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mrpenguinpants · 1 year

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Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs

— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.

— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...

Tartaglia

While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!

By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.

It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.

It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.

As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.

"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"

Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.

"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"

He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.

"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.

"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.

Kaveh

You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.

He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.

So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.

It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.

It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.

He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.

"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.

"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.

"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.

"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.

"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.

Ayato

To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.

It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.

It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.

Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.

He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.

If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.

There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.

"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.

"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.

"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.

"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."

"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."

"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.

"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"

"Only because you're here."

Alhaitham

You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.

To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.

No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.

Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.

It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.

As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.

"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.

"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.

"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.

"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.

Dottore

You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.

You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.

You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.

Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.

You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.

You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.

The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.

"Where have you been?"

For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.

"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.

"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.

"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.

"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"

He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.

"As if you would have anywhere to go."

———

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ashthemadwriter-archived · 1 year

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Me & my hubby!

—When you accidentally introduce your boyfriend as your husband

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Jouno X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Format: Drabble

Warnings: Suggestive content in Dazai's

Word Count: 1.6K

A/n: This is very rushed so sorry if its not well written

↳Osamu Dazai

As the door of the fitting room opened, your boyfriend came into sight. The white tuxedo hugged his slim frame perfectly, making his tall figure stand out even more. The color had given him an elegant look, which nearly made you wonder if he was the playful guy you were dating.

Dazai smirked as he picked up on your stun and flashed you a cheeky smirk. "Like what you see, Bella? You're staring a little too hard you know~"

Suddenly the fitting room seemed like the perfect place to show him how much you actually liked his new look. It didn't matter if you made a mess out of the tux, since you were about to buy it anyway.

"Oh Osamu... You should wear white more often"

"Everything alright here?"

The salesclerk was checking up on you with a warm smile.

"Ah yes! We would like to buy this one. It looks gorgeous on my husband"

You didn't exactly pay attention to your words, but seeing Dazai's eyebrows jump in surprise made you question your statement, and...

Oh.

Anxiety washed over you as you weren't exactly unfamiliar with your partner's commitment issues, but much to your surprise, Dazai wasn't upset nor terrified; his huge ass grin was showing off his joy and flatter.

"I'm her husband!"

For god's sake.

The salesclerk on the other hand was looking at you oddly, probably questioning her life choices.

"Ah, ok. Well then would you mind taking the tuxedo off? I'll wrap it up for you"

A snicker left your boyfriend's lips as he pulled you close by your waist. "Sure, but I might need my wife's help to take my clothes off. Will you be kind enough to help me out, Anata?"

"Oh shut up already!"

↳Chuuya Nakahara

One of the benefits of working at the same organization was that when your boyfriend had a mission overseas, you could go with him.

You had just arrived to your hotel after a five hour flight, which made you tired as hell since you couldn't sleep on the airplane. Although that wasn't enough to lessen your excitement for going on what could be some kind of a trip after you finish the job.

"Have you made a reservation beforehand ma'am?"

"No, it was kind of rushed. Would that be a problem?"

The receptionist shook his head to the side. "Not at all. Lucky for you, we still have some rooms available"

The door of the hotel opened and Chuuya came in, approaching you with your luggage in his hand. You looked back at the receptionist. "Great! Then I'd like a room for two people. We're going to be here for a while since my husband needs to take care of some stuff from work; right, honey?"

Chuuya froze in the spot and a light shade of crimson appeared on his cheeks. This was definitely unexpected. It made him feel butterflies in his stomach in a good way and somehow questioned all the logic that made him avoid thinking about the future of your relationship.

"Well your husband doesn't seem to be sure" The receptionist commented in a humorous way. "Alright then, here's your key"

On the way to your room there was a silence that couldn't exactly be marked as "uncomfortable". Chuuya was wearing a warm smile yet so drowned in his thoughts that you refused to take him out of his zone. However, when you reached the door, he suddenly lifted you up, making you suddenly gasp and gaze at him with astonishment.

"What are you doing?"

"What a good husband is supposed to do"

The familiar beam was back on his face.

"I'm carrying my wife to our shared hotel room"

↳Ranpo Edogawa

"Ranpo! You can't eat this whole cake!"

Going to the bakery had become some sort of tradition since you and your boyfriend started dating. You went there every afternoon, tasted the new pastries, you lectured him to not get carried away and he stopped you by shoving a cookie in your mouth. That was pretty much repetitive, except that something extra was coming along today.

"I can and I will. That's why it's called sample y/n" He munched on his cheesecake, delighted by the sweet taste lingering in his mouth.

"Well Mr. detective, It's a sample so you should just take one bite and then move on! If you like it then just buy one!"

The baker chuckled and walked toward you. She knew you since you were regulars there, and she had enough respect for the president to not throw a tantrum over a few pieces of cake. "It's alright Miss y/n. Let the man eat his sweets"

"You don't understand ma'am! My husband eats way too much sweets and that's not healthy at all! What if he comes down with diabetes or something?!"

Ranpo stopped chewing for a brief second and looked at you from the corner of his eye. The lady on the other hand, was more excited than shocked. "You got married? Oh! Congratulations! It's nice to know that Mr. Ranpo has finally settled down!"

You didn't know if you should correct yourself or hide your red cheeks. "I— I meant that— " "Please have some more cake! They're on the house. Consider them a gift from me"

As she left you alone, you finally turned to your boyfriend to see his reaction, which was exactly the way you expected it to be; smug and playful. "Ah, I went into this marriage with so much hope"

"Oh grow up!"

↳Fyodor Dostoevsky

"How's your steak honey?" You asked, looking at your boyfriend with curiosity. He had been taking bites reluctantly, swallowing without actually tasting the meat.

"It's burnt to a crisp, even though I ordered it medium rare" He gently wiped his mouth with the napkin, placing the cutlery on the table. You gave the dish a once over and flagged the waiter down. After a while he approached your table. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"

"Yes. My husband ordered his steak medium rare and as you can see, this is not what he asked for"

My... Husband?

"Eh, so... He'd like his steak... Medium rare... Please?" Awkwardness was hitting you and you really didn't want to be alone with Fyodor right now, but unfortunately, you were on a date and there were no way to escape from it.

The waiter excused himself after apologizing and taking the plate back to the kitchen. He did find your sudden change of expression odd, but he didn't say anything since he wasn't asking for less tip. However, Fyodor was completely ready to bring it up. You could tell that based on his grin, but you were doing your best not to face him at that moment.

Not that it was enough to stop him.

"How's your pasta Mrs. Dostoevsky?" "Fedya! Stop!"

↳Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

Getting sick on valentine's day was not originally your plan, but at least you got to visit the doctor together. You were now waiting for the secretary to call your names.

"How long should we wait?"

Covering your mouth with a tissue, you lightly coughed. "Anytime now. All the people ahead of us went inside"

Akutagawa glanced at the door of the doctor's office and nodded. He had made a reservation at your favorite restaurant today and was planning to take you to some place nice afterwards, get on one knee and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him, but you suddenly got sick. It's not like he could be mad at you. It was not your fault, but... It seemed like the perfect opportunity. The perfect day for a memorable gesture...

"Mrs. Akutagawa! You're up"

Akutagawa.

She was referring to you, with his last name.

You had introduced yourself as Akutagawa. He was sure you did it accidentally since your face was redder than a tomato now, but still, he never thought hearing it would feel so... special.

The raven-haired man held your hand and leaded you to the doctors office, a ghost of a smile spread on his face. He might've lost the chance to propose now, but it's not the end of the world. You're stuck with him and not going anywhere, so he would try to make the perfect plan for a perfect proposal, for the perfect girl.

↳Saigiku Jouno

"Are you sure this is the store?" Your boyfriend crossed his arms.

"For the thousandth time! Yes!" "Well, you were also sure that you knew my size but it turns out you were wrong" "Ugh! Let's just get inside!"

Thanks to his job, Jouno was always on endless missions and barely had time to rest, let alone go shopping. You this T-shirt when you were walking by and you just couldn't help but to imagine your boyfriend in it. It might've cheered him up if it was his size.

The clerk recognized you the second you set foot in the store. "Oh hi ma'am! Welcome back!"

"Hi Amaya. Thank you. So, remember how I was not sure if the T-shirt was my boyfriend's size?"

She only nodded with a forced smile, because how could she forgot? You spent fifteen minutes staring at the T-shirt, wondering if it would fit him.

"Well, it wasn't" Jouno's smile got wider and you sighed. "Yeah yeah, I admit it. I don't know what size is suitable for my husband. I'm the worst partner ever. Can we please change this one and leave?"

"I don't understand ma'am"

For real? You just can't take a break.

"I'm saying that the T-shirt was too big for him!" "Yeah I got that, but I thought he was your boyfriend?" "What do you mean you— oh!"

No.

No no no no no no no no.

Jouno's smirk was still on, and now with a little smugness. He was clearly enjoying himself.

"If this is your way of proposing, it's really lame" "Oh shut up you big jerk!"

Tag List:

@pussydrunkfyodor @silverbladexyz @h8kolya @gettinshiggywithit @exhausted-doll @echo28 @rosasensibles @nekokinax @paperllama @the-foreigner @arsonklee @fayenfim @circinuus @c4xcocoa @asqmi @blueberry-writer @ryokuryuu @ayladove @sinfullysophiastrange @sugarcherryemo @whossuzy @sigmazcasino @linn-a-a @uottani @spiritis-rambles @glitch-karma @ilovechuuyaa

Want to be added to my bsd tag list?

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themissinghand · 3 months

Text

Solo Leveling: Tease

Requested by: @666veiniklaas

Summary: In which Jinwoo likes every part of you, and he hates to share what’s his.

Or, you finally take revenge on Jinwoo for teasing you a little too much.

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x M! Reader

Note: For some reason I lost your request in my inbox, but luckily I already started working on it in my drafts.

Anyways, not a bother at all! The cat drawing was so cute! Love how you showed my dark eye circles so accurately XD

This inspired me to write a....sexier version of Jinwoo. Hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Some sexual tension and sensual touching, suggestive themes! Nothing beyond that, unless your imagination takes you there-

★・・・・・・★

Jinwoo is an asshole, and he knows because his boyfriend tells him too many times.

“Hey (Y/N).” Jinwoo called out, before noticing you hunched over your laptop in his hoodie, that was clearly too big for you. He smirks before walking behind you and tapping you on the shoulder.

“What? I’m in the middle of a game right now!” He leans down and lets his wet hair touch your skin. He feels you flinch before finally turning your attention to him.

“Do you know where my boxers-”

“What the f-it’s in the drawer!” Like a cat, Jinwoo watches his boyfriend malfunction (checking him out) with red cheeks, before screeching and dashing out of their shared bedroom.

It’s adorable, seeing you throwing random items at him to cover himself up, or when you run away anytime you see him naked.

But he knows you like what you see. Maybe, you’re just too shy or prideful to admit it.

(Jinwoo knows it, after all, he remembers you giving ideas to his Shadow Soldiers when building sculptures of him in his Shadow Realm - he’ll never let you live that down)

You’re like a cat.

A cat thief that likes to steal his hoodies, and wear comfy clothes. Jinwoo didn’t mind it, after all, everytime he hugged you, he felt like he was hugging a big marshmallow cat.

Sometimes, Jinwoo would come by and scoop you up in princess carry, and like a cat, you would fight him and try to get out. But that never works, as Jinwoo was a S-Class hunter for God’s sake!

“Beru! Help me!” You cried for Beru, who sheepishly looked back and forth between Jinwoo and you. But could only disappear in Jinwoo’s shadow when His Liege gave him a “I dare you” look.

In the end, his kitty would give up and grumpily cuddle in his arms until Jinwoo decided to let him go.

It’s fun teasing you and watching you run away from him. It’s also a great way to get your attention.

For example, Jinwoo found a great way to wake you up.

“Jinwoo…? What time is it?” Jinwoo watches his little kitty do a little stretch in his arms, clearly not awake yet.

“It’s time to get up.” He pressed a kiss to your palms, before cheekily bringing your hand to his bare chest.

“Wha-” In the next second, you broke out of his hold and slammed your back to the wall.

“Like what you see?” Jinwoo leans on his arm, purposefully showing off his toned body, but by then you were already out of the room and screaming profanities at him.

“I swear to God Jinwoo! I will get back at you for this!”

Jinwoo laughed as he saw his marshmallow cat angrily stomp to the bathroom.

“Oh yea? I like to see you try!”

Jinwoo regrets challenging you.

It was like any other day in the Shadow Realm, Jinwoo was training with his Shadow Soldiers until he heard a call from Beru.

“My Liege! His Highness is-” Without another moment of hesitation, Jinwoo teleported back to his house and worriedly rushed to the bedroom where Beru was at.

“(Y/N)! Are you okay-” Jinwoo froze when he saw your figure. His oversized hoodie no longer to be seen.

“Oh hey Jinwoo.”

Your quiet seductive voice sent a wave through him and Jinwoo even let Beru quickly slip away despite being part of the whole farce. But Jinwoo couldn’t be angry at you, as he was too smitten with your appearance.

His shadows' excited clammer was ignored.

A slim fitted black top with fishnet sleeves and matching black tights. Your collarbone, flat stomach, and even hip bone was exposed, making him unconsciously gulp.

The fabric was almost transparent, as if teasing Jinwoo and letting his imagination to go wild.

You looked so good right now, and Jinwoo feels himself slowly losing control-

“I’m going out.”

“Where? Looking like that?” Jinwoo flinched when he felt that he sounded a little too aggressive, but he really can’t let anyone see you looking so good.

You had the audacity to look confused.

“Nightclub, Liu Zhigang invited me out.” A cheeky little smirk rose to your lips before playing with the collar on your neck.

“How do I look?”

In the next moment, you were swept off your feet and slammed onto the bed, but this time, you weren’t backing off.

“(Y/N), is this what you mean by getting back at me?”

“I don’t know what you mean-” Jinwoo dived for the side of your neck and felt you squirm.

“‘Cause it working. Your plan.” Inhaling deeply, Jinwoo feels dizzy, did you even put on cologne?

Even though he knows that this was all part of your plan to get back at him for teasing you so often, the fact that you mentioned another man’s name makes him mad.

What if you actually did it for someone else?

Just imagining you with Liu Zhigang and other men-

“Hey Jinwoo, calm down-”

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

Jinwoo pressed a couple of kisses to your neck, and then left a trail of marks down to your shoulders. He peaks up, seeing your face bright red, but looking directly at him.

Even more surprising, Jinwoo felt your fingers in his hair, before cupping his face and kissing him.

“I know.” You licked your lips, and tugged on your top, revealing more skin.

“So hurry up and take me, My Liege.”

That was all you had to say to make him lose control, and devour.

Let’s just say that the shadows smartly decided to not interfere and watch the premise far, far away from the bedroom.

Beru on the other hand was just happy that he wasn’t the one being peppered with kisses this time.

The next morning was a mess. Jinwoo went back to being an asshole, not because he wanted to tease you, but also because he didn’t mind being an asshole for you to dress up like that again.

Also, Jinwoo eventually figured out that it was not just Beru in this, but Bellion and Igris too. Apparently, it was their chance to show off their knowledge of their master’s preferences, and also give you some armour…though Jinwoo doubts you would wear it ever again.

Not if he had anything to say to that though.

#manhwa #solo leveling spoilers #solo leveling fic #solo leveling headcanons #solo leveling #sung jin woo x reader #sung jin woo #sung jin woo x male reader #x male reader #male reader #bellion #beru #shadow soldiers #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x reader

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tlouadditc · 9 months

Text

screw the cops!!

cop!ellabs x dealer!reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut with plot, mentions of drugs [marijuana], cop!ellabs, dealer!reader, a lil bit of knifeplay, dom!ellabs, sub!reader, use of y/n, reader gets cut a lil bit oops!, probably more but i cant think of it rn

last minute a/n: this was another ask i forgot to put under the question ☹️ anyway thank u for the ask!!

[10:06 pm]

MY FAV ;): heyyy u got an 8th?? i can pick up at the library in 15 :)

you read the text, grumbling as you get up from your couch. you quickly shoot back:

YOU: lmk when ur there

it was supposed to be an off-day; sit in your dorm, watch tv, maybe have someone over, but no. everyone needed your shit at all times. she's lucky she's your favorite -- otherwise you would've told her to fuck off.

locking your door behind you, you get in your car and pull out of your driveway. as you glide through the gentle darkness, you feel random anxiety, like something bad is happening. it could be the lack of sleep. it could be the upcoming deadline you haven't started. it could also be the fact the entire campus is being searched because some dumbass freshman left his- no, sorry, YOUR- weed in his dorm and got the cops called. he didn't snitch luckily; he knows you would've gotten him killed if he did. but now there's a patrol going on until they find who's distributing. it's not like you wanted to live this life- you barely graduated high school, getting a small scholarship to a local college. the debt hit you, parents refused to help you anymore because you're an adult, blah blah blah blah. you ended up here to finally make a stable income and not have to chose between being warm or being fed consistently.

the sob story makes you cringe, snapping back into reality as you park in a spot by the front of the campus library. you pull out your phone and send:

YOU: here. wya

3 bubbles quickly pop up, written with a response:

MY FAV ;): kk coming out now

as you read the text, you hear the front doors swing open and a tall, slim figure gets larger as it comes closer. as she steps into the streetlight, you see her; sophomore dina. her long, onyx hair dances down her back as she comes closer to your car. she rests one arm on your window, other arm reaching into her pocket. she pulls out 35 bucks, tilting her head to the side slightly and smirking. you hand her a small baggie and take the bills out of her hand, shoving it into your pocket. "you're the best," she gushed, taking her arm off your window. she starts to turn to walk back to the library when she says, "oh, by the way, gave my friend your number."

you freeze, looking up at her in pure horror. "you what?"

"okay, chill, she's cool," she quickly explains, putting a hand on her hip in annoyance.

you roll your eyes, "the entire campus is getting fucking raided, for god's sake. cmon, dina."

"so, what? not everyone's a dumbass like that kid was."

you sigh. you guess she's right. plus, more business for you in the long run. she gives some information about this girl; her names ellie. she's a sophomore majoring in astrophysics who transferred from another school in jackson. around 5'5, auburn hair, science nerd. "pretty sure she's gay, too," dina winks.

you roll your eyes once more before pulling out and returning home. as soon as you unlock the door and step in, you check your other phone, an unknown number's texts sitting on the lock screen.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER]: hii this is y/n right?

[UNKNOWN NUMBER]: dina gave me ur number

gotta be ellie, you think to yourself. kinda cute. you don't respond; you hate small talk. no point in trying to get to know each other if you already know what they want. you put your phone down and start to get ready for bed.

an hour later, you get out of your shower and into comfy clothes. as you get into your freshly made bed, your other phone buzzes. you would usually ignore it, but you remember; debate checking the message or leaving it alone until tomorrow. eventually, curiosity gets the best of you and you check your phone. you groan as you read the message:

[11:37pm]

EL: i know its late but can u drop off? i need it :(

goddamnit, leave me alone!

you type up some message along the lines of 'im off today, ask tomorrow bitch,' but decide to be nice. you don't know why, but you only respond with the following:

YOU: off today. ask tmr

3 dots in a bubble move swiftly as a response pops up on your screen:

EL: pleaaaaase itll be quick

you sigh. she's not gonna let up; just like dina.

YOU: fine. ill b at the library.

she hearts your message as you throw on some sweatpants and grab your keys. you go on the same drive but you feel no anxiety this time. it's a newbie, for god's sake- she's the one who's probably nervous. you even put on some music this time, drake lowly lulling in your vehicle. you pull up, same spot as earlier, and you turn down your music. you go to text her, but the doors open before you can press a letter. she's just as dina described- until she gets up to your window. her scattered freckles complimented her bright, emerald eyes. her friendly expression made you soft under her gaze. you didn't realized she was talking for a while until she whispered, "uh... hello?"

"what?" you said, clearly perplexed. she smiled as you remembered what you're there for. she hands you 25 bucks as you place the baggie in her free hand. she lets out a silent "thanks" before you get ready to drive back home.

"uh, actually," she suddenly blurted out, catching your attention. she seemed nervous, like she had something to say, but she was scared of the outcome. "do you mind.. uh.. giving me a ride back home? i mean i walked down here and it's dark so-"

"hop in," you interrupted. it was pretty dark and you wouldn't want patrol on her ass about being out by herself, so you decided to get it over with. she pranced around to the passengers side and practically jumped in.

the ride to her dorm was quiet. ellie was on her phone the entire time; you assumed it was her roommate asking her where she's at. there was a bit of tension you could feel in the air; what type? you couldn't answer that.

coming to a stop at the entrance of her dormitory, she thanked you once again before you prepared to go home yourself.

"you could stay the night," she mumbled, fumbling with the bag in hand.

"what? no- no, i can't do that," you answered. you weren't against staying over, but... going home with someone you literally met an hour ago? absolutely not.

"jus' c'mon. it's late," she insisted, biting her lip anxiously. "plus, i owe you." you sight and give in, turning off the engine and ignition before grabbing your keys and phone and joining her on the walkway. she smiled politely and led you to her dorm.

the entire time you were walking with her, you assessed her appearance in clearer light. her hair was a shaggy cut, parted to the side and tucked behind her ears even though some stray strands still stood. her eyes were welcoming and friendly, giving you a warm feeling of hope. she had a tattoo on her right arm; a fern and a small butterfly. you debate asking her the meaning, but decide against it.

you snap out of your trance when you make it to her door. she unlocks the door and gently pushes it in, leaving room for you to step inside. "come in!"

you take 3 steps inside before you're pushed to the ground and pinned by strong, rough hands. "what the fuc- hey!" you start to shout. you squirm, hopelessly attempting to be freed from the tight grasp of what you thought was a male officer.

"you're under arrest," an unfamiliar, feminine voice states, "for possession and distribution of marijuana. you have the right to remain silent at this time." you see ellie's shoes standing in front of you, silently taunting you as you're handcuffed.

fuck, i should've never trusted her.

you're patted down and escorted to an unmarked car, parked around 30 feet away from your car. the unfamiliar figure is a tall, built woman with a long, blonde braid swinging down her back. her calloused hand grips you tightly as you're being walked. once you reach the vehicle, you're thrown into the back and the door slams in your face. you don't argue or protest; you were caught after one fuck up.

"didn't expect to catch her so easily," ellie brags, slightly looking back at you. you scowl at her, feeling betrayed by not only ellie, but dina, too. she had [hopefully] unknowingly helped them ruin your life. you were for sure not going to be able to finish college now. you wouldn't be able to get a job nice enough to stabilize your life. not to mention the possibility for 5 years of jail time and fees. it all made your head hurt. tears weld up in your eyes as you started to really let reality sink in.

"aw, she's crying," the blonde officer teased, looking at you through the rear-view mirror. you blinked back the tears before spitting out, "fuck you."

"the fuck you just say to me?"

"you heard me; fuck. you."

you could see her jaw clench, her bone well-defined under her skin. "oh, i know you wanna fuck me." a snicker was heard from the auburn girl.

the hell??

it was a weird response, but you decided to play into it. you're already being sent to jail; why not have fun?

"you wouldn't do anything about it if i wanted to anyway."

you saw the blonde's eyes go wide and her jaw drop with disbelief, looking over at her partner. ellie seemed calm, but intrigued by the situation. it was silent, but the way their eyes met was like they were talking through eye contact. ellie tilts her head towards you, signaling something to the other officer. as if she could read her mind, the blonde nods and pulls over to an abandoned alleyway.

"what's going on?" you question, attempting to hide the fear in your voice, but failing miserably. the blonde got out of the car and slammed the door shut as ellie simply answered, "you said we wouldn't do anything, hm?"

a shiver went down your spine as the door to your right opened, the blonde hopping in as you scooted all the way to your left.

"uh-uh, come here," she demanded as her hand wrapped around your neck and dragged you back to her. at this moment, your back rests against her toned thighs, handcuffed hands under your ass, legs laying on the seat.

"you wanna be disrespectful to me and my partner?" she jerks your head up, making you look at her. her sharp features take up your vision as she looks down at you with dark eyes. "you think you were just gonna get away with that? nuh-uh, not on my watch." you take your gaze off her face to read her badge, which reads "ABBY ANDERSON".

you're so focused on abby that you don'r realize ellie is on the other side of you, watching you and abby interact. you feel a sharp object on your jeans, scoring against the material. your head jerks down to see ellie running a pocketknife over your clothed cunt, fear and adrenaline running through you all at once. your breathing picks up speed as she cuts through your jeans, making a hole in the crotch. abby chuckles at your reaction, caressing your face as she coos, "not so tough now, huh?"

you're too caught up in looking at ellie's actions to respond. she puts the knife down, letting a feeling of relief wash over you. she mutters a "fuck it" before placing both hands on either side of the hole she made and ripping your jeans. you gasp, anxiety filling you once more. she smirks up at you, grabbing her knife and running it over your barely covered pussy. she loves the way you try to get away from her knife, silent cries as she gets closer to the meat of your thigh. she slightly cuts into you, small drops of blood racing down your inner thigh. you wince in pain, turning back to abby. "shh, it's okay," she reassures, kissing your sweaty forehead. "just a little cut. you're okay." you feel ellie's warm tongue running over the wound, collecting the red liquid. she kisses near your core, green eyes piercing into you before whispering, "so sweet" and smiling. abby gently kisses you, drawing your attention away from your cut to her and only her. she taps her pointer finger on your chin and whispers "open up", which you obey to. her lips purse together, gathering the liquid in her mouth before a ball of saliva drops into your mouth and onto your tongue. "swallow," she commands, and you close your mouth and swallow it, feeling it slip down your throat. she smiles, tapping your cheek lightly as she praises you. "good girl. she's doing so well, isn't she, el?"

ellie hums, hyper-focused on your pooling pussy. "so wet," she says in awe, "all this gets you off, doesn't it?"

you're oh so needy, cunt begging to be touched in any form. you nod ferociously, whining for any friction on your puffy clit. "you want it, yea? beg for it."

"p-please, ill do anything, just fuck me- ohmygod-" you babble, hips bucking up into ellie's face. she chuckles before looking up to abby, meeting her gaze. "she's been so good for us. give her a lil' reward."

with that, ellie cuts your underwear with one swift movement, completely exposing your pussy to her. she gasps at the sight, glistening skin in the low light. she whispers a spew of curses, spreading you apart as abby kisses you passionately. you moan into the kiss as ellie rubs your bud with her thumb. your noises go straight to her core, making her slightly whimper. she lays a flat tongue on your core, soaking up all of your juices on the pink muscle. abby wraps a firm hand around your throat, restricting airflow enough to make you completely feel ellie on you.

"fuck- oh, my god-" you cry, tears welling up in your eyes once more. the feeling is too much; abby kissing you, ellie eating you out- everything is overstimulating you. ellie smiles against your pussy, sucking on your clit while shoving two fingers in you. you whine and squirm away from her, but her other hand keeps you in place.

"i'm gonna- m'cumming- !!" you breathe, clenching around ellie's long fingers. abby praises you through it; "oh, so good for us, baby." "cum all over her fingers f'me, yes." small kisses are planted on your face once again, soothing you through your orgasm. ellie slowly takes her fingers out with a pop! before shoving one glistening finger into her mouth. she moans at the taste of you, maintaining eye contact with you. "shit, so sweet," she murmurs, looking over at abby. "wanna taste?"

"of course," abby says slyly, glancing over at you before sucking on ellie's middle finger, completely cleaning it off. she moans at the taste, finally letting ellie's middle finger go after a couple of seconds. she pulls you into another sloppy, heated kiss, making you taste yourself on her tongue.

"such a sweet thing," she coos, wiping your face. "too bad we gotta take you in now."

"can't let me off with a warning?"

"we would, but we'd be here for much longer and you'd be more bruised up." abby frowns in a mocking manner.

"so you're taking me in with no pants or underwear?"

"yup. don't underestimate us and, more importantly, don't sell drugs."

a/n: this was so fun to write omg ... part 2 will be coming me thinks

#tlouadditc #abby anderson smut #ellie williams smut #the last of us smut #tlou fic #abby anderson #ellie williams #ellabs #ellabs smut #ellabs x reader #lesbian

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https-furina · 4 months

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“your order is complete!” this order is for @jingyuansbird:

“heyo heyo ✌🏾 congrats on 500! so, for my order, it'll be for alhaitham, size medium, with a cappuccino, soy milk, and foam please, and thank you!!!”

alhaitham x gn!reader | fluff, college!au + established relationship | 1.1k words notes. thank you so much !! i hope you enjoy your order (it should be mentioned that alhaitham despite being a previous main of mine is not one of my strong suits so i apologise if it's bad...) <3

thirsty? see our café menu before you order! | order receipts

with finals week drawing ever closer, it can sometimes feel like you're going insane with the repetitive revision and those god awful prep talks from your professors but adding onto that to make things worse, the most (seemingly) sane person in your circle really doesn't help the looming feeling of insanity. he seems to have no qualms with the endless academic revision thrown onto you for the sake of grades, his head always buried deep in a textbook that keeps him occupied whilst your friend circle do what they're best at… procrastinating.

"i'm really starting to think college isn't worth it," you mumble, highlighting another line in your notes - you're hoping the pretty colours will attract your attention more, "when am i ever going to use this in the 'real' world?"

your boyfriend makes an evidently amused noise from where he sits opposite you, his slim fingers working diligently at typing on his laptop; the one that you had snuck a cat meme sticker onto, much to his dismay but he is still yet to remove it. it is silent for a few moments save for the exceptionally fast clicking of laptop keys before your boyfriend presses the enter key, his turquoise eyes flickering up to meet your already staring gaze. you smile sheepishly and he rolls his eyes, a crack of a smile on the corners of his lips.

"we're almost finished and you're giving up now?" he mumbles back into the quiet of the library, almost filled to the brink with students and their numerous cups of coffee. you recognise that alhaitham has a point but all of this seems excessive when you glance around at all the dark circles under people's eyes, hair tied up in messy buns and stomachs full of leftover food because they're lacking time to cook. a frown adorns your face and alhaitham is quick to pick up on it, clearing his throat as he fixes his posture, sitting straight.

"it's all we've done for weeks now, haitham," you pout, jutting your lower lip out. without realising, you'd just made your boyfriend keen in a matter of seconds, his eyes quick to look away before he's caught slacking, "can we go for a walk? anywhere but… here."

alhaitham can't deny that the pair of you had locked yourselves away in the library for far too long to the point where his limbs have gone stiff and he's sure his knees might sound like he's aged beyond his years when he stands up. this means - much to his disliking - that he also cannot deny you, his darling partner, this walk you're requesting.

"alright, fine," he groans, slamming his laptop shut before he turns his body to slip the piece of technology into his worn leather satchel. he doesn't miss the way your face he adores so much lights up almost instantly, your eyes twinkling and wide, "but you have to promise to finish this chapter tonight."

you don't even reply to him under the premise that it'd be unwise for you to make a promise you may not be able to keep, not that it would be your fault. your friend group had tendencies to rope you into unwise things, to say the least. it could be any of them; kaveh, nilou, cyno, dehya… you have the inability to say no unless alhaitham is there to beat you to it. you're thankful for his input when it keeps you on the right track throughout college.

with your fingers laced with alhaitham's own, the two of you begin to make your way out of the jail that is the campus library. the spring sun beams down a hug of warmth on sumeru during these months, slightly sticky with humidity. alhaitham is always less than pleased about the heat, more so when he has tasks to do that require him leaving his accommodation. to quote your boyfriend, this weather in his eyes is good for nothing at all but here you was, removing him from the safe confides of an air conditioned building that was nonetheless silent - that's his idea of perfection! he bites back saying his complaints out loud, only because it's you.

"do we have a destination to this walk?" alhaitham breaks the silence first, slightly out of character for your boyfriend and it shows when you glance over at him in mild surprise, your eyebrows raised. he scoffs, looking away. you take this moment to trail your eyes over the beloved features of your partner from his silver locks and the pair of white bluetooth headphones that hang around his neck at all times. he never parted from them, almost like how he never parted from you.

you shake your head when you realise you never answered him, clicking your tongue to your teeth as you admire the bustle of the college campus - usually a little too crowded for your own liking but today it seemed to be just perfect, at least it lacked to feel like a sweaty tin of sardines, "nowhere in particular."

alhaitham appears to nod out of the corner of your eyes, his own gaze falling to a patch of empty grass on the green in the middle of campus. he squeezes your hand to catch your attention, beginning to lead you silently as you weave through the aforementioned crowds you'd been mindlessly watching prior. you didn't question his sudden change in directions, knowing alhaitham there was always a possibility the man had gotten overwhelmed in the current situation. he settles onto the lush grass first, pulling you down at his side due to your joined hands which only earns him a yelp of shock and a glare.

"that was unnecessary." you comment stubbornly and a small noise comes from your boyfriend as he watches you finally settle down, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh.

"this walk was unnecessary." he retorts, earning him a slap on his leg that curls his lips as he looks away, squinting to watch other students.

"it's good to get outside and feel the fresh air, haitham," you muse as your eyelashes flutter shut, relaxing as you feel alhaitham's thumb brushing over your knuckles subconsciously - this is just one of his many habits he does without realising but you most definitely notice every single one, "y'know… photosynthesis."

alhaitham scoffs, suddenly turning his attention back to you as he glances over your face while your eyes are shut. he takes in the way you styled your hair today and the minor details of your face you think nobody notices. seconds pass with no more words said before alhaitham leans to press his lips to you, catching you off guard as your eyes widen. pleased with your reaction, he pulls away with the faintest of a smug expression on his face as he dares to utter a response to your earlier comment, "love, we're not plants."

#⌞a café on the sea front !!⌝#( sealed letters )#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #https-furina

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lemoncrushh · 7 months

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Dressing For Revenge

Summary: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who's willing to help you get over him.

Warnings: dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), angry sex (consensual), MUST BE 18+ TO READ

Word Count: 8.6k

Based on this request.

A/N: This is my first new fic of my rebrand. I hope you enjoy! Please be kind. FEEDBACK IS LOVE.

“God, you look hot, Y/N.”

You smirked at your reflection in the mirror and at your friend Kelsie who sat on your bed behind you.

“Not bad, huh?” you wiggled your brows as your hands swept down your hips, accentuating the slim shape of the dress and your hourglass silhouette.

“I mean, I’d fuck you.”

You chuckled. “Thanks, Kelse.”

“That is the look you’re going for, right?” your friend asked. “The get me drunk and fuck me senseless look? Or is it the look but you can’t touch idea?”

“Hmm, I guess we’ll see,” you smirked.

“Huh?” Kelsie rose from the bed as you grabbed your handbag and strutted towards the front door. “What does that mean?”

“It means…it depends on who I run into.”

“Not Luke.”

You grimaced at the mention of his name. “Fuck no!” you yelled before quickly masking your disdain for your ex with a sweet smile. “But who knows who else will be there tonight.”

“There’s the Y/N I know,” Kelsie beamed, following you out to the awaiting Uber.

Nightclubs weren't really your scene. At least they hadn't been until you'd met Luke. He was rich and liked to flaunt it. His mission was always to see and be seen. So whether it was a Hollywood party or the loudest disco, he knew where the action was and always made an appearance. When he started taking you to clubs and parties, you weren't sure it was your thing. While you liked the personal attention he gave you and the money he spent on you, you didn't much enjoy watching other girls falling all over him. Especially drunk girls.

But you had to admit, even now, you had gotten used to jetset the lifestyle a bit. You'd come to know some great people, Kelsie included, because of the nightlife you'd shared with your ex.

Which unfortunately was the exact reason he was now your ex. Because of his lifestyle.

You could still smell the weed and whiskey that hung in the air that night you'd found him in the guest room at that party in Malibu with that little tramp. She'd barely been legal, for fuck sake, but that was beside the point. Up until then, you’d had your suspicions that Luke was cheating on you. Hell, he’d flirt with girls right in front of you. But every night he’d take you home and make you feel like the Queen of the World, and all your doubts managed to fizzle away like the bubbles in the champagne he’d paid for earlier.

That dreadful night, however, your suspicions had been confirmed in plain sight, the harsh reality stinging your eyes with the tears that it brought. Luke had begged for forgiveness later, swearing on his grandmother’s grave (who was still alive, by the way) that he would never do it again and that he loved only you. You’d told him you needed time to think about it, but it only took two days to find out from a mutual friend that he’d been out with another woman at yet another nightclub.

So stepping past security into this club was already starting to make you have second thoughts and leave a bitter taste in your mouth. But when Kelsie grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bar, you remembered the reason why you came.

Confiding in Kelsie, you promised you were ready to move on and have a nice girls’ night out. You let her believe it was her idea to get as dolled up as you had. And you did appreciate the little persuasion she’d provided. But truth be told, you would have gone out tonight with or without her. Perhaps moving on wasn’t the correct term for it, but one thing was for certain. You needed to get laid…badly.

Kelsie ordered you both cocktails from the bar while you kept your eyes peeled for contenders. You locked eyes with a handsome Latino who gave you a smile. You smiled back.

Possibly… you thought to yourself.

“Here you go, Y/N,” you heard Kelsie say as she handed you a glass.

“Thanks,” you muttered, quickly taking a long sip through the little straw.

“So how’s the turn out?” she grinned, turning to face the rest of the club alongside you.

“Not bad,” you chuckled. “Not great either. But the night is still young.”

“Hmm, someone’s eyeing you at two o’clock.”

Gazing over the crowd, you caught sight of the guy Kelsie was referring to. Eh. He was okay, but nothing to flip over. He definitely fell into the look but you can’t touch category. If he came by the bar, you’d let him buy you a drink, but that was it.

“Good evening ladies,” you heard a voice say from the other side of Kelsie. It was the Latin Lover. “What are we drinking tonight?”

“Nothing fancy,” Kelsie grinned, crossing one leg over the other as she batted her lashes. “Just rum and Coke.”

“Ah, a Cuba Libra!” the handsome man beamed, placing his hand on his chest. “You know, that’s where I’m from.”

“Cuba? No way!”

“Okay…it’s where my father’s from,” he held up his free hand and nodded sheepishly. “But I am still proud of my heritage.”

Kelsie giggled as the man leaned against the bar and introduced himself to her. You took this as your cue. The unspoken word to back off and let your friend take the lead. No harm done. You hadn’t begun to make the rounds yet.

“Going to the ladies’,” you leaned over and whispered to Kelsie. She gave a nod of acknowledgement as you slid off your stool.

As you made your way toward the back of the club, a handful of men caught your eye. You held your head high and winked when needed, flipping your hair off your bare shoulder.

And that’s when you saw him. He wore the jacket you’d bought him for Christmas, his ever present whiskey glass in his hand, a long legged twig of a girl attached to his hip as he chatted with a group of people.

Stopping in your tracks, you felt your hands form fists at your sides, the bile rising in your throat. Then taking a deep breath, you tried to think of the best way to get around Luke and his group in order to get to the bathroom without him seeing you.

Zig-zagging through the crowd, you just about made it to the other side of Luke’s clique when you heard your name and felt a hand around your wrist. Your automatic reaction was to turn toward him, your brain instantly cursing you for it. With your lips pursed, you scowled at him.

“You look amazing,” he said. As if you didn’t know.

“Hmph,” you grunted.

“How are you?” he asked as he stepped closer, his other hand grazing your hip. But you quickly stepped back, realizing he was trying to pull you in. Releasing your arm from his hold, you rolled your eyes. The nerve of this guy!

“As if you care.”

“What do you mean, Y/N?” he pleaded, his blue eyes giving you the look that used to make you melt. But you knew all his tricks now. “Of course I care. I’ve always cared about you.”

“Seriously?”

You were ready to slap him when the woman next to him turned around, sliding her bony hand up his arm.

“Baby, who is this?” she cooed.

“Oh, this is-”

“Nobody,” you interrupted, standing up straight. Then you turned swiftly, heading for the restrooms with determination.

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, blurring your vision as you scrambled to get to your destination, ready to hide in a stall until your composure was contained. Suddenly, you felt a body slam into your chest, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” you heard a voice declare as two hands grabbed hold of your upper arms to steady you. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Fuck,” you stumbled, shaking your head. Getting a clearer image of the man who ran into you, you didn’t bother to exchange niceties. “Yeah. Watch where the fuck you’re going, asshole!”

You only stayed long enough to see the shocked look on his face before running toward the ladies’ room. Slamming into the door with your palms, you found an empty stall and locked yourself inside. Taking deep breaths, you counted to ten like your therapist had taught you to do.

Motherfucking Luke! Why did he have to be here? Of all the clubs in L.A. You’d known there had been a slight chance he would be at this club. You had gone to it a couple times with him before. But he also frequented others. Why this club? Why tonight?

Inhaling a jagged breath, you shook your head. No! You were not going to let one stupid prick ruin your night just because you happened to run into him. No matter how rich or good looking he was. No matter how good in bed he was.

Ugh…you sighed as you slid down the wall. You missed it. The sex. It had been amazing, delicious. Luke could make you come like…

Shut up, Y/N!

There’s other men who could make you feel just as good, if not better. And you had already taken a gander at some prospects tonight.

Washing your hands at the sink and doing your best to touch up your face, you took another deep breath and made your way back to the club. The loud music hit you in the face as your heels clicked along the floor, setting the tone for the rest of the evening. You spotted Kelsie on the dance floor with Mr. Cuba Libra and decided it was time to find yourself someone to dance with, or at least buy you a drink. You didn’t even bother to look in Luke’s direction, and instead decided to head back to the bar.

You saw his back first, a dark maroon jacket covering his broad shoulders. But it was the curls on the nape of his neck that caught your attention, the way they whispered against his collar so delicately. And when he turned his head slightly to talk to the person next to him, you knew for certain it was the man you’d bumped into earlier.

You watched him lift a highball glass to his lips, taking a swig. The rings on his fingers made you swoon inwardly, a secret turn-on of yours. When he turned away again, you decided it was time to bite the bullet. With your tail between your legs, you sauntered up to the stranger and poked him in the back. He turned inquisitively, immediately raising his eyebrows when he noticed it was you.

“I believe…” you paused to clear your throat. “I owe you an apology.”

You watched the man’s face soften, his full lips making a perfect circle before he said, “Oh.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you and called you an asshole.”

Giving a shrug, he slid off his stool and stood to face you.

“It’s alright. Sometimes I am one.”

You caught the corner of his mouth twitching before it grew into a smirk, pushing his cheek until a deep dimple appeared. Automatically, you smiled, feeling a weakness in your knees. Holy shit.

Getting your bearings, you blinked. “Anyway, just wanted to say I’m sorry. I wasn’t…feeling well.”

“I reckoned it was something like that. I saw you run for the toilets.”

Sheepishly looking down at your hands, you nodded. “Yeah. I was…in a hurry, and you ran into me. But I shouldn’t have been so rude.”

“Apology accepted,” he grinned wider, holding out his hand. “I’m Harry.”

“Y/N,” you replied, shaking his warm, ringed hand.

Then the jerk had the nerve to cover your hand with his other one as he leaned forward and looked you in the eyes. “Are you feeling better now, Y/N?”

You immediately felt like syrup was oozing down your body at the way he said your name.

“Kinda,” you teased. “But I’d feel much better with a drink.”

If you hadn’t already, the moment Harry smiled the biggest smile yet, his eyes twinkling as he guided you back to the bar, you decided you’d let him do more than buy you a drink. You’d let him try to make you come tonight.

The music was loud enough to send each pulse and vibration running through your veins. And the liquor Harry had offered you added to the sensation, making you feel weightless and on top of the world. But most of all, the feeling of his body against your back as you both swayed and grinded sent you to a hypnotic state of bliss.

“Who’s that?” you suddenly heard Harry whisper in your ear.

“Huh? Who?”

“That bloke you’ve had your eye on since we stepped onto the dance floor.”

“I don’t-” you choked, “know what you’re talking about.”

“Y/N,” Harry said, turning you around to face him. Clipping your chin with his finger, he forced you to look at him. “I’m pretty observant. You may be dancing with me but your gaze is glued to that man in the grey jacket over there. Now, either you really fancy him, or it’s someone you know.”

“I’m sorry,” you lowered your eyes, embarrassed and a little ashamed that he noticed. “It’s my ex.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not…I mean…I don’t want him back or anything. If that’s what you’re thinking. I didn’t know he was going to be here,” you confessed.

“That wasn’t what I was thinking,” said Harry. “But thanks for telling me.”

“I’m sorry I was looking over at him,” you continued, pressing your hands against his chest. You felt relief when he didn’t object. “It’s over between us…it’s just…”

“Still a little raw?” Harry finished.

“Yeah.”

“I get it. I just got over a breakup, too.”

“Really?”

“Well, it’s been a couple months, but yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” you frowned.

Harry’s mouth curved into a smile. “Stop saying that. You didn’t do anything. I was just curious.”

“Still…it was rude of me,” you returned the smile. “Here I am dancing with this incredibly attractive guy…”

“Who?” Harry playfully feigned stupidity, looking around him. When you giggled, he grinned wider, his dimples dipping in his cheeks. You blushed. “Oh, you mean me?”

“Who’s also a charmer,” you added.

“C’mere,” he instructed, pulling you against his body again, his hands sliding down your hips. “I know you don’t know me, Y/N. But I can show you a good time and make you forget about whatshisname. Even if just for one night.”

Your eyes twinkled with lust as you gazed into his green ones. You imagined kissing his full lips, his mustache tickling you, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. In a moment of excitement, you lifted your hand to touch it, your fingers grazing across his jaw.

“I’d like that. Very much,” you purred.

Slowly, Harry leaned down, and with his fingertips digging deeper into your hips, he covered your mouth with his. He tasted of whiskey, but not like Luke used to. This was sweeter, with a hint of cherries. Wanting to explore his mouth further, you slid your hands up his shoulders and fingered the wisps of hair on his neck as he allowed you access to his tongue. You swore you felt him groan as he pulled you even closer.

While the beat still pulsed around you, you found a particular pulse of your own, racing through your veins like a newly lit fire that you’d thought had long died out. As Harry continued to seduce your mouth with his tongue, your fingertips found his chest once again where you slid your palm inside his shirt and ran it across his bare chest. The touch seemed to ignite something in Harry too, and you felt him chuckle against your lips before he pulled away, grabbing your wrists.

“You’re gonna make me strip you right here and have my way with you, baby,” he growled.

His hungry eyes told you he could very well do just that. Lifting his gaze, however, his smirk fell as he looked past you.

“Hmm, looks like the tables have turned.”

“What?” you asked.

Cocking his head, he gestured behind you. Turning slightly, you caught Luke glaring at you. His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he didn’t approve of your sexy little display with Harry, or might even feel a tinge of jealousy.

Hmmph, you shrugged off the notion. Luke had never shown any sign of jealousy as long as you’d known him. Still, it made you a little excited to know he was keeping tabs on you.

“I’ll be damned,” you heard Harry chuckle. “I’d say he’s a wee bit unhappy, Y/N.”

“Serves him right,” you let the words slip.

“I’m gonna guess he was the possessive type.”

“Actually, no,” you replied. “In public he barely acted like he knew me. I’d find him flirting with every other woman in the room.”

“But he still expected you to be with him, right?” Harry asked.

“Yeah…”

“While he could do whatever he wanted.”

You furrowed your brows, finally understanding Harry’s point. “Yeah!”

“He didn’t deserve you,” Harry said, his voice low but loud enough for you to hear. “Didn’t appreciate you.”

“Probably not,” you sighed, your hips still swaying as Harry held you close.

“Definitely not,” he retorted, lifting his right hand to slide it under your ear. "Come home with me, Y/N. Make him really jealous. Make him realize what he's missing."

You snorted in disbelief as your fingertips tickled the back of his hand. “I doubt he’d even notice if I left with you.”

“I beg to differ,” said Harry. “The way his eyes are shooting daggers at me right now says otherwise.”

“I don’t like to use people, Harry,” you claimed.

He threw his head back laughing, and you could feel the vibration in his chest against your own.

“Seriously, Y/N? Isn’t that why you’re here? Why we’re all here? Regardless of whether or not your ex had shown up at this club tonight, wasn’t your intention to get back at him? To find someone to help you forget?”

“Well…yeah…kinda,” you stammered.

“And wouldn’t I just be perfect to help in that regard?”

You felt your face flush as you looked into his eyes. He was absolutely right. Your goal had been to get back at Luke tonight, if only to prove to yourself that you didn’t need him. And Harry was so sexy and willing…

“Yes,” you heard yourself say.

You followed Harry to the bar where he paid his tab, walking right past Luke and his group. Though you dared not turn your head to look at him, you could somehow feel his gaze on you.

“Ready?” Harry asked, stuffing his wallet into his pocket.

“You have no idea how ready I am,” you teased.

Harry didn’t miss your tone. He pulled you close once again, planting a wet kiss on your lips, right there for everyone, especially Luke, to see. When your mouths separated, you licked your lips seductively.

“And you have no idea how badly I want to touch you right here, right now,” Harry murmured in your ear. “Let’s go.”

As soon as Harry grabbed your hand, you heard your name being called. You turned to see Luke incredulously glaring at you.

“You can’t be serious!” he shouted.

“Excuse me?”

“This prick? You’re leaving with him?”

“What’s it to you?” you shouted back. “I don’t belong to you anymore, remember?”

“I fucked up, Y/N! I thought you were forgiving me!”

“You thought wrong!” you chuckled. Then you looked over at the woman you had assumed he was with. “Does she know you’re a cheater? Or have you been lying to her like you did to me?”

“Y/N,” you heard Harry say, tugging on your hand. “He’s not worth your time, baby.”

“Naw, see…” Luke yelled, clenching his jaw as he stepped forward. “You don’t get to call her that. She’s not yours!”

“She is tonight, mate.”

While the idea of being anyone’s possession was usually appalling, the way Harry said that made your legs weak. And the fact that he hadn’t let go of your hand yet made you feel safe.

“You fucking-”

“Luke, man!” someone called out. You watched as two of his friends held him back and told him to calm down.

“C’mon, Y/N,” whispered Harry before he pulled you through the crowd and out the front door to the valet where he stopped and looked at you. “Are you okay?”

“No, but I will be,” you replied as he pushed your hair from your face.

“I can just take you home if you’d like. We don’t have to-”

“No. I want to.”

“You sure?”

You merely nodded before grabbing his jacket and pulling him into another deep kiss. You felt him moan against your lips, reigniting the fire in your core. A black car pulled up to the curb then as you released him.

“I need to feel you tonight, Harry,” you whined. “Please.”

“Anything you want, baby,” he sighed before guiding you to his car.

You felt a little sleazy and a twinge of guilt for leaving Kelsie at the club. But when you texted her in Harry’s car, she swore she was fine and having the time of her life with her Cuban guy. She also gave both you and Harry kudos for not falling into Luke’s trap and letting a full fight break out. Though she hadn’t seen exactly what happened, she had heard a commotion and then caught the seething look on Luke’s face when she headed for the bathroom.

“Everything alright?” Harry asked when he stopped at a red light.

“Um…yeah…” You turned off your phone and looked up at him. “Just fine.”

“Good,” he grinned, gently placing his hand on your knee. “My place is just up here.”

You tried your best to not gawk at the stately home as Harry turned into the circular driveway. Shit, even Luke’s house wasn’t this extravagant. You smiled over at Harry as he killed the engine and stared at you.

“Still wanna come in?” he smirked.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together at his choice of words.

Harry chuckled low, shaking his head. You thought he was going to add to the spice that sizzled in the air, but instead he opened his car door. He was already at your side before you barely had your legs out. He helped you out of the car, sliding his arm around your waist, and he stared into your eyes as he slammed the door shut behind you.

Harry’s house was gorgeous to say the least. When you stepped into the foyer, you immediately noticed the grand staircase, a large statue and a painting above the mantel that was no doubt an original.

“Can I get you a drink?” he offered. “Scotch or a glass of wine?”

“Actually…” you blushed, “I could really go for some water. My throat feels dry.”

“No problem,” he grinned. “Kitchen’s this way.”

You followed Harry through the living room where he peeled off his jacket and laid it across the back of a chair. As he rolled up a shirt sleeve with one hand, you saw him grab a remote with the other which set the fireplace aglow. Damn!

Turning the corner into the kitchen, you watched as Harry opened what looked like a large pantry but turned out to be the refrigerator.

“Well!” you gasped, unable to hold in your amazement any longer. “Looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself.”

That low chuckle that you’d already come to adore rose from his chest and dimples appeared in his cheeks as he set two bottles of sparkling water on the counter. Then he surprised you further by not only getting down two glasses from the cabinet, but then filling them with ice and pouring the water over it.

“I do alright, I reckon.”

He handed you a glass and you took a generous sip before lowering it. “So what do you do?”

“I’m in real estate.”

“Okayyyy… No surprise there,” you commented as you gestured around the area. “I suppose that’s how you scored this gorgeous mansion?”

Harry laughed, nearly spitting his water. “It’s not a mansion.”

“Yeah, it is. Fuck, you are rich if you can’t tell that.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No! Why would it? Unless…oh my God, you’re not married, are you?”

“No,” Harry snorted.

“Engaged? Separated? Newly divorced with an ex wife you owe a ton of alimony to?”

“No,” Harry laughed harder. Then he set his glass on the counter and placed his hands on your arms. “Y/N, I promise, I’m none of those things.”

“Then…how? Why?”

“Why am I still single?”

You nodded first before managing to squeak out a yes.

“Same reason you are,” he replied softly, his hands sliding up your shoulders and finding your jaw.

“What do you mean?”

“I was with the wrong person. And it took me a long time to realize.”

Harry’s words hung in the air as you tried to conjure up your own, to no avail. Instead you stared at his lips, now hydrated from the water, as his thumbs ran across your cheeks.

“Was she a cheater, too?” you finally asked.

Harry blinked his eyes softly. “Yeah.”

Who the hell would cheat on you? is what you wanted to say. Instead, you said, “Fuck them.”

“Yeah.”

Tilting his head, Harry captured your lips with his, sending a wave of desire down to your toes. Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt, and you hastily began to unfasten them. When you reached the waistband of his trousers, Harry tugged the hem of his shirt and removed it completely, tossing it on the floor. Then with your mouths still intertwined, he lifted you up and set you on the kitchen counter. Sliding his hands up your thighs, he grinned against your lips.

“I’ve been dying to get this fucking little dress off of you all night.”

“Yeah? How do you wanna do it?” you purred, leaning back and sticking your tits out.

“Hmm. Part of me wants to just tear it off right here,” he said, his sultry eyes burning into yours. “But the other part of me wants to take you upstairs and do it slowly. So slowly you can hardly stand it. Taking my time with you, kissing you, licking you, peeling your dress off inch by inch until you’re writhing and whimpering my name.”

“Mmm, I like the second one,” you breathed.

“Who says you get a vote, hmm?” Harry raised a brow.

“Oh.”

Your mouth remained in the O shape as Harry continued to run his hands up your legs and under your dress. You scooted closer to him on the counter, as much as you possibly could without slipping off. Harry quickly understood your intent, pushing himself between your legs, his hands finding their way to your ass where he squeezed.

“So what’s it gonna be?” you inquired, just before Harry lowered his head and kissed the exposed skin at the top of your breast. You gasped at the sudden touch, his lips moist and cool from the iced water.

Allowing Harry to take his time answering, you watched his sensual mouth caress your chest as you felt yourself get wetter and wetter. His fingertips pinched your sensitive skin on your rear until he found the waistband of your thong.

“You’re so fucking hot, Y/N,” he murmured as he pulled the elastic and made it pop against your hip. “You smell like cherry vanilla, and you taste like it too.”

You grinned at him, sliding a perfectly manicured nail down his chest and grabbing hold of his cross necklace.

“You like?”

“Mmm, yes. I wanna taste some more. But I wanna do it upstairs.”

“Lead the way, honey,” you beamed.

Seven thousand tiny nerves in your body were set afire as you took Harry’s hand and followed him up the enormous staircase. You stole tiny glimpses into each room as he led you to the end of the hall, stopping at a set of double doors that were opened to a stunning master suite.

“I’d show you the rest of the house, but I’d rather get down to business if it’s okay with you,” Harry smirked.

“Of course,” you agreed.

Stepping into the bedroom, you caught sight of the California King sized bed covered in luxurious linens. The entire room had the most intoxicating, manly aroma, like tobacco and patchouli.

“Wow, you certainly don’t scrimp,” you commented.

“I like to think I have good taste,” he said, grabbing your waist.

You chuckled as he pulled you close, goosebumps erupting all over your flesh. You ran your fingers down his chest, tracing his tattoos.

“I like these birds,” you said. “They don’t represent you and your ex do they?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I had these long before I ever…y’know. Met her.”

“Ah okay. Good.” And with that, you leaned forward and softly kissed each bird. When you lifted your head, Harry was grinning at you.

“I thought I was the one who was getting a taste.”

“You also said you wanted to take your time. Maybe I’m a little impatient, Harry.”

With a low, sexy laugh, Harry guided you backwards toward the bed. When your back hit the silk duvet, you watched him hover over you, the dim light creating a glow around his chestnut hair. A cluster of clunks sounded as you both kicked off your shoes. You smiled up at Harry, the excitement and anticipation both alluring.

“I am gonna take my time, darling,” he confirmed. “So slow that you’ll be begging me, your sweet pussy throbbing in agony.”

“Oh my God,” you gulped. This was going to be either torture or heaven. Maybe both.

Starting with a soft, sweet kiss, Harry let you get comfortable on the bed. The second kiss was deeper, his tongue sliding into your mouth like a warm, wet snake, eager to meet its mate. You kissed him back, one hand on his neck, the other tangling in his curls. You sighed as you felt his body relax and situate on top of yours, his legs between yours and his hands cradling your head.

You could still taste a twinge of whiskey on his tongue, and that mixed with the incredible fragrance in the room made you light headed. As Harry continued to kiss you, you felt the urge to feel him. Pushing your hips up, you could feel his erection between your legs. But when you slid your hand down his side to get a touch, Harry grabbed your wrist and pinned it down on the bed next to you. You whined in protest, but Harry only resumed his assault on your mouth.

You wondered if you’d ever been kissed this way. Luke certainly never did this. He wasn’t one to skip foreplay, but he definitely liked to move things along. And even in high school when you were still a virgin, guys never concentrated so thoroughly on the kissing part. This was…different. But also incredibly satisfying. Harry was an excellent kisser, to put it mildly.

When he seemed to be content with your lips, Harry moved on to your neck, then your shoulder. Reaching the skinny strap of your dress, he looped his fingers through and pulled it aside. You hitched a breath when he’d pulled both sides down your shoulders and kissed the tops of your breasts again. He held onto your waist as he slid his tongue across your skin. You felt yourself hike your hips up again, needing the friction.

“It zips in the back,” you heard yourself say.

“What, baby?” Harry asked, lifting his head to look at you. One strand of hair had fallen on his forehead. God, he was gorgeous.

“My dress,” you breathed. “There’s a zipper in the back.”

“I know,” he smirked.

You whimpered low, squirming underneath him. “Aren’t you…please?”

“Oh, you’re begging already? I’m not even halfway there yet, love.”

“Jesus,” you gasped.

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“I need you to touch me, Harry.”

“I am touching you.”

“You know what I mean!” you cried.

Harry shook his head and tsked. “I told you I’m taking my time. We’ll get there, babe. Okay?”

You sighed through your nose. “Fine.”

“Are you gonna behave? Or do I need to punish you?” he teased.

“Fuck! Punish me, please! I need to feel you.”

“Ohh!” Harry sat back on his knees and looked at you, one eyebrow raised. “I didn’t know you were a naughty girl.”

“Well, now you do,” you said flatly.

Harry chuckled that sexy way again, making your wetness pool even more in what was left of your pitiful panties.

“I thought you wanted revenge,” Harry stated.

“Revenge for what?”

“Your ex. To prove you’re better off without him.”

“I am,” you agreed.

“Did he kiss you like that?” Harry asked.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Did you like it when I did it?”

Smiling gently, you nodded. “Very much.”

“Don’t you think you deserve to be kissed like that?”

“I…”

“What about touched like this?”

Harry continued, running his palms up your thighs until he reached the hem of your dress. You stared at him when he paused, then slid them further to your panties. You felt him glide his thumb across the center, so softly you almost whined at the lack of friction. But then he repeated the motion, pressing little by little each time.

Your breaths became faster, quickened by each press of his thumb. He didn’t remove his eyes from yours, watching you as you started to shift your hips and let out tiny moans.

“Is that where you wanted to be touched?” Harry inquired.

“Mmm, yes,” you managed to sound between breaths.

“You’re fucking soaked, baby. Perhaps I was wrong with taking my time.”

“I told you.”

The cackle that came from Harry was unexpected, but at least he now understood how ready you were.

“Here I thought I was trying to prove to you what I think you deserve, when what you really need is a good fuck.”

“God yes, please!” you cried.

When Harry chuckled a little more, you suddenly rose up onto your elbows.

“I’m sorry, that didn’t sound right,” you said.

“What do you mean?”

“It sounded selfish. I don’t mean to imply I didn’t like all the other stuff.”

“No, I get it,” Harry shook his head. “And you’re definitely not selfish.”

“No?”

“Not at all. You deserve a good fuck, too.”

You bit your lip. “So do you.”

“Yeah?” Harry crawled up your body, resuming his previous position. This time his cock was even harder, poking you in just the right place.

“Mmmhmm,” you moaned.

Sliding his hands around your waist, Harry reached for the zipper on the back of your dress and pulled it down. A loud breath escaped your throat when he finally slipped it down and over your hips.

“Fuck me!” he exclaimed with a sigh. “Look at you, you gorgeous thing.”

Before you could reply, Harry’s mouth was on your breast, sucking on your nipple. You moaned explicitly at the instant and much needed contact. When he’d given both nipples equal attention, he changed course to your belly, slithering down your body until he situated himself between your thighs.

“I think, kitten…” he cooed, grabbing hold of the sides of your thong, “that these need to go. They’re much too wet to keep wearing.”

You groaned in agreement, letting Harry remove your panties completely.

“I reckon I can help with that too,” he added, placing his palm on your inner thigh before sticking out his tongue and lapping your skin there.

Holy shit! He hadn’t even touched your clit yet and you were already about to explode.

Harry repeated the action on your other thigh before finally…finally centering himself at your pussy. He opened you gently, then so delicately pressed his tongue to your clit. You almost came unglued as he started to move it in various lines and shapes, adding a bit more pressure to each lick.

“God damn, kitten, you do taste good. So delicious.”

As he resumed his oral pleasure on you, you began to pant and moan, grabbing hold of his hair and curling your toes. Fuck, what this man could do with his mouth!

Just when you started to feel the burn in your core and thought you might go over the edge, a finger joined in on the fun, slipping past your juices with ease. You felt an extra tightness in your stomach, your legs trembling next to Harry’s head.

“Oh God! Harry! Baby! So….so good!”

You heard him hum against your pussy, his tongue flickering in the best rhythm, and a second finger slid in with the first.

“Aaaaaaahhhhh!” you cried, grabbing fists of his hair.

Your orgasm thundered through your entire body with Harry still transfixed on your pleasure. It seemed to last for ages, like you couldn’t stop.

“Harry! Oh shit!”

You finally came down after a couple more seconds, your body limp. Harry lifted his head finally, a cheeky grin on his face as he wiped away your juices from his chin. Then he crawled up the bed again to face you. When he leaned in for a kiss, you backed away.

“What…what are you doing?” you asked.

“Um…was gonna kiss you?”

“Oh.”

“Do you not like to taste yourself?”

Biting your lip, you shrugged. “Luke never liked to do that. So I got used to it.”

“Never liked to do what? Eat your pussy or kiss you after?” Harry asked.

“Kiss after. He always made me wash myself off before we kissed or…did anything else.”

Harry frowned and narrowed his eyes. “Fuck that guy. He wouldn’t do that and he was shagging other women?”

“Yeah.”

“Babe,” said Harry as he laid on his side next to you. “I think it’s time you got over him.”

“I am over him,” you declared.

“Really? Seems to me like you’re still pretty scarred from him.”

“Well, I am,” you agreed. “That’s gonna take some time. But I don’t love him anymore. He cheated on me. Do you still love your ex?”

Harry stared at you a moment before saying, “No. But I’m still a little bitter and angry, I admit.”

“Yeah,” you nodded with a scowl. “That’s what I am. I’m so fucking angry.”

“Then that’s what you need to do, Y/N. Let it all out. On me.”

You stared incredulously at Harry. Though his expression was serious, his eyes had a certain softness to them, as though he was silently willing you to let go.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered, pulling you close against his body.

His mouth covered yours once again, a tender kiss of vulnerability, this time allowing you to take the lead. When your tongues met, you felt him sigh. You cupped his face with your hands, his scruffy jaw sending yet another spark through your veins. This man was so incredibly sexy, and he was wanting you to take advantage of the situation. Let out all of your emotions in a single roll in the hay. Who were you to resist?

“Let me help you with that,” he murmured when your fingers glided down his belly to his belt.

Rising from the bed, Harry hurriedly unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. You sheepishly examined the massive bulge in his briefs before he removed them as well, stepping out of them and returning to the bed.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he offered. “Show me what you want.”

“Harry…” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off of his beautiful physique and his long, thick cock.

“Fuuuuck.”

The dimples returned as Harry smirked with a nod, placing his arm behind his head. “That’s the idea.”

Words escaping you - not to mention air - you couldn’t decide if you wanted to take him in your mouth or straddle him. You’d never had this much control before. You watched as Harry began to stroke himself, and your mouth began to water. But your pussy began to twitch, too. Damn it.

“This is about you, babe,” Harry voiced. “But don’t take too long to decide.”

As his thumb ran over the tip of his cock, you finally made your decision. Throwing your leg over his waist, you could already feel yourself dripping.

“You wanna ride me, darling?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Okay, hold on. Lemme get a condom.”

When Harry retrieved the protection from the bedside drawer, you offered to put it on. Harry watched you, an easy grin on his face. Then you aimed his hard cock at our entrance, taking a deep breath before sliding down slowly.

“Oh, Jesus babe,” Harry groaned, his eyelids fluttering. “Fuck, that feels so good already.”

With a smirk of your own, you began to ride him, taking it easy at first to adjust to his size. He definitely filled you more than Luke had.

You concentrated on Harry’s face as you moved, letting your pussy wetten with each thrust. He reached for your tits, cupping them and then grabbing your nipples. You threw your head back, feeling a moan escape your throat from deep down.

“Fuck, baby,” growled Harry. “You’re a fucking dream, you know that? I can’t believe your man didn’t want this.”

With a jagged breath, you looked back at him, his gorgeous face watching you in awe. It made you feel amazing.

“How dare he cheat on you?,” Harry added. “What was he thinking? Look at you. Riding my cock, taking me so deep and so well.”

“Yeah,” you whined.

“How dare he bury his cock in someone else's pussy when he has this little kitten ready to please his every whim. His every need. You do that, don’t you baby? You like to please your man, hmm?”

“Yes. I do.”

“You like to watch him become captive of your tight, warm pussy til he can’t get enough.”

You moaned, nodding your head.

“It’s not fair, is it kitten?”

“No,” you whimpered.

“You give so much, aiming to please. Only for a man who doesn’t know how good he’s got it.”

“Harry…”

“I know, baby. Tell me how unfair it is. Tell me how angry you are.”

Furrowing your brows, you groaned and sped up the pace, riding Harry faster.

“Fuck yeah, babe. Take it all out on me. All your anger. Fuck me like you hate me.”

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“I hate you.”

The words burned your throat because although they weren’t meant for Harry, you definitely hated Luke. Harry was right. You’d given your ex everything and he hadn’t appreciated it. You let him hurt your feelings in public and then pretended it didn’t matter anymore when his dick was inside you. Fuck that. Fuck him!

As your thrusts quickened, so did your breaths. You moaned louder, though the tiny cries and whimpers were not near enough. Watching Harry as his chest and throat started to get red, his eyelids fluttering from pleasure, you wanted so badly to make him come. But your fury was taking over as well. Your head was spinning with so many thoughts, emotions and desires.

Harry squeezed your ass as he lifted you higher and bucked his hips hard. You cried out in pleasure and pain, reaching for the headboard that was too far away.

“Get up, baby,” Harry suddenly commanded, slapping your ass. “I want you on your knees.”

When you obliged, you made sure you scooted closer to the headboard this time in case you needed to hold on. You felt Harry run his hands up the back of your thighs, his rings chilling your flesh right before he reached underneath and pinched your clit. You cursed again, unable to see straight.

“I know, kitten,” he said. “You’re dripping all over me and my sheets. Do I need to make you come again?”

“Yes. Please.”

Slipping two fingers inside your pussy, Harry quickly pulled them out and put them in his mouth.

“So fucking good, baby.”

Before you could respond, Harry slapped your ass, taking you by surprise. You squealed and looked over your shoulder where he was knelt behind you with a dirty smirk. Shithead.

“Now, my kitten,” he said firmly, “I’m gonna bury my cock in that tight cunt again. And you’re gonna take it just like before. Alright?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Only this time I wanna hear everything. Tell me how much you hate me. How fucking good my cock feels, but you can’t stand me. I wanna hear you seething with anger. Got it?”

You nodded again, although you were unsure exactly what he meant. Surely he didn’t want you to pretend he was Luke. Perhaps he wanted you to use the anger to fuel the orgasm.

Before you could think about it further, Harry did as he promised and slammed into your pussy over and over. The sting was so good, you nearly lost your balance, but Harry had a good grip on your waist.

“God, this ass,” he growled, slapping it again.

“Fuck you,” you cried, barely enough for Harry to hear. But he did.

“What was that, love?”

When you didn’t reply, he thrust harder. “Tell me!”

“Fuck you!”

“That’s it,” he acknowledged. “It’s so good, innit?”

“So good, Harry…I can’t…”

“Yes you can. Babe. Tell me you hate me.”

“I hate you,” you muttered.

“No, no. That won’t do,” he argued. You felt him lean forward, his stomach on our back. “I need to hear it. Louder.”

While it did feel so fucking good, your hatred was at its peak. You thought of all the shit you put up with from Luke…why did he hurt you like that? Why had he thought it was okay? What kind of fool did he think you were?

“I hate you!” you shouted, staring ahead at the headboard.

“I know you do,” said Harry, his voice even lower than usual.

Then he moaned, a deep, low, sexy moan that filled your senses. You could tell he was nearing his own climax. Your eyes began to burn as he reached for your clit again. You were so close, the orgasm sitting on the edge of the precipice. Oh God!

“Say it it again!”

With his finger on your cunt and his cock deep, the dam broke and you cried out in both pleasure and pain.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you, Luke!”

Time seemed to freeze as you glared straight ahead. Harry paused his thrusts, but his body still laid on top of yours.

“S-sorry.”

“S’okay, babe.”

“No, I- I didn’t mean to say that,” you croaked, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Hey. It’s okay. I told you to let out all your anger.”

You were silent for a bit, your body trembling as you felt his breaths on your shoulder. You wondered if he was going to move, figured he would after hearing you scream someone else’s name…even if it was tagged with hate.

“I’m…I’m really, sorry, Harry.”

“Baby. Please don’t be sorry. You released what you needed to. It’s okay.”

“O-okay…” you breathed, your throat sore.

“Do you need me to stop?”

“No,” you replied hastily. “You didn’t come yet, did you?”

“No, but it’s alright, I-”

“Harry. Don’t be silly. Keep fucking me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It…feels amazing. You’re so good.”

You felt his body rise from yours, a slight sweaty stickiness as his chest separated from your back. When he ran his hands down your hips, you heard him moan again.

“You’re amazing too, babe,” he said, breathing heavily with each thrust. “Shit, I’m so close.”

When you felt his balls hit your pussy, you reached underneath and grabbed them, earning a loud groan from Harry.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” he proclaimed.

Letting out a deep, guttural moan, Harry thrust a few more times until his body trembled and he let out long, slow breaths onto your back. Cursing again, he fell onto the bed beside you, pulling you against his chest.

Perhaps it was the memories flooding back, perhaps it was the way Harry held you with his sweaty arms that made you unable to breathe, or maybe it was because you’d fucking said your ex’s name as you came, but your eyes darted around the room, trying to decide your escape.

“I um…need to use the restroom,” you declared.

“Oh, sure babe.”

When he released you, you sped for the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. While washing up, you wondered why the hell you’d let this happen. You’d barely gotten over Luke’s hurt only for it to return again. You should have just stayed home tonight.

When you opened the door, Harry was still lying on the bed, naked, his head propped in his hand. Damn it.

“I should go,” you said, grabbing your discarded dress and panties from the floor.

“Why?”

“It’s late.”

“You can stay if you like.”

“No, I…should get home,” you declined.

“Oh. Well, let me get dressed and I’ll drive you,” Harry offered as he rose from the bed.

“Please. It’s fine. I’ll order an Uber.”

“Y/N, that’s ridiculous,” argued Harry. “I can take you.”

He slipped back into his pants, forgoing the briefs, but you were already at the door.

“It’s okay, really,” you insisted, pausing at the top of the stairs. “I just…I’m embarrassed, Harry. I’d really just like to be alone. I hope you understand.”

Making it to the living room where you’d left your bag, you noticed Harry had followed you. You quickly ordered an Uber on the app. When you turned, Harry wore a deep frown.

“Please don’t be embarrassed, Y/N. That was never my intention.”

“I know,” you confirmed, placing a hand on his chest for reassurance. Then you handed him your phone. “Here. Put your number in.”

Harry did as you asked, and when he handed it back, your fingers brushed.

“There, now you have mine,” you gave a tight smile after sending his number a text. When your phone pinged, you jumped. “Oh! There must have been a driver nearby. Goodnight, Harry.”

“It’s here already?”

“Just down the road. I’ll wait outside.”

“Babe,” he sighed.

You gave him a quick kiss, then a second.

“You’re lovely,” you whispered before leaving him standing in the middle of his luxurious living room.

If it had been a cab, you might have cried the whole way home. But seeing as it was an Uber and you were just sitting in the back of some guy’s car, you held the tears in. Stumbling up the stairs as if you were drunk, you tossed your bag on your nightstand and stepped out of your shoes. You’d just pulled on an oversized tee to sleep in when your phone rang in your purse. Seeing Harry’s number shouldn’t have startled you, but it did.

“Just wanted to make sure you got home okay,” he said when you answered.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Good. I know you wanna be alone, but I just wanted to say I um…I had a really good time with you, Y/N.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you, love. I really am. I was hoping we could both just-”

“Harry,” you interrupted. “It’s okay. You didn’t embarrass me. I did it to myself.”

After a long sigh, Harry spoke again. “Um…listen, if you ever wanna do this again….if you need to get your anger out or you’re stressed or…” he paused with a sigh, “just wanna talk. Whatever…give me a ring.”

“Of course.”

“Take care, Y/N.”

“Harry…”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I know.”

“That was just…”

“I know, baby.”

You gave a soft hum of contentment. “Okay then. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, kitten.

*dramatic music* What did you think?? Do we need more them? Don't be shy, leave all the comments you want :).

tagging: @kathb59 since you asked :)

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angels2000blogs · 11 months

Text

RZ Michael Myers x patient reader

reader is at Smith's Grove Warren County Sanitarium Michael is at and she is pushed around by the nurses and crys when yelled at.

Tw : abuse, abuse mentioned ( or implied) , Michael blames himself for leaving boo and thinks she is being hurt ( he wasn't told about his mom or boo ) , murder ( it is deserved) , swearing,

yes Michael sees us as a boo

I'm so sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors 💗

you had only been at Smith's Groves for 5 months and you had yet to make any friends.

you understood that it was a mental hospital and the chance of making friends were slim to none but you wanted to try anyway, your first two attempts went badly and ended with you getting a big black bruise on your right arm and lower cheek.

when you had confronted the nurses to ask for help with your bruises you were told to ' get over it ' and ' you should be thankful they didn't't kill you ' and never got any ointments, you had to learn that the nurses weren't going to be much help in those situations so you choose to keep to yourself to avoid getting hurt.

as much as you hatted being alone with only your therapist to talk to it was better than getting hurt, you hadn't know this before you were forced into smiths Grove but there were many criminals also seeking treatment here; you wish you were made aware of this factor, considering it would have changed your argument on why you shouldn't go to a mental institution.

but here you were sitting at your small desk drawing small useless drawing of cats and mice that your therapist would stupidly try and find a deeper meaning to.

as you began to draw your firth cat your door was aggressively opened and made a loud noise, scaring you and made you mess up.

you took a deep breath and looked at your now destroyed drawing, you hatted not being able to finish your drawings but you hatted getting yelled at for being late to breakfast more.

you slowly sat up knowing who was opening the door without even having to look , it was one of the nurses that was in charge of you.

you turned around and walked towards an strange face , one you hadn't met before.

you just have stoped walking towards him because the next thing you knew he was yelling.

" Jesus Christ, can you go any slower !" the man screamed as you quickly walked towards you and grabbed your arm and yanked you towards the door.

you weren't sure what was happening.

as soon as he yelled tears filled your eyes and you tried not to allow more tears to replace the ones already falling.

you my not be able to see well but you could feel the arm that grabbed you and yanked you out of your room.

you knew it was best not to resist, so you silently follow the man who still hasn't let you go.

he didn't let you go until you were sitting in your normal place at the small breakfast table.

" now just sit the fuck down and stop crying for god sakes, I didn't even do anything" he whisper yelled right next to your face.

than he was gone, he walked away leaving you crying at breakfast.

not long after that food was put in front of you, you had no appetite so you didn't move.

your head between your raised shoulders and your eyes stuck as a spot on the ground.

you managed to stop crying a little after breakfast was out on the table but your appetite remanded the same. so you didn't even bother picking up your stupid plastic cutlery.

if you were being honest you were fine with just staring at the spot on the floor forever if you were allowed to , but like most things you got comfort in it was taken away.

" why aren't you eating?" a female nurse asked you .

you knew this nurse, she was nice enough but still carried a attitude.

you lifted you head to meet her eyes and gave a small shrug not wanting to speak.

she rolled her eyes and took away the food.

you kept your head up now looking at everyone else talking to there friends or sitting quietly by myself, you eyes accidentally locked with a tall man sitting at a separate table with gards all around him.

he was wearing a blueish long cardigan and a white uniform like the rest of the patients.

looking at the tall man you suddenly become very aware of the fact you went wearing a bra and felt very exposed.

you returned to normal, your head below your shoulders and your eyes focused on a spot on the ground.

you're not sure how long breakfast went on for, but you do know that the male nurse was once again grabbing your arm and trying to pull you somewhere.

" are you my new nurse?" you quietly question, hoping he would say something along the lines of 'no' but lady luck wasn't on your side today.

" fucking hell! speak up bitch" he yelled and pushes you away from him, it didn't hurt but you started tearing up.

you quickly looked around trying to see if there were any nurses around to help you but there was only 3 gards around the big man.

you were quick to realize no one was going to help you .

though, that wasn't how Michael Myers saw this situation at all.

although Michael doesn't get angry often this made his blood boil .

he wasn't sure but in his eyes you were a exact same as little boo.

and he could just sit down and let someone that reminded him of boo get hurt again.

but for now he will just stay put, he's watching as you slowly get up and whisper a small ' sorry '.

" god sakes, if I knew any better I'd say you're scared of me ? you scared slut ?" the man says in a sarcastic voice.

you stay still

𝘔𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵.

Michael stands picking up one of his gards and throws him across the room.

'𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘰𝘰'

the other gards try and reach to there batons but don't get a chance before there also killed.

Michael slams one of there heads into a wall until he hears a cracking noice, he's not sure if it's the concrete or his skull;

and he doesn't care.

the other gard is thrown on to the ground were the man with a caved skull lays, there's another crack.

Michael looks up to you only to find you're looking into his eyes.

you tillt your head slightly.

the male nurse is trying to call for help on his wally talky which he keeps dropping; he's shaking so much he can't think anything in his hands.

as soon as Michael begins walking towards the two of you the nurse pushes you into Michal and runs of.

𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦'

but Michael don't want you dead , no.

he catches you and carefuly moves your body onto chair.

Michael once again starts walking towards the stupid man.

the nurse was trying to open the door but he was blissfully unaware that it was locked.

all the doors were locked why Michael would get angry to attempt to lessen the number of dead.

the nurse was screaming and bashing on the door, not that it would do anything.

Michael grabbed the nurses arm and pulled him back dislocating his shoulder with a creck.

the nurse now on the floor tried to crawl away from the significantly larger man who had no intention of stopping.

Michael gave him no time to get away before he picked the nurse by his head and smashed it back into the hard concrete floor and repeated the motion.

all you could do was sit in horror as the sound of the cracks filled the room, the blood pooling at the nurses now caved in head only grew bigger and bigger.

you weren't sure when he died but you understood he stopped screaming at the second blow.

the screams re looped though your head , the only thing you could remember was the screams: they were ear piercing.

Michael picked up the un- recognizable head and pushed it down one more time before standing up.

Michael whipped his blood stained hands and walked towards you, you were not scared; not that you felt safe , but you were so drained you couldn't help not feeling anything at all.

he sat down next to your trembling body and put a significantly larger hand on your shoulder.

the guards came into the room ten minutes later, you and Michael hadn't moved an inch.

@slzshers

#slasher fanfiction #slashers imagine #slashers #slash fanfiction #slash fic #michael myers #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #holloween #halloween #halloween 2 1981

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odyssean-flower · 7 months

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The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 1 - Spring: The Garden Meeting

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader

Summary: While taking a break from a ball, you run into Neuvillette in the gardens

Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine's regency england (sort of) now?

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Of all the balls that you had attended, this was by far the most glamorous, and the dullest. And the worst thing was, your champagne glass was empty.

You picked at your dull gown, which maintained a respectable air of elegance despite the fact that it was clearly secondhand and had been mended several times, and held in a sigh. Not that anyone was looking at you, sitting on a stuffed couch with the rest of the ladies who, like you, weren’t fortunate enough to have a dance partner.

All eyes were on the amber-colored dance floor, where young men and women dressed in sleek black tuxedos and pastel ruffles respectively were twirling around in each other’s arms under a glittering chandelier. The smiles and blushes on the faces of the dancers were a stark contrast to the scheming mothers and fathers watching them like hawks from the side, frequently whispering to each other. Your own mother was no exception, of course.

You caught the eye of your younger sister, who looked about to burst out of her skin from nervousness as she danced with a nice-looking young man, the son of a viscount if you remembered correctly. You heard your mother clucking her tongue next to you, most likely wishing that your sister looked more like a lovestruck maiden. You, on the other hand, were happy for her for not stumbling over her feet, since you knew how hard she practiced all week in order to dance without embarrassing herself at her first ball.

Her partner, seeming to have noticed her tension, whispered what seemed to be words of comfort into her ear, for she blushed and smiled just a bit. He seemed like a considerate young man. Perhaps your mother wouldn’t leave this ball disappointed after all.

Speaking of disappointments…you felt your mother give you a sidelong glare for the third time in the past hour. You held back a sigh.

Truth be told, you didn’t know why your mother still brought you to these things, despite the fact that you were “past your prime,” so to speak. Not that you were much in demand even when you were in your prime. Blessed—or cursed—with an unremarkable face and a curt, reticent personality, it was as though the gods had marked you for the fate of spinsterhood since birth (you had tried to explain this to your mother, but the scolding she gave you had dragged on for so long that you didn't bring it up again). Your debut in society had made little fanfare and you had sunk into invisibility by the end of the year.

Of course, you couldn’t begrudge your mother for her frustration. Your father was a baron, the lowest noble rank, and your family was firmly in the ranks of the “impoverished gentility,” on the verge of falling below that if they didn’t marry into greater wealth. You were the oldest child and had no brothers. The hopes for a successful marriage match now rested on the slim shoulders of your sister, who had just come of age this year. Her dress was newly ordered for her–your parents had spared no expense.

You sincerely hoped that this young man would take a liking to your sister (how could he not?), not just for the sake of the family’s future, but also for your sister’s mental wellbeing. She was sunshine itself, but also prone to bouts of insecurity and nerves that took not a little effort to coax her out of.

The music showed no signs of winding down. It seemed that this dance would go on for some time yet. By the time you were on the receiving end of your fourth glare in an hour, you finally decided to excuse yourself and go out into the spacious gardens.

You would have much preferred going to the library and finding an interesting biography or novel to read, but alas, it was improper to wander the estate of a stranger without telling the host first. But the fresh air and different scenery were a much-needed distraction from the hissed conversations around you and icy glares from your mother.

It was late in the evening, so you couldn’t appreciate the gardens in their full glory, but even in the faint moonlight and dull glow of the orange lamps, you could tell that the gardens were magnificent. They were elegantly arranged, with dainty flowers and stately trees lining stone paths and pale marble statues of women in flowing dresses standing like silent guards. There were other people scattered around in the gardens as well, mainly couples who wanted some privacy away from the ballroom.

You spotted a large arched trellis to your right. It was covered in white roses and seemed to lead to some distant part of the gardens. It reminded you of the portals to fairyland in the fairy tale books you've read. The thought brought a small smile to your face, and not a little bit of guilt for thinking of such childish things when you should really be more concerned about your prospects. I'm allowed a little bit of whimsy, aren't I? You told yourself.

You walked through the arch, following the path. Once you emerged on the other end, the air almost seemed to smell sweeter and the moonlight brighter. Maybe it was because you could no longer hear the music. This seemed to be the part of the garden where the roses were planted, as you could make out their distinctive shapes around you in the darkness. There were fewer lamps here and no presence of people, but you could still see the mansion in the distance, so it should still be okay to be all the way out here, right? At least, that was what you told yourself.

As you proceeded down the path, you gradually heard the sound of burbling water. Its source was soon revealed when the path ended at a large stone fountain. It was topped with an elaborate carving of a mermaid sitting on a shell, from which the water emerged. You could see the copper glow of coins at the bottom of the basin. There were benches around the fountain, and you sat down on one of them. The area was surrounded by tall trees that blocked off the other areas of the gardens like a dome. This place seemed perfect for reading or quiet contemplation.

You engaged in the latter, tilting your head back and looking up at the night sky. The first stars were emerging. It was truly nighttime now, but you couldn't bring yourself to go back. The thought of having to sit back down on that damned couch and be forced to watch that glittering world from the sidelines seemed like the worst torture in the world.

Why did Mother bring me here? You wondered for the umpteenth time. I could have been using this time to practice my piano or painting. Skills that will actually help my future.

As you stared up at the sky, you gradually sensed a presence near you. You slowly turned your head, preparing yourself to run. When you saw who it was, you nearly gasped.

A tall, stately figure was standing by the fountain. His long silver hair, tied with a ribbon, gleamed beneath the moonlight. His dark blue robes practically blended into the night. He was turned away from you, but you knew who he was immediately. Anyone who lived in Fontaine would.

The Chief Justice, Neuvillette.

What is someone so important doing here? And unannounced, no less.

The Chief Justice hadn't been an invited guest to the ball, you were very sure. For one thing, his arrival would have been announced with far more ceremony. For another thing, he was known to rarely show up to such events unless his presence was specially required.

He didn't seem to notice you were there at first, as he seemed preoccupied with peering into the bottom of the fountain. Has he dropped something? You wondered. And how did he get here without me hearing him?

You briefly considered going up and greeting him before ultimately deciding to sneak away and return to the mansion. Getting involved with someone as important as him never ended well for people like you. What if someone caught you two alone here? You and your family would become fodder for the tabloids.

Yes, stealthily taking your leave was most certainly the right choice here. You picked up your skirts and got up from the bench, then tiptoed slowly to the start of the stone path, carefully watching your step. You had just set your foot on the stones when a voice suddenly called out to you from behind.

"Good evening, Miss. What a lovely evening we have today."

His voice was low and smooth, different from the commanding tone he used during trials. Your family only had the luxury of going to the Opera Epiclese once or twice a year, but you could distinctly hear him ordering the audience to remain calm in your head.

Cursing inwardly, you composed yourself, turned around, and curtsied. "Good evening, Monsieur Neuvillette. My sincerest apologies for not greeting you first. You seemed to be in the middle of doing something important, so I did not wish to interrupt you."

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you wished you could take them back. They sounded sarcastic even to you. It was a nasty tendency of yours to say things without considering how they might sound to other people, even if they sounded perfectly well-meaning in your head.

However, Neuvillette didn't seem to take any offense. In fact, he nodded like your excuse was perfectly reasonable to him. "No, I should be the one apologizing for being so inconsiderate towards a lady. I let my whims get the best of me instead of greeting you."

"Oh, I assure you that it is no offense to me at all, Monsieur. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall return to the ball."

"Then I shall escort you."

"There's no need for that, Monsieur. It's not very far from here. And also…" you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Forgive me if I am mistaken, but I don't believe that you were an invited guest of the ball. It may cause some confusion if you were to suddenly appear here."

"Ah," he said, like he hadn't considered that. You noticed that he didn't deny being uninvited. "You're right, Miss. Then, will you allow me to escort you up to the arch at least?"

"...Very well, Monsieur. Thank you for your kind offer," you said, because it didn't seem like he was about to leave you alone.

The two of you began walking back in silence. Your mind was occupied with the burning question of what exactly was the Chief Justice doing in a garden without telling anyone, but you couldn't think of a way to bring up the topic without coming off as overstepping your position. But then, isn't he the one who's technically trespassing here?

"So, Monsieur Neuvillette, if you don't mind my presumptuousness in asking, what occasion brings you here?"

"Well…it is as I said before. I am simply here to indulge my whims. I was taking a walk nearby when I heard the delightful burbling of a fountain and couldn't help but come and take a look. Ah, do not worry. The owner of the estate already knows I'm here and has permitted me to take my walks in the gardens."

"Oh, I see," you nodded, even though you didn't. It was too dark to make out his face, but his tone sounded completely sincere and truthful. Not that you could do anything even if he was lying.

There was another brief silence. "And you, Miss? What are you doing here alone, away from the ball? I would assume that most young ladies your age would rather be there."

Normally, you would have been irked by such a question. You’ve heard it too many times in the past. But Neuvillette sounded like he was genuinely curious.

“There’s no need for me to come to balls, so I would rather be doing something else with my time,” you admitted. “I’m only here to accompany my younger sister, who has just come of age.” And because my mother made me come, you silently added.

“No need to come to balls? Are you already betrothed?”

“No, no, that’s not it,” Now you wished you hadn’t answered. It was awkward trying to explain this to an outsider. “It’s just that there’s no point in me being at them. I already know what lies in store for me, and there’s very little chance of it changing.”

“You’ve already decided what you’re going to do in the future? You’re quite the ambitious person.”

It seemed as though he misunderstood. How wonderful. You were somewhat hesitant over whether or not to tell him the truth, since people always acted like you told them you were going to move to the Fleuve Cendre or something like that, but you didn’t want to leave any misunderstandings. “No…it’s not as grand as what you might be thinking, Monsieur. I will become a governess.”

“A governess?” For the first time, you heard something other than polite interest in his voice.

You couldn’t blame him for his reaction. A governess was a role that befell women whose families declined in fortunes or who couldn’t find a husband. It wasn’t something anyone wanted to become. It was a thankless job with low pay and job security, not to mention being at the mercy of the whims of the rich. However, for plain, unassuming people like you with little wealth or connections, it was the only path you saw to survive in this world.

“Yes, Monsieur.” You didn’t really feel like explaining yourself. You learned the hard way that people like him wouldn’t understand anyways. "It is the role given to me in life."

“I'm afraid I do not understand. Were you forced by someone to pursue this path?"

"I wouldn't say forced, exactly. It's more that I'm making use of what limited resources I'm given in life. Governesses are always needed after all, and it's a perfectly respectable job for someone like me to support myself and my family."

In your opinion, some people were fated to become beautiful brides or famous adventurers, while others were destined to a life of being in the background. You knew from a young age that you were the latter. It was far wiser and easier to accept that and face it head on.

"Hmm…" Neuvillette said. He seemed to be thinking deeply about your words, which was a first for you. "You have very strong sense of purpose, Miss."

"I suppose I do. Although I prefer to think of it as accepting the inevitable. I’ve already been preparing myself for it, anyway. We are all given different roles in life by fate, and this is mine."

Neuvillette didn't say anything. Most likely, he was baffled by your words. You found that people got uncomfortable when you talked about fate, but you didn’t really know how else to explain it. Honestly, you were surprised at yourself for being so chatty as well. Maybe it was the darkness of the night, or maybe you drank too much champagne, but you found yourself talking about such things more easily.

At least he didn't attempt to change your mind or give you some cliched rousing speech to "follow your heart" or "never give up" like most others you told this to.

The two of you reached the arch, and the lights of the mansion appeared in the distance. You could even hear the music from here.

"We've arrived at the arch," you turned to him and curtsied once more. "Thank you very much for accompanying me, Monsieur Neuvillette."

"Ah…" he said, almost as if he was surprised by the abruptness of how you're leaving him. He's probably not used to being treated this way, you mused to yourself. "Before you go, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

You debated internally whether or not you should refuse. Having your name known by powerful people seemed like it could lead to trouble, but you couldn't think of any good reason to refuse him without making yourself look suspicious. You decided to compromise by only giving him your first name.

"Miss [Name]..." he said. Your name felt strange to hear your own name coming from his mouth. You weren't sure you liked it much. "I'll remember it."

That sounds weirdly ominous, you thought to yourself. He sounds like a villain who will show up later in the story when you least expect it. Your imagination liked to amuse itself in this way sometimes.

You said goodbye to him once again and headed back to the ball. You swore you could feel his eyes on your back as you walked away.

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#genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #my works #the winding path of fate #neuvillette x female reader

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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Crossing the Line | Part 5

The odds of finding one feral little metalhead in such a large city without any starting point to go off of were slim at best. Okay that was being generous, the odds were basically non-existent as Steve had been telling Robin for the past hour as they wandered the streets seemingly without aim.

“Rob, we should just buy the tickets and see his band! What’s the worst that can happen?”

“We lose our hearing to people who can’t play their instruments properly, you get rejected publicly, someone throws up on us, we wind up in the mosh pit and you get your THIRD concussion, someone spills their drink on me, or on you, you get recognised and publicly ridiculed for wearing a goddamn sweater vest to a metal gig because I saw you pack your bag what in god’s name, Steven.”

“It’s comfortable.” Steve grumbled in response, momentarily subdued by all of her good points “at least it’s monotonal.” It was a grey knit number, one of his softest. “And I was gonna put a black shirt under it.”

“Yep, no, we’re not doing that, you’re not wearing that. If we must go to the gig and I do mean if we must, you’re going to need another outfit, so we’re going to spend today shopping for that, then head back to the apartment and strategize. We can divide and conquer, you take one half of the city, I’ll take the other, we meet in the middle for coffee.”

“…One half of a city. Where even is the middle of it? How is that a plan?”

“Not the best first plan but it’s the planning stage of the plan, and the planning stage is AFTER shopping, so don’t judge the plan until the planning stage of the plan.”

“You said plan a lot.”

“Less talk more thrift shop, let’s go.” His hand grabbed and away they went. It didn’t matter how rich he was, Robin loved thrift shopping, and after meeting her and knocking down her walls of distrust and uncertainty until they became practically joined at the hip platonic soulmates, finding out how many little treasures you could actually find in those shops, he kind of loved it too. It was an experience he wouldn’t have ever gotten without her, an experience that only added to the down to earth personality that’d developed as he grew older with her.

He didn’t know who he’d be without Robin… probably the same douchebag everyone kind of expected him to be. The douchebag he’d been in his teen years perhaps, partying, drinking, doing drugs, trying to be something he wasn’t to impress the people around him when all they cared about was the vestiges of fame trickling from his being.

Perhaps she’d saved his life by just being there. So he’d indulge a little tomfoolery for her sake.

Even if it did wind up with his feet hurting and his arms aching carrying bags of things he’d never ever wear but might have to for true love, trudging down some random street while Robin looked for some weird non-chain coffee shop because Starbucks held no soul.

“Robin can we just— look, right there, Starbucks, we can go in Starbucks, it’ll be fine, in and out!”

“I’m not going in Starfucks, there’s always some idiot instagraming the weird spelling of their name on the cup as if it’s not a Starbucks ploy to get them free advertising.”

“Or someone claiming to be Voldemort as if the barista would actually shout “he who must not be named” for the brief moment of twitter fame reporting it would bring them.”

“Or tacky mass-produced merch.”

“Or overpriced desserts that aren’t worth it.”

“Or—Ooh!! Lookie, there’s one!” They probably could have gone on for longer, but Robin spotted the little brown shop with large dark windows at the end of the street with a hanging sign outside similar to one found on old bars only this one had two coffee beans on it with the word The Roast written in cursive around the beans. And up close it looked like every rustic coffee shop ever made.

Simple, lots of browns and warm white lighting.

“Down the road from a Starbucks? That’s a gutsy business move.” Steve hummed with the most basic amount of interest as he entered through the door Robin held open for him.

“Honestly you’re never more than a stones throw away from a Starbucks, pick any direction I bet we’ll find another within two blocks.”

“That’s fair.” They made it all the way to the counter where a lone, bored employee leaned heavily against the thick wooden countertop, flicking through a magazine of some kind, the board above him strewn with funnily named coffee drinks and little doodles to match them, Steve found his eyes drawn to that while the Barista released a deep

“Welcome to The Roast, what can I get for you?” Without looking up from his magazine.

“Alright, I’ll have a uhm—ow—Robin, what—ow would you stop elbowing me?”

“Steve.”

“What?” He followed her pointer finger to the man now looking at him with the widest, brownest, most beautiful Bambi eyes he’d ever seen in his goddamn life and all thoughts just kind of drifted away, replaced with the single word… pretty. “Oh…Hello...”

Part 7

#PirateWrites #Ficlet #Crossing The Line #Steddie #Steve “bi disaster” Harrington #prettiest boy is pretty #Eddie “Actual Bambi” Munson

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rioviaa · 9 months

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so I finally obtained the last memory for the captured memories quest. therefore I now have all 17 of them. complete. And I just want to jump in here for a second and just. Scream. Cry. Drop to my knees in the middle of a Walmart and die (like link hahaha too soon ueue) sooo..

his tattered clothing. the stains that are most likely mixed with wet dirt and dried blood. the clear exhaustion in his posture by holding on with the scarce amount of strength he has left. the way he forcefully lifts himself up with every last ounce of strength for the sake of protecting her. even if it costs his life. he stands before her. before the danger. becomes her shield. after months of standing behind her as her personal knight.

and just the guttural scream she let out here was just. wow. she refuses to stand behind. to stay behind. all her friends are gone. and in her mind she blames herself for it all. for being left behind from all the champions’ progress. from his progress. but no more. now she stands before him. shields him. she will not allow another one of her friends to fall due to her incompetence. no more.

listen. imagine seeing the stoic but kind knight who always protected you from harms way before thinking of his own safety. that has stayed by your side even during your worst tempers and sorrows. fallen. the rain falling on his battered clothing and soaking them beyond repair. the raindrops on his cheek and hair making the died blood and dirt smudging his features more, his hair damp and tangled. the master sword in an almost painful grip as if it were his lifeline. and it was.

gods this shot. this one right here. his grip never loosens. but his breaths stagger. his heart slows. the exhaustion of fighting for not only your life but most importantly her life from evening to midnight. a cruel way to loose oneself is by the fate of saving the lives of hundreds in exchange for your own demise while doing so. but he simply must make sure she is safe. must look into her eyes at least once before he feels his eyes give to the very darkness he gave his entire life to destroy. and my god i can’t imagine how Zelda must feel. to loose her last and only hope. but to also loose a friend she had learned to cherish along the way. Now left desperately searching for any ounce of life left inside his lithe body with her hands and sobs to his chest.

“princess are you alright?” except that’s the last thing on her mind at the moment. isn’t it? when she immediately redirects them to him and risking it all for the slim chance of the possibility of saving him.

her tone is so assertive here. He is her priority right now. Wow.

i just. have no words. her tone. was downright threatening. so powerful. the delivery of this line. impeccable. made shivers run down my spine just hearing it. she will have her swordsman saved. zero questions or doubts. an absolutely breathtaking cutscene.

Okay I’ll shut up now haha but god this scene racked my very core. Beautifully made and executed with the music and lighting. the tone and ambiance the voice acting the small details of their movements. yup this one has won my favorite memory.

little bonus of me trying not to burst into tears as Zelda’s horse nudges link with his snout after seeing the memory ugh im in absolute shambles over this game.

#botw link #botw zelda #botw memories #loz botw #botw #botw zelink #zelink #or they’re besties #i dig both honestly #botw screenshots #loz link #loz zelda #loz #loz breath of the wild #i am emotional #i am not okay #i am unwell #they make me ill #in the best possible way

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sadakorosee · 1 year

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S/O fell off the bed sleeping with Raphael (Oneshot)

Raph x fem!reader (Short fic)

Summary: Raph's S/O fell down to the floor from sleeping with Raph. Reader is 5'2 or below. (Shoutout to short readers) :3

Raphael is both tall and broad. His body can cover an entire bed space; what more to say when y/n was only 5'2 and she wasn't exactly chubby nor slim. She's a thicc chick.

y/n decided to sleep over at the lair because 1) training with Splinter starts early morning and 2) her house was a 20 minute walk. She felt she was exhausted to walk and asked permission to sleep over. Of course the Hamato family didn't mind. She is their family now.

It was [12:45am] when their movie Halloween was over and Mikey switched off the tv when he grabbed Donnie's arm while shaking.

"D-Donnie, you don't think Michael Myers is in the sewers while we're sleeping, do you?"

"Mikey, you're referring to Pennywise and he's from IT. Halloween murders occurs every Halloween, like the title is self explanatory enough." Donnie let out an exasperated sigh. "Seriously, why did you pick that movie when you know you're terror-stricken by it?"

"We all know what's going to happen; you'd stay up all night reading any comics with funny scenes in it and laughed so loud even Sensei's noise cancelling headphones don't work." Leo shook his head.

y/n looked up at Raph confused. As if he knows what she's about to ask, he waved it off. "Sensei requested it after Mikey got his first stereo box. It was my fault though; I brought it back after I kinda broke Mikey's-"

"My skateboard, brah!" Mikey retorted.

~~~

Everyone was fast asleep by [1:17am] including Mikey- well, he's trying anyway. He cuddled his teddy bear and mumbled something pizzas and interacting with humans above.

y/n was slump on Raph's plastron/chest as it goes up and down slowly. His right hand placed on her back to keep her in position. To an outsider, it was a cute sight but from where's laid, she can faintly hear snores from her mutant boyfriend and groaned when it got louder. Her hand tapped on Raph's chest as a way to say keep it down but instead of lowering it down, he snorted in his sleep and surprised y/n, her body jolted from shock and ended up on the floor with a loud thud.

"Damn it, Raph." y/n whispered through her gritted teeth and rubbed her aching lower back.

Raph woke up immediately by the thud and saw her on the floor with an annoyed expression.

"What are you doing on the floor, darling?"

"Looking for any expired pizza under your bed," y/n rolled her eyes. "For god's sake, Raph, snore louder next time. I can't hear it from down here."

Raph chuckled tiredly and carried y/n back to bed, placing his arm around her while he lied on his side.

"Did you hurt yourself?" he didn't forget to ask.

"I might break my hips. Maybe I should skip-"

"You ain't skipping Sensei's training." His eyes already closed but his lips formed into a coy smile.

TMNT Masterlist

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2016 #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt masterlist

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odiesdayoff · 2 months

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The Winner Is...

pair: Robert Fischer x fem!reader

summary: Robert Fischer's stuck judging this year's Miss America Pageant. That doesn't mean he can't use his position to his advantage.

warnings: extremely dubious consent!! (heed the warnings!); mean/condescending Robert Fischer; anal; blowjobs; deepthroating; unprotected sex; a bit of misogyny; power imbalance

made reader from Georgia because I've been watching a lot of Kim of Queens. I've never written a lot of this before so I hope you can enjoy <3 this is also on Ao3 so yea... feedback always appreciated!

but also your consumption is your fault so if you don't like the content well then you should not have skipped/ignored the warnings

ALSO happy valentine's day from me :)

“In your opinion, what is a way that young women can lead successful lives in traditionally male-dominated professions?” Miss America from 2003 spoke clearly into the microphone. She wore her winning sash across her chest and a sparkling dress.

On her left, a former professional basketball player crossed her arms and sat back. She won the finals for her team two years in a row and now she was stuck judging brainless, but beautiful women being asked sexist questions in the veil of feminism and the uplifting of women. It didn’t matter, though. She was getting paid.

On the right of Miss America 2003, Robert Fischer leaned on the judge’s table with his hands folded. Ever since he fumbled the business deal with Eclipse Solutions, Maurice thought that the best form of punishment was to take his spot as a judge in this competition. Initially, Robert thought that it wasn’t much of a punishment, but after a long week of nonstop noise and hearing these women yap about how they were going to change the world, he understood why his father made him.

The hard-on he was sporting towards the beginning of the competition was long gone. He couldn’t bear to look at any of them anymore. Even during the swimsuit portion, for God’s sake.

Your smile never fell. The swimsuit you chose emphasized your breasts and slimmed your waist. Saying that you chose it was an exaggeration, your coach said that if you could catch the eyes of Fischer and Johnson, who your coach was convinced was a lesbian, you would have it in the bag. You still weren’t too sure about it. Knowing that your body was getting exposed to millions of people over the television was enough to raise your anxiety.

Attempting to not look like a total fool, you took a deep breath and nodded in response to her question. “Well, as someone who is in the career path of accounting, I have faced a lot of adversarial coworkers and peers. I believe that the best way that young women can gain success is to keep their self-confidence and never stop allowing themselves to learn and grow both professionally and personally. The best way to prove your doubters wrong is to excel in the path that you choose.” You weren’t exactly sure what you were saying, but you had hoped that it came across as something really intelligent to the judges. This was a question you had practiced for so long with your coach, but your mind drew a blank.

Robert held back a laugh or at least a scoff. There’s no way he would hire you. With a face like that and the way you spoke, there’s no way that you knew how to do anything within the range of taxes or money. Probably a case of affirmative action, he was sure. Either that or you sucked the right man’s dick to get to where you were now.

Miss America 2003 grinned. “Thank you, Miss Georgia. What a lovely way of thinking. I wish you the best of luck! Mr. Fischer, do you have a question?”

Robert’s bright blue eyes pierced into yours, despite the fair amount of distance from each other. He leaned into his mic. “Do you believe that you get respected more or less because of your appearance?”

The question felt like a double-edged sword. The last thing the general public wanted to hear was that you thought you were beautiful. It weirded people out to acknowledge your beauty, according to your coach.

“While I do think that appearance does affect the way that strangers treat others, it’s in your personality and how you treat others that matters. For me, it doesn’t matter what someone looks like for me to respect them. People that base how they treat others based on looks aren’t worth your time.” You had only hoped that the foundation you had on was holding back the sweat threatening to fall down your forehead. Robert Fischer had been asking the most condescending and borderline rude questions to everyone. It was bound to happen to you, too.

“Mm. Thank you.” He didn’t look amused.

Music began to play and the audience cheered. You smiled again at the judges' table before leaving the stage in the T walk. Once you were off stage and out of sight of both the judges and the audience, you let out a sigh and released the way that you were sucking in your stomach. You had been doing pageants like this ever since you were a little girl and now, your dream of being in this competition was real. Why did it feel so humiliating?

There was only one final day. It was the evening gown portion and the announcement of Miss America for the year. After that, you could finally relax. That is, unless you won and would immediately have to start your training for Miss Universe. Maybe you didn’t want to relax, after all.

By the time the sun fell, most of the contestants were either spending their last night together in their hotel rooms and doing spa nights while the rest decided to go out to the clubs. You were advised not to befriend any of them by your coach to avoid feeling guilty when you eventually won and they lost. Now, you were alone at a nearby bar nursing a beer and listening to the band playing. It was a cover band of The Killers. Mr. Brightside was the current song getting butchered by the young singer.

It was freeing to be out of dresses and swimsuits and finally not showing off your body. You wore loose jeans and a top with a jacket over it. If they didn’t know you, nobody would even know that you were who you were.

You felt someone sit next to you. In a bar of several open seats, of course, they chose the one basically on top of you. They waved the bartender down and ordered a whiskey. The voice was familiar, one that was ringing in your head all day. You faced him to confirm your suspicions. Robert fucking Fischer.

The drink in your hand was what you tried to focus on. “Not very talkative off stage, huh?” It would be rude to ignore him, you knew that.

You shrugged. “My social battery is drained.” While it was partially the truth, he was the last person you wanted to be speaking to.

“You know,” he swirled the whiskey in his glass, “it’s between you and Miss California.” He took a generous sip of his drink as he let the information sink in.

Excitement and guilt mixed in your stomach. “You shouldn’t say that. We shouldn’t even be speaking, Mr. Fischer.” You finished your drink and stood from the barstool. His hand wrapped around your wrist and stopped you from taking a step away.

“You wanna win, don’t you?” You sat back down, mostly involuntarily, and met his eyes with your own again. They were almost hypnotizing. “I can make that happen.”

“What do you mean?” Questions ran through your head. Was he asking for a bribe? Maybe he had some sort of bet running on you winning.

He smirked at the sight of your intrigue. “This whole competition’s about who’s the best woman, right? They’re still forgetting about the most important thing that makes a woman.” He leaned in closer to you, his hot breath against your skin. “How well they can fuck.”

You waited a moment to make sure that he was being serious, hoping that he wasn’t. The lustful look in his eyes didn’t tell you that he was joking at all. “You’re disgusting.”

“Even if I am, I’m the deciding factor on whether you go down in history as a winner or as nobody at all.” He finished his drink and stood up, fixing his tie. “Johnson likes you. Miss 2003 wants California. It’s all up to me.”

If he was lying, rejecting him wouldn’t mean much in the long run. If he wasn’t, you probably would’ve spent the rest of your life regretting taking him to bed. “Someone will see us going to the hotel together.”

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you one of his room keys. “Room 704. Wait ten minutes and then come up.” Without saying another word, he dropped some cash on the bar for his drink and left.

The room key felt heavy in your hand. Was winning worth anything if it wasn’t honest? He better have a decent-sized dick if you were really going to do this.

You felt a hand tap your shoulder. “Y/n L/n? Oh my god, I’m such a big fan! I’ve been watching the whole pageant with my daughter, she loves you!” A woman shook your hand, feeling a bit too formal. The guilt grew in your stomach. How could you be a role model for little girls like this? “Can I have a picture?”

Despite your appearance, you nodded. The room key burned a hole in your pocket as you fixed your hair and took a picture with the woman. Hopefully, the dim light of the bar made you look better than you felt.

It had already been fifteen minutes since Robert had left. You finally paid for your drink and headed for the hotel. With each step, your anxiety grew. The elevator rose to the seventh floor and you stopped in front of 704. Instead of knocking, you pulled the room key out and inserted it into the door. The light flashed green and you pushed it open.

Robert was sitting at the edge of the bed without his clothes, stroking himself and staring at the door until you finally walked in. “You’re late.” You kept your eyes around his, trying to prevent yourself from looking any lower.

“I got caught up with something.” You took your jacket off and laid it on the office chair. Given his state of undress, you weren’t entirely sure whether or not you should strip now or wait for his instruction. He seemed like the type who was obsessed with control, especially in the bedroom. The last thing you needed was for him to get angry with you over something so trivial and ruin your chances.

He rolled his eyes. “Sounds like you don’t really want this, don’t you? To win?”

Frantically, you shook your head. “I want it.”

He pointed to the floor right in front of him and spread his knees further apart. You didn’t respond, knowing it was most likely for nothing, and knelt in front of him. For the way that he acted, you would assume it was because he was overcompensating. God, you were wrong.

His free hand grabbed hold of your hair and pushed your head closer to his aching cock. He leaned back. “You’re not gonna win just by looking at it.” You held back from commenting on his attitude and kissed the blushing red tip, the same color as his lips.

You flattened your tongue against the underside of his head, allowing his precum and your saliva to mix. After hearing the slightest moan of pleasure from him, which was an exhale at best, you took a few inches of him into your mouth. His hand in your hair guided you back and forth along his length.

“That’s all you’re gonna take? I think you could do much better than that.” He taunted, not pushing you down and wanting you to do it voluntarily. “Or, I could just call down Miss California. She’d love to deepthroat me.”

You tried to relax your throat and took him deeper. He was big, much bigger than what you were used to, but you could take him. You inched deeper until your nose pressed against his lower stomach and your breathing was constricted. “Atta girl.” He smelled like the generic body soap the hotel offered with a mix of his cologne. If you could focus on breathing through your nose and sucking him off the best you could, this would be over quickly.

Hearing his heavy breathing and attempts to hide his whimpers sent shockwaves down your spine. You felt the warmth growing in between your legs the more you pleasured him. “I’m about to cum. You’ll swallow, right?”

While you couldn’t answer, you made a sound of agreement that vibrated down your throat. You’d need to do some vocal treatment and tea tonight so you still could speak tomorrow. “Fuck.” He gripped your hair tighter as he came, ropes of cum shooting down your throat.

He finally pulled out once he had fully finished. You wiped a trail of cum and spit from your lips and looked up to him. “Not bad. Though, I’ve had much better. I guess I overestimated you. Take off the rest of your clothes.”

“What does that mean?” You cocked a brow. It felt even more humiliating considering your position in front of him and the way that you could still taste the remnants of his semen coating your throat.

“Oh, come on. You get a high-paying job straight out of college at a Big 4? You’re either a genius, which I doubt considering half of the answers you’ve given so far, or you’ve slept your way into the job. Now, strip for me.” He spoke matter-of-factly. It was like he’d already convinced himself of his theories, even though they were far from the truth. Couldn’t imagine that a woman like you could make her way up the corporate ladder without the help of rich and successful parents.

There was no use in arguing, you told yourself and took your clothes off until you were standing naked in front of him. “How exactly is the winner chosen? Aren’t there scoresheets? You’re making it sound like it’s entirely based on personal preference.”

He laughed, this time, a genuine one. “Scoresheets are arbitrary. We make those up to align with who we like the best.” He gestured to the bed behind him with his head as he stood. You followed his order and sat on the edge where he had previously been. His tongue flicked around his lips as he got a good look at you, sitting there so obediently for him. “Didn’t even touch you yet and you’re already dripping.”

You gave him your best version of doe eyes that you could, following the instruction of your coach. She always said that facial expressions were the most important aspect of impressing someone. If you could read the person and make yourself into their ideal partner, they’d be putty in your hands. Robert seems to like to be in charge and superior, but there was an underlying hint of something you couldn’t put your finger on. Maybe it was the desire to be nurtured?

“Can’t imagine you’ll feel that good. Not as tight as you used to be, hm?” He took hold of your knees and separated them enough for his hips to fit. He was slowly getting harder again and you felt his tip nudge your clit before gathering your arousal on himself. “How do you think we can remedy that?”

He jerked himself off using your slick, then moved the tip to settle against your ass. You immediately stiffened against him and put your hands against his chest. “No. I don’t do that.”

He groaned and took a step away from you. “Little Miss Georgia Peach is too good to take it up the ass? I’m trying to help you win, but I guess you don’t care.” He picked up your discarded clothes and tossed them to you.

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the hotel phone and began to dial a number. He checked his watch. The person he was dialing answered. “Yeah, hi. Annie? I need you to do something for me. If you could-” You almost leaped towards the phone and pressed the button, ending the call. Annie was Miss California, he didn’t even need to continue the call for you to understand what he was doing.

“I’ll let you!” You were nearly out of breath, your voice hoarse.

He had to hide his smile from his plan working. “No, sweetheart. You have to ask me for it. Specifically.”

“I want you to fuck my ass, Robert.” You gulped. If this wasn’t your dream, you wouldn’t be begging him like this.

“Turn around.” Once you turned, his hands were on your waist and his tip rested against your ass. He slipped two fingers into your pussy, gathering arousal, and then re-lubed his cock. You’d done this before, but it wasn’t something you necessarily enjoyed. The pain outweighed the pleasure. You just needed to breathe through it.

Your hands gripped the sheets below once his head was inside your tight hole. He slowly pushed further inside until he bottomed out. The white, hot pain was rippling through your body. You focused on inhaling and exhaling and continuing to hold tightly to the bedsheets.

He offered you some mercy, moving only after about ten seconds of being inside. After that, he fucked you as he pleased, entirely ignoring how you might’ve been feeling. You were gonna be sore tomorrow. “Fuck, this is how Miss America should feel.”

He pushed your face into the bed so that he could get a better angle and began to fuck into you roughly, rutting into you like he’d die if he didn’t cum within the next few minutes.

Confusion surrounded you when he pulled out and you felt a sudden emptiness. Not that you were complaining. He flipped you to your back and you could barely process what he was doing before his hot cum was spurting onto your breasts and stomach.

He pushed his hair back and caught his breath, taking a step away from you. “Get dressed and leave. I’ve got some calls to make.”

You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach at his confirmation of your win. Maybe it was the orgasm that had never reached climax. Either way, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

Pins pricked against your soft skin as they held parts of your evening gown together. Lights glare on you and your competitors on the stage. It took a lot of your might to not show the extreme soreness that you felt between your legs. You knew that if you were to touch your breasts or tighten the dress a bit more, you’d only be pushing further against the bruises Robert had given you.

The man in question sat in his chair with the other two judges, arms crossed as usual. He barely gave you a passing glance, instead, he focused on discussing things with the judges or looking at the other contestants. Maybe it was just a ploy to not make it seem like he already knew who was going to win. Certainly, that was it.

The announcer walked on the stage from the judge’s panel with an envelope in his hand. That envelope had your name on it, you knew. He was an irrelevant game show host that you remembered watching when you were home sick from school as a child. Whatever paid the bills.

You kept your award-winning smile on while the announcer took his microphone and began to speak about how the competition was the opposite of what most people thought when it came to beauty pageants. Mostly pandering and filibustering so that the program would be able to run another round of advertisements when they played it on cable.

“Well, I have in my hand the name of Miss America of this year. Without further ado, why don’t I open it and save these women some anxiety?” He laughed at his own joke while the audience cheered.

Miss California stood next to you on your left and Miss Connecticut on your right. As per tradition, you held hands with them while the announcer opened the envelope of the winner. You almost felt bad for them, knowing that they were going to lose.

The envelope was open. The announcer leaned into the microphone. “And the new Miss America is…Miss California!”

It was as if you were seeing things in black and white. Confetti fell from the ceiling and Miss California dropped your hand to receive her flowers and sash. You knew that crying would make you look bad, like a sore loser, but that’s the only thing that you felt like doing. You forced a smile and clapped for her.

Robert clapped for the winner, though his cold stare was on you. What you’d never forget was the smile plastered on his face.

He had won.

#inception #robert fischer x reader #cillian murphy x reader #robert fischer #odiesdayoff #cillian murphy

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