirms with a sweet smile and he hooks his nimble finger around her jeans loop to pull her closer to him for a fervid emotional hug.

She was a frolic mess in her room trying out her outfits and fitting into her skirts, trousers anything that could match perfectly. Deciding to terminate any ideas to wear cotton floral sun-dresses instead ends up tucking a baby pink sweater into her chequered white and black plaid trouser along with a pair of Mary Janes booties.

She took huge puffs of breath to calm her wild heart down when the knock on her door appeared. He decided to be a full on romantic today doing all the date rituals without any shame dressing up in a silk shirt three shades lighter than her's, with a pussy bow around his neck and she thinks she couldn't be more in love with him as he has a bunch of sunflowers and jasmines in the cracks of his jewels adorned fingers.

"Well, well, well, Look who came to their enemy's door holding presents." She smirks and he scowls, "Oh cut it. 'M here to pick y'up fo' our date."

What makes her lose her mind's Zippy on his shoulder.

"Oh my goodness! Harry!" She leaps towards him and takes her fluffy beast in her arms and showers Zippy's crown with many many kisses, "Thank you!" She cries out joyfully wrapping her free arm around his waist and cuddles him for dear life.

"I lo —-- " She thinks it'd be embarrassing to say it on the first date and Harry almost had a mini heart-attack but she changed her words, "I can't be more grateful to you, thank you so much."

"Now, stop thankin' me hunny." He gives her the flowers he plucked himself from his backyard and kisses the apple of her cheek turning her into a gooey mesh.

"Where is it?" She avoids checking him out.

"Why should I tell ya?" He nudges her to lock her elbow around his and she gazes up at him with loving eyes, "'cos 'm your date that's why."

"Bribe me then." He grins bashfully.

"Harry!!" She gasps and huffs tipy-toeing timidly to plant a soft kiss to his chin but it lands against his throat making him thin his lips to give out a noise that could embarrass both of them.

"Not telling you." He squeaks dragging her outside into the porch and she whines, "You leech!"

"You did not!" She snaps her neck in utter exhilaration from the view in front of her and towards Harry who's watching her with puffed cheeks to not to give out his bunny smile as her face turns guppy. The sunshine dawdles around them and she pulls him down to her level with the tug of their intertwined hands, "You're somethin' else, Styles." It warms his blood. Bursting sentiments of pure love and amiability through each orifice that leads to his heart.

"Only fo' you." He whispers stroking the plush of her cheek -- restraining to place his needy lips on her alluring pillow one's inviting him to have a good taste of their sweetness before they could taste the ripeness of strawberries growing at the farm he just took her.

"Uhm. Let's see who could collect more!" She grins pushing herself three steps away from him with support of his pecs, "What's the prize?" He asks pawing at her hips to keep her in intimate distance and she giggles tapping his chin.

"A feeling of saccharine-ss and sweetness when we'll eat those strawberries out." She tries not to step on heavy branches that are still growing and makes her way to the fresh patch, "Perhaps, that could be acquired from eatin' somethin' else out too." His wet lips brushes against her earlobe as he speaks, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You're being very loud and lewd." She pokes him in ribs. Squatting down to pluck a juicy perfectly sized strawberry and hovering it against his mouth to give him a taste, "Hmm what could I say 'm a man of dirty words." His eyes darken to an intoxicating shade of emerald as his heart-shaped magenta lips wrap around the strawberry to split it in two with his teeth.

He still remembers. How her mouth tasted that night, how her lips came molding around his's like a stamp of a lover's letter and her body fitted against his's like a lost piece of puzzle.

Just made for him.

"Harry …" She's out of words. Maybe, breath.

"Yes dovie?" He hooks his finger into her belt's loop to saturate the thread like distance between them and makes tight hold at the nape of her neck to crane her head up to meet his honey eyed gaze, "D'ya know how to make strawberry mochi?" His shoulder slumps at her question and he rests his cheek atop her temple cutely.

"Noo." His voice sort of whine-y.

"No, problem. We'll make it together." She chuckles turning back to collect the strawberries into her basket.

She never had this fun. Messing around with him. Feeding eachother the sweet fruit. Him scaring her that some rat sprinted by her feet and enjoying the way she jumps at him, only wheezing comically when she throws a blow at him.

Her giggles bounces off each and every ivory flower and leafy plant as he pins her to the viridescent grass, with his thighs and tickles her non-stop. What started as raspberries turns into sloppy smothers of kisses all over her face.

"Harry!!" She bursts into another fit of laughter, "Stop." She warns him squeezing her thighs around his waist and he giggles challenging her.

"O'what? Huhh?" She closes her eyes nuzzling into his arm that's trapping her down, "Or I'll kiss you…" Her voice gentle and dulcet making his grip loosen and heartbeat fastens like a thunderbolt.

"'M not afraid of that." He gives a toothy grin sneaking a glance at her hand which's gliding up his throat to cup his cheek, eyelids fluttering like petals from breeze as she smudges her sweet mesh coated lips against his's in a tenderly ardent, and yearningly amiable kiss feeling her pulse ring in her ears with so much force.

His fingers make their home down her smooth hair to cup the nape of her neck, elbows digging into mud when he lifts her up to deepen the kiss sloppily. Just her. Only her. Swirling inside of him as his very thought.

Their noses crooking perfectly, skins kissing and bodies hitched to eachother with the knot of souls.

She whimpers into his mouth squishing the poor strawberry she was holding in her free hand from the intensity of fierce sentiments she's spiraling in; to have him all and swallow him all because he's that damn gorgeous. His tongue pokes and tickles the plush insides of her small mouth tasting the strawberry straight from where he loves the most. His belly burning with the fire of desire feeling the way her body's reacting with puriency to his subtle touches of affection.

He was dying to have a kiss from her the day she gave him her lips that night and he couldn't resist but to think about it regularly.

A wet filthy sound bubbles around them when they part away with the remnants of spit in the form of intricate strings connecting them; that breaks when he relaxes his forehead against her's taking a good breather of mossy air.

"S' messy." He tuts when his eyes fall at her palm covered in strawberry pulp.

She gasps giddy-ly when he pokes his pink tongue out and takes a huge swipe up her palm with an erotic hum that rattled her insides.

"H -- arry." She nibbles at her bottom lip to filter noises she's unable to hold meanwhile he sucks her fingers one by one to clean them, her panties twisting with an ache of want.

"Hmm. All nice 'n clean, now we should go." He says flipping her wrist to act as if he's inspecting it. Brushes the dirt of his trousers leaving her baffled and grumpy. When she doesn't stand up he squats down at her level arching a brow at her and before she could know what's happening she's thrown over his broad shoulder like a rag doll.

Her squeals hearty and giggly as she tries to punch his back but her breath gets caught in her throat when his large hand comes spanking her butt-cheek. He waits for her reaction —- grinning cheekily when she sucks in her weak mewls and grabs the back of his neck blabbering his name off.

He puts her back on the ground once out on the gravel path and hands her the basket piled with strawberries. Ducks down to sponge a kiss to her cheek telling her to stay glued to her spot as he leaves to pay.

She smiles down at her feet then at the sky revinding all the moments and their lovely kiss that makes her feel all warm and stupidly gooey.

While boarding the train he wiggles his finger behind himself to get a hold on her and keep her close to him, craning his neck with a lopsided sly smile, "Hold me hand."

"If you insist." She nods with a grin slipping her fingers over his palm and he wovens them with his own with a firm grip stepping inside the train and helps her to do so with his free hand behind her head.

She sighs. Sitting with her back pressed against the window of the train. One leg folded and other dangling from the seat as she stares at Harry with a pouty smile.

"Don't ya think you're sittin' too far away from me?" He says, grabbing her knee, "Come here." And slides her towards himself now their thighs overlapping. He doesn't like even the mere distance between them —-- might sound sappy but he wants to be like her scent.

"Happy?" She pinches his cheek and he winces dramatically ruffling her already loose tresses of hair making her look as if she was on a roller coaster minutes ago, "aren't you a one clingy bunny!" She huffs trying to blow away the hair falling in her eyes. He bobs his head in agreement and slings his elbow around her shoulders to tuck her under his chin protectively.

"Okie, now add some sugar in it —- aish slow down …" She coughs waving away the sugar dust tickling her nostrils as Harry poured so much sugar all at once. He has his chin rested on her head and her hips crooned against his thighs as they make the strawberry and vanilla mochi together.

His puffer jacket on her shoulders (To the time they went to buy grocery stuff it started being cold and Harry being a mommy he took out his jacket and bundled her up in it) —- She sneezes and he quips pecking her hair, "Bless your heart." Fetches her a tissue too.

"Thank you, bubs." She giggles grabbing his jaw bringing him down to smooch a kiss to his lips. She pulls back but he persists snaking his palm around the nape of her neck to keep her put —- she gives in with her heart fluttering like candle flame in a destructive storm.

Turns in his embrace and hooks her elbows behind his head patching tiny, tiny, tiny pecks on his pillowy lips until he gets desperate to kiss her mouth and tongue pushing her to his front by gliding his hand into the back-pocket of her jeans.

Her head lulls. Feeling as if the kitchen got filled with candy clouds floating around her when he cradles her cheeks in his both palms lapping at her bottom lip and nips at it with every whimper of desire that falls, "Mine." He breathes out rubbing the bridge of his nose up and down her cheek like a puppy nuzzling into his favourite plushie.

"Yours." She says without any hesitation.

He smashes his wet lips back on hers. Swirls of gleeful colours surrounding them as he feels like he could kiss her forever.

She gasps gazing down lustfully at his wine cherried lips when he holds her from waist and sits her on the wooden counter, "I want you to take me." She murmurs nailing at the silk of his top and he paws at her hip-bones cravingly, it makes her feel like one the most desired women alive.

"I'm all yours to pleasure you lovie'," He looks her in the eyes with so much love and affection it melts her whole, "Just ask me and I'll give me girl what she wants …. " He says trailing sloppy kisses down her throat. Her head falls against the tiled wall giving him more access to her skin --- so he could mark her as he wishes.

The heat from his mouth to her bare skin arouses her to an extent she feels wetness sticking to the insides of her thighs with each grind of his crotch against her's.

She tugs at the roots of his curls, mouth parted around a moan when he grazes his touch over her plump breasts, "Is this okay?" He asks breathlessly and she bobs her head vigorously latching onto him.

"Yes, please, more … " He blinks to let reality sink in when she raises her arms in the air for him to get rid of her clothes.

He smiles. Hard. Crinkles forming by his eyes and cheery lines around his mouth as she looks up at him with those doe eyes glinting with his own reflection.

She squirms grumpily and he cackles loudly when she hooks his fingers into the hem of her jeans as a sign that "just undress me right now and fuck me hard over this counter." But, the romantic sap he's just keeps on being a tease.

"Fuck me already." She huffs locking her ankles behind his back.

"Trust me, I want it as bad as y'do but are you sure —-- "

"I'm --- just fuck …. " She cuts him off, cupping his cheeks and kisses his mouth. He groans when she sucks his swollen lip in between his teeth and lifts her pelvis grinned against his swell lining in his trouser to elaborate her neediness through actions,

He undresses her finally folding them and putting them away nicely while she stays a breathless mess just in her undies, her sheer panties soaked in her juices and profanities of moans fuses into air from both of them as Harry places his hands on her knees. Irises darkening with lust when he looks at the delicate lines of her drippy pussy lips forming from underneath the material.

"Spread your legs, I want to feel how turned on I made you feel." His voice an obscene grunt and it tingles her core making her feel she should obey him, "Fuckin' hell." His moan is dirty as he rubs the pad of his long digits against her soaked centre. His piercing gaze flitting between her thighs crumbled her in the best way possible.

She fists the hem of his top, tugging at it with the blabbering of his name.

A series of pornographic whines leaves her through her nose when he demands her to raise her bum so he could get rid of the last thing being a bother to them.

"Oh my — " She arches her spine when his fingers withered in her stickiness, between her glistening pussy lips to her mound pinching her clitoris in the way and listens to the soapy noises he's creating while lathering his hand with her juices he'd love more to coat his tongue with.

"This is what you want, hmm? For me to bend you over this counter right fucking now and pump me thick cock inside your sweet cunt from behind till you're screaming for me to ram harder inside you, so deep that you feel me in your little tummy and I keep it there for hours making you cum on it again and again — many time that you're milky and cramped around my prick like a filthy girl you're." He dips his impossibly sweet pink tongue inside her mouth and makes her sip down his dirty words through her throat not letting her mewls slip out as his lengthy finger slicks inside her causing her melt against his chest with a turmoil of emotions and heat she never felt before.

Her brain whirles with the mantra of fuckfuckfuck but her guppy lips says otherwise, she coils her arms around his shoulders scratching her nails down his neck — eyes rolling back as she shakes with the build of ecstasy.

"You're so snug and warm, sweets. Can't wait to be inside you." He husks curling his digit to give her upper wall a good rub, "Harry!" Her scream comes out gruff vibrating with a sexy octave.

"Yes, baby." He pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger staining soft wet kisses from the corner of her lips, to her rosy cheeks and down her throat sewing love bites along her veins.

"Does it feel good, hmm? 'M g'na stuff you full of my prick bet it'll make you feel like heavens --" Her brows tenses up as he forces her to keep her eyes locked with his's and groans with the throb in his cock bound to implode with each whimper of his name she lets out hiking up her knees on the counter — the heels of her feet sticking firmly against the edge of the counter giving a carnally pleasing view for him to enjoy and ooze with sticky precum.

He huffs out breathily, fingers sliding in and out at a fast pace while he moves down to take her perky nipple between his teeth teasing it with nip of his tongue, "Fuck. Mhmm baby I've so many dirty things to d'to you, would you be an atta girl and be naughty with me?" He nuzzles his curls against her skin grinding his knuckles up and down against her swollen clit.

"Yes, yes, yes." She moans trying to sink impossibly deep on his fingers. He admires her in amusement as her belly twists into ripples and she thrashes in his tight hold —- broken into pieces of vulnerability foxily.

He withers his gaze to where he's driving his fingers roughly inside her and a cold shiver runs down his spine, eyelashes fluttering and he sucks his bottom lip brutally praising her softly, "yes just like that darling taking my fingers so good —- they'll look pretty down your throat too while I'll fill your other holes with me, all me." He wraps a hand around her throat giving it a light squeeze and it was enough to spread warmth and the saccharine feeling of fullness in her every tissue gushing over his fingers.

"You're mine." He growls nipping at her sweet spot –-- wearing her out with his continuous different motions inside her. His wrist glistening with her come and her head lulls on his tanned shoulder, eyes slip shut, chest levitating with shallow breaths.

She cups his cheeks wrapping her trembling legs around his waist and kisses his smile, it's sloppy and barely a kiss with their lazy effort to keep their mouths on each other to soak into intimacy.

Next they're a moaning and crying mess on the kitchen floor with her knee hooked around his hip to keep him close as he stretches her out leaving a pleasurable burn against her squishy inviting walls.

His cock sits warm inside her pussy and his balls snug against her bum. It's torturous waiting for her to give a signal that he might move because he couldn't resist but to be rock hard inside her and fuck her for hours but his knees are laughing at him for being unable to bear the sting of cold tiles.

"You can move, 'm okay." She whispers hugging him for dear life and he nods grinding his hips slowly, the bulbous head of his dick hitting all the right spots —- he's so good at fucking.

He takes her fleshy tits in his palms caressing them with each lewd stroke of his cock inside her and treats her glistening lips from his spit back to his mouth, pecking it generously.

"Pull me hair." He groans pushing hard and guides her hand into his swirl of sweaty curls — hips stuttering, eyes rolling back into his skull erotically when she does so peppering loving kisses under his earlobe, "You're g'na ruin me lovie … fuck me please." He whines grabbing her ass and lifts her pelvis to slide inside her dripping pussy with much more roughness.

She has never seen him like this. Shredded to seams for her, sweat beading down his gorgeous face like glimmer of pearls and eyes mossed with so much lust and desperation it knocks air out of her lungs.

He rolls them over gently and her squeal turns into a shameless yawp when he feels much more bigger than before inside her with her being on top of him —- he was right she could feel him in her tummy.

She's clueless what to do. Not that she's gonna show it –- she doesn't want to give him an impression that she knows barely anything about riding but the way she begins with zealous back and forth movement digging the heels of her palms against his pecks wrecks him havoc.

"You're doin' so good pet, yes, yes, yes. Use me baby. Use me like your little fuck toy 'm c'mon." He grabs the nape of her neck and brings her down to skim his tongue over her lips, manipulating the plushiness of them with his teeth. His balls slapping against her skin as she bounces on his cock diligently and he fists the soft flesh of her bum with both of his hands to help her ride him knows she's labouring herself out, "I'm all yours." He says caressing her sides to make sure she's okay and brushes the wisp of sticky hair behind her ear.

"You're looking so sexy sitting on my dick like that -- how about I don't allow you to cum so you could keep me warm with your pussy like that fo' hours?" His pants out gripping at her thighs as his prick spills with wetness inside her and she cries out shaking, "No!" He smirks crinkled forming by his eyes and takes this chance to drive hard up inside her making her flop onto his chest.

She gasps moistly, pulsating around him feeling every ridge and vein of his cock stroking against her walls creating obscene noises of skin meeting skin and their moistures mixing soapily like gooe.

"Cum fo' me baby -- squeezing me s' tight. I know you're there." His pants laboured and heavy as he sucks his own digits coating them with his spit nicely and glides them down pressing them to her weeping bud, then flickers it in prolong circles. Toes curling. His thrusts consistent and fast. She crooks her nose against his's murmuring to him with a wavering voice.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck."

"You're gonna make me come."

Her eyes widen in surprise but her body reacts otherwise albeit she has never experienced it —- but her moans were uncontrollable when he spanked her butt cheek and she crampied down at him jolting tremendously with the wave of insanity spreading to her bones.

"I'm a naughty boy, give it to me." He kisses his teeth together man spreading and throwing his knees up to ram up inside her perfectly.

His eyes shuts till he could see white spotting behind them -- he spills inside her in form of thick ribbons and milks her cunt with it riding her out of her high. She clings to his body and snuggles into him to tone down the shivers running down her spine with each tiny orgasm she feels rushing out with his lazy thrusts.

"I'm jello." She tells him and he looks down at her with a mishevious grin, "Does that give me a reason to eat you whole?" She rolls her eyes poking at his cheek with a grossed out expression.

"I'm still inside ye', remember?" He stirs his hips to make her realise and she yelps not know if it's making her feel hot or utterly sensitive, "You're insatiable." She mumbles pouting her lips to indicate him she's dying for his lips to smooch kisses to her.

"No kidding I love the noises you make when you come undone." She confesses timidly drawing stars at his chest and he giggles kissing her temple gently, "Stop before you wake me buddy up again –- he quite fond of you." He blushes hiding his face into the crook of her neck with tiny voice.

They're canoodling under the fluffy blanket on the sofa watching telly after they just took a bath together, shampooing eachother with peach scents and drying eachother off with warm towels. She's nuzzled into his side wearing one of his baby yellow robes, his arm stays around her shoulder thumb addicted to caressing her silky cheek, sometimes spreading his fingers down her throat to tip her chin up to smooch sweet kisses on her lips.

"You're cute when you're not a pest." She giggles and he frowns comically pretending to munch her alive, "That's very rude -- you should be thankful that I lov — " Her heart almost stops functioning.

They were sipping onto their green teas and nibbling onto the strawberry mochi they made and refrigerated before when the doorbell rang making them groan in laziness.

She stood up going to see what took Harry so long on the door and got revealed to him talking instinctively to whoever rang the bell.

"Hi, Y/N." Scottie smiles at him. Carrying her luggage and Y/N looks down at her attire for a second then forwards her hand shyly. She was so scared that day –- it's a blur to her but now she watches Scottie properly she realizes …. She's the same girl from all the paparazzi photos.

Something switches off inside her. The rainbows and confettis, the moonlight and stars and the nebula of the whole galaxy she had consumed in her little body from making love to Harry just shuts down into a white noise.

Her bottom lip plumps into a pout. Eyebrows trembling from this confused feeling of some invisible thing squeezing the life out of her.

She's jealous.

"I just came here to say bye." Scottie's voice makes her focus back into reality.

"Oh…" She just nods. She doesn't return the hug even though her brain guilt trips her for that and when Scottie leaves with the air thick and tense, Harry corners her in between a wall and piece of furniture cradling her grumpy face in his careful palms speaking gently to her.

"You don't 'ave to worry 'bout her, she's just a friend …. Infact you don't have to worry 'bout anyone because I love you so so much baby that I don't see myself spending me life with anyone else." She glances up at him twice, jaw falling slack from shock and he chuckles smothering her in kind-hearted kisses when she stares at him like a hawk.

"You what!?"

"I love you, Y/N." Her eyes closing like a moth flapping nearer to fire and finding peace in burning inside it.

"I love you too so much." She whispers and welcomes his lips melting against her ardently. With the passion only lovers hold. Amiability she couldn't find anyone else but in his embrace, in his kisses and his lovemaking.

"Can we go back to cuddlin'? Me feet gettin' cold baby." He whines treading fastly into the living room while carrying her like a kitten from behind and makes squeaky noises once snoozed under the warmth of the blanket.

He touches their foreheads. Kissing the tip of her nose adorably.

"I love you." Then burst into giggles. When she returns the passion coyly.

"I love you too."

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #Harry Styles fluffy duffy

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corpsekiller · 3 years ago

Text

𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬, 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬 — 𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. gintoki sakata x genderneutral!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff, a dash of horror, ghosts, demons, mentions of rituals but nothing graphic, this is honestly just funny fluff

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. gintoki, the kids and you are supposed to hunt a demon, though you are sure ghosts and other creatures like that don’t exist and the haunted house is just going to be a fun halloween experience for kagura and shinpachi. well, you were wrong.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. this is my contribution for the wonderful collab @chaos-night set up this spooky season and i couldn’t decide what i wanted to write because i had so many ideas for this, but in the end i choose this piece. u’m so sorry this took so long, my internet didn’t work well and my mental health decided to fuck me over too, but now it’s finally done. i hope you enjoy it and check out all the other works of this collab <3 happy halloween and don’t get possessed by a demon, darlings

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 4.863 words

MASTERLIST GINTAMA COLLAB

“It’s charming!”

“It’s haunted and we’re all going to die,” Gintoki deadpans next to you, bored gaze studying the old mansion you were assigned to clear today. It’s a nice Wednesday and the sun is already disappearing behind the city, coloring the sky in soft orange hue matching the autumn leaves rustling in the chilly wind and one look at his facial expression is enough to tell you that he had other plans for this day. Still, someone came to the Yorozuya and offered them a job after they claimed to be ghost hunters this October, desperate to earn some coins here and there to pay this month’s rent and Gintoki’s pachinko debts.

The client, an old lady with smooth gray hair and a bright smile, asked them to look for a demon who apparently lives in the house she wants to buy and although your boyfriend refuses to admit it, you know he’s a scaredy-cat and would rather sit in a café on the side of a shopping street and enjoy a glass of delicious chocolate parfait than run around this old mansion and search for a supernatural being. However, it took you a lot of convincing and physical strength to force him out of his home and now that you have him right where he should be, you won’t let him escape that easily. “Maybe we should just leave it be and look for something to eat.”

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re staying here and you’re going to help us finish this job,” you scold and grab his white yukata just as he tries to make a run for it. With a harsh yank, you pull him back to his spot beside you, merely giving him a amused grin and completely dismissing the death glare he gives you in reply as he attempts to free himself out of your tight grasp.

“Come on, Y/N!”

Your hand slides past his long sleeves and his words of complaint die in his mouth. Fingers intertwine under the flowing fabric and you give him a gentle squeeze, a small gesture to give him some sort of reassurance despite the absurdity of your situation. As funny as it is to see him this antsy and jittery, you’re aware that he’s giving his best and tries to put on a brave face for the kid’s sake. You admire him for this — always looking out for those brats, always protecting them and taking care of them as a father should. (Not that he would admit it.)

Always the doting boyfriend, too.

You have known him for years, but it came to be a pleasant surprise to find that Gintoki is needy and that secret only came to light once you started seeing each other romantically. On the outside, he’s a lazy asshole with little to no ambition, wastes his money on magazines and gambling games, does nothing all day, but once you dig deeper and take a peek underneath his facade, behind those “dead fisheyes” as Hijikata likes to describe them, you find a much more caring side to him.

He’s a simple man after all and a man like him has needs too...like receiving a kiss whenever you wake up and when you go to sleep, a hug after a long day of work, head pats and back scratches, and your lap to rest in when people have been especially bothersome that day.

Now, under any other circumstances, he would’ve told you to fuck off and leave him with his precious chocolate parfait. He has better things to do than playing ghostbusters and straying around an abandoned building that appears to be close to collapsing over your heads, searching for a stupid demon who doesn’t even exist and if he would, you’d be dead in seconds anyway. Enjoying sweet strawberry ilk and reading the newest jump edition sounds far better than this, but then he catches your encouraging smile and suddenly, he’s convinced he can do this. Kinda pathetic if someone asks him, but what is he supposed to do?

He’s absolutely whipped for you and he needs the money anyway with the amounts of sukonbu Kagura manages to polish off in one sitting. That brat eats more than a whole army of samurai and every once in a while, Gintoki wonders why he hasn’t kicked her out yet; would save him a lot of food and cash he could waste on pachinko instead if the kids weren’t around, though he can’t deny that they have grown on him over the time he’s spent with them so far. Yeah, he loves these idiots as much as he loves you.

In fact, he would do nearly anything to see Kagura’s and Shinpachi’s stupid faces light up in childish smiles of joy and most importantly, he craves to see your smile too. It’s always warm, so warm and kind just like your embraces feel after an exhausting day and perhaps that’s why he only sighs defeatedly and rolls his eyes at your teasing jokes.

“C’mon, Gin-chan! I want to see if this demon really exists,” Kagura whines with a mouth full of salted seaweed, one small hand wrapped tightly around his much bigger wrist to pull him to the front door of the supposedly haunted mansion. Stumbling over the steps, he curses the girl and shoots you a helpless glance to which you respond with a shrug and a lopsided grin, quickly following the pair alongside Shinpachi and Sadaharu. Strangely, as you finally step through the door of the house, you notice both doubt and wariness nagging at the back of your mind.

It’s nothing. Just an old house that has been empty for a couple of years.

The demon your customer talked about for endless hours doesn’t really exist and this mansion is clearly abandoned, yet a small part of you questions your previous opinion on ghosts on other entities, though you’re probably just intimidated by the enormity of this building. Yeah, that’s it. There’s no way you’re going to back down now that you’ve gotten so far and not to forget, you’re still earning money with this job. In the end, it’s just going to be an easy income and a fun activity to do now that October ultimately comes to an end and Halloween is just around the corner.

The house welcomes you with a foul stench of musty basement and stale drain water, although it isn’t as bad as you expected it to be. Thankfully, the human body has the wonderful ability to adapt to its surroundings and that includes the subtle change of perception connected to your sensory organs. Eyes adjust to sudden darkness, noses do the same with smell. It doesn’t take longer than five minutes until the gross odor is nearly undetectable as you shut the door behind your back.

“Wow,” you breathe out, once you look around. The foyer of the house is massive, intimidating in its size. The patterned wallpaper adorning the walls appears to be old and peels off in some spots. A lone chair occupies an otherwise empty corner and the opposite wall is hidden behind a shelf full of books. A crystalline chandelier hovers over Gintoki’s silver-haired head and the red rug beneath his black boots spews clouds of dirt with every careful step he takes. No one has lived here in years, that much is clear. If you look closer, you notice a thick layer of dust covering the furniture, and some of the tables and sofas you find in other rooms are covered in white sheets to protect the material from age.

The worst is the floor. While half of it is covered with red carpet, the other half is visible in the dim lighting creeping through the gaps in the front door. The boards appear to break in any second and send you straight to the basement, some nails stick out and deep scratch arks run through the wood, as if some kind of animals tried to dig a hole and get out of this house.

Gintoki flinches at the loud creak ringing through the foyer when you step aside, experimentally flipping the light switch in hopes of having access to electricity.

To no avail.

So, you fumble for the flashlight you brought with you alongside other tool you thought you could need for obvious reasons — what’s ghost hunter without proper investigation equipment? Right, just an idiot talking to the air...which is the most accurate description for Gintoki at this moment. He’s walking through the foyer, randomly opening doors to explore other rooms while calling out to no one in particular, challenging the air around him to fight him. Kagura is hot on his heels, obviously too distracted to sense his discomfort he tries to hide to determinedly.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Shinpachi, the most responsible one out of the group, chose to stay by your side. His thumb presses the button of his own flashlight, quickly irradiating the abandoned house with a blinding beam of white light that doesn’t leave a corner in the dark. Although he doesn’t seem to be a true believer of the supernatural, as far as you can remember, he still cowers behind your back and clutches his flashlight a little tighter.

Kagura and Gintoki have disappeared out of your sight by the time you turn your face away from Shinpachi to study the foyer, but you can clearly hear them in what seems to be the kitchen they have found in their luck and you two share a concerned glance at the sound of their cheering. Drawers are opened and cutlery clatters loudly, then they yell something about having found food, so dramatically that one might think they have been starving for weeks.

“Let’s see what these idiots are doing and then we should start investigating,” you explain before pulling a piece of paper out of your pocket. In more or less intelligible handwriting you have noted terms and concepts you picked up from the book you read about otherworldly entities like holding a séance, bringing holy water and salt for protection, though you aren’t sure whether water guns filled with holy water could really help you out in case you meet a demon. Still, it feels reassuring to hold some kind of weapon, even if it’s made out of plastic and brightly colored, almost glowing in the dark. “We should try to talk to this demon and clear this place with incense. At least that’s what those guys did in that one show I watched.”

“Do you believe that really works?”

“Nope, but I don’t think I believe in the existence of demons and ghosts either, so this place is either abandoned or it’s truly haunted and we’re all going to die,” you laugh and nod your head, urging Shinpachi to follow you to the kitchen. Honestly, you never truly considered the possibility of ghosts and monsters being real. All those movies, those ridiculous tv shows you watched, and the books you read were just fiction, right? Just stories someone made up to scare naive children for fun and for a long time, you were certain you didn’t believe in the existence but now.. now you were starting to doubt that too. “There are worse ways to die.”

“You’re crazy.” He stares at you open-mouthed and disbelievingly shakes his head at the wide grin you give him. The wooden floor groans under your shoes as you take his hand, dragging the poor boy behind you while you stroll through the darkened hallway and direct your flashlight to a few photos decorating the wall. Carefully stepping over glass shards of broken picture frames, you finally reach the kitchen the same moment Kagura decides to open another cabinet.

The door hinges squeak in protest and she screams at the pile of plates and glasses falling out and shattering on the cold tiles. A million splinters fly through the air and the four of you jump back, mouths open and hands shaking, sidestepping sharp pieces of glass and porcelain that come flying at your feet while you slowly back out of the room to safety, hidden behind Gin who has already pulled his sword.

“Great, I sure hope we don’t have to pay for that,” you mutter after a moment of silently staring at the mess you created by accident. The house was damaged before you stepped through the front door anyway, so a few broken dishes shouldn’t be a big deal. The demon could’ve done this too, right? So if the old lady really bothers to ask stupid questions, you’ll just give her that answer. “We should find that demon and leave before-”

You stop mid-sentence.

For a second, you’re convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. But then, Gintoki whips his head around and the kids scramble to hide behind your back just as the door to the bedroom slams open so loudly, the whole mansion seems to shake under the force. Another picture frame falls to the floor and breaks next to the other ones. A chair moves right beside you, slides across the kitchen and scratches over the tiles before it hits the opposite walls and topples over. The stairs creak loudly under the invisible weight of a walking body and the light that hasn’t been working before suddenly flickers above your heads; on, off, on, off as if someone is constantly flipping the switch.

But how...?

“What the hell is going on?” Gintoki blurts next to you. His hand reaches out to find yours, calloused fingers clasping tightly around your wrist to pull you closer, causing your shoulder to bump into his side. He’s protective of you, keeps his hand wrapped around yours while he raises his sword, and straightens up, ensuring that the kids are alright if something would attack you out of nowhere. This is a man who has fought in a war for his country and is ready to put himself between any danger and the ones he loves and if you weren’t so scared at this moment, you would have thrown your arms around his neck and kissed him until your lips bruise and your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen..

Then, just as quick as it all started, the haunted house falls silent again.

“Well, that was fun,” you laugh nervously and slip out of his grasp, running your trembling fingers through your hair in order to collect your thoughts. Your hands are clammy and you run your palms over your shirt to wipe some of the sweat before you continue to talk. “We should hurry, guys. Communication...Communication is important and I want to have a nice little chat with this nonexistent demon for scaring us like that.”

This is a bad idea.

It’s certainly stupid and reckless, but you can’t shake the feeling this might have been some kind of invitation to explore the bedroom and build a connection to this paranormal being there, though a part of you still doubts that were the actions of a horned creature from hell. Old houses are known for doing fun stuff like making random noises and being spooky for no reason at all, and what else are you supposed to do now anyway? You’re already here and the client asked, no, begged you to clean this house with the promise of good payment and the Yorozuya need that money. Rent is long overdue and Otose-san’s patience runs thing. It’s only a matter of time until Gintoki has to pick up every piece of lint in his wallet to give her at least a third of the money he owes her.

“Woah, where are you going?! Are you really that stupid? The demon is probably waiting for you on the other side and once you step through that door he’s going to eat you alive.” Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow and points the blade of his wooden sword in your direction, taking a step back to bring as much distance as possible between him in the dark room. Kagura nods in agreement, one hand buried in Sadaharu’s white fur to keep him by her side while Shinpachi merely rolls his eyes but doesn’t dare to come out of his hiding spot behind Gintoki’s broad back.

“You’re terrible friends... You’re really going to let me do this alone?” You ask playfully and shake your head when they nod their heads in unison. “Stop being so scared of literally nothing. We all know demons and ghosts don’t exist, it was probably just the wind pushing the door open. This house is so old, it would be a miracle if all the windows are still intact.”

“What about the light? There’s no electricity in this house and it still flickered,” Shinpachi quips thoughtfully and quirks his brow in question while he raises one finger raises to push his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. That’s harder to explain, you have to admit that, but there is always a logical explanation, even if it’s about a flickering lightbulb.

There has to be.

“I don’t...I don’t know, that just happens sometimes,” you state weakly and beckon them to follow you before you walk through the door and brighten the room with your flashlight. Nothing spectacular here, only a bed, a big mirror leaning against a wall and a closet that appears to be standing here for decades. The curtains are closed and small dust particles fly through the beam of your light, tickle your nose and make you sneeze a few times in a row when you sit down on the stained blanket on the bed. A strange scent hovers in the stuffy air and your stomach churns - it smells rotten, like something died in this room and no one got rid of it.

“Guys, we just have to light some incense, pretend to talk to this demon or whatever entity this is, and then we can go home. It’s not that hard, so stop being whiny little babies and move your asses over here.”

Finally, the Yorozuya move.

The mattress dips under the weight of Gintoki plopping down beside you. He’s nervous, fiddles with his belt and constantly reaches for his blade that rests closely next to him, ready to be wielded against any monster coming your way. Always so brave, your boyfriend, always looking out to protect you. Once again, you lean forward tp take his hand and press a gentle kiss to his cheek - a reward for his courage, a gift of gratitude for staying by your side, that he’s still here and hasn’t left, even if it’s just for the kid’s sake.

“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbles, though the slight quirk of his lips doesn’t escape you. If you would’ve looked closer, you could have seen the faint blush crossing his cheeks in the dim lighting, the glint of adoration in his gaze when he eyes lingered on your face for a second too long. He places the flashlight he’s been holding on the small nightstand and spins it until the bright beam illuminates your face as the kids crawl into bed as well. Sadaharu stays on the floor, curled up on the dirty carpet. You doubt the bed would be able to carry him.

“Alright, light these,” you instruct and hand Gintoki a bunch of incense sticks you bought in a store nearby, followed by a lighter you stole out of Otose-san’s pocket when she wasn’t looking. “They release a fragrant smoke and that’s supposed to scare off any ghosts and demons. I have no idea if that works, but we should try it out. And here, some salt to make a circle of protection around us.”

Soon, the room is filled with an aromatic scent and a circle of salt surrounds the bed you’re sitting on. Time to talk to the demon.

“Is the demon of this house here? I’m Y/N, this is Gintoki and those three over there are Kagura, Shinpachi and Sadaharu,” you call out to the air around you while pointing to each of your friends who wave at the darkness in a somewhat polite greeting. “We’re here to ask you for a favor, but it would be nice if you talked to us before we start with our questions.”

You wait in silence.

“It’s a nice house you got here,” Gin mutters quietly. Silver hair falls into his face as he glances at the smore rising from the incense between his fingers, delicate curls of fume dissipating in the blackness of the night. “Do you want to tell us why you chose to live in such an ugly house like this when you could have moved into any other home around here?”

His eyes widen as if he’s expecting some kind of answer. Then, after another minute of stillness, he impatiently clicks his tongue in boredom which Kagura takes as a sign to pull silly grimaces, cackling at her own stupid faces to herself. “Come on, demon! Say something to us, because this is getting boring and it’s honestly just a waste of time if you ask me.”

“Gin-san, shut up!” Shinpachi huffs out but doesn’t say anything else. He’s far too scared to scold Gintoki any further, shaky fingers pushing his glass over the bridge of his nose to peek at the crumpled piece of paper in your hand. A gasp leaves his lips when his elbow accidentally hits Sadaharu’s ear that twitches at the contact, though the giant animal seems rather unfazed by the constant agony ruling the room.

“Come on, demon! Say something, you wimp!” Gintoki continues, pointedly ignoring the mildly disproving look on both yours and Shinpachi’s faces. Growing bolder by the second, he leans back against the dusty pillows and crosses his arms behind his head, cockily grinning at the darkness and arching his brow in a challenging manner. “If you’re really as dangerous as I thought you were, you should prove your powers to me because I’m starting to believe you’re not even real.”

“Ignore him,” you interrupt quickly before your boyfriend can say more. He’s an idiot, especially when he gets this arrogant and although you said you don’t believe in demons, you can’t help but fear that he pissed off whatever lives in this house. “He’s an asshole and we actually just wanted to ask if you could give us a sign of some sort to confirm you’re living here before we move on to our favor.”

None of you notices it at first.

The subtle shift in the atmosphere slips your mind, likewise does the steady fall of the temperature until you can see your own breath in the freezing air and Gintoki begins to shiver at a sudden rush of cold. Hugging himself to keep his body warm, he sends you alarmed look. Your shoulders tense and you shudder, opening your mouth to blow your hot breath on your icy fingertips. “Gin, are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a bit chilly in here.”

“Uh, Y/N,” Kagura calls out and catches your attention, blue eyes wide in fear as she lifts her hand to point at the flashlight on the nightstand. Her glance never leaves the object out of sight while she hesitantly forms her next sentence and slides closer to Shinpachi. “The light just flickered.”

She’s right. You turn your face and catch the flashlight in another movement, watch as it rolls on it’s own, back and forth until it ultimately falls over the edge of the furniture and tumbles to the floor where it continues its path and disappears under the bed. Almost immediately, the kids begin to scream at the top of their lungs and Gintoki leaps into your lap, clutching your shirt in tight fists while sputtering all sorts of apologies and pleads to save his miserable life.

“Guys! Relax, that was probably just the wind,” you shout over their hysterical screams, yet your own heart jumps into your throat and your stomach twists in terror. Shivers run down your spine and although you try to sound as confident as possible, you can’t help the feeling that you’re being watched — it’s as if you can sense the demon’s burning gaze on your neck, but when you whip your head around, you only find the big closet behind you, looming over your much smaller figure dressed in sleek mahogany and with beautiful swirling patterns carved into the smooth wood.

Something scratches. The noise is so prominent, so startling that it momentarily silences your friends.

“Why are you staring at that closet?” Gintoki’s voice breaks, grows high-pitched at the end of his question as he moves to sit up and scramble to the other end of the bed. His hand blindly reaches for his sword and you open your mouth to argue, brush it off as mice or rats you heard scratching in there, yet you can’t even utter the first word before you hear it again. This time, it’s far louder, like gigantic claws running over the splintering wood, drawing deep furrows on the inside of the closet.

And then, slowly, the doors open.

The sound of glass shattering can be heard, the mirror now a disaster of shards on the floor. A howl rolls through the room like thunder and panic fills your lungs, robs you of all oxygen as Gintoki takes your hand and pulls you off the bed in a matter of seconds. He lunges to the door handle, throws a quick glance over his shoulder to find the kids perched on Sadaharu’s back, and then you’re already bolting down the hallway. The sound of scratching and sinister growls of temptation follow closely behind you as you pass the stairwell, rounding corners and dashing down the other hallway to dive into the gigantic foyer. The creature enters seconds after you do, opening the doors with such force that the walls crack from the impact and more picture frames tumble to the floor one by one.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It feels like your lungs are about to burst and your chest tightens painfully, every breath you take burns in your throat and your vision grows blurry, but you’re almost there, almost out of this nightmare. Gintoki’s hand slips out of your grasp. Sweat gathers on your temples, soaks your hair, and runs over your cheeks in another surge of awful fear, though your boyfriend quickly catches on and simply slows his steps to hurl you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. That short moment of hesitance gives the monster, the demon, whatever the fuck this creature is, a chance to catch up, and now that you’re thrown over your Gin’s back, you can finally look at the monstrosity that has been hunting you through the mansion.

Furious red eyes meet your gaze. They remind you of the pits in hell, hungry flames engulfing the glowing irises of the demon. Dried blood glistens on the tips of long twirled horns decorating his skull, raven black her frames his face in long knotted strands and a mouth of razor-sharp fangs slowly opens to engulf your head in a deathly bite to decapitate you.

You’re not ready to die, not like this and so, you do the only reasonable things: you reach in the pocket of your pants and pull out the plastic gun filled with holy water, impulsively squirting it right into the demon’s mouth. It hisses and screams loudly, doubles over in pain, but when it lifts its head and continues to follow close behind you, you only know that you’ve pissed it off even more.

“Fuck, run!” You scream and shut your eyes right before Gin bursts through the front door and bright sunlight greets you. The air smells like dried leaves and autumn, so different from the odor that stuck in your nose since you entered the haunted house. You can finally breathe freely again.

A screech can be heard. Through the blur of tears, you watch the beast retreat back into the center of the house, out of the light and back into the darkness where it came from. As soon as Gintoki lets you down from his back, your knees buckle under the weight of your body and you sink into your boyfriend’s arms, drenched in cold sweat and gasping for air.

It takes a moment to gain the energy to speak, to remember how words work. Your brain is fuzzy and your words are slurred from exhaustion as you look up at your friends, a wobbly smile dancing over your chapped lips at the sight of their pale faces — they are alive and unharmed, aside from the shock that still sits deep in your limbs.

“Okay, maybe you were right. It wasn’t the wind,” you joke weakly, earning laughter from the kids. Even Gintoki snorts at your lame joke and only shakes his head, before brushing a strand of hair out of your dirty face and leaning down to kiss your lips. You’re safe and you’re okay, that’s all that matters now.

#sakata gintoki x reader #gintoki x reader #sakata gintoki imagine #sakata gintoki #gintama x reader #gintama #sakata gintoki fic #gintoki smut #shiroyasha #kagura x reader #shimura shinpachi #gintama shinpachi #kagura #gintoki

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mshomestyle · 4 years ago

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Can I request about a short story or head canon for Midoriya, Hawks or Shoto( any of the three will do) about S/O who experience a trauma about her work before due to abusive management, coworkers who bullies her and clients that demands the impossible things/wants them to break the policies for them because they are from influential family. That incident leads her to resign. S/O keeps the incident from Midoriya, hawks or shoto but her past keeps haunting her, how can Midoriya, Hawks or Shoto will help their S/O?

My ask box is crickets rn, so I can do all three! I will do a drabble writing about what happened to the reader and then do HCs for the rest!

Reader who was Abused at her Old Job x MHA Multiple Characters [Drabble and Head Canons]:

(Midoriya, Hawks, & Shoto)

The incident:

Oh, how you hated this place. There was currently not any better options for you out there, so you had no choice but to just take it. Your coworkers were rude and bullied you every chance they got, only to tell you things like ‘It’s just a joke, why are you taking it so seriously?’ when you reacted negatively towards them. You knew they weren’t fully joking, but all you could do was grin and bear it.

The upper management positions were filled to the brim with people who not only abused their positions, but also their employees. You were often stuck doing tasks not in your job description only to get written up and scolded for “neglecting” your actual job. And it usually happened by the same bosses who made you stop doing your work in the first place.

Lastly, and perhaps the worst of all, was the clients. They walked all over you and demanded things that just weren’t possible, and no matter how many times you politely told them that you would lose your job if you were to fulfill particular requests of theirs, you would get told in response ‘Don’t you know who I am? My family practically built this city! I’ll get you fired if you don’t do as I say!’

Day after day you came home wondering when this would all end. You just couldn’t take it anymore, but sadly this was all you had. There was nothing to save you from this.

Until one day, you were discovered so to speak. Your work was recognized by a top hero, who immediately wanted you to work for them, and you had to say that seeing your bosses beg for you to stay and your coworkers’ mouths dropping was satisfying.

It was great to be gone from that nightmare, but as time passed, you learned that you weren’t truly free from it just yet.

Midoriya:

-All Might had actually scouted you out to work for the Pro-Hero Deku at his agency.

-It was easy to tell that Izuku was caught off guard when he first met you, but not in a bad way.

-He was not only interested in your talents, but also you as well.

-So, once he worked up the courage to ask you out on a date, your relationship began. And you had to admit, Izuku was an incredible boyfriend.

-He was always so sweet, though he didn’t make you feel as if you had to date him because you worked for him.

-Everything seemed perfect, until these negative thoughts started to arrive.

-You wondered if you would ever have to deal with rude coworkers, or if they were talking about you behind your back. You wondered if any of the clients asking for Deku’s help would try to get you to manipulate the system for them. And sadly, you wondered if Deku would start to abuse his power.

-These thoughts were small at first, but as they grew, they appeared in your actions. You became more quiet and tried to make yourself seem less noticeable to those around you.

-You just couldn’t help but to feel that way as it seemed as if your old Job still had a hold on you.

-But, you did have an amazing boyfriend, so Deku noticed in no time at all. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting kind of strange at work lately.” The two of you were at his place when he expressed this concern.

-”Y-Yes, I’m fine,” you quickly told him, faking a smile. Izuku didn’t buy it one bit, and you could tell that by the look on his face. You let out a sigh, “Sorry...It’s just...My last job was so horrible. My coworkers, clients, and even my bosses were just so harsh and demanding...I guess it still stuck with me because-Well, I’m afraid that it’s going to happen with you and your agency.”

-Izuku looked taken back by this, and immediately he reached over and grabbed your hand, “Oh, you don’t need to apologize!” he told you, “I’m sorry that you had to go through that, but I promise I’d never let that happen to you again. Everyone at my agency likes you, and I’d always take the side of my employees over a rude client. I know my words can’t undo all that you’ve went through, but I promise that I won’t let that happen to you again.”

-He sounded so genuine and earnest, and you knew that he was. It would take some time, but you knew everything would be alright with him there with you.

Hawks:

-”You have a high profile client in your office, now hurry it up or you are fired!”

-You nodded quickly to your boss before rushing into your office, almost tripping on your way in as you made it to your desk.

-Hawks was a well known hero and deeply loved by people, so needless to say, your coworkers were pissed that you would be the one seeing him.

-“How may I help you?” Your tried to act as professionally as possible, but you were actually a mess on the inside.

-Hawks looked at you with an eyebrow raised, “Does your boss always talk to you that way?” he asked. Your mouth dropped as you were asked that. He heard?! Hawks started to chuckle, “Sorry, my feathers pick up vibrations, allowing me to easily overhear things.” You quickly tried your best to overcome your embarrassment.

-”No, no, it’s fine,” you told him, “I couldn’t keep you waiting. Now, what do you need?” This seemed to earn you an amused look.

-”I actually came here hoping to poach one of the workers for my agency,” Hawks told you, “With the way that asshat of a boss is, I’m sure this will be a good opportunity for you, too.” You were taken back by this, the wind seeming to knock right out of you.

-”E-Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly?” you asked.

-”I can even match your salary,” he smiled, “Now tell me, what’s the funnest and most satisfying way that you can quit?”

-You started to work for Hawks less than a week later, and then a month after that, he asked you out on a date.

-He was such an incredible man, that it was no wonder so many people fawned over him, and the more you got to know him, the more you felt as if he deserved that.

-But then...the doubts started to set in.

-You were starting to remember your old job and the way that you were treated, and despite the fact that the employees that worked for Hawks were so warm and friendly, you still felt a nagging pit in your stomach.

-What you had dealt with before was no joke, and sometimes thoughts from it kept you awake at night.

-It was just a good thing for you that your new boyfriend was so attentive. At the first sign of changes in your behavior, he confronted you about it.

-”Hey, you alright, baby? You’ve been kind of down recently.”

-You felt kind of unsure if you could truly talk to him about this, but he was such a good man that maybe his help was what you needed.

-”Remember my old job? Well, what you saw wasn’t the half of it. My coworkers and even my clients were just horrible pieces of work. They bullied and abused me, and well...I’m haunted by that.” You looked away from him, crossing your arms as you thought about the past.

-Hawks easily walked closer to you, reaching out and lifting your chin. “Sweetheart, you’re so much better than those kinds of people. I saw it, and I’m sure they knew that, which was why they targeted you. Good people don’t hurt others. Besides, I’m here for you, and if you ever have to deal with someone like that again, I’ll save you,” Hawks wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head, “Now, the next time I see your old boss, I’m going to thank him for giving you to me, then call him an asshole.” You couldn’t help but to giggle at that.

-Hawks was just what you needed.

Shoto:

-Moving on and putting the past behind you was all you wanted to do, so when you received a job offer from the pro hero Shoto himself, you took it without delay.

-You were a bit intimidated at first, knowing that this was one of the best hero agencies in the country, but everyone around you just made you feel so at home-Especially your boss.

-And speaking of your boss, when he first laid eyes on you, he became a bit of an awkward mess.

-Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask you out, and several months later you were in a happy relationship together.

-Shoto was sweet, caring, and very loving towards you. You honestly felt as if you didn’t deserve a man this good, but there he was happily dating you.

-Everything seemed fine, until you felt a strong relapse in emotions. You were working in a safe and kind environment, so why was your anxiety about your old job starting to creep up?

-You began to remember the way your coworkers treated you, the way your bosses would demand the impossible, and the way your clients spoke to you as if you were nothing.

-This sort of thing had you tossing and turning at night and becoming very nervous about your current job. What if you messed up? Would your new coworkers start to criticize you? Would Shoto?

-”...Hey...Hey?” Shoto didn’t yell much, and even now he proved that as he gently got your attention. “You okay?”

-”Yeah, I’m fine,” you quickly faked a smile. Shoto had invited you to his office to eat lunch, which was a pretty regular occurrence.

-”I see...,” he spoke softly, indicating that he didn’t believe you. He then remained silent for a while before out of nowhere-”You know...You’ve been like this recently. I even notice that you have such a stressed look on your face when you sleep.” You felt your cheeks warm up at the latter thing that he told you.

-”Seriously, I’m alright,” you insisted. Shoto just looked at you, though; his disbelief in your words more than clear.

-”You also seem a bit distracted at times when you’re doing your work here,” he said. At this point, it became easy to tell that he was going to keep listing off your recent behavior until you told the truth. So, you took a deep breath.

-”Okay, I get it,” you said, “Look...I-...The place that I used to work at was a nightmare. Everything from the bosses to the clients was just brutal to the point where just thinking about it keeps me up at night...I hate that it still has this power over me, but I can’t help it. That time really scarred me.”

-Shoto watched your expression as you spoke, and then let out a sigh. “I’m sure it will take time before you can feel better about that sort of thing and move on, but if you keep it bottled up that won’t happen.” You looked at him curiously, “I’m here for you, alright? Instead of letting these thoughts just stay there, tell me about them. I’m sure once you get it out, and I tell you how awful the people you worked with were and how much better you are than them, you’ll be able to sleep with no problems at all.” You couldn’t help but to smile at his words.

-”You’d really do that for me?” you asked.

-”Of course. You mean the world to me.”

-You were sure that with Shoto’s help, you’d feel a million times better.

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falling-pages · 4 years ago

Text

Coffee Break: Hawks x Reader

Hi lovelies, I’m back with considerably better mental health. I’m still taking writing a bit at a time, slowly, taking my time editing and researching to improve, but I’m finally able to produce content I love again. I’m finally recovering all the joy of writing and now I’m focusing on writing what makes me happy. Thank you for all the sweet messages and support, it means the world to me :)

Quirkless Reader x Hero Hawks

Fluff

Warnings: None

“Americano with almond milk for you, chai latte for me.”

You had been so focused on your report that you didn’t even notice the window opening and your winged boyfriend climbing through until he slid your favorite drink in front of you. The smell was heavenly, steaming through the paper cup bearing your local shop’s logo. Your fingers still against the keyboard as you reach for it, stretching out your cramped digits. After typing for hours, any sort of movement sent discomfort rattling up your hands.

“Thanks, Kei,” you say as he hovers behind you, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

He bent to wrap his arms and wings around you, clutching you close in your chair as you cradled your coffee to your chest. The little cocoon he had suddenly made enveloped you in warmth, cutting off your view of the computer with his beautiful red plumage. All you could see, sense, and smell was him.

He ran his lips up to your temple, the shell of your ear, the spot beneath your earlobe, giving little pecks of affection while he had you under his wings. What good were those wings, anyways, if he couldn’t use them to comfort you?

“Are you nearly done, dove?” he asked, snuggling his face into your hair. “You’ve been at this for hours. Honestly I didn’t know if you were human or one of those robots the captcha quizzes ask about.”

You chuckle, leaning back against his chest. The coffee is still extremely hot, and though your tired brain begs for it, you hold off until it cools down. Keigo gets fussy when you slurp your coffee too quickly and burn yourself. “I still have miles to go before I sleep.”

“Isn’t that some poem?” he asks. “Some American poet?”

“Robert Frost.” You twist your neck to look at him. “You remembered? You’re no poet.”

“But you are. And you quote a lot of them depending on the day.”

“Because they are applicable to my situation.” You turn back and move his feathers away from your computer, making a landing space for your still piping hot drink beside it. The bright white screen welcomes you back harshly, black lines of text still existing. When his red curtain shields you from it, you have a habit of forgetting it exists. Maybe that’s the point--making you forget your worries with kisses and gifts.

You try to lean forward to type again, but his arms hold you back. “Kei, thank you for the coffee, but I have to keep reading this report.”

“You’ve read it three times already tonight!” he whines. “The thing is 50 pages. I don’t know how your eyes haven’t fallen out of your head.”

He sends a feather to lightly touch the coozie around your coffee. Both he and the feather flinch at the contact. “At least wait until your coffee cools down,” he says. “Please? For me?”

Though the man is part bird, he can pull a very convincing puppy face. It’s true, you have gotten to the point where the lines have blurred into one massive pile of digital ink. And his plush wings and warm breath on your neck are oh so inviting.

“How did you know I’ve read it three times?” you ask softly, feeling your eyes begin to close.

“Hawks are very observant creatures,” he says. “They know when their lovebirds are tired.”

You sigh, allowing yourself to give up the ghost and slump against his collarbone. As much as you wanted to keep making revisions to the report, you knew you would force yourself into another all-nighter if you didn’t stop now. You had pulled three already this week, and Keigo had grown frustrated of going to bed alone. If you stayed up again, he would likely take matters into his own hands.

Breaks increase productivity, right?

“Okay,” you relent. “But only until my coffee cools.”

He chirps happily, sending a feather to close your laptop while he scoops you into his arms. The chirps were something you had to get used to, but once he cooed in your ear in his sleep, you couldn’t help but fall in love. He had tried so hard to hide his avain traits in the beginning of your relationship, still wary of all that the Commission had instilled in him, but with you he was free to be the man-bird hybrid his spirit longed to be--chirps, feathers, and nesting included.

You snatch your cup right before he picks you up. He brings you to the couch, where he lies down on his back and settles you against his chest, making you leave your drink on the coffee table. As you lie against him, head against his heart while his lips graze the top of your crown, his wings flutter over you and wrap in to swaddle the two of you together. Abdomen warmed by his body heat, legs tangled up in his, the throaty coos in your ear, his heartbeat slowly lulling you into peace...you knew what he was trying to do.

“I can’t sleep yet, Birdie,” you whisper, drawing a pattern with your finger on his other pec. “As much as I’d like to, this is just a little break. I can come to bed tonight if I get all my reading done.”

“You work so much,” he sighed. His Adam’s apple bobbed against the top of your head. “I think you need to relax a bit.”

“Cuddling you is relaxing,” you say, and though your voice hitched as if to continue, you left the sentence there. He already knew how hard you, being quirkless, had to work to make anything of yourself. It was hard enough to get a minimum wage job without some sort of quirk, much less get into law school, where rich prep kids with genetically-perfect powers took all the top ranks. You might have graduated top of your commoner class, but even your best strategies and most cut-throat arguments couldn’t hold a candle to those born with sharp tongues and persuasive tones. The only thing that kept you going was the fact that you could represent other quirkless clients--and, in that, maybe fight the discrimination you had grown up with.

“Lovebird.”

You turn to him, yanked out of your insecurities when you hear his soft voice utter a pet name only for you. Others might be dominating your class, but none of them were dating a certain winged hero.

“I don’t know how to make you see yourself the way I see you,” he said simply, reaching a hand through your hair. “I wish you could. God, I wish you could see how perfect you are, why I adore you so much. Why it hurts to see you pushing yourself beyond your healthy limit.”

A chord struck you. You knew your hectic lifestyle wasn’t the healthiest, but it never occurred to you that it hurt him. But, looking back, you should have known all the neglected attention and lonely nights, despite being just a room away, would affect him deeply.

He had deep abandonment issues, and he was likely reliving all of that now.

Keigo took a deep breath, running his fingers down your arm. “I don’t want to be a distraction to you. I know I can be clingy, and I’ve been trying to get better, but your schooling comes first. I don’t want to take that away from you just because I’m needy.”

“Kei,” you sigh, shifting under his wings. You turned onto your stomach, forearms on either side of his face, chest pressed against chest. He lazily wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting his wings slightly so you could move. His eyes slowly scanned your face. “You don’t have to apologize. You never bother me.”

He smiled, tucking your closer beneath his wings. “Really?”

Despite his usual sass and arrogant tone in hero work, his voice is sincere, his eyes shining. The predator in him relaxes into a more docile state.

“Really.” You smooth back his hair. “Thank you for taking care of me. Now, I believe my coffee has cooled.”

You push back the curtain of plumage and reach for your drink, rolling off of him to sit by his side. As soon as you raise the cup to your lips and take that blessed first sip, you know something is wrong.

“You got me decaf.”

Your voice is hard, scaling wildly back from the soft words you had uttered against his chest. He giggles, covering his mouth with his hands, but it doesn’t hide the red mirth coloring his skin.

“How could you!” You whine, bouncing up and away from him.

“You need to sleep!” he says. “You have been up all night the last few days, and I need you to sleep.”

You sniffle, blinking quickly to produce fake tears. “You traitor.”

Keigo rises to hug you, nuzzling his nose against your hair. “I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he whispers. As repulsed as you are, his hugs are too nice to refuse. “I’m only trying to take care of you.”

“I know. But next time--”

“Hmm?”

“You’re buying me regular.”

If you enjoy what I write, please consider buying me a coffee :)

#hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo takami #bnha #mha #bnha hawks #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x y/n #bnha x y/n #mha x y/n #hawks fluff #hawks x reader fluff

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fumbling-fanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Nestor Oceteva x Reader - Walk In's Welcome

Paring: Nestor Oceteva and Reader

Warnings: None really, there is a mention of blood. Nestor being cute

*********************************************

I have a part 2 to this sort of in progress...if people even care about part 1.

I don't recall any requests for tags, so I'm copying from an old fic.

Please let me know what you think. Ans yes, there will probably be smut in part 2

******************************************************

"Your man's here" Clara's sing-song tone was accompanied by a nudge that was delivered so hard it nearly sent your phone flying onto the salon floor.

With a quick fumble, you recovered your phone in your hands and looked up. Nestor Oceteva was walking through the salon door, his familiar yellow glasses on. You said nothing to Clara not wanting to give her any more reason to tease you.

As usual the mood in the salon immediately changed, everyone spoke a little quieter. Waiting to hear what he would say. Your cousin, Ava, looked at you in the reflection of the mirror as she stood at a salon chair, braiding a client's hair. You slightly nodded at her as you slid off the stool behind the front counter.

***

When your cousin had asked you to help her out 18 months ago, you said yes without hesitation. You too were close, almost like sisters and itbwas only weekends which you had free.

While Ava did the hair and the hiring of other hairdresser's, you mainly saw to the book keeping, counting the money and keeping the shop tidy.

You'd slightly been promoted to children's hairdresser - after offering to step in and simply braid a young girl's hair at the desperate peel of the mother. From then on the other girls in the shop were more than happy to pass the children client's your way.

And then Nestor walked in one day. Everyone, including you, knew of him and who he worked for. It was no secret.

The atmosphere changed as he stepped into the shop and up the desk in the reception area. When you first looked up at him, he hesitated but didn't remove his yellow glasses.

Your cousin, Ava, stepped up beside you to hear what he had to say. After all it was her business.

"You got anyone who can do these again" he pointed to his hair. You looked to all the stations in the salon, the girls who were working were all suddenly very quiet, heads down, nothing to say or once.

"Probably not for a while, how long you got?" Ava asked, adjusting the synthetic braiding hair on her shoulder a little.

"How long I gotta wait?" Ava looked around her shop herself. "Maybe a few hours at least" she looked apologetically at him. He sighed.

"I can do it, it'll mean no one will be up here, but I can do it" Ava looked at you in surprise.

You smiled at Nestor. "Take a seat over there" you pointed to a chair in the waiting room section. He nodded and did as you asked.

"Y/n, are you sure" Ava stepped in front of you as you slid off the stool. She seemed worried.

"Yeah, it's fine" you smiled and stepped past Ava. Everyone in the shop watched you as you walked towards Nestor.

"Did you want a wash as well?" Nestor paused and then nodded. "Yeah"

You directed Nestor into the wash chair towards the back. You draped a towel around his neck and the salon across his front and got him settled in the wash chair.

"Do you use anything in particular on your hair?" You asked your undid the first braid. Nestor shook his head. "Use whatever" he shrugged. He removed his glasses and tucked them under the salon gown.

And it started from there. Every 2 or 3 weeks Nestor would turn up at the shop. You take him through to the back, undo his braids, wash and condition his hair, and re braid his hair.

Nestor enjoyed the whole process. He'd been to hairdresser's before, but this shop and this experience was different. He especially loved when you washed hair.

He loved how you made the water perfect temperature.

He loved how your fingers felt when you really got stuck in and massaged his scalp. It was sometimes too good.

He loved when you leaned over him, you smelt so nice. He was jealous of whoever got to smell you and be that close.

He loved when you did the parting down the middle of his hair. How you took at least 5 minutes to get it straight - sometimes asking for another opinion from one of the other girls or your cousin. Even though it was perfect.

He loved how you braided his hair damp, taking time to work in moisturiser. How your fingers felt against his scalp and running through his hair.

He loved how you worked in silence, giving him a break. He was free to just lay back and listen to the low sound of whatever music was playing. Or even sleep a little.

He especially loved that time he turned up a week early and when you washed his hair the water ran a dried blood red brown. He watched your face for an expression when you paused. "That's not mine" he mumbled. "Okay, so long as you're good" he nodded and closed his eyes. No one had asked if he was okay. No one but you.

He hated the end, when you'd finished braiding his hair and your hands fell away from his head. Sometimes he wanted to say he didn't like it so he could have you do it again. But he realised that was a silly idea and would get you into trouble no doubt.

***

As you tidied up and Nestor sorted himself out to pay and leave, he took the courage to ask you 1 of 2 questions he'd been dying to ask you for a while now.

"Don't you have a chair up front, like the other girls?" While your cousin's salon had 14 seats out in the main area, and 5 sinks for washing, you never did Nestor's hair out in one of the front seats. It was always done in a back seat, past the washing sinks.

"Technically I'm not a hairdresser" you laughed. Nestor frowned, confused. If you weren't a hairdresser what had you been doing for the last 6 months.

"I'm only meant to be helping my cousin out with the books and when it's busy really. I only kind of got lumped doing kids hair because no one else really has patients for them but I like them" you tossed the used towels into the used basket on the industrial washer.

"Ava employed a barber for a minute, until they started messing around and then his pregnant girlfriend showed up. She almost trashed the shop. Anyway, Ava never replaced him, and it's the only chair free so I use it. Plus the kids can play their games or shows as loud as they want back here and not bother anyone" Nestor had more questions now but was silenced by the arrival of one of your other usual clients.

"I maded you this" Aaron shouted waving a piece of paper in the air and he ran towards you through the shop. Not wanting to hold you up any longer Nestor slipped you the money he owed, winked at you and left.

He'd never winked at you before, and he even wondered why he did it.

***

Without a word Nestor walked through the salon to the back like he's done a million times before. He took his usual seat and waited for you to follow.

Nestor undid his blazer and shrugged it off. He took off his waistcoat too, just leaving his gun holster on. He took a seat in the chair "Could you trim my hair today too?" You paused, hands still on his shoulders over the towel, a little worried at the new request.

"I've never trimmed hair before" you frowned. "I think we'd have to do it dry"

The trim wasn't as terrifying as you expected. You just went with it, cutting to get rid of split ends.

It was a quiet day so when Nestor left, you took a seat up behind the front counter. Just as you were about to ring up the money the door chimed and Nestor walked back in.

"Can I ask you a question, and don't feel like you have to say yes or anything?"

"Yeah, sure…"

"Erm, I was...I was just wondering if you wanted to go for a drink and something to eat? When your finished, later"

You paused, your heart rate increasing. Heat flushing to your cheeks. Nestors, shifted on the spot. You mouth was a little dry.

"Of course. That would be really nice" you smiled.

With a smile himself, he nodded slowly and then left the salon. Again.

Ava appeared behind you at the counter. "What happened, why did he come back in? Did he leave something?"

You pressed 'sale' on the register, entered the amount Nestor had given you and pressed enter. The register chimed and the cash tray shot out. You added the money and closed the cash tray.

"No...he asked me if I wanted to go for a drink"

Ava looked at you and for a split second it was like time stood still. She slowly opened her mouth, but you interrupted her.

"It's fine. I said yes. I want to too" Ava's shock turned into a devious smirk.

"Oh, gurl! You like like him" she whispered the last part, looking over her shoulder.

"Don't tell any of these bitches here, they'll sell you down the river quick" she clicked her fingers.

"Use my place to get ready...and if you want you can take him back there too" Ava poked your ribs with a laugh.

You grabbed her hand "I'm not doing that! I think I like him, so I'm definitely not doing it" you whispered.

*******************************************************

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#nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva imagine #nestor oceteva fanfic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfic #poc oc #woc oc

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anna-pixie · 4 years ago

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Hello !!! Can I have Geralt x reader? Reader has been so caught up in her work that they forget to eat. They get extremely lightheaded and stumble a little. Geralt steadies them and he is worried (and mad) when he finds out they forgot to eat. While he is making food they faint and land (luckily) on something soft. When he's done, he comes back , at first he thinks that they're just laying down but he kinda freaks out when he realizes that reader is unconscious????? THANK YOU

i am SO sorry this took so long, i’ve had the worst writers block recently! 🥺

i really liked writing this request and if you like it i would love to turn this into a little series maybe!

request: reader has been so caught up in work they forget to eat. geralt is worried (and mad) while he is making food they faint and land on something soft, he freaks out when he realises they are unconscious.

pairings: geralt x reader

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive tones

****

To say Geralt was over-protective of you would be a vast understatement. You’d met more or less a year ago, when he pretty much saved your life. You had just been kicked out by your father, for refusing to marry the fat, greasy suitor he had decided was worthy of your hand. A life on the streets doing whatever you please would be better than being married to a disgusting hog, right? Well, kind of. The harsh reality of living on the streets slapped you in the face like a bolt of lightning.

You were growing wearier by the day, coming closer and closer to facing your final option other than starving to death. Prostitution. You knew it would keep you going, but you’d seen the way those horrible men would manhandle and devour the painted ladies.

You met Geralt the night you almost gave in. You sat in the back room, glaring at your painted face with tears pricking your eyes. The lady of the brother called your name, a shriek in her voice as she commanded you to come down. She had a client ready for you.

Long story short, that client was Geralt. He took you up to his room for the night, taken aback when you started crying hysterically when he approached you. You had expected him to hit you, tell you to stop being a bitch or even just force himself on you there. Instead he ran you a bath, left you to calm down and then took you under his wing, whisking you away on Roach for a life on the road.

You like to think that was the Gods smiling down on you, meeting Geralt was the best thing that ever happened to you. Of course, life on the road was no breeze. Your new life was filled with monsters, hunger, travel and death. But you wouldn’t change it for anything.

The past few days had been particularly tough, you had been camped out in the forest while Geralt came and went, going after a particularly nasty wraith. You had been alone for the last day, and you were too afraid to venture out of your tent alone with the exception of relieving yourself, so food had not been at the top of your priority list.

However, now that you’ve started the long walk to the nearest town, you realise how stupid you had been. Your head is spinning and you feel slightly delirious, your stomach screaming at you to feed it. Luckily Geralt is a few paces ahead of you with Roach, and the sound of a nearby stream drowns out any of the rather embarrassing noises your stomach is making.

You stop a while later, and Geralt makes sure you drink a hearty amount of water from the stream. He leans against Roach and watches you, your cheeks flushing as you slurp the water.

“Do I have something on my face?” You’re paranoid now, he won’t stop looking.

“You’re about to.”

“W...what?” You barely have any time to question before he is striding up to you, grasping your face and planting his lips on yours. You relax, smiling into the kiss as he takes his time to savour you.

Geralt is not your boyfriend by any means. Sure, you kiss occasionally. Sometimes he can’t seem to help himself, but you draw that up to just needing a bit of female attention on the road. You never let him go further though, as you know that will bring unwanted feelings. You see the way Geralt is with women, a different one in every town - sometimes even more than one. You don’t want to become that to him, just another body to have his way with. So you stick to kissing. And, oh Gods is he good at it.

You hit his chest lightly, blinking quickly as you stumble to the side slightly. Your vision blurs suddenly and you place your hand on Geralt’s large arm, trying to steady yourself.

“Y/N? Y/N!” He shakes you lightly, looking down at you with furrowed brows as you start to regain your vision.

You shake your head a little, plastering a smile on your face, “Sorry. I don’t know what happened there. I felt a bit faint…”

“You practically passed out, Y/N. Gods, you didn’t have any breakfast today, is that why? What did you eat yesterday?”

“Umm…” You stall, trying to think of a way to tell Geralt that you in fact haven’t eaten, “Nothing…” You regret telling him almost immediately as his face drops, his eyes going dark. You know how angry he gets when you don’t take care of yourself, and you guess that’s why he feels like he has to do it for you.

“Fuck…” He groans, dragging the word out as he walks towards Roach, grumbling quietly to himself. He takes the reins and brings the confused horse over to you, “Normally I wouldn’t let more than one person ride Roach but I can’t risk you passing out and falling off if I’m not on there with you.”

He grabs you quickly underneath the armpits and you shriek in surprise as he lifts you onto the horse with ease. You whisper an apology as your fingernails lightly scratch Roach’s neck. He climbs up after you and you blush at how close his body is. You can feel everything, you’re practically sitting on his lip. You ignore the unladylike thoughts swirling in your brain and focus on staying awake for the rest of the ride to town.

“How long left?”

“Shouldn’t be long. Blaviken is not too far but… obviously… we need to travel a few towns over.”

“Aah. Okay.”

You make idle chat for the rest of the way, though it is mainly you chatting about any old thought that pops into your head, and Geralt grumbling along. At some point he had wrapped his arms around your waist, one resting on your thigh and the other on your waist. Gods, is he trying to make this hard for you?

The rest of the ride isn’t too bad, your vision spots in and out of black a few times but you try not to bother Geralt with this information. You spend your time brushing your fingers lightly through Roache’s main, trying not to distract her too much. You let out a sigh of relief when you finally reach the next town, probably looking like a mage out of her mind as you grin sleepily as you pass people by.

You stumble a bit as Geralt lifts you off of Roach, but deflect his concerned glance with a wry smile, telling him your leg was dead from being idle for so long. Wow, you’ve gotten so good at lying. You leave him to sort Roach out in the nearby stables while you wander inside the warm tavern, scrunching your nose at the inviting scent of sweat wafting around the room. Your transaction with the owner is quick, you’re used to it now after months on the road. You place an order for meat with all the trimmings, knowing you had a bit of coin left over from being camped out for a few days.

“Sorry, love, we ain’t got no meat left. I can rustle you up some potatoes if you’re desperate.”

You sigh, biting your lip as you eye the man near you devouring his piece of meat, your stomach groaning desperately. Alas, you smile kindly at her and assure her that it’s fine, you’ll just take the room for now.

You smile, shaking your head once more as you enter the room, realising that you’ve been given a double bed to share. You will never admit this to Geralt, but you secretly love it when you have to share a bed. You had never been one to enjoy physical touch a lot, but the way Geralt’s large arms would hold you in his sleep, gripping you tightly like he’s scared you’ll leave, well it just makes your heart melt.

Sitting on the bed, you focus on trying to stay awake whilst you wait for Geralt. This is in vain, however, because your head starts spinning almost instantly. You whisper a quick ‘fuck’ before all you can see is darkness, falling down onto the bed with your back facing the door.

Geralt smiles as he spies you on the bed when he enters the room a few minutes later, assuming you’re napping. It had been a long day after all. He starts to run a bath for you, a sort of tradition between the two of you since the night you met. As he listens to the running water, he sits at the small table in the corner of his room, his legs spread as his hulking form takes over the small wooden chair.

“Come on, you.” He nudges you slightly once he has finished preparing your bath. Usually when he wakes you from a nap you groan, mumble and drool before glaring at him angrily. Not this time, though. You don’t move at all, and Geralt starts to panic quickly as he remembers the events of earlier that day. He turns you over, your unconscious body lolling like a ragdoll in his strong arms. He shuts his eyes with a groan, realising he is going to have to shock you awake.

You wake with a squeal, thinking for a second you might be drowning. Your vision is bleary for a few seconds as you try to gather your surroundings, only calming down when you hear Geralt’s low, soothing voice talking you through things.

“You can’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Geralt is holding your face now, brushing a strand of wet hair out of your face. You realise he must have dumped some ice water on you to wake you up.

“I thought tough old Geralt of Rivia wasn’t scared of anything?” You tease weakly, closing your eyes once more as a wave of fatigue slams over you. He slaps your face lightly, ensuring you don’t pass out again. You meet his eyes once more, slightly shocked at the sheer seriousness of his expression.

“Not when it comes to you. You’re the only thing that keeps me going in this world, Y/N. You have to understand that I might not always be here. I need to know that you can take care of yourself, okay? For me.”

You tilt your head so that you’re leaning further into Geralt’s hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. He leans forward, kissing your forehead quickly as he gets up.

“Where are you going?”

“I bumped into Jaskier earlier, he’s passing through this town with his newest whore. I sent him to get us some meat. We’re not sleeping until you’ve eaten. Got it?” Sometimes you like to tease Geralt, just to get a reaction from him. This was not one of those times. You look at him through your lashes.

“Got it.”

Jaskier is as happy as ever, humming a tune whilst the three of you dig into your food. You try to remain ladylike as you eat but can’t help scoffing down the hearty chunk of meat you were served.

“You should’ve seen Geralt before, Y/N.” Jaskier cackles, shrieking suddenly when Geralt serves a swift kick to his shin.

“What do you mean?” You eye Geralt suspiciously, placing your hand on his thigh so that Jaskier can explain without the fear of being kicked again.

“I was enjoying my… company… downstairs, shall we say. Then all of a sudden this buffoon comes running down the stairs, shouting about a jug of cold water. So of course I followed him, and all I could see before he kicked me out of the room was him pacing around - I kid you not, Y/N, he was praying to the Gods - and then he chucked the jug of water on you.” You can’t help but giggle at Jaskier’s dramatic retelling of the events, awwing slightly when you see Geralt’s bashful face.

Turns out even emotionless Witcher’s can freak out when something they care about is in danger.

#geralt x reader #geralt x oc #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt of rivia x oc #the witcher #witcher imagine #the witcher imagine

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