#idk man maybe im just that unlucky | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dailytatsu · 3 years

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Hello! I saw request were open so i was wondering if i could request some headcanons of the Archons and/or the Adepti meeting a God reader who is the God of Chaos and destruction. The reader is not a Archon tho and travels all over Teyvat cuz small bits of destruction were ever they go. They're pretty mischievous and somewhat smug but despite how they act they're actually a good person. They dont mean to cause problems(most of the time anyways) chaos follows them were ever they go. Idk if you have a character limit but if you do please tell me so i wont make a mistake again. And if there is you can just do Zhongli and Xiao. Optionally could you make them a dendro user, there not a lot of dendro content and if not thats fine. I understand. Could you make the reader Gn or Non-binary they/them pronouns please? If not male reader is totally fine. Im so sorry for the long post and I hope you have a good day/night!

Ohmy, it’s my first time just writing headcanons! I’m use to write a lot, so let’s hope I did it right (^ ^' )7

Thanks for the request! ✨

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[HC] God of Chaos! Reader and the Archons + Xiao

Characters: Zhongli, Xiao, Venti, Shogun Raiden (Ei).

Gn! Reader

I tried doing it with everyone but I’m no still that confident to try writing with some characters ＿|￣|○

Sorry for any mistakes!

Request are open!

Genshin Masterlist

Second part ->

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VENTI

To be honest, he didn't notice your presence at first. He had other concerns on his mind that day to perceive the chaotic (and slightly threatening) aura that Mondstadt was infected with that day.

Barbatos is a person of habit, so he couldn't help but be curious when the crowd in front of him began to look a little agitated instead of seeming to enjoy his lyre and his songs.

But then a series of domino events appeared in front of his very eyes.

The purity of the chaos was such that he felt overwhelmed, even without the white-haired boy around, if it wasn’t Bennett fault, then how was it possible for everything to be ruined in such a short time?

His patience ended when, out of nowhere, the strings of his lyre jumped close to his face as they snapped. Making that awful noise that couldn’t mean nothing good.

Okay, enough, who is messing around in here? No more joking in his nation!

He concentrated a little, a faint but unique presence kept his nerves on edge, as if he was being watched from afar. He moved away from the busy areas and then chased that ephemeral energy to the highest point of the church, where the bells were ringing in an irregular and stressful way.

Then he found you. Snoozing against one of the columns, somewhat tired because the trip you made to reach Mondstadt.

Surprisingly, Barbatos understood you since the first exchange of words. A god of chaos who was also a free spirit, you followed no rules ever written in Teyvat, and you had no plans to apologize for the mess you made.

Both of you were Zhongli’s worst nightmare, but that’s another story.

He managed to through your arrogance and your teasing nature that you, in fact, were a lonely spirit that liked to witness the life from above of everyone.

The difference between teasing someone accidentally and committing a crime was really visible, but he still couldn't help but feel like he should scold you after your mere presence messed up with the guild's baskets full of fish.

But hey! He also enjoy the company! Venti tried to teach you how to enjoy the calm and the whisper of wind, music can also contain chaos, feelings, old stories waiting to be told again, expressions and desire united, in a wonderful piece of-

As you yawned his lyre broke up again. Making clear the message.

Okay, not even God of Freedom and Wind can control chaos. Anyways, what a tragedy, but there’s nothing a simple bard can do, smh.

“Do you like kids, don’t you?” He said once, after a nice day of hearing him sing before your chaos reached his little concert. Again watching everyone from above on the hands of the statue, with your attention caught by some kids playing tag.

“… I don’t know what do you mean.” Once discovered you had no choice but to remain defensive, pretending to be disinterested.

“Heh, you aren’t a good liar.” It may not be the wisest thing to make fun of someone who could destroy the place where you were resting, but Venti was confident that he knew you well enough to know that you were not so explosive. “You know!, I just have some pieces, but I think it’s because they are little walking concentrations of pure and innocent chaos, am I wrong?”

He wasn’t, no at all. But you would never confess something that embarrassing.

This guy wrote a ballad about the days when Mondstadt got immerse with that strike of bad luck. Kind of an apology of not being able to handle the situation.

Now there’s the rumor that says that, every time somebody sings that song, something unlucky will happen in front of you.

The song is cursed.

One night when the moon was shining on the Cider Lake his well tuned ears distinguished a melody that was broken from time to time by the accidents of his performer, distracting him of his way to look for you.

It could be painful to listen to, but Venti could certainly feel the dedication of the one who was playing the imperfect song.

The ballad of the god of chaos, hummed like a lullaby that instead of making you sleep makes you question the events of the day. Wishing for the slightest thing to be different after an exhaustive week of peace and tranquility.

A lonely spirits cursing their existence, sitting in the highest point of a stranger’s palace, where you can reach the sky by only rising your hand.

The next day, Barbatos invited you to drink some wine, this time near Windrise to avoid accidents in the city.

As he almost dropped the bottle when a lot of slimes were attracted by your presence, he confirmed the theory about that the way to spend time with you would not be his personal definition of hanging out.

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ZHONGLI

Okay, there’s only two scenarios that could happened when you set a foot in Liyue.

Old man has a soft spot for you for being a relative young deity.

Or he’s always lecturing you for not having control of your aura and powers.

How u dare bringing chaos to the nation of order? It’s that a death wish?

Jokes aside, you’re not really a threat. And he could sense that after he saw how you tried to avoid having direct contact with the city. Rex Lapis found your silhouette jumping and crossing through the mountains until reaching the fairest point that allowed you to enjoy the view of the streets that were filled with life and light as the sunsets.

He even noticed how you sighed in frustration when a storm started out of nowhere. A rain dedicated just for the arriving of the God of Chaos. Not even bothering of getting shield, you stayed in your place to look at all the people who were getting back to their places.

The rain seemed to stop over your head, for a second was enough to stop you from being cruelly swamped by the very weather you had created. An elegant umbrella covered you, the long awaited surprise you expected from someone as outdated as Morax.

You looked up, and found his expression calm and attentive, watching you. As if he had made a great discovery that he could not believe

“May I have a moment of your time to keep you company? Letting out your sorrows in the middle of a torrential storm is not what I would recommend as way to spend a good day.”

“… What are you talking about? Get in your own business, old man.”

“Well, you should know that a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved.”

Next time you knew was that he was helping you to dry your hair with a towel once you let him guide you to his place.

Zhongli picked you up like a abandoned cat that day. Even if having you near meant to deal with new the roof leaks.

Also kept you away from Hu Tao, if you two ever get along for being partners in crime he would seal himself underground-

For all the time you spend exploring Liyue, there he was. Like a little kid showing his treasures. But also like a worried father looking after his child for them not to stumble making their first steps.

Look at you! Almost crushing those Treasure Hoarders when a bunch of rocks fell down after you jumped at the edge of the cliff.

Wait, no- come back here! You should verify the surroundings and be aware of the weight of your power if you’re going to explore in that bold way. You, chaotic brat.

Another one who believed fervently that your mood was to blame for the constant chaos you caused. He also tried to show you the wonders of peace and calm, teaching you how to prepare tea while listening to the storyteller (also both being a little far away from the rest of them, just in case).

He couldn’t help but sigh when the teapot arm broke as soon as you tried to serve the tea. What a waste, he thought.

You apologized to him, kind of stressed with yourself after you took all the pieces with your bare hands to run away with them. Leaving a confused Zhongli behind.

Next day you were back, with the teapot repaired and just like new.

He let out a lot of thankful words, some flattering and a lot more cheesy things that you never had received before.

With that unexpected affection you couldn’t help but react flustered; then a cat that was chasing a bird jumped through a lot of decorations and merchandise, almost starting a fire as the chained events kept going.

Yeah,, uh, Zhongli got some useful mental notes about you and your chaos that day.

Hey, before you go, want to make a contract? You won’t regret it!

But as the wandering spirit you were you had no problems in reject his offer, but also promising that you would visit Liyue if he wanted you to.

Of course he wanted! But.. maybe next time you should stay in Huaguang Stone Forest instead of roaming near the city,,

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XIAO

Tried to kill you.

I mean, your aura is threatening and full of a destructive energy, how is possible that you weren’t a demon to eradicate??

Sorry, but he had a point.

Your first met was on your way to reach Huaguang Stone Forest along with Zhongli for introduce you with the Adeptus.

Xiao, in the other side, thought that you were about to attack Morax from behind, so he just struck against you. With his polearm near to go through your chest, just stopped because you felt him before.

Lifting your hand at his direction, summoning chaos, this time, on purpose. The wind gained a wrathful nature and the biggest roots that were hiding under his feet rose to caught him.

And when you were about to hit each other Zhongli’s shield appeared just in time to separate both of you. Preventing a real catastrophic event.

Now stop fighting and introduce to each other.

Nice(n’t) to meet u.

What if you tried to awake Azhdaha to bring chaos and destruction to Liyue? What if you wanted to summoned Osial? What if… ?

Zhongli had to confirm and promise to him that those cruel possibilities won’t be a near future for respecting the real reason of your travel.

No matter if he wasn’t comfortable with your presence, it wasn’t his decision to allow you to roam freely, so he had to get use to it.

He immediately knew after hearing about your nature that was your fault that lately there were a lot more demons and monsters. Even his karma was getting more painful than usual.

(If you ever meet Hu Tao, please think twice before doing Xiao a prank)

You both didn’t interact a lot, and being honest, it was better that way.

He hadn’t a single intention of talking with you again until the day you were practicing the song that your Anemo friend taught you. By the other hand, Xiao noticed that the melody had the same nature as the one he once heard before being consumed by the karma.

It wasn’t a flute, but a worn lyre that was still in one piece after weeks of being repaired again and again.

“That song… ”

“Do you know it?” Xiao just nodded, staying in silence, being your very first audience even if you still have a lot to learn about playing a lyre.

It wasn’t as effective as the original, but was still… nice, kind of nostalgic.

Next morning, the Yaksha called for you. Made you stay still in the middle of a plain and then he disappeared of your sight.

He abandoned y- wait, what’s that? Why those monsters has that weird dark aura?

You were about to defend yourself until Xiao appeared back just in time to defeat them.

That day you became his personal bait for demons and monsters. Naturally you attracted chaos, so anyway you were, there will be also something to fight.

I guess this is your way to pay for all the troubles you made for him and his duty, so no complaining about it.

If you ask for a unexpected experience to Ganyu she would said that once she found both of you fighting along against the catastrophe, looking after each other’s back and almost having a perfect synchrony.

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SHOGUN RAIDEN; EI

Also tried to kill you.

Well, the puppet tried to.

And then Ei tried when you had the opportunity of facing her.

But since killing a god just mean the releasing of a lot, pure, energy she couldn’t afford that risk, much less considering your “speciality”.

Who knows what would happen to Inazuma if your vital energy burst across the nation. Just like that old story about Sal Terrae and their goddess.

She just defeated you. Letting you rest and recovering in the midst of the plane of her reality within her mind. Your inert body in the middle of the battlefield as she kept meditating.

When you woke up she ignored your presence, but also denying your complaints about letting you go out back.

In her words, you were a burden, another enemy of eternity. Something as unpredictable as you and your “accidents” couldn’t get along with her utopia.

Ei could banish you from Inazuma, but she knows your type. Stubborn and not accepting the most simple orders to obey.

She knew that you would found a way to be back.

It’s better like this.

And in the hypothetical case of you being freed when she trapped the traveler (kicking you out) and then having a chance to see her again after the end of the war, then things would be somewhat different.

There’s not that much of civilization on some islands, so she allowed you to explore as much as your heart wanted. But if something serious happen, she promised that would end her work in the middle of the sea so your remains never be found.

Okay, message clear. Just do chaos near monsters and bandits, got it,,

Even if she wanted to spend some time with you and telling you some stories about Inazuma and other gods she couldn’t found the right time to call you at her presence.

As the current ruler of Inazuma she was busier than the rest of Archons you have meet. Maybe just some letters now and then like a way to keep a logbook, but not really a face to face talk.

Until she got the opportunity of a day off, just to found you messing around near some ruins. Trying to solve a puzzle before your speciality strikes in. The structure fell down after your fingertips reached the stone.

When the dust dissipated, you discovered her figure judging you from the other side of the remain ruins.

Give her a good reason for not errase you from the map, I dare u.

You felt the worst was about to come when Ei ordered you to follow her after a long sigh. Crossing her arms and starting to walk away from the bunch of old and worn rock.

Plot Twist, she actually invited you to rest under a tree, asking in her serene voice the reason for your journey and your origin. In such a direct way that it seemed more like a sentence than a talk to get to know each other better.

You answered what you could remember and then the silence stayed like the only way of interaction between you two.

Ohno, you know this pattern. Something’s about to happen-

“There is some strange beauty in the chaos, it may be the calm after the storm, but the catastrophe itself is seen as a necessary evil to appreciate the stillness. How much it would last until the lighting hit the valley?”

“So I arrived to keep order between the humans?”

Well yes, but actually no.

“… You see, if there is nothing but order and a lack of problems, mortals are likely to create them on their own. Their minds feels the need to be tested, to prove their worth, so I guess some of your chaos may be part of the history.”

“… then shall we take a walk in Inazuma?” You did not know if you were right, but you thought you saw a faint smile through his lips in the same way that lightning can be seen in the sky.

“I’ll allow it.” She said.

Her only condition was for you not to approach the huge boxes of fireworks down the street.

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littlemisslipbalm · 3 years

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“your turn”

Harry Styles was a romantic. He hated weddings. Rori Williams was practical. She hated weddings, too. How could she deny a man who had just drunkenly confessed his love for her at a wedding? Even if it was completely and totally untrue.

A story of two semi-strangers to lovers with weddings, drunken confessions, and girls with two names.

gif has nothing to do with it but he looks fancy and i like it :) tpwk

Hi! this is for @meetmeinfleetwood to lovers fic challenge! and it’s a little cruel of me to post it today after those wedding pics came out but i have been working on this for awhile and tomorrow’s the deadline so if it’s too soon im sorry and if its just what you need enjoy! I used prompts 12 and 15! It’s my first ofc story which is a little strange for me but i wanted to use a name for this, but besides her hair and eye color and a name she’s pretty generic,,, idk thank you all for always reading and all of that. lmk what you think and reblogs are always really appreciated

Word Count: 9.3k | Warnings: drinking, swearing, implied? smut (couldn’t bring my heart to write any my apologies), harry being a silly drunk, mentions of being afraid of someone taking advantage of someone under the influence but ofc no! actual any misconduct -- a SITCH wedding!!! so cute ::))

Harry Styles was a romantic.

He loved love songs that professed their undying love for their significant other. He loved romance movies, rom coms especially, because they were happy and in love and he got to cry and laugh all in one. He loved writing his own songs about love and he loved spreading the idea of loving and treating others with kindness. He loved first dates and the relationships that sometimes sprouted out of them. He loved reading books about love and how to make it last. He loved poetry that waxed eloquent about love. He loved love.

He hated weddings.

Well, he hadn’t always hated weddings. In the beginning, they were like every other aspect of love, he loved them. But slowly, as he kept receiving announcements of engagement and wedding invitations and he kept not sending out letters of his own, his aversion grew.

Sure, he still loved going. He still wept for the happy couples when they committed themselves to each other. He still clapped profusely and danced to the dj or live band. He still tried to enjoy it. But with weddings he had a nagging sense in the back of his head reminding him that he still hadn’t found it yet. Each of his relationships had fallen short in some way as to not lead him to this destination. So when he sat at his assigned table at these various gatherings, he held a bit of apprehension, a bit of envy, about everything going on. He knew that his smiles were all a little forced and his laugh not quite genuine. His thoughts always managed to be controlled by his green-eyed monster that he always attempted to keep locked away. But at weddings, especially when the alcohol started flowing, he had a harder time controlling it.

Seeing all his friends getting together, getting married, and having children wore on him. Wore him thin more than he ever let on to anyone but his therapist. And his therapist couldn’t seem to give him a better answer than to be patient and not give up hope.

By 2021, Harry had decided that maybe he was just meant to be alone. Love was something he could admire, but it wasn’t meant for him. He could chase it, but it would never let him have it. He was unlucky in love and by Sarah and Mitch’s wedding in the Spring, he had come to terms with it.

He had even been optimistic for it, being Mitch’s Best Man and all had gotten his hopelessly romantic heart all aflutter. He was introduced to Sarah’s Maid of Honor, Renee Williams and she had been lovely. She was 31, a little older than Harry - but age wasn’t something that deterred him, and she had worked with Sarah in Los Angeles before Harry recruited Sarah for the band. They were best of friends and Sarah had known for a long time that Renee would be her Maid of Honor.

When Harry met Renee, he was sure that she was meant to be his person. She was beautiful and hilarious, her beauty mark at the side of her lip was so utterly unique he called her a “right Marilyn”. She insisted she was not a Marilyn Monroe type at all and had laughed. Harry had charmed her with his expert flirting and claimed that just because she was a brunette didn’t mean she was a Marilyn. She had smiled and bantered through the rehearsal dinner with him at her side. He was entranced, it had to be Renee, he had been so sure of it.

When Renee had walked down the aisle just before Sarah, Harry had been sure of it. When Renee had smiled at Harry as Mitch slipped on Sarah’s wedding band, Harry had been sure of it. When he had hooked his arm around hers as they walked down the aisle and into a foyer, Harry had been sure of it. When she laughed at his jokes while they waited for their wedding party photos to be taken, Harry had been sure of it.

When Renee walked up to Harry at the reception with another man wrapped around her, Harry wasn’t so sure of it anymore.

“Harry, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Corey,” Renee smiles giddily between the two men.

Harry’s eyes widen slightly at the word ‘boyfriend’ and he swallows harshly before blinking and putting on a sweet smile. He thrusts his right hand out for Corey to shake.

“Hullo, mate,” Harry says happily.

Corey greets Harry, extending his hand to meet Harry’s with a warm smile and a “how are you”. Harry laughs boisterously and takes a sip of his champagne flute. They shake hands with a firm up and down motion.

“Planning on getting really drunk,” Harry says in response to Corey’s question. “Have a great night, you two,” he finishes and stalks off for a refill.

Renee watches him go with a little bit of a confused look on her face. She sees him tilt his head back and finish his drink before turning to face her boyfriend and peck his cheek. She mumbles to him, “He’s a really nice guy, wouldn’t stop chatting my ear off the past few days. All these people must make him antsy.”

He nods back to her, “They must.”

Harry sidles up to the open bar, discarding his empty flute and exchanging it for a much stronger drink.

“Tequila. Neat...Please.” He sighs and runs a hand through his curls that are slowly becoming less and less coiffed. His fingers slide to the collar of his shirt and tug, attempting to loosen it a little.

“Rough night already?” Someone asks from beside him.

His face turns to them and sees a smiling brunette. Her eyes are big, larger than most eyes he’s come across. They’re brown with tinges of gold and green, likely making them hazel by her standard since most people prefer saying hazel eyes to brown. Her smile is bright and clean and if Harry hadn’t already heard her speak he would assume she was American from that smile. It was perfect, too perfect - the teeth both straight and blindingly white.

He raises his eyebrows at her and thinks about his response. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving them parted, but he remains silent when the bartender hands him his tequila. Harry wraps a specifically less ringed hand tonight, he had forgone his ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings as well as the rest of them actually on his left hand. His right hand still had two: the large flashing lavender gemstone encrusted in a gold casing from Stevie Nicks on his middle finger and then a clean gold signet ring with little crosses on the sides on the adjacent ring finger. Every other finger was noticeably empty. So when he picks up the glass there is no familiar clink which draws the attention of himself.

The woman doesn’t pay any attention to his hand, she’s still waiting for him to respond to her question, as well as waiting for her other drink to be made. She was taking advantage of the two drink system and getting two for herself right now, so she didn’t have to come back until much later.

“You have no idea,” is how Harry decides to respond and then turns to leave. He forgets about the woman and sits at his assigned table for his entire drink, talking casually with the people who come to speak with him.

When he's finished, he goes back to the bar to order a second tequila. He thinks about the girl who had stared at him with her big brown eyes. How she had seen him and thought to ask how his night was when it seemed to be going to shit. And how he had blown her off with barely a glance. God, he could be such a prick. After he receives his drink, he forgets yet again and continues to drown his sorrows in the golden liquid that helps him numb the pain that he had once again missed out on his fairytale love story.

The girl Harry had run into sat in the corner of the ballroom for the majority of the night. She settled on just having that first round of drinks for herself and one glass of obligatory champagne during the toasts. Other than that, she had promised herself she wouldn’t get drunk and go off with a random stranger. This was not a wedding for that. This wedding couldn’t be for that. She just needed to keep her head low and try to have a semi-pleasant time.

When she was nursing her champagne through the toasts, the man at the bar caught her eye again. She knew who he was. He was the Best Man after all. Sarah talked about him a lot, even Renee after the past few days, but seeing him at the bar had been the first time she’d ever seen him up that close. It was strange, he was so human. So tangible in that moment. His shoulders shook with each breath he took. His fingers tapped as they waited for his drink. His green eyes blinked and darted around as he took in his surroundings and even looked at her. He simply was and it had startled her to see him in a slightly bewildered state at the bar, but again, she wasn’t one to judge.

Get through the wedding. Try to have a semi-pleasant time.

It was time for the Best Man’s speech. Renee had just given the Maid of Honor’s and now Harry was up. He stood up and wavered a little as he tried to stand up straight. The neat tequila likely makes his stance a little harder to maintain. Mitch looks up at Harry at his side and smiles fondly.

Harry raises one hand in an awkward wave while the other is planted firmly on the table.

“Hullo,” he starts, “I’m Harry and I’m the Best Man, but I’m sure you knew that already.”

The entire group of guests laugh wholeheartedly, taken by the talented young man.

“To start,” he stutters, his words slurring slightly from the alcohol he’s had, and his smile slithers into a smirk. “Let’s hear it for the bride and groom, the lovely Sarah and Mitch Jones!”

Queue the laughter again. Harry laughs too when Mitch slaps his arm playfully, he turns to look at him with a mock ‘what did I do wrong’ expression.

“I had a speech written out, took a week to write, made it nice and poetic for these two lovebirds, but it seems I’ve misplaced it,” he pats at his pockets and sighs before rubbing his forefinger at his bottom lip. “I hate weddings.”

Everyone laughs again, thinking he’s joking. Harry grimaces but it passes as a smile even though she can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes.

He rambles on for a few minutes about love and commitment, how this is just the beginning for Sarah and Mitch and everyone laughs at the appropriate times and just when he’s wrapping up, successfully stumbling through his messy mind, everyone begins to clap.

“To the happy couple…” queue applause, but she sees him say something else, it’s drowned out by the crowd cheering and clinking glasses again.

He sits back down, downing his champagne glass that’s been refilled twice already during the speeches. Mitch leans over and whispers something in Harry’s ear as he twists a hand through his hair. Harry shifts away from Mitch and gives him a look, telling Mitch that he’s fine.

The party goes on, a few more speeches, a few more glasses of champagne for Harry, a few more sighs from the girl in the back of the room.

She watches the first dance of Mitch and Sarah but once that part is over she slinks off. She’s got half a drink left and all she wants is to be alone. Tired of the party, tired of the people, tired of having to try to have a good time. The Rowland-Jones Party had rented the entire place out, so she wanders out of the main room and down a hallway until the music is a faint buzz in her ear. The air grows colder as the amount of people dwindles from over a hundred to one.

There’s a door to her right that has an intricate golden handle that she pulls down on. It opens quietly onto a similar ballroom that is slightly smaller than the one the party was going on in. It’s quiet and spacious, her steps echo as she enters on heeled feet. The clicking of her satin stilettos resonate against the linoleum. She walks to the center of the room and turns around herself, lifting her head to the light in the room. An ornate chandelier is still above her, it’s the same gold as the handle that let her in. Her eyes travel to the walls that contain swirls of gold as well, everything was encrusted in gold and splotchy vintage mirrors. It was beautiful and she saw herself in the reflection of one of those splotchy vintage mirrors and actually felt beautiful in that moment.

No one else saw her but herself and she thought she was beautiful, a fleeting thought as she watched her body move. No one to watch as her reflection swayed with her. Her lavender dress swished back and forth, the end of it brushing around her ankles. The tulle fabric climbed her torso, cinching at her waist and draping over her breasts. The sleeves fluttered over her shoulders and ended midway down her upper arm. The somewhat sheer material made her tan skin look all the more carmely in the golden light of the chandelier. Her pendant necklace was silver and glinted in the light as it sat evenly over her exposed clavicle and decolletage.

In the corner opposite of the door there was a single table with three chairs. It seemed whoever was meant to put things away had grown tired and left these out. She wasn’t complaining as she crossed the floor to take a seat. It was the perfect escape. It was quiet and not too cold in the room, which was especially nice since she had left her jacket in the coat room. What wasn’t so nice is that her phone had died and she had nothing to do in the room. It wasn’t horrible though, she had wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She just feared what would happen if she sat alone too long with no escape of the internet to drown those thoughts.

That contemplation was squashed with an unwitting solution not ten minutes later. She had been sitting at the table, sipping her drink occasionally and staring at the chandelier. Sighing with content that it was finally silent beside the clink of her melting ice cubes. The house mixed drink was strong, but with each passing second it grew more and more diluted. She considered herself completely sober.

She only questioned that when she noticed a second person in the room. She hadn’t heard them open the door, but she heard their loud footsteps shortly after.

He all but stumbled in and was entranced by the chandelier like she had been. He walks to the center in a similar fashion and twists around, only this time his balance isn’t as good as hers. He ends up on his ass, legs splayed in front of him and hands behind him only cushioning his fall a little. He lets out a huff, “Fuck.” He runs a hand over his face before bringing it down to look around the room again. His eyes are foggy with alcohol, everything hazy and slightly blurry. It feels like he’s moving with superspeed but as she watches him with a tilted head she wonders why he’s moving so slowly.

He squints while looking around after a moment, running a hand through his thoroughly tousled hair. His tongue comes to wet his lips, but this time it's for a touch too long like he’s genuinely tasting the liquor on them. She raises her brows, observing him, her presence seemingly unknown.

“Oi, you!” He slurs the words and points lazily at her reclined in her chair. “Are you real?”

She half smiles and replies with a simple ‘yes’.

“I like your dress,” he says merely like he was stating a fact rather than giving a compliment. His hair falling into his eyes again despite him just pushing it back.

“Thanks.”

He makes his way to standing, his process rather ungraceful. He twists onto his hands and knees and begins to push himself up. He slips once before making it to full standing, he sways slightly and looks around again like he’s forgotten why he stood up. His eyes land on her again and he decides to make his way over to the table.

“You should probably sit,” she says, watching him splay his arms around him to keep his balance. She had seen him an hour and a half ago and he seemed fine, but now he seemed absolutely and utterly pissed.

“Thanks, mum,” he says as he thunks into the seat beside her, his hand waving off her suggestion.

Her brows raise at the slightly rude comment, but she leans back in her seat still observing him.

“Why do you hate weddings?” She asks once he’s settled and has his head propped up with one of his hands. She takes a sip of her drink as she watches him scan her face again, trying to see if he recognizes her.

His mind must come up empty, a vague memory of the bar slipping away without a second thought.

“It was a joke,” he shrugs.

“No it wasn’t,” she replies easily.

His eyes narrow and he leans forward a little shakily, “Who are you?”

“Aurora.” She licks at her own lips, a stray bit of liquid lingering on her lips.

“That’s a Disney princess name,” he says, unconvinced, how most drunk people were when you told them the truth.

“And my great-grandmother’s and mine,” she responds, a grin playing on her lips as she watches him think it over. “It’s wild how multiple people can have the same name. Did you know people can share a last name as well?”

He leans back in his chair now, unhappy with her snarky response.

“Isn’t that why we’re here, two people joining together and sharing the same last name now?” He threads his fingers as he speaks, mimicking something coming together.

“Yep,” She perks at the question he poses. “You still didn’t answer my question.” Her brows raise once playfully.

“What?” Harry seemed to have lost the plot, his fuzzy drunken brain choosing to forget the first thing she asked him while in this private ballroom of theirs.

“Why do you hate weddings?” She repeats, louder and with emphasis, the words echoing this time.

“Oh,” he looks up to the ceiling and blows air past his lips harshly, “S’ a long story.”

“We got all night,” she offers, and raises her glass to her lips once again.

“A night wouldn’t even cover half of it,” he ponders seriously, his mind reeling. “I’d rather talk about you.”

“Why me?” She laughs like she’s just received the most delightful surprise.

“Because,” He starts and then sits quiet for a moment before leaning forward, elbows on the table as he peers at her, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“You only just met me,” she responds. “Not to mention, you’re drunk as fuck, Best Man. Just minutes ago I watched you stumble in here and truly fall on your ass.”

“Then tell me about yourself and I’ll explain my hatred for weddings.”

“You’re awfully good at bargaining for being this inebriated.”

“I never lose my charm, no matter how pissed I may be,” he smirks and gives a sloppy wink, hair falling in his face yet again.

She scoffs, but she is rather amused and intrigued by the man beside her. His tie now completely loosened, hair falling every which way, and his green eyes set on her. The shiny shoes he wore slipped around on the ground as he shuffled his feet below him like a child wanting to go play. She figured it was just his drunk brain trying to amuse himself or something. How could she deny a man who had just drunkenly confessed his love for her at a wedding? Even if it was completely and totally untrue. She at least had to entertain the foolish notion that maybe he actually was interested in getting to know her. If anything, it would help pass the time until she could go home.

“I’ll bite,” she relents.

The smirk doesn’t leave his face, it only widens, “Only if I can, too.”

“I wasn’t saying-”

“Shush, sh-sh-shush. I know that,” he holds a hand up at her, trying to get her to be quiet. He sways again, even in his seat he looks as if he could fall over at any moment. She wondered if he might not remember this tomorrow. “I was bein’...” he licks his lips in a pause, “suggestive.”

She laughs again, knowing his sober brain probably would have chosen a more articulate and suave word since ‘suggestive’ was rather tactless and more straight to the point. If she learned anything from all the conversations she overhead about him, Harry was definitely one for tact.

“You were something, that’s for sure,” she wraps a hand around Harry’s wrist, she draws the hand down from its hovering state and lays it against the table again. She withdraws her own hand back to her glass, her drink almost completely gone now.

He smiles, pleased with himself, but unaware that his charms had worn off with his exorbitant amount of alcohol consumed. At least on this girl they weren’t working. She had never been attracted to people who were too drunk to help themselves and she always hoped that’s how others felt too. She was thankful he had stumbled in on her rather than someone who didn’t feel the same way. It made her sick to think of what someone with evil intentions might do if they came across a babbling drunken version of Harry. Pushing those thoughts away since that wasn’t the case, she decided to pat his hand once just in reassurance to herself and him that this was really happening.

“I’m twenty-five.” She states.

Harry nods, a small smile on his lips now rather than a smirk as he watches her again. He liked how smoothly she moved rather than the rest of the world in his drunken eyes, everything else was choppy and fast. She was elegant and fluid, calming even.

“I love love,” Harry says, eyes remaining on hers, no trace of a joke in his tone, “And it hates me.”

“That can’t be true,” she squints at him, a frown gracing her face for a moment at the sadness she sees in his watery eyes. Not crying watery, just watery from his drunken state.

He says nothing, waiting for her to offer more information about herself before he says anything else. This was the deal after all. She quickly realizes why he isn’t responding and sighs, conversation with drunks was tedious already, but Harry seemed determined to make it even harder.

“I’m from California.”

“They always are,” Harry mutters to himself. He ignores her hum of a question, asking what he just said with a simple sound. “All my friends, they’re either getting married or they’re already married and got kids on the way or whatever. They all found love and I’m just here with fuck all.”

She sincerely doubts what the drunken man is telling her right now, but she knows how to play the game now to get more information. “I hate my job,” she states.

“Sometimes I feel like I'm cursed, like I fucked up one too many times and now I’m doomed to never find love.”

Her eyes widen at this, he sounds so damn sad and she wishes she could take his pain away. She knew what a good guy and she couldn’t imagine why he would deserve to feel this way. No one deserved to feel like they weren’t worthy of love. His sad state truly almost brought her to tears. She’s there in a stunned silence and Harry is confused why she hasn’t said anything more about herself. It was her turn.

“What’s something else about you?” He asks, his hand fiddling with itself on the table. She notices once again that there aren’t as many rings on his fingers as what she thought was usual.

She licks her lips and reaches her hand forward. She grasps Harry’s fiddling hand and stops his movement. “I feel sorry that you feel this way, no one deserves the kind of pain you’re inflicting on yourself. I’m very very sorry for you, Harry.”

“That’s not really…” He trails off, losing his focus on her face and instead looking at their hands touching. The feeling is so intense in his buzzing body. Her touch was so calming compared to the electric feeling in his body. It felt nice.

“Can I ask you a different question and then I’ll tell you something no one knows about me?”

He nods eagerly.

“And you can’t dodge the question, you really have to answer it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What did you say at the end of your speech? It got drowned out by applause, but I saw you say something.”

“You noticed?” He asks kind of surprised, then scratches at his eyebrow. He sees her slight glare and knows to get to his answer. “Asked when it’d be my turn…like to fall in love, y’know.”

She sighs, saddened yet again by his words. “Okay, well, here’s my secret... I hate weddings, too.”

Harry’s eyes light up, maybe he really was in love. She purses her lips and pulls back from him.

“I think you’re my soulmate,” he breathes out, again making a false confession. His drunken brain wants it to be true. He’s desperate for his search to be over, for her to be his person.

She smiles that same sad smile that she keeps getting when he says these sad things to her.

“I assure you, I am not, Best Man.”

He looks at her confusedly. She was beautiful, she was clarity to him. Her brown hair was straight with a little wave in it, like it was straightened for the occasion but never truly that way otherwise. It flowed around her head and shoulders, but she had it tucked behind both ears. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, she just simply was beautiful. Her sun tanned skin looked soft under the golden glow and Harry was sure she was an angel or something.

“Why not?” He insists, leaning forward.

She stands up from her seat. He follows clumsily behind her, standing as well. He was still taller than her even in her high heels. He smiled like a lovesick child down at her, his eyes as big as the moon. She bites at her lip as she sees him look at her so lovingly, so misguidedly. Then she leans up towards his face, up on her tiptoes and past his lips. Her hands hold him straight with them curled in his suit’s lapels. She presses a sweet and gentle kiss to his cheek, closer to his jaw than anything.

“Good night, Harry,” she whispers against his skin before pulling away.

His eyes flutter open, his looks at her confusedly, slightly unaware that he had closed his eyes at all.

“Good night…” He had already forgotten her name, something with an A...or was it an O? He’d have to ask Sarah and Mitch about the girl who had talked to him in the empty golden ballroom, the girl he had fallen in love with. He was certain. She was the one - if only he could find out her name. If he remembered this at all or if he just thought it was a dream.

She leaves the room before him and as she leaves she wonders if she maybe should have made sure he was alright, but she figured their talk was sobering enough. The night was ending and she had a sneaking suspicion that there were plenty of people here tonight looking out for him.

Harry forgot about the girl in the ballroom. Or at least he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or reality. He had woken up at Tom’s place where he had said he would stay after the wedding reception so he hadn’t gone home with a girl. He couldn’t remember her name so he couldn’t really ask anyone about her and he didn’t exactly have a lot of people he could ask. He wanted to ask Sarah and Mitch, but they were already off on their honeymoon and he was one of those people who would never bother a couple on their honeymoon. He was too embarrassed to ask Renee and anyone else for that matter.

So, instead, he forgot. Harry forgot about her for three weeks until Sarah and Mitch returned. He had called them for a hike and lunch the moment their plane had landed. He had missed some of his best friends. It was a lull in the year, where he wasn’t touring or in the studio, just living and writing when he felt like it. So maybe he was in need of some inspiration.

“Ah! The Jones’!” He exclaims as he walks up to their parked car at the head of the trail.

Sarah laughs and Mitch rolls his eyes, half-heartedly since he’s just as happy to see Harry as Harry is to see him.

“I missed you,” Mitch says as he brings Harry in for a hug.

“Don’t let the missus hear that,” Harry tuts while he sends a wink over Mitch’s shoulder to Sarah.

“It’s all he could talk about for the past few weeks,” Sarah jokes as she goes in for a hug with Harry. “How do you think Harry is? Hope he’s eating? I miss Harry.” She mimics Mitch’s voice.

Mitch shakes his head shyly, a smile spreading on his face after a moment. “That. Is not true at all,” he assures Harry, “But you do look a little thinner. What have you been eating?”

Harry elbows him with a grin, “I’m fine. Been bored so I’ve just been filling the time with working out.”

They start their ascent up the hill and into the canyon. Mitch nods, his worry for his friend subsiding momentarily before he says something strange.

“I’ve been wanting to ask, but you’ve been gone, about a girl at the wedding.”

“Oh?” Sarah gives Mitch a knowing look.

“Yeah, well the thing is, I’m not sure if she was real or not. I think she was real, but I was so drunk, there’s so many bits missing in my memory.”

Sarah and Mitch both laugh. “You were very drunk, H,” Mitch confirms.

Harry ignores him, “I even asked her if she was real and she said yes, but y’know people can lie in dreams. All I remember is she was amazing and she had a princess name, I think.”

Sarah thinks about the guest list. “No princess names that I can think of. What did she look like?”

Harry squints ahead of them, his sunglasses pushing his curls back on the top of his head. “She had straight brown hair, not long or short. She said she was, uh, twenty-five. She was in lavender, I think.”

“You think a lot,” Mitch interjects which earns him a glare from Harry.

Harry thinks about this part that he remembered vividly, how she had been so confident that he wasn’t. He adds, “...And I told her I was in love with her.”

“Oh god, Harry,” Sarah sighs.

Mitch gives Harry an apologetic smile.

“She didn’t buy it, but she didn’t run off either. We talked for awhile.”

“Maybe it was a dream,” Sarah says.

“Okay, let’s see,” Mitch grows to be the leader of the investigation, wanting everything for his best friend to find the love he knew he deserved. “Twenty-five year old brunettes at our wedding who are single. C’mon there weren't that many people there.”

Sarah thinks about it again. “Renee’s sister is twenty-five. I don’t remember what she was wearing, I hardly saw her all night,” she pauses, “Which is strange since she wasn’t on the job for once.”

“What do you mean ‘on the job’?” Harry asks curiously, remembering his girl saying she hated her job.”

“She’s a wedding planner,” Sarah says, glancing at him because she was almost sure that Renee’s sister was not who Harry was talking about. “But she had referred me to someone else for the wedding, she consulted sometimes and got us a discount, but said she didn’t like working with people she knew personally.”

Harry nodded, how could Renee’s sister be his girl? How could a wedding planner hate weddings? And wouldn’t it be all the more awkward if the girl was Renee’s sister? Renee’s little sister, could it be? He had no clue.

“I don’t think it’s her, though,” Sarah gives a half-smile, “She’s not super...uh, how do I say this?”

As Sarah says “touchy-feely,” Mitch interjects.

“She’s pretty cold-hearted. She’s relatively nice, but what makes her such a good wedding planner is she doesn’t get caught up in the sentimentality of it, she just understands other people’s emotions and knows how to make them feel amazing.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Sarah looks at Mitch with a strong glare. After all, he was talking about her best friend’s little sister.

“Well, what’s her name?” Harry insists, semi-off put, but knowing her secret made him think it was possible for Renee’s sister and his ballroom girl to be the very same.

“Rori Williams, think it’s short for something else, but I don’t know, as long as I’ve known her she goes by Rori.” Sarah gives Harry a sad smile and it reminds him of his mystery girl.

“Do you think I could meet her or something? I just want to know if it’s her.” Harry says as they reach the first peak on their hike. He looks out at the view from there, Los Angeles was green for once, but he knew it would quickly fade to brown and tan as the spring plants died off again from the summer heat.

“Pretty sure she’s off working on some destination wedding right now. She doesn’t like being bothered when she’s working,” Sarah gives Harry a look for two reasons as she says that. One, because she knows his next question would be to contact her anyway. And two, she’s saying how he is exactly the same, hates being contacted when he’s busy with work. “I can text Renee to see what’s up.”

Harry nods, “Please…” He begins to imagine Rori as his ballroom girl and mutters to himself, “A June Wedding…” getting lost in a silly little daydream.

“Harry Styles is asking after you,” Renee snickers over the cellphone line.

“What is this? The 1800s?” Rori sighs, as she holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder. She tries to brush her hair from her face with a flick of her head, which makes for a rather silly sight as her head and shoulder move awkwardly. “People don’t ‘ask after’ anyone anymore.”

She was in Hawaii, Maui specifically, steaming a sneaky last crinkle out of the latest bride’s wedding veil.

“Well, he still is doing it. You know how he is.”

“I actually don’t,” Rori responds, easily, ignoring the memories of her two encounters with him. “What does he want?”

“Wants to meet you or something,” Renee says easily. “Thinks he met you at Sarah’s wedding, obviously impossible since I know you scampered off half way through the reception and he was falling down drunk at the half way marker as well…” she trails off.

Rori knows her sister well and expects the next thing to come out of Renee’s mouth.

“Oh my god! Did you hook up with him?!”

Expecting this, Rori responds quickly and calmly, “No, we did not hook up, I would never... I did watch him fall on his ass, though.”

“So it was you!”

“What was me?” Rori squints her eyes at her sister over the phone and finally straightens from her steaming task. She feels like she’s only half paying attention to the conversation, especially since she had no intention of meeting up with Harry. He had been so sweet and sad, and she truly wished him the best, but she knew she wasn’t the answer to his problem.

“You!” Renee all but yells into the phone, “Are his dream girl! He’s been wondering if you were even real for weeks.”

“I’m real,” Rori sighs and crosses the room she’s in to sit at the desk she was using as a work space. She flicks through the planner she was using for the Hearst wedding, set to take place tomorrow. “But I’m certainly not his dream girl...I told him that when he said he was in love with me.”

“He what?!” Renee exclaims and hears her sister sigh once again, she knows Rori is growing tired of the conversation and is ready to offer an excuse to hang up any moment now. “Nevermind that, I’m going to tell Sarah to give him your number and the date you get back to Los Angeles. Keep next weekend clear.”

Before Rori can open her strawberry pink lips to reply, Renee is squealing a goodbye and hanging up. She felt her shoulders sag with the empty line, she reclined into the nicely plush swivel chair. This is why she stayed out of love and relationships when they didn’t relate to work, they were exhausting. Too much ‘he said, she said’ going on at all times. Color palettes, seating arrangements and menus were simple, they made sense, they could be arranged and put into place. Relationships were messy, the actual event of a wedding could even be messy, but when she planned them out, for a single moment everything was orderly and simple. She was in control. She knew she couldn’t be Harry’s dream girl because she knew she couldn’t control that situation.

Upon arriving back in the continental United States, at the end of June, Rori ubered immediately to her apartment in Silverlake. Well, it was a converted garage behind a house of a friend of Renee’s. Like most apartments in Los Angeles, it was funky, but it was Rori’s until she decided where she wanted to move. She never wanted to buy in LA and she never wanted to upgrade from the place she had called home for the past four years.

Almost immediately after dropping her pink work tote bag and worn backpack on the floor next to her medium sized navy suitcase, her phone rang through the ‘Do Not Disturb’ setting with an unknown number. A New York number. Possibly a new client, she picks up quickly and shuts the window-paned door behind her. The days were long, the longest day of the year had almost arrived, yet the sun was still beginning to set in the sky and turn the light blue into a painting of oranges pinks and purples.

“Hello?”

“Is Rori Williams there?” A British voice asks, almost timidly.

“Who’s asking?”

“...Harry.”

“I was told you’d be calling or something along those lines,” she smiles to herself.

Harry sat in his room, chewing at his lip, still unsure if the voice on the other side of the phone call was the woman he had talked to previously.

“Can we go for a drink sometime? How’s tomorrow?”

“Someone is quite enthusiastic.”

“It’s just...I’m trying to figure something out.”

“So I’ve heard,” she chuckles slightly.

“So you won’t tell me whether you’re the girl I talked to at Sarah and Mitch’s wedding will you?”

“What would be the fun in that?”

“So it’s a right Cinderella, if the shoe fits situation,” he mumbles, slightly to himself, but she hears him clearly.

She laughs.

“I don’t really care for Cinderella, I’m not really one for Disney princesses at all, actually.”

His breath catches, a foggy memory of something having to do with princesses tries to break into his mind. He couldn’t remember still and he vowed time and time again that he would never get that drunk again. Too much time lost.

“Alright, Harry. I’ve just gotten home from a work trip so I’m planning on a bath, some wine, and some terribly raunchy TV to get my mind off of my life. How about you pick a time and a place for drinks and hopefully I will show up? Great! Goodnight.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, just clicks the red button that hangs up the phone and goes on with her professed plans. Harry sits in stunned silence for a few moments, whatever he had gotten himself into was going to be a ride of a lifetime.

At a quarter past six, Harry sits anxiously at the bar top of a semi casual, semi fancy, totally cool bar he loved. It was private so he wouldn’t be bombarded with people, but it was still lively enough that it wouldn’t be dead silent if conversation lulled between him and Rori. That is, if she showed up.

His foot begins to tap, ever so persistently against the silver footrest at the bottom of the bar. His eyes shift from right to left, not wanting to order a drink before she arrives, but also not wanting to wait much longer and not order a drink. He’d waived off the bartender twice already.

She walks in, right on time, Harry had just arrived early. Her lips part into a happy smile at his anxious stance at the bar, he mirrors her expression at the sight of her.

She’s wearing a billowy white button down, the sleeves cinching perfectly at her petite wrists, cinched beneath a brown corset-like tank top. Her breasts showed their true size today in this outfit. She had the collar pulled out and the corset made it so that her cleavage was perfectly sculpted just beneath the crisp white cloth. Her pants were sleek and black, understated to draw more of a focus to her top as well as the lavender jewel inlaid pendant hanging just above the swells of her breast. Harry’s eyes dipped to that level for a moment, but quickly recovered to focus on her face. The night of the wedding had been blurry, but he was sure Rori’s face was the one of his mystery girl.

He’s shy tonight and a little more reserved than last time. He’s out of his comfortable bubble, what could anyone expect from a man so constantly watched. He fidgets with the top most button of his shirt that was buttoned and thinks about unbuttoning it to reveal a little more of his chest, but he refrains. At a friend’s wedding he feels safe, but in public he’s always watching, always aware of the possible prying eye. But like he had said drunkenly to Rori, he always maintained his charm, no matter the circumstances.

“Lavender was gorgeous on you, but this…” he gives a graceful sweep of his hand to gesture at her outfit tonight, “is extremely enchanting.”

“So you remember me in lavender? I thought you couldn’t remember me at all.” She grins as she stands directly beside him, similar to the first time they had chatted at a bartop.

Harry clears his throat at her tease, “I knew once I laid eyes on you, I would know. So now I know.”

She smirks at his reasoning and orders a vodka cranberry, both not wanting to get off her ass or look any certain way. Vodka cranberries were acceptable mature drinks, but not overly pretentious in any way. Harry tells the bartender to make it two. She looks at him with a discerning eye.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” She asks as she slides into the bar seat that seems to be trying to look vintage but was likely made no less than five years ago.

Harry sits too, more easily since his legs are longer than hers. “We met in the ballroom for the first time, did we not?”

“No...we met at the bar in the reception room.” Her hand splays to feel the stone of this counter, cold unlike the wood of the previous one. “We were about this close after you’d rudely stepped ahead of me and ordered before I could...not that you noticed. I asked if you were having a rough night and you pretty much dismissed me.” She bites her lip as she tells him the story, her eyes widen as she watches the distress roll over his features at what she says.

“Oh god,” One of his hands reaches to grab her hand to emphasize his apology, “I’m so sorry, that’s so rude. I was having quite a rough night as you would eventually see.”

He stares at her face, trying to meet her eyes, but she’s glued to the sight of their hands intertwined. He was so smooth and it was making her melt, making the walls she had purposefully put up for this date weak. She had rules, especially for guys like Harry - not that there was anyone that compared to him in her life, but she had them and she knew she couldn’t just be swept off her feet by his sweet voice and gorgeous face that has the most puppy-dog look on it.

She knows she shouldn’t but the extra ice she had added to her personality melts away, her eyes going slightly moony as she watches him visibly relax again. “No worries, I enjoyed your company upon the second meeting, even if you didn’t even remember my name after it.”

“Well,” he finally catches her eye, “That’s where I have a bit of a bone to pick.”

“Oh?”

“You didn’t tell me your real name...gave me some fake name I can’t even remember, but it certainly wasn’t…” His eyes shift to her pendant again and he looks back at her brassy eyes in the bar’s lighting. “If your name is Rori Williams, why is your pendant an ‘A’?” He says slowly, another foggy memory trying to break the surface of his knowledge but still failing.

She finally feels in control of the situation, calm and assured of herself, which was maybe unfair since it seemed Harry really had a hard time remembering that night and she could really fuck with him if she wanted to, but she wouldn’t - couldn’t - with those earnest eyes looking at her.

“I told you my real name the first time we talked, Harry. It’s Aurora,” she retracts her hand from beneath his grasp and touches at the necklace, “I go by Rori both socially and professionally, but officially it’s Aurora and this had been my great-grandmother’s. I don’t go anywhere without it.”

“Almost as beautiful as its wearer,” he smirks, his gaze stuck on her face, attempting to convey something specific. She thinks she knows what he’s saying with his look.

“You’re quite the flirt,” she rolls her eyes playfully before specifically choosing to take a sip of her drink through the little straw the bartender had put in it. It draws Harry’s attention to her lips, and after a moment they were wet with a bit of excess vodka cranberry and Harry felt himself grow a little hot at the tips of his ears when her eyes meet with his. She had caught him staring, but he recovers easily.

“I remember telling you I never lose my charm, it’s true is it not?” Harry inquires, head leaning closer to her as he takes a sip of his own drink, making a show to lick his lips after removing them from the edge of the lowball glass.

Her laughter is loud but not overbearing, Harry thinks it’s the best laugh he’s ever heard even if she’s laughing at him. She’s true in that laugh, she’s not trying to make him fall for her with that laugh, it’s just her enjoying herself.

She responds with something sweet and the two begin the back and forth of a successful date. They both drink around three drinks as the night persists, but it’s enough for her to feel the burning pull inside the pit of her belly for Harry. His hands stay relatively to himself besides a few subtle touches at her hair and hands every so often, his feet are the ones to blame. At one point in the night, he hooks his loafer covered foot around her ankle and she is quick to lean into it, reciprocating the footsie with ease. Each brush of his leg against hers is electrifying, every nerve in her body was beginning to go crazy. She was buzzing in a way that she hadn’t when she had first encountered Harry. Tonight he was more suave, but with a tinge of timidness that made him irresistible.

Harry made sure he wouldn’t get drunk tonight, ordering only as much as Rori. He didn’t want to be the fool who couldn’t remember their time together, again. Plus, he didn’t want to forget any of their time together, he wanted to remember it all. Everything about her was amazing, the feeling he had about her, the nagging desire to meet her was for a reason, he was sure of it. If her voice was a melody, then she was the most beautiful love song he had ever heard.

At 11:30, he leans in close to Rori, his nose brushing at the hair tucked at her ear and asks her if she wants to leave. She looks at him confused, the warm feeling in her stomach falls because she thinks he wants to end the night.

“Oh,” she says dejected, she swore it was going well. “Right..That’s it.”

Harry’s brows crinkle at her sad face.

“No, love, I was saying,” he raises his brows, “Y’know.”

“Oh! Right! You just sounded so...I don’t know, serious.” She sinks in her seat, realizing her presumptions had been wrong.

“I was trying to be,” he twists his lips trying to find the word, as blush rises on his cheeks. “Seductive.”

The two of them are quickly realizing they can’t pretend with each other. Rori can’t keep up the harsh facade against love with him, he sees right through it. Harry can’t play his old tricks with her, she sees right through them.

She laughs again, “Well, it just sounded like you were bored. Sometimes your moves fall really flat.” She offers a sweet wink in consolation for his failed attempt at trying to really get her weak in the knees.

They were a lovesick mess together as they clambered off their bar seats and exit the bar that had gotten increasingly loud.

“So what’s next?” She asks on the warm summer night.

He steps closer and takes the liberty of fiddling with the strap of the corset she has on. His head is tilted down as he towers over her. “You know me Rori, I’m a hopeless romantic so I desperately want to take you out for dinner sometime and slow dance with you until the sun comes up, but,” his breath fans over her face now as he shifts impossibly closer, “I also want to grip your hair as I watch you writhing underneath me. Just tell me what you’d prefer and it’s all yours.”

Her breathing has become a slight pant as his words wash over her. His nose brushes over the ridge of hers and she takes the moment to put her hands on his shoulders and pull him onto her. They were in the alleyway beside the bar, away from prying eyes except a few people too drunk to recognize Harry's face that is all but hidden in Rori.

“Harry,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering shut as she makes the decision to cross them into the point of no return. She wants this too much. She hadn’t thought this would be how her night would go, thought she would brush him off and never see him again, but god, she needed his warm body everywhere. Needed him to touch every part of her.

“Rori,” he responds.

“I want the second one first,” she whispers, feeling a little too eager, but feeling Harry press excitedly against her reassures her.

His lips press a searing kiss to her and she makes a sound of happiness at the contact. Her hands fist at the fabric of his shirt as she presses her lips feverishly back onto his. Harry’s quick to grip at the back of her neck and the small of her back, keeping her tight to him as he licks into her mouth.

“Can still taste that last vodka cran,” he notes before kissing her again.

Their tongues rub against each other, sloppily but with a tenderness hidden there as well. She snorts at his words which makes him smile and they’re kissing is becoming more silly as they try to contain their laughter. He pulls away, finally giving up trying to maintain the kiss while they both laughed.

“Would you like to come back to mine?” Harry asks as he leans his forehead against hers.

Rori’s eyes flicker open and stare into his, the focus only on his eyes and the sprinkle of light freckles and beauty marks below them. She nods her head, making his move with it. They both smile, trying to contain their laughter once more.

She presses her lips against his once more for a small peck and then lowers her head into the crook of his neck. The skin warm and smooth against hers as she whispers happily to him.

“It’s your turn now, Harry,” Rori says blissfully.

She had been the answer to all his questions.

#to lovers fic challenge #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

(nearly) lost love ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “hi idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i’d love to read something where the reader ends up getting hurt somehow (maybe by an unsub) and is in the hospital and spencer is super worried about her and maybe confesses his feelings for her bc he thought he was gonna lose her?? idk just something super fluffy with a little angst if you’re up for it” 2890 words

a/n: im gon na be honest idk how to write angst so i just went where the story took me????

masterlist

Spencer was proudly stood in front of his geological profile in the Austin precinct when the frantic call was made over the comms.

“Agent down! I repeat, Agent down! We need a medic!”

It was Morgan’s booming voice, firm and commanding, and Spencer first felt relief knowing at least Morgan was safe. But fear follows, prickling through his entire body when, oh no, someone on his team has been injured.

Morgan kept his comm connected. Spencer could hear all the chaos on the other end – he picked up that JJ was counting bodies, there was at least four medics requested, and, the most gut-wrenching for Spencer, was listening to Morgan repeat variations of, “Stay with me Y/N. Don’t close your eyes – listen to me, baby, stay with me, Y/N!”

You. You were the agent down.

You, who, less than two hours ago, laughed at your own joke so hard you couldn’t get it out. You, who made plans with him to go shopping for Halloween decorations that weekend (which Spencer was way too excited about, by the way). You.

You, who Spencer recently realised he’s in love with.

Why does he feel like this is his fault? He knows, logically, it isn’t – the obvious reason is because Spencer wasn’t there (which, a little voice in the back of his head says well maybe if you were there this wouldn’t have happened…) and it’s likely that this is entirely the ubsub’s fault. He attacked and you were the unlucky target.

But the history of Spencer’s love life shows there is a definite risk to being associated with him.

Is this the world’s way of telling him he shouldn’t love you? He shouldn’t tell you he loves you?

Was the big speech Derek gave him, the month they spent building Spencer’s confidence up, all for nothing? Because Spencer’s cursed?

This isn’t about you, Spencer, he thinks, angry at himself. God, you’re hurt, injuries still unknown, and he’s floundering because he’s convinced himself he’s cursed.

“Reid? You there?”

It’s Morgan, still talking through the comm, and it knocks Spencer out of his head. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Y/N? Is it Y/N? Is she okay?”

Morgan’s voice is calm and collected, as always, “Hey, kid, chill. She’s with a medic on the way to the hospital. You wanna-“

“I’ll meet you there.”

Spencer dashes out of the room.

+++

When he arrives, Hotch and JJ are waiting for him at the entrance. JJ expected Spencer to be worried, a little agitated, but she didn’t expect him to look so dishevelled and distressed. His hair, usually so well-kempt, sticks up in all directions. He abandoned his jacket and satchel at the station, obviously in a rush, and now his shoelace is untied and it’s giving JJ anxiety.

“Reid,” Hotch greets.

“How-“

“She’s fine, she’s okay,” JJ immediately says. Spencer has always said JJ knows exactly how to soothe him. “A nasty knock to the head, but she’s been taken care of and she’s resting now.”

Spencer’s whole body sighs in relief.

He sounds fragile when he asks, “Can I see her?”

JJ gives a small, bittersweet smile, then gestures for Spencer to follow her. He stays close, basically standing on her heels, the entire way to your room, where Emily is leaving.

He struts straight in, acknowledging no one, intent on seeing you and seeing you only.

You lie there, lifeless. All he can hear is the haunting sound of the heart monitor, combined with your chest minimally moving up and down being the only signs you’re alive. You’ve lost all your usual colour – Spencer recalls JJ mumbling something about you losing a lot of blood – and the whole sight makes his stomach lurch.

He walks in, and walks right back out.

Everyone shares looks of bewilderment. He did a complete 180, hardly sparing you a glance, and ran straight into the hospital’s bathroom where the team hears the distinct sound of retching.

Derek sighs and follows him. Their gazes meet: Spencer’s head barely lifting from the toilet bowl, Derek shutting and locking the bathroom door with pitying eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer starts.

“Don’t apologise. How you feeling?”

He groans in response, leaning against the wall. He begs himself to not think about all the germs and diseases that are probably infesting his body as they speak – his heart stings too much in his chest for that.

Spencer swallows the stone in his throat, grimacing at the remnants of bile, “Seeing her like that..”

“I know.”

“I never thought I’d see her like that. I’ve never wanted to see her like that and-and.. I couldn’t be there to protect her and help her-“

“None of this is your fault, Reid. It’s not your fault, or her fault, or anyone’s fault except the guy that did this. And he’s dead. And she’ll be fine. Please,” Derek warns, “Don’t guilt yourself into mayhem. I know you, and I know her, and all she wants is for you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. If not, or if she finds out you’re beating yourself up over this, she’ll kill you, man. With her bare hands.”

Derek’s smirking at the end of his speech because he’s right and Spencer knows it too. And Spencer can’t refrain from grinning a little at the thought of you, just gaining consciousness, and leaping from your bed to smack some sense into him.

You’re incredible. Which both pains him and makes him fall for you harder.

When Spencer rises and starts swirling his mouth out with water, Derek gives him a firm pat on the shoulder and leaves, Spencer not far behind.

This time, he won’t run out of the room like a weakling. Because it’s you and you need him to be there for you.

It’s what you’d do for him. And before that thought can go any further, he’s taking a deep breath and opening the door.

You’re still resting, looking exactly the same as when he first saw you, and his stomach jumps into his throat again – it pains him to see you like this.

But Penelope is leaning over you, fingers brushing your hair back with the trademarked tenderness that is Penelope Garcia. You’ve always called her your Fairy Godmother, your guardian angel, the true love of your life.

Maybe you’d rather see her when you first wake up.

So he stays back, lingering by the entrance of the room, until Rossi nudges him and he stumbles to the top of your bed. Right by your face, your oh-so-gorgeous but bruised face, and Spencer stares.

He can’t explain how glad he is that you’re okay. You’re here, a little beaten up, but he knows that in a couple days, maximum a week, you’ll be back in the bullpen with your quirks and nudges and warmth that is so you and he’ll never let anything come near you again.

(He knows he can’t actually do that. You wouldn’t let him. But he still thinks it, because he loves you and he’ll do anything for you)

The team silently agrees that Spencer will be the one to stay with you. At least until you wake up.

(Why? You might ask. Because you drunkenly told the girls that you’re convinced the closest thing to heaven on Earth would be waking up and Spencer Reid being the first thing you see every day. Ever since, they’ve committed themselves to trying to set you two up)

Spencer sleeps next to your bed, cramped in the uncomfortable and tiny chair, until about seven am. Then he recites some books in his head, just to pass the time. Then Penelope calls.

“I’m on my way with baked goods, Doctor. Would you like me to pick something up for you and the sleeping beauty?”

Spencer goes to decline, before looking at you, “I think Y/N would appreciate a burger. Maybe two.”

Garcia hums down the line, “You know, she’s always been full of good ideas. I’ll buy too many burgers then be on my way. Kisses!” Then hangs up.

In the meantime, Spencer scrolls through your conversation on his phone. He’d never been one for texting, or technology (notoriously), but you always send him things you think he’d like – maybe an article (he’s read every single one you’ve sent, even the one about the monkey using a frog to masturbate), a picture of a cute dog (this one looks like you, spence!!!!!!), and anything else that catches your eye.

For example, a comprehensive list of way too many “why did the chicken cross the road?” jokes.

They’re your kryptonite. Even after you explained the joke to Spencer, in depth, he still doesn’t quite understand the appeal. But you love them.

So he reads them to you.

He knows you can’t hear him. Being asleep is obviously very different to being in a coma, where people have claimed to be able to hear the people around them, but it passes the time and eases him a little. Cause he also knows that if you were awake you’d be chortling away, happy as can be. And that’s how you should always be.

Happy.

Spencer hopes he makes you happy.

Damn, he loves you.

Damn.

He has to tell you he loves you.

It feels like this need, this obligation – if he doesn’t tell you when you wake up then when will he tell you? The next time you’re injured?

The thought sends him reeling.

No matter the outcome, you need to know. He needs to tell you.

“Why did the rooster cross the road?” He reads aloud, “To cockadoodle dooo something.”

He’s cheesing at his screen, at the audacity and stupidity of these jokes. But they’re sweet, just like you, and they take everyone prisoner when it comes to making people smile.

“That was a good one.” You heh.

Your voice is croaky after not being used in hours, but it’s still the same dreamy voice Spencer loves to hear.

You’re awake. And already smiling, which is one hell of a win in Spencer’s book.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“It’s morning?” You ask, moving your head slowly to see outside your window. “At least I got a full night’s sleep for once.”

“Should you really be joking in your condition?” Spencer teases, leaning to fluff your pillow when you wince.

You exhale deeply, “And what is my condition, exactly?”

“You look as sexy as ever, buttercup.”

Garcia’s grinning from the doorway, Derek the same from behind her, two bags of food in her hands.

You’re ecstatic when you say, “Penny!” Trying to hide the pain when she hugs you. You’re too happy to see her to turn down her love.

She dishes out the burgers and, as expected, you ask if there’s another in there for you. You chomp happily, despite the dull ache still present, chatting jovially with the three of them.

Penelope gets caught up in telling you about the most recent documentary she saw. When he notices, Derek nods towards the door, making Spencer furrow his eyebrows in confusion. What does he want?

Derek does it again and Spencer gets it. He lifts from his seat the same time Derek does, saying nothing until they’re out of the room and the door has shut behind them.

“I’m gonna make Penelope leave-“ Derek begins, and Spencer stutters.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

Derek chuckles at Spencer’s reaction, “Kid, everything’s fine. You just gotta tell her.”

Spencer doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t know what Derek’s referring to. He peeks through your door’s window, staring directly at you as you giggle at something Penelope says.

“Do I?” He ponders. “It could-“

“Nope. We’re not doing that “it could ruin everything” spiel. You’re an adult, she’s an adult, and adults don’t play around with feelings like this. Tell. Her.” Derek’s got both hands on Spencer’s shoulders, grip tightening and loosening sporadically as he talks. He looks like a football coach giving a pep talk before the big game, and Spencer feels invigorated.

“Alright.” Spencer nods once, “Let’s do this.”

“I will remove Penelope Garcia from the premises.”

They nod at eachother and move back into your room.

+++

When Penelope is pulled from your room by Derek, stumbling and muttering and stuttering, all you do is blink in confusion.

“What’s going on there?” You say, speaking out of the side of your mouth, as if you’re sharing a secret.

Spencer doesn’t answer. You turn to look at him, another question on your tongue, but the words die when you see his facial expression.

It’s so tender. So soft, and gentle, the littlest of smiles on his lips as his cheeks darken.

“If I tell you something really dramatic right now, do you think you could handle that?”

Your head tilts, brows furrowed, looking far too endearing with your bandaged head.

He clears his throat, “I just-just need to make sure it won’t overwhelm you.”

You don’t know what to expect, but you agree anyway. Is this why Derek and Penelope left?

“I vomited when I saw you in bed. In this bed. In hospital.” He begins.

“Oh, thanks, Spence,” You tease.

“No- no. Hear me out!” He gives a little laugh, hands coming up in defence. “I don’t have a script, and statistically, both men and women speak around sixteen-thousand words a day – I want these ones to be special. Because you’re special.”

You’re still visibly confused. You clasp your hands together in your lap, “I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

Having your full attention is terrifying and electrifying at the same time. Spencer wants you to know that.

“You make me feel things, you know.” He reveals, “Things I’ve only ever read about, fantasised about – you know… things.”

This is going terribly. For a man who’s read the dictionary more times than he cares to count (he does care to count – twenty two times), he is very much struggling to explain himself to you.

Deep breath. From the start.

“It’s alright, Spence,” You console, hand resting on his closed ones. “Take your time.”

He does. He takes a few more breaths. “I don’t know where to start so- so bear with me.”

“Always.”

Why do you have to make his heart race like that?

“What?”

Oh. He said that out loud.

Well. Might as well repeat it.

“I said,” Louder this time, “Why do you have to make my heart race like that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No. No- I like it. I like you, that’s what I’m trying to say. Maybe not like since Derek told me we’re not in high school, kid,” He lowers his voice to impersonate Derek, “But the l word is scary, especially when I don’t know how you’re gonna react. But whatever you say, however you react, we’ll be okay. I know we will. I just need you to know how you make me feel and how-how good I think I’d treat you, I guess.”

It feels like your silence goes on forever. Then you quietly ask, “And how do I make you feel, Spence?”

“Like I’ve never felt before. I meant it when I said you make me feel things I’ve only read about – you’re so easy to love, you know that? Infuriatingly so. And you’re so open – I think that’s what drew me in at first. You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but you heard I was asking around for someone to go with me to that convention and you said you were available if I wanted you and I… I had to practice how to ask you in the mirror for three days straight. Of course I want you, Y/N. I think I always have.”

His voice is timid when he asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Do you think you want me too?”

“Are you crazy?!” You cry out.

The volume makes Spencer jump. Then he registers what you said and slumps, rejection seeping in.

“Spencer-“ You say, exasperated, “You’re the most incredible person I know. I tell you all the time cause I mean it.” You give a short laugh, “How could you even think that I wouldn’t feel the exact same? I’m kind of obsessed with you, Spence.”

The shock on his face melts into pure joy. Is this really happening? You..

“I want you an embarrassing amount, Spencer Reid. I always have and I always will.”

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he leaps forward and smashes your lips together. It’s messy and a little clunky, teeth hitting together and mouths unable to stop grinning, but it’s perfect. Everything you could’ve asked for in your first kiss with Spencer.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

And he thinks the exact same of you.

He pulls back, heart racing and entire body burning, strong hands cradling your head. It doesn’t take a profiler to realise the two of you, foreheads leaning against eachother, are the happiest you’ve been in a long time.

“You taste like burger.” Spencer breathes, soft and low.

You giggle. “You taste like coffee and burger.”

His lips quirk, raising an eyebrow, “You like it?”

You hum, rubbing your nose against his, “I like it a whole lot. I like you a whole lot.”

Spencer kisses you again.

And again.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #i like this one! i think #does anyone else struggle infinitely with titling fics #i go with the randomest shit lol

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lovely-dr-imagines · 3 years

Text

Makoto, Leon, Nagito, and Byakuya with an S/O who is obsessed with playing with their hair:

✾ Hello my lovely! Thank you for the request! I’ll try my best on it! :D ✾

✾ Under the Cut! ✾

✾ ahem, just noticed I have no other happy icons for me other than the one holding the camera or the blushing mahiru... 0-0 oh well im lazy so qjiwshudf guess whos not gonna make new ones bc i like the ones i already made :D? Plus I think I have another happy one hidden somewhere in my camera roll ijdfhygf ✾

✾ Makoto Naegi:

✎ He didn’t notice it at first.

✎ Yeah I know, that’s stupid, but he really didn’t notice-

✎ That was until you started twirling his ahoge-

✎ His face blushed up and he turned around to see you, who looked surprised and taken aback- (AHOGES GUYS, THEY ARE SENSITIVE (opinion))

✎ “...”

✎ “Sorry...?”

✎ Overtime the Makoto became more comfortable to your little massages and hair playing.

✎ One time, you made a tiny braid from his hair like Kyoko’s!

✎ However, again, he doesn’t notice until he walks to go somewhere and someone points out his hair or if he can see his reflection-

✎ AND NEITHER DO YOU-

✎ Huh?

✎ Yeah you heard me correctly ya know-

✎ You’ll somehow go to him and started playing with his brown hair.

✎ Both of you become surprised-

✎ ANYWAYS-

✎ He really likes your scalp massages-

✎ Seriously, like any normal person, he loves it-

✎ It feels GOOD-

✎ One day, after your signature message of his scalp, his hair somehow grew-

✎ And he didn’t want to get a haircut-

✎ Because he knew you would like more hair to play with <3

✎ When the two of you cuddle or even something small like hugging, you twirl his hair around your finger if you can.

✎ He finds you playing with his hair calming and soothing.

✎ This egg fell asleep once when you were playing with his hair...

✎ And literally 10 minutes later, his head dropped to the right unexpectedly (you were watching TV) and your fingers got tangled-

✎ You have no idea why-

✎ But I guess he can get that haircut now-

✾ Kiyotaka Ishimaru:

✎ Unlike Makoto, this stiff man took notice immediately.

✎ “Y/N? What are you dong?”

✎ That sure startled you-

✎ You started prodding at your fingers, trying to think up an answer...

✎ “Do you find comfort playing with my hair?”

✎ Wow he got a bulls eye-

✎ Playing with hair is a common thing for people to do when nervous or anxious (i know from experience, but now that turned into playing with whatever is on my wrist at the moment-)

✎ “Y-yeah...” You answered weakly.

✎ “THAT’S ABSOLUTELY FINE Y/N! YOU CAN KEEP DOING SO IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER!”

✎ That’s your Taka <3

✎ Although his hair is short, it feels nice to scale your fingers across his hair back and forth, creating a nice sensation against your skin.

✎ Surprisingly, his hair, being naturally spiky, is actually pretty soft-

✎ He doesn’t mind whenever you touch his hair, he finds it pretty relaxing too.

✎ Your scalp massages?? He LOVES them. Seriously.

✎ You think being a hall monitor is EASY? Taka has to deal with bullies and delinquents skipping classes and argues with people who are even just a minute later for class...

✎ So you can imagine how much stress in on him.

✎ Maybe he’ll consider growing his hair out for you...

✎ Or maybe not...

✎ OH GOD THE THOUGHT OF TAKA WITH LONG HAIR KIND OF SCARES ME-

✎ WHY DID I THINK THIS UP I DONT LIKE THAT IDEA, LET ME PERISH THE THOUGHT-

✎ Nah, I think he likes his hair short, no?

✎ Yeah, just ruffling his short hair is good enough...

✎ Good enough for him to start developing a habit of playing with your hair when the two of you cuddle, hug, or are juts generally near each other.

✎ It doesn’t bother either of you-

✎ Any why would it?

✎ Both of you enjoy it so what’s the harm?

✎ If you are waiting for me to say the harm, there really isn’t any-

✾ Leon Kuwata:

✎ He probably played with your hair first.

✎ Then you did the same thing-

✎ Both of you guys couldn’t help it-

✎ Both of yous have the same thing-

✎ Leon probably plays with hair when he’s distressed or frustrated, like if he failed an assignment or couldn’t find the confidence to make a band for the first time so he can actually be related to music for the first time.

✎ You probably play with hair when you are nervous.

✎ When the two of you started dating, you sat next to each other and started talking about random stuff when Leon unconsciously started playing with your hair-

✎ That’s how you figured out he was like you-

✎ Ish?

✎ Idk-

✎ But he was nervous and/or frustrated at himself for being called a wuss before this little date.

✎ Now, both of you don’t mind playing with each other’s hair. Like Taka’s headcanons, whenever you and Leon cuddle, hug, or just in near proximity to each other, hair twirling and other doodads will commence-

✎ Scalp massages don’t really help Leon, but he enjoys them nonetheless. He’ll ask for them if he feels really down or stressed.

✎ He’ll also give YOU scalp massages if you want them. However, you obviously like playing with his hair better-

✎ Once, Leon jokingly said that he would cut his hair if he find one more tangle in his locks-

✎ You took it quite seriously though-

✎ And no tangles would be found the next day, or the next, or the day after that.

✎ His hair has been conditioned by you 0-0

✎ HOW YOU DID IT?

✎ You will play with his hair if it’s the last thing you do.

✎ The time where both of you play with each other’s hair the most is during studies or homework.

✎ Both of you would go sit next to another and go focus on your own assignments.

✎ and the two of yous would eventually go to sleep...

✎ On each other...

✎ Hand on each other’s head, entwining the hair in between your fingers.

✎ When the two of you wake up...

✎ His hand isn’t tangled in your hair...

✎ BUT YOUR HAND IS STUCK IN HIS HAIR-

✎ “I guess we have to cut my hair-”

✎ you started crying immediately-

✎ LEON FIX THEM-

✾ Nagito Komeada:

✎ When you first reached for his head, he instinctively spun his head around to face you-

✎ “S/O? What are you doing? Don’t tell me you were planning on breaking my neck so trash like me won’t exist anymore! Actually, I wouldn’t mind if that’s what you were going to do!” he chuckled with an innocent smile, “But could you tell me what you were planning to do with my head?”

✎ Well-

✎ That scared you-

✎ he has some good reflexes to hear you go up to him-

✎ but this has got you flustered-

✎ “U-Uhm... I was gonna play with your hair? It looks fluffy,” you mumbled, though Nagito heard you.

✎ “Oh... If that’s the problem, I don’t mind. Mess up my hair and do whatever with it! I doubt you would like my hair though!” he giggled again, same low-self esteem as ever <3

✎ As you touched his hair, it was exactly what you expected.

✎ It was soft and surprisingly silky.

✎ Since his hair is long you make some pretty nice hairstyles.

✎ Braids are a must for this man’s hair.

✎ Not even to mention simple styles, like a ponytail (TOTALLY A REFERENCE TO THE 10TH ANNIVERSARY PICTURE, ABSOLUTELY, I NEED TO MENTION THIS, I CAN’T GET OVER HIS HAIRRR)

✎ Unlike what the other boys did, Nagito does not play with your hair, no matter how tempting.

✎ His hands do not deserve to touch your hair-

✎ Though he may have played with it once...

✎ Okay maybe twice-

✎ Though, it was only twice... and on accident-

✎ His luck did it-

✎ He swears that it wasn’t him and his own free will-

✎ It was his luck-

✎ I mean, he was walking, tripped onto you, and his hand managed to run through your hair-

✎ And then it happened again a few days after-

✎ Those were the only times-

✎ Your scalp massages are... difficult-

✎ Why you may ask?

✎ His hair is too long-

✎ And whenever you go into his hair, it somehow gets tangled with you hand.

✎ I don’t make the rules for his hair-

✎ It just gets tangled easily-

✎ But you don’t ever want him to cut it-

✎ Like, ever-

✎ You’ll manage-

✎ But, uh oh, another Makoto scenario happens and WHOOPS now he had to get a haircut-

✎ Nagito isn’t happy about it either, just know that-

✎ He isn’t happy about it because it brought you despair, c’mon now-

✎ He’ll cuddle your though after so you feel better though :D

✎ So...

✎ Not a total loss :D

✾ Byakuya Togami:

✎ Honestly, you guys were on national T.V.

✎ Seriously. You guys were literally on T.V. because of the news anchors rampaging into Hope’s Peak once.

✎ It was an unlucky day for Byakuya-

✎ His hair was... Not cooperating with him that day.

✎ Not like you cared-

✎ Okay maybe a little bit-

✎ ...

✎ It got on your nerves-

✎ So you literally sat up, got in front of him, not being subtle about it whatsoever, and you said, “Let me fix your hair.”

✎ Nothing else was said. He just... nodded and closed his eyes.

✎ Granting you this permission, you started stroking his hair and trying to fix it. Taking off his glasses and ruffling his blonde locks a little, you started fixing it.

✎ Then a bunch of men and women broke down the door-

✎ You were not expecting that. You flinched and knocked your forehead against Byakuya’s-

✎ “OW! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” Byakuya shouted, obviously oblivious to the multiple cameras on the other side of the room.

✎ “S-Sorry!” You yelled, backing away from him in a rush, though your couldn’t get far.

✎ Yes, again-

✎ Your hands were stuck in his hair.

✎ Great-

✎ As Sakura, Aoi, Makoto, and many others such as Leon told the people to get out, you were struggling on how to get your hands out of his lovely golden hair...

✎ Not as bad now...

✎ “What are you doing?” He asked, a bit of embarrassment on his face.

✎ Unconsciously you started giving his head a massage-

✎ WhOoPs-

✎ “Oh! Sorry again, I’ll stop-”

✎ “N-no no... Keep going...” He closed his eyes again as your fingers ran through his hair and pushed against his scalp.

✎ Would you believe me if I said you two weren’t dating yet in this moment?

✎ Because you guys weren’t-

✎ Eventually, your hands got untangled and his gorgeous hair was saved.

✎ Days after, Byakuya offered you to be his significant other.

✎ And, duh, you said YES-

✎ Though he isn’t big on PDA, me makes up for it when he allows you to play with his hair. Just twirling it around your finger makes you happy and your smile? He cannot resist it.

✎ It was the first cute thing he had ever thought was cute-

✎ He lets you do those scalp massages all the time, c’mon, he has work to do and he hides all the stress, lets face that fact-

✎ By the way, tidy up his hair any day. If one strand of hair isn’t the way you like it, you can change it and he won’t get mad. Not in the slightest :D

✎ Byakuya loves how you make hairstyles for him, though he won’t tell.

✎ But some of them... Can burn. Not his hair, his hair shall not burn, but those hideous designs? Yeah those can burn.

✎ He’ll still let you do his hair that way if you want though-

Welp! I hope you liked this? It’s kinda short (for all of them of course) but I had no motivation to make this (aka i kinda liked this prompt so i did it, with the leftover of my motivation still in me :’D)

✾ Mod Mahiru ✾

✾ Snap Snap! Remember to Smile! ✾

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oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 3 years

Text

"And I’m damn proud of you, because you survived another day." (Ms. Venable x reader,

hiyaa :3 i wrote this yesterday while we were stuck in traffic...so idk lol

summary: You are depressed coz of the apocalypse and your girlfriend wants to help you..idk i’m bad in smt like that :’)

warnings: depression, talking about suicide, pills

“momma im in love with google translate”

"Maybe I'm going crazy now, but I saw a young woman in the hallway in front of the library last night", Mr. Gallant said at the dinner tonight

Timothy just shrugged.

"It must have been some Gray who got lost", he muttered and stabbed the little cube in front of him with his fork.

Mister Gallant rolled his eyes.

"No I swear!", Replied the hairstylist. "I know all the Grays by now and I've never seen her before and she wore purple."

Stu, who was sitting next to the man, suppressed a laugh.

"You've probably seen a ghost, I said it's only a question of time before the first of us commits suicide."

"Or until Miss Venable killed everyone who didn't obey her rules", Coco added in a whisper and made the others laugh.

Unlucky Miss Venable wasn't deaf.

"What nonsense .." hissed the red-haired woman at the other end of the table.

"I promise you, the only ghost that will haunt around here is Mister Gallant's, should he wander around the Outpost one more time."

Immediately everyone stopped laughing and all eyes were on Miss Venable, who now stood up without a word to go out of the room.

"Or her ghost, if she continues to act as if we were her subjects ..", Coco mumbled quietly before she turned back to her 'dinner'.

------------

Miss Venable ran through the corridors of her outpost to get to her room.

What those idiots at the table had said worried her. Not because she cared about other people's opinions, simply because they were right. The thing with the ghost was just a joke, but it was, what you basically were...a ghost.

Ever since you first met before all of this, you had been struggling with depression and an apocalypse was unlikely to improve your condition. She had decided it was better if the other residents of the outpost didn't find out about your existence. Which wasn't a problem, because most of the day you were just lying in bed tired anyway.

"Hey princess .." she said gently as she entered your bedroom. Her eyes fell on you in concern. Like the days before, you lay buried in your blanket and the only thing what she could see was your disheveled hair, which had become greasy. One would have thought you would have been dead, had your chest not slowly raised and lowered again.

Mina closed the door behind her, before crossing the room to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. She carefully pulled the covers down to reveal your face. Without emotion, you stared with bleary eyes into the flame of the torch that hung on the wall.

"How do you feel?", Mina whispered and pushed a few strands of your hair from your face.

"I missed you ..", you answered in a dry voice and Mina could feel a pang in her chest when she heard it.

"I'm here now", she muttered as she put her hand on your cheek.

She looked sadly into your cloudy eyes and knew that you probably wished you weren't alive any longer.

You cleared your throat and turned your gaze to Mina. And Mina could see that you were trying to bring a small smile to your chapped lips.

"I took my pills .." you said and Mina's eyes lit up at your words.

"Thats great, princess!", she called and smiled lovingly at you.

"I'm proud of you."

"And I ate the cubes", you added as you pull the blanket a little higher over your shoulders. "Even they were disgusting."

"You are such a good girl", Mina muttered before bending over to press her lips against the warm skin of your temple.

"I'll have a quick shower before I get to bed with you", she explained and got up to look at you thoughtfully.

"Do you want to join me?"

You looked at her for a few seconds with narrowed eyes.

"I look like shit don't I?" You finally said as you stood up with shaky legs and held onto her arm, which she held out to you.

"Don't say that", Mina replied as she led you into your bathroom. "You are beautiful as always, Princess".

Together with Mina's help, you manage to shower. It was unbelievably exhausting for Mina to stand so long without her cane and the fact that she now also helped you to wash, bordered on a miracle.

After both of you showered and dried your hair, you climbed into your bed and you could finally curl up in your girlfriend's arms.

"I forgot to ask how your day was". Mina heard you whisper in the dark while rubbing her hands over the bare skin of your back.

She pondered briefly what to answer you. Her day had been shitty. Those selfish, rich assholes were just annoying.

"My day was okay", she mumbled and suddenly she remembered the conversation at dinner.

"Why didn't you tell me, you were in the library last night?" She added without sounding reproachful.

"How do you know that?" You asked confused as you started to play with the hem of her purple nightgown. When Mina didn't answer you continued.

"I wanted to read last night so I went to the library to get a book."

Mina hesitated a few seconds before answering. Somewhere it was great, you had left your room for the first time in weeks, but on the other hand she disapproved the thought of you, wandering through the corridors of the outpost at night.

"You could have woken me up, I would have gone with you." she said finally.

"Did you at least be able to read?"

"I gave up after the first three sentences", you sighed.

"It was just too much."

Your girlfriend wrapped her arms around you a little tighter when she heard the regret in your voice.

"It's okay .." she hummed. "The only important thing right now, is that you survived another day. I'm proud of you princess", she muttered, suppressing a yawn before closing her eyes and falling asleep a few minutes later.

She told you that every evening.

---------------------

You had been in this outpost for almost two months and you got tired of waking up every morning with a fear of opening your eyes. Because a part of you still had the hope,that it was just a nightmare. But whenever you opened your eyes, instead of staring out of the window of your bedroom, you stared into the fire of the torch, thag hung next to the bed and all your hopes died.

You found yourself ungrateful and you could think of countless people, who would have deserved your place in the Outpost much more than you did. You weren't anyone and just because Mina was your girlfriend you were still alive. That was unfair.

Of course you could see how worried Mina was about you and you hated yourself for it. The world had come to an end and Mina, as the head of this outpost, paid her attention to you, the poor little wreck that couldn't even shower by itself.

You pulled the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders when a slight breeze made you shiver and sent goosebumps all over your body. It had been a stupid idea to leave your room again, but you had to promise Mina that you would take your pills and now you were looking for the kitchen, if there was something like that here, to get a glass of water.

Usually Mina brought you these things and you couldn't blame her for forgetting today.

It was currently 10 p.m. and you were already in your pajamas while walking barefoot through the outpost to get some water.

"Oh my god. Gallant was right, it's haunted here", a shrill voice suddenly called from behind you and made you flinch. You turned slowly around and looked with narrowed eyes into the face of a blonde woman, who came up to you and stood in front of you with folded arms.

"Are you a purple?" She asked you frowning and you nodded curtly.

"And whats your name?" She asked further.

"Y / N", you mumbled and decided at the same moment, that you didn't like this woman.

"Well, Y / N, I've never seen you here before",

the blonde cocked her head and looked at you piercingly as

you looked away from her and looked embarrassed at your feet.

"I spend a lot of time in my room."

"Your room?" Asked the woman confused.

"Which room do you live in exactly? To the best of my knowledge, all of the rooms in the outpost are occupied. You can't have a room of your own-"

"I should go now", you muttered as you turned to move away from this annoying woman, but she grabbed your wrist.

"Just wait until Miss Venable finds out", she said, looking down at you smugly. "You know, she-"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Mina's loud voice at the end of the hall made you both drive around to her.

The blonde immediately let go of your wrist and pointed with outstretched fingers at your trembling form.

"This is the woman Mister Gallant was talking about", she said and looked at you disparagingly.

"You see? It's not haunted here", Mina hissed as she approached you both. "As tightly as you have gripped her wrist, she can't be a ghost."

"I've never seen her here before, how is that possible?" Asked the annoying woman and you winced again when her shrill voice boomed in your ears.

"Maybe because your selfish ass is too busy with itself?", Mina funodded angrily at the blonde, who thought with open mouth what she should answer, but Mina got ahead of her.

"I think you should go to bed now, before you say anything you might regret later", Mina kept her voice lowered while she spoke and sounded dangerous at the same time.

The woman next to you looked at you and then at Mina one more time before turning and reluctantly went down the hall.

"Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt", Mina said to you while she watched the blonde disappear into one of the rooms and you knew that she meant the woman's name.

"What are you doing here, princess?", asked your girlfriend and grabbed the hand that this woman, Coco, had just grabbed, to gently stroke the back of your hand with her thumb.

"I wanted to get some water.. you know, for the pills", you mumbled.

"And then this woman came."

"Go back to our room, it's cold," Mina cooed and gently squeezed your hand.

"I'll get you water."

"Thanks .." you said curtly and let go of her hand before turning around to go back to your room.

When Mina came to your room less than five minutes later, you were already buried in bed under your blanket again and only your head was sticking out.

"I've got your water", she muttered and walked across the room to put the glass on your bedside table. You mumbled a little "thank you", reached for the glass to wash down the pills.

As you drank, your eyes were glued on Mina, who crossed the room to lock your door and you could see her grimace with every step she took.

"You are in pain", you noticed shortly after you put your glass back on the table.

"Honey?" You kept trying as she ignored you.

"I'm fine," she growled without looking at you.

"Stop lying to me."

Again she didn't answer and just sat on the edge of her bed.

Worried you stared holes in her back while you chewed on your cracked lower lip. She always did that .. Whenever she felt bad and you noticed, she ignored you.

"Okay, come here", you sighed and climbed over the bed to sit cross-legged behind her.

"What is this supposed to be, Princess?"

Mina sounded confused when she felt you carefully pull the zipper of her dress down.

"I take care of you", you muttered and also pulled the zipper of her white lace blouse down to expose her back.

"Y / N, you really don't have to. I don't-"

"Shut up, Mina!", you growled and leaned over to take the lotion off her bedside table. You opened the jar to spread the lotion on your fingers.

"You let me know if I hurt you, right?" You whispered and when she nodded in agreement you carefully began to spread the ointment on her back.

The next minute was filled with a pleasant silence as you tried not to hurt your girlfriend and tried to be as gentle as possible. You usually did this for her every night, but for the past few weeks it had been canceled due to your health and it was obvious that she couldn't take care of it herself.

"How was your day, princess?", Mina finally asked quietly and you took a moment to think about her question.

"Better than yesterday", you said curtly while your fingers were still wandering over her serpentine spine.

"You know, everytime I close my eyes, I see faces of my friends and relatives and I wonder if this will ever end."

Mina hummed in agreement before speaking.

"I haven't had a lot of people I liked, but I can imagine how awful you feel. It may not be a comfort, but I think you will eventually get used to it."

"I don't know ,how I feel right now to be honest", you mumbled.

"Inside of me everything is so empty. I haven't shed a single tear in weeks, if you understand what I mean."

Mina nodded slowly and was about to say something when suddenly you wrapped your arms around her from behind and carefully leaned your forehead against her back.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Mina", you whispered against her skin. "And even if I'm not really showing it at the moment, I'm so grateful for everything you do for me and I love you so much."

"Oh Princess ..", Mina cooed gently as she turned around in your arms to press her lips against yours.

"I know that you love me and I love you too. And you survived another day and that's the only thing that matters at the moment."

-------------------

A few days went by and you were still a total mess.

One day you walked around the room and could tidy up something while other days you could just lie in bed and stare holes in the wall. Mina was still very worried about you and really wanted you to be fine. But she also understood that this was probably going to be difficult for you, as there was nothing to hold on to your hope.

It was already afternoon when she was on her way to your room to bring you something, that she hoped would help. And while one hand was protecting herself on her stick, she was holding the clear plastic jar in the other, that she wanted to show you.

"Hey little sunshine", she called when she came into your room to find you wrapped in her blanket. She frowned.

"Why are you lying under my blanket?"

"I missed you and the blanket smells like you", you grumbled as you pulled the blanket down to reveal your face. Your eyes wandered to the plastic can in Mina's hand.

"What's that?" You asked confused

Mina smiled as she walked over to you to sit next to you on the bed.

"This is for you", she muttered and you sat up to take the can, she held out to you in your hands.

Mina looked at you expectantly and watched with satisfaction as your eyes lit up when you recognized the contents of the box.

"Oh my god, Mina", you breathed and began to smile while your eyes stared fascinated at the red butterfly, that was fluttering around in the box.

"She came into the outpost two days ago and I had her checked for diseases", Mina explained as she brushed a few of your hair off your face.

"She is beautiful", you whispered and when Mina saw tears glistening in your eyes, she knew that it was the right decision to give you the butterfly.

"She is", she mumbled contentedly before reaching out to tap the wall of the can with her index finger.

"And do you see the little pearls, that lie in the corner on the sheet? Those are eggs, from which caterpillars will hatch at some point-"

"And then they turn into more butterflies", you finished and she nodded.

"Mina, that's great, if we do everything right, we will not only be able to save our species, theirs too", you said and looked at Mina with sparkling eyes.

"You absolutely have to show the others .."

"Oh no", Mina replied.

"The others would find it more disgusting than fascinating, so you should take care of them."

"I ugh- well, thank you", you smiled brightly at her and Mina was glad to finally see you smile again. She leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead before she put her arm around you and you could rest your head on her shoulder. And while she was watching the little butterfly like you, the smell of her lavender perfume suddenly rose to her nose and she frowned.

"Do you wear my perfume, princess?", She asked confused and of course couldn't see how you blushed.

"As I said, I missed you", you muttered.

"Please don't be mad at me, i know its weird."

"No! I think its cute", Mina said quickly uhd pressed another kiss on your hair.

"And i'm damn proud of you, because you survived another day."

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable imagine #american horror story

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swordbenihime · 3 years

Note

okay idk if im requesting right because im new to tumblr but- can you write a fic where zeke falls in love with a soldier from paradis? like this is around the time he brings the cart titan there but like in hopes of getting reiner back he accidentally gets y/n? something like that?

Conflict// Zeke Yeager x Survey Corps Soldier

Warnings:None

Words:1.4k

...

You've been waiting in this cold cell for months. The lonely and dark cell was enough to make you question your life. You were left alone, and there was no one who could save you.

There was no longer escape for you. The cold wall you leaned against caused you to tremble; you pushed the hair against your forehead with the back of your hand. Your inner conflict was enough to feel guilty. While all your comrades were dead, you were drowning in your thoughts here.

Empathy is a special talent not given to every person. Understanding others' feelings made you feel cursed.

Understanding the enemy revealed your deepest thoughts in your mind. They were no different from you. The blood that flows through your veins, the goals you have acquired; none of you were different from each other.

It would be uncomfortable to face this bitter truth. One would be happy to believe lies rather than face the truth, whereas denial would only magnify the pain.

If you could find a way to get rid of this gnawing feeling, you would. But there was no way. The truth once learned could not be forgotten again.

As you pulled your legs towards your body, you put your head between your knees. You feeled to be pulled into a black hole.

They didn't have the concepts of good and bad for you anymore. These concepts lost their meaning; they were just words. The letters you saw on the paper didn't make sense.

You calmly thought of the scene in your mind as your eyes slowly closed: the screams, the crying soldiers, the smell of blood.

You said, "I'm going to die here."

At that moment, you thought you were going to die there. You closed your eyes; you waited silently for death. But you were just so lucky. Maybe unlucky.

Perhaps death was the better option, considering what you were feeling now. Your torment was asking you to pull on your knees and cry.

As the door was opened, your gaze found the soldiers, grabbed your arm and lifted it to your feet.While not opposing them, you took your steps forward, and you knew what would happen after all.

As the door opened, the blond man had a quick glance at you, writing something on the paper in front of him with pen, pointing at the chair with his hand, telling you to sit down.

The silky voice that reached your ear was no longer as irritating as it was on the first day. You were used to it. You got used to it more.You were starting to understand even this man who killed everyone.

"Hello," he said as his gaze found you.His eyes wrapped around your sad face caused him to frown.

"You don't look good today."he said suddenly.

You weren't well.Your blank gaze met his face. His gray eyes were waiting for you to answer. Your lips were slowly parted.

"I've been in a cell for months.How do you expect me to look good?"

Did the expression soften for a moment or did you see it wrong? Frankly, no one knew the correct answer.

He had been questioning you for months like this. He was asking questions about everything, trying to find out everything you know. At first, other soldiers had suggested torture, but he opposed it. He said he could make you talk.

The first time you met, your gaze dropped; you didn't say a single word. As the days passed, you started small conversations. He really made you talk.

You still haven't told anything about Paradis. You were just telling each other how your days went by. You couldn't even believe you did this, but you needed to talk to someone. You had to contact a person, even if this person was Zeke Yeager.

His fingers tangled in his blond hair. It was obvious that he was thinking of something. He looked stressed and nervous, as if he was holding back not to speak.

He whispered "You're right." He leaned back as he closed the files in front of him.

"Shall we talk about Paradis?" He asked.

Your gaze drifted away from gray eyes. So it was the moment. "I refuse." You said resolutely.

Zeke continued to stare at you for a moment, shaking his head, reaching for the cigarette pack on the table.Your eyes closed involuntarily as he felt his breath on your face. It felt strange to feel him this way. The more you felt him, the more you began to understand him.

"How stubborn you are."he said to himself, and you started laughing slightly.

"What am I going to talk about? My friends who died? Or the titans that ate us alive? Or we have no difference from titans? What will I talk about, War Chief?"

"You surprised me."

You shook your head slowly as your eyes met.

"I don't understand."

He once again exhaled from his cigarette. "I thought you would say I am a murderer. I killed all your friends,ı am ruthless. You know, things like that."

"No." you said queitly,looked away from him.

Zeke was even more curious when he saw this state of mind. Your eyes suddenly widened s his fingers found your hand, and your gaze met again.

"You are a soldier. You were following orders, just like me."you whispered

The fingers on your hand were slowly away from you, you were still looking at each other in silence.

"I must know myself before critize others. I am not a good person either. I also committed murders; killed people. The titans ı slaughtered were people,after all."

He continued to look at you in silence, picking up the files in front of him and stood up and left the room.

...

Later in the evening, you were sitting on the ground, thinking quietly. The answer you gave surprised him; you knew that. He did not expect such an answer.You could shout him, tell him he was a murderer, and you wouldn't have lied, and maybe you had the right to say that. He killed everyone you knew.

But you didn't want to say, repeating what happened made it pointless. He was a soldier, he was following orders, just like you in Stohess. You couldn't forget that moment of staring at the corpses of hundreds of civilians.

The door of the dark cell was suddenly opened, and there was no one coming at this hour, which was not a good sign.You stood up quickly; your back met the wall.

You were suddenly relieved to see the person entering. You were afraid to see someone except him. At least you were aware that he would not hurt you. Although it is unbelievable.

As you told the soldier standing at the door to go, the door was closed; you two were left alone.

“We need to talk. "He looked solemnly; it wasn't good.

"You need to give us information about Paradis. Or they want it to be executed you as soon as possible."

You stayed where you were with the words you heard. So you came to an end.

"I refuse."

You should have died already, on that battlefield; you should never have come here.With the fingers you felt on your chin, your gaze suddenly turned toward him, his face leaning towards you; your body was between the wall and his body.

"Don't be stubborn." His gray eyes were staring into your eyes; his fingers were traveliing on your cheek. You had unconsciously closed your eyes.

"I should have died on that battlefield. None of this should have happened. You shouldn't have brought me here." you whispered.Your lips were touching.

"But it happened."

It was true.He was saying truth from day one.He was accepting what he did.No denying.

"You should have killed me."

You felt his smile you felt on your lips,your fingers in his hair, your lips met.It was wrong.You felt but you kept go.Your arms wrapped around his neck.You didn't even know where was this feeling coming from.His lips found your neck,started to kiss slowly.Your body was squirmed in his arms.

"I have a thing for you."he whispered.

Your lips met him again with his confession.Because,you had a thing for him too.

You forgot everything in his arms; you just kept kiss him. You didn't care what was going to happen.As your lips parted, he gave you a quick kiss,he had straightened his messy blonde hair and loose tie.

"I'll come back soon."he said.You nodded,kissed him back.

You had no choice but to wait for him.

#zeke yeager x reader #zeke x reader #zeke yeager #aot imagines #zeke aot

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phantomqueen · 3 years

Text

remember the “gonna post about friends like its spn” post? thats how i feel rn

the show does the “dudes DO NOT want to be perceived as gay bc GOD how EMBARRASSING and GROSS” bit So Much that at this point i am wishing mostly out of Spite that one of the dudes had had a romance w/ another man

and chandler is the perfect candidate! while all the guys have the “Whoa Whoa I’M NOT GAY!!!! 🙅‍♂️” mentality, chandler gets the brunt of it when almost everyone thinks he “looks” gay and its like this joking thing & something he’s insecure about bc He’s NOT Gay!!! but it couldve been like ooh it just rly hits close to home bc deep down maybe he uhh Does have gay feelings. but he’s afraid to admit it which would tie into his fear of intimacy. maybe it also ties into his dad being gay & his weird feelings about that since it led to his parents’ divorce which was traumatizing for him as a kid. idk! this post is already embarrassingly long

so like seasons 1-2 he realizes/comes to terms with it. his friends would b cool ofc but realistically as a 90s sitcom there will still be off color jokes. s3 he dates some guys. we still have the same potential for self-deprecating unlucky in love jokes tbh. late s3 to s4 he realizes he still likes women, coming to terms with bisexuality, etc. insert joke about how for him being bi just means getting twice as many rejections (canned audience laughter)

anyway this is how i get both my “chandler likes men” AND my “chandler/monica endgame” cakes bc i really liked him & monica together. im also okay with chandler/joey and maybe like both of them having the journey of realization™ together

#friends

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scorpioxsith · 3 years

Text

Don’t you agree?

I was totally on my bullshit after watching Chapter 13 last night, I smoked a joint and, god damn I was feeling inspired, I wrote something, whatever my imagination was doing at 1AM.

It’s just a little something. I tidied up the grammar to coherency but i kinda like it being organic as it was, to reflect reader being not-sober (just like me baha). 🤪

Also influencing this, I’m in the UK and we’ve been in lockdown for the past month and it ain't about to end for me anytime soon, so i am pining for a night out (idk just some fun god damn) and some mando attention.

I felt like sharing it because it’s kinda fun and lighthearted and if it helps someone else escape right now then cool. This is some #realthirstyhotgirlshit, reader is flirty and a lil confident but also a lil shy because heck I can be confident (lies) but put me in front of Mando and you bet I would be total jello. (also i dont think mando is necessarily OOC in this BUT if he is idc i just want him to be my daddy lmfao)

Im living for season 2, someone give Filoni an award NOW!!

warnings: references to alcohol/drug use. its not smut but its flirty. if i carry it on it'll go “further” but I’m scared of commitment so

Drabble below the cut.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hanged off of Greef Karga in a friendly embrace and giggled in the spice lounge. You were howling about a story he had just told you and the two of you were almost crying with laughter. You’d just come back from a very successful mission, and when he'd asked if you wanted to celebrate the win with him, you shrugged your shoulders at him with a playful smirk “alright then.”

two hours later and you were both inebriated. it was bleeding into the mid evening, the night at its peak. energy buzzed in the spice lounge with the music and fluttering ebb and flow of conversations, carrying an infectious energy into the air.

your body felt relaxed, your mind loose.

it was a little foolish, given you are in so doing letting your guard down, but you hoped if you were unlucky enough to be accosted in this state, with Greef by your side you felt a safe bet you could still take most people.

Although you didn’t particularly have much in common with him, he had a playful demeanour that made for a fun drinking partner.

Karga tapered his hysterics off into a deep chuckle, “ah, you know-”

“Karga.”

A blur of silver came into yours and Greef’s vision until it materialised before your eyes into a Mandalorian. A hot Mandalorian. You had no idea you had a thing for that but it was the first thought that sprung to your mind. You quickly looked to Greef, playing off your fluttering lashes and hoping the Mandalorian hadn’t noticed your astonishment. Or…maybe if he had, maybe it wouldn’t be totally the end of the world. Who knows.

Greef Karga also took a moment to summon a response, frozen for the barest of moments, but you saw it. He was taken aback by the Mandalorian's presence. Then, he flew into a huge bravada of an introduction.

Maker, you were both so high.

“Mando!” Greef bellows, “well I never. I never thought I’d see you in this particular establishment!”

The Mandalorian cocked his head impatiently. “I’m only here because I was told this is where I’d find you.”

His voice went straight through you. Fuck.

Greef turned to you. “Allow me to introduce my associate…”

you smiled awkwardly at this, oh god - why were you feeling shy? I mean…well actually...you do know why, don’t you?

“Good to meet you,” you said carefully - you didn’t want to spook him, so no heavy flirting yet but your tone was warm and a little sultry.

The Mandalorian’s helmet turned to you and you weren’t sure if you imagined it but you were sure you felt some sort of tension almost immediately bloom as he continued to hold your gaze. Your skin prickled in a path down your body as if his very gaze was passing over your curves and leaving a blazing fire in its wake.

Your voice lazy, a little sexy, as were your sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks. “I'm Y/n.”

“Mando,” he responds huskily. You think that will be it, but then- “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

His voice is run through a modulator in his helmet, making it hard to pin down his tone. You couldn’t tell what his angle was but something inside of you hoped he was feeling the same magnetism as you right now.

You realised he was waiting for an answer, and you hope you mask the subtle cheeky glint in your eye before you respond.

“I am new to this parsec, yes. I have been in the Guild for a couple months now but I’m often out on mission.”

“Is that right?” There’s a smoothness to his voice that makes you blush slightly, you hope its not obvious. To Greef, that is. It'll definitely be obvious to Mando’s heat vision, but you could live with that embarrassment. He continued, “I assume as you are here, your previous mission was successful.”

You nodded up at him, thinking wow he’s so tall and big and yes and he’s looking down at you too, until a hand clapped on your back and Greef came into the picture again.

“Indeed!” Greef commended as if it was the best thing in the world. “An impressive one hundred per cent success rate! She’s almost as talented as you, Mando, I like this one!”

Karga gives you a joking side wink and you can’t help but laugh - he forces it out of you when your eyes meet as if something is so hilarious but you’re not even sure what it is, mainly just the fact that he’s chatting absolute shit and you can’t take it seriously. Mando gazes at you as he waits for you both to finish your ridiculous and illogical giggling fit.

It takes longer than a minute for you both to get control of yourselves, your laughter filling the air of the spice lounge. Mando's hands went to his hips and he cocked into a stance that had you wanting to drop to your knees. That stopped your giggling.

Karga wipes another tear from his eye, you’re not sure if he’s doing it for dramatic effect and it almost sends you off the edge again.

“Forgive me, I’m feeling loose. Speaking of, I’m going to go get myself another Gin ’n’ Juice,” Karga announced playfully. “Mando? Drink, Y/n?” he asks you.

“Just a water, please,” you said sweetly. You needed it.

“Karga, I came here to talk,” Mando quipped impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah,” Karga rolled his eyes, “and if I’m gonna listen to you, I need a drink. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll be right back.”

With that he whirled away, leaving you with the Mandalorian.

You weren’t sure whether to start conversation or wait for him to ask you something, but then there was the predicament of what to say. The armour was sexy as hell, but it did make him difficult to read.

The Mandalorian was watching Greef retreat to the bar, before seeming to roll his shoulders and relax slightly, consciously, then looked down at you.

Then, he adjusted his weapon away from his body so he could take one large stride over to the now unoccupied space by you. He sat close, but still too far away. However, he relaxed into the seat a little more, the bulk of him spreading out further and inching closer to you. It was like some kind of erotic display and you couldn’t help but gaze at him in a way that betrayed your desires.

His helmet tilted at you and he chuckled knowingly. “Careful, kitten.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and a sudden warmness whooshed through your whole body. It was dizzying and immediately a hot aching began to pulse in your core. His voice danced through your tingling senses and you were enraptured.

You wanted to touch him, desperately, even just get a little closer. Encouraged by his boldness, you summoned the courage to teasingly reach out and slowly trace your fingers over his thigh. You hear a staticky breath come out of the modulator.

One of his large hands snapped down to rest over yours, except he didn't snatch your hand away. He held it in place, his hand heavy and hot over yours, pressing down on his firm thigh. Your breath hitched as movement in your peripheral barely caught his other hand coming up, too late and you were taken by a shudder when you felt his gloved fingers trail gently down the sensitive curve of your exposed neck. Your head tilted in compliance, lashes fluttering, barely in control of the longing gaze of desire you were levelling back into the visor of the helmet.

"You should be careful, cyar'ika," he murmured, "Some would take advantage of this right now."

You barely held back a whine, but you knew he was right. Shit, his righteousness only made you want him more.

He pulled back swiftly, though it was a gentle touch when his hand gripped and lifted yours off his thigh, placing it back onto your own lap. His fingers ghosted over your forearm as they retreated.

Moments later, Karga returned with more drinks you knew one single man could carry, and you gaped at him.

"Karga, I said water!" you pouted.

"I got that, too," he replied, pushing a glass filled with clear liquid towards you, condensation beading down the side.

You drank half of it immediately. You eyed the pink drink he'd also brought you back, unsure if it was wise. You weren't really one for drinking and smoking at the same time, it was risky business that.

Greef lowered himself into the seat across from Mando. "Get on with it then, before I change my mind," he said to Mando, urging him to get the business talk over with, because he knew for sure that must be the reason for this highly unexpected appearance.

You didn't miss the way the Mandalorian looked at Karga in a silent challenge, daring him to cheek him again. Karga laughed it off, bumping one of Mando's pauldrons and slid one of the drinks across the table to the Mandalorian.

Mando's shoulders rose and fell in a sigh of defeat, like he just couldn't be bothered with the hassle.

"I think the puck you gave me was intended for someone else." With that, Mando slammed the puck onto the table, startling you slightly and some of the fuller drinks jumped out of their glasses onto the table.

The puck's holo beamed up a second later, a picture of a wealthy, androgynous looking human male.

He continued, "You know I can't be going anywhere near the Inner Rim."

Karga peered at the puck. "Ah yes..." he glanced at Mando, then you, before chaotically spinning the puck across the table towards you.

"Dank ferrick!!" you cursed, barely catching the puck under your palm as you slammed your hand down to the table quickly.

Karga burst out laughing, "coincidentally it was meant for her ladyship here. Very chivalrous to bring it to its rightful owner, Mando."

The Mandalorian's head spun to pin you with an unreadable gaze. After a tense moment, he said, "Who said I was returning it?"

You blinked at him, palm suddenly burning where the puck was sitting innocently beneath it.

Karga chuckled again. "Apologies for the assumption, old friend. How can I resolve the matter?"

Mando's gaze returned to Karga, briefly releasing you. "You promised me payment for this. The only solution I can see is a partnership for this bounty."

The Mandalorian turned back to you. "Don't you agree?"

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian drabble #the mandalorian fanfic #this is a total hot mess hahaha #but i had fun #my writing #my drabbles #my fics #man i dont understand the spacing on tumblr at all im sorry

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