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multifandomfanatic02 · 1 month

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"One-Sided, One Receiver"

pairing: alastor x fem!reader

synopsis: Alastor has taken you in under his wing after being mistreated by the vees. Vox tries to confronts you about your feelings for Alastor in hopes that you come back to work for him. His plans of course backfire.

warnings: MDNI fuckin tentacle porn, alastor is fully clothed, no pp for you to see sorry, alastor and his dirty mouth, praise kink ig? fingering

word count: 1.7k words

a/n: my first time writing this kinda thing, please spare me. Also thank you to @rubra-wav for the cute divider omg. and my two favorite in character smut authors @hazelfoureyes (my hazel basil) and @jyoongim giving me the courage to do this ✨️🙏

You've worked with Alastor going on years now. He had taken you under his wing after the treatment you received under the control of the Vees. It was well known they weren't the nicest overlords around but they knew how to sell.

You were Vox's little plaything in more ways than one. He had you pegged to be a pretty good spy and information gatherer. Of course, your mission was always to look for signs of the Radio Demon for his whereabouts. Alastor was very meticulous and every clue left for you was purposely placed, and you knew that. And because you knew that, you never bothered to inform Vox of the very little "information." In which came at a cost of your job and nearly, your life. Vox often underestimated Alastor's smarts. Their own egos constantly bumping each other in the head.

The night you lost your job, you were found outside the Vees' tower, horribly bruised and broken. Hands clutching at the brimstone dirt to try and stable yourself in some way, you saw a pair of black boots standing in front of your face, the demon's cane setting down on the ground.

"Well my dear, it looks like you finally received Vox's boot." He chuckled in amusement and offered a hand to you to help you off the ground. "I'm impressed with how you've gone about finding my little clues, not many have managed to connect them back to me."

With your hand still in his, you two disappear into his shadow and find solitude in a different part of Pentagram City, away from the Vees' territory.

"I have a deal for you. Well rather a job." He states conjuring up a needle and glowing green thread along with a small first-aid kit. He talked his way through his prompt while mending and sewing your wounds. You accepted and that was that.

The years you've worked along side him he's been quite kind to you. Despite not trying to be, he was a charmer. Your feelings for him changed over time. You often caught yourself doing things you never thought you would for the Radio Demon. The man you were convinced to hate in your previous employment. You'd bend over backward for him if you could.

The role he gave you was to do exactly what you had done for Vox in the past. There was never need to leave his side for you to gather whatever information he needed so you never looked suspicious. You looked more like an assistant or an apprentice.

No matter what you looked like you were doing, Vox was deeply displeased. How dare you escape his grasp and go kiss Alastor's ass. It was insulting from both you and the Radio Demon.

There was more to your companionship that meets the eye. While Alastor was an oblivious man, Vox saw right through you. It was clear to him you had fallen in love with the radio demon. And with the way Alastor has reacted to confessions in the past, the TV man knew exactly how to ruin your relationship with each other and potentially along with the contract that was signed.

Checkmate.

"What are you doing here, old pal. Don't you think you are on the wrong side of town." Alastor's body was facing away, Vox's presence clear from his heavy breathing. His attempt to stay calm and collected.

"I am here to offer Y/N's job back." He stood up straight, folding his arms behind his back and turning his unfazed gaze to you. "I'm willing to raise your pay by a substantial amount if you come back to me."

"Not a chance, Vox. After the way you and the other Vees treated me? Go to double Hell." You spat at him, your eyes full of disgust and turning your body away from him.

Vox's smile creeped further up the screen, wholeheartedly expecting that to be your answer. The wrong answer. The one to ruin you once again.

"You come back to work for me and I won't tell Alastor your dark little secret. You get to stay in his good graces and I get my favorite little employee." He held his hand out to you. Alastor's silence completely deafening as he zones in on the strange conversation. What could you possibly do to fall out of his good graces, he thought.

Your expression faltering slightly before returning to it's stability. Was it that obvious? Did everyone see your feelings like an open book? He was unfortunately right.. if Alastor knew how you felt he'd probably ditch for another 7 years. Either way the outcome of this would be you trapped in the hands of the Vees once more. "You're confused Vox. I think you should take a break from all that porn."

"Do not pretend to not know what I'm talki-"

"I think I've heard enough, Vox. If you are referring to her romantic feelings towards me, there's no need to inform me. I already know." Alastor finally stepped out from behind you to stand in between the two of you. "The only difference here is that she has not forced those feelings upon me in which I quite respect. She will not be going with you."

Alastor tapped his cane on your back to turn you around and continue your walk. You give one last glance at Vox behind you, his face obviously fuming in embarrassment before disappearing into Alastor's shadow with him and reappearing in front of the Hotel.

You two stood in front of the doors in silence. Not really awkward just a little stunned.

"Sir.. you knew?" Your head was looking down to his shoes, scared to look him in the eyes.

"Dear, do not be embarrassed." He placed his cane under your chin, watching your eyes shift from the ground to his own. "I'm willing to make another deal with you if you allow it. This will be a one time thing. One night of your pleasure and you will give me your soul. Your services will belong to me for the rest of your immortal life."

Not to long after that were you in his radio tower. His shadowy appendages wrapped around your ankles and wrists, your ass resting on the buttons of his desk. You were already in the nude and he still sharply dressed. "Let's get a few things clear, darling. You will not touch me whatsoever, no I will not remove my clothing-" He spoke in the midst of taking his coat off and hanging it up on the hook to the side of the desk. He carefully rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt before turning his attention to you, continuing his sentence. "and do remember to make noise. I need this to be amusing for me as well."

The appendages snaked up your thighs, softly maneuvering themselves through your folds. Spreading your slick everywhere they could reach. Your shut eyes tightened underneath his delicate touch. Another pair of his tentacles made their way up to your face, pulling at the sides of your mouth, making you open your lips. One slipped inside your wet cavern, lapping up the saliva around your tongue. Moans now starting to slip out as it started to fuck your mouth, spit dripping down the corners of your lips.

"Now that's my good girl." Alastor's cold digits made their way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles, eliciting a well earned gasp from your throat. Not rough enough to jump start an orgasm but enough to be quite pleasurable on it's own. What pretty sounds he thought. Your legs tensed at his praise, his voice. It was deeper and more staticy than normal. Seemed he was enjoying himself more than he'd like to admit.

Removing the tentacle in your mouth, he replaced it with his own mouth. Your heart fluttered at the way he moved his lips against yours. Not exactly how you fantasized your first kiss with the Radio Demon but you'll take it. You groaned into his lips, grinding your hips into his steady going fingers. "Alastor.. please. I need you inside me." Heavy breaths passed between each word that escaped your mouth. This was your part of the deal so he was willing to give you whatever you wanted. Within reason of course.

The extremity wet with your juices slid up and down your cunt, spreading you as much as possible before slipping into you with ease. It wasn't his dick but dear god did it feel good nonetheless. Some boundaries had to be made after all but you were grateful for his generosity no matter what he offered. It's pace started off slow, simply trying to make it's way to your cervix before anything else. His lips still continuing to massage yours, going back and forth between licking your neck and kisses.

He was making every piece of your body vibrate with excitement and pleasure. Alastor's pace speeding up once he finally hit the end of your vagina, nearly making love to your cervix. His fingers began to abuse your now sensitive clit. It didn't take long before that long awaited tightness started to form in your womb. Your breath hitched and various parts of your body twitched, letting him know that you were approaching your end. "Are you going to cum for me, my dear? My precious apprentice."

With one last bite to your shoulder, you came undone on his tentacle and fingers. Continuing to rub you through your high. Your head rested against his shoulder allowing you to control your breaths back to normal. All his dark restraints dissipated, letting you free.

Alastor licked his fingers clean and rolled his sleeves back down, grabbing the coat he hung up and placing it back onto his shoulders. "Now I do believe you need a bath. Feel free to use the one in my room. Be back down stairs in an hour, we've got business to attend to later."

And with that, you now belonged to him in heart and soul.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin #the radio demon #alastor hazbin #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbinhotel #alastor imagine #alastor #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction

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pinkroseblooms · 3 months

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Boy Toy

Sugar baby!Toji Fushiguro x Sugar mama!f!Reader

Summary: You try to break things off with Toji; needless to say, he does not take it well. wc: 5.1 Warnings and tags: this story contains smut, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, begging, emotional manipulation, toxic behavior/relationships, some soft!dom/bratty!sub elements, a clingyyandere!toji, possessive behavior, obsessive love, some angst, some fluff, all twisted af.

a/n: I see a lot of Sugar daddy!Toji content and wanted to switch things up a bit with some emotional feels. I also ended up listening to Rick Montgomery's "Boy Toy" on repeat and got ideas. Personally I headcanon that if Toji ever did somehow develop genuine love for another person it wouldn't necessarily help him chill out this time around, he'd just become more unhinged.

His things are in a pile, close to the solid red oak door; they’ve been packed away in brand new luggage carriers and on top is the duffle bag Toji had initially used to carry his stuff in for overnight stays.

If it were anyone else, Toji would have expected the various articles of clothing and personal items that had steadily accumulated inside your spacious home to be thrown out carelessly like trash on your equally spacious lawn. That or burning in the firepit.

If it was anyone else but you, it’s what Toji would have expected, but you weren’t petty that way; even now as you stand before him, arms crossed, gaze almost blank, you radiate a certain measure of dignity. It’s one of those things Toji’s come to admire about you over the past year. It’s effortless, that magnetizing charm you exude; he liked it right away.

“You can keep the bags, sell them if you want.” Your lips form a small but rueful smile. “I sent you a check; call it a severance fee.”

“I thought I didn’t work for you anymore.”

Toji hasn’t considered you a client in months, though really, a mark was more accurate. You were disgustingly wealthy with a cute face and that was all he needed to pounce on the offer to be your bodyguard and occasional companion to the odd social events. Even cleaned up and polished, Toji was able to keep others away in droves, exactly what you were aiming for; you found social obligations tedious and his handsome yet intimidating presence kept everyone around you from lingering too long and insisting on taking up too much of your time and attention. Toji spent the first three or so months in your company essentially as an employee and he was satisfied with the arrangement. It would have been so easy and simple, it should have been, had you not burrowed your way into his head, like a bullet piercing bone.

Dammit he never should have fucked you. Toji had every intention of keeping things professional. He should have kept his distance, he certainly shouldn’t have let his fingers trace your skin after zipping up your dress, and damn you by the way for looking over your shoulder at him with those pretty doe eyes and not telling him off when the second you caught Toji leaning in, almost like he wasn’t realizing he was doing it, to get a whiff of your scent mixed with the perfume he had said was his favorite.

“You don’t have to keep the charade up anymore; it’s insulting at this point. I won’t force you to stay here.”

“You’re dumping me.”

“No. That would mean we were actually dating. Toji…Fushiguro-san, I made a mistake.” You’re almost talking to yourself as you look over Toji’s tensed shoulders to the entrance of your home. “I was fooling myself, thinking you could open your heart to me. But, I knew what I signed up for. So, no, I won’t leave you without any job security until you find your next meal ticket.”

“You’re not-”

“I heard you. Please, it’s not like you to back track on your words, so don’t start on my account.”

Toji was bragging over the phone, giving a verbal middle finger to an asshole of a former employer who demanded Toji’s services for a hit. You overheard him refer to you as a “piggy bank” with a pretty face, among other things. Shortly after ending the call, Toji left to work out (he couldn’t get too lazy, got to keep in shape to protect his favorite girl) and grab some food (on your card) only to return to this. You didn't even give Toji a chance to greet you with the usual flurry of kisses and a bear hug before telling him point blank he was leaving and now.

Even as Toji struggles to wrap his mind around your abrupt change in demeanor, with that practiced look of almost serene impassivity, you look so good to him, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and tiny bike shorts. You always dress down at home, in comfy, baggy things. Toji supposes you packed away all the sweatshirts you’ve collected from him with everything else of his.

“You won’t even let me apologize?” Toji stands stiffly in the foyer, next to the bags; behind him is the front door, still open, as if waiting for him to step outside. “It was all shit talking. I didn’t mean how it sounded.”

“That doesn’t make it better and it’s not just that. You’ve been hot and cold lately. Admit it: you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge me as anything but an obligation.” You exhale slowly, rubbing your temple. “I’ve tried to be understanding; you lost your wife and I realized it would be hard. I knew that, I knew there was a chance that no matter how close we became, I was never going to be enough for you.”

You put up a good front, but Toji can recognize the faint tremble in your voice, see how your jaw locks slightly, as though you’re holding back curses. He’s hurt you.

“Baby, c’mere?” Toji opens his arms with a pleading half smile. “You’ve been stressed lately, that’s all. You’ve been working hard and I haven’t been showing my appreciation properly, is that it?”

“Oh spare me. Listen, I won’t swear revenge or sick henchmen on your trail.” You go on, calm as can be, not budging an inch. “The check won’t bounce and all your things are there; if I missed anything, I’ll send it to you. You’re free to go.”

Toji stares at you in disbelief, arms dropping to his sides. You could have just as easily said "you're dismissed" with that cutting tone of yours.

“Are you fucking serious?”

When you fail to respond, he suddenly turns from you, but not to storm off. Instead, Toji slams the front door closed so hard, it’s a wonder the whole structure didn’t come crashing down. You don’t so much as flinch when Toji strides up to get in your face.

“I want my stuff out of these bags.” he snarls. "Now."

“There’s no need to make a scene. It’s not like you’ll be without a benefactor for long; I bet you could find another meal ticket just walking down my driveway. The whole neighborhood is full of lonely rich women, you can have your pick.”

“You’re not a meal ticket. You know that, you know I didn’t mean it dammit!”

“Enough.” You raise a hand up, your voice clipped. “Fushiguro-san, you have your things, plenty of money, and my own promise to leave you in peace. What more could you possibly want? What exactly is it that you’re holding out for? You don’t expect me to fund you indefinitely, I’m sure.”

"Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even give a shit?"

Toji’s hands clenched into fists; he’s radiating power and murderous intent, but you don’t look swayed or even scared. You know he wouldn’t strike you. Just the idea sickens him; no, it’s not you he’s actually angry with.

“I’m a fucking idiot who wanted to show off, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Fine. Now we’re gonna talk this out like adults, I’ll put this shit back-"

“No, you will not. I want it gone. I want you gone. Don’t you understand?” You tell him firmly, eyes finally averting to the pile of bags. Toji’s puffed chest deflates at the sadness that finally touches your inflection. “I’m disappointed enough as it is; can’t you do this one thing for my sake? Why are you insisting on dragging this out?”

“I want to put it all back.” Toji blurts out stubbornly, so loud his voice echoes in the high ceilings. “You can’t do this to me, I want to stay.”

“Excuse me?” You snap. “What exactly am I ‘doing to you’?”

“Come on, this is so silly, kicking me out over a misunderstanding.” Toji lowers his voice, a smile coming to his lips as he attempts to charm you once again, hands coming up to gently grasp your shoulders. “You’re breakin’ my heart here. You said it yourself, it’s a been over a year, you know me-”

“Do I?”

“Yes!” Toji steps forward, a strained grin on his lips. “You do. You know me and you know you’re my best girl.”

“Out of all the others?”

“Best and only; I haven’t been with anyone else in months.” Toji rubs his hands over your arms but you only give him a look of derision. “I’m not lying; tell you the truth, ever since we went out to the beach, it’s only been you. Remember that trip?” he grins softly, nuzzles your temple; he knows you want to lean into him, you’re just being stubborn. How adorable. He loves when you get grumpy and need his help relaxing. “I showed you how to make a fire and we fell asleep outside on the hammock. That night was something else...you’ve been the only one ever since. Baby, I swear, there haven't been any other women.”

Toji inches closer, hands shaking slightly where they grip your shoulders; his love bites are still visible, some more faint than others; his arms ache to hold you. You’re so close, so what’s with this wall you’re putting up?

"I want to believe that."

"It's the truth."

Toji isn’t sure how or when it began, but before he knew it, you were calling just to talk and ask how he was doing, if he needed anything. You requested he join you not just for meetings as extra muscle or posing as a date, but on walks and meals, having conversations about the weather to debates about the nature of man to whether toast was better with jelly or jam. You’d take Toji out randomly on shopping trips and end up buying him pretty much anything that caught his eye. Anything Toji wanted, he got, and along with it you increasingly showered him with praise and affection.

When the sex began Toji thought he got you out of his system the first time, only to end up not just repeating these trysts, but staying longer and longer after he fucked your brains out. It was borderline embarrassing, how quickly Toji found himself lulled in by your pillowtalk as you encouraged him to sleep in, promising you’d have breakfast ready for him in the morning. Sometimes, Toji would come over when you weren’t even home with the spare keys you gifted him and promptly burrow himself in your bed until you were due home. The whole room smelled sweet and it was so cozy being wrapped in the down blankets. Toji's eyelids would get heavier as he wallowed in your scented sheets ike a pig rolling in mud until the combined aromas of your perfumes, lotions, and natural scent clung to his nostrils, soothing and oddly familiar; within minutes Toji would be out like a light. After some of the best rest he had ever gotten, Toji would wake up to you stroking his head, petting him like a dog, and asking him what he would like for dinner.

Eventually, inevitably, came the point of no return. During that beach trip Toji told you about his past; he didn’t go into too much detail, mainly that he had loved someone and he was pretty sure lightning only struck once. You didn’t get jealous or angry; you simply kissed his knuckles and put your hand over his, not saying much of anything while Toji spoke. That night on the beach you held his hand and allowed him to reminisce at his own pace into the early hours of the morning, until he was too exhausted to do anything else but hold you and the two of you stayed that way until noon.

That peaceful, almost unreal night, Toji realized you actually gave a shit about him and he didn’t know what to do with that. Regardless, you made it clear you didn’t expect to own his heart and soul. You only promised to take care of him.

“I was being stubborn, you know how I get sometimes. You’re my one and only, baby, can’t we just forget about it?”

“I want you to leave.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“No!”

Toji’s hands cup your cheeks and he winces at the disgust in your eyes; why are you looking at him like that?

“Okay, okay, let me make it up.” Toji’s voice is sweet as pie; he leans in, practically purring in your ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll show you how sorry I am.”

“Get. Off. I knew you were shameless, but this is...”

You might as well have slapped him across the face; Toji’s smile falls as you glare like he’s some repulsive insect, a leech, like the thought of him touching you is making your skin crawl.

Toji’s hands retract from your face, expression blank. “You’re really serious.”

“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look. As if you don’t have women on speed dial to call up. Why don’t you make up with one of your other meal tickets? I’m sure they’ll have forgiven you by now for however you wronged them-”

“I told you there isn’t anyone else. Don’t do this.” Toji mutters, head hanging; his chest throbs, he can feel sweat trickle down his temple. “Don’t make me go.”

It’s doubtful you could forcibly remove Toji from your presence, but that’s beside the point. It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“No, I’m really sorry.” Toji falls to his knees. “Don’t make me go.”

“Hey, wait, what are you…?”

Toji wraps his arms around your thighs, face pressed into your waist; you stiffen but he hangs on tighter, fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.

“Please, don’t make me. I wanna go upstairs, back to our bed. Listen, I,” Toji pries himself away from you just enough so he can look at you with glassy eyes. He’s panicking now, babbling and frantic as you try to pry off his arms. “Stop that! Baby, I got all messed up about getting too attached and I-I didn’t mean anything I said, you gotta believe me.”

“Toji, let go!”

A cold sweat makes Toji’s already tight shirt stick to his tensed back muscles; he feels like he’s being choked. How could you do this to him? All he wants is to stay with you, whether it’s as a bodyguard, a hired companion, a fuck toy, hell, he’ll settle for being your pet if that’s what it takes to get you to take him back.

"You promised you'd take care of me." he mutters, ignoring your vain attempts at freeing yourself from his unyielding hold. "I don't...want it to be anyone else."

Toji won’t let you go. You’ve made him lazy and spoiled with your pampering; he doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to, never has to worry about money or food or rent, and he never has to wake up alone anymore. Whether Toji’s angry, tired, bored, or as of late, happy, you’re the first person he thinks of. You give him everything and now you’re trying to cut him off.

"You let me go right now!" You slap at his shoulders, try to pull back his head from where it's pressed into your midsection. "Are you even listening?!"

With a distressed moan, Toji nuzzles your tummy, kisses the skin peeking out from your sweatshirt riding up under his forearms; his rough hands relax their grasp a fraction to caress your hips.

“Let me stay. I won’t answer calls from my old bosses, I’ll quit betting. If I look at another woman, gouge my eyes out. All you have to do is tell me how to fix things.” Toji smiles at you, one he knows makes women weak in the knees. “Don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll make it up, I swear. I’ll do anything you want.” he promises between kisses and nips to your skin. “Why are we wasting time arguing? You know, I can make you feel so good. My poor baby, spending all day working so damn hard; you deserve better. I'll help take the edge off...you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can help, just-”

“Toji, stop-”

“Just let me dammit!”

Toji feels you freeze up; you’re looking back at him with wide eyes. His stomach drops like a rock.

“Sorry…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

No. Now you look scared, maybe a bit concerned; is that for him? Toji can feel some warmth creeping into his chest in spite of everything; you’re so good to him. You went to so much trouble for him and he has no idea why.

You can’t do this. You can’t treat him like a thing to be cherished and then take it all away. Toji just wants things to go back to how they were that morning, with you feeding him berries and syrup drenched pieces of fluffy pancakes, giving him teasing kisses in between each bite, asking what his plans were for the day as he lounges in your lap, wondering what he did to deserve to be so content and full and happy. You made him so happy.

“Shit.” Toji sniffs; he can feel them coming but can’t stop the tears leaking from his eyes. “Shit.” he curses again, bowing his head until it’s resting against your tummy again. “You can’t…you can’t leave me. I won’t let you. I won’t let you abandon me. I can’t-”

“Toji, calm down.” Your voice softens considerably. “Look, do you understand why I’m upset with you?”

“I know, I know I fucked up okay?” Toji croaks, still clinging to your legs. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? I already said I would do anything you want, so just tell me!”

“Sh, come on, breathe. I need you to calm down, alright?” You bend at the waist slightly, to card your fingers through his damp hair. “Okay, I believe you. I do. I believe you, Toji.”

“Are you gonna kick me out still?”

“No, I won’t for the time being. We can sit down and talk about-whoa!”

Toji wastes no time; he has you lifted off the ground in his arms. You quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders as he makes a beeline for the stairs.

“Slow down!” You glance backward in disbelief at how easily he bounds up the carpet steps. “How are you so strong? Don’t drop me, okay?”

But Toji doesn’t answer; he practically bolts, finally reaching the next level, races down the hallway until he’s at the door to your-the bedroom he and you share. Toji’s heavy boot easily kicks the door open, somehow without breaking it off the hinges; in record time you’re on the bed, but shockingly, Toji doesn’t start stripping you down.

“Toji?” You ask tentatively; he seems fairly out of it and you can’t help feel worried. “Toji, what are you doing?”

“Baby, I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed, huh?”

Toji kicks off his boots, gently sits you down in the middle of the mattress among the fluffy pillows and the cheap plush bunny he won for you at a crane machine. Nearly hyperventilating, Toji climbs into bed after you, snatches the sheets and comforter to wrap around the two of you in a soft cocoon. Toji grabs you, cradling you in close as he tries to even out his breathing; for a fleeting second you wonder if this is what stuffed animals felt, if they could become sentient, when children held them tight for comfort. Your attention is brought back by the man rubbing his face into your hair insistently, as if he could tell your mind had briefly wandered.

“Hey, are you-?”

“Don’t make me go.” Toji cuts you off hoarsely. “You love me, right?”

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“I do love you.” You confess sincerely, words muffled slightly due to your face being squished into his chest; his heart is beating a mile and minute. “I was hurt, alright? I want to be good to you, Toji. You have to let me though; you’re not the type to dance around an issue. I just want you to be honest with me and yourself.”

“Yes, yes, I want that. You’re so good to me, baby, thank you.” Toji wraps his legs around yours; if there was a way for you to mold into him he’d make it happen. “Can I move my stuff back in?”

“I…” You hesitate. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”

“What? No we aren’t. If anything, we're not moving fast enough. Are you still thinking of leaving?” Toji grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him; his eyes look crazed. “You’re not right? You just fucking said you loved me-!”

“Hey, hey.” You put your hands over his gently. “If you really meant what you said before, you have to listen and be good. Can you do that for me?”

Toji nods quickly. You smile for him, finally, and it's a sight for sore eyes. How do you always look so pretty? Toji’s chest throbs and he hugs you, making your ear press against his heart; you can hear it, right? It almost stopped dead when you were glowering at him, Toji still can't believe he was so close to losing this. It's not going to happen again.

“I wanna touch you.”

Toji separates from you as abruptly as he had squeezed you to him; he hovers above you, tugging on the band of your shorts, your panties. He groans pitifully when you still look unsure. Toji hikes your legs up until your ass is pressed to his chest and he’s face to face with your pussy, still covered up. That won’t do: wordlessly, he rips the seams of your shorts apart and pulls your panties to the side. Gently spreading your pussy lips with his fingers, Toji makes sure to look you in the eyes while he lets a long trail of spit trickle from his tongue to your exposed clit.

“See?” he licks a long strip over your slit, salivating at the taste. “I’m drooling for it, just like a dog….heh, I can be your dog. Is that what you want? I’ll fetch and roll over and beg.” he traces his tongue around your swollen clit. “All you gotta do is ask.”

You can barely form words, forget making requests, as Toji slobbers, licking and sucking until you’re dripping wet. Your hands grip the pillows and your head rolls back and forth; you can hardly speak and you’re more squealing than moaning when Toji starts using his fingers to fuck your soaked pussy.

“I’m loyal too. You’re not ever getting rid of me.”

Toji pulls back, kisses and nips the inside of your thigh as he watches his fingers disappear inside you over and over again. He’s smiling down at you, dumbly, in a daze as you let out soft cries with every pump of his wrist, every time his thumb rubs a touch too hard on your clit. He’s the only one who gets to see you like this, composure gone, face flushed, eyes wide, hardly able to do more than moan and whine at his touches. Toji’s smile turns devilish; he purposefully pulls his fingers out and shoves them back in to draw out the squelch sounds from how wet he’s made you. He slowly drags his fingers out all the way and you inhale sharply from the sensation.

“It’s my turn to spoil you.”

Toji lowers your hips down on the sheets and quickly shrugs off his sweatpants and underwear; his cock bobs when it’s released and you’re a bit shocked at how hard he is despite not touching himself.

“Let me fuck you.” Toji rocks his hips, cock over the inside of your thigh. “You still want me, right?”

And if you think he’s going to stop at one round, if you think for a second one time is going to be enough and you somehow still plan to have him out on his ass, maybe you don’t know him. Toji’s fingers dig into your ass; he’s rutting now, throbbing and dripping precum all over you and the bedspread. It brings a twisted grin to his face, like he’s marking his territory. After all, this is where he belongs. If you won’t be persuaded by his touch and words alone, Toji has other ways, he just doesn't want to resort to making you afraid of him.

Because he meant exactly what he said: you're not getting rid of him. If you try to, Toji will just come back. If you run, he'll chase, if you hide, he'll come looking. You've made him into this.

“’M being good, yeah?” Toji lowers his head to your chest to slobber over your nipples next, barely able to speak with his lips sucking and his tongue flicking over them. “I can keep making you feel good, just let me fuck you, let me put in in, let me wreck you-”

“Toji, I want to ride your cock tonight.” You play with his hair and kiss his jaw. “Can I?”

Toji doesn’t hesitate; he throws himself back to lie on your pillows, getting even harder as your scent hits him. He licks his lips in anticipation as you straddle him, stroking him once before lining the tip up with your pussy. Toji’s eyes roll in the back of his head as you slowly sink down, clenching tight; he has to grab at the sheets and force himself to be still, has to keep telling himself this is for you, he’s going to go at your pace and show you how good he can be, obedient and careful. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and he loves it-

“It almost hurts. You're so hard.” You gasp when you’re fully seated on his cock. “Oh, Toji…are you going to cum soon?”

“Nah, don’t worry about that baby.” Toji grins up at you, face flushed and hands shaking as they cling to the pillowcase. “So good…it feels so fucking good when I’m all the way inside. Go on, use my cock to cum, ride me until your pussy can’t take it.”

You tilt your hips so the tip of Toji’s cock rubs against that spot that makes you see stars and your clit gets rubbed against him with every thrust. At first you have your hands over his chest, but when Toji tries to slide his hands up to grab at your tits, you stop him.

“Huh?”

“No, you don’t get to touch me.” You pant out, gently but firmly holding Toji’’s hands above his head. “Tha-that’s your punishment.”

Toji’s brow furrows; he’s practically pouting. He knows he said "anything", but he wants to touch you so badly. Your tits look good enough to eat, nipples slick and begging to be played with, and your skin feels like silk on his fingers. Toji watches, biting the inside of his cheek, tasting blood when you start bouncing, thighs taut and face contorted in pleasure as you get closer and closer to making a mess on his lap.

“Baby,” Toji groans. “Come on, let me, you’re close right? It’ll feel better.”

“I can cum like this.” You say playfully as you tap his pursed lips with one finger. “You said you'd be good.”

“Just wanna touch you....” Toji’s hands twitch but he doesn’t shake off your grip; he raises his hips and you let out a whine. “Please?"

You stop moving and Toji grits his teeth, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Hey…why did you stop?”

“Sorry,” You smile in genuine delight. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”

“Fuck, keep goin’,” Toji nibbles the tip of your finger before you pull it away. “Come on, keep making my dick wet,”

“So cute.” You cup his face and press a long, loving kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Toji, I really do.”

Toji can’t stop himself; he yanks you down, traps you in his arms and thrusts up.

“Ah!”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry baby. I gotta,” Toji slurs. “Ah fuck it.”

You shriek as Toji flips you over; he has your legs spread and lowers his face down to suck and kiss and bite at your breasts, slamming his cock as deep inside your pussy as he can go. He briefly touches your hair, patting your head as you scream and writhe, smiling down at you so warmly even as his cock splits you open.

“Can’t help it. Need it, need this so fucking bad.”

Toji latches onto your neck, sucking so hard you think he might tear the skin; you cry out and your nails accidentally scratch long, red lines down his back and shoulders. You’re clawing and sobbing, completely overwhelmed underneath him. He’s fucking you like an animal with no regard for pacing or rhythm, holding you down and open for him to slam his cock inside your swollen little pussy. Toji straightens up to grind himself into you just the way he knows you like best, gently rubbing away at your clit, smirking at the way you gush around his cock. You’re so pretty like this, flushed and messy for him.

“Tell me again. Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum so hard your legs shake.”

“Love you,” You gasp, arms wrapping around Toji’s bulging neck, drawing him in closer; you press kisses over his cheeks, nose, chin. “I love you, I-ah!”

Toji is done being patient; he keeps his thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it harshly as he grinds his cock right into that spot, deep and hard; you’re never going to forget how his cock feels. Toji kisses you none too gently, lips prying your mouth open as he shoves his tongue down your throat; he really doesn’t even mean to be rough this time. The desire to devour you is overtaking him.

He’s so close. Your pussy’s soaking, his head’s spinning; just before Toji’s about to cum, you muster up enough energy to hold him back tightly and pet his hair, moaning softly into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. Toji wanted to last longer, but it’s too much. Abruptly, he breaks the kiss and his mouth goes to your jugular; Toji swears he can feel your pulse under his teeth.

“Cum inside me.” You plead, whimpering into his ear. “I want it…want you, Toji, no one else.”

“Shit.” Toji presses his forehead to yours, hiking up your thighs; the bed is creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Toji goes rigid and still as he cums, cock suddenly painfully sensitive; when you smile tiredly and kiss the palm of his hand, actual tears well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s all too much. He didn’t know he could even still feel like this, feel much of anything anymore. You shudder from his hot cum gushing inside you, but Toji doesn’t pull out just yet and you don’t seem in a hurry to move him anyway.

“I think you broke my dick.”

“...pardon me?”

“Pretty sure your pussy drained me dry…fuck.” Toji chuckles tiredly, very slowly pulling himself out, smiling in satisfaction as his cum seeps out of you and onto the sheets. “Did you like that?”

“I loved it.” You tell him softly, just beginning to catch your own breath as Toji uses his shirt to gently wipe you clean between your legs. “Toji?”

“Yeah?” Toji tosses his shirt somewhere and lays over you. “You want me to get you something? I bet you’re real tired after that.”

You pause; you look very serious all of a sudden, all business once more. “Toji, we really should talk about ‘us’. I don’t think we can just return to what we were.”

“What? But you said you loved me.” Toji raises his head to glare at you. “You’re not seeing other men, so put that idea out of your fucking head.”

“That is not what I meant!”

“Okay…what is it then?”

“I was going to say, are you sure this is what you want?” You ask carefully, looking into his eyes. “Is this really what you want?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Toji can’t believe you even have to ask; he frowns and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Fair warning, I’ll find you if you try to leave before I wake up.”

“I don’t doubt it, you’re an excellent tracker.”

“I mean it.” Toji mumbles into the crook of your neck, his heavy arm over your stomach. “You run, I’m hunting you down.”

“I wasn’t planning on making a grand escape; I was thinking something more along the lines of breakfast in bed.” You suggest and smile at the way Toji’s visibly perks up. “Oh, have you had dinner yet?”

“No, I came straight here from the gym.” he lies, eager to have you fuss over him. "I'm really hungry..."

“I’ll order in something; what do you want?”

“Anything, just get lots of it.” Toji squeezes you. “But don’t go yet though. Wanna stay like this a little longer.”

“Whatever you want.”

In minutes, Toji is snoring and curled up in your sheets like a tuckered out puppy; his leg even kicks randomly. When he wakes up to the smell of warm food and your nails gently scratching his scalp, Toji yawns with a groggy smile and opens his mouth for you to feed him, licking crumbs off your fingers greedily. You really do spoil him.

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dotster001 · 7 months

Text

For Tuna:Blackmail End

A/N: for those who asked if I was still doing endings to "for tuna"....yes. I know it's been a while, but I'm slow and have depression! I'm sorry 😭

Part One Part Two Part Three Choose another ending

"Congratulations Leona! Don't blow this."

"It's dishonorable," Jack muttered as he listened to Grim and Leona outside the door.

"Heh, yeah," Ruggie said, not really listening.

So you were going to end up with Leona, huh? He had his suspicions, Leona had to be one of the wealthier students at this school, but it didn't make the sting any less.

Grim was smart. Whatever story he would spin, you'd no doubt fall for.

"I gotta go," Ruggie muttered, walking away from the door.

"Ruggie," Jack called after him, but he didn't want to listen to what the goody two shoes freshman had to say.

He needed to clear his head. He'd never have been able to be with you. He didn't deserve you, and even if he did, he couldn't support you. Not when he was already supporting his granny, and all the kids in his area. You certainly were also capable of working and helping to support him and his family, but legally, you didn't exist in this world. It would be hard.

Especially if Leona rescinded his invitation to continue working for him after graduation. Which he would, if Ruggie "stole you".

Ruggie realized he had wandered himself over to the courtyard. He sat under a tree, leaning back with a groan. He rubbed his tired eyes, trying to get the image of you on Leona's arm out of his head.

"Ruggie!"

Man, he must be hallucinating. You were burned in his mind, and in his ears, apparently.

He felt someone standing in front of him, and cracked open an eye. You were smiling at him excitedly.

"Can't you see I'm trying to rest?" He snickered.

You rolled your eyes. "You hang out way too often with Leona."

"Well he is my esteemed employer," he laughed. His eyes flicked over to your hands. "Whatcha got there?"

"Oh! They're dandelions. Before you come at me, they're seeding, it's too late to eat them."

"Then why are you holding them? And so gently, may I add."

You gently, slowly, handed him a seeding dandelion. Then you sat down next to him.

"Blow on it. Make a wish."

"Huh?"

"Just trust me! This is one of the only ways we can do magic where I come from!"

He sighed, but you looked so earnest. So he made a silent wish, and blew on the dandelion, just as you did the same.

"So what did you wish for?" You asked sweetly. He opened his mouth, but you grinned wickedly. "Just kidding! You can't tell me, or it won't come true!"

He rolled his eyes. "That's not how magic works. Besides, my wish is never going to come true anyway."

"Not with that attitude!"

"Not with any attitude. It isn't going to happen."

He leaned against the tree again. You sat quietly, scrutinizing him.

"Well, I wished for a man."

Ruggie snorted at your abrupt change in attitude.

"Any particular man? Remember, if you tell me it won't come true. Shi hi hi."

"Oh hush," you snorted. "Let's see, he's kind."

So not Leona, Ruggie thought with an internal, evil snicker.

"Someone who'd help me fix the dorm, even if he's already super busy. Someone who goes out for a snack, and comes back with a dessert that tastes like sardines. Someone who accidentally started my cat son on a pointless quest to find me a wealthy bachelor so that he can earn mine and Grim's love with tuna."

Ruggie blinked a couple times, slowly mulling over the clear description of himself.

"Huh."

"Yeah. Huh. Still not a wish that's gonna come true?"

He bit his lip, looking off into the distance.

"It can't come true," he tried to sound calm, but he couldn't ignore the bitter tint to his words.

You stiffened. "Oh. Any particular reason why?"

"I can't support you, Y/N. You deserve the world. And I can't give it to you."

"Well, you're thinking super far ahead. I won't even graduate until a year after you. Plus, I don't need supported. I'm a big kid. I can work."

"You deserve the world," he repeated, looking over at you with palpable heartbreak in his eyes. "And my one chance to give it to you will go away once we're together."

"Dude, you're completely losing me. What the fuck are you on about?" You raised a brow.

"Leona offered me basically a lifetime gig with him after graduation. But he's as in love with you as I am. And he's not exactly the most reasonable dude on the planet."

"So you love me too?"

He rolled his eyes. "That's what you got from that? Of course I love you! I wouldn't fix your shoddy building for free, now would I? I'm not that good a person."

"Sure you are," you said softly as you pushed a stray piece of hair off his face.

"You're missing the point! Leona-"

"The Ruggie I know wouldn't be worried about the jealous anger of a kitty cat who isn't even dating me," you said sternly, and his mouth snapped shut. Logically, you were right. But-

"The Ruggie I know, would join me as I take a trip to Savannahclaw with the intention of blackmailing his ridiculously wealthy housewarden, so he can keep his job and date his true love."

He couldn't even remember the trip, or how it got to this specific point, but damn, were you sexy snapping at Leona about this.

"And another thing!"

"Sevens, shut up, herbivore. You're hurting my head," Leona groaned tiredly. "And my heart. Do you really think I'm this cruel?"

"Huh?" You seemed just as startled as Ruggie felt.

"Sevens, you clearly love the guy. Just cause I'd definitely treat you better, doesn't mean that I'm an ass who would punish Ruggie if you both feel the same way about each other."

He gave a pointed glare at Ruggie. "Does he feel the same way about you?"

Ruggie nodded quickly.

"There. I'm not a monster. You're a good worker, it'd be stupid to lose you over something like this. Just be careful," Leona snickered, and leaned in close, his eyes predatory, his smile smug, "you slip up, I'm going to be right there."

"Fair enough, shi hi hi," Ruggie extended a hand to Leona, the both of them participating in a handshake.

"Sevens, you two are so difficult to understand," you muttered. Ruggie turned towards you with a grin.

"Now that I have my future secured, you wanna know my wish?"

"What was it?" You asked, clearly having a guess.

He stepped close to you, nuzzling his nose against yours. "You promise it'll come true?"

You hummed.

"I wished for a box of a dozen donuts."

You turned on your heel, stalking away, and he laughed after you. "Obviously I wished for you!"

"Whatever, Ruggie."

He chased after you gleefully, for once looking forward to the future.

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @neech @kazumify @owlisbuffering

#for tuna #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucchi

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thepascalofus · 8 months

Text

First Date

AO3

Pre-outbreak/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x Home Depot Worker!f!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: Working at Home Depot was lack-luster. The paint department brought in a variety of customers, the majority of them just buying their paint and leaving. Then Joel Miller comes in--looking to repaint his daughters bedroom.

Content Warnings/Tags: Pre-outbreak/No-outbreak, reader works at Home Depot, fluff, meet-cute, rude customer, Joel defends you, eventual smut (next part), eventual first date, no descriptions for reader, no y/n.

A/N: Got this as a request! There will be another part with smut.

“More saving. More doing. That’s the power of the Home Depot.”

The wannabe gruff voice of the Home Depot narrator echoed throughout the large cement warehouse. It was Sunday, only two hours until close, and the store was virtually dead.

A large rectangular box of a warehouse was your place of employment for the time being. Orange decorated aisle after aisle, and employee after employee. Some employees decorated their aprons in paint and pins, showing their years of employment and dedication to their jobs. Others simply had their name written on their apron, just like how they simply showed up to work and left.

After moving out of the house you shared with your ex and into your own place, you needed the extra income to supplement your new rent and the remaining rent you owed on your shared lease.

Home Depot was hiring—and was desperate—because you got employed in the paint department.

Making paint wasn’t hard at all. It was the shitty customers that ruined it. Customers would demand to see a manager after you told them their paint wasn’t ready—even though they asked for three five-gallon buckets, and ten single gallons, fifteen minutes ago. People would order the same amount in a color they swore they would love, and then attempted to return it the next day, even though NO REFUNDS was printed in bold on the Home Depot paint sticker.

But, working behind the paint counter had its perks. You could stay in one place in the store, telling customers who needed help with complicated items that you, “had to stay and watch the desk.” Plus the desk had a phone, which allowed you to call any department, so your more knowledgeable coworkers could take over tough questions.

The only types of customers left at this hour were those that had emergencies, and those that liked to put things off until the last minute.

Getting tired of sitting behind the desk’s computer on your phone, you got up and walked the three aisles that made up the department. Your footsteps lightly tapped against the gray concrete of the floor. With each step, you scanned the shelves and the floor for anything out of place. Returning misplaced items was an easy task that helped you eat away at the remaining time of your shift.

A tube of caulk was placed right in the middle of the gallons of wood stain—classic. You reached downwards to retrieve the tube and stood back up, pacing down the shelves of orange towards the caulking aisle. The music over the loudspeakers was just quiet enough to hear the surrounding conversations in the other aisles.

One voice echoed to you louder than the rest. Randy’s voice.

Randy was a retired mechanic. Most of his skills were applicable to the questions customers often had. The man had wiry, white hair that peaked out from this Home Depot baseball cap he wore everyday. His apron was covered in various stains of grease and dirt, his name scrawled in Sharpie on the upper right corner of the orange fabric.

From a couple aisles over, his gruff voice made its way towards you, “Ah! Paint for a bedroom…Well let’s see, is this a kids bedroom?”

A deep, Texan drawl replied to Randy, “It is, ‘s fer my daughter. She wan’ed her room repainted for her birthday. She’s turnin’ thirteen. Says she needs to get rid’a the ‘baby colors’ from when she was lil’.”

Randy let out a hearty laugh, followed by a muted smack, likely from giving the man a pat on the back, “I know how that feels,” Randy paused to let out another laugh, “My daughter is in her twenties now, but she was the same way as yours. Thirteen hit and she insisted she was allll grown up.”

You retreated to the paint desk with a small smile on your face, it was nice that the man wanted to repaint for his daughter. Your watch told you it was an hour and thirty until close. This customer just had to wait until the last minute, though.

The unknown man let out a chuckle at Randy’s anecdote. Slow, muted steps from both men made their way towards the paint department’s aisles. One of the men let out a deep sigh.

“Thing is, I dunno a single thing ‘bout what colors’ll look nice together.”

The footsteps came closer and the two men appeared in your vision. One central aisle lined up with the paint desk, making somewhat of a runway for customers to walk on to come and request paint. Randy looked down the aisle and his gaze met yours, “Oh! There she is,” Randy said your name to the man, “she knows a ton about colors, I’m sure she could help ya more than I can.”

Randy truly was a nice man. He helped you deal with rude customers. Showed you basic tips and tricks. Ate with you in the break room on occasion.

But, c’mon Randy.

The old man continued walking towards the break room and left the man standing at the end of the aisle. You looked down, pretending you didn’t hear the majority of their conversation. Organizing the paint samples became a very consuming task. Heavy steps made their way closer and closer until your peripheries were consumed with the navy blue color of the Texan’s shirt.

His large hands rested on the desk’s countertop. Thick digits were covered in calluses. Before you could observe his fingers more, he cleared his throat.

“‘Scuse me, miss. S’wondering if you could help me w’ somethin’,” the man drawled out.

Your eyes looked up from the desk, and they widened in surprise. The front of his shirt had orange letters displayed on the front: MILLER CONTRACTING LLC.

Most contractors that ventured into the paint department weren’t as…put together as this man was. The usual paint covered pants and shirt weren’t present on this contractor. The navy blue of his work shirt spanned across his wide chest and even wider shoulders. Sleeves hugged his biceps deliciously. If he moved his arms any more you were worried the sleeves would rip. Not that you’d complain.

Then you looked up to meet his eyes.

His eyes.

Brown irises held eye contact with you. They were deep, warm. Inviting. The color made you think of a teddy bear. Soft and comforting. Brown hair on his head and face matched his eyes. The hair on his head consisted of messy waves combed to one general side, probably from a sweep of his fingers. Short, dark brown hairs made up his beard and mustache. Each facial hair component framed handsome features. A strong jaw was framed by his beard, and plush lips were framed by the ‘stache.

The same lips were forming a smile spanning across his face. His eyes crinkled and displayed slight lines near the corners. Lines developed from years of laughter and smiles.

Realizing you looked at him blankly for a second too long, you snapped out of your trance, “O-of course! What do you need help with?”

His hands came up off of the counter and rested on his hips. “Well, y’see, it’s my daughters thirteenth birthday comin’ up. She’s had this yellow color in ‘er room since she was a baby,” he let out a small sigh, as if he was reminiscing, “an’ she wants ‘er room repainted.”

You heard the conversation he had with Randy before, but you didn’t want to come off as a creep for eavesdropping. “Ah, ok! That’s nice of you, and seems easy enough! Do you know what color she wants?”

He let out another sigh. His eyes met yours. The man looked like a sad, lost puppy. “I know her favorite colors, pink and purple, but there’s just so many options,” he turned and gestured with a broad hand towards the rainbow wall of paint swatches. “An’ darlin’, I tried to do m’own research, watchin’ some Martha Stewart shows, but then Martha started talkin’ about warm colors and cool colors,” he let out a chuckle accompanied by a broad smile, raising his hands in front of his chest, “and then she lost me.”

Darlin’.

Other customers called you that condescendingly. When you didn’t know the difference between one screw and another. But the man’s endearing use of the word made your heart melt.

You smile back at him and lean forward on the counter. “Well, I think the first step is just the color. After that, we can worry about warm tones and cool tones,” you gave him a playful smirk.

He chuckled once more. “Sounds like a plan t’me,” he started walking towards the paint swatches. You snuck out from behind the counter and followed him to the pinks and purples.

“So I was thinkin’ of doin’ both pink and purple, but I dunno what looks good together.” The man started reaching for a card of pink. You took the moment to admire his forearms. Thin, dark hairs covered the surface of his tan skin. Muscles flexed on the front of his arm, displaying the years of manual labor the man has endured.

A pink swatch, Valentine, appeared in front of your face, accompanied by a lavender swatch, Kiss and Tell.

Valentine was bright, Barbie pink. Kiss and Tell was a light purple, the color the wax of a lavender candle would be. You admired his dedication to doing both of his daughter’s favorite colors, but the pair didn’t look too great together. The corner of your mouth perked up, displaying the thought you were putting into the pairing.

“No?” The man asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. His brows slanted downwards and his eyes resembled those of a lost puppy.

“Hmmm. Does she usually wear lighter colors,” you pointed towards the lavender swatch, “or brighter colors?” You gestured to the pink swatch.

He looked down at the swatches and his brow furrowed. The man was standing so close, you could smell cedar and musk from his cologne. His large biceps slightly brushed your upper arms as he turned to face you, “I reckon she likes the lighter colors.”

You took the lavender swatch, Kiss and Tell, from the man. Your fingers brushed against his thick, calloused ones as the card came into your possession. “Ok, so we’ll stick with the light purple! Let’s find a pink to match this one,” you smiled at him and he returned the expression.

Turning your body slightly towards the pinks, you started picking swatch after swatch off of the wall. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the man watching you in awe. Once several pink cards were in your hands, you went back to the paint desk.

You laid the cards out on a blank, white piece of paper. Five pink swatches were in a row on the paper with the lavender swatch below them. The man stood next to you and leaned over your shoulder to get a better look. A husky voice drawled in your ear, “So which one d’ya think, darlin’?”

You bit your lip at the warmth in his tone. A small shiver traveled up and down your spine, leaving a tingling in its wake. His tone was warm, and so was his upper arm. It grazed against your arm and left it warm and fuzzy. Brown eyes scanned over the options and then locked with yours.

His gaze was incredibly soft. He looked desperate. The image of a lost puppy crossed your mind yet again. A small smile was spread on his face, roping you further into your tiny crush on the customer.

You give him a small smile, which his eyes crinkled further at, and you inform him, “Unfortunately, I can only give you my opinion. I can’t make the decision for you.” One of the man’s eyebrows raised and he gave you a slight frown. “Why’s that?” His voice lilted in question.

Giving him a slight shrug, you explain, “Well, I’ve made decisions for people before, and sometimes they come back and blame me for ‘ruining their walls’. I can tell you what I think looks good! Buuut I’m not going to decide for you,” you gave him a sweet smile.

Cedar and musk filled your nose again as he leaned closer. Your gaze dipped downard and followed one of his large hands. The calloused fingertips on his thick digits gripped the paper, and dragged in between the two of you.

His opposite hand was set next to yours. A strong arm brushed against you. The hand holding onto the paper spanned across the page, “Well, tell me what’cha think, hon’?”

Hon’.

The feeling was quick, but intense. It washed over you like a soothing, warm bath. Ease seeped into your bones and then crept up into your cheeks. Your face felt hot at the term of endearment. Turning back towards the swatches, your lip found its way behind your front teeth once more.

You went through the details of each potential pairing. Telling him which ones you thought were too warm, too muted, or too cool. The best pairing was with a light, baby pink. The swatch read:

First Date

Reading the color name, of course Behr had a weird color name for a damn light pink, your face got even hotter. Your hands collected the other pinks and set the light pink and light purple next to each other.

The man picked the two cards and held them up to each other in front of his face. His gaze scanned the names of the two cards. “Kiss and Tell,” he softly muttered, his eyes gliding across the other name, “First Date,” he gave a slight smirk. It was as if he read your mind, he bit his lip, then released it. His tongue darted out to soothe the pinch on his bottom lip.

“Ok darlin’,” he started, “how much paint do I need for a ten by ten room?”

“Well, a gallon covers three hundred to four hundred square feet,” you trailed off, “depending on how many coats you want to do, you’ll need one to two gallons.”

His mouth scrunched up to one side and he hummed, “How much is a gallon?”

Your mouth slanted in thought, “Well, it depends on what type of paint you’re looking to get.”

He smiled and tilted his head at your words, “Typa paint? Darlin’, I thought there was just paint,” he softly chuckled out, “an’ I usually make my brother do the paint shoppin’.” His confession brought a smile to your face. It wasn’t uncommon. Whenever people bought paint, they were slightly taken aback at how many questions you needed to ask them.

You started to walk to the left, towards a mat laid out on the paint desk counter. The brown mat displayed different qualities and brands of paint, which increased in price as you looked towards the right end of the lineup. You took a breath to start your usual line of questions, “Okay, so how many coats of paint are you looking to do? These paints,” you slid your finger to the more expensive end of the lineup, “have more primer in them, so they’re thicker. The thicker the paint, the fewer coats you have to do. Some paints have a one coat guarantee,” you finished and looked to his eyes to read his expression.

His mouth repeated its action from earlier, scrunching to the side, “Hmmm, I s’pose one coat would be less work…” He went silent for a moment as he thought. You could almost see him running the numbers in his head. “Alrigh’, I think I’ll go with two gallons of the one coat,” he finished by placing one of his hands down next to yours on the mat. The man’s eyes twinkled as he looked into yours and gave you a soft smile.

The smile he gave you was returned with your own, “Okay! So what sheen do you want the paint to be?” His smile shifted into confusion once more. Lines on his forehead deepened due to his perplexed look. “Sheen?” He asked.

You gave him a soft giggle. Reaching across him and towards a board of wooden paint swatches, you gave him a small, “‘Scuse me,” and his cologne filled your nose once more. Your shoulder brushed against his arm on your way back to your original positioning.

Facing the swatches towards him, you explained, “So sheens are how shiny the paint is once it dries. You can have no shine, which is a flat sheen, and you can go all the way up to very shiny, which is a high gloss. Usually bedrooms are eggshell or satin,” you pointed to the corresponding wood pieces. Tapping one of the shinier samples, you added, “And the shinier the finish, the more durable it is, and the easier it is to wipe, if you wanted to clean the wall.”

You leaned towards him, pointing at one specific wood sample block, “If your daughter likes to draw on the walls, I’d get satin, or even a semi-gloss.”

He huffed in amusement at your suggestion. “Guess I forgot kids draw on walls,” he chuckled, “Sarah’s ‘n angel, she prefers paper instead of drywall.” His wholesome anecdote made you giggle and look into his eyes.

The man gave you a small wink in response to your laughter. Taking a breath in, he pointed to a wooden sample a few spaces above the one you pointed at, “Lets go w’ eggshell.” His finger dwarfed the block of wood as he gave the material two light taps with his fingertip. Gazing at his hands, they were calloused, but also well kept. Fingernails at the ends of his thick digits were trimmed short, utilitarian.

You smiled at his decision, “Okay! Well, I’m going to go make labels for these two gallons and then I’ll mix ‘em up for you!” He beamed at your words and leaned against the counter, “Sounds good t’me, sweetheart.”

Your face flushed with heat at his response, and you hurriedly went to the other side of the counter to enter the two gallons into the computer. A white screen filled your vision as you tapped the different buttons to narrow down which type of paint the computer needed to calculate formulas for.

As you tapped one button, the computer froze for a couple seconds. You frowned, “It always does this,” you thought. Not having to focus on the options on the screen, your vision instead focused on the reflection displaying what was behind you. Your eyes landed on the Texan man.

And his eyes were on you.

You watched as he bit the inside of his cheek, his mind lost in his thoughts. His gaze remained on you until he nodded to himself and looked down. Though he wasn’t observing the different paints on the mat, he was reaching into his pocket.

One of his hands sprawled out on the counter as he held down one of the paint samples and began to write on the paper in black sharpie, the item he retrieved from his jeans. The computer wasn’t too far from the counter, and you were semi-able to see what he was writing.

It was a phone number.

Your eyes widened and you returned your focus to the computer's screen. It definitely loaded a while ago and you hadn’t noticed. You pressed the, “PRINT LABELS” button and tore the stickers from the printer. Not making eye contact with him—still panicking over what you witnessed—you made your way down the center aisle and found the cans needed for the paint colors.

But your lazy coworkers haven’t been downstocking the cans, so they were just out of reach when you were on your tip-toes. You sprawled your fingers up towards the top of the can, hoping to find the handle with your finger tips.

Then heavy steps made their way over to you. The Texan’s signature cologne wafted towards you, “Lemme help ya’ with that, darlin’.” Before you could answer him, he reached and grabbed two gallons down from the just-out-of-reach shelf. He lifted them up so you could see the faces of the can, his face framed by two paint cans, “Are these the right ones?” You nodded, and he made his way back to the paint counter with them. Internally swooning at his help, you followed behind him, but returned to the opposite side of the counter as him.

He set the cans down with a, thunk, thunk, and smiled at you. You gave him a smile as you took the cans, “Thank you,” you said to him. His smile broadened, “‘Course.”

You brought the open gallons underneath the tint dispensers, each gallon getting a small amount of tint. Hammering echoed throughout the store as you closed each gallon, then put them in the paint shakers to mix.

Looking up from the floor, where the paint shakers were, back to the counter, you saw the man’s thick fingers tapping on the surface of it. Your eyes traveled from his fingers to his face. His gaze met yours and his lips parted, “What’cha got goin’ on for the rest of the night?”

You had to force your mouth to not smile too wide as you answered him with a sigh, “Just finishing up my shift, then going home,” you paused to think about what else to say, “I’m just glad I don’t have to work for the next two days,” you chuckled out.

His face and shoulders fell playfully, “Oh, I’m jealous,” he shook his head, “I’ve gotta work the next four days, n’ then I’m off for two.” He shook his head even more. Your lips slanted in sympathy and you were about to offer it, but the man continued, “Never become a contractor hon’,” he let out a breath, “I’s shitty hours ‘n shitty clients.”

Brown eyes widened and then looked at you, he placed a wide palm over his chest, “Sorry sweetheart,” he chuckled, “Jus’ had a long day.”

You laughed at his apologetic behavior, it was endearing, “You don’t have to be sorry!” You continued to laugh, but then lowered your voice. Leaning towards him, you murmured, “Home Depot has shitty hours and shitty clients too,” you winked at him.

His teeth shined in the broad smile he displayed for you. A series of laughs left his chest. Two large hands both rested on the surface of the counter as he looked down and, more quietly, continued his chuckling. After a couple seconds, brown eyes peered back up into yours. The twinkles in his irises matched his smile.

“Hope I’m not a shitty client,” he joked, but his eyebrows faltered in sincerity.

Your head tilted at him with soft eyes. Scrunching your lips to one side, you decided to be somewhat bold, “I think you’re one of the best I’ve had in a while.”

His face relaxed and his soft smile returned. The lines between his eyebrows became more prominent as he gave you those brown, puppy-dog eyes. “Well thank ya’, darlin’,” he drawled. You held his eye contact until you caught movement in your peripheral—his thumb brushed against the light pink paint sample. The dark mustache above his lip twitched as he bit the inside of his cheek again.

Click. Click.

The sounds indicated the timers on the paint shakers were up. And the gallons were done mixing. Breaking eye contact, you bent down to retrieve the gallons from the machines. Opening them up, you put your finger into each can and dotted the color on the top of the can. They were closed once more and you slid them over to the man across the counter.

He looked down at them, and then his face lit up. “Oh! D’ya mind puttin’ these colors on my account?” You were equally lit up at his request, as customers usually didn’t care about the paint accounts they could make to save their paint colors.

Using the computer closest to him, you tapped a few buttons and a series of fields popped up. You pressed on the field for a phone number, “What’s your phone number?” You asked him. Your face heated up at the meaning of the words in a different context.

He told you and you typed them in, pressing enter on your keyboard. One account popped up: JOEL MILLER. “He definitely looked like a Joel,” you thought to yourself. “Joel?” You asked out loud to confirm it was his account. His name tumbling from your lips made his face light up. A charming smile was framed by a dark beard and ‘stache. “That’s me,” he replied.

You clicked on the account and entered the colors under, “Sarah’s Room,” Joel told you. The information was saved after a press of the “SAVE” button. His hands came up to grip the thin, metal handles of the paint gallons. Sliding them off the counter, his mouth opened and then closed again. He bit his lip, then looked at you, “Thank you darlin’, have a good night.”

Your brow dropped a bit, expecting for him to give you his number—for different reasons this time. Before he got too far, you replied, “Of course! Have a good night, Joel!” He threw you a wide, toothed smile over his shoulder. Joel’s smile was wide, but his eyes lacked the same enthusiasm.

—

No one else approached the counter after a couple minutes, so you retreated to the computer to “do your training”. You sat on your phone, letting the training video play in the background—this video was literally anti-union propaganda. Mindlessly scrolling on social media, your thoughts wandered.

You felt dumb for expecting him to give you his number. He could’ve just written something else down on the card. Sighing, you turned and meandered the paint aisles to keep yourself busy. With slow steps you wandered past can after can. You made it to the third aisle, and a man stood at the end of it.

He had dark brown hair, wore a navy t shirt, and was built like Joel. Your footsteps became faster to greet him, but then the man turned and looked at you—it was not Joel.

The man sighed and rolled his eyes, “Finally, I’ve been waiting here for five minutes looking for one of you.”

Your eyes widened, the tone of this customer sharply contrasted the one of your last. Joel’s kind eyes and comforting drawl made this man’s voice compare to nails on a chalkboard. Staring at him, you realized he didn’t look like Joel at all. The rude man’s facial hair was unkempt and scraggly. His teeth must have had the same maintenance as this beard, as they were begging for a trip to the dentist. His hair had no style, not even a brushing of it in a general direction.

The awful whiny, rasp of his voice only heightened your disgust, “I’ve been looking for this thing,” he held his phone out and pointed at his screen, “it says you have it in stock in this aisle but I can’t find it.”

You hummed in response. After asking him to scroll down to view the products information, you typed the SKU for the item into your phone. The Home Depot app on your phone was the only way you could help people, otherwise you'd be lost. You typed the SKU into the app and made sure the app filtered for items in your store, not just the available items online.

OUT OF STOCK displayed under a picture of the item, next to your store name. You sighed, “I’m sorry sir, but it looks like we did have this item, but it's out of stock right now.”

The man’s eyebrows knitted together and he looked at you in shock, “What?” The word shot into your chest. Shit. You thought back to what you said to Joel earlier, “Home Depot has shitty hours and shitty clients too.”

You sighed, “Do you have the right store listed on your phone?” The man snapped his eyes to his screen confusedly. After a moment he held it back out for you to see, “I don’t know, you tell me,” he sneered.

Reading the “130 IN STOCK” on his screen, your vision trailed to the store next to it. That store was in a completely different area. Clearing your throat, you informed him, “Sir, that’s a store one hundred miles from here.” You braced for his reaction.

His screen faced him and he grumbled. “Well why doesn’t your damn app update the location when I search?” He rudely asked. Your breath caught in your throat at his harshness. “Can’t you look in the back if you have it?” He stated, like he worked here.

Another deep breath, “We don’t have a back sir, we do overhead stocking,” you looked up, “and I don’t see the item you’re looking for up there,” you swallowed. Heat flushed into your face in anxiety at the customer’s attitude.

“Fuckin’ useless,” the man spat under his breath at his phone, peering up at you. “Can’t even find a damn item,” he trailed off. Your throat clenched at his words. A shaky breath left your nose.

Heavy footsteps came from behind you and a wave of distaste washed through your bones. You swore if it was another entitled customer, you were going to go insane. Probably cry. Maybe scream. Definitely asking to go home early.

Someone cleared their throat behind you, “You’re bein’ quite harsh to ‘er for somethin’ that ain’t ‘er fault,” a Texan drawl announced. Recognizing the voice, you turned to see Joel’s built figure make its way over to you and the shitty client. A huff from the rude, scraggly man came from your left, “This ain’t any of your business, buddy.”

Your head snapped towards Joel to see his response, “The hell it ain’t,” his voice got slightly louder, “You’re the dumbass that can’t jus’ say you were lookin’ at the wrong goddamn store.” Eyes wide, your gaze shifted from one man to the other. Joel stood tall, brows furrowed, and muscles bulging in the sleeves of his t-shirt.

Scraggly man must have decided the argument wasn’t worth it, as he just grumbled and took his cart down the aisle and away from both of you. Joel sighed beside you, “‘M sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I knew ya coulda handled that, but he shouldn’t have been so rude to ya. Especially over his own damn mistake.”

Relief flooded your body in the absence of the shitty client. Warmth from Joel’s presence began to fill the rest of the space that the relief couldn’t. Then you started thinking, “How’d you know he put the wrong store in the app?” You asked Joel.

The contractor froze. Eyes wide. Brows towards the ceiling. Lips pinched together. He looked down at the cement floor and then back up to you, “I may have been eavesdropping from the aisle over.” He cocked his head towards the aisle he came from.

Joel took a deep breath and then cleared his throat. The same brown, puppy-dog eyes from earlier met your irises. He dug his hand into his front jeans pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Unfolding it, a light pink—First Date—sample card had a number in black sharpie scrawled across the color. “I came back to give ya this,” he held the paper out for you to take, and you took it from his large digits.

You stared at the card in shock. Okay. So he did plan on giving it to you.

He sighed and rubbed a broad palm over the back of his neck, “I was gonna give it to ya’ earlier but I got nervous,” he chuckled, “I, uh, I jus’ thought, uh, I think, that you’re very pretty, and funny.” He cleared his throat once more and continued, and you tore your gaze away from the paper to meet his eyes, “An’ I’d like to take ya’ out on a date sometime.” A heavy breath left his lungs.

A moment passed before you grinned at him and gave him a little chuckle, “I’d go on a date with you, Joel.” Broad shoulders covered in navy fabric slumped in relief. He grinned at you and his face flushed—he was blushing.

He checked his watch and muttered, “Shit.” Looking at you, his brows furrowed, “Sorry, darlin’, I’ve gotta run. Havin’ family dinner tonight.” Your heart throbbed at the care he had towards his family.

You waved a hand at him, heat rising towards your face at the loose plans you two had, “Well, don’t let me make you late!” He nodded at you, “Have a good night, sweetheart,” he said before slowly walking backwards down the aisle and away from you. “You too, Joel!” You replied before he turned the corner.

About to turn the corner, he shot you a grin with a wink.

Okay. Maybe working at Home Depot did have its perks.

#the last of us #joel miller #thepascalofus #tlou #thepascalofus fic #first date fic #thepascalofus first date #pre outbreak!joel #joel miller at home depot #home depot!joel #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #thepascalofus requests #joel miller fluff

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stardust-kenobi · 15 days

Text

moonlight & heartbeats

Hunter x Fem!Reader

Summary: A year after being rescued by Hunter from near-death on Tantiss, your peaceful life on Pabu is plagued with rampant nightmares. Hunter, now your close friend, senses your distress one night and comes to check on you.

Word count: ~5.5k

Warnings/tags: SMUT (piv sex, fingering, oral, dirty talk), hurt/comfort, mutual pining, mentioned violence, friends to lovers trope, Hunter cheesily senses reader’s heartbeat, the usual “use of his abilities” smut tropes, sorry not sorry<3

A/N - this has maybe more backstory than necessary but I decided my porn would have SOME plot this time. Enjoy <3

Read on AO3

Partially requested by @yunggoblin. Hunter uses his hearing more than his scent here but still goes along with your prompt :)

The rain poured relentlessly from the darkened sky. Your clothes now weighed heavy upon your beaten figure. The metal beneath your knees felt more unforgiving by the second. The trooper behind you, a clone trooper, held you by your shoulder, keeping you firmly in place.

Your trembling body barely had the strength to sit upright as you painfully craned your neck upward to the steel blaster barrel now level with your forehead. Just moments before, you were sheltering from the attack on the base inside Hemlock’s ship that you were repairing. A mechanic. You were just a mechanic. They’d accused you of treason, and there was no right to a fair trial if they’d thought you betrayed your mighty employer.

"The Empire thanks you for your service" The well-dressed Imperial officer spoke blankly as his finger hovered over the trigger. You’d never even seen him before, and somehow he held the right to take your life.

Your heart sat uncomfortably in your throat as your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the final breath you'd ever take.

Just as the blaster fired, your vision went hazy, and your eyes flashed open.

You found yourself sitting upright in your bed, panting frantically as a bead of sweat dripped down your temple. You grasped at your chest like it would help you breathe better, but you knew it was useless. It was only the third time this week you'd had the same nightmare, or at least, some variation of it. Usually in your nightmare, you were in the rain, as it truly happened. Other times you found yourself elsewhere on Tantiss base. Regardless, the dream always ended with a blaster at your head, reliving what you thought was going to be your final moments.

That is, if you had not been rescued by Clone Force 99. Had it not been for Hunter stealthily jumping into action. He didn't know you, not at the time. He saw a woman seconds away from execution and didn't think twice. You wonder, though, why he saved a woman in imperial dressings. What about you made him see you differently among every other imperial he and his squad killed without hesitation that day on Tantiss?

You were a mechanic for the Empire, and barely one at that. You were in training at the time of your near-execution. Somehow, your skills working on speeders on your outer-rim home world caught the attention of an Imperial Admiral during their invasion of your planet. You didn't have much choice, but you tried to make the best of it.

A few weeks into your job, you were accused of tampering with the safety of Admiral Tarkin's ship. It wasn't true, but your word meant nothing once you were accused. Truthfully, you never signed up for what the Empire had planned for you anyway.

Almost a year had passed since that day, but it never seemed to get any easier. The warm and happily endless days in your new home on Pabu were an oasis compared to your days serving the Empire. Unfortunately, though, even in a paradise of unbothered territory, the Empire still held you in its grasp with these unrelenting nightmares.

Your head rested heavily in your palms as you leaned over the side of the bed. Your roommate was thankfully gone for the night, so you were confident that no one heard your panting and muffled pleas for mercy in your sleep.

The beating of your heart began to pump the breaks ever so slowly. Looking around your home, you felt comfort in knowing you were safe. It always took you a few moments to let it sink in:

It wasn’t real.

The Empire cannot hurt you.

You are safe.

Your attempted solitude was abruptly halted by a sudden knock at the door. You rubbed your face to gather your composure before walking to the door and cracking it open.

Hunter’s face, illuminated by the glow of the moonlight, came into view. Your heart skipped a beat. His presence was always welcomed, but no matter how close you were to Hunter, he always gave the gentlest butterflies.

“Hunter, wh-” You began, your voice rough from sleep.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He spoke gently, his eyes heavy with worry. He cared so deeply for you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer that question verbally. Pulling the door open, you gestured for him to come inside.

He entered, hesitantly. His eyes not so subtly traveled the length of your body, barely covered by the silk nightgown you wore. His jaw clenched as he made himself look away.

“Sorry, I’ll cover up” You said frantically, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Scrambling to find a tunic, he politely interrupted you.

“No, please” He begged. There was a hint of desire in his tone that you chose to dismiss, “I mean, it’s your home. Don’t worry about me”. His eyes still wandered. Hunter couldn’t peel his eyes away from your exposed skin. At least not completely before finally finding your gaze and holding it.

Setting down the tunic, you crossed your arms, nodding in agreement.

“I’ve…been better. Just a…bad dream is all” You struggled with your words, answering his initial question.

“I, um, sensed that you were…distressed” He started, nervously, “Sorry, It’s not by choice. But I couldn’t ignore it”.

It was no surprise that he could tell. The villa you were housed in was side by side with Hunter and Crosshair’s villa, with Hunter’s bunk being on just the other side of the thin walls of your own room. It wasn’t a lot of space, but it was graciously gifted to you by the Pabu government, and you were grateful.

But although it wasn’t surprising, you were startled by the idea that he could sense your nerves and heartbeat through the wall.

What else could he sense? What could he hear?

“What were you doing awake? It’s the middle of the night” You countered, shaking your head subtly, wearing a soft smile in admiration of his concern and derailing from the topic only slightly.

He sighed and sat himself on your bunk, “Was having some bad dreams myself” he confessed, his elbows resting on his thighs. You followed suit, sitting on your bunk next to him.

You nodded and let the silence between you fill the small space for a moment. It wasn't awkward. It never was with him.

“It’s been a year. I just…I can’t shake how real it feels. Every single time I have this dream -- it’s like I’m right back on Tantiss, staring up through the barrel of a blaster. But…in my dream— my nightmare—you never come to save me” You breathe out, almost choking on the last part.

Hunter’s brows furrow with concern and pain. He thought it over for a few seconds, reliving that moment when he saved your life, shooting the officer dead where he stood as well as the troopers surrounding you. His face twisted in sorrow once more before he spoke again.

“I see Tech” He began, his voice broken, “Every time I close my eyes to sleep. Over and over again, I see him die”

“Oh, Hunter” your voice cracks with his name falling off your lips. Your heart broke for him, for the others. You never had the pleasure of knowing Tech, but from the endless stories the others in the squad had to share, you knew he was extraordinary.

Hunter's eyes remained on the ground for a moment before looking over to meet your gaze. He reached out and rested his hand upon your knee. You were ashamed to admit that the gentlest of his touch was electrifying to you.

“I know what it’s like” He consoled you, “it’s terrible”.

You nodded and stared into him, communicating more in your expression than what your words could provide.

“That trauma — it’s a part of me now”

“It is. But it does not define you” Hunter countered, “That’s what I tell Omega. Shes a tough kid but…she’s haunted by the Empire, too”

You thought of her and smiled. Over the past year, you'd grown close to all of them and were so happy to have them in your life.

Hunter always tended to you back when you were trying to adjust to life on the island. He used check on you several times a day, just to see if you were okay. He still does occasionally, but he’s given you more space as time has passed. He was a good and caring friend.

A Friend.

You chuckled to yourself at the thought of that word. It wasn’t even a week after you met him that you’d fallen head over heels for him. He blissfully plagued your every waking thought. Often you’d worry that he noticed your fixation on him, and were weary of his possible rejection. Other times, you’d hoped he noticed and would do something about it.

There were lingering glances, brushes against one another in a hallway, kind and flattering words exchanged…but you’d both been too afraid to act on it. You accepted that it may never be anything more than that, but it wasn’t without disappointment. Everyone around you, the other guys specifically, all noticed the tension between you two, but it never affected your friendship.

“Can I ask you a question?” You broke the silence, seemingly curious in your tone.

“Anything” Hunter quickly responded.

“Is this the first time you’ve sensed that I was… distressed in the middle of the night?”

Slowly, he sat up straight, “Yes…and no” He answered, hesitantly. You swallowed hard in anticipation of what you already assumed.

You tilted your head at him inquisitively.

“It's your heart rate. But I uh...I don’t think it’s always nightmares" He trailed off, cautious of what he was insinuating. Your heart sunk to your belly. Surely he didn't mean that he could sense when you pleasured yourself?

"What do you mean, Hunter?” You pried, hoping to get him to bring it up first.

“I shouldn't have said anything. I was just worried about you and wanted to check in" He hurried through his explanation, standing to his feet and walking toward the door to look out your window.

Your cheeks burned red with both excitement and embarrassment.

"Sometimes it's the best way to get to sleep" You indirectly admitted, shrugging your shoulders and letting a playful smile sneak upon your face, “Don’t you do it, too?” You casually suggested.

His eyes snapped back to where you sat on your bed.

Touching yourself was the best way to relax. Truthfully, you were starving for Hunter’s touch instead, and you had been yearning for him all this time. It was always him that you thought of when your curious fingers traveled in between your legs.

Hunter swallowed hard, feeling the delicate tension in the air.

“Well, of course I do, I-“ he stumbled over his words.

“Hunter, it’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it” You reassured him, cutting him off before he felt any more flustered.

You approached him at the window, feeling so dangerously close as you placed your hand on his arm.

“Thank you for checking on me. I’m okay” You offered a gentle and reassuring smile.

“I want to protect you, cyar’ika. You mean a lot to me and I…sometimes I don’t know how to help”

Hearing endearing terms in Mando’a always melted your heart.

“Just having you around is enough protection for me”

“I’m on the other side of the wall if you ever need me. You know that”

“I know” You nodded, but couldn’t seem to break your attention away from his face. The tattooed side, something you’d always adored, was lit once again by the brightened moon. Stars, he was so beautiful.

It was a mutual exchange of a longing expression between you two. Hunter’s eyes searched your gaze for any hesitation as you both leaned into each other. Your body pressed firm against him as your hands rested on the back of his neck. In the quiet of your room, it was you who could hear your own heartbeat now.

His lips landed blissfully upon yours, sending a radiating current through your body. You sucked in a sharp breath, overcome with the feeling of this sudden intimate contact. You kissed him back delicately, letting your mouth become barely familiar with his after so much longing for this exact feeling. You pulled away only slightly, seeing if he had any urge to stop. You looked up at him, searching for any sense of regret but found none. Hunter’s eyes were hungry for you...so much more of you.

“Y/N…” he started, his voice low and desperate.

You ached for him. Maker…you had ached for him for so terribly long. His lips on any part of your body were near close enough to send you into a frenzy. As your lips returned to his, Hunter’s arms found themselves wrapped around your barely clothed waist, pulling you closer to him, and deepening the kiss.

Your fingers found the hem of his shirt ready to remove it, eager to continue this further. To your puzzling surprise, he stopped you.

“Oh, I-“ You began, flustered and confused.

“Mesh’la” he groaned.

“I’m sorry”

“No, don’t be. I just…I can’t” He strained through his words, shutting his eyes for a moment, finding it difficult to reject you but forcing himself to do so.

As you stood there confused, he looked at you with a wordless apology on his face.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I'm right here if you need me” He concluded, gently planting a kiss on your forehead before seeing himself out.

Emptiness consumed you as you stood alone in your villa. Had you done something wrong? Surely not, it was clear he wanted you too, but something stopped him.

With such worry on your mind, you laid awake for a while before your fatigue finally took you over, sending you into a deep sleep.

————————————

“Have a nice day!” You called out to your last customer of the day. You loved your job working in the marketplace in the city square. It was a peaceful and rewarding existence.

Throughout the day, memories of the night before played like a broken holoscan in your mind. You could still feel his lips against yours, devouring you. It was hard not to smile as you reminisced about the feeling, but your smile would quickly fade as you remembered how it ended.

The sun casted an amber glow over the sea, letting you know the day was near over. The entire day had passed without seeing Hunter, which made you anxious. You wanted to see him. To talk to him. To apologize for trying to go too far.

As you processed these thoughts, you felt a presence approach your booth.

Hunter.

“Oh, hi!” You said surprised.

“Hi” He began, his smile warm, “can we talk?”

“Sure. I’m just closing up for the day”, You grinned back to him.

“I’ll be at our spot by the cove” He said, pointing toward the side of the island where your secret spot was. Only you, the guys, and Omega really knew about it.

You nodded before hurrying to finish closing your shop. Never had you packed that quickly before.

You arrived on the shore, in the hidden cove on the beach to find Hunter sitting alone on the boulder.

“Hey stranger” You said, approaching him.

“Hey, you” He smiled. Maybe with anyone else, this would be awkward. But with Hunter, somehow it wasn’t.

“Everything okay?” You questioned.

“I wanted to apologize about last night” He started, not making eye contact at first, but finding your eyes shortly after.

“It’s okay, Hunter, really. I understand” You responded, not entirely sure what you were understanding. Truthfully, you still weren’t sure why he stopped you last night.

“I don’t think you do, sweetheart”

You sat next to him on the boulder, leaving a bit of space between you two, contrary to how close you’d found yourself the night before.

“I had to stop myself” He continued.

“Why?”

“I care about you” He sighed.

“I know you do, Hunter. I don’t see why that made you want to stop what we had started” You countered, growing flustered, shifting your hips slightly.

“Because no matter how hard it is for me to resist you, I cannot take advantage of you like that”

“Wha— you’re not taking advantage of me, Hunter” You subtly scoffed in disbelief.

“I want you. Make no mistake about that” He said confidently yet softly, sending a tingling feeling through your veins.

“I want you too. I think about you…a lot” You began, letting your tone lead his mind toward the deeper meaning of your words.

Hunter looked over to you and raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

“I don’t want to mess up what we have” He admitted, disappointingly, “you mean too much to me”

You wanted to fight it. You wanted him. But he made a fair point. Was it worth running the risk of ruining your friendship?

You nodded, offering no further comment on the situation. It made your heart ache terribly, but you couldn’t risk losing him due to your mutual desires.

“I’m lucky to have you, Hunter” You said, scooting closer to him before leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Me too, sweetheart. Me too” He concurred.

The sunset on Pabu had never felt so bittersweet. As its warmth and glow made a gradual exit, you felt any chance of something more with Hunter disappearing with it. You sat and talked with him for another hour, chatting about the weather and how his job on the island was going, and you were just grateful for his presence, even if you’d never feel his lips upon yours again.

Returning home some time later, you noticed your roommate had left you a transmission.

“Sorry, still off-world, be back tomorrow!”

You felt relieved. Having privacy was rare but welcomed and appreciated.

The steaming shower in your refresher washed the day away from your body. You didn’t bother to put on your clothes, as you preferred to sleep naked anyway. As you sunk into your bed, you feared this would be another night of endless tossing and turning.

To make matters worse, you couldn’t stop feeling Hunter’s lips on yours. Over and over again, you kept feeling the tingling sensation that came over you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You were already wet just thinking about it, but as you rubbed your legs tightly together, you provided a friction that lit a fire in your lower belly.

He’d know if I masturbated, you thought. He’d sense it.

“Fuck it” You whispered to yourself.

Your fingertips found their place where they always did, right atop your sensitive bud. Rhythmically, you rubbed delicate circles around your clit, just beginning to tend to your aching needs. You whimpered softly. So softly that even you barely heard it.

What you were doing was going to drive him crazy. You knew that. The walls were thin, and he’d already told you that he’d sensed something in your heartbeat other than your nightmares before. But you’d be dammed if you’ll be left unsatisfied after the tease you’d felt last night.

You rocked your hips upwards into your own touch, biting your lip to suppress noises any louder than a heavy breath, especially with what you knew now. Visions of Hunter came to you as you fantasized. You pictured his fingers touching you like this, his body on top of yours.

Slowly, you felt your climax creeping toward you, inching closer like a looming threat. As you covered your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your orgasm was suddenly ripped away from you at the sound of a knock on your door.

You froze.

“Y/N” Hunter’s voice rang quietly from the other side.

Quickly, you pulled the covers to shield your naked body.

“Come in” you boldly called out. Sure, your door definitely should have been locked, but, you never worried for your safety here.

Hunter opened the door with caution. His eyes met yours immediately. As he closed it behind him, he leaned against the door as he took in the sight of you.

“Not a nightmare this time, was it?” He slyly suggested.

“No” you breathed, your heart now certainly beating in your throat.

He walked to your bed, slowly, “Tell me, mesh’la, all those times you’ve pleasured yourself, did you think I couldn’t hear those pretty little noises you make when you come?”

You stared at him, eyes heavy with intense lust and hint of blissful shame. There was a primal desire in his expression and demeanor, something you’d not seen but only a hint of last night, but it was undeniable tonight.

“Every time you touch yourself, I know” He whispered, “And you know what else? Every time you touch yourself, I can’t help but touch myself, too” He admitted, hovering above your bed, looking down to your delicately covered body. You melted at the image of him masturbating and getting off on the idea of you pleasuring yourself too.

“Hunter” you breathed.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what you want” He begged you. Hunter needed you to give him the green light he desperately needed.

“Please, fuck me” You begged shamelessly, “I can’t take it anymore. I need you”

Within the same second that the words left your lips, he was in bed above you, your lips tangled within his. He kissed you passionately, his tongue slipping into yours, exploring you further. You moaned at the satisfaction of his raw desire, picking right back up from where you left off. One hand held him up while the other ran through your hair. As you stayed covered beneath him, you reached up to grab his face and pull him into you and the kiss deepened between you.

The presence of his body above you pulled the blanket down, revealing your bare breasts. Hunter pulled away from your lips to look down at the sight. He growled lowly in approval and pent up urge to see you like this.

“Cyare” he whimpered, releasing his hand from your face down to cup your breast. He then redirected his attention to your stiffened nipples, taking one into his mouth, causing a gentle cry to fall from your lips.

With his mouth still upon your breast, he pulled the blanket completely off your body, tossing it to the floor, exposing your skin to the chilled air.

Maker, he was eager…so incredibly eager to see you fully bare beneath him. Every inch of your skin on display. Something he’d only dreamed of. Something that fueled every fantasy he had while he stroked his cock mere inches from you on the other side of the wall. And here you were, right beneath him, laid out pretty, just for him.

“You are so beautiful, sweetheart” He praised you, leaning back to fully take in the view. Swiftly, he removed his shirt, revealing the chiseled, beautifully scarred body beneath it. You stared in awe at his physique, your heart skipping a beat.

"Spread your legs for me, baby", He instructed. You obeyed, opening your legs to provide him better access to where you desperately ached for him the most. The moonlight gleaming through your window was enough to offer you both the light you needed. As Hunter caught sight of your pussy, already slick with desire for him, his face turned in pure adoration.

"Touch me, please, Hunter" You begged, feeling as though you could do nothing but beg him in this state of arousal. You were his. All his.

FIngertips trailed softly up your thigh before reaching the wetness between your legs. Hunter whimpered as he felt you.

"Oh sweetheart, is this all for me?" He asked, beginning to rub your clit gently while he whispered into your ear. Chills erupted down your body.

"It's for you. It's always for you" You responded breathlessly, letting your words flow in between your cries of pleasure. Hunter applied more pressure before inserting two fingers inside of you. While he does this, he watches you, enamored with the way your face twists in pleasure, all from his hands. Not yours this time — his.

With a curl of his fingers and a steady pace, Hunter fucks you with his fingers. His thumb remains at your clit, stimulating you beyond what you're used to. No one had paid this much attention to your body before.

His lips returned to yours, stifling a moan that escaped you as you felt your orgasm quickly approaching.

"I'm so c-close" You choked on your words muttered against his supple lips. The bundled coil in your lower abdomen threatened to burst at any second.

"I can feel you tightening around me. Come on my fingers, mesh'la" He encouraged you.

Hearing Hunter talk to you like this, after so long of being just friends, was exhilarating. His words alone were enough to push you over the edge, but the way he worked his hands to pleasure you was so good. Too good.

Your climax unraveled, washing over you gracefully, starting at your core and radiating like a fire throughout your entire body. Profanities flew from your lips as you instinctively rolled your hips against his palm.

"That's it, princess, right there" He coaxed you gently, unrelenting in the curling of his fingers, fucking you steadily through your orgasm, "good girl".

As you came down from the pure euphoria with stars dancing in your eyes, Hunter was careful to pull his fingers out of you slowly. Holding your gaze, he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you and savoring it like a last meal.

You leaned up, propping yourself on your elbows. Hunter stood, quickly pulling the hem of his pants down before removing them completely. You audibly gasped at his size when his cock came into view. Hunter was smirking as your eyes travelled back up to his gaze.

As he stood beside your bed, you got on your hands and knees and put your mouth level with his length. Hunter melted when your tongue licked up the side of his cock. His eyes fell closed when you took him into your mouth completely, or at least, as much as you could. You started to suck him off, using your tongue to guide your motions.

You peered up at him, watching his face twist in ecstasy as you bobbed your head back and forth. With a swirling of your tongue on his tip, you felt his hips twitch subtly.

“Fuck, Y/N. Just like that. Suck my cock” He growled through his pleasure, using a tone you’d usually only heard when he gave orders. This was an order you’d follow any day without question, “That’s my girl”, he praised through his clenched jaw.

His hand rested on your head, gently guiding you in your motions. The sound of his soft little whimpers that quickly turned into deeper groans made your cunt ache for him even more. You clenched your walls around nothing, pitifully empty and needing to be filled. As you moved your hand to your clit to relieve the ache, he reached down your back and plunged two fingers into your pussy from behind. You cried out, sending vibrations over his cock as you tried to still focus on his pleasure.

He pumped his fingers at a faster pace than before, sending you into a overstimulated frenzy and you couldn’t take it anymore. You pulled your mouth from him, desperately catching your breath and crying out his name.

“Fuck, Hunter, don’t stop” You begged him, but instead he disobeyed your request, removing his fingers completely.

Without struggle or hesitation, Hunter lifted you and placed you on your back on the bed. He positioned himself in between your trembling legs. He kissed you passionately once more while lining his cock at your entrance.

The whole world fell silent for you as your bodies seemingly fused together. You’d dreamed of this moment, this intimacy with Hunter, for so long. To have him inside of you was the most erotic experience you’d ever had. He bottomed out slowly, both of your mouths agape, overwhelmed by the pleasure and the connection you felt in that moment.

There was only a slight tinge of discomfort as he filled you completely. You winced only a little, before it was replaced by pure pleasure.

“Mesh’la” he moaned deeply, “You..ugh…you take me so well” he praised you through his expressions of pleasure.

“Feels so good, Hunter” you whine, staring deep into eyes, seducing him further.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to feel you like this?” He whispered against your ear before moving his lips down to your neck, kissing softly at your skin while he thrust deeper and faster.

You choked on your moans as his change in pace overwhelmed you. The room was filled with your whimpers, along with the irresistible sound of Hunter’s rough and deep moans.

“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this” Hunter’s praises lit a fire within you, and he could tell, encouraging him more.

You lifted your knees, pressing them against his chest, allowing him to slide inside of you at an even better angle. You cried out, overstimulated and overfilled in the most amazing way. The thin walls were no match for how good you made each other feel, but you cared very little about who heard you.

The year long pent up tension between you two was unraveling beautifully as he fucked you like he was making up for all that lost time.

With one hard thrust, he stopped, holding his cock fully sheathed in your cunt, “Gonna come on my cock, princess? Make those pretty little sounds for me?” He teased, grinding his hips hard against your thighs. Held inside you like this, he brushed against your most sensitive spot, driving you crazy.

You were drunk off him, drunk off his words, drunk off his body. You could barely form a response, but offered him a nod as you felt your next release building quickly inside of you. Maybe he just loved to tease you endlessly, because he then pulled out of you, making you whine pitifully at the sudden loss of his cock and your orgasm.

He was firm yet gentle with your body as he flipped you over flat on your stomach. Similar to how he reacted to your breasts, he growled at the sight of your ass, grabbing a handful to admire as he ran his other hand down your back.

He leaned down, his cock resting on your ass, and he moved your hair from your face, pulling you into a passionate kiss as he sunk himself into your pussy from behind. You moaned against his lips, so satisfied with being filled again.

He continued his pace from before, fucking you with raw desire to claim you. Hips slapped firm against the skin of your ass as Hunter grabbed your waist for even better leverage.

“Hunter!”, You cried out, “right there…right there…I’m gonna come”

Never would he dare to stop now. The sounds he emitted grew louder and more inconsistent, and you could tell he was close too.

The fire that burned inside you erupted into the a burst of absolute ecstasy. It took over every fiber of your being as your vision went hazy. A slew of profanities flew from your lips while your body convulsed, your cunt pulsing around his cock as you came harder than you ever had felt before.

“Yessss, good fucking girl, come for me just like that” He cursed, grinding and pounded hard to chase his own release as well. You tightened your walls for him, pushing him closer, even though you never wanted this to end.

You were breathless beneath him, still taking his cock like you were made for it.

“Come inside me, Hunter. Please” You pleaded. It seems your words sent him over his limit, because as the words left your mouth, his hips faltered and his breath grew shaky. Hunter filled you, coming deep inside you, marking you like he wished he’d done a long time ago.

Together you caught your breath slowly. Hunter was careful to remove himself gently, knowing that you’d be sensitive, as was he. You winced as the last inch of him left you. Exhaustion overtook your body as you lay there, floating on a high like no other.

Hunter laid down next you, your bodies pressed closely together on the small bed. You turned to your side, looking up at him in pure adoration.

“Y/N…” Hunter broke the silence that was only filled with panting as you both tried to catch your breath, “you are…so perfect”

“So are you” You smiled at him.

“I’m never letting you go. That’s a promise” He assured you. The words brought you comfort, and you truly believed him.

It wasn’t but shortly after that you both drifted into a deep sleep, holding each other close while your minds rested. The sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted, as neither of you had nightmares that night.

——

A/N: Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!❤️

Thank you for reading 😊

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dustofthedailylife · 9 months

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A Stellar Birthday

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairings: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng x (gn!) Reader

Summary: It's your birthday, yet there is something that is tainting your mood. He manages to change that, however.

Tags: Fluff, hints of angst at first (but it's really harmless), SFW, kissing, confessions, Jing Yuan being a scheming master, Dan Heng being bad with feelings

A/N: Second self-indulgent birthday fic! This time for HSR. Hope you enjoy :3

JING YUAN

“Hey.” Your employer briefly knocks at the door of your office to make you aware of his presence before walking up to your desk.

“Hello, sir. Anything the matter?” You inquired carefully, because somehow your gut feeling told you that he was about to tell you something you wouldn’t like.

“Yes. I came to tell you that the vacation day you entered for tomorrow… Unfortunately, you won’t be able to take it anymore.”

“Wh-what? Why?” You ask exasperated. You had booked that day off months in advance because you and Jing Yuan wanted to spend your birthday together.

“I know this is really short notice, but Mei came to my office earlier and it’s her birthday tomorrow. Surely you don’t mind coming to work tomorrow so someone else can celebrate their birthday, right? We’d do the same for you.”

Your boss tapped your desk twice before turning around again to leave, not even waiting for your reply.

The knot in your throat became tighter and tighter and all you wanted was to yell after him that it was your birthday as well tomorrow. Yet, somehow you didn’t have it in you to correct him, also because you could feel that you would burst into tears the moment you opened your mouth again.

You bit back a sob as you could feel the burning sensation in your eyes and some tears welled up. You tried to calm yourself by repeatedly telling yourself that it couldn’t be helped and that your birthday was just another day of the year anyway. No need to make a big deal about it. You could always spend time with Jing Yuan on another day as well. Right?

You learned your lesson and will just explicitly mention that you will take time off for your birthday next year, something that you had failed to do this year and that had caused this situation in the first place. Your boss could’ve checked your employee card and would’ve seen that it was your birthday as well, but he, too, had a lot on his plate and it couldn’t be helped anymore.

Once you were back home from work you slammed the door shut behind you and quickly took out your phone to open the chat between you and Jing Yuan.

‘Need to cancel our plans tomorrow. I’m sorry. Let’s do something on another day.’

You typed and hit send faster than you were able to process before turning your phone to silent mode and throwing it between the pillows of your sofa.

The frustrations of the day began to wash over you all at once at that moment and you could feel the lump in your throat grow to a size that made it hard to breathe. And no matter how much you tried to swallow it down, the tears that started to spill were inevitable. You were angry, frustrated, and just wanted to yell at everything and everyone. Because once again you felt invisible. Like no one in the world cared about your feelings and all you ever had to do was to accommodate everyone else. You hated it and you hated that the feeling was so awfully familiar.

You don’t even know how long you had been crying when the sudden ring of your doorbell pulled you out of the hole of self-pity you had dug for yourself.

You quickly wiped the tears out of your eyes and checked your face in the mirror beside the door. Your puffy, red eyes would betray that you had been crying to whoever was standing in front of the door right away.

So, you contemplated whether it was a good idea to open at all or if you should simply act like you weren’t at home. Because you didn’t really want to see anyone in this state either. Or, god forbid, have them ask if everything was alright. Because, frankly, nothing was alright right now.

“I know you’re there. Open up.”

The familiar voice rang through the door causing you to perk up. Jing Yuan sounded worried. You assumed that he had probably tried to message or call you and you didn’t pick up because you had set your phone to silent.

Your hand wandered in the direction of the doorknob, which you hesitantly rested it on, still unsure whether to open or to play dead.

“Please… let me in.” He pleaded in a way that almost made your heart shatter. So, with much hesitancy, you decided to open the door.

You immediately saw Jing Yuan’s brows furrow when he looked at your face. Pushing past you inside, he closed the door and immediately took you in his embrace.

“Tell me what happened.” He urged sympathetically, gently stroking your cheeks with his thumb.

Under sobs, you began recalling the events of the day, ending it with a full-on crying session by the moment you stopped talking again. You seriously wondered if he even understood anything you were trying to tell because of how much you had started sobbing throughout it.

He hugged you tightly, wiping away your tears once again, and reassuring you that everything would be alright. At the moment you didn’t quite see how, but he always remained right, so you simply nodded against his chest.

Once you had calmed down a bit he briefly excused himself, reassuring you that he would be right back with something that would cheer you up. And not even forty minutes later he was back with two paper bags filled with your favorite street foods and two cups of Immortal’s Delight.

No matter what, he always knew what he needed to do. While you got some plates and chopsticks out of the kitchen you suddenly heard the familiar ringtone of your phone coming out of the living room.

Confused you walked over to where you had thrown it between the pillows. You could’ve sworn you had put it on silent earlier, so why was it ringing now?

You fished your phone out and checked the brightly illuminated screen.

Boss.

Why was he calling now? By the Aeons, you sure as hell had enough of him today already.

“Hello?” You picked up questioningly.

“A-ah. It’s good t-that I reach you. Uhm– actually I-I wanted to to tell you that you don’t need to come to work tomorrow. You get your day off. M-my bad. Heh.” He was stammering and sounded more nervous than an alerted Warp Trotter.

“Uh…okay. Thank you.” You paused, walking over to the kitchen, holding your phone to one ear, glaring daggers at Jing Yuan who was happily chewing away at some gyoza and questioningly raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah. Uhm… e-enjoy your birthday tomorrow. Oh, and I-I happened to check our yearly employee evaluation and I’m happy to in-inform you that you’re getting a raise. Come to my office on Friday. O-Okay… bye.”

You didn’t even manage to get a word in before he hung up again. One thing was certain though, something smelled awfully fishy here, and it wasn’t the food Jing Yuan had brought in earlier.

“Who was that?” He asked innocently despite knowing full well who had just called.

“What did you do?” You asked accusingly, crossing your arms over your chest at which he just raised an eyebrow.

“Me? I didn’t do anything.” He acted completely clueless but the twitch of the corner of his lips betrayed the truth.

You knew the influence he had aboard the Luofu. He was the General of the Cloud Knights after all. Never did you expect him to use that influence for such matters, however.

“So… does this mean I can stay the night and the plan to go out tomorrow is back on the table?”

This man was unbelievable.

DAN HENG

“Happy Birthday!” The Astral Express Crew gratulated you in unison.

Himeko placed the cake they got for you on the table in front of you while March readied herself to snap a picture. Mr. Yang stood by and watched with crossed arms and a smile on his face. And Pom-Pom was attempting to admonish everyone to not get any burn holes in or crumbs on the red leather bench.

March began counting down from three waiting for the perfect moment to snap a picture of you blowing out the candles. Followed by claps and more birthday wishes from everyone once they were extinguished.

Well, everyone aside from Dan Heng.

He was silently sitting in an armchair away from everyone simply typing and scrolling away on his phone. He hadn’t even looked up once for hours now, let alone engaged in any group activities.

You told yourself you wouldn’t let it sour your mood, it was your birthday after all. So if he wanted to brood, let him brood.

However, when you tried to hand him a plate with a piece of cake and he just declined the offer with the excuse of not being hungry right now, not even daring to look at you, you couldn’t help but wonder what was up with him.

As you sat back together with the others you occasionally found yourself stealing glances at Dan Heng to see if you could read anything on his face. But it stayed the same. Expressionless and completely unreadable.

Eventually, after you came back from getting yourself and Mr. Yang a cup of coffee, you found the chair he had sat on all evening empty.

Was something wrong? Did he have a grudge against you?

It didn’t go unnoticed by the others either that you grew quieter and quieter as the evening progressed.

March was the first one to address the elephant in the room.

“It bothers you that Dan Heng didn’t join, right?” And she couldn’t have hit the nail more on the head even if she tried.

You hummed in agreement, taking another sip from your coffee. You looked back to the empty chair for a brief moment, while a thousand questions popped into your head once more.

Ever since the Crew had come back from the Luofu he had been more quiet than usual. He barely even spoke a word with you and kept locking himself up in his room for days on end. It would be a lie if you said it didn’t bother you. Because with every day that passed you wondered more and more why he was acting so differently.

“Don’t worry so much. He’s probably just grumpy about something. He’ll be back to normal in no time.” March reassured with an infectious smile, slinging her arms around you in a quick hug. “Now, we should do something about this gloomy mood. It’s your birthday! What do you want to do? More cake? Dancing? Anything?”

In all honesty, you didn’t really feel like partying as long as Dan Heng’s weird behavior was at the back of your mind constantly. Because no matter what you were doing, you kept thinking about it sooner or later again anyway.

“Did… something happen on the Luofu?” You finally decided to ask.

March seemed to be taken by surprise by your question before immediately and hectically waving off that anything had happened. Unfortunately for her, she could be read like an open book. So, you immediately knew she was lying. But why?

What happened on the Luofu?

You nodded, accepting that you wouldn’t get any answers from her tonight, and excused yourself, telling everyone that you would be heading to bed now.

On the way to your room, you saw that Dan Heng’s door wasn’t closed entirely and a streak of light from the inside illuminated the hallway of the cart. You couldn’t help but steal a glance inside, but you found the room completely empty.

Wondering where he went you walked straight past your room, and through some other carts until you eventually reached the observatory and the very last cart.

And this is also where you found him.

He was sitting next to the telescope at the desk, writing something down. When you knocked on the doorframe to make him aware of your presence, he perked his head up to look at you. Yet somehow he immediately almost looked alert.

“What are you doing here?” His voice sounded panicked, almost accusatory.

“I came looking for you when I saw your room was empty–” You began to explain, confused about the hostility in the air.

“Did you go in?” He interrupted frantically, jumping up from his chair with a shocked look in his beautiful turquoise eyes.

“I–what? No!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What is going on with you?”

“It’s nothing.” He once again waved it off, as usual. And his demeanor left more questions than answers every time he did just that.

“Nothing? As in nothing you want to tell me? Nothing why you keep avoiding me? Nothing why you keep diverting the topic whenever I try to ask about the Luofu mission?” You huffed in frustration. You could feel anger that stemmed from weeks of confusion and unanswered questions well up in the pit of your stomach, making you ball your fists at your sides.

Dan Heng exhaled heavily, diverting his gaze to the ground, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“Just… talk to me.” You demanded pleadingly.

He took a few steps in your direction, breathing heavily. And before you knew it the air around him began to glow in such a bright blue light, that you had to shield your eyes in order to not get blinded. Sparkles began to form, making the room ooze with magic you had no idea existed.

When the light finally dimmed again, you lowered the hand you had held in front of your face. But what was in front of you exceeded even your wildest imaginations. Long, silky black hair that faded into dark blue cascaded down Dan Heng’s shoulders, crystalline horns had grown on his head, a translucent dragon tail had formed behind him, and icy blue, glowing eyes were staring right at you.

You wanted to say something – ask so many questions that were burning at the back of your mind, but every word you were desperate to speak died on your tongue. You were too stunned to speak.

He nodded, dropping his eyes, and pressed his lips into a thin line with a defeated look on his face.

“There. This is why I didn’t tell you… why I’ve been acting the way I did. Because I was scared you would think I’m–”

“Beautiful.” You muttered under your breath faster than your brain could process that you just said it out loud.

“What?” He asked in disbelief.

“You look… beautiful.” You almost choked on your words, still in disbelief over what you just said. You had never acted on your feelings for Dan Heng because you didn’t know if he felt the same for you and in fear of making things awkward. But there was no going back from it now.

“Like… I truly mean i–mphh”

Before you knew it he had pulled you in by your waist, uniting your lips with an intensity that knocked the air out of your lungs and made you feel lightheaded.

“Oh god, I-I’m so sorry. I just– I didn’t mean to–” He stammered in panic immediately after breaking off the kiss and realizing what he had just done. Lifting his hand up to his lips shaking his head.

“Please do that again.” You immediately cut him off, pulling his hand away from his face and slinging your arms around his neck while pulling him closer. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest at this point and your face felt like it was burning up.

You could smell the bitterness of the coffee he had been drinking all evening on his breath and the familiar scent of his aftershave. Because despite everything, he was still Dan Heng. Your Dan Heng. The one you had grown to love. And nothing was ever going to change that.

And with one last adoring look into your eyes, he pulled you in once more in a silent declaration of love.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about HSR or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng il x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr fluff #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #hsr imagines #🍁 dust writes #🍁彡 hsr

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amysnotdeadyet · 7 months

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Good Steve

Another! And then I have to go cook dinner. Stupid reality.

My darling @newtypeshadow asked for a somewhat complicated Steddie from Stranger Things plot, so she gets 555 words.

If there was one thing Eddie Munson was known for — besides shredding on the guitar — it was being protective of his boyfriend. Corroded Coffin were big enough that when they got outed the subsequent dip in record sales didn't tank their careers.

The metal scene was all about people living their lives outside of social conventions, after all.

Eddie did a cover of Judas Priest's "Breaking the Law" to open every concert that tour. Steve came along the way he always did. Instead of hanging with the other WAGs, he wore a staff shirt and assisted everywhere backstage. He'd learned a ton of useful skills in his years touring with them, and was always happy to help.

It took new guys some time to figure that out, though.

"Why the fuck is he here?" asked the guy who would be known as Bad Steve for the duration of his employment. He was a lighting expert of some renown, but he'd been caught in traffic on the way to the gig, so Steve had started setup while they waited.

"You're late," said Nate through the headset.

Steve emerged from beneath the boards already talking. "They need to solder #17, it's just not connecting." He turned to Bad Steve with a charming, boyish grin. "Oh, hey! I'm Steve, happy to lend a hand."

"You're Munson's boytoy." Bad Steve, unfortunately, had not muted his headset.

A dark 'ooooh' went through the line from several sources.

Steve's expression shuttered. "Check it or don't, but don't blame me if it goes out. Chart's over there."

Eddie came crashing into the booth, looking like a hot mess. "Stevie, baby, I need your touch."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You need me to do your eyeliner again because you smudged it already."

"Yep," said Eddie. "Oh, and Bad Steve, do consider who might be listening, hm?"

Steve let Eddie put his hands in the back pocket of his admittedly small jeans shorts, not even bothering to glance back to where Bad Steve was fuming.

A few hours later, when #17 had been soldered and the show was underway, Bad Steve got to see why Eddie's Steve was the favorite.

A nazi punk managed to get onstage while security was breaking up a fight elsewhere, and Steve flew out of wings with fire in his eyes to tackle the guy before he got past the monitors. Long legs pinned the guy's back to the floor, and he palmed the guy's head like a basketball, leaning in to say something there was no mic to pick up.

The guy tried to get up and got his face slammed into the stage for his trouble, Steve clearly in control even when the punk tried to swipe with a switchblade. The knife clattered away as Steve brought his own arm down on the guy's hand, smashing it into the monitor with a crunching sound and the screech of feedback.

The rest of security finally arrived to confiscate the knife and the nazi. Steve let him up, holding his own hands out while they hauled him away.

At that point, no one could blame Eddie for the scorching kiss that followed.

"Well," said Eddie into the mic, once Steve was safely offstage. "That was fuckin' hot, right?"

The cheers that followed were almost as deafening as the music.

#steddie #stranger things #my fic #ficlet #steve learns to kick ass better as time goes on

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peachsayshi · 10 months

Note

peach u should absolutely 100% share that nanami thought

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ sugar daddy!nanami x babysitter!fem reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni (this blog is 20+ of follows)

➳ tags: single dad nanami; porn with little plot; nipple play; pussy drunk nanamin; oral (female receiving); overstimulation; squirting; mentions of cum; dirty talk ➳ n: don't ask about my mental state when I wrote this.

nanami hasn't been intimate with a woman in two and half years. so, of course, he can’t help but be in a constant state of heat when he’s around you in such close quarters. his last relationship was serious enough for him to invest in an engagement ring, but a surprise pregnancy ultimately turned his life upside down. one minute he was ready to start a family, and the next he found himself abandoned by his partner who left him to raise his son all by himself.

nanami didn't have time to process the devastation of that experience with a toddler to worry about. instead, he buried himself in his work and channeled all his focus on raising yuji. he absolutely adored being a father to his bubbly little boy, but he knew that he couldn't keep relying on his parents to take on the extra pressure as he juggled between his very successful career and fatherhood.

you were a part time babysitter, but a godsend to nanami.

hiring you proved to be the best kind of luxury he could afford, and the man was finally able to acknowledge that he was spreading himself far too thin. with you around, he managed to catch his breath for the first time in two years and the cherry on top was that yuji absolutely adored you.

of course, the arrangement worked out both ways.

you were strapped for cash after paying off your loans, and with the cost of living skyrocketing in the last couple of years, you knew you needed to take on a second job just to make ends meet. not only was nanami the sweetest employer, but he offered you a very generous salary.

the man isn't shy to admit that you brought a little light back into his life, as well as some peace and much needed quiet.

he found himself having more alone time during the weekends, especially on saturdays when yuji would stay by his grandparents and you were off from work.

that's when it dawned on him just how lonely he'd been all these years. he shouldn’t have been surprised that his dormant sexual appetite emerged once you came into the picture, and that he regularly began touching himself with the thought of fucking you in every position imaginable.

after one of his solo sessions, when your name escaped him in a broken grunt as he came all over his palm, a bold proposition crossed his mind…

…you've been doing such an amazing job with yuji, why not help fulfill his needs to?

he knew how much this could backfire if things turned sour, but nanami was also aware of your financial circumstances and decided that the risk was worth taking.

he treated the conversation professionally; along with a monthly salary, he offered to cover any and all of your expenses in exchange for you quitting your job and working exclusively for him.

he had "new terms" in regards to your position. you would continue taking care of yuji as usual, but every saturday would be dedicated to having scheduled "dates" with nanami. he was expecting a companionship, preferably one that was physical, but he wasn’t going to force you with anything you were uncomfortable with. you were to join him on any work or family trips, but he reassured you that you were allowed to take any personal breaks and holidays as you saw fit. he would be flexible with you just as long as you stick to the demands of the contract he drafted.

“can I think about it?” you asked him a little breathlessly, your cheeks scorching hot as you clenched your thighs tightly together in your seat.

“take whatever time you need,” he politely replied. “I want you to think it through”

- ♡ -

this pretty cupless corset top with the matching lace thong is the most expensive present you’ve ever received. the detail on the set itself is stunning, molding around your body like a piece of art. your skin is the canvas beneath the see through material, showing off the printed panels and lacy embroidered detailing.

nanami handed you the present just the night before as he walked you out the door.

“wear this tomorrow,” he whispered in your ear, smirking with amusement and anticipation.

you feel so exposed with your tits exposed out like this, hard nipples poking against the air as you watch your employer wrap his mouth over one of the tender buds.

you hiss as he swipes his tongue along the peak, nipping at the tip with his teeth before sucking gently. your thighs were still trembling from the orgasm he just delivered from this act alone, and you can feel your arousal stick to your inner thighs as it soaked through your underwear.

“ah-ah!” you whine, your lashes fluttering close as you arch your hips lightly against his pelvis. “nanami-san…”

it’s strange hearing yourself call out his name this way, the tone unfamiliar and foreign to your ears.

those strong, beautiful hands leave your waist and travel to your breasts. nanami squeezes your tits and drags his thumbs over the taut peaks as he places a kiss along the boning of your corset.

“I'd rather be inside you, but I haven’t tasted pussy in ages…” he admits shyly against your ribs, his mouth traveling further down to the space between your legs.

your thighs nearly snap close, but he sternly pinches your nipples to keep them spread.

“Such a pretty thing, I bet you taste like heaven ...” he contemplates, nuzzling his nose into your clothed crotch and breathing in the scent of your arousal. he swipes his tongue over the soaked material, his brown eyes turning hazy as he glances up at you from between your legs, "mmm, you really fucking do..."

your spine quivers from the vibration of his deep voice, and his vulgar choice of words. nanami releases his hands from your chest and proceeds to tug your underwear to the side while keeping one thigh nice and open for him.

he licks his lips at the dewy wet mess and groans.

"fuck, I could cum just looking you."

he places featherlight kisses over your clit, one after the other, until you sigh dreamily as your head fall backs against the pillow. he keeps you spread while his tongue massages over the sensitive button and parts your folds. he slurps, nips, and kisses to his heart's content - the tension knitting the front of his brows together from how your pussy intoxicates him.

he draws out another orgasm, his hand kneading your shaking thigh as your essence coats the lower have of his face. he can feel himself leaking through his boxers, so he ruts against the mattress to give himself some relief.

he moves to focus on just your clit, making noises as he lewdly sucks on the bud. his other hand finds your dripping hole, and he manages to slip two fingers inside with ease. he brushes his digits upward, the pads stroking over your gummy walls and turning your sensual moans into desperate little whimpers.

the pressure is unbearable; the tight coil around abandon an ache that you can't even stand. your hand threads between his golden strands, your manicured nails digging into his scalp which eggs him on even further. your eyes roll to the back of your head, your jaw goes slack when he touches just the right spot that has tears of relief falling down your cheeks.

your body spasms when your third orgasm trickles through you in an eruption, a gush squirting from between your legs and painting nanami's hand, forearm and neck.

"good girl," he grunts as he peppers kisses over your pubis and along your hip.

you're trembling as you readjust your position to sit up again. nanami finally shifts his body to sit upright, his knees on either side of your thighs. he pulls his dick out of his boxers and starts stroking his thick, veiny cock. you're panting to catch your breath, mouth slightly dry at the sight of the bulbous head.

"s-shit, I can't h-hold off any longer," he admits with a shaky voice, his heavy eyes locking on yours as he continues jacking off. "gonna have to cum on those beautiful tits, darling..."

you sheepishly reach one hand to tweak at your nipple to provoke him, "do whatever you want with me, I'm yours."

your sensual delivery tips him over the edge and with just a couple more strokes, he finally reaches his climax and shoots white ropes all over your chest.

you crawl up his body as he comes down from his high, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your tainted chest against his own strong torso. you brush your finger over his undercut, leaving a kiss along his jaw before murmuring against his lip: "was that good for you, nanami san?"

he grins as he reaches to grip the flesh of your rear, his lips closing the gap of space where he steals a messy, open mouthed kiss. "better than I expected, " he reassures as he nips at your bottom lip, careful not to confess that he's pined for this moment night after night.

#peach queues.🧡#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x female reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #sugar daddy nanami #I can't stop thinking about this concept

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 24 days

Text

To Prepare His Bed

Note: I've been so distracted while wrapping this up, sorry if it's a mess.

Warnings: 18+! a bit of angst, a bit of smut, and a bit of fluff. mention of bullying.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Being Sihtric's maid came with unexpected pleasures.

wordcount: 3,7k

Masterlist

The air was thick and warm, your bodies coated with sweat and glistening in the dim flames of lit torches and candles in Sihtric's room. Your hands were tangled in his loose locks while your tongues nearly intertwined as you kissed vigorously. Sihtric was tender, with soft loving touches and deep passionate kisses, cherishing every part of you and wanting to please you as much as he needed the pleasure himself. His moans were low and heavy, in sync with his slow and rhythmic thrusts into you while you felt every inch of him deep inside you.

This had been bound to happen; you, underneath him in his bed, both unclothed, with your lips and tongues locked in a passionate kiss while hands were tangled in each other's hair and digging into each other's skin. Sihtric was a widow. The widowed Lord of Dunholm, and he had been a secretive and solitary man for years. But Sihtric was also a man of status and wealth, while you were merely one of the several maids under his employment. You were tasked with washing his clothes and sweeping the floor in his bedroom, as well as preparing the bed for him every night. And you had been chosen by the man himself to wash, comb and braid his hair every few days. The latter was a task you thoroughly enjoyed as it was an intimate and pleasantly time consuming process. You loved being close to his soothing energy, and you had caught feelings for your Lord ever since the very first time you were in his slightly intimidating presence. And evidently, you hadn't gone unnoticed by him either.

You had just washed his hair one late evening before it happened. A long, silent and lustful tension had lingered before it was acted upon. Sihtric sat at the desk in his royal bedroom, his eyes scanning a map on which the surrounding lands of Dunholm were drawn, his damp hair recently combed by you and tucked behind his ears. In the dull mirror that hung above his desk, which was simply a large silver plate, you noticed his eyes followed you occasionally as you prepared his bed.

You felt his gaze upon you as you fluffed up his pillows and straightened the sheets once more. He quietly kept his eyes on you as you took his silky robe out of the dark oaken closet. You went over to him, like every night, with means of hanging the robe next to his desk, where he would undress once you had left the room, and slip into the robe before he'd stare out of his window for a moment, after which he would go to sleep. It was a routine, like a dance, it had been the same for months and you both knew what to expect each night. But Sihtric suddenly broke that routine when you neared his desk that evening.

'On the bed, please,' he said, his voice calm and gentle.

You stopped in your tracks, just behind him and you locked eyes in the dull mirror. Your expression confused, and a soft, nervous chuckle sounded before you spoke.

'... Lord?'

'I said on the bed,' Sihtric repeated as he turned to look up at you, never raising his voice or changing his considerate tone.

'Of course, my Lord.'

You bowed your head to the Earl and turned in an attempt to place his robe on the bed, but stopped when Sihtric suddenly got up from his chair before you could do so.

'Not the robe,' he said with equal tenderness as he closed in on you.

You turned to face him and he took the clothing out of your hands. He then threw his robe carelessly on the floor and backed you further towards his bed, slowly and all but threateningly. You looked up at him with big eyes. Sihtric towered over you and you wouldn't stand a chance against him, but you also knew after months of working for him that there was hardly any evil inside of him, and his movements along with his expression reassured you he did not mean any harm.

'I… I don't understand, my Lord,' you whispered while his hands gently took your face.

'You,' Sihtric murmured as he looked you up and down, 'on the bed.'

'L-Lord?'

You felt your cheeks heat up. He couldn't possibly mean what you took away from his words. But if not, then why was your face cupped by his warm and rough hands? And then why did he look at you as if he desired you, as if you had lit a fire inside of him which he could not contain anymore.

'I want you on my bed,' he said softly and paused for a second, 'or on my desk, I'm not that picky,' he shrugged and gave you a playful wink.

And that was how you had ended up in his bed, making deep and passionate love until dawn showed. He did everything to make sure you reached your high along with him, and the tenderness with how he touched and kissed you made it all seem as if it was only a dream. A dream you've had many times before it finally happened in reality. And you fell asleep in his arms afterwards. His strong arms, a place that granted you warmth, safety and comfort. But regardless of all that, you still snuck out of his embrace before he woke, and left quietly to your own room.

You were just a maid who was easy on the eye, and Sihtric was a Lord with needs and cravings like any man, and those you would happily soothe for him. But you also knew the other maids and servants would judge you for it, and you were convinced that Sihtric didn't possibly want to be seen sleeping with a maid, when he could have any lady he longed for. You assumed you were just an easy and meaningless hump to him, but now that you knew what an attentive lover he was, it only made your feelings for him stronger.

The day after your sudden pleasurable night, you avoided Sihtric, knowing you would have to face him eventually as you were tasked with your daily duties, but you tried to escape his presence wherever possible. You were terrified that it had been a mistake on his end, or perhaps a trap of sorts to see how easy to persuade you were, and that it would eventually cost you your job because maybe he hadn't been quite satisfied, even though his deep and heavy moans had told you something else the night before.

When you met Sihtric in the great hall later that day, amidst the other maids, you kept your head down as you crossed paths. But Sihtric still acknowledged you in passing, greeting you with respect and dignity, like he always did. A relief washed over you when it became evident that he simply acted as if nothing had happened around everyone else. And so you acted the same when you were to prepare his bed that evening, like every other evening before.

You tried to be oblivious to the somewhat uncomfortable silence in the room while you did your duties. You felt a strange pressure to mention the events of the night before, but you thought it was best to try and forget about it. You noticed Sihtric didn't follow you with his eyes anymore while he sat at his desk, and when you brought him his robe he thanked you politely, but without looking at you like he usually did. You respectfully bowed your head and slightly bended through your knees as you did, then turned to leave his room.

'Good night, my Lord.'

'I'm sorry,' Sihtric replied without looking away from the same map he was staring at last night.

'Lord?'

He took a deep breath, then only half turned, allowing you to see his sharp and near perfect side profile while he spoke to you while still avoiding eye contact.

'I'm sorry,' he said softly, 'if I have made you do things you did not want to last night.'

'No,' you protested, 'no, Lord, you have not done anything against my will. It was… it was a pleasure,' you confessed with a shy smile.

'But,' Sihtric scoffed lightly, then finally looked at you as you stood in the door, 'you wouldn't look at me all day.'

'I was ashamed, Lord,' you said quickly, 'I was worried that you felt it had been a mistake, and that you perhaps felt shame.'

'I don't think it was a mistake. I have no regrets, my lady. And I would not hesitate to do it again, if you would allow me.'

'I would allow you,' you giggled, your entire body becoming warmer upon hearing his words, 'but I… I'm afraid I will need an evening to recover, Lord.'

'Recover?' Sihtric furrowed his brow.

'Lord,' you chuckled awkwardly, 'if I may be so honest, you are, and I mean this with the utmost respect, very blessed with your,' you swallowed hard, 'your, well, your s-size and, eh, skills.'

'Oh,' Sihtric breathed with a whisper, and his cheeks turned a shade of red, 'I- I thank you, my lady. And I see. Well then, please, go and rest now.'

You thanked him and left, your heart beating out of your chest while you felt droplets of sweat running down your back. Your mouth was dry and your hands were clammy, but knowing that you had evidently pleased the man you had been in love with for months now, even as much so that he wanted to have you once again tonight, made you giggle in your bed as you tried to get a good night's rest and recover from the soreness which taunted your legs and hips.

The next evening you landed in bed with Sihtric once again, making love for hours and afterwards falling asleep in his arms once more. You had intended to sneak out of his room again that following morning, figuring your nightly adventures were still meant to be kept secret, but to your surprise you discovered that Sihtric had already left the room himself and so you found yourself alone in his large bed. You noticed you had slept longer than usual, as the night before had required quite the energy from you, and you jumped out of bed to start your day's routine.

As the weeks progressed, you and Sihtric began to spend many nights together in his room, after your duties had been done. The first few times after that first night were just as tender and sweet, but you gradually began to learn that as tender as he could be, his rugged warrior side had never left him after the last battle he ever fought. He slowly became rougher with you over time. Instead of carefully picking you and carrying you to his bed to lay you down gently, he started to throw you over his shoulder while you were still preparing his bed, after which he would toss you onto the soft sheets before climbing on top of you and pinning you down. And whenever you weren't making love in the late evenings, you were simply talking for hours while you sat snuggled up in his large windowsill, gazing at the Moon and her stars while you spoke of the past and dreams for the future.

Sihtric was a man with secrets and desires that were new to you, and no one could possibly make you feel as loved and safe as he did while he utterly ravaged you at the same time. It was a mystery, the way he was so rough and still gentle, and it only made you want him more. You began to taunt him during the day while you were working, giving him playful winks or running your hand down his bare chest as you stood behind him and washed his hair. And sometimes you lightly tugged his hair while braiding his locks, his low grunt sending a pleasant shiver down your spine and causing you to press your thighs together as you could only anticipate how he would retaliate later that night, and he never disappointed.

Where you had first tried to be discreet and quiet, he began to take you in ways that made it impossible for you to keep your volume down. And Sihtric didn't care, for the louder you were for him, the more he loved it. He enjoyed the idea of having others know how good he treated you, and how good he was treated in return as well. Your escapades continued and you fell asleep in his arms almost every night, only to wake up alone in his bed again the next morning. It had become a new routine, and it was one you both equally enjoyed.

But soon, your nights spent together gained a dark side to it. Naturally, the remaining maids had heard the lewd noises coming from their Lord's bedroom. And more than once one of them had noticed you were dressed in yesterday's gown, as you were spotted leaving his room in the morning after you had tidied it, as was your duty. And after days of wondering, the maids all gathered one late evening and peeked through the tiny gaps in the wooden walls, as sinful sounds and words were heard once again. Your secret was discovered, and jealousy began to spread along with rumours.

They whispered that you were degraded from being a respected maid to a filthy whore. They believed that you slept with Sihtric in the hopes to inherit his lands one day. Some even believed you had been his mistress when his wife was still alive, while you weren't even in Dunholm when he was still married. And others believed you had worked in the town's whorehouse before humping your way into the Lord's home, continuing your job as a whore not just with Sihtric, but according to them also inviting other men to your own private room on nights that Sihtric wasn't present in the town.

None of these stories were true and the lies that were made up, by those who simply wished to have one night with the man you had fallen in love with, began to hurt and affect you. Sihtric noticed you gradually started to shy away from his teasing, to the point of even politely turning him down when he made an advance in private. You eventually started to sleep in your own room again and wouldn't even respond to his tender touches anymore while you did your duties, to which Sihtric felt rejected and confused. And you again began to feel that, as Sihtric still snuck out every morning when you shared the bed with him, he was ashamed of being with you.

It all led up to one late evening which would change everything. You had been pulling away from Sihtric, which had kept him up at night as he wondered what he had done wrong while tears pricked in his eyes. He had fallen in love with you during the nights you were intimate, not just due to the intercourse, but even more by the long and deep conversations you had as he held you in his arms.

And Sihtric became truly concerned when you suddenly didn't show up one evening, at the usual time, to do your tasks of preparing his bed and untangling his braided hair. He got up from his desk and grabbed his robe, and then as you suddenly entered his room, his heart dropped and broke, for your face told him you had been crying.

'You're pulling away from me,' he spoke first, his voice trembling, 'why? What have I done wrong? Have I hurt y-'

'I wish to be freed from my tasks and leave,' you said quietly.

Sihtric stared at you, and the silence seemed endless before he finally spoke.

'I beg your pardon, my lady?' he said, barely above a whisper, 'leave?'

'I… I am not a pleasure maid,' you sniffled, 'I know you do not wish to be seen with me as you always sneak away in the morning, but the others, all the maids already know about us. They have spied on us, through the walls, and now they are talking ill of me and spreading false truths. I do not mind to please you, Lord, but it is not my duty, and if you are ashamed of me-'

'Ashamed?' Sihtric interrupted, 'why would I be ashamed of you? My first wife was a whore, by the gods,' he scoffed, 'you are my maid, yes, but your job is not to sleep with me, and you're not just a maid to me either. I have no shame in humping you. In fact, I take great pride in it and it was never meant to be seen as… as a duty. I am terribly sorry if you thought it was your job to spend nights with me. And I only sneak away because you snuck away after that first night. And I thought you did not want to be seen with me, so I only did what I thought was right. I thought that's how you wanted it, to keep it a secret, so I tried too.'

'What?' you could only ask after another long silence.

'I… I thought you didn't want to be seen with me,' Sihtric shrugged, bewildered at the entire situation, just like you.

'What? No. Oh, Sihtric,' you sighed, 'you foolish man- Lord, I mean.'

'I… I don't understand.'

'I thought you wanted to keep us a secret,' you said, 'for I am not a lady of status. I believed I was only good for your pleasure, which I enjoyed myself too, but I… I have feelings for you. Real feelings. I know we can never be, and I enjoyed our nights together, but all these… these lies that are being told about me now, that I am deceiving you and that I am merely a whore who lets every man hump her… I can't bear it anymore. You don't know what it's like to be banished by your friends, by the other maids, because they are jealous and suddenly think less of me and they believe I only want your riches. But I don't. I don't care about any of that, I swear it. I only care about you. I've only ever cared about you, because I… I love you.'

You had said it. There was no reverse to the words you had spoken out loud, and Sihtric seemed clearly surprised and taken aback. He paced around his room for a moment while he compulsively scratched his goatee, and then cleared his throat as he looked at you.

'You love me?'

'I do, Lord.'

Sihtric hummed as he continued to pace around, and he stopped once he stood in front of you.

'Very well,' he said, 'there is only one thing I can do to make these lies stop, and that is to make you my wife.'

'W-what?'

'Will you be my wife?'

You stared at Sihtric while you slowly processed his words.

'Your… wife?'

'My wife,' he suddenly smiled proudly.

'I… y-yes?' you let out a sudden nervous laughter, 'I mean, yes. Yes, of course I want to be your wife!'

You both laughed as relief settled, and Sihtric was quick to grab your face as gently as always, and he kissed your lips eagerly after having been deprived of your taste and touch for days now. You were as needy as he was, and soon you began to rake your fingers through his loose hair, dishevelling it further as you did.

'Now that you'll be my wife,' he murmured in between kisses while he lifted you up in his arms, 'I should make it clear for everyone,' he said while you enveloped your legs around his waist, 'that I hump my wife whenever,' he kicked his bedroom door open and walked over to the large table in the great hall, 'and wherever I want.'

He sat you down on the table, where everyone could see you as the great hall was the heart of his residence, and he pushed your skirt up. His warm hands squeezed your thighs, very aware that several maids were around and had stopped what they were doing after hearing his door slam open. They watched with their mouths agape as their Lord untied his robe and wrapped his hands under your knees to pull you flush against him. You were dazed but fully present and aware of what was happening, and you made no attempt to stop him, as you knew this was his way of silencing the slander that had been made up and spread about you.

You slid your hands up to tangle your fingers into his hair while he kissed you as greedily as he had done that first night. Sihtric swiftly removed your undergarments and lined himself up, his robe barely covering up both your privates, but neither of you cared. A gasp left you both once he sheathed inside you, and the room was dead silent at that moment, apart from the clattering of a cup that one maid dropped as she stared with big eyes at the events that unfolded upon the table she had just prepared for the next morning.

Sihtric rutted against you, having missed you and that way you made him feel while you had pulled away from him, and he was desperate to make up for the precious time that was lost. And so were you. You moaned against his lips as he took with a steady and ravaging pace, proudly claiming you in front of everyone present in the hall. And you enjoyed him entirely, with his lips on your neck, your hands in his hair, and his hands gripping your waist while his cock was buried deep inside you. You couldn't get enough of him, knowing that every pair of eyes on you belonged to those who had polluted your name and reputation, and they were watching from the darkened corridors and corners with maddening jealousy. They watched how Sihtric grunted your name as the table creaked underneath you and the setted plates and cutlery rattled with each hard thrust, while the silver and golden cups fell over and rolled off the table as you came with a loud moan.

'My wife,' Sihtric growled as came inside you, 'tomorrow, I'm making you my wife.'

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#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic

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hungermakesmonsters · 28 days

Text

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : M - frisky but not entirely smutty

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some friskiness and a mention of a self-inflicted cut. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 4.8k

A/N : Keeping with my tradition of Billy going a little feral in the third chapter. Also a tumblr bug keeps messing up my tag lists.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Three

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning, playing that moment over and over in your mind; the way his dark eyes had seemed to look right through you, the way his cold hand had felt on your neck over your racing pulse. Just thinking about it caused your body to heat and your cheeks to burn with shame.

What would have happened if he hadn’t pulled away?

What would you have let happen?

Fingers gripped the fabric of your satin pyjamas, your hand anchoring itself as you resisted the urge to relieve the gentle throb that still lingered between your thighs.

What had he done to you?

Had he done anything at all?

You weren’t sure. You’d heard stories of vampires seducing people, bending them to their wills but, honestly, it hadn’t felt like that. And if it had been that, why had he pulled away? No, you’d been annoyed with him, you’d wanted to show him that you weren’t some silly naive child who didn’t know what she was doing, only it had backfired.

Eventually sleep claimed you, his words echoing in your mind as you drifted off; ‘like sunlight and innocence, sweet, like warm honey.’

Five hours later, your alarm startled you awake. You felt exhausted but sleep had cleared your head enough to let you think more objectively and to help you realise that you’d been a little ridiculous. His touch had caught you off-guard but he hadn’t done anything to you beyond that and, if anything, you’d been the one thinking about him kissing you. You were the one who had wanted him to kiss you.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were starting to go a little stir-crazy trapped in the penthouse, and Billy was - well, he was just about the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he annoyed you with the smug way he looked at you and the way he spoke to you like he didn’t think you really understood the world that you’d found yourself in, he’d been kind so far. At least, kinder than any employer needed to be to their employee.

In a moment of silliness, you’d allowed yourself to view that kindness as something more, you’d allowed yourself to engage in some ridiculous fantasy that he might kiss you, might want you, when all he’d really done was try to keep you company.

And Lissa had warned you of the effect that your embarrassment could have on vampires. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how your racing heart must have made him feel.

After getting out of bed, you tried to go about your day as usual, trying not to think about the night before but, instead, thinking of ways to avoid it in future. It didn’t take long for you to realise that the only thing that was going to stop you from going stir-crazy was going outside, being able to leave the penthouse for a few hours. You didn’t know what you’d do or where you’d go, but you were certain that it would help.

But you’d need permission to go outside, and that meant you were going to have to ask Billy.

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed - of course he’d agree, why wouldn’t he? Your job was to provide blood, and all that really took was ten to twenty minutes of your day. As long as there was something waiting for him in the fridge every day, did it really matter where you’d been?

Of course, you understood that there were other rules, things you’d have to remember; only eating food from the approved list (though, once you started thinking about that you weren’t sure why that was so important), no sex (something you were embarrassingly used to), and not letting any other vampires feed from you (which you had no intention of doing regardless of Mr Russo’s rules). The point was that you could stick to his rules just as easily out of the penthouse as you could inside of it so, to your mind at least, there really was no reason for him to refuse to give you permission to go out.

You distracted yourself by doing some baking, paying more attention to the approved food list than you had since arriving. Maybe you’d ask Billy about it, get him to explain why you weren’t allowed to eat certain things. For one little cynical moment, it almost felt like he wanted to control every aspect of your life, even though your job didn’t require it.

Once you’d had dinner, you decided to remain in your rooms, distracting yourself with Netflix for an hour or so before it was time to draw blood and take it out ready for Billy.

You stepped out of your quarters just as he was emerging from his rooms. For a second he seemed almost shocked that you weren’t in your usual place on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to dwell on the thought. Instead his eyes dropped to the blood in your hand.

“Excellent timing,” he said with a grin, heading towards the kitchen.

For a second you hesitated, not saying a word when you finally made your way towards him, watching his back as he pulled an insulated travel mug from a cupboard.

Was going to take your blood with him? Was he going to walk the streets of New York sipping your blood like it was his venti cappuccino from Starbucks? The thought unsettled you, though you weren’t sure why. Still, you placed the bottle down on the counter beside him and took a step back.

“Did you not watch the sunset tonight?” He asked, his attention momentarily turning to you. You shook your head and mumbled something about being tired. If he cared, he didn’t let it show, quickly turning his attention back to your blood. “Still warm,” he remarked quietly, running his teeth over his lower lip as he poured it into his travel mug.

A memory from the night before came back to you, completely unbidden; the sound he’d made, that gentle almost-moan from the back of his throat. Your blood had still been warm then too - was that how he preferred it? Did it remind him of drinking from a person rather than a glass? You shook your head, trying to force that thought away.

“I -” you opened your mouth and the word just tumbled out.

Billy turned back to you, pressing the lid onto the mug in his hand. He waited a beat before prompting you to continue; “yes?”

“I -” you started again, your cheeks warming and your heart beating a little fast. The way his eyes narrowed a little told you that he could hear it, and that just made you feel worse. “I was wondering if I could have permission to go outside tomorrow.”

“Oh,” that single syllable making your request sound banal and trivial. He regarded you for a moment. “No, not to tomorrow,” he decided, but before you could open your mouth to respond, he continued; “we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

“But, I -” you started but stopped the moment he let out an irritated sigh.

“Are you not happy here? Would you like to terminate your contract?” He asked, as if you’d been asking him for far more than just a few hours outside.

“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, again feeling so small in front of him, “It’s just... lonely being on my own all the time, and being cooped up indoors is -”

“I said we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

You fell silent, gaze dropping to the floor as he walked away from you, heading towards the elevator. Once he was inside and the door had shut, you kicked the nearest kitchen unit in frustration, achieving nothing but hurting your bare foot.

Storming back to your room, you felt - you felt like a child, like you’d been refused permission to play outside with your friends. It felt like you’d just been grounded, even though you’d done nothing wrong.

But you weren’t a child, you were an adult, and he had no right to make you feel so small and pathetic.

You paced your room in anger, feeling claustrophobic, like you’d never get to leave. He’d make you spend a whole year trapped indoors just because he could. It felt like you’d traded one prison for another by coming to New York, by taking this job. But, if you left now, where would you go?

As much as you wanted to call Lissa and tell her you wanted your things so you could leave, you had no money and nowhere to go but home, and that fate seemed far worse than this one.

Despite feeling tired, you spent another restless night before sleep claimed you, and you woke with a headache that followed you for the rest of the day. You felt listless and, for the first time since arriving, you didn’t want to follow the schedule that you’d created for yourself; you didn’t take a walk on the treadmill, didn’t visit the library to listen to music or read, you could barely even bring yourself to eat beyond some toast for breakfast and noodles for dinner.

He said you could talk about being allowed out that evening but, the longer you were left with that thought, the more you managed to convince yourself that he’d just say no. So, you decided to save him the effort of the conversation. You drew blood early, long before you expected him to emerge from his rooms, and placed it in the refrigerator for him before returning to your bedroom and locking the door.

You spent the rest of the evening just like you’d spent the day; in your pyjamas watching crappy cartoons on Netflix, trying not to think about how you were going to survive a whole year of this when you hadn’t even managed to make it to two weeks before starting to come apart at the seams.

It was easy to lose track of time and fall asleep on the sofa in your room only to wake up a few hours later, uncomfortable and cold. You eventually went to bed, not bothering to set an alarm for the next morning, laying in until some time after midday.

The extra sleep didn’t help matters and, somehow, you still felt exhausted. Something else you decided to blame on being stuck indoors.

You forced yourself to shower and wash your hair before putting on some clean clothes, hoping that it would make you feel a little bit better about yourself. It did, but you definitely hadn’t done yourself any favours by not eating much the day before. You tried to make up for it by cooking yourself a proper meal for dinner.

Drawing blood left you feeling sick but you decided to get it over and done with early, so you could crawl back into bed, but you should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, you were surprised to find him out there, sitting on the sofa, hours before sunset. You faltered, thinking about turning back, but you had blood for him. He didn’t even have to look to realise you were there.

“I must have missed you last night,” he said, finally turning to look at you, ignoring your obvious uncertainty. “Or were you avoiding me?”

“I thought my job was to provide you with blood, not be your friend,” you answered sharply, heading towards the kitchen, wanting to get the moment over and done with as quickly as possible.

“You’re upset with me?” When the question was left unanswered, he got to his feet and followed you to the kitchen. “Is this because I wouldn’t give you permission to go out?”

You didn’t even look at him as you placed the blood in the fridge and turned to head back to your room. But he wasn’t going to let you walk away. He stepped in front of you, blocking you, his cold hand beneath your chin urging you to look at him.

“I can’t fix whatever this is if you don’t explain it to me,” he told you, hand lingering beneath your chin, making sure you didn’t look away.

Standing in front of him like this, you finally got a true appreciation of his height and just how much he towered over you.

“You told me that I have power in this arrangement,” you spoke around the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “It doesn’t feel like I do.”

“You do, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“Then why can’t I go out? Why is it such a big deal for me to go to a coffee shop or a museum for a couple of hours?” You asked, trying to ignore the cold, light touch of his fingers. “Why do I even need permission?”

“Because it isn’t safe,” Billy stated flatly. “For either of us.”

You weren’t sure what explanation you’d been expecting him to offer, but that certainly hadn’t been it.

“What do you mean?” Your confusion written across your face.

“I thought you understood what you were getting into when you took this job,” Billy sighed, his hand finally dropping back to his side

“I -” your gaze dropped again but only for a moment, “- I thought I did too.”

As much as it made you feel helpless, like some stupid, naive child, you were willing to confess in this instance that you didn’t understand. But you wanted to. You wanted to know why he seemed so intent on keeping you in the penthouse, and why he thought your going outside might be dangerous for either of you.

“Just because this is legal it doesn’t mean that people are accepting of it. There are those that would hurt you to get to me, or simply because they don’t agree with our arrangement.” Another sigh slipped from his lips and you watched as his shoulder lifted in an uncomfortable half-shrug. “I told you, you’re my responsibility, and if anything happened to you -”

“Why isn’t it safe for you if I go out?” You asked, wanting to understand which of you he was truly trying to protect.

“Because I’m the monster that’s taking advantage of the sweet, innocent young girl’s desperation, keeping you in my thrall so I can drain your blood,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if that was what was actually happening here. “If anyone found out, they’d burn the building to the ground.”

There was something about his voice, something that you knew should have scared you, something dark and sinister. You felt your cheeks start to heat, and that strange unwanted feeling growing in your stomach.

“I’m not -”

“What? Sweet? Innocent? Desperate?” The corners of his lips curled upwards as his dark eyes stared into yours. “Or do you really believe you’re not in my thrall?”

Your cheeks felt like they were burning and, despite taking a slow breath, your heart started to beat a little fast. His lips continued to curl upwards, and it took you a few seconds to realise that he was joking.

“That’s not funny,” you remarked quietly.

“It doesn’t have to be funny,” he shrugged, “it’s what people will believe regardless of what I do.”

“It’s not like I’d go out and tell people what I do for you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Who’d want to admit to any of this?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice and you immediately felt bad.

As complicated as all of this was and as much as you didn’t like how much control he had over things, it was what you’d accepted and agreed to. He wasn’t holding you prisoner, you could quit whenever you wanted. By admitting that you’d want to keep this hidden, you were admitting to being ashamed of what you were doing, you were admitting that some part of you felt like it was wrong.

All he’d really done was give you a job. And all he was doing was trying to exist.

Billy allowed the silence to linger for a few moments before breaking it.

“Like I said, we can discuss the possibility of you going out, but I would prefer that you didn’t go alone.”

“But, how - I mean, you can’t -”

“Go out during the day? No, I can’t,” he decided to intervene and save you any further embarrassment. “But I have human friends or, if you’d prefer, there are plenty of places open after dark. We could even go to dinner...”

“Dinner?” It seemed like a strange offer for him to make. “I didn’t think vampires ate?”

Billy gave the slightest huff of laughter, no doubt at your lack of knowledge. He shook his head, obviously forcing back his smile.

“We can eat, it just doesn’t sustain us the way it does for humans.”

“Oh,” was the only word you allowed to fall from your lips. You had questions - so many questions - but you didn’t want to ask because it would just show your ignorance further. And it didn’t even cross your mind that your boss had basically just asked you to go to dinner with him.

“I can’t promise I’ll be able to arrange anything straight away, but if you really want to go out I’ll sort something out. I just need you to be patient, okay?” He told you and you nodded, not happy but certainly feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d eventually be able to go outside.

The conversation over, you wanted to return to your room and rest, hoping you’d feel better by tomorrow. But you didn’t move and neither did Billy. He stayed silent, watching you, considering you for a moment.

Then his hand was on your cheek and your breath caught.

“You look tired,” his voice soft now, sad even.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

“You’re not. You’re not sleeping enough and you haven’t been eating properly.”

“How -” you shook your head, deciding you didn’t want to know, but Billy decided to answer regardless.

“Your blood.” When you didn’t respond, he continued. “The agreement is that you stay in good health, that includes eating and sleeping. I know that all of this has been an adjustment for you, but I need to know that going forward you’ll do what’s required to take care of yourself.”

You almost wanted to laugh. For a split-second you’d almost thought that he might actually be concerned for you, that he might care about your wellbeing. But, no, he only cared because - what? Your blood didn’t taste as nice when you were tired and hungry?

“Yes, Mr Russo,” you answered, finally forcing yourself to take a step back, causing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

He was about to remind you to call him Billy but, obviously, he thought better of it. Nodding, he let you go.

“I won’t be back until late tomorrow night,” he told you and, again, all you could do was nod as you slipped back through the door to your rooms and headed for your bedroom.

As you sat down on your sofa and turned on the TV, you couldn’t help but think over everything that had been said. You could still hear the bitterness in his voice when you’d admitted that you didn’t want anyone to know about your arrangement. With time to think about it, you knew it wasn’t fair; people might not accept or understand it but, really, it was no one else’s business what either of you did. Besides, what was the alternative? Plenty of people sold blood, a lot of them made a living working for blood farms. How was this any different?

You even grudgingly understood why he wasn’t comfortable letting you go out without an escort. The longer you sat and thought about it the more conflicted you felt. Billy seemed to be trying and you were - you didn’t even know what you were doing anymore. You were being difficult. In part that was because of him, because of his demeanour, because he was just so damned attractive, but that didn’t excuse your behaviour.

Regardless of how you felt about him or about anything, you’d agreed to his conditions at the start of this and you didn’t get to throw a tantrum when you didn’t get your way. If Billy was willing to meet you halfway, then that would have to do.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, you sat back and watched TV, trying to relax before you finally went to bed.

The next day was a reset, you started your little schedule all over again, and you decided that you were going to make more of an effort. This was a job and you were getting paid over two and a half thousand dollars a day, you needed to remember that fact. You needed this to work out. It was only a year and, after that, you’d never have to follow rules again.

You felt better, you felt like the last few days had been nothing more than a bump in the road; you were still getting used to everything, still getting used to dealing with Billy, that was all.

It was nice having some space, knowing that you wouldn’t have to try and make conversation with him that night. It meant you could sit and read out in the penthouse and watch the sun going down. Though, it would have been a lie to say that you didn’t wonder where he was or what he was doing.

Before going to bed that night, you drew blood and left it in the fridge for him, for whenever he returned. Tomorrow, you’d bring up the subject of going outside again, even if it meant going out at night with him. With a tired sigh, you closed your eyes and quickly fell asleep

The sound of breaking glass and a pained howl pulled you from your sleep. It was still pitch black outside and, without thinking, you quickly left your room and headed out into the penthouse.

The lights were on and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. The source of the noise was easy to spot; Billy in the kitchen, braced against the counter like it was the only thing holding him up, his head hanging forwards. The floor was a mess of blood and broken glass, and it was starting to become apparent what had happened here.

“Mr Russo?” You called softly, daring to slowly step towards him. He didn’t answer, so you tried again. “Billy?”

Tension seemed to fill his body, like a predator getting ready to pounce, but he didn’t move.

“Stay back.”

It wasn’t his voice, it wasn’t that rough, dark tone that you’d been playing over in your head, it was something else. A snarl, an angry and desperate sound that had managed to claw and tear its way out of him.

Your heart started to pound, every ounce of common sense you possessed telling you to turn back, to lock yourself in your room. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him not knowing if he was alright. It just wasn’t how you were raised.

“What happened?” A stupid question, but it helped break the silence. “Do you need help cleaning -”

He turned and your heart skipped a couple of beats, squeezing in your chest, causing your breath to catch. His dark eyes were almost completely black, like endless voids staring at you; his face was paler than ever and his hands were trembling uncontrollably at his sides.

You’d only seen something like this once before but you knew immediately what was happening.

He was hungry.

“I said stay back,” his teeth bared, his voice causing your stomach to knot.

By the time you reached the kitchen, he’d turned to face you, his body pressed back against the counter like he was trying to keep himself away from you. You mind raced, trying to figure out what to do, trying to figure out how to help him. You couldn’t leave him like this - if not for his sake, but for the sake of anyone who might come across him.

(You were going to have to feed him, but you couldn’t let him bite you. You wouldn’t let him bite you.)

With slow movements, you reached for the cutlery drawer and cautiously removed a knife. You saw his eyes widen, a flicker of shock and fear on his face, like he thought you were going to turn the knife on him. But, without pause or hesitation, you drew the blade across your palm and offered him your bloody hand.

“Here,” you offered timidly.

“What are you -” but his words fell dead the second he looked at your hand. For a second he shrank back, fighting his nature as the hungry look on his face turned more desperate. Without warning, he surged forwards, taking your hand in his and pulling it to his lips. Your heart continued to race as you felt his lips against the wound, pounding an uncomfortable rhythm that echoed in your ears.

You heard that sound from him again only, this time, it wasn’t suppressed; a guttural moan that vibrated through his chest as he pressed himself closer and closer to you. He didn’t stop pressing forward until you felt the counter at your back, his hard body against yours, leaving no space between you.

The floor disappeared beneath you. No, you quickly realised that you had been lifted up, placed on the counter. His hips slotted between your thighs, pressing closer still, and - oh.

You gasped at the hard outline of his cock between your legs and the way he started to grind himself against you. It was too much and not enough all at once. It was wrong and you knew it shouldn’t be happening but all you could think about was satisfying the dull throb that you’d felt between your legs for days. It wasn’t long before your cheeks started to heat, feeling the wetness of your arousal quickly soaking through your satin pyjama bottoms. Instead of coming to your senses and pulling away, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

A whimper escaped you as his free hand slipped beneath your pyjama top, his cold fingers trailing upwards until his hand was palming your breast, his icy touch causing your nipple to pebble.

The longer it went on, the more it felt like some wonderful dream, like it wasn’t really happening. You felt like you could float away at any more moment, the whole world turning on its axis, all because of him. You couldn’t think why, couldn’t summon enough rational thought to think those feelings through, not when you could feel just how thick and hard his cock was.

His lips pulled from your hand, leaving you feeling breathless. The blood smeared across his mouth should have disgusted you - everything about this should have disgusted you - but it didn’t. All you could think about was the euphoric sensation of his hips moving against yours, pushing you closer and closer to a breaking point, so you didn’t shy away when his blood-slick lips slanted over yours or when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

The taste of your blood on his lips barely even seemed to register. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care. Everything about the moment was intoxicating, you felt drunk, lightheaded, like you couldn’t even control your own body anymore. All you could do was exist in the moment.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, blood soaking into his shirt as you held tight. Soon enough, your hips started moving against his, desperately seeking the sensation that now felt so close. All the while Billy kept kissing you, letting out unrestrained groans against your lips, obviously chasing his own satisfaction.

Desperate for breath, your lips finally pulled from his, your head dropped back taking gasped breaths between your moans. But it wasn’t enough to stop the room from spinning, to stop the feeling of losing yourself completely.

“My little hummingbird,” you heard him groan.

Fingers fisted his hair as his lips moved to your neck, rough kisses quickly giving way to sucking and licking at your skin, while the press of his cock became more frenzied. Then you felt the scrape of teeth against your throat and -

Your vision swam, overcome by the most violent orgasm you’d ever experienced; your body shivering and shaking with the intensity of it before you slumped forward into his arms, losing consciousness.

Chapter Four

End Note : Idk why Billy always goes feral in the third chapter but here we are. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading!!

Tumblr is being stupid and only letting me mention 5 people at a time so this week I'm going to try putting all the mentions in the comments for the tag list. Sorry if you didn't get tagged last chapter

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List:

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #billy russo imagine #(ob)ts ff

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Note

“An emergency contact…” Yuu scratches their head. “Well, there’s one adult who stands out. Someone who has welcomed me with open arms, listened to my needs, and someone I really look up to and trust. Headmage Crowley! Do you have Trein’s cell number?”

Not gonna lie, you had me bawling in the first half 😂

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

Up until now, Crowley had been nodding enthusiastically to your every comment. Feathers fluffed, eyes shut, as he bathed in the unearned praise. You could almost see his ego inflating right before you.

One adult who stands out.

A smile formed.

Someone who has welcomed me with open arms...

It grew, elevating the apples of his cheeks.

... listened to my needs...

He was glowing with pride, the most excited you had ever witnessed him.

... and someone I really look up to and respect.

His face might actually rip in half.

The you had dropped the bomb, and Crowley's entire demeanor collapsed in on itself. His shattered smile landed atop of the heap.

“Wh-What?! Professor Trein…!!” he managed to stutter out. “Did I hear you correctly?!”

"Yeah," you replied calmly. "Professor Trein."

"Wh-What exactly makes him a standout?!" Crowley demanded. When you gave him a queer look, he quickly deflected. "N-Not that I am envious, of course! I am asking as his employer so that I may take student feedback into consideration when calculating end-of-the-year performance-based bonuses."

"He's done so much to look after me and all of his students,” you patiently explained. “Professor Trein chaperoned us to the City of Flowers and taught us about its history. He ensured our safety when there was trouble afoot and even shed a tear for our moral character. I also heard from Ace and Deuce that Professor Trein oversaw NRC when Charon invaded campus.

“He always makes time to speak one-on-one with his students even on matters outside of schoolwork. Professor Trein cares about us like we're his real children and grandchildren. I'd totally trust him as my emergency contact.

“Compared to that… I seem to vaguely remember a certain someone who shirks his responsibilities at every opportunity, wastes his time on walks and snacks instead of running the school, offloads his duties onto children, and ignores my SOS calls when I was being held hostage over winter break.”

“I wonder who it could be that you’re speaking off.”

“Gee, I wonder,” you said sarcastically, staring right at Crowley. “Sucks that we’ll never know. Anyway, do you have Professor Trein's number or not?"

"W-Well!!" Crowley bristled, disarmed by your demand. "It wouldn't be very professional of me to hand out my employees' contact information as though it were Halloween candy! It's strictly confidential, I'm afraid I cannot divulge it."

He folded his arms smugly, waiting for you to change your mind, to beg for his cell phone number instead.

"Aaah, I get it." You shrugged, cool as a cucumber. "That's okay, I can ask Professor Trein directly myself. It was worth a shot to ask you anyway, headmaster. See ya!"

With that, you turned and exited his office. No fanfare, no groveling. Just... nothing.

Crowley completely deflated, cradling his head in his hands. He teased out a whiny groan.

"For them to overlook their most generous headmaster in favor of Professor Trein... Ooooh, where did I go wrong with that child...?"

#twst #twisted wonderland #Dire Crowley #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Two Ravens at the Writing Desk #Reader #self insert #glorious masquerade spoilers #book 6 spoilers #book 4 spoilers

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assassinnumber9 · 10 months

Text

TwiYor's Love Languages

So as you guys may or may not know, a little over a year ago I published a fanfic on Archive of Our Own called Loid Forger is NOT A Cuddler, which is basically just 5 chapters (so far) of Loid cuddling and denying it.

It's practically an essay for how his love language is physical touch.

And while I do like to joke about how Loid Forger is a cuddler and whatnot because of my fanfic and headcanon, this most recent manga chapter of Spy x Family gives me a perfect opportunity to talk about this headcanon and why it's in line with Twilight's character as well as Yor's own love language and how they relate.

We'll look at the obvious and pretty much explicitly stated first.

Yor's Love Language: Acts of Service

As previously mentioned, she basically says it outright. Her growing feelings toward Loid are much more obvious than his, and so it's easy to point out that her wanting to help him and have him rely on her is both a way for her to care/love him outwardly and a way for her to know he's accepting of that love.

I think Loid being the one to rely on her also makes her feel even more loved/trusted/confident, because Loid Forger is just so perfect at anything and everything he tries. From the outside, he really doesn't need any sort of help from anyone.

And, Twilight would likely agree. He's confident in his abilities and doesn't seem to want help from anyone as far as we've seen. The only missions he shares are the ones where more than one person is really needed.

Fiona could be potentially seen as someone he accepts help from, except that her help is more of an employee to an employer (or inferior to superior in their case.

And Franky... acts almost like a brother to Twilight? So like, they just force each other to help. Neither of them are accepting any kind of help, just going, "You're doing this."

All this to say that Yor is the only one that Twilight accepts and asks for help from. In the latest chapter, we see Twilight is comfortable enough to ask her.

And, she's ecstatic at hearing him ask for it.

She gets to finally show her love the way she knows how - the way she showed Yuri during her childhood.

Now for Loid Forger, rather Twilight.

Twilight's Love Language: Physical Touch

So far in the story, we have not seen much in terms of love when it comes to Twilight.

Emotions, and love especially, are weaknesses for spies unlike assassins, where emotions and attachments can be seen as strengths. Both fight for their respective loved ones, but the former has to do so hidden under a mask without being caught and the other is able to outwardly express these protective instincts through their actions (assassinations).

So, Twilight, like the great spy he is, hides his love.

You could possibly argue his love language is the same as Yor's (acts of service), but his acts are to keep her happy to ensure she stays with him (ie actually for the mission).

He also seems to give words of affirmation as well, but he only does so when he needs to provide them.

Gifts and Quality time can also be crossed out, because we don't really see him giving Yor gifts and we haven't seen him really go "I need to be with Yor more" yet. The only time we ever saw him think of her when they weren't together was during the cruise arc. But that’s not enough solid evidence for that specific one yet.

Also keep in mind that we haven't seen him express any of these languages to anyone else either.

There is one language we do have solid proof for, and of course that's physical touch.

While no, it's not proof that features Yor or even Anya.

We both hear and see it when it comes to his mother.

He explicitly states that he loved being held by her.

While this story was meant to show his mother's strength as a person, it confirms that loving physical touch was a large part of his childhood

Because he remembers it

Twilight remembers loving being held by her.

He can't remember her face, or his father's face, and is even flustered and confused after his PTSD flashback when he was unconscious. His memories are covered in trauma, and I believe one of the only reasons why he can remember what his friends looked like are because he saw them later in life.

It's hinted that he remembers very little of his childhood - likely due to the trauma.

But his mother holding him stayed with him.

Physical touch was an influential thing during his childhood.

Like Yor's love language during hers.

I would really like to believe that we'll see him learn to love touch again when he finally learns to accept his emotions, and in turn, his "weaknesses" (which will likely be turned to strengths).

And Yor being strong, a trait he remembers of his mother, only strengthens my theory that he'll learn to love physical touch again.

Because, he'll once again be able to know that everything is fine when he's holding her - just as he felt with his mother.

#spy x family #loid forger #yor forger #twilight #spyxfamily #twiyor #loid x yor #loiyor #loid forgerisms #sxf chapter 86 #sxf spoilers #sxf #sxf theory #love langauges

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

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Not A Verstappen: A New World {2}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Unexpected allies and strange changes are happening both on and off the track. Warnings: 18+ only, mature content, we got another period WC: 2.4k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three

Round One - Bahrain 2023 “Nice work out there,” Lance said as he clapped you on the back as you began your return to the motorhome smelling like champagne.

“You too, not a bad start at all,” you said with a grin. It was the first race and already you had scored a podium for Aston Martin, albeit behind both Red Bulls.

“Not sure your boyfriends would agree. Have you seen them yet?”

You sighed and shook your head. Charles had out-qualified you, both Ferrari’s starting a row ahead, but in the end he hadn’t been able to finish the race. Lando wasn’t much better, coming in last with who remained in the race.

“I’ll hunt them down after I find my mum. She’s probably lost and confused by now.”

“She’ll get used to the paddock soon enough. It must be good to have her finally come to your races.”

“I’m not sure she would say the same thing,” you chuckled. “Did you see how nervous she was at testing last week? Thought she was going to have an aneurysm when she heard my top speed.”

“Dad was like that when I started too.” Lance opened the door for you to the Aston Martin motorhome and grinned at the cheer that erupted. The race had only finished an hour ago and already the motorhome was being dismantled to move on to the next destination.

“One more race like that and we’ll already have more points than we had all of last year,” Lawrence said as he threw his arms around both you and his son. “Sensational! That’ll show the bastards at Red Bull they have a competition on their hands this year.”

“Can’t wait,” you smirked at the idea.

Lawrence squeezed your shoulder. “Show them what a mistake they made, alright?”

“With pleasure. Thank you for giving me the chance.”

Lawrence sighed and took a seat at an empty table, pointing you to the one opposite and he sent Lance off to get changed. “You’re a great driver, there’s no disputing that, so I’m happy to have you on the team - especially if you keep performing like you did out there. You could have an entire harem for all I care.”

“I’m happy with two, thanks,” you said with a laugh. “It does suck not being able to go out and celebrate though.”

You had received a warning letter before the season began with an outline on which countries you would be arrested in for showing any PDA, same with Lando and Charles. Bahrain was one and the next stop in Saudi Arabia was another. Lewis had tried to speak up but his influence couldn't change the laws that were going to be upheld and there would be no leniency.

“I’d rather not have to bail you out of jail so early in the season.”

“I can cover bail, just don’t rip up my contract,” you joked. “Please.”

“That wasn’t right. I have a daughter so I know full well the different treatment you ladies get no matter what you do.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice as he jutted a thumb over his shoulder, “They don’t even seem to remember Checo’s scandal in Monaco last year. It just goes to show that it wasn't because their ‘core values’ were breached. Red Bull is led by misogynists. End of.”

“Well don’t hold back, Mr Stroll.” You grinned at your boss and sat back in your seat feeling even more comfortable with your choice in employer. You had offers from Williams and Alfa Romeo, as well as a reserve driver for Mercedes, but you were glad you took the Aston Martin seat, even if green wasn’t your best colour. “I feel like I should set you up on a soap box outside their garage.”

“I’ve found they don’t pay much attention to words, we’ll just have to beat them instead,” he said as he rose from the table and wrapped his knuckles on the wooden top. “Have yourself a good evening.”

“You too, boss.”

After showering and searching the motorhome and failing to find your mum, you went in search through the paddock, finally locating her in McLaren’s hospitality.

“One race and you ditched me already,” you said to her as you stole one of their bottles of water from the fridge.

“I knew you were fine, so I thought I would check in on sweet Lando,” she said with a sad smile. “He’s not too happy with his result.”

You snorted a laugh and she slapped your arm as she shhh’d you. “What? No one jumps for joy at last place. It’s kind of obvious.”

“Just go and check on him okay? I’ll see you all for dinner later.”

You watched her navigate her way out and trusted that she could find her way back to Astin Martin. Kristian was staying in the same hotel so she was going to get a ride back with him while you rode with Lando and Charles after finishing the debrief and interviews. She had the endless patience of a saint, except when it came to the media.

You rapped your knuckles on the door before opening it and found Lando pacing the narrow space, his phone to his ear. “-least yours was a mechanical failure, my car is just shit. Oh, she just got here. We’ll see you soon. Love you.”

He tossed his phone onto the table and opened his arms, welcoming a warm embrace after the terrible performance he had endured. His chest was still damp from the shower and he smelt edible like a key lime pie when you kissed his collar bone.

“Proud of you,” he murmured into your neck where he buried his face and inhaled your body wash too.

“Proud of you too.”

He pulled back and shook his head like he didn’t believe you and you caught his face in your hands, forcing him to face you. “I am proud of you, baby. What you did today was much harder than me…the fact you still finished the race and held your head high shows how resilient you are. I probably would have done a Kimi and just fucked off mid-race.”

His chest bounced with a small laugh because you both knew it was true.

“You are going to be a world champion one day, I know it,” you swore as you pressed your forehead to his and felt him shake his head. “You don’t have to believe me, Lando. I believe in you. You deserve it, you have the raw talent - and one day you will have the car to match. Then you will be unstoppable.”

The door swung open as Charles let himself in and you delighted in the way his face lit up upon seeing you both opening your arms for him to join. “Mmmm,” he sighed as he closed his eyes and tipped his head onto Lando’s shoulder. “What a fucking day…Can we go home yet?”

Round Four - Baku 2023 You were a shoo-in for a podium place. It was in reach for the fourth race in a row, until the pain began. Sudden and strong, you nearly missed the corner as the ache in your abdomen grew to a point you couldn’t ignore it. You felt even bump in the road, every force of the turns, the pressure from your harness.

“Fuck,” you growled through gritted teeth. “How many laps left?”

“Five, why? Woah, your heart rate is through the roof,” Chris exclaimed, not nearly as calm as Nicholas would have been.

“Yeah, kind of happens when I’m in pain,” you retorted as you thought you could probably handle five more laps. There wasn’t another option anyway.

By the penultimate lap Charles had overtaken you and you saw his helmet turn your way ever so slightly, like time slowed as he passed. There was no way to see under his visor but you knew there would have been a look of concern on his face.

“Try to at least maintain your pace, Sainz is currently gaining.”

“I’m fucking trying alright.”

You managed to remain in fourth position as you crossed the finish line and then returned to the pits to see Charles’ Ferrari taking the last podium parking spot. You would have liked to have parked there but if it had to go to someone else you were glad it was him.

“Where’s Lando?”

“Ninth.”

You laughed happily at the news that he had also made it to the points again and turned off your engine to start unstrapping yourself. You reached between your legs for the buckle and swore under your breath as you felt the sticky residue on your race suit that was definitely not sweat.

Charles had been celebrating with his team before the final weigh in but when he returned to take a drink of water he noticed you still hadn’t climbed out of yours. He could see Lando’s car a few behind as he arrived but even he was touching down on the tarmac and pushing his steering console back into place.

“Charles, you’re up,” Max interrupted the step he took towards you. “What’s she doing? She’s not crying because she lost, right?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered half distracted before realising what Max had said and rolled his eyes. “She’s not crying.”

He seemed proven wrong when you pulled your helmet off your head and he saw tears streaming down your face. Max turned to Sergio and pointed to the interviewer waiting by the Sky News cameras. “Mate, can you go first?” They didn’t wait for an answer as your face contorted with pain and your head fell forward.

“Baby, you alright?” Lando asked as he reached you first, reaching in and taking your steering wheel out for you as you shook your head. “Here, let me help you out.”

“I can’t get out of the car,” you admitted as tears of embarrassment wet your hot cheeks.

“That's okay, I can carry you,” he murmured as he reached for you but you slapped his hands away.

“I can’t get out of the fucking car!” you snapped, immediately getting the attention of Charles and Max who had arrived too, only increasing the anxiety that you were feeling. “Please, just get my pit crew to jack up the car and wheel me to the garage.”

“Why?” Max asked as he crossed his arms, but then they dropped as he barked a laugh. “Did you pee in the car?”

“Fuck off, twat,” you grunted as Charles hit him on the shoulder with a, “Mate, it happens, leave her alone.”

You hunched over and clutched your abdomen as a cramp wracked your body and a pained groan slipped out. “Oh, oh shit,” Lando reacted first, knowing exactly what was happening after surviving three of your menstrual cycles over the winter break.

“Charles, Max, interview time.”

They both glared at the FIA official but Lando nodded his head. “Go, I’ll take care of her.”

Three Days Later Your knee nervously bounced as you sat in the doctor's room. “I never get periods during the racing season, something must be wrong.”

“Well, your test results were all normal.” She pushed her glasses back up her nose as she changed the folders she was looking at. “Are you feeling stressed?”

You pondered the question for a moment, not really having realised how different life was in Aston Martin and not having to hide your relationship. “Not really, no.”

“But you used to be,” she noted as she read through her past comments on your file. “Stress, as you know, can upset your hormonal balance quite significantly.”

“So I’m getting my period again because I’m not as stressed? That’s inconvenient.”

“It’s how your body should function.”

“I need it to stop.”

Reaching into her drawer, she grabbed a few pamphlets and laid them across her desk. “There’s certainly options, but they could have other side effects.”

You left the office with a prescription in hand but you weren’t sure how your boyfriends were going to take the news. They were always concerned about your health and wellbeing that it could go one of two ways.

“I thought the hormones would mess with you,” Lando said as he shook the box and heard the rattle of the foil trays inside.

“They are messing with me now.” You dropped down onto the couch as he passed the box over to Charles to read. “Who knew Red Bull could be so stressful?” you mused.

“Pierre, Albono, Kvyat,” Lando listed with a smirk.

“I think you should take them, if you think it will help,” Charles decided as he placed the box back in your hand.

“There’s only one way to find out,” you shrugged, cracking the foil seal on the first tablet. “Plus, we’ll save a fortune not having to buy condoms.”

“Wait, what?” Lando’s face lit up like a kid at Christmas. “I thought this was to stop your period.”

“I mean, it stops them, as well as having babies, like a two-for-one deal.”

“I could get on board that.” His lips curled up into a sexy smirk as he dropped into the space beside you and draped his arm across your shoulders. His body was already stirring at the idea and he looked up at Charles who had gone to get a glass of water for you. “Tell me you haven’t dreamt of this day.”

Charles rolled his eyes but didn’t refute him as he handed the glass over and watched you swallow the little pill. “Of course I have, mon cher.”

“Sorry, boys, it takes seven days to work. You’ll still have to wrap it if you want to tap it.”

It was mean but you took some pleasure in the collective groan they made.

“Block out your calendar,” Charles chuckled as he bent down and kissed you. “Seven days and we plan to absolutely ruin you.”

You squirmed at the thought, imagining the feel of their cum dripping from you after they filled you and it drove you feral. You grabbed Charles and pulled him onto the couch as he laughed at the sudden urge you had to feel his body on yours.

“Tell us what you need, chérie,” he teased while Lando’s lips found your racing pulse.

Your core clenched and reminded you of the emptiness within. “You,” you begged as your hands disappeared up their shirts and felt the hard muscles beneath your palms. “I need you to ruin me.”

Click here for part three.

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#Charles Leclerc x reader x lando norris #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #Charles Leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n

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writingsfromhome · 2 months

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Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

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#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #asks #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #dos and donts #ahhh #i didn’t edit this too much it all kind of came out at once #so ignore any errors #hope this is fun to read #it was fun to write

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