#this time im gonna build up my back and shoulders hopefully | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rax-writes · 4 years ago

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Fandom: MCU Pairing: Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings: Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the end Notes: Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. // Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers

When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.

It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an “enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.

The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.

That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.

You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.

“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.

"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.

"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."

Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."

The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.

"So all this time you've been rich?"

"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."

"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"

"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.

As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”

Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."

"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"

After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.

“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.

“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.

You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.

Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.

“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”

Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.

“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.

“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.

“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.

If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.

“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.

In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.

Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.

“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.

As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.

You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”

“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”

You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”

Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.

Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.

When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.

“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.

The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.

A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.

“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”

“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.

“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.

As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”

The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.

Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.

The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.

Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.

As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.

An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’

It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.

Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.

The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.

"Your thoughts are filthy."

He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"

"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.

"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."

You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.

"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."

In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.

"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."

The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.

"Such as?"

"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.

You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."

"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"

"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."

"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.

"Then I'm yours."

Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.

"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."

You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.

Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and décolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.

"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."

Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.

"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.

He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.

No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.

He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.

You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.

"You are certain that you want this?"

"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.

"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."

"Yes, please, Baron."

"Good girl."

Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.

"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.

"Yes, Baron."

He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.

A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.

"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"

"As you wish, Schätzchen."

Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.

"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.

"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"

"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."

That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.

Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.

In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."

"You adore it."

"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."

"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."

Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."

You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.

The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.

But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.

“We'll see.”

—————

Part Two

1K notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

ALL IS FAIR

a/n: woohoo!! finally a harry fic! lol sorry i got very into marvel these past weeks but im finally bringing you some harry content! this one was originally requested by an anon sometime and then we kept talking about it until i actually got around to write it! hopefully you’ll like it and if you do, please like and reblog!

pairing: ceo!Harry x ceo!plussize!reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 16.7k

masterlist

“Stop being such a stuck up dick, it’s your birthday, bro!”

Harry rolls his eyes at his friend who walks into his penthouse as if he owned. Niall Horan was so well-known in Harry’s building that he could have easily walked into any homes in the tower and people would still welcome him warmly. It might have a few things to do with the fact that half of the residents in the Compass Tower are women who are hopelessly in love with either Niall or Harry, hoping for a chance to drag either of them into their bed one day. They have a lot more chance to do that with the Irish bloke than with Mr. Styles. Not that Harry doesn’t find them attractive, but he is not the type to have one night stands, something his friend gives him quite a lot of shit for.

“Would you fuck off for twenty more minutes?” Harry sighs, shooting him a look as he covers the speaker of his phone, in the middle of a call.

“You have ten minutes and we are leaving. I’m not letting you work on the night of your thirtieth birthday!” Niall warns him before walking into the kitchen to roam the always full, neatly stocked fridge.

As much as Niall Horan comes off as an irresponsible cocky child, he is quite the businessman himself as well. As the Lawyer of one third of New York’s most influential people, he surely doesn’t have to worry about making a living, enjoying his luxurious apartment a few streets away from Harry’s place on the Upper East Side. It’s not as expensive and impressive as Harry’s penthouse on the top of the tower his father built in the heart of the posh neighborhood most people only know from TV shows, but he couldn’t complain.

“Another designer refused to sign with us, H. We are running out of options,” Lambert’s voice rings through the phone as Harry turns to the floor to ceiling window, staring out to the city skyline in front of him.

“We have quite a few left, right?” Harry asks clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, but I heard that Cometa is planning on announcing something big next week so I think a lot of them are waiting for that to happen.”

“Do you think it’s another collab? But they just had fucking Chanel have a line sold through them!” Harry growls, his blood boiling at even just the thought.

When it comes to fashion in the virtual world, there are two businesses that totally dominate the industry. In the men’s wear, Twisted is definitely the number one selling place. The idea started off as just a freshman school project that originally wanted to sell tech stuff, but a few years into the project Harry met Lambert who was already a rising star in the fashion industry and they joined forces, creating the most classic yet affordable and user friendly online empire: Twisted. Though Twisted mostly features men’s clothing, they’ve been trying to venture to the field of women’s fashion, but it hasn’t been as easy as they thought it to be. And the reason for that is Cometa.

Cometa was originally a website where anyone could sell their own clothes, make their online wardrobe sale. But eventually the business grew itself out and stepped up a few levels, collaborating with various designers and brands, selling exclusive lines and a highly praised seasonal variety four times a year, earning a well-deserved top spot in the online fashion industry. It’s hard to compete with what Julia Bianchi built up through sweat and blood and Harry Styles has been working on stepping up to be a major competition for Cometa in women’s fashion, with not much luck so far.

To top the cake with a delicious looking cherry, Cometa has been trying to set feet into men’s fashion as well in the recent years, bringing out several lines with some mentionable designers, but they never made it be as big as Twisted. The two businesses have been trying to outdo each other for about a decade now, with not much luck so far and Harry’s patience is running low by now.

“I don’t know what it is, but keep an eye out. I’ll call you on Monday, alright?” Lambert sighs through the line.

“Okay, thank you,” Harry nods, feeling a little defeated.

“And happy birthday, man. Go and celebrate!” he chuckles, making Harry’s lips curl up as well.

“Thanks, have a good weekend,” Harry bids his goodbye before the call ends.

Wandering into the kitchen Harry finds Niall with the thickest ham and cheese sandwich between his hands, sitting at the kitchen island.

“So where exactly are we going tonight?” he asks, grabbing himself a granola bar as he joins the Irish lad on the stool next to him.

“Oh, that’s a surprise,” he grins, mouth full as he chews mercilessly. Harry grimaces, not sure how this is the same man who can convince a judge about basically anything, wearing his designer suits, putting on an intimidating and serious act for his cases.

“I have a switch,” Niall once told him when he asked how he does it. “I just turn it off when I’m off the clock.”

“You know I hate surprises,” Harry informs him matter-of-factly, but Niall doesn’t seem to be bothered by his comment.

“You’re thirty now, no one cares what you hate.”

“Says who?” Harry huffs.

“Me,” he grins, making Harry roll his eyes.

The bass is throbbing, red tinted lights illuminating the exclusive bar in the heart of Manhattan where Niall chose to gather some of Harry’s close friends to celebrate his thirtieth birthday. Sitting in the leather couches at a restricted area at the back of the place, they are hidden enough not to draw too much attention to themselves but still feel like they are part of the party.

“Cheers to three decades of this cocky motherfucker!” Niall beams as their glasses meet in the middle, everyone laughing and wishing Harry a happy birthday before they all chug their drinks.

Harry is not necessarily the type of person to enjoy going out too often, but he admits it’s been a while since the last time he let loose. It feels nice to have the evening to himself, leaving the business behind for just a couple of hours before he returns to his busy everydays.

Though the occasion is Harry’s birthday, Niall is surely enjoying the evening a tad bit more than his friend. After Harry sees him send down three tequilas in a row he realizes it’s not gonna end well if he doesn’t get some water into his system as well. Excusing himself from the group he heads to the bar, pushing his way through the dancing bodies until he finally reaches his destination.

Given how it’s a Friday evening, the place is packed and he waits in the line patiently while the bartender is fixing up the order of a group of girls a few stools down from Harry. Leaning onto the counter Harry runs his gaze over the dancing crowd, tapping his fingers against the surface to the beat, even bopping his head a little when he feels a push from behind him.

“Oh, sorry!” A female voice calls out and as he turns around he spots the owner of it, a young woman, her curvy body wrapped in a tight mini dress that leaves very little to Harry’s imagination as his eyes run up and down her figure. He has never seen a curvy girl as confident as her, she is radiating, drawing every male’s attention to herself like she is feeding off the hungry stares and dirty thoughts birthed by her.

Her eyes meet Harry’s gaze and the sly smirk that tugs on her perfectly shaped lips gives it away that she is not that sorry to be bumping into him.

“No worries,” is all he manages to say, the urge to drop to his knees right then and there stronger than anything he has ever had to fight.

“He won’t notice you,” she tells him and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The bartender. If you just stand there like that… he will never come here,” she explains.

“I’m not sure I have what catches his eyes,” he jokes, making her laugh and he swears his stomach drops at the heavenly sound.

“May I?” she arches an eyebrow and Harry nods, letting her step in front of him. He stands tall above her, eyes fixed on her figure as she leans onto the counter, the marble pushing her breasts up just enough to spark the bartender’s fantasies when he glances in her way. She waves at him with a charming smile and a moment later the guy is standing in front of her, ready to please her in any way she desires.

“Three vodka sodas and…” she turns in Harry’s way, her lips slightly parted and his breath hitches in his throat. “What did you want, handsome?”

“Just, uhh—Just two water, please.”

Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t comment on it, just adds the two water to her order. The bartender nods and disappears to fix up her drinks. Harry takes a deep breath and sticking his hand out to her he introduces himself.

“I’m Harry, by the way.” She takes his hand, shaking it firmly.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Harry. Are you here alone?”

“Um, no. I’m here with a few friends,” he replies nodding towards the back of the place. “Are you here with someone?”

Please don’t say your boyfriend, please!

“A few of my girlfriends,” she smiles, brushing her hair over her shoulder, flaunting a better look at her naked neck and just one glimpse is sending a whirl of dirty thoughts into Harry’s mind. He wonders how soft her skin would feel under his lips, what her moans would sound as he sucks on it, leaving a mark on her, letting every man in the house know that he made her feel good.

“Are you guys celebrating something?” Y/N asks, a knowing smile on her lips as she most definitely saw Harry staring at her.

“Actually, yeah,” he chuckles a little nervously. “It’s my birthday.” Y/N’s eyes brighten up as she beams at him.

“Really? Happy birthday then!”

“Thank you,” he smiles shyly. “Are you guys celebrating something too?”

“Well, I…” she starts, her thoughts wandering off for a second before she continues. “I kind of got promoted,” she explains and Harry smiles down at her warmly.

“Congrats then!”

The bartender returns with the drinks and she is already about to get her card from her little clutch when Harry pulls his card out, handing it over to the guy behind the bar.

“Birthday boys shouldn’t pay for others,” she smirks, but doesn’t try to fight him that hard.

“You can pay me back later,” Harry shrugs with a suggestive smirk on his lips. He doesn’t want to part ways with her, but she is obviously expected to be back with her friends and he needs to get back to Niall as well before he absolutely loses control. Stepping closer to him, Y/N slides a hand up his chest, her palm resting at the base of his neck as she leans to his ear.

“Save me a dance, birthday boy?” she murmurs into his ear, her lips brushing against him for a split second before she steps back, grabs her drinks and winking at him one last time she disappears from the bar. Harry stands there for a few more seconds before the bartender hands him back his card and snatching the waters from the bar he heads back to his friends.

Luckily, Niall is slowing down a little, The water does him well and Harry finally doesn’t feel like he’ll have to take care of him, dragging him home once the night is over. Sitting by the table Harry is trying to focus on the conversation, but his gaze keeps wandering over to the dance floor, looking for one particular curvy figure in the sea of dancing bodies.

It takes him some time to spot her, but when he does, he is not able to tear his eyes away from her.

She is almost perfectly in the middle with her friends surrounding her, lips and shoulders swaying to the rhythm perfectly. He catches her chug down the last sips of her drink before she disregards the glass and gets back to dancing. Watching her every move intently, Harry feels his lips slightly part at the sight of this angel who is for sure a devil in the sheets. He can’t stop himself fantasizing about what it would feel like to dig his fingers into her thighs, kiss her neck, her cleavage that’s on show now, how her curves would fit into his hands perfectly. He wants to praise this woman, make her feel good and not just because he wants to be selfless and please her, but also because seeing this woman reach her high because of him would be the biggest ego boost for him and he just needs that.

“Go dance with her!” Niall wiggles his eyebrows at him when he catches Harry staring at her.

“What? No, I’m not a dancer,” he shakes his head, shifting his eyes away from the dancing goddess on the dance floor.

“Oh come on, don’t be a pussy!”

“I’m not a pussy, I just—“

“You’re a pussy. I saw her looking in your way as well, she wants your dick!”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry whines rolling his eyes. He doesn’t like it when he gets so vulgar, but luckily no one heard their conversation. Glancing back in Y/N’s way Harry sees how men are eyeing him, probably building up the courage to go up to her and that has his blood boiling. He needs to be the one to touch her.

Chugging down the rest of his drink he snaps the glass on the table before standing from his seat, ignoring Niall’s cheering as he makes his way into the crowd.

Harry didn’t lie when he said he is not a dancer, he feels uncomfortable, awkward and uncoordinated most of the times he tries to dance, but he is pushing all of those to the back of his mind for now as his eyes are set on one person in the crowd.

When Y/N spots the man approaching her, she can’t push a pleased smile off her lips, slowing her movements down as Harry finally reaches her, leaning closer to her ear so she can hear his voice over the music.

“Here to collect that dance,” he smugly tells her, making her laugh, though the music is too loud to let him hear her. She just nods and turning around she presses herself up against him, her backside fitting his front perfectly. Harry’s hand snake around her waist, his large palm smoothly moving through the silky fabric of her dress as they start moving together.

She is intoxicating, makes Harry feel like he is some kind of horny teenager, like he hasn’t dealt with women before, but in a way, she makes all of his past flings appear to be only girls. Her confidence in her own body is easily one of her best traits, the way she handles herself, moves her body, the look in her eyes, Harry is getting drunk on just watching her and now he is able to touch her as well.

When he feels himself getting hard in his pants, he knows he should be at least a slightly bit embarrassed by himself, but as Y/N turns around in his arms and he sees the pleased smirk on her lips, the feeling vanishes in a heartbeat. She wraps her arms around his neck as she pulls him close, her lips brushing against his lips.

“Enjoying yourself, birthday boy?” she prompts before pressing a kiss to the soft skin under his ear and he can’t hold a growl back. The friction is almost unbearable, as his hands slide lower on her back, stopping on her ass, he knows he won’t be able to control himself any longer. Luckily, he is not the only one having this inner fight.

Snapping around Y/N grabs his hand and starts pulling him through the crowd towards the hallway of the bathrooms. He follows her eagerly, lucky for them, the club doesn’t have restrooms with several stalls, but single bathrooms with a lot more comfort and privacy. Just what they need right now.

They find the third bathroom empty, pushing their way inside and locking the door before Harry pushes her up against it the moment it’s just the two of them, their mouths hungrily meeting in the middle. He almost grunts against her lips, she tastes even better than he imagined and the way her tongue is the first one to come into action has got his mind blown. His hands roam up her body, running up all her curves until they reach her face and he cups it in his palms, pressing his hips against her. She moans against his mouth when his hard cock pokes against her, both of them desperate to take it further.

Tumbling further into the small bathroom, he helps her up to the counter next to the sing, her legs instantly opening for him, her tiny dress rolling up her thighs, revealing her clothed sex. Harry eagerly kisses his way down her neck and chest, her skin feeling so smooth under his lips. His fingers hook under the thin straps of her dress, tugging them down so he can push the dress past her full breasts and thank God she is not wearing a bra underneath!

“Fuck me, you are so hot!” he breathes out, making her chuckle at his reaction.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she cockily answers before Harry’s mouth attaches to her nipple, his hand working on her other breasts before he switches.

He quickly gets down on his knees, pushing her underwear to the side before his lips and tongue meet her sensitive clit.

“Oh shit!” she moans, a hand coming to tangle in his hair while she tries to hold herself steady with leaning on the other one behind her. There’s no time for teasing now and they both know that.

She is so lost in the experience, Harry is licking and sucking just the right spots and she tries to close her legs, locking his head between her thighs. His arms come to curl around them, ring clad fingers digging into her flesh and the situation might be a little suffocating for him, but he doesn’t mind it a bit. In fact, if he died this way, he would die a happy man.

She doesn’t let him finish what he started, pulling him up, his lips still glistening from her own juices as she kisses him messily, wiggling herself out of her underwear while he undoes his pants as well.

“Shit, do you have a condom?” he breathes out when his palm wraps around his throbbing cock. She nods, reaching for her clutch she dropped to the counter and digging into it she grabs the package, smacking it against his chest playfully. “Were you planning to do this tonight?” he grins cockily as he rips the package open and starts rolling it down his hard length.

“No, I’m just smart, unlike you,” she retorts, her sass dripping from her tone and it just riles him up even more.

Grabbing her thighs he yanks her to the edge of the counter, a gasp leaving her plump lips as she tries to find her balance quickly.

“Don’t be a brat,” he growl against her lips before kissing her, while he lines himself up with her, the head already pushing in.

“Then fuck me, birthday boy,” she challenges him again and it’s the last straw.

Harry slams into her, both of them moaning at the sensation before he starts thrusting in a fast pace, needing all the friction he can make to get them to finish as soon as possible. Y/N’s head falls back as she holds onto the back of his neck, her other hand on the counter behind her again and Harry glances down, watching her breasts bounce every time he rails into her, slamming his whole length into her every time their hips meet.

She reaches for one of his hands that’s holding her thigh and she boldly brings it to her core, tapping his fingers to her clit, letting him know that she wants some extra effort. Harry doesn’t say it, but he is blown how she didn’t just do it herself, she made him do it. It’s got to be one of the hottest things he has ever seen.

“Fuck, go harder!” she gasps, wrapping her legs around his waist as he picks the pace up, feeling his orgasm building rapidly with each thrust.

They both are a whimpering, moaning mess, the bass of the music is thumping outside and for a moment, Harry feels like he is finally living his life to the fullest.

“I’m gonna cum!” she breathes out, his name falling from her lips moaning after that and when she pulls him down to kiss him, biting into his bottom lip and tugging it, he loses himself.

He feels himself jerking inside her, still sliding in and out of her as he grunts, releasing himself into the condom. He flicks his fingers on her clit at the same time, creating just enough friction to push her over the edge as well. He is coming off his own high when her walls tighten around his cock, dragging his orgasm out even longer as she basically screams, gasping for air, riding her orgasm out to the last bit.

Leaning down he kisses her again though they are still panting, this time making it a lot less rushed than the time their lips met for the first time. Her legs fall from around his waist and he pulls out, both of them cleaning themselves up in the aftermath of their little session.

“I know this was quite rushed and all that, but can I have your number?” he asks, even feeling a little nervous. She puts her underwear back on, smoothing her dress down as she smiles up at him, cupping his face in her palm.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to skip on that,” she tells him simply, shocking him for sure.

“D-Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“No,” she shakes her head and now Harry is confused.

“You didn’t enjoy it?” he then asks, trying his best to figure out the reason behind the rejection.

“I did. But it was a one time thing. If it’s supposed to turn into more…” she sighs, grabbing her clutch from the counter. “Then I’ll leave it to fate if we ever meet again,” she shrugs before turning around she just unlocks the door and walks out, leaving Harry stand there in complete and utter shock.

This is definitely a first for him, a woman who doesn’t want to see him again. He is not that egoistic to think that everyone is in love with him, but he never had an encounter similar to this. Not after the most amazing sex ever.

Harry fixes himself up, still not believing she walked out that easily, but there’s not much he can do now. Walking back to his table, he acts like nothing happened and when his eyes scan over the crowd again, he can’t see her anymore.

Harry lets out a tired sigh when Zayn, head of the graphic design department walks into his office with a familiar brown paper bag with the logo of Harry’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Has it started already?” Zayn asks, though glancing at the big screen on the wall he can see the stream is still waiting to be started.

“No, I’ve been staring at it for like twenty minutes,” Harry grumbles, pushing himself away from his desk to join Zayn on the couch in front of the screen as he unpacks the food. “What do you think it’s going to be?”

Today is the day of Cometa’s big press conference and no one knows what they are about to announce. It’s been keeping Harry on the edge for the past few days, because whatever it is, it has got to be major. Julia Bianchi is not the type of person to hold press conferences, she is a private person who has managed to keep most of her life behind closed doors. That’s something Harry admires in the woman even though they are competitors in the business. He can relate to wanting to keep her life just for herself, he has been doing the same thing. No public appearances, no lengthy interviews, no photoshoots. He likes to let his work talk for himself and it’s proved to be a successful move so far.

“I don’t know, but I hope they don’t suddenly announce a full graphic makeover right before our update,” Zayn chuckles. He has been working on an entirely new appearance for the website these past weeks and it’s supposed to go live sometime later in the month. A change for Cometa would totally throw their attempt off, making them look like they are just copying Julia’s move.

They eat and wait for the stream to start when the screen finally comes alive. There’s an empty stage shown with just two mic stands in the middle and nothing really happens for a few minutes before clapping is heard from behind the camera and Julia finally walks on the stage.

The woman is a real diva. Wearing a matching pant suit with bold floral print all over it, her short hair is neatly straightened into a bob cut, her red lips smiling lightly as she waves around in the room. Julia has been in the fashion industry for almost three decades now and she surely made a name for herself, sitting front row in every fashion show she attends, her words on any new trend being basically the standard.

Stepping to one of the mics, she clears her throat as the clapping dies down and her calm, gentle voice rings through the speakers.

“Welcome, everyone, thank you for coming, as you might already know I’m Julia Bianchi, head of Cometa, the world’s best online women’s fashion house.”

Harry leans back in his seat, eyes fixed on the woman on the screen as he is patiently waiting to hear what she’s got for the people this time.

��I’ve spent twenty-seven wonderful years in the business, building my own one for the past two decades. I fell in love with fashion as a child and moved to Milan to study designing from the bests. Though designing has always and will always hold a special place in my heart, I saw an opportunity in the early years for a brand that would hold together every other brand in the industry, bringing it to everyone’s home thanks to the rapidly developing technology. Cometa has always been my little baby and I’m proud of everything I achieved as head of such a great company.”

Harry realizes what it’s about before Julia could even say the words herself. The phrasing, the nostalgic tone, it’s all adding up to the obvious: Julia is about to announce her retirement.

“I gave the best years of my life for this company and I regret nothing, but recently I’ve realized that it is time for me to slow down for a little bit and enjoy a life that’s not filled with work anymore, and spend more time with my beloved husband, Fabio and my family who supported me on my long way here. Therefore, I am now announcing it with an aching heart and a lot of excitement as well that I am stepping down from my role as CEO of Cometa. I might be leaving now, but my business will not. So it is a pleasure to introduce you the person who will carry my legacy on, my amazing niece, the absolutely most perfect woman to carry on the work I started, Y/N Y/L/N.”

The moment another woman comes into the picture Harry almost chokes on his own saliva, seeing the same curves he had his fingers dug into last Friday. Y/N smiles and waves around as she steps to the other mic next to her aunt, exchanging a short look with her before turning towards the people in the room and the camera that’s streaming the event.

“Dude, you alright?” Zayn asks, patting Harry’s back a few times as he is still struggling to breathe normally.

He refuses to accept that the woman he fucked in a bathroom on his birthday, the one that made him moan like never before, is the same woman who is going to take over his biggest competitor.

“This has got to be a joke,” he breathes out with teary eyes from all the coughing.

“It is an honor to be here,” Y/N starts speaking as the clapping dies down once again and the two men are staring at the screen. “Just like to be the one to step into the perfectly stylish shoes of my aunt. I hope to live up to not just her and everyone else’s expectations, but also to mine as well. I grew up watching my aunt build up this empire with basically dust so to be the person to take her place is a dream come true. I promise to keep the quality the same and work on improving Cometa to its possible best while being in charge.”

As she finishes talking, questions are thrown in her way, but Harry doesn’t pay attention any longer. Standing up he walks to the window, staring out to the city as he chews on his bottom lip anxiously.

“What the fuck is your problem, H? It wasn’t as bad as we expected, right?” Zayn questions.

“It’s fucking worse!” he snaps turning around. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Would you just tell me what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that… I told you about what… happened on my birthday.”

“The bathroom fuck, oh yeah,” Zayn chuckles with a playful shine in his eyes.

“Well, that woman… the woman I fucked was her.” Zayn stays silent for a moment before he turns towards the screen, eyeing the woman on the stage as she is still answering questions, standing confidently in her tight, black dress and red heels.

“You fucked Julia Bianchi’s niece? And she is now taking over Cometa?” he raises his eyebrows at Harry who just nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “And she is also the one who didn’t give you her number?”

“Don’t… bring that up. But yes, it’s her.”

Zayn starts laughing, clearly finding Harry’s misery entertaining, but Harry doesn’t feel like taking it that easy. He wonders if she knew who he was, if she did it on purpose or it was fate’s horrible joke on both of them.

“Ah man, that charity event on Saturday will be one hell of a show then!” Zayn points it out and Harry’s face falls. He totally forgot about the charity event he was invited to, one that would have the biggest names in the fashion industry together in a ball room to raise money for a chosen good cause. It happens every year and it’s a major event, the perfect place to network and also to see your biggest enemies. That means that Harry will see Y/N again in a few short days and if he is being honest… he is not ready to face her, not after the information he learned today. Sighing he steps to the minibar he insisted on having in his office and though he never drinks during the day, he now thinks that now might be an exception. He pours himself some whiskey and before he chugs it down at one go, he lets out a long, tired sigh.

“That’s just my luck…”

Leslie helps you with the zipper of your dress, the silky, red fabric hugging your body like a second skin. She smoothes the wrinkles out while you fix the straps, staring back at yourself in the mirror with judgment. You need to look perfect, this is going to be your first time appearing at an event as CEO of Cometa, your big entrance into the industry, you can’t let anything go wrong.

“You look gorgeous, babe,” Leslie smiles at you, bringing your hair behind your shoulders as her eyes meet yours in the mirror. Leslie might be your assistant, but she is a lot more than that. You’ve been friends for almost a decade and when she lost her job a few years ago you didn’t hesitate to offer her a spot next to you. You wouldn’t be here without her, she doesn’t try to use her privilege of being your friend to not do the work, she is always on top of her game and you’ll always be grateful for her to not make it awkward at all.

“I think you need some diamonds though,” she winks at you, stepping to the table where all kinds of jewelry is sprawled out. She reaches for a simple one, not too much, quite elegant and you nod as she holds it up for you. Walking behind you she brings it around your neck, the diamond brilliantly sitting on your chest now, giving that little extra shine to your outfit.

“You’ll make every man fall in love with you,” she smiles at you and breathing out you nod, hoping to believe that everything will go perfectly.

While you make a few last minute calls she gets dressed as well before the car arrives for the two of you. She is wearing a less daring but still beautiful black dress, her curly hair pinned up into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her heavily freckled face bright from her happy smile as the two of you make your way to the event.

“I know it’s ridiculous, but I tried to memorize the faces and names from the guest list,” she grins at you, earning an eyeroll.

“Les, I told you, this is not The Devil Wears Prada,” you chuckle softly. She is obsessed with that movie and hasn’t shut up about feeling like she is literally living in it since your aunt has shared her plans with you about your future position last year.

“I know, but it might be impressive if you already knew everyone!”

You have to give that to her, it would earn you a few good points if you knew the names already, you’re just still nervous about the whole thing. So many things could go wrong and you want it to be perfect.

At first you feel intimidated by all the influential people around you. Everyone here is one of the bests in their own field and you feel like an impostor, but then you remind yourself that you earned your spot. Your aunt wouldn’t have given you the company if she didn’t trust you entirely with it. You worth no less than anyone else in this ball room and that reminds you that… you’re that bitch.

Leslie’s knowledge of names actually comes handy. You love seeing people get shocked when they try to introduce themselves to you, but you already greet them saying their names. It earns you some appreciative looks as you make your way around the room. Everything is going smooth, right until you spot one particular man in the crowd.

You’re in a little circle with a few designers when your gaze falls on Harry who is standing across the room, talking to two men. The champagne almost slips from your hand when you realize it’s him.

“Leslie,” you grab her wrist catching her attention. “Les, who’s the man in the blue Gucci suit?” you ask in a whisper and she follows your gaze, finding the man in talk.

“Oh, that’s Harry Styles, head of Twisted.”

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you quickly excuse yourself from the conversation and head out to the balcony to get some fresh air before you faint right on the spot.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Leslie follows you.

“I messed up,” you squeak as you step outside, the chilly evening air hitting your uncovered skin immediately. “I messed up big time!”

“What? Why? What happened?”

Stepping to the edge, you wrap your hands around the railing, staring out into the void for a moment. Leslie Stands beside you, quite puzzled about your sudden panic.

“Remember the guy I told you about from Friday night?” you ask, keeping your voice down even though there’s no one really around. Leslie nods. “Well… he was the guy.”

Leslie glances back inside and then at you before her eyes widen and lips part in shock.

“You fucked Harry Styles at a club’s bathroom?!” she whisper-yells at you and you feel like a teenager who is getting scolded.

“I didn’t know who he was! And I genuinely think he didn’t know me either, how could he?! But now he is here and… Oh God, this is so bad,” you whine, your head dropping backwards as you let out a frustrated growl.

“Okay, don’t panic. Maybe… maybe he doesn’t remember you.”

“You can’t make me believe he doesn’t remember me after fucking me on a counter,” you tell her giving her a look.

“Alright, alright. Then… you just have to suck it up. It’s not like you can unfuck him,” she shrugs and though you know she is right, you just wish you could leave right now.

You never planned on seeing him again. Your bullshit speech about letting fate decide it was just an excuse to not give him your number. You didn’t want to because you thought he is not the kind of man that would be good for you. From his look you thought that he was either a fuckboy, not willing to commit to anything serious, or the kind of man that seems all nice and respectful at first but then turns out to be a total asshole and you’ve had enough of those in your twenty-eight years.

Soon enough you head back as the auction is about to start. Luckily, your seat is far away from Harry and it seems like he hasn’t noticed you yet. Though you wish to keep it that way, you can feel it coming already.

The auction goes by fast, you buy a new painting that will look amazing in your living room and almost twice as much money is raised through the evening that was the goal. You leave Leslie behind at the table as you go to the bar to get yourself another drink, probably your last one of the evening if you don’t want to end up making a fool out of yourself.

Patiently waiting at the bar you’re already thinking about watching Grey’s Anatomy when you get back and out of this tight dress. You look hot, but it’s not the comfiest look, if you’re being honest. There’s only one more person in front of you when you feel a little tap on your shoulder and turning around your stomach drops when you see the man you’ve been trying to avoid all evening.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he nods shortly, his expression is quite blank, but he is definitely not shocked to see you. You tighten your jaw before looking away from him, squinting your eyes a bit.

“You don’t seem surprised,” you point out.

“I was kind of expecting to see you here tonight.”

“So you knew who I was all along?” you snap at him, but he shakes his head.

“Not until the stream this week. I was pretty shocked when you walked on stage.”

Nodding shortly you brush your hair over your shoulder and you catch Harry glimpsing down your body, but decide not to comment on it.

“Did you know who I was?” he then asks, digging his hands into his pockets.

“No, I wouldn’t sleep with my biggest competitor willingly.”

“Just from the abrupt ending I had a feeling that you might have known me.”

“Just because a woman doesn’t throws herself into your arms after a fuck, doesn’t mean she had ulterior motives,” you scoff. “Get off your high horse,” you add before turning back towards the bar so you can order your drink. Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t want the conversation to end just yet. His hand is laid flat on the counter in front of you as he stands on your right, a little too close to your liking. You can smell the expensive cologne on him, the same that hit your nose on Friday as well and suddenly your body is betraying you.

However crazy the situation is, you can’t deny that he gave you one of the best times last Friday. Men you dealt with were more concerned about their own pleasure and most of them didn’t even get you to finish. But Harry made it happen so fast and didn’t even bitch about it when you made him rub your clit. He just obeyed like a grownup man who is willingly take care of his partner. That almost made you change your mind about leaving, but once you came down from cloud nine, you returned to your original plan.

But not as he is standing in front of you and you can smell him, your senses trick you into thinking that you’re in that bathroom again, almost aching for him to touch you the way he did then. He leans closer to your ear as he speaks up again.

“Leave the drink, dance with me,” he tells you as the bartender places your drink in front of you. You debate what to do before grabbing the drink and chugging it down in one go. You’ll need the alcohol if you are about to dance with your enemy.

Harry takes you to the dance floor in the middle of the ball room, one of his hands finds the small of your back while the other takes your hand as the two of you start swaying to the gentle music played by the band.

“Your aunt set my company back in women’s fashion every time I tried to take a step forward. Are you going to do the same?”

“She didn’t do anything to set you back but to build her own company. Not everything is about you.”

“You sound a little naïve, Love. It’s pretty clear you are new in the business.” This statement riles you up big time. How dare he degrade you like that? He knows nothing about you, yet he assumes things that are not at all real.

Smirking to yourself you lean back enough so your gazes can meet. Your hand slides up from his shoulders to the base of his neck so your fingers can gently brush against his skin and you notice the shudder than runs down his spine. He is not the only one having flashbacks from your last encounter.

“Wanna know what I know about business?” you purr, his eyes glued to your red lips as you speak. “I know that… Twisted was one of the last sites to participate in personalized ads on online platforms, failing to reach it’s targeted audience as fast as literally everyone else. I know that your company and my company use the same security system in our server rooms yet I can assure you that it cost me twenty percent less because we waited a month before installing it and got a huge last minute discount because the security company was trying to boost their numbers for their end of year closing. And I also happen to know that you are working on a new design for your website that could easily be outshone if I just did the same before you could do it.”

Harry’s lips part, probably mostly at the last information. He has no idea how you know these stuff, but you have a wide circle of connections in the city, you have an insider at every big companies in the industry without them even knowing. You’ve given countless tips to your aunt through the years, that’s how she managed to stay on top of her games.

Leaning closer your lips almost brush against him and you see how he weakens, he is expecting you to kiss him and he wants it. But you just smile at him, your eyes snapping down to his lips before up to his eyes.

“I will not do the same as my aunt, Harry,” you softly speak, your fingers grazing the back of his neck. “I will do way worse things.”

And with that, you slip out of his arms and walk back to your table, leaving him standing there alone at a complete loss of words.

“What the fuck had gotten into you?” Niall grimaces upon hearing everything he told you on the evening of the charity event. And quite frankly, Harry has no answer to that. He has absolutely no idea what had gotten into him to act like such a dick when you didn’t do anything against him.

The situation just messed with his head, seeing you in that breathtaking dress, mingling with everyone, smiling and laughing, oh how he wished you were laughing on his jokes! But then you seemed so tensed when he came up to you and something just switched in him. He wanted to take dominance, to somehow get out of it on top, but he miserably failed. When you brought up their plans to change the design he completely froze.

“No idea, okay? I just…lost it,” he growls, sinking into the couch. When Niall found out that Harry met the woman from the club again he insisted on coming over with some wine to talk it out, but he was not expecting this kind of story at all.

“Dude, you just put yourself on her radar big time, maybe she wouldn’t have even bothered to compete with you like her aunt did, but you surely changed her mind now.”

“I know, Niall!” Harry growls, not in the mood to be scolded like a little child. “Do you think she’ll change their design before we do?” he peeks at his friend, but Niall just shrugs.

“No idea, but I would try to speed it up before she actually does it.”

Harry made you into a ticking bomb and you successfully got under his skin about the whole design project so first thing the next morning he went to Zayn to discuss a possible earlier debut for the new designs. Though it would be a close stretch, they agreed that it would go live by the end of the week and that got Harry somehow a little relieved, but in the middle of that he failed to put the right amount of effort into finding designers for their female lines.

When he meets up with Lambert a few days later he is not there to deliver great news. Apparently, three out of the four designers they were negotiating with recently pulled out of their deal and signed a contract with Cometa.

“We have one last designer on the list, but then… we are out of the bigger names,” Lambert sighs as Harry chews on his bottom lip anxiously. He feels like he has fallen into a hole a while ago and instead of climbing out he is just digging it deeper underneath him.

“Okay, do we have an appointment with them?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, I’m meeting her this afternoon.”

“I’m going with you,” he nods before standing from his chair and opening the door he calls out for his assistant. “Rebecca, please clear my schedule for this afternoon, I’ll be out of the office.”

Rebecca nods behind her desk, already starting to make calls about Harry’s meetings and appointments.

It’s obvious he is anxious about the meeting, because if it falls through they are forced to look for less known designers and that won’t bring the change for the company they’ve been seeking for a long time. Arriving to the showroom where the designer is working, Harry is setting his thoughts straight, determined to convince her to sign a contract with them. The two men are let into the building by the nice assistant working at the front desk and she shows the way to the showroom where Kennedy, the designer is waiting for them.

Harry is confident, he trusts his skills to make this happen, but when they walk inside he instantly freezes upon seeing an all too familiar figure standing with Kennedy

A maroon colored pantsuit is hugging your curves, a Hermés handbag hanging from your arm, your hair falling in loose curls. As if you could sense his presence, you peek over your shoulder, a devilish smirk on your lips when you see the shocked expression on Harry’s face.

“What a great surprise!” you beam, selling how happy you are to see him and in a way, you are. You wanted to see his face drop when he realizes you snatched yet another designer from him.

“Oh, Mr. Styles!” Kennedy smiles nicely at him and he finally snaps out of his trance, shaking hands with her and then turning to you, doing the same but in a lot colder manner.

“Y/N, nice to see you again,” he fakes a smile as your hand falls from his palm.

“I could say the same. But I’m heading out now. Great talk, Kennedy. I’ll be waiting for your call,” you wink at the young designer who seems to be thrilled by your words as she walks you to the exit.

“Fucking hell,” Harry mumbles under his breath and Lambert shoots him a look before Kennedy returns.

The three of them take a seat on the couches in the corner of the room and Harry is quick to get down to business, trying his best to make his offer appear more appealing than anything you told her right before their arrival. Kennedy listens intently, even takes notes and then she shows him some examples of what she was thinking about for her next line and Harry is beyond thrilled.

Unfortunately, soon comes the painful part.

“Harry, I’m gonna be honest with you,” Kennedy starts and Harry already knows what she is about to say. “Your offer is very tempting and it would be an honor to design a line for Twisted, but in my situation it would be more beneficial if I collaborated with Cometa. It is nothing against your company, it’s more about my personal path and growth.”

Harry can feel his stomach dropping and he clenches his jaw as he listens to Kennedy’s worth. He understands, of course he understands, she has the right to selfishly look at her own benefits upon signing with a new company, but he wished she would take the risk and chose his company instead of yours.

“I’m keeping the offer open for you still,” he forces a smile on his face. “If you change your mind, Twisted would be more than happy to work with you.”

Kennedy walks the two men out and the fake smile quickly vanishes from Harry’s face upon stepping out of the building.

“What are we going to do now?” Lambert asks, clearly worried about how they’re gonna move forward with their last chance falling.

“If Y/N wants a war, that’s what she’ll get,” Harry growls, revenge burning in the greens of his eyes.

It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, only hours left from the day before you are headed home finally. You’re sitting in your office with Leslie, going over next week’s schedule to make sure everything is set and clear.

It’s been almost an entire month since you stepped into your aunt’s shoes as head of the company and though the start was a little rough, especially with finding out who Harry was, but you feel like you have everything under your control by now. After all, you didn’t learn business for years from the bests for nothing, right?

Harry’s comment on you knowing nothing about the industry made you bitter, because he knows nothing about you and the struggle you went through your life to get to this point. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbow, being Julia’s niece might have been a hugely influencing aspect of you taking over, but you worked your ass off to be the best leader you can and not just ruin everything she built up through her whole life.

Though you didn’t always want to be the one following her, but you like to think that things worked out to your favor and you are where you should be.

“Alright, everything is looking fine,” Leslie smiles at you over her laptop. “I’ll send you the notes from today’s meeting.”

“Thank you. Can you call in with the delivery company about next month’s transactions?” you ask her and she nods, already adding it to her list of tasks for the rest of the day. “Alright. I’ll do the rest of the signings and then we can head out,” you smile at her.

Leslie is grabbing her things from the table when there’s a soft knock on the door. You give your permission and one of the tech support guys walk in with a worried look on his face.

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m afraid we have a problem,” he clears his throat and you can already feel your anxiety crawl up on your spine.

“What is it?” you ask firmly. The guy steps farther inside, fumbling with his fingers as he presents the issue.

“There’s been an attempt to break our software’s security system where we keep our data about the sellings. A-And I’m afraid it wasn’t just an attempt, they succeeded.”

You take a deep breath, glancing over at Leslie for a moment before you follow the man to the tech department to investigate the issue further. You don’t know shit about these stuff, but from what he said you know the trouble is huge and if you don’t solve it as soon as possible, valuable data could leak out to the public. They try to explain you what they are working on as of right now and that there’s not much you can actually help with.

“Make sure to put your extra hours on your attendance sheets and let me know when you are able to restore the system,” you tell them and you earn quite a few thank yous on your way out for actually paying the overtime. Then you turn to the guy that first came to your office. “Do you have any information about who it could have been?”

“We weren’t able to track them back, but whoever it was, they’re surely professionals and they might know the system from the inside.”

“What do you mean from the inside? Someone did it from the company?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together as you fold your arms on your chest.

“No,” he shakes his head. “We would have been able to track that back. I mean that they know the system, maybe they worked somewhere where the same one was used and they could see into it.”

It takes you a few moments before you realize what this really is and it has your blood boiling right away. Nodding shortly you exhale sharply through your nose.

“Thank you, please call me when it’s up and running again, I’ll take care of the rest,” you tell him before turning around you walk away.

When Leslie sees you approaching your office with a head practically turning red she is quick to jump to her feet, following you into the office.

“What’s happening?”

“Harry Styles, that’s what happening,” you snap as you grab your phone, purse and coat before heading out, not wasting another minute.

“What? Where are you going now?”

“To the devil himself,” you growl back and enter the elevator, leaving her alone with her questions.

Sitting in your car on your way to the headquarters of Twisted, you imagine every scenario you want to make happen when you arrive, most of them including hitting the man across his ridiculously handsome yet annoying face. He crossed a line with breaking into your system and stealing valuable data. Though you’re sure he wouldn’t dare to sell or publish it, because he would be in a big legal trouble if he did, he still had a glimpse into your numbers and that’s already an advantage. He is playing dirty and you’re not having any of it.

Arriving you burst through the doors and demand to see him. Though the woman behind the front desk tells you that you can’t see him without an appointment, you still get her to make a call up and naturally, Harry allows you to see him. The fucker might already have been waiting for you to show up. As you stand in the all glass elevator, on your way up to meet him you take a few deep breaths to keep your cool and not snap like a maniac, however it all vanishes when you see him waiting for you with that shit-eating grin on his face when you step out of the elevator.

“You’re lucky I didn’t go straight to the police with your little stunt, you fucker!” you snap, not able to hold back your swearing any longer.

“Do you have any evidence?” he tilts his head to the side and you don’t miss how his gaze runs down your body as you march towards him. You’d find it flattering in another situation, but right now you just want to punch him in the face.

“I’ll show some evidence down your throat, Styles, if you don’t stop messing with my security system,” you growl back, standing so close to him now that you see every tiny freckle and blemish on his face and the way how he clenches his jaw, holding his gaze on yours.

Without a word or invitation, you walk into the room that you suppose is his office and he follows with a soft chuckle.

“Did you hire a hacker just to mess with me?” you throw the question at him as he closes the door so his employees don’t hear everything.

“What if I did?” he shrugs, stepping to the tray on his desk that already has a glass of whiskey on it. He grabs the glass and simply lifts it to his lips, taking a tiny sip from it. “Oh, excuse my manners. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m driving,” you answer shortly. “You crossed a line, Harry,” you warn him.

“What line?” he chuckles, rather entertained by your rage. “After what you pulled with Kennedy, I think I went easy on you.”

“I didn’t pull anything, I just gave her a better offer! It’s not my fault she has better chances with my company!” you snap back, feeling your heartbeat fastening from the anger that’s boiling in your veins.

“You knew I wanted her to design for me, why couldn’t you just let one person out of your endless list? You already have everyone else, she was my last fucking chance!” Harry barks back, clearly having some built up tension in him as well.

“If you didn’t act like an arrogant asshole at the charity gala, I would have happily let you work with her, but then you felt the need to fucking degrade me! That’s why I didn’t let you get away with it!”

Harry opens his mouth to answer, but he quickly closes his mouth, probably knowing well you’re right. He did act shitty towards you that evening and he has no excuse for his behavior. You walk closer until there are just a few feet between the two of you, your eyes glued to his burning green gaze that’s staring back at you, but before you could speak up, he cuts you off.

“Well, you know. All is fair in… war and business,” he shrugs and you honestly barely can stop yourself from laughing at how stupid that just sounded. You can’t miss the twitch in the corner of his mouth as well and you can’t believe how easily he made you break out of your rage.

“Don’t try to make money out of writing slogans,” you huff shaking your head and now he is grinning widely. “Do you have the data?”

“I don’t,” he answers and you narrow your eyes at him.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he chuckles. “I had it, but I already deleted it. I know it wasn’t ethical so as soon as it was handed to me I deleted it. I didn’t even look into it. I just wanted to scare you.”

“And how do I know your hacker doesn’t have it either?”

“Because he signed a contract that would cost him millions to break and I don’t think a junior in college who is still living in a dorm can afford that,” he points out and now you are somewhat convinced. You stare back at him for a few more seconds before nodding.

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours, how does that sound?” you offer generously.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he questions with a smug smirk that makes your arch an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?” he then asks and you can’t mask your surprise in front of him.

“That does not concern you, Styles,” you scoff, though it boosts your ego that even through all the hate you’ve been targeting at each other, he still wants you the same way he did at the club that evening. You can’t deny, this rivalry has sparked a few thoughts in you as well, but you are not going to fall into the same mistake you made that evening. You pay him another smirk before turning around and heading towards the door. “Stay out of my way, Styles!” you call back without looking at him, but you just know he is grinning at you, a growing sexual tension thickening the atmosphere in the room.

“Or what?” he smugly questions and you stop at the door, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“Or… You said it yourself. All is fair in war and business,” you smirk before walking out of the office.

Following your visit to Harry’s office things take a… playful turn in your rivalry. The attempts and competing don’t stop, both of you are on each other’s radar, ruining and messing with each other’s projects and works whenever and wherever it’s possible, but it’s not as hateful as it was at the beginning. If something, it even helps you to always be on your toes and watch out for possible threats, not just from Harry but from everyone else.

Neither of you succeeds in evolving in each other’s field, Cometa keeps thriving in women’s fashion with a quite small variety offered for the gentlemen while Twisted fails to grow out of men’s fashion and venture to the ladies, but somehow it’s not as frustrating as it used to be before.

Harry keeps up his flirty acts and tries to ask you out every time your paths cross each other, but you relentlessly turn him down every time, only fueling him to keep chasing after you more the next time. It’s a thrilling and flattering little game, knowing that even with all the rivalry between the two of you, being the biggest competitors in the business… he still wants you.

New York fashion week rolls around and it’s by far one of your favorite times in the year. You managed to snatch an exclusive deal with YSL to release a special line just for the fashion week and it sold out in the first two hours, now waiting to be restocked in a few days. Cometa is thriving and your aunt has expressed her pride towards the work you’ve been doing at the company, so things are heading the right direction.

You knew Harry would be attending the same shows as you, but it’s fate or just luck that you are seated next to each other at one of the shows, giving you the chance to talk without any of you attempting to corrupt the other this time.

Harry is already sitting in his seat when you arrive wearing a custom made Gucci dress, something that immediately catches his eyes since he is a huge fan of the brand himself.

“Your fashion sense never disappoints, Y/N,” he beams up at you as you take the seat next to him.

“Hope that’s not surprising, Styles,” You smirk at him, taking a glance at his own Gucci outfit, the checkered pants fitting him perfectly while the pussy bow adds some spice to the whole outfit, you have to admit. He looks good, he always does.

“Any plans after the show?” he asks right before the lights go out and the show starts. You leave him without an answer, just let out a soft chuckle as you glue your eyes to the first model who walks the runway.

Once the show is over you head out with Harry by your side, having an actually entertaining discussion about the designs you just saw. He might not be an expert in fashion, but he has developed a good sense through his years.

As you make your way out of the venue you are stopped by an interviewer and Harry remains on your side as the woman asks you a few questions about the show.

“I’ve always wondered, does it bother you that you couldn’t be on the runway yourself? You’ve been sitting front row the past years, but you once had aspirations of being a model yourself, is that right?”

The question makes you tense up and you can feel Harry’s puzzled look on you from the side.

“It’s not like it was my fault for not making it up there,” you sass back, forcing a smile to your face.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” the woman chuckles and it has your blood boiling, because you know the real meaning behind her words.

It’s your fault you didn’t become a model because you were never thin enough to be one. It was your fault and not the industry’s to hold impossible standards to women who wanted to succeed as a model.

The smile falters from your face and you take a long, judgmental look at the woman in front of you. Because if she is brave enough to talk like that to you, you’re not gonna shy away from bringing her spirits down either.

“Judging from your appearance and attitude you wouldn’t make it either,” you spitefully reply and her smile quickly fades, clearly shocked at your answer. You open your mouth again, ready to continue, but then you feel a hand on the small of your back and you realize Harry is still standing next to you.

“Come on, we have somewhere to be, right?” he smiles kindly as you just simply nod and walk away from the woman before she could offend you again.

Harry senses your tension as the two of you leave the venue but doesn’t try to talk to you and that’s a wise choice from him. As you step out of the building you realize that if you went home now you’d probably get drunk on your own and let that comment get to you more than you should. So instead of doing that you turn to Harry.

“So, what are our plans?” you ask and you don’t miss the small smile on his lips as he stares back at you.

Not in the mood to stay around people at a bar you accept Harry’s invitation to his place, since it’s also close. The contrast between his extravagant penthouse and your cozy but still quite modern townhouse in Park Slope is major, but you didn’t expect anything less from the man.

You’ve managed to calm down since you left the venue, but you’re still quite bitter about the comment the woman made. Harry hasn’t tried to ask you about it, but you can tell he is dying to know more about the situation that’s behind the madness.

He fixes you a drink and you find yourself sinking into his comfortable and probably ridiculously expensive couch in his living room area.

“I used to want to be a model,” you start, breaking the silence that settled between the two of you. “When I was a teen. I was a lot thinner, I was a competitive dancer until I was seventeen, but I had a knee injury, so I had to quit.”

Harry sits on the other end of the couch, listening to you with patience as he sips on his own drink.

“I was never as thin as the other models at the agency I was trying to get into, but I definitely wasn’t overweight. Yet, they labelled me as a plus size model. I was a healthy, strong young girl with a perfectly good body, yet they told me that I was too fat to be a model.”

Glancing at Harry, you can tell that he is surprised at the information he just learned. He is probably picturing you thinner now, going to model castings and if you’re being honest you enjoyed that part. The trouble came when you got rejection after rejection, telling you to lose weight and come back after that.

“I quit my whole plan to be a model and studied fashion and business instead, consciously working my way towards this point. But I never got over how the industry made me feel less of a person because I wasn’t a size zero.”

For a few long moments Harry just stares at you and it’s actually nice that he doesn’t try to make you feel better right away, praising you how you are perfect just the way you are. Because you’re not, but that’s fine because no one is.

“I’ve honestly never seen a more cruel industry than fashion before,” he then speaks up. “I didn’t grow up in it and still don’t really have that much and deep connection with it, but I know how fucked up it is. And it’s nice to see that you know your worth even after everything that happened.”

Your gaze meets his and you’re looking for any sign that gives away that he is just messing with you, but it’s all genuine. You just shoot him a small smile before lifting your drink to your lips. It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared with him, including the ones you had in that bathroom.

“Okay, now you tell me something about your life,” you prompt, wanting to divert the conversation on him a little bit.

“What do you want to know?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

“Why did you name your brand Twisted?” you ask. The question has been on your mind for a while.

“It’s coming from my mum’s name. Anne Twist.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, you weren’t expecting such a deep and personal reason behind the name, connected to a family member.

“Why her?”

“Why not?” he smirks shrugging his shoulders. “She raised me and my sister up, I wouldn’t be here without her. It was obvious I would make her be part of it in some kind of way.”

“That’s actually very nice. Who knew that you could be something other than an egoistic asshole!” you joke, making him laugh as well.

“Okay, what’s the meaning behind your brand?” he then turns it back around.

“Well, my aunt met her husband when they were very young, maybe eighteen. She fell in love with Fabio on her trip to Italy and being the impulsive and adventurous woman that she is, she stayed for a month there just because of Fabio. He is a very passionate man and he was always ready to bring the stars down for Julia. He always used to tell her that he would even catch a comet for her, if that’s what she wanted. And that was my aunt’s favorite saying from him. Cometa is comet in Italian. It’s her tribute to the love of her life.”

“That’s easily the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Harry hums and you just smile nodding at him. It really is like a fairytale and it’s also one of the reasons why you were so happy to take her place at Cometa. Julia is still just as in love with Fabio as she was at eighteen and she deserves to spend more time with her beloved husband. She earned the time off after all the sacrifices she made for the company and all through them Fabio stayed by her side. It’s their well-earned happy ending now.

“You know a lot about romantic things?” you cock an eyebrow at him, finishing up your drink.

“Actually, I’m a quite romantic guy.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah, you just never gave me the chance to show it to you.”

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” you chuckle, handing him your glass when he stands from the couch to get you a refill.

“Exactly!” he chuckles holding up your empty glass on his way. “I hope you know you absolutely broke my heart when you didn’t give me your number that night.”

“Oh, you poor little thing,” you chuckle, resting your head in your palm, your elbow on the back of the couch. “I’m not sorry though. You didn’t give out the right vibes.”

“The right vibes?” he huffs as he returns with your drink and now sits a little closer to you. “What vibe did I give you?” “The vibe that told me I shouldn’t mess with you,” you simply answer as you take a sip from your refilled drink.

“You were so keen on hating me even before you knew who I was, I can’t believe you,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“I’m just cautious!” you protest. “I’ve dealt with some problematic men in the past, I can’t let myself walk right into another one that easily.”

“What did they do?”

“Some men just can’t treat women right. Especially confident ones with a body like mine,” you simply shrug.

Men like to think that bigger girls are so terribly insecure about their body that they need the validation of a male to feel good about themselves. But when you’re confident and feel good in your own skin without needing them to praise you, they think that you’re egoistic, so full of yourself and they are quick to try to drag you down. That’s something you can’t tolerate. You don’t need a man to feel good about yourself, you don’t need anyone for that. You know your worth and that’s all that matters.

Harry’s eyes travel down your body, taking his time on your curves and you smile shaking your head as you reach out and cupping his chin you pull his head up so he is looking into your eyes.

“I honestly can’t see what problem anyone could have with your body. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since our bathroom fiasco,” he bluntly comments making you chuckle, even flattered by his words.

“You are such a flirt,” you grin at him and he doesn’t try to protest.

You stay for a couple more drinks and you drop the heavier topics, venturing over to music, fashion and any funny stories that come to your mind. Harry is actually amazing company when you’re not trying to jump at each other’s throat and for a few short hours you forget that he is supposed to be your competitor.

You’re a little tipsy, but you are definitely not drunk, so when Harry offers you to stay the night you turn it down, calling yourself a car since you are not in the right state to drive.

“I’ll come and pick my car up in the morning,” you breathe out as you put your heels back on that came off your feet sometime during the evening, making yourself home in his place.

“I’ll text you the security number to the garage,” he nods, walking you to the elevator.

“Thank you. And… I guess thank you for the evening,” you smile at him, turning to face him. He is standing close, but still takes a step closer, one of his hands finding your waist as he pulls you against his chest. Your palms lie flat on his chest as you try to get yourself to the right mindset to leave now before you regret doing something. Leaning down his nose nudges against your cheek, before he presses a soft kiss under below your ear, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I should go, the car is here,” you breathe out, but don’t move.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, his lips peppering kisses on your jaw and your cheek, as if you didn’t say a word. You want to continue it, not just because of the alcohol but because the sexual tension between the two of you has been growing since that charity gala, but the remainder of your rationality stops you before your lips could meet.

“Bye Harry,” you smile at him softly as you push him away and you walk into the elevator, leaving him hanging. Again.

“Bye Y/N. I’m still going to try to ruin your company!” he calls after you as you turn around to face him, the sliding doors slowly closing between the two of you.

“Same back at you, Styles,” you smirk before the door closes and you are taken down.

Well, that was a lie. Following your evening at his place neither of you really tries to work against the other, leaving each other be without any fuss. It might also have something to do with how you kept in touch after that day. You’ve been texting occasionally, attending some events together, even had a business dinner together with a few other peers from the industry. Things have been quiet and you’ve been feeling content with the current state you’ve managed to reach. Or so you thought.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you. You both put your projects aside that targeted the other’s profile. Harry stopped looking for designers for his women lines and you put your men department to the side as well. There were a lot to work on beside these fields so you felt like you were in peace. Right until Leslie bursts into your office on a casual Tuesday.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, placing a tablet in front of you with an Instagram account open on it.

You want to ask what you’re supposed to look at, but then you realize what it really is. A shiny new account for a new brand that promises to take online shopping to the next level; female and male as well.

“You think it could be…?” you ask, not quite convinced that Harry is behind this.

“Well, the wording is similar to theirs and creating a new brand might be a solution to their gap in women’s fashion,” she points it out, though you don’t want to believe he could have been working on this all along, basically in front of your face.

But it’s a possibility and you have to consider this option before jumping into defending him without any proof.

“Men can’t be trusted,” you grumble under your breath before jumping into work.

What you didn’t know is that an eerily similar situation goes down in Harry’s office as well when Zayn bursts in, showing him the ad he found for the new brand called Farfalla.

Harry immediately digs up everything about the company, though there’s not much other than their new Instagram account and heavy marketing that started just yesterday.

“What is Farfalla even?” he grimaces leaning back in his chair.

“It means butterfly in Italian,” Zayn explains and Harry’s eyes flicker up to him.

“Italian? You think it’s her?”

“It’s possible,” Zayn nods. “Starting a new brand to finally reach men’s fashion is a good idea.”

“She wouldn’t have done this,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief. Could you be working on this all along? Was this your plan from the start? To make him fall for you and forget about business while you built up your new empire to ruin him?

“What if she did?” Zayn prompts and in a way his suspicion is valid, but Harry is having a hard time believing it. You would never play him this dirty, not after how the two of you have grown closer in the past weeks, almost became friends.

“What are you going to do?” Zayn asks him as he pushes himself away from the desk and quite obviously starts getting ready to leave.

“She is not getting away from this,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he grabs his coat and phone before storming out of the office.

It’s past six when Harry gets to Cometa’s building and he is informed that you’ve already went home. He could have just come back in the morning, but he knew he would just stew in his own anger if he didn’t talk to you as soon as possible. So using his charm he gets the woman sitting behind the front desk to share your address with him, saying that he needs to talk to you urgently. That’s how he finds himself heading to Park Slope, slightly surprised you are not living somewhere in the heart of Manhattan.

As the scenery around his changes, skyscrapers turning into brick buildings and townhouses, Harry tries to figure out what he even wants to say to you. Should he just get straight down to business and accuse you? Snap at you? Or should he give you the chance to explain yourself? He can’t really make up his mind, mostly because he still feels like you betrayed him even though he can’t be sure Farfalla is yours.

Parking down at the address he got from the woman, he stares up at the deep red brick townhouse, a simple, black door at the top of the stairs that’s lined with a few potted plants and flowers. This is not what he would have imagined your home like, but now that he is standing on your doormat, he realizes it kind of suits you.

Ringing the bell he hopes that you’re home and not out and about somewhere in the city, but when he hears the familiar sound of heels clicking on the floor he knows you are on the other side. When the front door flings open and you come into his sight, for a split second he forgets why he is here and his anger vanishes. As always, you look amazing, a tight, black dress hugging your curves, the middle part appearing like it’s a corset, emphasizing the dip of your waist. Your hair is let down in loose curls and your feet are bare, but he knows you probably wore heels all day. You must have gotten home not long ago and as your eyes fall on the man at the door, your expression hardens on him.

“You really had the balls to come her, huh?” you cock your head to the side, keeping your eyes on his green ones for a moment before you let him inside.

“Did you think you could get away with it?” he huffs walking into the hallway and stopping as you close the door and turn to him.

“Me? I could say the same! You thought I would just ignore it or what? I proved you a few times that I’m not stupid, Harry,” you retort, folding your arms on your chest as you walk past him, into the kitchen and he follows.

“You surely are not stupid, playing me so dirty behind my back!” Harry spats standing his ground. “Playing all friendly and nice and then make a fool out of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you question narrowing your eyes at him as you lean against the kitchen island’s counter. “If anyone played dirty it’s you! And you have the balls to come here and talk like this to me in my own fucking home?!” you snap, walking closer to him, keeping your deathly glare on him.

“What the fuck did I do?!” he scoffs throwing his hands into the air.

“You created a whole new brand just to fuck with me! Or did you think I wouldn’t find out about it?!”

“Me? You made a new brand! And you didn’t do a great job hiding the fact that it was your work, even the name is Italian, like your current one!”

You stare back at him, tilting your head to the side as you process what he is talking about. All along, the two of you were accusing each other of something neither of you did.

“Harry,” you breathe out, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Farfalla is not my brand.”

“And I’m supposed to believe it?!”

“Well you better be because it’s the fucking truth!”

“Prove it!” he hisses at you, taking a step closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Until about twenty seconds ago I thought that it was your new brand, Harry. I thought that you were the one who backstabbed me!” you snap back, standing up for yourself in this giant misunderstanding you fell into, accusing each other without any proof.

Harry stares back at you, his gaze burning into yours as he stands his ground and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he processes your words.

“So… it’s not yours? You didn’t do it to fuck me up?”

“Of course not!” you breathe out, suddenly quite tired of all the anger that’s been eating you away through the afternoon. “I thought that we had a kind of silent agreement not to mess with each other so I wasn’t planning anything anytime soon. That’s why I got so mad when I thought you did it!”

“I thought the same!” he growls shaking his head. “I thought you did it all to just make me look stupid, that the friendly act was just so I wouldn’t notice a thing and I fell right into your trap.”

“There was no trap,” you simply tell him and you hope he senses the hidden meaning behind your words.

Luckily he does. But for your biggest surprise there’s no snarky comment or smug smirking, he just steps closer and before you could even protest, his hands find your waist and he pulls you against his hard chest, lips hungry attacking yours. He makes you back until you bump against the kitchen island, his hips pressing against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface, his hands wandering on your sides and back, up and down, exploring every curve of your body while his kisses never slow down, your tongues meeting in the middle.

Bringing up a leg you curl it around his hips, your heel digging into his round ass as he leans forward, making you arch your back, leaning onto the counter as his lips move from your lips to your jawline and neck, his fingers digging into your waist and the thigh that’s lifted by his side. He nibbles on the soft skin of your neck, definitely leaving a mark, but you just comb your fingers through his hair, letting yourself get lost in the sensation.

“As much as I would love to fuck you on a counter again, can we take this to a bedroom?” he mumbles as he kisses his way back up to your lips, smirking against them as he captures them again.

You don’t answer, just grab his hand and pull him upstairs with you, right into your bedroom. He is all over you, lips, hands, tongue, pressed up against you as the two of you stumble your way to your king sized bed. Harry’s fingers fidget with the corset on your dress, but he soon realizes it’s a little trickier than he expected, so leaning back he furrows his eyebrows as he glances down at the dress, still trying to figure out how to get you out of it.

“Harry,” you smile at him softly. “It’s faux. There’s a zipper at the back,” you inform him and he sighs in defeat as he kisses you again, his fingers quickly finding the zipper. The dress pools at your feet and you rid him from his jacket and shirt, revealing his inked chest, a sight you’ve been thinking about way too much lately.

By the time the two of you fall to your bed, neither of you are dressed in more than just your underwear. Because both of you like to be in charge, you roll around for a while, trying to get on top of each other but eventually Harry stays up when he starts going down on you, kissing his way through your heated skin. You don’t shy away when his hands snake under your back and easily unclasps your bra, being bare in front of him is not something that makes you feel uncomfortable or insecure. The way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel brings you so much confidence, you have absolutely no problem being nude.

When your bra flies to the floor, Harry leans back a little to admire you lying there, before his lips find their way over the curve of your breasts, down your stomach. Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties he tugs them down easily as you lift your hips, your thighs parting as you bare yourself in front of him.

“Don’t be shy about screaming my name,” he smugly tells you before his lips and tongue meet your clit. Your fingers lace through his hair immediately as you gasp out at the sensation, his tongue drawing the whole fucking alphabet to your bundle of nerves. His arms curl around your thighs, ring clad fingers digging into your flesh as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Harry! Yes!” you moan out, tugging on his locks when he teases his tongue around your hole, your walls tightening around nothing as you are growing desperate to feel something inside of you.

You pull on his hair, signaling him that you want to get it on with, Hands reaching down to get rid of his boxer briefs before you blindly pull out the drawer of your nightstand, grabbing a condom. His lips eagerly meet yours as he wraps his erected cock and though you would love to have a taste of him like he did with you, you just want to feel him inside you.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he growls against your lips, teasing you with running just the head up and down your slit.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna rip your guts out,” you warn him, earning a soft chuckle as he kisses you again, tongue pushing into your mouth as he finally pushes inside you, his long, thick cock filling you up perfectly and it somehow feels even better than the first time.

“Go hard,” you gasp, a hand coming to grab his ass as you push him even further into you. He doesn’t need more, he starts slamming into you, his hips meeting yours roughly with each thrust, his whole length disappearing inside you every time.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on the soft skin. You almost think about telling him not to mark you, but it just turns you on even more so you let him do whatever he wants.

“I want to see you on top,” he pants, lifting his head so his gaze could meet yours. You nod, before the two of you turn around and you straddle his hips, guiding him back inside you as you sink down his length. Your hands are sprawled out on his hard chest as you find your balance in the position, Harry’s eyes roaming your body up and down, not able to get enough of how blissful you look, sitting with his cock buried inside of you, enjoying yourself to the fullest. His hands run up your thighs and upper body until they find your breasts, kneading them as you start moving your hips up and down, back and forth. When you moan his name or gasp because his cock reaches that one particular spot inside you, those are the moments he wishes he could capture on camera and watch whenever he wants.

“I want it from back,” you pant as you lean down and kiss him roughly. That’s all he needs, he helps you get off of him before you get on all four, pushing your butt up in the air while Harry kneels behind you, the sight in front of him hardening his cock even more, if that’s possible. His hands grab onto your waist as he pushes inside you, making you both let out a satisfied moan before he starts moving again.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, Y/N. I love your ass,” he growls, giving it a smack that surprises you, but you absolutely love it.

“Harry, go faster!” you whimper, feeling your orgasm nearing as you grip the comforter on the bed, desperate to reach your climax. You’re just about to reach down between your legs to play with your clit when Harry not only picks his pace up but also reaches around you, two of his fingers starting the circling motions on the bundle of nerves, making your legs shake from the pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my cock,” he growls, railing you from behind without missing a beat.

“Harry!” you scream when he thrusts into you so harshly, your whole body rocking in the motion.

“Come on, angel. Cum for me,” he murmurs and leaning down he wraps his arms around you, bringing you up straight, your back pressing against his sweaty chest, his hands coming to cup your breasts as he keeps thrusting up into you, pushing you over the edge.

You moan and gasp and scream his name as your walls tighten around his length, riding out your bliss and it helps him reach his own high, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck and shoulder, grunting and cursing under his breath as he fills the condom.

As his thrusts come to a halt, he sinks into a sitting position, bringing you with him, you lean against him feeling like jelly as you’re still just trying to catch your breath. Harry peppers your shoulder with small kisses before you muster the energy to break the position and lie down on the bed.

“Towel is in the bathroom,” you tell him knowing that’s what he’ll look for as he stands from the bed and you point at the door that leads to the joined bathroom. Harry nods and pads his way in there, cleaning himself up before he returns with a small damp towel, doing the same for you. He drops it to the floor next to the bed before joining you, cradling you into his arms as you take a breather together.

One hand is on your shoulder, fingers dancing on the naked skin, the other one is holding your thigh that’s across his lap while your head is resting on his chest.

“You really thought I would backstab you like that?” he hums after a while, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You did the same,” you answer, lifting your head, resting your chin on his chest.

“Touché,” he chuckles, before leaning down he kisses you shortly. “So, if neither of us did it, then we have a quite major problem on our hands.”

“I know,” you hum. “That shit looks promising and they can easily ruin both of us.”

Harry stays silent for a little, but you can see the gears turning in his head. When his gaze snaps back at you, you know he has an idea.

“Unless… we join forces.” Your eyebrows arch as you stare back at him. “I know it’s a risky move, but this is the only way to stay on the top.”

“How much you want to be joined?”

“We could start with just one line, the men part designed by someone from me and the women by someone from you. And if it presents well we can just figure out where to go from there. Obviously, the men part would be sold by us and the women by you, but we could join the pages and direct users to each other’s sites in connection with the lines.”

“That could… actually work,” you nod shortly, thinking about the idea. It needs a lot of planning, but it could actually be a big hit if you do it right. “And you’re willing to partner with me?” you ask cheekily as you push yourself up into a sitting position, Harry doing the same.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m willing to do about anything with you,” he chuckles, making you smile at his playful answer. “I hope you know I’m not talking about just business,” he then adds with a meaningful look.

“You are still so keen on this?” you sigh, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“Do you not like being with me?”

“I do, surprisingly,” you roll your eyes, making him laugh.

“Do you not like having sex with me?”

“I think the answer is pretty obvious to that,” you give him a look as he smirks back at you.

“Yeah, but I want to hear it.”

“I enjoy having sex with you, Harry,” you roll your eyes again, but he just kisses you short but hard before leaning back.

“So then why shouldn’t we date?”

“Because we are competitors?”

“We just agreed that we should join forces. We are partners now.”

“You are running a little ahead, Harry,” you cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, I haven’t been in a relationship in ages. I probably suck at it at this point,” you shrug, but it’s just a lame excuse and you both know that. Leaning closer Harry smirks at you smugly.

“I have something else you can suck.” You smack his chest at his nasty remark, but can’t push a smile back. His hand finds the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss. “I want you, Y/N. I really do. You are all I think about even when you are an annoying piece of shit, getting under my skin. I still want you.”

“Wow, so romantic,” you chuckle shaking your head. “What if we can’t get over our differences in the business? That can easily poison any relationship.”

“Then we’ll have a lot of mind-blowing angry and makeup sex. Those are the best. We can put all our frustration into sex, I think that’s just perfect.”

“What are you, a horny teenager? Sex is all you can think about?” you chuckle.

“It is when I’m lying in a bed with you naked. You can’t blame me,” he grins smugly and you want to hate him, you want to hate him so badly, but you can’t. You want him just as much as he wants you.

“So… partners?” he prompts, tilting his head to the side with a sweet smile as he waits for your answer.

“Partners in business and life?”

“Mhm, that’s the plan,” he nods, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Alright,” you breathe out. “So… it’s not—All is fair in war and business?” you ask teasingly, using his own words from earlier.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

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mrsmount16 · 3 years ago

Note

Hey I was wondering if you could write a MM imagine where him and the reader have only gone on a couple of dates then when the announcement of the first lockdown is made he asks the reader to isolate with him? Then I was thinking while they’re isolating they’re experiencing a few Firsts with each other (e.g., cooking together, sharing a bed, movie nights, cuddles and kisses etc).

I didn't know how to write this without being super long and boring so I was going to section it off but hopefully it still gives off the same energy then a normal write lmao, also thank you for the request and this is such a good idea 😩. I didn't really know what other firsts to do😕 I haven’t proof read this either, so it could make no sense at all and probably have spelling mistakes but pls just power through it 🤞🏼

Warning: None.

Lockdown was being announced and everyone was panicking, the news emphasised on the amount of food people were buying and how there was no loo roll left but also about how relationships weren't going to work out due to being locked in the houses for all this time without seeing your significant other or because you was seeing them too much.

You had only been on a couple of dates with Mason, but you both knew that you wanted to pursue something more personal and deep and not just mess around for the fun of it. Thats why when he asked you to isolate with him you didn't hesitate to say yes. Even though the news told you otherwise of how to feel you simply ignored and couldn't wait to spend as much time with him as possible, building up a true connection between you both and making your bond stronger.

Cuddling and kisses and sharing a bed.

You arrived earlier in the day and had already taken your things to the spare bedroom and now sat on his couch, him on the opposite side. You guys hadn't stopped talking throughout the whole movie that played and eventually when it ended you insisted that you bought a takeaway for the both of you.

He agreed and when the pizza arrived you both sat at the table and had a slice, talking endlessly about random things like 'why colours are named what they are' and 'how were humans created'. After about an hour, it was dark out and just turned 9pm.

"I'm gonna get comfy and ready for bed."

"Yeah, I'll meet you up there in a few." He smiled and kissed your cheek, grabbing the box and walking off outside.

It was pretty cold out so you pulled on a hoodie and joggers, and you removed your makeup and cleaned your face and teeth and sat on the bed in the free room on your phone.

He knocked on the door and peaked his head through the door frame at about 10.

"You coming?" He gestures to his room.

"Oh yeah, hold up." You smile watching him leave.

He lay on the bed on his phone, lighting up when he saw you enter.

"You don't have to stay in here if you don't want to." He stated, watching as you climbed into bed next to him.

"No, I want to." You snuggled up next to him, resting your head on the pillow.

"I want you to, too." He put an arm around your waist and finally rested down after turning the light off on the bedside table.

You were both submerged in complete darkness, a tranquil atmosphere surrounded you both, the duvet lazily spread across you and your faces faced each other. His eyes were closed, but you lightly leaned in and pecked his lips causing him to open his eyes.

"Goodnight." You said, looking up at him.

"Goodnight pretty." He smiled, kissing you again lightly and resting his head.

You fell asleep in his arms, totally engulfed with his care and serenity, it rubbed off onto you. This was the best sleep you ever had in ages, and you wanted to do it a lot more.

Cooking.

"Hey! Thats not where the flour goes." You retaliated at Mason putting the flour on your nose, a sneeze followed shortly after.

"Oh, my bad." He giggled, sticking the rest of the flour in the bowl.

"These are going to be the best cupcakes you have ever baked."You said, mixing all the ingredients with all the strength you had.

"Yeah? I reckon by myself I could cook some pretty good cupcakes. With no help of Course." He leaned against the counter, his apron said 'world best chef' and he was covered in all ingredients that you didn't even know had to be in the cupcakes.

"Well, we will see about that once you taste my cakes." You smirked, sticking your tongue out at him and wiping a little bit of frosting on his cheek. "Got u back." You giggled.

He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you closer to him so your front's were together.

"You look amazing cooking.." He cheekily smiled.

"Not too bad yourself." You kissed him, he deepened the kiss and ran his hand up your back, until you felt a hard crack on your head and then an ooze of a liquid go down your back, mason was laughing uncontrollably, holding his stomach and near enough rolling on the floor.

"Mason!" You shouted, shocked and holding your head, "Did you just egg me?" You laughed, grabbing the egg that was on you and smearing it all over him.

"Two can play that game!" You giggled, grabbing flower and eggs.

Fight and makeup.

"No, I just don't particularly like her. You told me about what she did, she's a bad influence." He argued back.

"Oh, so she's a bad influence? So you think I would do something like that?" You scoffed. Your friend invited you to go on a walk around the park, and you told Mason but when he heard your friends name he instantly scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. He had no care about it and sighed, telling you to just 'do what you wanna, your choice at the end of the day.'. You asked why he was being so moody and he replied that he doesn't like her, and you understood why but because he didn't like her didn't mean that you couldn't hang with her. You did tell him that she did cheat on her boyfriend and you completely disagreed with her actions too but now he was saying she was a 'bad influence' like you was going to be influenced by what she did and start following her actions like you was a child.

"Its only for a catch up Mase, I haven't seen her in like 3 weeks. I haven't been at work remember and ive been locked up here."

"Yes, but anyone but her. We could go. I't doesn't matter, just go. Ill see you when you get back." And then he stormed off up to his gaming room, releasing all his stress on his games.

After about 40 minutes, you realised he was right, it wasn't just the cheating but she just overall was a bad person and you shouldn't have been encouraging such gossip with her.

You entered his room and put your hands on his shoulders, he looked back at you and then carried on his game like you wasn't even there.

"I'm sorry Mase, you was right. I can surround myself with much better people, and I will."

He turned his chair around so he was facing you and grabbed your hips to sit you down on his lap.

"It's okay, and ill go on that walk with you. Let me just finish this game." He said, smiling lightly and giving you a kiss which you returned.

Go-to support.

It was about 2 months into lockdown and your work had been piling up. You was stressed and so not motivated to do anything, even getting up out of bed was hard.

This day was particularly a struggle. You had to finish a presentation and only had today to do it, so you panicked and speeded it, finishing it as quick as ou could without caring about the outcome and just sending it off.

You sat at the kitchen table with your face in your hands, thinking about all the possibilities, will you lose your job? Will you get demoted? You just couldn't stop your mind from wandering.

"Are you okay babe?" You heard Masons voice from behind you and felt a hand on your back soothing you.

You couldn't hold it in anymore and broke down, whimpering and wiping your eyes.

"Mason I need a break from work, its so stressful and I think with the work I just did I'm going to lose my job and im just not motivated to do anything and I-" you rambled on, until he cut you off.

"Hey, hey calm down," He crouched down and placed his hand on the side of your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. "Don't beat yourself up about it. It's happening to everyone now, im sure if we ask your work to give you some time for your mental health im sure they would let you." he smiled reassuringly.

"We?" You sniffed.

"Yeah, we. We're gonna get through this together. Now, it's always we." He stood up and hugged you tight.

Love and a movie night.

It's been about a 5 months now, and you and Mason had been going strong.

Mason insisted that you watch a movie tonight, sit down with some popcorn and snuggle up together. Of course you said yes.

About halfway in the movie, a conversation popped up about 'what would you do if you was a worm?' and you couldn't stop laughing, at both of your responses.

"Yeah, but I would definitely still love you if you was a worm." He joked, laughing with you.

You stopped almost instantly, looking over at him.

"What?" He looked over, confused.

"Did you just say that you love me?" You questioned, sitting up.

"You didn't hear? I love you." He smiled, chuckling.

you gasped, putting your hands over your mouth. He reached out and grabbed your face.

"I love you." He repeated, just for you to realise what he did, so you could know that it was real, to process the words.

"I love you." You stated, grinning from ear to ear.

#chelsea #chelsea football club #england squad #football #footballer #mase mount #champions league #chelsea fc #england #footballers #mason mount x og #mason mount x reader #mm21 #mason mount imagine #mason mount #euros 21 #euro 21 #euros 2020 #uefa euro 2020

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years ago

Text

heavy cross to bear* matt Murdock x reader

+++++++++ Request @juniebugg: reader and Matt are in a very serious relationship (could be married) but then when reader actually sees Elektra, whom she already knew about but has never seen because she was "dead," she gets really insecure and tells matt that he deserves better or something and he reassures her. Angst and smut"

hopefully its not too ooc this is my first MM smut so i hope you like! and thanks again for the request!!

* - you asked for smut and that really is all this is lol, little bit of story.

Song: wasted time by skid row

tag list: @cynic-spirit @juniebugg

+++++++++

i sat at the table sipping coffee and thinking. it was almost nine at night and i knew i should be getting ready for bed but my body wasn't quite ready to move yet. when matt disappeared into our bedroom i figured he'd be changing into daredevil for the millionth time but when he emerged in his pajamas i was a little surprised. and then it hit me. maybe he knew. hell, he always knew.

but maybe it was just that something was off, that i needed him to say it again, to stay with me and make sure i knew. but then there was her. she had showed up out of nowhere and took me off guard more than anything else up until now. one more doubt at the forefront of my mind. that i didnt believe him when he said he loved me despite being married for a year, despite having dated for three before hand, and despite everything he has done to keep me safe. because he loved her first and it felt like the biggest lie ive ever been told. even after a couple days of sitting on it and hoping it would go away. still it was there. in the back of my mind:

"matt i dont know if i can do this anymore."

his head tilted to the side and he looked confused.

"do what?"

he asked almost worried, moving slowly to the table and sitting.

"this, us. i just- you deserve so much more, so much better than- well, than me."

he was quick to scoot his chair closer to my own, his hand coming to rest on mine.

"hey, dont even say that. what would make you think i would want anyone but you?"

now he absolutely sounded worried.

"i saw her matt."

"saw who?"

i shook my head.

"that woman, your ex. you said she was gone."

"elektra?"

he sounded a little broken.

"shes something else ill give her that much. i see why you like her."

he swallowed hard.

"elektra is dead."

i shook my head.

"then why was she here? looking for you. saying your name with such... god i dont even know how to explain it. matthew."

i repeated it exactly as she had said it and it felt wrong. like i was acting. saying someone elses emotions and intentions. they were no longer mine. or at least it seemed like it. There was a long silence and I just stared at him.

"She was here?"

There was hope in his voice and I figured that was it. It made me angrier than it probably should've and my only response was to stand and walk away. I got half way across the living room before he caught my arm.

"Y/n, that doesn't matter. I-"

He swallowed hard and I tried to study his face.

"You mean more to me than anything. Yes I love, loved, her but I married you. I chose you. I want nothing more than to be with you. For better or for worse remember?"

He bargained and I sighed heavily.

"How can I be sure you mean that? What if she comes back? again."

He shook his head, taking both my hands in his and stepping closer to me.

"Let me prove it to you. If she really is back then it doesn't matter. I'm with you, I love you, and I'll always chose you."

I closed my eyes, feeling him get closer and closer until his forehead was against my own.

"We belong together."

He whispered before kissing me gently.

"I only want you."

He kept just as quiet, kissing next to my mouth once, then twice, making his way across my cheek and to my jaw.

"Matt."

I breathed out and he paused. I licked my lips lightly before opening my eyes and looking at him. He really did seem like he meant it. He was trying so hard to keep it together.

"I can't lose you."

He sounded so broken.

"Do it."

He drew his brows and I brought my hand up to touch his face gently. We were still so close I could feel his breath fanning my neck.

"Show me you mean it."

I said softly and his Expression changed.

"I love you so much."

He said before kissing me harshly, releasing my hands and pressing his fingertips into my hips. I hummed against him as he walked us backwards. We stumbled along as he pulled my shirt up, tossing it to the floor.

"Matt."

I moaned, pulling his shirt up next. It was gone in a second and he was back, kissing me and moving quickly to get my pants down. His hands roamed my body just as much as mine roamed his. I traced my fingers slowly up his torso, grazing over his scars before wrapping my arms around his neck. I gasped when he picked me up. There was a soft laugh that escaped him and I was relieved to see him smile even if it was just a second. He knew it would take some convincing and he was right. I needed to know he meant it. That Elektra wasn't gonna be a problem.

"I need you."

He whispered again, laying me gently on the bed and situating himself between my legs.

"I need you to know how much I mean it."

He kissed my jaw slowly, then down my neck and across my collar bone.

"Prove it."

I challenged, my breath hitching in my throat as he ripped my bra open from the front, his lips grazing my nipple before taking it into his mouth. He hummed against me, his finger tips down my torso and into my panties.

"Matt."

I moaned, dropping my head back as he ran his finger up me and against my clit. i closed my eyes, pushing my head back into the bed as he stroked me, kissing his way back up to my exposed neck.

"i love you."

he repeated against the heat of my skin. when he resituated i could feel how hard he was already.

"i need you."

i breathed out, pressing my hips up into him as he continued to finger me.

"matt."

i whined, him removing his hand long enough to pull my panties down. i looked up to him with lust blown eyes, watching him intently as he got rid of his boxers.

"youre still okay with this?"

he asked and i nodded quickly, pulling his face to mine and kissing him deeply.

"please."

i moaned, inhaling deeply before he kissed me again, pushing his hips into mine. my breath caught in my throat as he pushed all the way into me, catching my bottom lip between his teeth as my mouth hung open.

"i wanna hear you."

he said softly.

"feel you."

he moaned against my shoulder, dropping his head to the crook of my neck as he placed his large palm over my heart. it was already banging at my rib cage begging to be let out but i could have swore it did when he started moving. he pulled out of me slowly before slamming back into me and i moaned so loudly i was surprised at myself. and then he did it again and again, getting a good rhythm. it was long, and hard. nothing like our nights prior, even on his worst of days when he's frustrated and in need of release. no this was different. purposeful.

"matt."

i held onto him for dear life, pressing my fingertips into his shoulder blades as he continued to pound into me in long drawn out strokes.

"tell me. tell me what you want."

he grunted out, trying to sound as steady as possible.

"i want you. god i only want you!"

i cried out as he thrusted upward harshly. then he did it again and i saw stars, my mouth falling open as i moaned.

"thats my girl."

he praised, trailing his hand down my torso and pressing his finger in circles against my clit.

"youre almost there."

he coaxed, building me up. i could feel the tightness building, pressing my hips up to meet him as he kept his pace.

"im so close."

i panted, pressing my finger tips harder into his bicep as i gripped onto him.

"do it, do it for me, let go."

he said softly and i snapped. my orgasm racked through my body and my vision went blurry. i was breathing hard as he rode out my high, still chasing his own.

"im almost there."

he said, squeezing his eyes shut. he moved to pull out but i wrapped my legs tightly around his waist.

"y/n?"

he asked surprised and i leaned up to kiss him.

"just do it."

i said, pressing a hard kiss to his neck. he kept going, knuckles going white against the bedsheets as he came in me with a loud groan.

"oh my god."

he panted, slowing his thrusts.

"i love you oh my god."

he said, dropping to his forearms, trying not to put his full weight on top of me. my legs were still wrapped tightly around his torso as we both calmed down.

"i love you too matty."

i said softly, feeling him nuzzle his nose against my neck. it made me giggle a little bit and i could feel him smiling against my skin before kissing it gently.

"you have no idea how relieved i am to hear that. youre the only one for me. always will be."

i sighed softly in content, kissing his forehead and dropping my legs.

"im sorry i doubted you. i just. i need a reminder every once in a while i guess."

he kissed my chest before pulling out of me and dropping to the bed beside me.

"i will give you as many reminders as you need, as long as we both shall live."

he said, taking my hand in his and kissing the back of it.

"thank you matt. thank you for everything. especially knocking some sense into me."

he raised a brow, a half smirk on his face and i immediately wondered what was going through that mind of his.

"after tonight sense might not be the only thing i knocked into you."

i couldnt help but laugh, him matching it as i rolled onto his chest.

"i know you want nothing more than to tell the father we're finally starting that catholic family with lots and lots of beautiful babies but i still have my iud."

he let out a short laugh sigh before i kissed him quickly.

"but that doesnt mean i couldnt be persuaded into getting it taken out."

he raised an intrigued brow.

"oh?"

i laughed lightly.

"ill think about it. right now i just wanna live in this moment with you."

i said the last bit through a yawn, resting my head against his chest and hearing his heartbeat.

"i love you."

he whispered, earning a hum from me as i dozed off.

#wattpad #x reader #337 #matt murdock #smut #daredevil #marvel #imagines #one shots #requests

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miryum · 3 years ago

Text

Nickels (Spot Conlon x Reader)- Part 2

"Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we're talking to newsies all around the city." Davey explained to Spot. They were trying to convince Spot to join the strike. Without him, they knew none of the other newsies would join.

"Whos else 'ave yous talked too?" Spot asked atop his throne.

"Queens, Staten Island, everyone in 'hatten-"

"Whats yous gonna do about Nickels?" Spot asked.

Jack scoffed, "We's are gonna go after 'ere."

Spot's face slowly grew into a large smirk, "Yous scared of Nickels and da Bronx!" He started laughing, the other Brooklyn newsies joining in.

"We's not scared!" Jack said, his voice getting louder, "We's just dink it'd be easier to convince Nickels wit yous dere (there). Didn't yous do someting for 'im once?"

Spot grew quiet, and Jack could see him biting the inside of his cheek. Spot was very obviously lost in thought. "Yeahs." Spot nodded slowly. "I'se not sayin' I'm joinin', but I'll go talks to Nickels. Yous gots a better chance wit me dere. Plus, I'se wanna see 'ow 'e's doin'." Spot added in a murmur.

Davey cocked an eyebrow. What did Spot do for Nickels?

"Yeahs!" Jack cheered, "Tanks Spot." Spot climbed down from his throne and the two of them spit-shook.

Davey grimaced. Spit was disgusting.

"We better get going." Davey interrupted, "It'll take a long time to get to the Bronx."

Spot nodded. He gave some orders to his newsies, twirled his pimp cane, and said, "Let's go."

***

The three newsies crossed the 3rd Avenue bridge, and as soon as they did, they noticed a shadowy figure, leaning against a building.

"Wells, wells, wells," Nickels' hat was drawn low over his eyes. Strands of hair fell from it. "If it ain't Jack Kelly and da King a Brooklyn 'imself." Nickel pushed off the wall and mockingly bowed low.

"Nickels." Spot spit on his hand and reached it out to Nickels. Nickels spit-shook back.

"'Ello." Jack nodded. Nickels just raised an eyebrow.

His gaze then turned to Davey, "Whos the newbie, Jackie? 'Elpin' wit da strike?"

"I'm Davey." Davey held out a hand to shake and Nickels went to spit on his own hand before Jack interrupted, "'E don't like dat."

Nickels looked Davey up and down, disapprovingly, "Well, dat's 'ow dings are done on da streets. Yous gonna hafta learn dem ifs yous wanna survive. Trust me, I'se know."

"But yous heard about da strike?" Jack tried to turn the subject back.

"Yeahs. Whos hasn't? But yous ain't gettin' to Emerson. I'ma make sure of dat."

"We have to see Emerson." Davey said, "We're going to try and get all the New York newsies together to protest the price raise. Aren't you against it?"

"Oh, yeahs." Nickels said, "I'ma against the price raise."

Jack and Davey paused before Davey spoke up again, "Then will you let us through?" He asked hopefully.

Nickels pretended to think about it, "Nah." He said, "I'm not gonna let anyone nears Emerson."

Spot scoffed and rolled his eyes, "This ain't going anywheres! Nickels, come 'ere!"

Nickels pov

Spot scoffed and rolled his eyes, "This ain't going anywheres!" He exclaimed, "Nickels, come 'ere!"

Spot dragged me to the other end of the building, far away from Jack and Davey and any other prying eyes.

"Okays, cut da crap, Y/n," Spot said, pushing my newsies cap off my head, letting my h/l hair tumble down my shoulders, "Whys won't yous let us through ta Emerson?!"

"What the hell, Spot?!" I whisper-shout, bending down to pick up my cap and shoving my hair back up in it, "Dey could've seen!"

"Oh, who cares?" Spot mocked, "Now why won't yous let us through?!" His voice was getting more aggressive.

"He owes me!" I practically shout. I caught myself and brought it down to a whisper, "He knows, Spot, he knows!"

His face blanched, "How?"

"Nots a big deal." I shook my head, "Buts I'se not lettin' yous through. Even if I'se hafta soak ya."

Spot rolled his eyes, "Like yous could soak me."

I rasied my eyebrows, "We's both know I could, Spot."

"Whatever." We stood in silence for a bit, arms crossed, staring the other down, before Spot spoke up, "I'se make yous a deal. How abouts, yous lets us through, and I don't tells anyone dat's yous a goil... But, if yous don't lets us through, den I'ma make sure all da newsies know."

I scoffed, "Dat ain't a deal! Dat's...dat's blackmail!" My lip curled up, "But I'se makes you a real deal instead."

"Whats?"

"I'se lets yous through in exchange for... your pimp cane." My hand grabbed the end of it.

Spot jerked it away, "No deal... Unless..." He smirked and I see a familiar glint in his eyes, "Yous let's us through, and I'se gives yous da pimp cane, but yous hafta give me a kiss."

My eyes narrowed, "Always a one track mind, Conlon." I said, shaking my head, "Tryin' ta get a goil in bed. How shameful. I'se thought yous mudda taught yous better." I knew it was a low blow, bringing up his mother, but I wanted the last word. I thought over his terms really quickly, "But, one kiss for yours 'ere cane... seems like I'ma gettin' da better end of it."

"Don't be so sure, dollface."

"On one condition," I said, "I'se hafta escort y'all to Emerson."

"Fair enough."

We spit shook and I grabbed Spot's pimp cane out of his belt loop. I smirked as I leaned on it, "Yous gots yourselves a deal."

#spot conlon #spot conlon x reader #spot #newsies #newsboys #1898 new york #1898 #new york #jack kelly #davey #x reader

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all-about-seggs · 4 years ago

Text

Sultry Blues-

Rating: ❌18+, Explicit❌

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Insecure! Fem Reader

Word count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Trigger warning for insecurities (not specified), Body Worshipping, a bit of food play, cunnilingus, Semi-public sex.

The faint sounds of ringing bells from the shrine was still in the air as you made your way to the inner structure of the prestigious Jujutsu academy. The path to the meeting room was straight and lined with stone carvings which gave the entire place an ancient look. You had a lunchtime date with your boyfriend, who would, hopefully be on time so you could be on your way.

This place always made you uneasy, not because of the dangerous connotations it brought in everyone’s lives but it was the people who freaked you out the most. To you, each one of the teachers as well as the students looked like some characters straight from a book, elegant, strong and perfectly capable of doing things normal people like you could only read about. Not having enough confidence on yourself physically or mentally worsened every time it dawned on you that you were dating the most perfect being of them all.

Perplexing wouldn’t even began to describe your state of mind when Satoru first took interest in you, sure looks or status didn’t meant anything to him but even in terms of personality you never thought the two of you would get along, so much so that you would become such an irreplaceable part of each other. But you knew his feelings for you did nothing to stop the ache in your heart when you saw him getting ganged up on by a bunch of women. Women attractive than you, smarter than you and definitely stronger than you.

This was exactly the place where all those kind of women lived making you feel even more of an outsider in his world. Not wanting to cause Satoru any worries you tried to psyche yourself up by picking up your pace only to be met with a hard shoulder to your cheek.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking”, you looked up at the stranger, she was tall, her sturdy figure seemed like she was also a sorcerer but her ID pass was tucked on the breast pocket of her coat along with her youthful face indicated she was a student, you squinted to see that her name was Lisa and as you were about to apologise when you saw her sneer at you.

“ Ugh… outsiders. Don’t you know how to walk properly? Or did you not learn that in your no name school?”, her condescending tone took you aback.

You knew you didn’t exactly belong here but she wasn’t cutting you any slack for being a civilian either. You wanted to ask her why was she being so rude but your queries were cut off as by the girl.

“ No need to explain yourself I already know who you are, I’ve seen you following Gojo- San like a lost puppy a lot of times, seriously it’s like you don’t even have a presence without him.”, with a pause you finally thought her pointless berating would come to a stop but she went on.

“ He has a reputation to uphold here so don’t go around embarrassing him with your airheaded and average looking face”, now with THAT she crossed the line but as much as you wanted to give her a comeback all you anger turned into self loathing in a matter of seconds and you stood there dumbly not being able to defend yourself from the onslaught of verbal attacks that even you partially agreed with.

Not even bothering to look at her when she passed you thought about her mean words that were half untrue. You knew dating a popular guy would include more that just a little bit harmless envy of girls. At this point you’d be lucky if you didn’t get attacked by one of your boyfriend’s fangirl. But, It wasn’t about Satoru anymore, you thought. It was about how you were letting the jealousy of his superficial admirers who didn’t even knew only knew his name and face. Before you could delve more into your darkening thoughts you heard a cheery voice call out to you.

Bag at hand, which probably contained some sort of dessert you saw Satoru gleefully making his way towards you. It took you a few seconds to plaster a believable smile to your face so you could greet him normally.

“ Wow I can’t believe IM the one who had to wait around this time”, placing a tiny kiss on your nose he pulled you in for a hug, his warmth seeping into you put your mind at ease and help you distract yourself from the horrible encounter before.

“ The meeting was pointless and even the snacks turned out to be lame”, whining a little he waved the bag in front of you. A convenient store vanilla sponge cake with a packet of strawberry sauce was right in front of you and honestly if it were you, you’d probably eat it without question but knowing his love for quality sweets it was understandable why he’d complain.

“ Well actually, with the right toppings and modifications even convenient store packed cakes can taste top class!”, thinking about all the ways you’ve experimented watching diy food videos you started thinking up of ways to serve it to him.

“I see, that’s a good idea and I think it’ll give us some headstart for our date wouldn’t it?”, saying that he gestured you towards one of the buildings that lead to the back exit.

Walking hand in hand Satoru came to a stop which seemed like a closed off gate that was not in use anymore.

“ Why are we here? I thought the back exit was the other way around?”, confusion painted over you face you turned to face your mischievous partner.

“ you said you’d help me eat them, and I think it’s a pretty good place, don’t you?”, stepping closer he urged you to take a look around. The area didn’t have any benches, buildings or even people around and the only sound you could hear was the birds and the small artificial streams of river that flowed a few steps away from the closed off exit.

If Satoru was insinuating something you started to get the hang of it and you soon felt you face get hotter. The afternoon sun did nothing to help you cool down as you struggled to make sense of the situation. His hands were all over your body, caressing, pinching and feeling you up.

“ What’s wrong? Not up for it in semi public style?”, his breathy voice got lost in the crook of you neck where he inhaled your scent, “ you know nobody’s gonna come” with a slight push, he pinned you againt the vine-covered gate, “Except for you”.

“what the- WAIT! It’s still so bright out here not to mention we’re in PUBLIC Satoru!”, wide eyed you try to grab at his hand that was halfway done unbuttoning the top of your blouse.

“Do you want me to blindfold you?”, throwing these words nonchalantly he started licking every bit of exposed skin he could find from your ears to chest.

His mouth made contact with your covered breasts and without bothering to remove the piece of clothing he latched his mouth onto your hardened nipple to give it a gentle bite. Holding back your own moans you placed you hands on his broad shoulders, a feeble attempt at stopping him.

“How would THAT resolve anything?!” already half naked, your retorts seemed like pathetic excuses even to your own ears. It wasn’t until you heard a sharp rip that you realised your underwear was no longer on your body anymore. With a horrified look you saw your unusable underwear in Satoru’s hand.

“ I don’t think you’ll be needing these anymore my sweetness because I want to see ALL of you”, dangling the fabric from his long fingers he made a show of tucking it in his pocket. Hiking your skirt up with one hand he caressed the soft flesh with his thumbs.

“I knew you had no sense of danger but this could even get us arrested”, your reasoning seemed to fell on deaf ears as your boyfriend, already half way down on the ground, pulled his blindfold down with ease. Looking at up at you with his ethereal turquoise eyes that lied beneath strips of heavy white eyelashes, this part of his face was something you couldn’t see all the time.

“You’re beautiful……”, the genuine nature of his words felt unreal when compared to his everyday frivolous self, “at least I’ve always thought so”.

All the voices in the place except for his, got drowned out by the throbbing of your heart in your chest when he kneeled right in front of your crotch. The warm smile on his lips contradicted with his tantalizing actions but he enjoyed it precisely because of that.

“Open your legs a bit more y/n, I need more space to eat”, with his haughty smirk back he exposed more of your pussy with his fingers and dribbled the strawberry sauce over it until it started trickling down to the ground underneath it.

“This looks like a good dessert, waaay better than the one I was offered before”, making one last smartass comment he threw the now empty packet away and your sugar coated pussy was soon met with Satoru’s soft, warm tongue as he buries his face in it. His tongue worked it’s way beneath the layer of your pussy hair and down to the soft flabby skin underneath. Your natural slick combined with the dressing sauce tasted even sweeter in his mouth, the pleasant hums falling uncontrollably from his mouth made you wetter.

All the blemishes, scars and your self imposed flaws started melting into something more complete and unbreakable in its nature when you felt Satoru touching you, feeling you and tasting you from the inside and out.

His warm hands firmly gripped your thighs to lap at the soft peak in between. All the sensations his tongue was providing you made your vision turn black and your body heated up to the point of burning. The broad daylight and your exposed form added to the fear of being found out but your trust in your boyfriend outweighed everything so you let him have his way.

“ Hmmm, yeah y/n…”, the exaggeratingly loud slurping of his mouth came to a stop as he looked up at you, his pink lips glistening even more when he spoke, “Even this cheap stuff tastes better when I eat it directly from you”.

You were a panting mess, already having lost the ability to make coherent words you kept you eyes on Satoru as rose to his feet.

“ Let’s move on to the next part shall we?”, after smoothening out your skirt of you he held out his hand and your need for release took over all rhyme and reason so you put one of your shaking hand in his. The next few moments were confusing as a white light enveloped both of your forms and by the time your vision returned you found yourself in an unknown room.

The place itself was nothing out of the ordinary, some books, a cupboard and a vanity. The single bed near the curtained window was properly made. It was clearly not Satoru’s room but the neatness of the place also suggested that it wasn’t an unused room either.

“ Hey we’re are we?”, you question the white haired male when he casually made his way to switch on the lights.

“Don’t worry we’re still in the academy premises, you wanted to finish this right? And I didn’t wanted to go another second with hearing your pretty voice, so you can scream now,” his voice dangerously low, he held your arms in both of his hands and guided you to the single bed in the corner.

“ and I didn’t meant that as a request”, flat on your back you had no time for further questioning as your exposed cunt got filled to the brim in a single thrust. The stretch made you cry out and remembering Satoru’s previous warning you didn’t bother covering your mouth. The light in the room was enough for him to see all of you, even if he had all of you memorized at the back of since the first time.

Your twisted face that you’d consider ugly was nothing if not arousing to him from the kneeling position of his at the edge of the bed, endearing even at how the side of your eyes well up everytime he fucked you so hard, the creaking of the bed acted as a proof of his brutal pace that threatened to break the furniture.

Each powerful thrust of his made your entire body lurch from its position, your juices flowed endlessly down your thighs, on Satoru’s cock and down to the sheets. Your voice ricocheted off the walls and gave life to the entire building.

Having your orgasm cut off before, the anticipation that had build up made your upcoming release feel even ore intense. Your walls started clenching around his shaft, already feeling waves of ecstasy you waited for it to reach its peak.

“ Y/n...Come for me”, in between his grunts he placed on of his hand on the side of your head, lowering himself till your noses touched. Breaths intermingling, you came with a loud cry of his name. Euphoria spreaded through both of your bodies making a gush of liquid come out of your pussy when Satoru pulled out, both of your mess soiled the sheet.

Few minutes of silence passed by as a fully clothed Satoru sat beside you, stroking your head until you calmed down.

“ Hey y/n?”, abruptly his cheeky tone filled the room and you looked up at him questioningly,

“ Wanna take a pic? ya'know, as a momento”, the odd question made you come to an obvious conclusion, which now seemed obvious considering your boyfriend’s not so secret rebellious nature and with how much of a brat he can be it was nothing short of hilarious.

“ It’s Lisa’s room isn’t it?”, barely controlling your laughter you tried to pry an answer out of him, the soothing motion of his hands never coming to a stop he took out his phone with another.

“ Yeah, it is, I’d say it’s an excellent way of showing her our ‘bond’ dontcha think?”, his cringey answer made you burst into laughter. The first real smile he’d seen on your face since you got here was something Satoru wanted to be a constant thing, always there when he wanted to see it just like a still photograph.

Bending his face down his lips softly met your forehead and before you could open your eyes back up you heard the click of the camera go off.

“ Heh, so how is it?”, propping yourself up on your elbows you tried to peak at the screen but it was pulled out of sight just as quickly.

“ It’s perfect”, with a warm smile that reached all the way to his eyes Satoru put his phone down before peering into your eyes, “and it’s mine”.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #my writing

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

Text

Wilfords Demands: Separated

Summary- 5.6k Curtis x You. Curtis lost the tournament and has been cast back to his original home, the tail end. You are now contained in Wilfords precious engine to see the crazy ramblings of Snowpiercers Leader. You also must find out Curtis’s fate and you believe you can find him, if you can just get beyond that door Wilford likes to disappear into. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- Stressful situations, spitting, hitting, demeaning talk, threats, language. You also find out what happened with Curtis’s other children, its dark and upsetting. Proceed reading with caution. Thats as descriptive as Im going to get in that warning.

Chapter 6 / Wilfords Demands Masterlist

As you were dragged away, you could hear the cheers echoing off the steel walls. You could feel the overwhelming sensation of panic settling in your chest. It was all consuming as you started struggling against the man dragging you behind Claude, trying to pummel your fists against his padded chest and scratch at him.

“Let me go! CURTIS!” you screamed, resorting to trying to bite at his hand wrapped around your upper arm. Claude scoffed seeing you give the guard a hard time and snapped over quickly, open palmed, she slapped your face to stun you.

You panic turned to white hot rage at the woman, turning on her but the man tightened his grip, stopping all your movements.

“For once in your miserable fucking life, will you stop it?! Jesus Christ you are not worth the effort Wilford puts in you. You don't even make a good whore.” She spit in your face before turning back to open the door to Wilford’s chambers once more, jerking her head to direct the guard to bring you in. “He will be back soon, make sure she doesn’t do something stupid can you? Just don't hurt her, Wilford will have both our heads if anything happens to the precious prize.”

She sneered out the last words at you, You spat at her with a smug smile when it landed on her face. She screamed in disgust and wiped at her face with her sleeve. “Tail Ender Pig, you are all so disgusting.” continuing to mutter as she left the room, the guard released you, standing at the door and his eyes followed you as you were sure to put distance between the two of you.

Wilford’s area was the same as before. More luxurious than the others, you went towards the engine, the furthest you could get from the guard when he barked out. “That's far enough.”

Flipping him the bird, you moved to sit in a nearby chair, rubbing at your belly protectively.

Right now the anger was the only thing controlling your fear. You had no idea what was going to happen to Jace, was Curtis even still alive. You couldn’t think like that, because you would lose it if Curtis was dead.

He promised you that he would find a way, swore to you.

But promises made were not always kept. You swiped at your face furiously to hide the tears, thinking about Curtis would have to come later, when it actually could sink in. For now Curtis was still alive, he would come for Jace, that was all that mattered.

Time seemed to stretch, tension building when you heard the door shift open. The guard stepped aside and Wilford walked in, followed by Grey who was bloody, limping and spotting several cuts and bruises.

I hope you feel every single one Curtis gave you, you hissed in your mind looking at him before turning away.

“Well look at you sweetheart, told you we would be getting to know each other better.” His hand came to stroke your cheek and you jerked away, making him laugh. “Soon enough you will learn not to pull away.” Grey said while Wilford handed him some towels to clean himself up.

“As promised, she is your prize. You just have to wait till after the birth.”

You shifted in your seat, your hand still protective over your stomach to face Wilford, ignoring Grey for now. “Where is Curtis?”

“Well she isn't going to be much longer till she spits out that spawn for you. I don't mind waiting.” Grey spoke over you, ignoring your question.

“Weeks Grey, not long at all.” Wilford flipped to a calendar, and to your disgust you saw where he had appointments set up with the doctor. Your name, some others, you shuddered at it.

“Is Curtis still alive?” You started again, but both men ignored you once again when you finally gave a scream, willing them to at least acknowledge you.

Wilford blinked at you calmly while Grey scowled at you. “Curtis really didn't teach you any manners did he? Know what we are doing first.”

You hitched your chin, refusing to back away from him in fear.

“Curtis is no longer your concern Y/N.” Wilford started. “You won't be seeing him again.”

Your eyes welled up at these words and your face pinched trying to process these. You can't break down right now. Jace needs you to keep it together.

“Fine, but this child is my concern. I need to know what his future is going to be.”

Wilford broke in a grin at this one, rubbing his hands together. “Of course, you spent all this effort supplying me with Curtis’s child. I have high hopes for this one.”

Fuck you were going to be sick, listening to him. “I want to raise him, he is mine as you said.”

Grey cocked a brow, his arms folding over his chest with a laugh, Wilford joining him. “Ah- no. This child is mine. I already have a name. Trust me, that whole Jace Tyler was cute and all, I heard all about why you wanted that name but no. Joseph Wilford the second will become my successor. Hopefully. Curtis was always my favorite.”

You spared a look at Grey who’s features clouded slightly but then went back to victorious. “Well Curtis is washed out, past his prime now.” He pointed out and Wilford shrugged a bit.

“Happens to all of us. Why I needed Y/N to get pregnant rather quickly, before the tournament. I'm still taking a risk, but such a pretty thing who's a survivor from the tail end. I like Joseph’s chances. So for now Dear, your stuff is being removed from Curtis’s quarters, being moved into Grey’s. For now though you will be staying with me. Grey, how about you go get cleaned up, celebrate your victory.”

Grey gave one final swipe of his towel, smirking. “I think I will just do that.” Cold eyes swept over you, possessive now. “I will see you real soon.” Sure to run his fingers over you again and grasp your chin tightly when you tried to pull away, his touch hurt, bit into you as he dug fingernails into your skin to mark you. “Keep up that act, I like breaking women in.”

Letting you go with a cruel laugh, he left the engine. Wilford seemed oblivious to your distress. “Come Dear, let me show you your cot. You need to rest. Most certainly, can't have you stressing the baby.” He tugged you to a stand, leading you to a corner near the engine humming and pushed you to sit. “See this is pretty good.”

You couldn't help it anymore, everything you had hoped for had shattered in moments. You curled as much as you could away from Wilford rubbing your back and sobbed into your arm, mourning Jace’s father.

Curtis first noticed the pain. It riddled him hotly with every sway of the train's movements. His fingers curled against rough fabric underneath him. When he tried to move pain seared through him everywhere making him grit his teeth and sink back into the hardness beneath him. “Don’t try to move mister, Mama said you needed to stay still.” came a young boy's voice near his ear and Curtis strained his neck to look next to him, nothing but shadows and more darkness filling his vision but then movement caught his attention.

A boy, young by the looks of him but it was hard to tell without proper lighting. Big eyes stared at him though as the boy crawled closer to him. “Where am I kid?” Curtis grunted out as the boy lifted a gelatin block to his mouth and took a bite.

“This the back of the train Mister.” He shoved the block at Curtis, setting it on his chest. “I will go get my Mama. You can have some if you're hungry.” The boy smiled and crawled away, dropping away from sight and scurrying off. Curtis curiously picked up the block and sniffed at it, wrinkling his nose at the smell and set it off to the side. With a groan he tried to sit up again, but gasped again in pain. “Fuck!”

“Fuck is right.” A woman came into view, carrying a lantern with her to light up her way and sat at the edge of the bed. The little boy crawled in on the other side and grabbed at the gelatin block to bite into again, squeezing it a bit in his small hands, humming happily at his food.

“Mama, I thought you said that's a bad word.”

“It is Timmy, but he's allowed to say it. Go on now, shoo. Let me talk to this man.” she waved her hands at him and yet again the little boy, giggling this time climbed upwards into what looked like more bedding above Curtis.

She watched him with a soft smile till the boy was gone, then turned her attention back to Curtis. “That's my baby Timmy and my name is Tonya.”

Curtis frowned a bit at the name, then it clicked. “I remember you…” he grunted and Tonya smiled with a nod.

“I remember you to, but back then you were still a youngin’. Barely 17, still young and hot headed. If you are back here, I’m assuming you're still hot headed?” Tonya chuckled as Curtis tried once more to sit up, and she pushed against his chest to press him back down. “Whoever did this to you did a number on you. Mostly your ribs and possibly your shoulder. You are gonna have to just stay put for a while.”

Curtis worked his shoulders and she was correct, the pain in his collarbone and down his back was enough to make him see sparks. “Yup, I have to agree. And not hot headed… There was a tournament and… Fuck.” This time he surged up to a sit with a yell, holding onto steel grating above him, gasping. “I have to get out of here right away. They took her and I promised to keep her safe, keep our son safe.”

Tonya shook her head confused. “Who? What are you talking about? You should lay back down.”

Curtis stubbornly swung his feet over the edge of the bunk and moved to sit on the edge, looking around. More and more of it was familiar. In the years he had been up front, none of it had changed. Except there was less crowding then before.

“Y/N, she's up at the front and in serious trouble. Fuck.” He swore again and pushed to a stand, bracing his hand against the framework and tried to make sense of where the door was. Tonya was right next to him, following along.

“Wait, Y/N? She's up there still alive?”

“Yes.” Curtis weaved among other people and Tonya tried making him stop. “She was in my care, Wilford… “ He came to a stop at a steel door, looking it over to see any way to open it. “Wanted her to get pregnant with my child. Once he has what he wants, he is just gonna throw her to monsters.” he hissed while pressing his hands against the door.

“You are not getting that door open Curtis.” Tonya wedged her way next to him and made him turn around, being as week as he was at the moment. “You are telling me shes pregnant? Our Y/N is pregnant?” Her eyes glowered at him and he squared his shoulders slightly.

“Yes, due anytime now. I told you, she was brought to me for a reason. It wasnt what either of us wanted but…” He turned back to the door and up towards the ceiling, looking for cameras or anything to get someone's attention. “... It turned into something more. And I need to get to her now.” His gaze turned intense looking at Tonya. Her hands were at her hips accusing but then her gaze softened a bit and she sighed.

“There is no way out Curtis, don't you think we have tried? Its a box, a prison. This is hell on earth and you are now stuck in it with us.”

Curtis could feel his breath quickening and his heart racing.

He had to get out of here, he had to get to you.

Time seemed to turn meaningless while you stayed with Wilford. He had the doctor monitor you daily, check constantly for the moments you went into labor. But you shut down, not talking or acknowledging the others around you unless you were forced into it. Wilford though didn't seem to notice. He talked all the time. Rambled joyfully about everything to do with the engine. Tinkering away at little things in it, tightening screws and bolts. Running inspections. “Dear this whole train keeps us alive. And it needs so much care and love.” He would sing softly as his hands stroked along the metal wall. “Just a gentle touch for our sweetheart here.”

You would curl up your legs onto your cot, or try to, it was hard with your belly. He was fucking crazy the way he spoke to the engine. The constant hum of the engine and the spinning didn't help either, it made your head pound till you felt like you were also going to go a bit mad in the room with him.

The nights though were the worst. The engine would seem louder without Wilford’s constant chatter. You would stretch on your cot across the room from Wilford, who slept in a large plush bed. It was hard, almost impossible to get comfortable and relax. It wasn't because the cot actually bothered you, you spent years either in a hard bunk or leaning against a wall in the tail end.

Instead you were used to sleeping with Curtis. His body would be pressed in against yours, his arm wrapped around you to hold you close and your head would be cushioned on his chest or shoulder, or a hand draped over his stomach. He was warm and safe. That is what you missed. Your hands would rub your belly, sniffling to yourself. You refused to let yourself cry in front of Wilford. But in the night when your only company was the hum of the engine, you let yourself talk to Jace about Curtis.

How much you missed his father, letting yourself mourn for him because it was the times you thought maybe he actually didn't make it. Those thoughts you cursed yourself, because he couldn’t be gone. He hadn't even gotten to meet his son. The nights were the hardest, the only time you didn't have to pretend to not exist and it would become overwhelming. When it became too much you would sing softly to your belly.

Don't take my sunshine away.

The only thing unusual about the engine was the door. Just a door near the spinning blue lights that made the engine come to life that you studied. It was better than going into a trance watching the blue orbs circle slowly. Wilford would once in a while disappear into the room and wouldn't come back out. Just a few times you leaned just right in your cot when he disappeared into the room, catching sight of computer monitors. That had to be how Wilford was watching all of you.

That made you shiver, the idea Wilford watched you and Curtis doing everyday things. You didn't even want to think of what else he spied on. But more importantly if you could get in there, maybe you could find Curtis. Or see if he was still alive.

One morning Wilford was cooking what you guessed was supposed to be breakfast. The smell of onions, potatoes and eggs was making your stomach roll viciously. Curtis had always made sure no eggs made it into the room. Wilford wasn't quite as considerate. You were just coming out of the bathroom, having rinsed your mouth out when the smell hit you all over again. Luckily nothing was left to come up.

“Sweetheart, just think when I have Jr, I will have him ready to take over the engine.” Wilford said cheerfully, sliding eggs onto a plate with a sickening splatter. Your stomach did another roll, and you did your best not to gag. It didn't click with his Jr. spiel, since you never thought of your son as anything other than Jace Tyler. Wilford slid a plate on a small table near your cot for you. “Go ahead eat, I want Jr big and strong like his sire. Make his Poppa proud.” He turned away and you ignored the eggs, recalling his earlier statement.

“Take over the engine?”

Wilford made a show of cracking another egg into a bowl, holding up the shell. “Did you know these would be extinct if it wasn't for me? Something so simple… “ He studied it before tossing it into a nearby garbage bucket. “No more chickens. Or oranges like you have in that glass next to you. Fresh squeezed by the way. No more bread.” He picked up two slices of thick sliced bread. “Nor butter, because cows would be extinct.” He dropped them into a pan to crisp and sizzle. ��Everything Y/N would be extinct, if it wasn't for our Snowpiercer.” he flipped his eggs and slid them onto his plate.

You remained quiet, refusing the eggs, the toast and the juice he had set on the table, watching him.

“But I won't last forever. I can fix this train, but there is no way to replace my body parts. So next best thing. Make the perfect replacement.” He went to his table and sat down. “Why I searched you out for Curtis. Women in the front, been ruined in less then twenty years we have been on this train.” He said disgusted as he started to eat, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth and chewing. The yellow burst of yolk on his lip certainly made you gag this time, covering your mouth while trying to turn away.

“No, I needed someone smart enough to survive but also untouched.” His grin turned cool as his eyes raked over you. “You survived the tail end, were strong enough to survive the lockbox as well as stunning, how you came out of there a virgin I don't know. But it worked out for me. Perfect for Curtis. All his other children before, just weren't perfect enough.” Another forkful of runny eggs and toast. You were struggling trying to wrap your mind around what Wilford was saying.

“W-what happened to the others?” You asked shakily, scared of the answer.

“Ahh, they didn't work out. We tried, sometimes the babies wouldn't shut up, other times they got to a certain age and would struggle with the motor skills. There were a few who got sickly.” Wilford shrugged as he sopped at his plate with his bread and popped that into his mouth. You though, your arms circled around yourself protectively as the horror of what he was saying made your heart race.

“You just- got rid of them?”

“Of course, I can't keep them if they can’t be useful. That's when it clicked. Curtis, he was fine. He's everything I wanted, big, strong, smart. Until you came along, he thought logically. It's a flaw, his falling for you, made him weak. But nothing I can't overlook I suppose. So many other perfect qualities in a leader. It was the woman.” He carried his plate to the sink and approached you. You shrunk back on your cot and he cupped your face in delicate warm hands, hands that never did hard work. “I needed a strong woman to match. All the front end bitches I paired with him threw off weaklings. You Sweetheart are going to give me the perfect prodigy. I considered switching Curtis for Grey for a while, but ahh he is too volatile to throw me a good son. No, it had to be Curtis and You.” He brushed your cheek gently and then grasped your hair to yank you forward towards the plate of food. “Now eat this gift I give you, because I need that baby to come out healthy.”

Claude entered the room, clipboard in hand with a smile. “Sir if you're all set, we are ready for the inspection in the greenhouse.”

“Oh yes Claude, be right there.” He beamed as he pointed at your tray of food with a snap of his fingers. “I want this gone.” Turning he made his way to Claude, the two of them chatting as they left the room, leaving you all alone.

Your heart raced and breathing came out in a rush. With a swipe of your hand, you pushed the plate and glass off the table to shatter against the floor in a mess, screaming in a shrill burst. Overwhelmed with what he informed you, you couldn't hold it all back anymore, your scream just got shriller and tense to bounce all around you from the steel walls. Your voice ended up giving out with a croak and you dropped your heads into your hands sobbing at the fate of your son.

You can't let this happen, just can't. This isn't what you or Curtis wanted for Jace. Your head lifted and eyes were wildly looking around the room, trying to figure something out. Attacking Wilford would do nothing. You could possibly hold him at knife point, but it would only be a matter of time before you were captured again, and it would just be worse for you and Jace if you had managed to kill Wilford. No, it needed to be more permanent. Something that would overthrow the whole train.

Your eyes fell to the door, the door with all the monitors and control panels. You needed to be in that room and that's when a plan started to form.

Although Curtis couldn’t find a way out of the tail end didn’t mean he wasn’t busy. Curtis started to get to know more about the tailenders, those who were ready to fight for there freedom, those with special skills that could be used in a revolt, listen to the stories of the horrors they have had to do to survive. It became more then simply getting back to you, now it was about getting these people out of here as well.

Curtis started timing the guards coming through, trying to figure out how to work the inspections and feeding times to his advantage. After all this time, they should be fairly slack, rituals loose purpose after a while.

But he didnt see his opening. No matter how many times he timed the lengths the doors were open, how long they stayed, how hard the cart full of the blocks were to manuever. It was all so precise, the same everytime and there eyes were watchful, always willing to bash a tailender should they step out of line.

There was just four counts when all the doors were open and Curtis could see down the length of the train. It just wasnt enough time to get through several train cars. Tonya was perched next to him, listening to him count under his breath.

“Curtis, don’t. We’ve tried that. It just ends with them culling us.” She hurriedly whispered back to him. Once they left he turned to her.

“Then what Tonya? Y/N might have had Jace and tossed to Grey. Who even knows what will happen to my son.” Some frustrated tears caught in his lashes and some managed to escape, making a track down his now sooty dirty face. He dropped his head into his hands and Tonya rubbed at his back, trying to be supportive even though she delivered the harsh reality.

“I know Curtis…I’m sorry, I just don’t want you going on a suicide mission. Y/N needs you, so does that little boy you got coming.”

Curtis took a ragged sigh and stared back up at the camera beeping above the door, flipping it off before pushing to a stand and disappearing out of sight to continue trying to figure out a way to get back to you.

You waited, you could be patient. You learned a while ago when you first joined Curtis to watch, it was also the harsh lesson he taught you in the beginning. It was how you got to know him as the man you cared for today. You were quick to learn that Wilford wasn't predictable. He would go into the room at random times. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for a few minutes.

No matter how much you looked around the engine from your perch on your cot, you couldn't see where there were any cameras in the engine room. But you were still wary. Thinking maybe he was trying to catch you doing something, spring out of that room with a gotcha.

But you were smarter. No, you were patient. Storing it all away.

The worst was when Grey would come around. He seemed to turn into Wilford’s pet, always coming in to chat with him or ask favors. Oftentimes he would sit across the table, staring intently at you with a sneer. His eyes roaming you up and down like he had a right to take you whenever. These times you would hitch your chin up and stare back at him. Refusing to give him the satisfaction that he won.

Maybe he did win your body. But you refused outright to give him any satisfaction in that. It didn't matter though, for Grey you were just a prize. You didn't matter to him except what you could give him.

“She must be due soon, right?” Grey drawled out, moving to a stand and approaching you. In your bid to defy him, you didn't move an inch to draw away from him. His hand fisted in your hair, twisting viciously to have you look up at him. “Excited right? I'm sure it gets a bit boring just sitting here on your cot, waiting for time to pass with that little bastard inside of you.”

You work your mouth to draw out some spit, hocking it at him as best you can at the unnatural angle. It earned you a loud smack, whipping your head to the side. Not a word dropped from you in pain as you glared up at him. Grey leaned in closer, his hand wiping at his face and wiping his hand clean in your hair he still had fisted in his other hand.

“Nasty little thing arn’t you? Treat Curtis like this? Or did you just drool all over his cock every chance you get?” His fingers bit into your cheeks as he pressed harshly against the hinge of your jaw, wrenching your mouth open. “Don't worry, soon this will be all you know.” He spat in your open mouth, making you heave and try to pull away from him as he lewdly groped his crotch, laughing at your distress.

“Grey, leave her alone… you will have her soon enough.” Wilford finally interjected, beckoning Grey forward towards the room. “I got something to show you anyways, step in here.”

Grey snickered at you before sauntering over, passing through the door and Wilford followed him in, closing themselves in. You grabbed at some of the bedding, bringing a corner of a blanket to your mouth to try to tear at the fabric. You just needed a little bit.

Your teeth ripped into the cloth and stitches, wrenching at the fabric till you could feel it weakening.

Another pull, another twist and you could feel the fabric starting to give. Your eyes darted back to the door. “Come on…” You whined out and then there was a distinctive rrrriiippp…

Balling the small bit of fabric in your fist, you got up to approach the door. Careful you pressed your ear to it, trying to listen over the engines humming, but it was pointless. The whoosh whoosh whoosh of the spinning mechanisms made you sigh in exasperation. You didn't want to ruin your chance by not being prepared.

Pressing against the wall, you tried to think about what you knew. The door was pressured close to guarantee a seal. Your eyes roving up to the mechanism that worked the door. It also made it close slow. You could wait a good five seconds after they left the room to do what you wanted. You could pretend you were passing by to go to the bathroom, seeing the door was just beyond your main target. Stepping back a few steps, you paused. Eyes on the handle, waiting for them to walk back out, swing the door wide open.

It felt like hours till the handle jiggled and sure enough it swung wide open with both men leaving, laughing about some shared joke between one another. You started counting just like the way your Grandpa showed you when you were a kid playing hide and seek in the apple orchard.

One Mississippi

You stepped forward as if you had been striding from your cot, which neither of you bothered to give a glance. The door clicked into reverse.

Two Mississippi

Your chest clenched seeing the door start to close, the two men were a step away from you now where you could pass between them and the door.

Three Mississippi

In passing, you rolled the ball of fabric in your palm, your hand brushing against the inside of the door jam and nimbly shoved the ball into the hole that would seal the door shut. Continuing on past.

Four Mississippi

You paused at the bathroom door, your hand giving a shiver of anxiety while listening before opening the bathroom door. Please don't latch, please don't latch….

Five Mississippi

The door shut, but there was no distinctive click the door handle locked. You glanced over your shoulder to see it looked sealed. You yanked on the bathroom handle and escaped into the bathroom, covering your mouth as a gasp of relief escaped you, tears brimming your eyes at knowing it worked. Now it was just hoping Wilford left before he found out what you had done. Sinking to the floor, you took several breaths to try to calm your racing heart. Tilting your head back and closing your eyes, your hands pressed against your belly, whispering. “Jace, we are gonna find your daddy and figure it out from there. Right kiddo… we got this. We are going to be okay.”

After giving yourself your pep talk and you weren't feeling like Wilford was going to figure it out and bust through that door, you made your way back out to see Claude had joined Wilford and Grey.

“Well I need to go do my inspections.” Wilford motioned towards to exit, Grey took a glance at you shuffling back to your cot. Coldly he looked you up and down, obviously checking you out.

“Will be seeing you soon Y/N.” You didn't respond, looking away as you lowered down onto your cot. He left and Wilford reached out for a clipboard Claude was holding, scanning over several papers. “What's the numbers on the tailenders?”

“High hundreds. We took a count this morning. Its getting overcrowded once again.”

“Ahh, I know it was getting bad once more. Gonna have to do something about that.” Wilford sighed. “Just need to get creative about it.” You did your best to keep from retaliating. “And how's our special guest there?”

This made you perk, curious as to who he would be talking about. “Oh settling in nicely, like he never left.” Claude retorted as the door opened, and you couldn't stop the flutter of hope. Maybe it was Curtis.. Could be Curtis they were talking about. The door slammed shut and you started to count.

Wilford could stay away anywhere from ten minutes to an hour. As anxiously as you wanted to run to the door and go in the room of cameras, you couldn't do it too soon. Wilford would just rush back in and stop you. All this effort, lost.

So you waited. Counting like before till you were sure it had been a good ten minutes. Easing off the cot, you approached the door and rested your hand to the door handle.

God let this work. You screwed your eyes shut and started to ease back, the door moving just as easily as if it was properly unlocked. Not even a turn of the handle. Slipping inside and pulling out the fabric from the hollow spot in the door, you let it shut you in.

Camera, so many grainy moving pictures, it made your head thump with the intake of information. You started moving from screen to screen, searching faces to try to find Curtis. No matter how many you looked through, searching the garden cars, over to the kitchen crew, entertainment cars full of kronole high individuals, none of them had Curtis. You made your way down the line, cars with animals, people making equipment, prison cars. Still no Curtis. You bit at your lip, your fingertips pressing against screens, like you were crossing off people.

“Come on Curtis, I need you to show yourself.” You passed to the last row, people all from the tail end. You leaned in close, mentally crossing off sections till you stopped at the door. It was a flash of familiarity that brought you back to that screen.

“Jace… I found your daddy.” Your voice broke in relief, seeing him studying the door and camera, scowling up at it. You remember that look, the one that he was frustrated with his situation. You had never been so relieved to see him looking pissed off. “Thank fucking god you are still alive Curtis.” You fell back to sink in an office chair. “Now how do I get you out?”

#wilfords demands #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #tw: children deaths #curtis everett fan fiction #snowpiercer fan fiction #curtis everett au #snowpiercer au #amber writes #sweater writes

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ladydevoir · 3 years ago

Note

If you're taking requests, what if Ruby went to find Blake in vol 3 instead of Adam?

Blake stood on the branch of the tree, gazing out towards the forest. She had heard rumours about how the initiation at Beacon went but being part of it was a much different affair. Flung into a Grimm infested forest, matched with the first person you meet, it seemed far from what she would have thought an ideal way to be partners with someone would be. But Beacon was considered the finest of the four academies, so was there merit to this method? Letting fate decide for you? Blake shook her head, she wasn’t fond of the idea of not being in control of her fate, which is why she was in the tree. Stalking out the best choice to be her partner. She was not going to leave it up to chance, she was going to decide for herself. As she thought of potential partners, a certain girl filtered into her mind, their meeting the day before, during the day, and the evening, and her words that had stuck in her mind since their meeting. “Well thats why we’re here. To make it better.” She smiled to herself, remembering how she once held such a belief, wanting to make things better. The realities of the world, and the harshness of those she had followed, his harshness, had worn her down. Maybe, Blake thought, hopefully, it wont break that girl down as it had her. Refocusing herself, she sifted through the other students in her mind, and she felt like she had a target in mind. Pyrrha. Pyrrha was well known for her skill, everyone else was an unknown. Her mind set, she scanned around in the hopes of finding the red-headed girl, before the ears under her bow twitched, hearing a cry from nearby. “No! Birdy!” As she reactively turned to the source of the noise, something large flew past her, she barely had time to make it out before she felt a strong pull at her back, pulling her from the tree, and her weapon from her back, as whatever flew past soon hit the ground, Blake, having landed and rushed through the bushes, peeking out from cover to see the figure, before hearing a familiar voice. “O-ow, that was rougher than I wanted...wait...whos weapon is this?” Blake let out a sigh of relief, grateful it wasnt a grimm that had disarmed her. Stepping out from the bushes, she stepped towards the figure, holding the ribbon of her weapon in her hand, clearly distracted somewhat by it. She cleared her throat. “I believe that belongs to me?” The girl looked up, her eyes widening as she quickly stood up, stammering out an apology. “Oh brothers im so sorry I didnt mean to take this my landing strategy got cut off by a bird and I was just trying to grab hold of a branch and I guess I grabbed this by mistake and im so sorry and-” Blake quickly put her hand on the girl’s shoulder, giving her a gentle shake. “Hey, its ok, breathe please.” The girl took a deep breath, handing back her weapon as the two stood in silence. “Sooo, I guess that we’re partners now, huh?” Blake blinked as she registered what was said. “Oh, right, I guess we are.” This was definitely not how she has planned for this to go, but there was no turning back now. “Uh, Ruby, wasnt it?” “Yep, and you’re Blake, right? I did get the name right?” Blake nodded in response. “So Blake, uh, do you know which way to go?” Blake took a few steps forward, looking up at the skyline, the position of the sun, and pointed to the left of them. “The center of the forest should be that way, it shouldnt take us too long to get there from here, we just need to be ready for-” As if on que, the bushes all around them started rustling, as the two girls moved back to back, Blake unsheathed her weapon, and the whirring and clanking of gears and parts confirmed for her that Ruby had done the same. Before long they were surrounded by beowolves, all ready to pounce. “Ready to take them down, Partner?” Ruby chirped, Blake couldnt help but smile softly at the girl’s clear enthusiasm. Maybe leaving things to chance wasnt always a bad idea. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- How much things had gone downhill since that day. Blake looked up as the man she had once followed stood before her, tormenting her as the building burned around them, Vale going up in flames, Grimm, White Fang and Atlas mechs causing total chaos everywhere. And here she was, face to face with the man she had run away from. With no one around to help her. In her mind, that dark voice she had learned to suppress rang out. “You knew you couldnt run forever. You knew he would find you. You brought all this to Vale by being here.” She tried to silence the voice, but to no avail. She could barely hear Adam over the voice, as he raised his blade, that voice was all she heard. Until the loud ringing of a rifle round clanging against a blade shattered through the noise in her head. Looking up, she saw Adam, back to her, looking at a figure outside the building. A figure she recognised immediately. Her weapon ringing out as shot after shot was fired at Adam, causing the faunus to move out the way, as the girl was by her side in an instant. “Get away from Blake.” The tone of her voice sent a shiver through Blake as she looked up at Ruby. The usual energetic expression replaced by one of complete seriousness, almost stone-faced, but the eyes, the eyes were filled with fire, and her voice, she had never heard Ruby’s voice sound like that before. Adam merely snickered, readying his blade. “Fine then. I hope you’re watching Blake. I promise you, im going to kill everything you love most. Starting with her.” The two were swift, clashing and constantly moving. Blake looked on in horror, her body frozen as she watched her partner battle the monster she had spent years serving. She tried to scream for Ruby to run, to leave her, but her voice was caught in her throat. She could only watch on, hoping Ruby would be safe. What happened next would forever be burned into Blake’s mind. As Adam made his slash upwards, Ruby had tried to step back, only to hit the wall, unable to fully dodge the attack as the tip of the blade slashed across her face. Her scream would haunt Blake as she watched Ruby fall to her knees, her hands clutching over her left eye, the blood dripping from between her fingers, as Adam stepped closer, raising his blade. Her body finally moving as she dived towards Ruby, grabbing the girl just in time to vanish with her, leaving Adam’s blade embedded in an icy shadow of herself, as she pulled Ruby as fast as she could towards the docks where the others were. Holding Ruby’s right arm over her shoulder with her hand in hers as Ruby held her face with her left, sobbing as she struggled to move with Blake, Blake shakily repeating herself. “Im sorry, im so sorry Ruby, Im sorry, im sorry.” A gentle squeeze in her hand made her focus on Ruby, as she let out a weak murmur between sobs. “Its ok, i-its not your fault, Blake…” --------------------------------------------------------------- OK SO This was meant to be so much longer. Originally I planned to make this into a small Patnerswap Ladybug prompt, showing various scenes from V1-V3 but with Ruby taking Yang's place and how different those scenes would be, but I just kept having more and more ideas so now im taking those other idea's and Im gonna eventually make a bunch of little short fics for them instead. Otherwise you'd never get this prompt finished. But yeah, I hope you enjoy it~

#rwby #ruby rose #blake belladonna #ladybug #partnerswap au

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years ago

Note

Here’s the ask to answer for your next try, lol. If only the people knew what we’re doing..

I don’t know what you’ve been planning with this, but I am scared.

Make me cry, Vaunna. Good luck!

we went for the happy kind of cry last time and it did not work SO here’s the soul-destroying kind of angst :3 good luck everybody

btw this is an AU to my fanon. it is in no way canon, it’s just a thing i thought might make Raven cry so :3 (and honestly im super proud of it so im happy whether or not it succeeds LOL)

a/n: bc a lot of my helsmits have the nickname Hels now, i’ve decided not to shorten their name to Hels when i’m writing them so that’s why Helsknight is continually referred to by his full name. sorry if it’s kinda awkward but it’s the way i wanna write it :)

…

Emerging from the forest, Wels takes in a deep breath of fresh air and sits down on a rock, the Yes Wings Club building in sight. After a nice walk out here with his hels counterpart, he needs to rest his legs for a moment.

“What is this?” asks Helsknight, approaching his counterpart with a thin pink object in his hand.

Wels glances up. “Oh, that’s an allium. It’s a flower.”

Helsknight stares at it for a moment. “What’s it for?”

“It looks pretty.”

“It does look pretty,” agrees Helsknight. “But is it functionally useful?”

Wels thinks for a moment. “It helps bees make honey. And you can give it to someone you like to show that you like them. But really, it’s just pretty.”

“Huh. Back in Helscraft, nothing exists just to be pretty.” After a moment, Helsknight sighs. “If I was in Helscraft, I’d just toss this back on the ground. Useless.”

“You’re not in Helscraft anymore,” Wels responds warmly. “You’re in Hermitcraft. If you like the flower, you should keep it. Useless doesn’t necessarily mean worthless.”

“That’s… That’s true.”

After a moment, Helsknight offers the flower to Wels, who gives a pleasantly confused frown. “What are you doing?”

Helsknight coughs awkwardly. “You, uh… You said you can give flowers to someone you like. I like you. Kind of.”

A wide grin appears on Wels’s face as he accepts the allium from his counterpart. “Aww. I think you’re actually starting to fit into Hermitcraft life.”

“How dare you,” Helsknight deadpans.

Wels laughs. “It’s not so bad. You seem a lot happier now than you were a few weeks ago. Maybe sometime soon, we can go ask Xisuma if you can be properly integrated into Hermitcraft.”

Helsknight stares at him hopefully. “Really? Do you think he’ll say yes?”

“If he sees how much you’ve changed and how valuable a member you can be, I think he might!”

“Wow…” Helsknight gazes down at the ground. “I can’t believe it might actually happen. I might never have to go back to Helscraft again.”

“If I have my way, you’ll stay here forever,” says Wels. “Anyway, you said you wanted to spar, right? It’s getting close to sunset; we’ll have to go home soon.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, let’s do it.”

Wels jumps up from his perch and the two start sparring with their swords. Within a minute, Helsknight sweeps Wels’s legs out from under him, causing him to crash to the ground, losing his weapon. “Hey!” Wels yelps. “That’s cheating!”

Helsknight laughs as he points his sword at Wels. “I believe that’s called a checkmate.”

Wels chuckles back and is about to respond when they both hear a voice scream Wels’s name from the direction of the Yes Wings Club building.

“Impulse?!” gasps Wels. “What is he-?!”

“Get away from Wels!” Impulse yells, charging at Helsknight with a sword. As the helsmit was not expecting an attack, Impulse is able to knock the sword out of Helsknight’s hand with no trouble.

“Impulse, don’t!” Wels yelps, struggling to get up. “He’s good now! He’s not evil anymore!”

But Impulse is already attacking Helsknight, who is unable to properly defend himself without a weapon.

Wels scrambles to his feet. “IMPULSE, STOP! HE’S NOT A THREAT ANYMORE!”

As Helsknight stumbles, Impulse lunges, clearly not thinking straight, clearly just trying to defend Wels from what he perceives to be an attack on his friend.

But he’s going to kill Helsknight. Forever.

So Wels shoves Helsknight out the way of Impulse’s attack. Impulse tries to stop his strike but it’s already too late.

Impulse’s blade pierces the centre of Wels’s chest and goes straight through the other side.

Letting go of his sword in shock and horror, Impulse stumbles backwards.

Helsknight quickly catches Wels as the latter’s knees sag and he lowers his counterpart to the ground, pulling out Impulse’s sword and tossing it away. He tries to stop the bleeding but it’s no use; the wound is too severe.

“Wels, I’m sorry!” Impulse cries. “I’m so sorry!”

Wels grasps weakly at Helsknight’s wrist, causing the latter to lift his torso up onto his lap. “Hels, don’t blame yourself,” Wels whispers. “P-Please. This was m-my choice, okay? Mine.”

“Wels…” Helsknight gazes down at his counterpart with anguished eyes. “Why would you do that for me…?”

“B-Because I like you,” rasps Wels with a weak smile. “Kind of.”

Helsknight squeezes his eyes shut, not trusting himself to speak again.

Finally, he feels Wels’s hand slide off his wrist, and he knows it’s over.

Welsknight was slain by impulseSV

Several seconds go by.

“Wh-Why isn’t he respawning?” Impulse croaks, starting to panic. “Why is his body still here? WHY ISN’T HE RESPAWNING?!”

Helsknight gazes down at Wels’s body with tears in his eyes. “I… Part of me didn’t think it was actually real…”

“WHAT’s real?” demands Impulse, his voice shrill with panic.

“It- It’s called the Hels Curse,” Helsknight explains shakily. “If a helsmit is directly or indirectly responsible for their counterpart’s death, their counterpart won’t respawn. It’s- It’s permadeath. And the curse is extremely specific, so it doesn’t matter that you were the one who killed him. Because you were aiming for me and he pushed me out of the way, I am indirectly responsible for his death.” Helsknight hangs his head and gently touches Wels’s shoulder. “He’s gone. Forever.”

His chest feels so heavy, weighed down by the knowledge that his best friend is dead. Wels loved Helsknight so much that he willingly sacrificed his life for him. That thought alone is enough to make a few tears flow from his eyes.

For the first time in his life, Helsknight is crying.

But after a few seconds, something springs to his mind and he hurriedly wipes his eyes. There IS something he can do. Another mechanism of being a helsmit that he can use here.

“This is your fault!” Impulse screams suddenly, kicking Helsknight away from Wels. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”

“Wait wait wait wait!” yelps Helsknight, frantically backing away from the furious hermit. “I can save him! I can save him!”

Impulse freezes in the process of picking up his sword. “What?”

“There’s a thing called the Altruist Failsafe,” Helsknight explains hurriedly. “Helsmits are created from the energy and lifeforce of their hermit counterparts. That’s why the curse exists: when a helsmit kills a hermit, they absorb the rest of their lifeforce, which is why they don’t respawn. But it also means they can give their lifeforce back to their hermit counterpart.”

Impulse stares at him suspiciously. “Are you saying you, an evil hermit, would sacrifice your life for Wels?”

Helsknights nods earnestly. “Wels took the blow you aimed at me. I was meant to die, not him. He deserves to live, not me. I can’t live in this world without him.”

With that, he moves over to Wels’s body and kneels down by his side. Impulse steps back, watching him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

Helsknight presses his hands to the centre of his chest and closes his eyes. After counting to three, he slowly moves them away from his chest, drawing out a small glowing red heart.

This is Helsknight’s lifeforce and without it, he can feel his strength already draining away.

So he quickly but carefully moves it down to Wels and pushes it into his chest the same way he had drawn it out of his own.

Immediately, Wels’s body starts to glow.

Helsknight rises unsteadily to his feet and staggers a few blocks away. He kneels beside the rock Wels had been sitting on earlier and props himself up against it, gazing up at the stars one last time.

They’re so beautiful.

Impulse, kneeling at Wels’s side, watches him. He watches Helsknight’s chest stop moving. He watches the light leave Helsknight’s eyes.

And at the same moment, Wels’s eyes open and he takes in an involuntary breath.

“Wels!” Impulse gasps. “You’re alive!”

Wels blinks in confusion, his gaze flickering all over as he tries to register where he is. “Wait, what happened? I-I’m supposed to be dead.”

“Helsknight gave his life for you,” explains Impulse quietly. “Some kind of… altruist thing, he said?”

“Oh-!” Wels’s heart freezes as his gaze lands on the limp body of Helsknight, propped up against the rock. Oh no! Nonononononono!”

He scrambles over to Helsknight and lifts his body onto his lap, trying desperately to awaken his counterpart. “Hels! HELS! NO!”

As it becomes increasingly obvious that Helsknight is dead, Wels hugs his body close to him, fighting back tears. “Why, Hels…?” he croaks. “Why would you do that for me…?”

“I’m sorry, Wels,” Impulse whispers, standing a few blocks behind Wels. “But… But you’re alive now. Isn’t that the best outcome?”

It takes Wels a few seconds to register what Impulse just said. “W-What…?! No!”

“A world where you’re dead and your hels counterpart is alive is not a good world, Wels,” says Impulse gently.

“I don’t care!” Wels’s voice cracks halfway through his sentence. “There’s a reason I jumped in front of your sword!”

Impulse, clearly taken aback by how furious Wels seems to be at him, gives a deep frown. “Wels, I don’t think you understand: you were permadead! You weren’t gonna respawn!”

“I KNOW!” Wels roars. “Hels told me about the curse!”

Impulse’s eyes widen in shock as he realises what his friend is trying to say. “Y-You were really okay with permadying for him?”

Wels carefully lowers Helsknight’s body to the ground and stands up to face his friend. “YES because HE would’ve permadied if you’d killed him! You just don’t LISTEN, do you?! I tried to tell you!”

“I-I’m sorry!” Impulse cries. “I saw him attacking you and I thought-!”

“I TRIED TO TELL YOU HE WASN’T A THREAT!” bellows Wels, unleashing all his grief and fury. “I TOLD YOU HE WAS GOOD NOW! AND YOU KILLED HIM ANYWAY!”

“I just wanted to protect y-!”

SLASH.

impulseSV was slain by Welsknight

Wels collapses to his hands and knees, his sword falling to the ground surrounded by Impulse’s items. He’s just killed his friend, but he no longer cares. Impulse will respawn. Helsknight will not.

He can’t believe Helsknight is gone. Not just gone but he sacrificed his life for Wels. He remembers Helsknight telling him about both the Hels Curse and the Altruist Failsafe. Part of him always knew he would die to the Hels Curse, but he never expected both of them to come into play within minutes of each other.

After a moment, he picks up Impulse’s shovel and starts to dig a hole in the ground not far from Helsknight’s body. When this is done, he carefully lifts his counterpart’s body into the hole and gently places Impulse’s sword in Helsknight’s hands, arranged so that the blade lies pointing towards the foot of the grave.

He sits back on his heels and takes a deep breath, letting tears fall from his eyes.

“Whenever death may surprise us, let it be welcome if our battle cry has reached even one receptive ear and another hand reaches out to take up our arms,” he says hoarsely, reciting an old soldiers’ prayer that he had learned during his service.

With that, he methodically fills in the hole and sticks his sword in the ground above its head as a makeshift gravestone. And as a final touch, he plants an allium over the site. The allium that Helsknight had given him just half an hour ago. When everything in the world was good and the future felt bright.

As Wels turns to leave, he spots an iron sword lying on the ground a little way off. He realises with a jerk that it’s Helsknight’s sword, lying where its owner had dropped it when he had been attacked by Impulse.

He picks it up and inspects the blade. A memory of Helsknight crafting this sword resurfaces and what he was talking about as he did.

If our battle cry has reached even one receptive ear.

He recalls the way Helsknight spoke about Helscraft back then, how it’s a horrible place because the universe gave the best worlds to Hermitcraft and abandoned Helscraft to fend for itself. How passionately he spoke about wanting to create a better life for his Hels siblings.

And another hand reaches out to take up our arms.

His hand closes around the hilt of the sword and he lifts it aloft, closing his eyes against the rain that has started to fall from the darkening sky, as if the server itself is weeping for Wels’s loss.

“I’ll fight in your name, Hels,” he vows. “I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain.”

#hermitcraft #welsknight #helsknight #impulsesv #vaunna’s requests

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keilemlucent · 4 years ago

Text

lavender latte: vi

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 7 ||

masterlist

word count: 6.8k

finally. god.

warnings: none really! reader’s foot booted, but that’s about it.

---

well. here we are. thank u to everyone for reading this sweet, sweet story. we’re not through it yet, but i’m happy to offer a meal with this chapter. enjoy lovies. beta’ed by the lovely love @keiqos.

||||||||||||||||

You had several problems after returning to your apartment from the hospital. One of your coworkers was nice enough to drive you and your things back, but quickly the niceties stopped and your vague hell began.

Exclusively being on crutches sucked. Navigating your apartment and trying to live somewhat normally was a massive pain. Even just showering was a task that sapped most of your energy. Standing one-legged and balancing made your body ache with a deep soreness, especially the first few days you returned.

This was not even to mention the unpleasant dreams you were having.

‘Unpleasant’ & ‘dreams’ were a nice way of putting it.

You could recall that during your first night in the hospital, one of your doctors told you of the possibility of experiencing a few post-traumatic symptoms. Considering how out of it you were at the time, it was unsurprising how you brushed it off.

The reality was much harder to ignore.

...

Cars revving.

Shouting.

Shattering—

Your eyes flashed open, chest heaving and brow covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Fuck that.

It was the same dream, an obvious recreation of the stimuli of the event. Though it was scattered in your memory, the dreams made it horribly vivid and vibrant despite lacking detail. The sounds and smells of that day clung to you as you shook your head, forcing yourself into wakefulness.

Your comforter was thrown from your body, and you shivered as cold air rushed over you. As jarred as you were, you still swung your legs off the bed, readjusting your boot and your aching leg, half-heartedly glaring at your crutches.

Your apartment wasn’t terribly set up to get around with your limited mobility, but your difficulty functioning didn’t help your overall mental state. Everything was just harder with the boot on, and you did your best to work with it.

Being locked up in your apartment added to the hellishness of it. You were so used to the stimuli and social environment of the teashop, it felt like a cold water shock when you were confined to your home entirely alone except for your cats.

You could, of course, try and venture out into the world. But, it was still winter and the ice-covered sidewalks didn’t seem like the best place to try and crutch around.

Within the first day or two, you resigned yourself to your three-week fate of being holed up.

You had a laundry list of things you could do. Shows and movies to watch, places in your house to clean, your cats to pet, but—

You still had far too much time on your hands.

A lot of your newfound time in the first few days was spent on your back, leg propped up, and draped in ice bags, musing over Hawks.

Hawks.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t avoid it, couldn’t stop it. Just thinking about him made every part of you swirl and thrum like you were listening to some sort of contently-chorded song and you were more than happy to play it on repeat until your ears bled. Maybe that feeling towards Hawks had always been there (it had), but now you accepted it and stopped holding yourself back as much.

You never thought the idea of someone squeezing your shoulder would send you into literal fits of giggles and butterflies, but boy, did it. Not to mention all of the careful touches and gentle words you two had shared in the aftermath of the attack, though the memories were hazy. What you did remember and cherish was the warmth of him, quirk activated or not. Each time you recalled it, your gut fluttered and your hands twitched.

Your ceiling was the most interesting place to look in your apartment. The plain texture was the perfect canvas to allow your memories of the sweet interactions the two of you had shared to play like comforting reruns. The commercial breaks of these daydreams were the texts exchanged between you and Hawks.

Keigo couldn’t stop thinking about you either.

It wasn’t as distracting as it once was, as he had been more liberal with letting himself text you. The high number of messages between the two of you was maybe ridiculous, but he was a fast texter and you seemed to have plenty of jokes and banter for him to share in.

As good as the texting was, it was also nice to check-in on you and your recovery. You seemed more annoyed than anything else, but Keigo wasn’t so much of an idiot as to think you weren’t in any pain or struggling at all. Though you didn’t explicitly tell him or show him, he was familiar with the pains of healing and could infer some things about your state.

Keigo tried to brighten your day as he could. ‘Hawks’ still had plenty of hero work to do, especially with the information extracted from the recently detained syndicate members. Despite this, he took as much time as he could to stop and send you little snippets and messages which hopefully would help you smile a little.

It did, of course. Just talking to Hawks did.

You had moments of awareness a few times a day where you had to remind yourself that, yes, (Y/N), you were just casual friends and deeply enamored with the number two hero and that sentiment was at least partially returned.

You had a lot of time to wonder to what extent the feelings were returned. They obviously weren’t entirely one-sided, right?

It was completely possible that they were, but you did your best to shake off the thought.

It was more likely that notorious bachelor and flirt, pro hero Hawks, just wanted a fuck with some feelings. To fuck with some feelings, right?

Though, he did say that he cares about you.

But, you definitely can care about someone you only want to fuck.

You wished you had some sort of definitive answer. The murkiness of it all just made the sweetness of the past and the texts of the present seem a bit sour.

Confessing to Hawks was daunting and terrifying. Not to mention, it felt a bit juvenile, all of it. People weren’t supposed to get melty crushes like this past high school, right? Especially not ones this deep on someone who couldn’t possibly feel the same as you, right?

During one of these moments of uncomfortable clarity, your phone beeped as you rested on the couch. Despite not even seeing the message, you knew it would be Hawks.

You grabbed your phone, clicking open the newest message.

[birdboy]: hey hey angel

[birdboy]: look at this fucker i found

The image attached was a photo of Hawks standing next to one of his own billboards, advertising some sort of sports drink. The photo had obviously been taken with a timer, the angle of the photo tilted as Hawks and the billboard were quite small in the frame. It added to the charm of the photo, the way Hawks was holding a feather blade to the throat of his own advert. You could even tell through the pixels he was wearing a wide smile as he did so, wings spread behind him

You snorted.

You and Hawks are just friends, you reminded yourself.

[you]: looks like a punk bitch 2 me dude

[you]: kinda uncanny resemblance tho

[birdboy]: i agree

[birdboy]: he’s hot tho

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you readjusted on the couch. You weren’t disagreeing, not at all.

[you]: not wrong

[you]: still, punk bitch

[birdboy]: :^(

[birdboy]: feelings = hurt

[birdboy]: please tell me the photo is funny

[birdboy]: it took like five tries

[you]: very funny, im gonna save it and sell when im short on cash

[birdboy]: my publicist will blacklist u

[you]: i’d like to see them try

[birdboy]: is that a challenge angel????

[you]: a promise

There was a break in the messages, though Hawks appeared to be typing.

[birdboy]: unrelated but

[birdboy]: how are you doing?

You paused, taking stock of your disheveled, sleepy self. You were only a few days out of the hospital and you definitely could’ve been worse off.

[you]: im okay!!!

[you]: sore and tired honestly

[birdboy]: :^(

[birdboy]: i'm glad to hear its not worse at least

[birdboy]: ill send u lots more embarrassing photos

[birdboy]: a million angel

[you]: my hero <3

It all was surreal and mentally impossible to avoid.

You really, really liked Hawks and had for a long while.

...

Keigo spent most of the rest of the day busy with patrols and work for the Commission, much to his chagrin. He hardly got a chance to text you. It reminded him of his reality as a pro, his fast-paced nature and how he truly couldn’t slow down, not at that point anyway. He had a brand and habitual way of being that was standard. Even for you, he wasn’t sure if he could slow down, even if he wanted to or needed to.

The idea scared him, pieces of his reality.

But, at the same time, Keigo hadn’t ever felt like this before. The weird, but incredibly alluring and comfortable heat in his chest made him feel like he’d do anything for you. Fuck, he’d fly to the stars and move them if he could, if that’s what it took.

Maybe he even wanted to.

Keigo couldn’t become a different person, for anyone, that’s not how things worked. But if getting closer to you meant... adjusting, he could do that. Easily. He was adaptable as all hell and he’d be glad to use it for something that made him feel good instead of hollow.

Keigo busily flew the day away. As the afternoon turned to night, the sky going pink and purple with dusk, he settled on top of a taller office building. It looked down on a street market, its smells and sounds wafting up to him on his perch.

It gave him an idea.

A good one.

You were inspecting your fridge with a grimace. Balancing on your crutches and being counter-weighed by the boot on your foot made your angry stance a whole lot less intimidating, but it was the sentiment that counted.

Several days post-hospital had done a number on your food supply. The fridge was empty except for a few nearly expired items and condiments. The dry shelves weren’t looking much better.

The shrill sound of your ringtone from the couch made your jump, nearly falling. You teetered back over to it, eye-widening at the caller ID.

[birdboy] calling...

Hawks had never called you before.

You quickly picked up the call, “...Hello?”

“Hey, angel!” Hawks was chipper on the other line. “What’re you up to?”

“Currently?” You hummed, turning forlornly to your kitchen. “Thinking about how I either need to order groceries or order dinner before committing to my couch for the rest of the night. Why? You don’t usually call.”

“I don’t,” Hawks’s smile was apparent in his voice, even through the receiver. “But, I had an idea.”

“Shoot.”

“I might just be near a super good takeout spot. How hard would it be for me to convince you to let me drop some food by your place? My treat.”

You didn’t reply for a second.

Stunned.

“Are you sure?”

“More than, dove. I’m off the rest of the night, anyways.”

Oh.

That gave you an idea—

An idea that would surely push the envelope of your feelings.

Let it.

“Okay, I’m in. One condition.” You bit your lip, willing your stomach to seize fluttering.

“You name it. This place is really good and—”

“I have been going a little stir crazy, and,” You cut him off, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation, “how hard would it be to convince you to come over and stay awhile?”

Hawks was silent.

Your stomach dropped.

“Wait, I-I mean—” You stuttered, trying to gather yourself, but this time Hawks cut you off.

“Like, to hang out?” Hawks sounded shocked on the other line.

“Yes.”

You kept your breathing even and prayed it didn’t read over the call.

“God, dove. I’d love to. I can be over in like ten—”

“Wait,” You fisted the fabric of your sweats. “Can I have a little more time? For myself and my apartment.”

Hawks chuckled on the other end of the line, “Sure, angel. Thirty sound better?”

You let out a sigh of relief, falling on to the back of your couch, “Sounds perfect.”

Keigo decided to tease a bit, his heart pounding in his chest almost painfully. He knew from day one that you were bold, but this was a treat. He had to spare back, just a little.

“Though, dove, I’m sure you look more than perfect yourself. You always do.” He didn’t wait for your response, either out of fear of what you’d say or being a bit smug, he wasn’t sure.

Keigo hung up the call, burying his face in his gloves to try and stifle the blush on his cheeks, though it hardly helped.

It didn’t have to.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Thirty minutes later and you were mostly sorted.

You managed to throw yourself into the shower, tossing on something half-way decent, but still comfortable. Had to keep it casual.

Crutching around your apartment, you picked up what clutter you could, mind spinning. Hawks coming over to your fucking apartment filled you with elated, and yet terrifying, anxiety. A few times while cleaning, you legitimately paused to muffle quiet screams in your hand at the prospect.

You felt like you were going to burst.

Keigo did too, notably.

He took the time to fly all the way back to his apartment, take the world’s fastest shower, and throw on some clothes other than his costume. Going back to get food, his hands shook as he handed the bills to the starry-eyed vendor who he’d just written an autograph for.

You’d sent a quick text just before he’d left with a description of your balcony, so neither of you would have to figure out how to let him in through the roof.

As he flew to your place, Keigo felt like he was going to implode.

He didn’t ‘hang out’ with people. Nope, far too busy for anything like that. He was a compulsory workaholic, it was part of his mental brand of being (or, mental ‘branding’, maybe). The closest he got to casual time with folks was the preamble before a hookup or the time he had spent at the tea shop with you. Actually going to spend time with someone, casually, and it was you? It was all new and terrifying.

But, above all? Exciting.

The whole situation opened many doors, all of which Keigo pictured and picked apart as he neared your apartment. There were so many potential situations to appraise and plan for, he felt overwhelmed by it all.

The opportunity to spend some... time with you outside of the tea shop was a necessity, right? Keigo’s original idea had been to drop off some food and banter for a while, but the idea of spending one of his precious nights off with you was so much better than he could’ve expected.

Not to mention the warm bit of validation sparked by the fact that you asked him to come over, you wanted him around —

It felt nice.

So nice.

You paused, hearing telltale scuffing of someone on your balcony.

Oh my god.

He’s here.

Hawks is here.

You gulped, shaking your head.

Don’t you dare chicken out now. Commit, dammit. You’re just... hanging out. With your friend.

Yeah.

A knock on the glass pulled you to the door of your balcony, hobbling to slide it open on your crutches.

Hawks was happy to push the door the rest of the way open, stepping inside with a bag of takeout slung on his arm.

Your mouth parched, seeing him once again in civilian clothing. Was it... normal to get turned on by the fact that he looked normal?

As Hawks stepped into your humble apartment, wings tucked tightly to his back, you drank him in, hair ruffled with his clear visor placed on top of his head to push back the windswept front pieces. He wore a white sweater and black trousers complete with heavy black boots that were quickly untied and left by the door.

“You’re staring, you know,” Hawks interrupted your thoughts as you straightened up on your crutches.

Recover.

“Can’t prove that,” You tutted, crutching away from the door. “Also, welcome. Watch out for my cats, they might try to get a mouthful of your feathers.”

“Duly noted,” Hawks clicked his tongue, standing up and following you as you meander to the kitchen.

Keigo had to admit that your apartment was relatively... cute. He was used to his own, seldom-used digs. He had a big, uncomfortably nice penthouse with too many disused rooms and too much open space. Fixtures and furniture that were too expensive, probably, but it had been far easier to hire some big-name interior designer and not bother with dealing with it himself. Keigo had trouble keeping many ‘personal’ possessions, anyways. His training with the Commission made him almost revile the thought of keeping unnecessary, material objects, sans a few.

Your home was the exact opposite.

Maybe it was that he didn’t know how to have a personal touch that it made your cozy little apartment feel so full of them.

Little photos and artworks on walls or in frames caught Keigo’s eyes as he followed you to the kitchen. He took note of several blankets on the couch, catching sight of the plushie he’d given you at the hospital. Even the lighting of the apartment was personal, diffuse. With how easily overstimulated you became, it made sense that you’d keep your apartment so ambiently dim.

“So, first off, thank you for coming by and delivering dinner. I am eternally grateful,” You bowed dramatically, leaning to flail out a crutch at the motion. “Second, as payment, I’ll make you a drink. Maybe not with my quirk, but I have some of my old tea blends here.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Keigo shrugged, setting the takeout down on the counter while his ever-present grin nearly hurt his face from how relentless it was. “And tea? Show me what you’ve got. Or, should I trust you to pick one out for me?”

You hummed, clicking your tongue before moving across the kitchen to a different set of cabinets, “I think I’ve actually got a good one for you. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Lay on the details, angel,” Keigo hummed, leaning against the lip of the counter.

You did have the perfect blend in mind. It wasn’t too old, hardly stale. It would pair as well as a nice tea could with fried takeout, judging by the smells wafting from the bag on the counter.

“It’s one I made for a brunch we catered a few months back. It’s just a white tea raspberry blend, but it’s not delicate. It should stand up to any sort of food you’ve brought. Thank you, by the way.”

Setting your crutches down, you started to push yourself up onto the counter without thinking much of it, booted-foot going limp off the edge.

“Of course, anytime— woah, angel,” His voice choked as you wavered on the edge of the counter, off-balance.

There was a short flap of wings and rush of air as you tried to rebalance, cursing the deadweight of your leg.

If Hawks hadn’t been directly behind you, you probably would’ve eaten shit.

You turned yourself as far as you could, cheeks going hot.

Hawks’ face was just inches away from yours. That was even to mention the hands hovering around your waist, chest brushing up against your back.

“S-sorry,” Did he just fucking stutter? “You looked like you were about to eat shit there.”

The words hardly reach you, you were too busy actively telling yourself not to stare at his pretty, plump lips because that is not something friends do. Not the can of worms you needed to open, right?

“I-,” You turned away from him, stretching up to the tea tin that had been out of your reach. “To think you’ve saved me from falling while reaching for loose leaf tea, twice.”

“All in a day's work,” His hands twitched around your sides but hardly shifted until you began to descend from the countertop. In fact, Hawks hardly moved away at all until you were situated back on your crutches.

You pretended not to notice the flush on his cheeks.

Maybe, it was a bit too close. Definitely too close, and bad circumstances, but god, you wanted more and more of him.

You swallowed your desires down, cracking a smile.

Be normal.

Be cool!

You shook the tin, leaves and dried fruit rattling inside, “So, cream or sugar?”

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

The two of you ended up on the couch, picking through the several boxes of takeout that Hawks had brought. Most of dinner was spent bantering back and forth about one of Hawks’ newest modeling contracts and if it was ‘ethical’ for him to wear his own feathers for the sake of ‘fashion’?

“So, off-topic from insulting my employment ethics, ” Hawks spoke while munching on a piece of chicken. “You surviving?”

“Barely,” You laughed, setting down your utensils with a huff. “I forget how isolation makes you go a little crazy. I’m running out of dumb shit to watch and even dumber shit to send you.”

Hawks snorted, setting down his own box, having had his fill, “I know you are more than adept at combing the internet for more good shit to send me.”

“I mean, maybe, but you keep sending me juicy photos of you being a dumbass. They’re hard to show up, you know?” You side-eyed him at the birdish tilt of his head.

“You don’t need to show me up, angel,” Hawks reminded you, some feathers packing up what was left of the food. “Though, it’s fun. You’re fun.”

You internally winced at the sentiment but forced the smile on your face not to waver.

It was a needed reminder.

This close to Hawks, you could fucking smell him. Maybe it was a little creepy, but you remembered it so well, after the villain attack. The scent of some sort of spicy cologne and old sweat, but it was hardly unpleasant. No, it was intoxicating. It made you feel almost fuzzy, as it wafted around like some reminder that Hawks and you were so close.

You thanked the stars that the apartment lacked the stimuli to make your quirk activate on its own.

Your couch wasn’t very large, and it seemed even smaller with how Hawks had laid his wings over it. They were propped up over the back, outstretched just the smallest bit to relieve some pressure. All the same, the massive feathers made you feel minuscule.

Even the way he was sitting was intoxicating and a bit gut-wrenching. It was casual, the way he leaned back against the far cushions, legs somewhat spread with an ankle over the opposite knee. The pose oozed a weird, untouchable confidence that you hadn’t seen in Hawks in months, maybe ever. At least, not directed at you.

Despite the warm nature of his words, he seemed guarded.

It made your throat dry.

Keigo was quite on edge. He hadn’t meant to get so close in the kitchen, really, he hadn’t. But, seeing you dangling off the edge of the counter like that, even if it was harmless and mundane, made his entire body and mind react before he could think.

But, you weren’t in any danger. Even if you had been, Keigo would’ve been there to catch you.

He’d put himself out of it, overthinking the whole thing. You were fine. Safe.

The other part of his mind spun with how he wanted to be so much closer.

Feeling the warmth of your body, the lines of your waist, the thrum of your heart and breath so fucking close—

It was a lot.

But, he was well-trained and not going to choke.

He’d shoved himself to the opposite side of the couch to you, keeping his boundaries up, strong as steel and hard as carbon.

Of course, Keigo knew the feelings were mutual. That didn’t mean that none of this was terrifying in the same way that it was exhilarating.

As much as he wanted to be closer (so much closer), Keigo remained careful. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was ruin something before it had even truly happened.

You sat back against the couch, repositioning your injured leg on the coffee table, “So, thoughts.”

“On?”

You didn’t look at Keigo as you replied, rather glared at your TV, “What to watch?”

“Oh,” You could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re watching something?”

“You tell me. I imagine you don’t get lots of time to do this sort of thing, do you?”

Hawks didn’t reply for a moment, sitting deeper into the couch, “Not really.”

“Then indulge, tailfeathers,” You tossed the remote in his lap. “Anything, go for it. Go nuts.”

Hawks nearly put on watching a reality cooking show, before you said that that was off-limits, per an odd conversation from way back when where he had admitted to be hot for Gordon Ramsey. He had been a little too vague as to whether or not he would pop a boner from Gordon’s filmed degradations. And truthfully, if anything was gonna give Hawks a hard-on tonight, you were determined for it not to be competitive cooking TV. Maybe, just maybe, you’d rather it be you.

...

Eventually, he settled on some psychological thriller you’d never heard of.

Keigo hadn’t either.

He was glad that you couldn’t hear his heart in the same way he heard your’s pounding.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched you crutch around, turning the already dim lights lower.

Calm the down, Hawks.

Calm the fuck down.

He’d never even done this before. Keigo wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, even if it was as simple as watching a film.

It would’ve been simpler if the tension in the air was thick and foggy, clouding over his consciousness as he tried to focus on anything other than your nearness and how much he wanted to drag you into his lap.

…

His feathers fluttered as you plopped back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over your lap and offering one to him.

He took it, settling it over his lap as the movie went on.

You weren’t an idiot. You could feel the blood rushing in your hot ears as you fisted the blanket over your legs.

Your mind spoke a lot louder than you wanted it to:

Just fucking do it.

Do what exactly?

The paramount thought that was causing anxiety to twirl in your gut.

Maybe, you could just tell him how you felt.

Maybe just hold his hand.

Maybe get fucking rejected because he’s out of your league and out of bounds.

Maybe even kiss him—

You were torturing yourself, the movie just background noise to your internal dilemma.

You’d asked him to your apartment and Hawks had bought you fucking dinner. That wasn’t a lot, sure, maybe, but there were also the months of lead-up.

There were all of the cold mornings and cheeky grins you gave each other in the waking coffee shop. There were the fuzzy jokes, the lingering glances, and the tight feeling you got in your chest whenever he graced you with mere eye contact.

It felt like you were already in too deep to not be honest about how you felt towards him. Fuck, you’d been in too deep for months. Every time you made him a damn drink, you wanted to just drink him in. You were all fluttering hearts and sweet smiles for him in a way that you couldn’t suppress, only squash in moments of such intense anxiety like this—

“Hey, dove?” It was Hawks, shocking you from your turmoil with a soft voice. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” Your reply was curt and clipped.

Make a decision now.

Pull the bandage off, (Y/N).

It’ll just be worse, the longer you wait.

Maybe Hawks did just want to fuck with some cute feelings, the seemingly longing looks be damned. Yeah, you liked him way more than for just a fuck, that was obvious and unavoidable. Besides, it’d be better to know than to not know, right?

“You sure? If the movie’s too much, we can turn it off,” Hawks sounded genuinely concerned from the other side of the couch.

...

You committed, taking a deep breath and turning to Hawks.

“It’s not that,” You looked at the couch between the two of you, tracing the seam of the cushion. “The movie’s fine.”

“Then, you’re not feeling great for another reason?” Keigo asked, feeling each of your breaths and heartbeats like bass drums in his ears. He hides the shaking of his hands by crossing them over his chest. “You can talk to me, (Y/N).”

“Can I?” You asked, shaking your head and laughing at yourself. “Hawks, I need to do something really fucking stupid.”

Holy fuck.

Are they—

“What’s that?”

His voice was smaller than he wanted it to be.

“Fuck, Hawks,” You finally forced yourself to look at him, taking in his guarded posture and pained expression.

Your heart sank.

“I just need to be honest with you.”

Hawks’s brow soured, lips twitching, “Go for it, dove.”

You laughed, maybe trying to soothe yourself, “It’s probably is just, so fucking stupid, all things considered.”

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your lip between sentences and willing yourself to just get it out—

“Hawks, I like you. A lot.”

He still didn’t say anything and you could feel shards of your heart drive into your lungs.

You forced yourself to look up at him, smiling with the slight release of tension in your sternum, however painful.

“I know, we’re just friends, right? I’m just the barista and you’re my special, pro hero regular. I know I’m overstepping right now, but it feels unfair for me to not be honest with you.”

Keigo already knew this, right? He knew how you felt, fuck, he’d felt how you felt. He just wasn’t prepared for the exploding and thrumming in his chest when you told him with your sweet lips and kind words.

Why did it feel so different when you were smiling at him like you were in pain and telling him so fucking honestly with your words?

It was the thing about you that he admired the most, that candor in your tone and the grin in your cheeks as you spoke so.

But, your smile was falling, leaving watery-looking eyes.

“Hawks, I like you. Way too much for friends, and I needed to say something.”

Keigo’s mouth was dry.

For the first time in so fucking long, he was genuinely speechless.

He couldn’t recall a time in his life anyone had spoken so earnestly to him, just you. Just you, you, you— casually, over and over again, you talked to him like he was something real and something to be cared for. It was subtle, but it was one of the many things that made him want you closer.

Yet, despite all his bundled up desires, he was lost for words.

“I’m sorry—”

He stopped you, “(Y/N), please don’t apologize.”

“But—”

“(Y/N).”

Hawks’ voice was sharp. It made the expression on your face rapidly fall.

He looked at you with rapt attention, arms uncrossing from his chest.

He turned to you on the couch, feathers fluffed up and twitching.

Your nose stung as Hawks, all pretty golds and ambers, shook out an exhale and balled up the blanket in his lap.

“Hawks—”

“Why would you need to be sorry?”

Hawks looked at you with wide eyes, brow creased. His shoulders were... shaking?

Your head spun, leg aching, “... What do you mean?”

Hawks finally met your gaze, giving you the sweetest, saddest smile you’d ever seen, “Dove, you’re acting like there’s no way I could feel the same way.”

Every cell in your body stuttered.

“You’ve done it since we’ve met.”

Hawks scooted closer on the cushions of the couch.

“You’ve always acted like there’s just no way I could like you, give a shit about you—”

He moved a bit closer.

You couldn’t make yourself move.

“You want to know the truth?”

You creaked out a nod.

Keigo couldn’t help the way he went to cup your cheeks in his hands, thumbs rubbing along the apples of your cheeks. You lean into his touch, just like at the hospital, despite the blend of absolute fear and confusion in your expression.

“How could I not care about you, dove?” And it finally came out. “I care about so much— dove, I don’t know what to fucking say.”

That made you speechless, lips parting just the slightest bit as Hawks continued, losing composure with his morphing expressions.

He wet his lips, swallowing, “Dove, I’ve never—any of this. I-I don’t know what o-or how to say any of what I want to right now.”

You speak before thinking.

“Show me, if you don’t know how to say it.”

The idea seemed so novel as Keigo ran a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth. He met your gaze with the gooiest, sweetest look you’d ever seen in your life, “You want me to?”

“Please.”

It was all the two of you had wanted for a while now, right?

“If I kiss you, I’m not ever gonna be able to make this go away, am I?” Keigo was speaking to himself, just above his breath. But, you were more than close enough to hear him.

“Hey, Hawks? I don’t know if we can make ‘this’ try to go away.” You grabbed one of the hands cupping your face, pulling it away, only to shakily press in your lips to the bones on the back of it. “I don’t want to anymore.”

“Y-you gotta stop being so sweet, (Y/N)—”

Neither of you could wait a moment longer.

Your arms wrapped around Keigo’s shoulder. In the same motions, he pulled you closer by your waist, dragging you finally closer to him.

He held your jaw like you were the most precious thing in the world. Because, truthfully, you were to him. The sentiment was shared Deeply.

Your lips pressed together and the long-held tensions in your chests mutually shattered, dissolving in the honeyed touch of each other’s genuine attention.

You angled your head perfectly, Keigo’s hand guiding you as his mouth worked against yours. It wasn’t a particularly steamy sort of affair, but by god, it wasn’t in any way chaste. Not with the tight grip and thumbing on your ribs. Not with the way your hands tangled in the soft (holy fuck, soft) hair at the base of Keigo’s skull.

You both tasted each other's sweetness, craving more of it after denying yourselves of it for so long. It was white-hot, exploding behind your eyes, even as your quirk remained dormant. Keigo was honey and cream and smoked spices all dancing across your palette.

To Keigo? You were sweet, cool water over a hot burn. You were the heat of a hearth rolling over him on the coldest of days. He swears that in the first moments he finally got to be close to you, and over and over again— he finally understood how your quirk worked.

There was no way that finally feeling you, feeling you as he felt you, could be described with just five senses.

You pulled away first, gasping for breath and arching your back into him. You lingered as close as you could, pressing your forehead to Keigo’s while your breaths mingled. You didn’t dare stray far.

“Was that enough to show you?” Keigo asked, breathless. He kept a wide hand against your back, urging you with a bit of soft pressure to put your weight into it. You complied, settling in his hold as Keigo stroked at your hot cheeks.

You nodded, beaming up at him with that sunny smile of yours. It never failed to make heat burn through Keigo and god, did it feel good to finally let it unabashed.

“I take it, you like me too, huh,” You smiled, looking a bit embarrassed.

“Very much, very much,” Keigo repeated, pressing a kiss to your nose (he’d always wanted to do that). “So much, (Y/N). I apologize for not saying anything sooner. This is just...”

“New to you, right?” You finished his sentence, thumbing along the back of his neck in a way that made Keigo just melt. “It’s been a while for me too, if it makes you feel better.”

“It does, dove. Thank you.” Keigo let out a deep breath, shaking his head against yours. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

“It’s alright, same goes for me,” As much as you needed to adjust due to the angle of your recovering leg, you couldn’t make yourself do it. You were so wonderfully close to Hawks, you never wanted to move.

“If we’re being honest, then I need to be honest with you,” Hawks met your eyes, his expression going a little dimmer.

You braced for the worst.

He picked up your shift easily, finally able to express how quickly he caught your mood after so long of being attuned to it.

“Oh wait, no, (Y/N), nothing terrible, I promise,” Hawks rubbed at your sides. “It’s about the miel.”

“The... miel?” You cocked your head to the side, confused, recalling the drink somewhat hazily. “The drink I made you on the day of... the attack?”

Hawks gave you a tense smile, “That one, yeah. Remember how you said it was just based on your ambient feelings?”

“Uh-huh.” You let confusion lace your tone until it slowly started to dawn on you.

“You made the drink, ambiently, around me—”

Your eyes widened, mouth falling open, “Oh my god, Hawks, did my feelings for you get in the drink?”

Hawks graced you with a sweet, sympathetic smile, fingers tucking at the hair around your ear, “They did, dove. I’ve kind of known for a few days, it just hasn’t been the time or setting to say something. I apologize.”

“N-no, it’s okay, I totally understand,” You sighed into his grip. “I really thought it might be something worse.”

“Consider your worries assuaged,” Hawks hummed, eyes drifting to your boot. He deadpanned suddenly. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad does your leg hurt right now?”

Fairly bad, considering. You were half on your knees, the booted leg twisted awkwardly while still raised to the coffee table. This wasn’t even to mention the arch of your back so you could be all that closer to Hawks.

The pain of the position was easy to forget; you were still shaking from kissing Hawks just once.

“Uh, maybe like a seven, once I can feel anything other than how good you felt just now,” you hummed, grinning up at Hawks as his face went bright red.

The infinite pleasure you received, making him blush so sweetly.

He shook it off, squeezing your sides, “Cute. Very cute. Mutually returned sentiment, but let’s adjust.”

You nodded but didn’t have much time to react as a bundle of Hawks’s feathers lifted you every which way, albeit incredibly gently. All said and done, he was fully upright against the back of the couch. With the support of a feather or two, Hawks’s arms tugged you into his lap. Your legs stretched to the side, the booted one immediately propped up by a feather-supplied pillow.

You both settled yourselves, blushing and leaning on each other now that you finally were allowing yourself to.

Keigo fully wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against him. One of his wings even shifted to drape over one his shoulder, sheltering the two of you in a canopy of a crimson. Keigo let his hands wander over your hips, not seeking anything more than blessed attention and heat. You gave it all to him, tucking your face into his collarbone, drowning in the scent that made you feel at home.

Keigo pressed his lips to your crown and legitimately shuddering.

He spoke to himself, so faintly and quietly, you hardly caught it, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

There was melancholy in his voice, but you were quick to strip it away.

You brushed your lips along his jaw, savoring the way he held you tighter, “I have too. Can we do this more?”

“Anytime, dove. Anytime.”

“Right now sound good?”

You withdrew to beam up at him as you were so good at doing, only to be smothered by craving-satiating kisses anywhere Keigo could get to. The sweet, high laughter that he dripped onto you made your heart burst all over again.

And you finally, finally fell into the other sweetly, warmly, and properly.

||||||||||||||||||

taglist: @thepandapopo @hawksexual @sinclairsamess @darcia22 @inhalingsoysauce @yee-fxcking-haw

#salem writes #lavender latte #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo x you #takami keigo x y/n #mha reader insert #hawks reader insert #hawks #takami keigo #hawks mha #hawks bnha #im soft for this one yall #so soft

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shanitani · 4 years ago

Text

CHAPTER 3: BAD B*TCHES

table of contents

👩🏽‍💻: lol did y’all miss me? im still on hiatus for maybe a good two weeks until summer srry<\3. but to make up for it I made this chapter hella long.

“Damn their water pressure is good.” You mumbled softly, turning off the faucet. The boy had a cleaner bathroom than you had expected, in comparison to the ones in America - he was almost cleaner than yourself. You wiped the fog from the glass admiring your damp face for a moment, fully indulging in the fact that you were really in Japan.

You slipped on your pajamas, the bottoms hugged at the figure well and unfortunately so did the tank top Mitsuki put out for you. You had no problem wearing it around by yourself, but you had to take into account there was a boy you had never met before living there as well. It didn’t help that Midnight never gave you any descriptions about the boy as well, so it was obvious how high alert you were.

You grabbed your belongings, turning the music down to a soft hum in volume before turning off the bathroom light. The cold air hit your damp warm one before clearing your vision to see the teenage boy you had been wondering about the day you got your acceptance email. You both stared in awe, you took in his muscular arms due to training, the light ruffle of his blonde hair, his mouth fixated in a frown, and his piercing red eyes.

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t looking at you either, your skin glistening under harsh light, your hair lightly tied back with a hair tie, the familiar smell he smelt minutes before now more concentrated and easier to name. He dared not to look at your figure-hugging the waistband of the pajamas, trying to rip his glare away fast enough. He grunts, beginning the doorknob, “You better have had left my bathroom the way you saw it.”

You frowned furring your brows, “Duh I did. And hello to you too.” you scoffed looking down at your phone in an attempt to make the situation less awkward. The blonde boy let out a groaned out “hey” before opening his door, and closing it in the same breath. “Rude ass,” you mumbled under your breath before heading downstairs back to your room.

“You met him?? TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED” Imani squealed putting her elbows on her crisscrossed legs looking in awe behind the screen. You smiled at her eagerness to know the boy, though you didn’t think he was all that. “Well he’s pretty muscular, um tall, he’s blonde and rude as fuck.” You rolled your eyes at your last sentence as you simultaneously put your belongings in your new backpack for tomorrow.

“Okayyy he could work! You gotta fierce Lil attitude too so it’ll work out fine.” Imani flashed you a smirk - knowing you couldn’t hit her from Japan. “Oh shut up Mani! you know if I was there I’d slap your ass right now.” you pointed your middle finger towards the camera, giving her a nice view of your white acrylic nails. “Exactly why ima act out now rather than next year.” She huffed, turning off her led lights looking back at her best friend. “I’m gonna miss you tomorrow, school’s gonna be so boring.” You whined thinking about the worst scenario known to come. If they were anything like Bakugo, well you were going to be entirely fucked. “I will too. But stop making me sad about it! We gone see each other soon.” Mani kissed the phone foreshadowing a kiss to your cheek, you smiled doing the same motions as her before ending the call and rolling over to fall asleep.

“I better like these people, Nah they better like me....” you shut your eyes, anxious for your first day to start.

The next day came, as Mitsuki dropped you and Bakugou off. You expected him to at the least show you to where you needed to be - but instead he slung his backpack to the side , not giving you a glimpse of attention your way. “One day im gone beat his ass up.” you took a breathe trying to find the dorm rooms, only to be met with a man right in front of you.

“Hi, [L/N] nice to finally meet you.” The tired-looking man shook your hand motioning you into the dorms. “As you know we enroll all students into the dorms for their safety because of accidents that have happened in previous years.” you nodded looking at the huge building with high ceilings and pillars inside. The man showed you around to the necessities like the gym, commons room, the classrooms, and finally to your dorm room. “I forgot to mention, but you probably know me. I’m Aizawa, and I’ll be teaching you along with class 1A. Today we just want you to prepare your dorm room so you can sleep easy tomorrow - I won’t lie to you, it won’t be easy.” he shrugged giving you the keys to your dorm.

You thanked the man before opening the room, as said in the description - the rest of your belongings were stacked to the side of your room along with your mattress to the right of it and a desk to the left. “Might as well put on music.” you thought to yourself, scrolling through the millions of playlists before finally reaching the one you wanted.

“Yeah, this will take a while.”

Putting on the comforter of the bed, and adding the last of your pictures on the wall; you flopped onto your bed feeling a slight headache arrive. You groaned wiping your forehead, looking out the window to see the sun almost come to a set. “How long do these children work? Seems like their school hours are a whole part-time job.” before you could laugh at your inner joke, you heard the loud door creak open before the kids voiced roamed the hallways.

You shifted uncomfortably on your bed, knowing that they knew you arrived. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to meet them. You just didn’t want to do the same cycle of meeting new friends again - it was a hassle and you were fine with the ones you had in America. You took a deep breath trying to regain your thoughts, “They won’t even know I’m here. It’s alright.” you repeated to yourself trying to make the anxiety slowly creep up disappear.

“Yeah she’s here now stop asking me about her, you wanna talk to her go right there.” you heard the familiar huffed voice described as Bakugous. You could tell he pointed towards your dorm the way a teenage girl laughed, hearing the footsteps come closer and closer towards your room. “Shit.” you jumped off the bed, fixing your hair making sure to make a good impression no matter who it may be. That’s when the footsteps stopped, and a light knock was met at your door.

you opened the door to a girl squealing, “Hi!” a curly haired girl engulfed you into a hug making you step back giggling at her eagerness, “Hey! your hair smells nice.” you hugged her back, finally stepping back to get a look of her. Her hair was the same color as her skin - pink, that you could only assume was the cause of her quirk. However, she did have black features that made you believe she was Blasian.

“Mina stop harassing the new girl! it’s only her first day. Hello I’m Momo!” A black haired girl came waving her hand at you, she looked beautiful - you were almost intimidated by her stunning features feeling a tad insecure once side by side.

“Oh no worries!” you giggled sitting on the edge of your bed motioning for them to come in more. “How’s your first day been?” Mina sat at the other edge of your bed looking at you with huge eyes, “Honestly, kind of boring. also confusing since this place is huge. Way bigger than the schools in America” you motioned towards out your door foreshadowing the commons room.

“America? that’s where you’re from?” Momo chimed in walking towards your desk chair to sit down. You nodded, “Mhm, California.” Mina gasped - “California! You’re so lucky!” you laughed at her bubbly attitude that was a bit similar to your bestfriends at home. “Trust me you wouldn’t want to be there, I’m here for a reason aren’t I” you smirked nudging her shoulder slightly.

“ Wow, How long will you be staying?” “One year.” you shrugged looking off in your dorm window. “Well I hope you love it here, hopefully become a pro.” Momo smiled at you genuinely, and you couldn’t help but fall in love with her persona. Before you could speak again you heard a knock on your door and small murmurs behind your door, Momo opened the door slightly, only hearing a faint “Yall better not embarrass me. I’m serious” before she opened the door all the way to the boys.

“Shut the hell up Momo.” one yellow haired boy lightheartedly says before leaning on your wall and catching your eyes. “Hey! I’m sero and this is Denki. Nice to meet you.” Sero extended his hand to yours to shake, “Wassup Sero, Hi Denki.” you smiled at the other boy.

“Damn, so this is why Bakugo didn’t want to show you off huh.” Denki came closer to you, taking in your features. “Or he just don’t like me” you scoffed thinking about his arrogant characteristics from Sunday. “Well that’s good, less people to compete against.” Denki sat next to you on the edge of your bed fully focused onto you. You smiled taking observations to his flirtatious personality.

No matter Denki giving you his full and undivided attention, Sero caught your eye the moment he walked in the door. You looked Sero up and down, his outfit caught your full attention. He wore the UA uniform required yet paired with grey Jordans and a silver chain dangling from his neck, it was no understatement that he was a very attractive boy. “Why you standing there all quiet, Sero? you obviously came up here for something.” you jokingly stated - trying to start some conversation with the boy.

“Tried to see if you were really what all the hype was about.” He shrugged coming up near you to overpower your figure, your heart raced as he looked down upon you smirking, he knows he fine chile. “They were definitely right.” He smirked looking at you with low eyes.

“Y’all are the most flirtatious boys I know. Swear I can’t take yall no where.” Momo grabbed the two boys by their collard shirts making them groan in displeasure earning a laugh from you - only to make them groan in embarrassement.

“Bye boys.” you wave them off as Momo literally kicked them out your dorm, before closing it in front of them. “I like you” you pointed to her, making her eyes widen, while her cheeks grew into a blush before smiling. “Now how did you make a better impression than me and I came here first.” Mina flopped onto your bed frowning. “Don’t worry girl I like you too.” you slapped her thigh in a friendly manner.

“Alright you two enough talking, get back to your dorms. You all have a long day tomorrow.” Aizawa yelled through the door with his usual tired voice before shuffling off to his room closing the door. “Guess I’ll see you tommorow [Y/N]!” Mina skipped off towards your door “Yes! see you tomorrow” Momo opened the door looking back once more “Bye boo’s!” you called out before the closed your door.

You turned on your led lights in substitute for the harsh lighting in your dorm, shuffling off into your bed. you looked off onto your wall looking at the pictures you stuck to them, “Damn, I miss you Imani” your hand grazed upon the picture of you and Imani sticking up the middle finger to a flashing camera with your phones in one hand and a red cup in the other - a party you both went to knowing damn well you weren’t supposed to be there.

You turned towards the other way of your bed shutting your eyes - anticipating for the long day ahead of you, and meeting the rest of your class tomorrow morning.

👩🏽‍💻: y’all fw y/n being bisexual orrr? or do y’all want scandals? tell me now😁

Tag list(send me an ask to be apart of it)

@quincywrites, @fandomsgotmefucked , @lokis-teseract , @racistareversa,@ladybakugouu, @melanin-baddie , @oookore , @bnhathotty, @bleach-your-panties , @shikamaruhairline, @dilfhwa ,@winxme

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x poc!reader #kirishima x poc!reader #sero x poc!reader #bnha x poc!reader #mha x poc!reader #mha fanfiction #bakugo x black reader #katsuki x black reader #bakugou fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #midoriya #izuku midoriya #black reader stories #kirishima #fanfiction #poc #my hero academia #katsuki fanficton

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poor-baby-bangtan · 4 years ago

Note

i was wondering if you could do something snz-centric with jungkook. like a cold or flu. hes just so adorable and im too much of a sucker of bts taking care of him in fics. (also im so happy youre back and well, you're one of my favourite bangtan sickfic writers here on tumblr ^^)

I hope you enjoy!

Sickie: jeongguk

Caretakers: Namjoon and Seokjin

Words: 6,853

Themes: snz, fever, hurt/comfort

"Ht'tschu!"

By the fifth time that Jeongguk had to tear himself away from the recording equipment to sneeze almost violently into his hands, Namjoon was ready to call it quits for the day. The pair had been finishing up some backing vocals for a nearly-completed song - it was only a bit of harmonization, nothing extreme or extravagant. Jeongguk had always been the best with harmonizing, especially in a higher pitch, so Namjoon figured that he would layer the maknae's hidden track over it first just to get a feel for the way it sounded.

But Jeongguk was barely able to get through any of his lines or simple melodies without having to turn around to sneeze or clear his throat. And now that Namjoon thought about it, his voice did sound a bit rough around the edges and maybe even a little congested if he listened closely enough to his dongsaeng's voice blasting through his headphones. And, above all, he couldn't get through a track that he would have aced any other day. It was nearing 1 AM and the maknae looked tired, stressed, and sick behind the mic.

"JK," he called through the slightly-opened door beyond the large built-in window between them (purely to keep unwanted sounds out of the recording). "You okay?"

Jeongguk sniffed and rubbed at his nose with a knuckle, ears reddening slightly at the sudden attention. Namjoon found it incredibly endearing that, despite living together for just shy of seven years, he still managed to get embarrassed over minor stuff like that.

"Yeah, I'm alright, hyung. I'm sorry, I know you wanted this finished quickly," he managed, staring at the open mic in front of him with obvious frustration and guilt, the tip of his bunny nose pink with mild irritation.

Namjoon stood and took off his bulky headphones, joining him in the adjacent room and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Gguk, it's not your fault." The maknae sniffled again but didn't say anything, looking so pitifully sad as his eyes wandered around the floor. "Are you wearing a new cologne or anything? New shampoo?" Namjoon knew how sensitive their youngest was to smells - his perfume of choice was actually faint and made for women and he wore it for the sole purpose of it not irritating his sinuses. Even a change in shampoo, conditioner, or hair spray had a tendency to trigger Jeongguk's rhinitis flare-ups.

Jeongguk shook his head. "No, everything's been the same, Joon-hyung. I don't know why it's like this."

The rapper chewed at his lip worriedly, running a hand through the younger man's soft hair. "You think you're getting sick, babe?" Namjoon chose to break out the pet names now - it helped break Jeongguk out of that shy, nervous, I'm-grown-up-so-I-can-handle-everything-myself shell he always tried to adopt.

"Hih-H'tshhuh! T'cHh!"

Jeongguk didn't have time to reply before he was pitching forward to sneeze twice into his elbow, leaning back with a little groan. Namjoon chuckled quietly and rubbed the maknae's back as he sniffled and scrubbed at his nose with his sleeve. "I think that might be a yes."

The maknae sighed, rubbing at his brow like he had a headache. "I don't want to be."

Namjoon just tutted and put his palm to the younger man's forehead, frowning when he felt the slightest bit of heat underneath his hand. He wasn't flushed and didn't feel too warm, but he always ran hot when he was coming down with something. "I don't think you have a choice in this one, Gguk-ah."

"But hyung," Jeongguk whined, looking up at him with his big doe eyes, "I can't get sick right now. We have so much stuff to do and I'm already making you stay late-"

"Hey, no," he shushed. "You're not holding back anything. We have work, sure, but it's not anything that we can't push back a few days for you. This is the lightest our schedule has been for a while, so don't stress about it, okay?" Namjoon smiled faintly, running his fingers once more through Jeongguk's fringe. "And you're not keeping me here doing anything. We could have been doing this next week or even not at all; this is optional just to test the sound, you know that."

Jeongguk nodded, sniffling again for good measure. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled, still disappointed and very much not convinced.

"Why don't we go ahead and head home? It's late," Namjoon yawned, stretching, all an act just to get the maknae to not protest leaving just like the rapper knew he would. He had always been the hardest one to take care of - most of the others eventually gave in and let themselves be coddled. But, nope, not Jeongguk. He would put up a fight until he was passed out or in the hospital, something that his hyungs tried relentlessly to keep from happening. No matter how much they drilled into his head that you need to talk to us, Gguk or you can tell us anything, Gguk, it seemed like the kid never listened. Despite the fact that he had recently turned twenty-one, he had absolutely zero skills in the self-care department.

Jeongguk nodded and Namjoon marked that as a big success on his part. "Okay." He patted his pockets a few times before sighing. "Let me find my keys first."

That's right. He drove us here this morning.

"No that's okay, Gguk. I'd rather call a cab." Namjoon wasn't sure if he really wanted his maknae driving while sick, and at midnight nonetheless. He was already a little reckless behind the wheel on the best of days and the last thing they needed was him having a cold (or worse yet, flu) on top of that. The leader silently cursed himself that he hadn't gotten around to getting his license yet (and tried not to be embarrassed that the youngest of his group had to drive him around despite the age gap).

"No, I'm fine, hyung. I can drive," Jeongguk protested, looking just a little too eager to prove himself and that he was indeed okay. "I can.. d-dr- hhitsHh!"

He was interrupted by another sneeze, though, pitching forward, bent at the waist from the strength of it. He slowly straightened upwards, hands still cupped around his face. Namjoon took the hint and passed him a tissue, which Jeongguk hesitantly took as if he were almost too prideful to take it. He usually was, and the rapper was thankful that it was late in the evening. A tired Jeongguk was an obedient Jeongguk.

"I know you can, Ggukkie, but I'd rather just call someone. It's late and we're both tired; I'd feel better if we had a cab or a manager come pick us up. Besides, we're here every day. We can pick up your car another day, yeah?"

Jeongguk wiped his nose with the tissue and threw it away, sighing. "Okay. Is Sejin-nim still here?"

"Let me text him. Go ahead and put your coat on."

The maknae nodded and went to retrieve his hoodie as Namjoon fumbled with his phone.

Joon: Hyung-nim, are you still in the building?

Cool manager hyung: yeah I'm about to leave. need a ride?

He smiled at how Sejin already knew what he needed before he had the chance to say anything about it.

Joon: yeah, me and Ggukie are finishing up in the studio.

Joon: do you mind dropping us off?

Manager hyung: of course, it's on the way anyways. but I thought Jeongguk drove you two here..?

Joon: yeahh but I think he's coming down with something. don't want him on the roads right now ~_~;

Manager hyung: aishhhh why am i not surprised

Manager hyung: that kid always pushes himself too hard

Manager hyung: meet me outside in 10. i'll stop by the pharmacy tomorrow.

Joon: thank you Sejin-hyung :))

By the time Namjoon looked up from his phone, Jeongguk had pulled his hoodie on and was scrubbbing at his nose with one of the sleeves, sniffling weakly. The hoodie was a couple sizes too large and hung low around mid-thigh. He had balled up his hands inside of the sleeves, making rather adorable sweater paws with them. His nose was now red, morphing from the innocent pink tinge that it had held for most of the night, and his eyes looked a little far-off and watery. Namjoon tried his best not to make a sound of endearment and simply pocketed his phone, reaching out and squeezing his dongsaeng's shoulder.

"Sejin-nim is gonna pull up out front for us."

"'Kay," the maknae mumbled, looking exhausted despite himself. Hopefully it wouldn't be hard to get some medicine in him and put him to bed.

Sejin held true to his word; his car was already warm and running by the time the pair made it downstairs. Namjoon crawled into the backseat with Jeongguk instead of taking his usual place up front. Jeongguk didn't seem to mind, or even notice for that matter, as he put on his seatbelt and yawned into his hand. Namjoon caught Sejin's knowing smirk in the rear view mirror, though, and felt his face heat up.

He wasn't one of the most doting members but he still cared, alright?

Sejin started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "How's the song looking, boys?"

"It's going great, Sejin-nim," Namjoon smiled. "Jeongguk is really blowing it out of the water." He reached over and ruffled Jeongguk's hair lightly. Jeongguked smiled that cute smile he does, lips barely pulling back to preview his bunny teeth, eyes scrunching gently around the edges, and it was all Namjoon could do to not make a noise like a variation of a dying animal. That kid does something to his heart that should not be legal. The maknae pushed his hand away and he let him, reaching down to intertwine their fingers and rest them on his thigh instead.

Sejin chuckled deep and throaty, smiling in the rearview mirror. "Just as usual, huh?"

"Yep." Namjoon ran his thumb over Jeongguk's knuckles. "Golden maknae here always does his best."

Jeongguk ducked his head and smiled, teasing his lower lip with his teeth, ears going a bit red. He had never been able to take a compliment without getting embarrassed. "Thanks, hyung."

"Aish, don't thank me kid." Namjoon swore his heart was about to burst. His maknae really was just too sweet without knowing it.

Jeongguk was opening his mouth to say something back but stopped short, getting a far-off look in his eyes as his jaw hung slack. His nose twitched and scrunched several times with the effort not to sneeze; his breath hitched several times as his breathing quickened. He was not able to quell the feeling, though, and sneezed openly onto his lap before he could react.

"Hih.. hh-huh-H'itsxhu! Ht'scHh! Es'cHischh!"

He tore his hand from Namjoon's as he caught the second and third that came with it. They sounded increasingly intense and painful, and Namjoon winced in sympathy.

Sejin sucked in air through his teeth sharply as Jeongguk slowly brought his hands away from his face and sniffled in retaliation a few times. "You feeling okay, kid?" He pulled up at a red light and looked him over in the rear view mirror. "That sounded kind of bad."

Namjoon was glad that Sejin chose not to mention the fact that he had already told him Jeongguk wasn't feeling his best. Jeongguk would have been eternally embarrassed and probably would deny his hyung's help for a while. He had a strange trust system and Sejin seemed to know that.

Jeongguk snuffed once more against the increasing stuffiness in his sinuses before replying. "Yes, I'm okay Sejin-nim, thank you."

Namjoon withheld a sigh and put a hand on Jeongguk's thigh. Always so closed off and shy. Of course, he loved his maknae and wouldn't change his personality for anything. But sometimes he wished he would open up a little more and be a little more trusting to those around him. He had opened up to his band mates after a while, of course, but it was still hard for even them to get through to him at times. Jeongguk could be silly and goofy and just himself wherever he was, but when it came to showing any form of weakness it was like he retreated as far back into his shell as he could get. It was a constant inner struggle for him, realizing that he's still human and needs to treat himself as such. Even one (1) voice crack during a performance can drive him to tears. Weakness and mistakes are just not something that he tolerates with himself, as sad as it makes Namjoon. He's never really as concerned with Jeongguk's physical condition as much as he is with his psychological one when his health dips.

Sejin sighed quietly enough for Jeongguk to miss it and pulled up as the light turned green again. "If you're sure. Just let me know if that changes, okay, Jeongguk-ah?"

"Yes, hyung-nim." Namjoon could hear the gratefulness in the maknae's voice, even if he most likely would not accept the help.

"Aish, kid, always so formal," Sejin grumbled playfully. He had long stopped trying to get Jeongguk to drop the honorifics. They were fond and playful now more than anything.

Jeongguk made that happy noise in the back of his throat that he tended to do, sort of like a mix between a laugh and a endearing huff, and replied, "Of course, Sejin-ssi."

"Ack!" Sejin waved one of his hands in the air dismissively. "That's worse!"

Jeongguk chuckled, fully this time, with a grin that split his whole face and made his eyes squint. He seemed tired, but happy still - probably wasn't feeling too bad, then.

The trio fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the trip. Namjoon could feel that they were all tired - reasonably so, it was past 1am - and if he was being honest he was ready to do nothing more than just crash in bed when he got home. But his maknae still needed to be taken care of, because he certainly wasn't going to take medicine on his own.

The pair said their goodbyes to Sejin after he pulled up outside of their apartment, with the older man giving Namjoon a knowing wink as a way to say good luck with that one. Namjoon just laughed and waved him off. He knew how to handle his maknae.

Jeongguk stumbled inside, already half-asleep from the car ride, and made his way into the bathroom. Namjoon veered towards the kitchen where their medicine cabinet was and dug around for a few minutes looking for some sort of cold medicine or anti-congestant. He came up with a half-empty blister packet of a nighttime cold medicine which was about the best he could have hoped to find. With the winter, colds had been going around the members quite often and it was around that time of the year that they were constantly running low on medicines. That, and it would help Jeongguk sleep more soundly - even though he usually slept a lot (like, a lot) when he was sick, it was never very deeply and it left him still feeling exhausted, even after he was healthy again.

Namjoon popped a few blue gel-capped pills into his hand and filled up a glass of ice water as he heard the shower come on, sighing when he realized he also still needed to shower. But then he had a thought... why wait? He'd rather keep an eye on his dongsaeng anyways.

Setting the pills and glass on the counter, Namjoon made his way other to the bathroom and poked his head in. "Mind if I join you, Ggukkie?" he called.

"Sure, hyung," came Jeongguk's reply, rough around the edges and tired. Even though he had been living with roommates for many years, he still erred to the shy side, especially when it came to being undressed around others. But, if he was tired enough or felt bad enough, he tended to care less about exposure and more about having company and skinship.

At his response, Namjoon stepped into the bathroom and quietly closed the door behind him, quickly stripping down and pulling back the shower curtain to step under the warm stream of water. Jeongguk stepped over to make room for him (thankfully they finally had enough money for an apartment with several large bathrooms with large tubs and showers, so both of them comfortably fit). The water was a tad too hot, probably because the younger was feeling chilled from being out in the cold, even if they were just walking from the car to their door. Or that's what Namjoon hoped - he was praying the kid wasn't cold because a fever was coming on. He did his best to ignore it, though.

Jeongguk was just beginning to shampoo his hair, eyes droopy and tired. He sniffled once, and then twice - the steam was probably helping with his congestion. Namjoon struggled against a fond little smile and reached over to shampoo his dongsaeng's hair himself. Jeongguk didn't even argue and dropped his hands immediately to his sides. His eyes fluttered closed as his hyung worked the product into his hair, swaying with the motion. He sighed a long, drawn-out breath and leaned into Namjoon's touch, mouth just barely hanging open like a puppy's when receiving a good scratch.

"You're not allowed to ever stop that, hyung," he mumbled, words thick with exhaustion and groggy, eyes still closed. Namjoon laughed again and massaged the base of his scalp.

"We'll see about that, kiddo." He worked the suds through Jeongguk's long hair (wow, it had really gotten lengthy, hadn't it?) and took a second to admire the youngest's features. Even when he was feeling under the weather, his face was still radiant and beautiful. His skin was perfectly blemished, a healthy tan (how could anyone ever want to whitewash him?), and the resting-exhaustion-pout glued to his expression made him look younger and more adorable than ever. As Namjoon guided his head underneath the stream of water, he took a second to appreciate how lucky he was to have Jeongguk as his dongsaeng.

Jeongguk preened under the warm water, melting under it as it met his skin. He looked half-asleep. Namjoon fondly tapped his cheek, to which he opened his eyes; the older man smirked. He was just about to say something teasing when Jeongguk's face screwed up and he hitched, pitching forward catching it in his elbow.

"Hh- hh'itschiew!"

He sniffled a few times as he straightened up, keeping his elbow to his face as he coughed a couple times into it. Namjoon felt his chest tighten and eyebrows pinch together.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay Ggukkie?" He ran his hands through the younger's hair once more, scratching at the base of his neck. Jeongguk just nodded and coughed one more time before dropping his arm, pushing even further into his hyung's touch. But he didn't say anything or respond verbally at all. He was probably feeling too tired to even try and debate about his health. Namjoon just sighed and reached for his own shampoo, quickly lathering up his silver-blonde hair. "I have some medicine laid out for you. Let's just finish up so you can take it and we can get you to bed, hmm?"

Jeongguk only nodded sleepily once more, fumbling for the conditioner. Namjoon once again took over washing his dongsaeng's hair as soon as he had finished with his own; Jeongguk was seriously lagging behind as he struggled to stay awake underneath the stream of hot water. After rinsing out the remaining conditioner from the younger's hair, Namjoon passed over the body wash, turning the maknae around so he could wash his back. Soon enough, though, they were both toweling off and clumsily dressing in sleepwear. Jeongguk groaned when Namjoon pulled out the hairdryer.

"Hyung, can we please just skip that? I want to sleep," he whined, lip protruding in a cute little pout in an attempt to win his hyung over.

"Nope, no way. You're already getting sick and the last thing we need is it getting worse because you went to bed with cold, wet hair. Turn around and sit on the counter if you want."

Jeongguk huffed, annoyed, but did as he was told anyways. Namjoon pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead before brushing through the younger's hair and turning on the blow-dryer. Now the maknae was actually falling asleep, head lolling down several times before he woke himself up and jerked himself back upright. Namjoon bit back a smile as he continued to blow dry his hair, overwhelmed by fondness. By the time his hair was dry, Jeongguk was passed out, mouth hanging open and cheek pressed against his shoulder. At the sound of the dryer turning off Jeongguk stirred, blearily opening his eyes and blinking several times to focus them.

"'M done?"

"Yeah, kiddo. Hop down and we'll go take your medicine."

Jeongguk fixed him with a groggy glare. "You didn't dry your hair."

Namjoon chuckled and winked. "I'm too tired, I guess."

The younger slid off the countertop and headbutted his hyung in the chest; evidently he was too tired to pick his head up, so he let it rest on Namjoon's sternum as he weakly hit him with a closed fist. "You're the worst, Namjoon-hyung," he mumbled, no real heat behind the words.

He just chuckled in response and wrapped an arm around his dongsaeng's shoulders, leading him out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. "Oh yes, I'm just terrible for looking after my maknae," Namjoon said as he passed Jeongguk the pills from where they were on the counter, holding up the glass to the younger's lips. Jeongguk mumbled faux-angrily under his breath as he tossed the pills into his mouth and let Namjoon give him a drink of water to wash them down. Namjoon took the glass with him as the guided the younger down the hallway and into their shared room, setting it down onto the nightstand.

Jeongguk belly-flopped onto Namjoon's bed with a big sigh, stretched out parallel to the headrest. He grumbled incoherently into the duvet and stilled completely. Namjoon huffed a laugh and slapped him lightly on the back of the thigh.

"Come on, Gguk-ah, move over so we can both fit. That's right, get under the covers." Jeongguk sighed and grumbled again at his words, lazily re-correcting himself to lay properly on the bed. Namjoon lifted up the covers for him and the maknae crawled obediently between the sheets, settling in on his side with his feet curled up in a half-fetal position. The older man climbed in after him on the opposite side of the bed, turning off the bedside lamp and pulling up the duvet over the both of them. He reached over and adjusted the covers to below Jeongguk's chin, effectively tucking him in. As he got settled in himself, Jeongguk squirmed his way to Namjoon's chest, cold nose feeling over his collar bone. The rapper intertwined a leg with the younger's, wincing at his freezing toes, and slung an arm around his slim waist. For a few seconds, it was just the quiet sound of the AC and the feeling of the maknae's chest rising and falling against his own, warm breaths puffing against his neck. Jeongguk's long locks tickled against his cheek.

"Th'nk you, hyung," Jeongguk slurred against his collarbone, sounding sleepy and content but more congested than he had previously. Namjoon just gave a low rumble and pressed a hand to his maknae's forehead. A little warm, but that was probably just from the combined heat of the shower and hairdryer.

"Of course, you don't have to thank me, Gguk." He pressed a kiss into the younger's hair. "How're you feeling, jaigya?" Namjoon's brow contorted in concern as Jeongguk shivered a little in his arms and sniffled against his t-shirt.

Jeongguk just gripped his shirt a little tighter and nosed further into the crook of his hyung's neck and mumbled, "Shh, hyung, sleepy t'me, shhh..." His breaths became a little deeper as he fell further into the grasp of sleep, the small rushes of air sending goosebumps over Namjoon's olive skin. "No m're talkin'," he murmured, sounding as if he were barely hanging onto the last dregs of consciousness.

Namjoon pressed a kiss to his forehead before relaxing back into his pillow, fingers drawing invisible pictures onto the younger's back. "M'kay, babe." Namjoon figured he had been awake long enough - it was nearing 3am and he was feeling sick, there was no point in keeping him up any later than he needed to be. He could always check up on him in the morning. Plus, Namjoon thought he had done a pretty good job of taking care of his maknae thus far - a little questioning could wait. "Goodnight, aeghi. Saranghae."

Namjoon was only barely able to hear the whispered reply of "Joon-hyung, saranghae," before the youngest promptly fell asleep in his arms.

xxx

As expected, Jeongguk was restless during the night. He never really woke up but tossed and turned all the same, occasionally making sleepy noises and sighs against his hyung's neck. He never slept particularly well when he was unwell, which was something Namjoon knew was going to happen. That being said, the older man didn't get much sleep either. He was hyper-vigilant and woke up every time his maknae so much as stirred. Namjoon was exhausted, seeing as he had several late nights in a row, but somehow he didn't seem to mind this time. As the night went on, though, Jeongguk seemed to still, back pressed up against his hyung's chest. Namjoon woke up a few hours later to light streaming through the window and Seokjin knocking at the door to wake them up up. The rapper stirred and stretched, inhaling sharply. It felt like he had hardly slept, but it was already 8am.

Jeongguk still lay quiet as the little spoon, curled up into Namjoon's stomach. His body was radiating heat and he was breathing laboriously through his mouth. Namjoon swore and peeled back the covers, pressing a hand to the younger's forehead; he found it to be hot to the touch. His tan skin shone with sweat and his face was particularly pale aside from the flush of his cheeks. Along with that, he was shivering a little in his sleep, brows contorted into a painful grimace. Namjoon dropped his hand and sighed; he knew this was going to happen.

The older man tucked his maknae back into the covers before getting up himself, sighing once more. He made sure Jeongguk was still asleep as he left the room. Seokjin was in the kitchen brewing coffee from the Kurig, watching with tired eyes as the bitter liquid slowly filled his cup. Namjoon approached him from behind and wrapped his hands around the older man's slim waist, burying his face in a broad shoulder and pressing down hard with his forehead.

Seokjin chuckled and patted his arm. "What's this, Namjoon-ah?"

"Jeonggukie's sick," he grumbled into the fabric of the singer's sleep shirt, getting a whiff of his fabric softener in the process. Seokjin always smelled so nice. The younger man could feel the other craning his head to look at him so Namjoon picked his head up and rested his chin on his shoulder instead, meeting Seokjin's gaze. "It came on last night," Namjoon sighed. "He was restless all night and when I woke up he was running a fever."

Seokjin maneuvered out of his arms, turning around to face his dongsaeng and tracing the pads of his thumbs over Namjoon's eye-bags with a concerned crease in his brow. "Are you sure you didn't get it, too? You look awful, jaigya. You're pale."

"No, hyung, I feel fine. Maknae-ah just kept me up with all his tossing and turning."

Seokjin got a smug look on his face, smirking.

"What?" Namjoon deadpanned. He was too tired for this.

"Well," Seokjin drawled. "You're usually such a heavy sleeper. Worried about our youngest, are you?"

Namjoon felt his ears go hot with embarrassment. What's the deal with people, first Sejin, now Seokjin was teasing him? Unbelievable. "With all due respect hyung, shut up. Just because I don't show it as much as you do I actually do care about my maknae," Namjoon spat, pushing away against his hyung's chest and trying to walk past him, annoyed. Seokjin's squeaky laughter followed him and he was stopped by the older man catching his wrist.

"I'm just kidding Joonie, don't get so defensive," he giggled, drawing the younger back into a hug.

Namjoon sighed and buried his face again in Seokjin's shoulder. "Maybe don't tease me then," he grumbled, but the heat was gone.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Seokjin stroked his back and laughed one more time. "Have you checked his temperature yet?"

"Not yet. He's still sleeping."

Seokjin hummed, planting a kiss in Namjoon's bed head before pulling away.

"I'll go get the thermometer. Will you wake him up for me?"

"Sure, hyung." Namjoon started down the hallway, slowly creaking the door open and slipping into his and Jeongguk's shared bedroom. The maknae was exactly where he had left him, turned away from the door curled up on his side. Even though he was about to wake the younger man up anyways, the rapper tiptoed around the bed and kneeled next to his pillow as quietly as he could. Jeongguk's face was still scrunched up and tense with pain, a flush high on his cheeks. His hair and shirt were saturated with sweat. Namjoon reached up with his hand and smoothed over the distressed wrinkles on his forehead; his face relaxed after a few seconds, melting into a neutral expression. His face was hot to the touch and Namjoon's fingers came away damp.

"Jeonggukie," Namjoon murmured, reaching over to grasp his maknae's shoulder gently. "Aghi. It's time to wake up, jaigya." The younger stirred, eyebrows immediately scrunching up again as he fought against waking consciousness and the pain he obviously felt. Namjoon shushed him gently, cupping the side of his face with a large hand and rubbing his thumb over his temple. "I know, babe, wake up for just a few minutes."

Jeongguk blearily opened his eyes and immediately winced, making a pitiful noise of pain from the back of his throat and curling up into a tighter ball. He squeezed his eyes closed and buried his face in his pillow.

"Aigoo, I know, I know it hurts Ggukkie." Namjoon moved from stoking his forehead to running his fingers through his damp hair, something he knew Jeongguk had a soft spot for. "Seokjinnie-hyung is bringing you a thermometer and then we'll get back to sleep, okay?"

Jeongguk whined weakly, voice gravelly from a combination of sleep and sickness, looking up from his pillow to gaze at his hyung pitifully. His eyes were red and glassy and tired, framed by the high spots of fever-induced color on his cheeks. Jeongguk's face screwed up, and for a horrifying second Namjoon was sure he was about to start crying. He pitched forward with a sneeze instead, following it up with a few rattling coughs. Whimpering, he reached up to hold his head in his hands as though the movement had aggravated a headache. The older man frowned and leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead before settling himself on the edge of the bed, running his hand over his dongsaeng's back in soothing strokes.

"How're you feeling, babe?"

Jeongguk just grunted and gently placed his forearm over his eyes to block out the light from the window. "Bad," he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

"Tell hyung what's hurting," Namjoon prompted, smoothing out the wrinkles of his maknae's shirt over his side.

Jeongguk didn't move his arm as he answered. "My head n' my body are aching. It's cold."

"I know, aghi. Anything else? Is your throat bothering you?"

The singer just slowly shook his head before once again going still, arching his back against Namjoon's touch. He could feel the younger's fever through his shirt. He was satisfied that the younger's throat wasn't hurting him, though; a hoarse voice was an idol's worst nightmare.

Jeongguk reached back with his free hand and pulled his shirt up to expose his back, reaching for Namjoon's hand to press it into his skin. "Push harder, hyung. Please," he murmured, pushing with more force against Namjoon's hand, digging it into his ribs.

Namjoon took the hint and began to massage his back with the heel of his palm; Jeongguk shivered under his touch, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. He was probably cold and skin most likely sensitive, but wanted skin-on-skin contact anyways. His skin was moist and sticky from perspiration, but Namjoon bore the discomfort and carried on.

"Does that help with the pain Jeonggukkie?"

The maknae nodded underneath his forearm, releasing Namjoon's wrist and draping his arm back around his waist. "It feels good, hyung."

Namjoon adjusted his position on the bed for a better reach, kneading the palms of his hands into Jeongguk's feverish skin, moving from his shoulders down to his calves. Jeongguk mewled under the touch, arching his back and wincing but not pushing his hyung away. He always got awful aches when he was feverish and Namjoon seemed to know just how to get rid of them. The maknae tried to keep as still as possible, pressing his forearm against his eyes hard to try and reduce the pain.

A soft knock resounded on the door before Seokjin poked his head in, frowning softly when his eyes drifted to their youngest member. Jeongguk was shivering and trying his hardest not to let small noises of pain slip through his gritted teeth as Namjoon worked against his tight, painful muscles. The skin of his face was flushed and damp with perspiration - even from across the dim room the mat-hyung could see the rivulets of sweat trailing down his neck. Namjoon turned around, hands still kneading against Jeongguk's thighs, and met Seokjin's eyes with the same concerned look.

Seokjin looked back to the maknae and closed the door behind him, walking around and dumping his handful of medical supplies on the bedside table, keeping only the thermometer.

"Oh, honey," he murmured. "You must be feeling awful. I'm sorry, jaigya." Seokjin passed his fingers through Jeongguk's damp, sleep-tousled hair.

Jeongguk peeped out from under his arm and met Seokjin's gaze. "Good morning, hyung." His voice was strained and congested and the older man winced at the sound of it. He pursed his lips and planted a kiss on the maknae's forehead.

"My Jeonggukie, always so polite. Good morning to you too, baby. Let's get you some medicine and some food so you can get back to sleep okay?"

"Okay," Jeongguk mumbled, struggling to push himself up to sit against the headboard. Namjoon immediately moved to help him up, hoisting him up by the armpits until he was comfortably upright. The younger man winced as soon as he was sitting up, grinding his palm against his eye to try and ease the headache. He obediently opened his lips for the thermometer, holding it underneath his tongue until it beeped. 101.9.

"He wasn't very bad last night at all, hyung, I was surprised when I woke up this morning," Namjoon fretted, chewing his lip.

"You and me both, Joonie. We'll fix him right up though, aghi, don't worry too much," Seokjin said, putting the thermometer down on the bedside table and unscrewing the lid to the fever reducers, shaking a few out onto his palm.

Namjoon was about to respond when Jeongguk's face screwed up again for the second time that morning. His eyes got a far-off look as they glazed over, breath hitching. His already-pink nose twitched and nostrils flared, trembling. He brought his hands up where they paused, hovering just a few inches away from his face.

"Hih..."

Jeongguk squeezed his watering eyes shut, letting out an involuntary whimper as the sneeze refused to leave his body. The singer's mouth hung open just slightly as his breathing hitched again, once, twice, three times, nostrils flared and nose twitching.

"Hih... Hh... Hih.h..! Hihtshu! Hi'tshh!" His body lurched forward as he caught the sneezes in his cupped hands. Seokjin quietly blessed him and rubbed his back. Jeongguk let out a little groan as he leaned back slowly, dropping his hands and scrunching his face up in pain. The sneezing hadn't done much to help his headache.

"Oh, baby, I know," Seokjin cooed, running his thumbs over the distressed lines in the younger's face. Namjoon hopped up from the bed and drew the blinds, engulfing the room in a pleasant darkness. Jeongguk visibly relaxed at the abscence of light, sighing and melting back into the headboard. "Here, Ggukkie, take these and drink half the glass." The older singer pressed the pills into the maknae's hand and held the glass of water he had brought along near his lips. Obediently, Jeongguk popped the pills into his mouth and drank from the cool glass of water as Seokjin put it to his lips. Surprisingly, the younger drained the whole thing - both of his hyungs were pleasantly surprised.

"Good job, babe," Namjoon praised, kissing him on the cheek and patting him gently on the head. Jeongguk made a satisfied noise low in his throat, eyes already closed and lolling down to his shoulder.

"That's my maknae," Seokjin smiled, patting the younger on the shoulder before turning to Namjoon. "I'll finish making his breakfast and leave it in the microwave. I think it's fine if you let him sleep for another few hours. Watch over him, okay?"

Namjoon fixed his eyes on the younger who was blissfully dozing by that point, head lolling down to his chest. "I will hyung."

Seokjin kissed the maknae on the top of his head before leaving the room, going to wake the rest of the members and get them to get ready as quietly as they could (if they could at all, that lively bunch...).

"C'mere, Jeonggukkie," Namjoon muttered, going around to his side of the bed and crawling under the covers, holding his arms out for the younger to crawl into. Jeongguk didn't miss a beat, drowsily slouching down and scooting over until he was wrapped up in the older's arms. He nosed forward until his warm forehead was pressed square against his hyung's cheek. Jeongguk intertwined a leg with the older man's, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close as he shivered; he must have been freezing cold. Tucking the blanket securely underneath his dongsaeng's chin, Namjoon pulled him as close as he was able. The younger's breathing was already slow and even, already asleep. Namjoon laughed silently and pressed a kiss to his forehead, letting his eyes drift shut as well.

“Saranghae.”

There were definitely worse ways to spend the day, he thought.

#bts snz #snz #snz fic #snzfic #bts sickfic

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