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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 2 months

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I'm a Winner

Pairing: GatorxReader

Summary: You've heard rumors about Gator's abilities in the bedroom and you're curious. You can overlook his bumbling idiocy for an earth shattering orgasm.

18+ Only

Your eyes started tracking him from the moment he walked in. Gator Tillman, cocky son of Roy Tillman who was known for being a jerk, an idiot, and the resident fuckboy. He moved with the swagger of a man who thought he ran the world. Which is exactly what he thought. He never missed a chance to tell people how he was the law.

He pulled that stupid vape from his pocket, hitting it hard as he laughed at something Jimmy was saying. Jimmy, another douchebag if there ever was one. You’d made the mistake of hooking up with him for him to be gone before you’d even woken up. No note. No call. But you’d seen him at the bar that night, Susan hanging all over him while he pretended that he had no idea who you were.

After fucking four of Stark County’s finest you had sworn off cops completely. But lately, you’d been thinking of bending that rule. Yeah, Gator Tillman ran his mouth, telling anyone who would listen how amazing he was in the sack. It was probably just that, all talk. But according to a couple of the girls, he was worth taking a ride.

He chugged a beer as the men around him all chanted, finishing it off with a neanderthal thumping of chest that led to a loud belch. You grimaced. Maybe this plan wasn’t the best one. Maybe those girls had been exaggerating. After all, Roy Tillman owned this county. No one wanted to get on his or his son’s bad side. They could just be blowing smoke up your ass so it didn’t get back to Gator that they were talking shit about him.

After Lacy Boggs had bragged about Gator fucking her in the back of his cop car after another one of Jimmy’s parties, you’d been intrigued. She’d claimed that he had worked her over so good that she couldn’t walk straight for a week. After Kelsey Stouts had renowned you with her story of giving him head to get out of a speeding ticket, saying she’d never been so turned on having a dick in her mouth, you’d been highly interested.

What man had a dick so special that a woman came just from sucking him off? You’d found yourself suddenly paying special attention to the deputy sheriff. Sipping your coffee in the diner while he picked up his order, noticing how well he filled out those camo pants he loved so much. He’d leaned back, resting his elbows on the counter, lazily waiting for his food, and you’d noticed it wasn’t just the back of the pants he’d filled out.

That was the moment you’d decided you needed to see for yourself. That was the moment you’d realized that Gator Tillman, while a piece of absolute shit, was a hell of a view from all angles. He wasn’t long term material but you weren’t looking for long term. You were simply looking for a good time with a man who might be able to show it to. Unlike the other worthless men in this town.

Gator turned, his eyes locking onto yours from where you sat, on a stool at the counter in the kitchen. One eyebrow lifted along with one side of his mouth, his hand running over that slicked back hair. You ran your tongue over your upper lip, knowing he wouldn’t be able to ignore the gesture. And sure enough, here he came, like a dog scenting a bitch in heat.

“I could feel your eyes on me,” he smirked, placing one hand on the counter next to you, invading your space to the point where you could smell the Axe body spray he’d clearly used far too much of. “Whatchu want, darling?”

“Sorry, officer. Is it a crime to look?” you challenged, tilting your head, biting back the urge to reach out and tug on the wild mass of chest hair that was escaping the top of his shirt.

“It’s only a crime if I say it’s a crime.” His head dropped, lips so close you could smell the fruity tang on his breath of watermelon from that damn vape he always had in his pocket. “See something you like?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve heard things…but I’m not sure if I should believe them or not.”

“You heard things? Well, I heard things too.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“I heard you got a thing for men in uniform,” he whispered. His hand fell on your knee and you allowed it, curious to see where this was going to go. After all, wasn’t this what you’d come here for tonight? “Let me guess. You been disappointed but you heard Gator can get your body exactly where it needs to be, didn’t you?”

His fingers slid under the edge of your skirt and you placed your hand over them, stopping him. Gator smirked, pulling hips lips between his teeth.

“Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?” you teased.

“You could be full of me too, mama. You know you want to. Just say the word. Jimmy’s got a spare room upstairs. This Gator wouldn’t mind exploring your wet swamp.”

A snort you couldn’t stop escaped and before you knew it, you were in hysterics. Gator looked confused and then offended, his hand disappearing from your leg as he straightened up, turning his head to each side, trying to regain his tough facade. His eyes darted around the room, daring anyone to say anything about you laughing at him.

“I’m sorry…but do you really think that’s sexy? Referring to my vagina as a swamp?” you cackled. “Jesus, maybe those girls were overexaggerating. I thought you had game.”

“Oh, I got game honey,” he hissed angrily, his face suddenly in yours again, those hazel eyes dark as night. You swallowed hard, pulling back, laughter dying in your throat as you waited to see what he was going to do. Knowing the Tillman family, there was no threshold to what they were capable of when they were angry. “I got more game than Lebron James.”

“Okay…yeah. I’m sure you do. Must be a bad night for you or something.”

His hand came to your throat, his nose bumping yours, “You need a lesson in how to talk respectfully to authority. If you don’t have nothing to say, we might have to give that pretty little mouth something else to do.”

Heat flared between your thighs as he pushed against you, spreading you wide until you could feel pressed against you. Dampness was already spreading across your panties, your teeth biting down on your lower lip to keep you from whimpering in front of this entire party. Fuck. Why were you so turned on? You should be pushing this asshole off and telling him where to shove it. But the way he was looking at you, those eyes filled with promises of what he planned to do…you wanted it.

Opening your eyes wide, you gave him the most innocent, doe eyed look you could manage. “Uh-oh, deputy. Have I been a bad girl? I guess you better punish me then so I can learn to be better.”

You enjoyed the way Gator’s eyes flickered in surprise, his cock reacting to your words, rigid and hard. You fought the urge to rub yourself against him, to relieve some of the ache that was already throbbing. You fucking needed this.

“Then get that sweet little ass upstairs.” His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “Last door on the right. Get on the bed and get on all fours. Lift that little skirt up for me and wait until I get there. And no touching yourself honey. I’ll know.”

Then he was gone. You gasped, blinking, finding him back over with his cop buddies, another beer in his hand. His eyes flickered to you and up the stairs. Not even knowing who the hell you were right now, you rose on shaky legs, making your way up the steps.

No one stopped you. No one even seemed to be paying attention and if they were, they probably just assumed you were going to the bathroom. At the top of the landing, you made your way down the hallway, grabbing the doorknob to the last door on the right just like he’d said.

Were you seriously going to do this? Were you really going to let Gator fucking Tillman order you around? For a second you considered just walking back down the stairs and out the door to your car. Let him be pissed when he got up here and found the room empty. Who in the hell did that guy think he was? God?

But that thought evaporated as fast as it came. You weren’t leaving. You were too invested now. You wanted to know if he could put his money where his mouth was. You wanted to know if that dick was as magical as the rumors said it was. And fuck, you wanted him to dominate the shit out of you. You wanted him to punish you. You wanted him to give you what you’d always craved but never had, what most of the boys in this town weren’t capable of. You wanted an earth shattering orgasm. You wanted to be walking funny for a week. You just hoped you weren’t getting your expectations up to have them shattered in disappointment because this guy could be all talk.

That fucking pick-up line. You snorted again thinking about it as you crawled onto the mattress. What woman would want her pussy to be compared to a swamp? Gross. Pressing your face into the mattress, you lifted your ass high, grasping the hem of your skirt and flipping it up. But dumb didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck, right? Only time would tell.

“Well, well, well…now if that ain’t the prettiest sight I ever did see. A woman showing some respect to authority, following an officer’s commands.”

Your pussy clenched, anticipation building at the sound of the door shutting, the lock clicking into place. The sound of cotton slipping over skin caressed your ears as he pulled his shirt off, a flash of green fabric in the corner of your vision.

Each step toward the bed was a thud as his heavy combat boots hit the floor. You squirmed. Your desire building, your need pulsing through you like the rumbles of an earthquake. You’d never been so fucking turned on in your life and he hadn’t even touched you yet. God, he better live up to the hype.

“Mmm, now that’s a peach I’d like to sink my teeth in…”

He was right behind you now and you jumped when his hand came down upon your flesh with a loud smack. Gator treated the opposite cheek to the same treatment, eliciting a whimper from you. His hand wrapped around your thighs, yanking them further apart, spreading you wide.

“My, my…” You gasped when his nose slid over your panties from the front to the back. “Damn darling, you smell just as sweet as you look. You taste just as good too?”

“Why don’t you put that mouth to good use and find out?” you teased, wiggling your ass back and forth for him, your need for him use his fingers, his tongue, his cock, fucking anything on you raging like an inferno. The heat was spreading over your skin until you were sure you would incinerate from it, nothing left but a pile of ashes on this bed.

Another smack came at your words, this time to your pussy, the impact vibrating throughout your entire body. You cried out, rocking your hips backward, damn near begging this man to give you more.

“Now, I thought we’d done and cleared this up, darling? It’s your mouth that needs something to do. Clearly you haven’t learned your less about talking back to your superiors.”

“I don’t work for you,” you snapped, unable to keep yourself from antagonizing him, wanting to push him over the edge, to push him to give you exactly what you wanted.

“Oh, well, I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m here the law of this land,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair, lifting you up off the bed. “Tonight you do work for me and you can start by getting on your knees.”

Leaning forward, you batted your eyelashes, smirking with a tilt of your head, “Make me, officer.”

His lips pouted to the side, his hand coming to the back of his pants. You could tell he was more excited than aggravated at your challenge. Most girls probably didn’t have the balls to talk back to him, too scared of that last name he carried around. When he revealed it again, a pair of handcuffs dangled from his fingers.

“Oh, we want to play like that? Alrighty then.” Roughly, he shoved you face first onto the bed. Pulling your arms behind you, you felt the cool metal snap around each wrist. “I can play like that.”

Not even waiting for your response, his fingers curled in your hair, tugging until you had no choice but to come off the bed, standing in front of him. Pulling again, he jerked your head so you were looking up at him. You gasped at the pain at your scalp and he used that opportunity to lick the inside of your mouth before pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking until it released with an audible pop.

“Now, I said on your knees.”

His hand dropped to the top of your head, pressing you down until you had no other option if you didn’t want to rupture a vertebrae. Gator stood, considering you, his head tilting one way and then the other. With a movement so fast you barely knew it had happened, his hands pulled at your shirt, ripping the buttons. Swiping at the fabric, nothing was left to conceal you from him besides scraps of black lace.

“That’s better. Wanna admire those tits while I watch that mouth apologize for talking back.” His zipper made a soft hiss before his pants dropped around his ankles. Gator slid one hand into his boxer briefs, pulling out his already hard cock, showing you that what you thought you saw was no exaggeration. This man was hung. “Now open up for me, mama.”

Eager to find out if this cock was everything you’d been told, you opened wide.

“Stick that tongue out for me. Oh…that’s a girl…”

He slapped the tip of his erection against your tongue a few times. You kept your mouth open as he slipped it inside, the tip running along each cheek. When his fist curled in your hair again, you worked to relax your throat, anticipating what was coming.

And Gator did not disappoint. He fucked your face, sending his cock straight back to kiss your tonsils. You gagged, your nose nuzzled against the coarse hair at the base of him. But he didn’t relent, doing it again, and a third time, his sack hitting your chin with each hard thrust into your mouth. His groans and grunts created a soundtrack of meal pleasure while his cock left no inch of your throat untouched until you felt like he would reach your lungs.

“Fuck, darling. That pretty little mouth is good for something other than being a smartass.” His hand eased in your hair, his other hand slipping along his length, pressing it against his stomach. “Gotta show the boys the same kind of love, now.”

You pressed your nose against the seam of his hip, dragging your tongue underneath. He hissed and you moaned, his sounds only furthering your desire. Your panties were absolutely soaked as you took first one and then the other of his testicles into your mouth, sucking and releasing with a loud pop.

“You are a dirty little slut, aren’t ya honey? You like sucking dick, don’t you?”

A moan was the only answer you gave him, your tongue now dragging over the side of his cock. Fuck, you wanted your hands free so you could touch him. Taking his length in your mouth again, you moved over him, his hips rocking forward to meet you.

“Look at me, honey. Yeah…fuck, you look so damn pretty with my cock in your mouth. Wrap your lips around it. Yeah, just like that…”

Tears streamed down your face as you took him as deeply as you could. You scraped your teeth gently over the sensitive skin and he jumped, growling before slamming to the back of your throat again in punishment. Just as his grunts were coming faster and you were sure he was close, he grabbed your hair, yanking you off him.

“Now to see if you taste as sweet as you smell.”

Heaving you over his shoulder, he tossed you to the bed, grabbing onto your hands and hooking the chain of the handcuffs over the bedpost, effectively keeping you restrained. Gator kicked off his pants and his boots before climbing on the bed. He roughly yanked off your panties and then pressed your knees, leaving you spread before him.

Lying on his stomach, he leaned in, inhaling deeply again, “Fuck, just like peaches. I’m telling ya. Now, you wanna see why all the girls talk about Gator, honey, because I’m gonna show ya.”

He didn’t just lick. He didn’t just suck. This man fucking feasted on you like you were a turkey dinner at Thanksgiving. You cried out, pulling at the handcuffs, your hips bucking up off the bed. Gator’s large hands landed on each of your thighs, pressing you down as he devoured.

“Fuck, Gator. Jesus…oh my god…that’s so good…so fucking good…” you whimpered, your hands opening and closing in desperate to grab onto his head and grind yourself against him. But you couldn’t. This man had all the control.

“Mmm…I told you, Gator knows his way around moist places, honey.”

Fuck. You hated that goddamn word. This man seriously had to come up with better descriptions for a woman’s pussy but not even that was enough to break you from the fucking ecstasy you were lost in as his tongue slid down, entering you. That glorious fucking nose, a nose that looked like it belonged on a Roman God continued to nuzzle deliciously over your clit as his tongue fucked you.

Your body was fucking humming. Gator was playing you like a violin and you were loving every goddamn note. When two thick fingers slid into you, pumping hard while his lips wrapped around your clit, you screamed his name, your thighs locking around his head. Your hips rocked up into him, your body desperately seeking sweet release.

“I’m gonna…oh shit…oh god…Gator…”

“That’s right. Come for me, mama. Come all over Gator’s face.”

The tension within you coiled so tightly, you thought you would snap and then snap you did. With a scream so loud you were sure the entire party had heard, your orgasm crashed over you, your back bowing off the bed.

“Jesus Christ…” you whimpered, collapsing.

“Mmm…” His lips pressed against your clit and you squeaked, jerking. “So fucking tasty.”

His chin glistened with your juices as he brought his two fingers to his mouth, slipping them inside, sucking the remains of your pleasure off. Your eyes fluttered closed, your body spent, completely wrecked after the most earth shattering orgasm of your goddamn life. The sound of foil tearing caught your attention and you opened your eyes to see Gator slipping a condom over his painfully hard cock.

“I ain’t done with you yet, mama.” Kneeling between your legs, he lifted one up, pressing it against his chest. “Gonna get nice and deep. I’m gonna hit places ain’t no other man ever hit.”

In one swift thrust, he entered you, stretching you, his cock filling you completely. Your eyes rolled back in your head, teeth clenched against the delicious burn. Gator did not wait for you to adjust to his size. He pounded into you, your skin slapping together harshly.

Pressing forward, he bent your leg toward you with the weight of his chest. The next thrust sent him in so deeply that you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You cursed, gasping his name.

“There it is…” he growled, rolling into you again and again, each time hitting a space that had you seeing fucking stars, planets, entire galaxies that you’d never explored but desperately wanted to.

“Jesus Gator…I’m gonna come again…I…so good…fuck…”

You wanted to grab his arms. You wanted to sink your fingers into that chest hair that was teasing you, tickling your nose. You wanted to rake your fingernails down his back. But you could do none of those things, the use of your hands taken from you.

A scream ripped from your throat as your second orgasm threatened to tear you apart. Gator didn’t cease his pace as your walls pulsed around him, pulling him deep.

“That’s it…fuck yeah…I’m a winner…” he grunted, hips slamming into you again. “I’m a winner, honey.” Sweat trickled down his face. “I’m a…” His mouth opened wide, his body shaking as he stilled above you, riding out his own release. “Winner,” he gasped. “I’m a fucking winner.”

Your eyes went wide watching him and you bit down on your lip, thinking it would be a very bad idea to laugh at him right now. Maybe he was an idiot but if he could give you orgasms like that, you’d be willing to overlook a few flaws.

“Those girls were right, weren’t they?” he demanded breathlessly. “Say it. Tell me they were right.”

“They were…they were right,” you breathed, struggling to catch your own breath. “You’re a winner, Gator.”

“Fucking right I am.”

#gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman fic #gator tillman smut #gator x reader #gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #smut #rough smut #obey me

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halfrican-heat · 9 months

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Upstanding Gentleman (Ony)

Onyankopon was raised in a strict Ghanian household. He was pretty strait-laced...until he met you, of course. Still, Ony has many tricks up his sleeve that never fail to surprise you.

A/N: Yes, I'm high. Hello. So, this is the second Ony post I've had lingering in the back of my mind. It's in head cannon format but I think this could be something. Enjoy!

Warning(s): Explicit Sexual Content; Depictions of smoking marijuana; Penetrative Sex (p in v), Oral Sex (M receiving), Sex in childhood home, Black reader in mind, N-Word used; AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect

Pairing: Sober!Onyankopon x Stoner!Reader

Inspired by: Lauryn Hill and my bf :)

Sober!Ony was raised by a single mother who kept him in line. No drugs, no alcohol and he definitely had a curfew.

Straight A student and graduated the top of his class in high school

Spent majority of his childhood playing video games and taking apart old computers his mother would bring home from her teaching job.

Played basketball and practiced frequently with his friends

Loved taking photos and drawing

Only smoked weed once when he was seventeen and felt guilty about it for a week before he told his mom. (She smacked his head but wasn't that mad)

Never had a thing for drinking. His mom let him have some wine during his graduation dinner. His uncle, later that evening, gave him some liquor. Ony wasn't a fan.

Sober!Ony who went to college in a different state-- hours away from his mother.

He chose to go to a school pretty far away from home to study photography. He loved his mom but he felt like he needed a firm separation from his home life and college life.

That's where he met you. This sweet little thing from a town he had never heard of. So cute...

...and yet you smelled like trouble. Ony's suspicions were confirmed when you offered him a blunt in your car one night. Y'all had been talking for a minute at that point but you never gave off stoner vibes.

Ony declined but didn't mind hanging out as long as you rolled the windows down.

Turns out, you were a huge stoner. Bongs, smoking pieces, a stash larger than some of the ones he had seen back home. You weren't a plug, not really, you just really loved weed. You were super smart, too. Ony had known people like you from back home-- motivated stoners who smoked frequently but it didn't impede them getting shit done. You were like that and Ony really liked that about you.

Ony wasn't sure how to proceed at first but...one thing was sure: You had a hold on Onyankopon that he just couldn't deny.

Sober!Ony who, four years into your relationship, isn't super sober anymore.

"Mama, let me get one of them fruity drinks out the fridge." "They got alcohol in 'em Ony," You call from the kitchen. "I ain't ask you all that. They taste alright-- I feel like a classy nigga drinking them." "Okay, Classy Nigga," You say, bringing him one. "Mister Classy Nigga to you," He says, with a wide grin. "Pinkies out, baby."

Sober!Ony who branched out after meeting you but didn't partake as frequently as you did.

"Let me get a hit, baby." "Nigga, you don't smoke!" Ony kisses his teeth, side-eyeing you. "Then do that shit where you kiss me and blow the smoke in my mouth." You laugh loudly, throwing your head back at his nerve. "Okay, baby," You say, sparking up. Afterwards "Shit, where my inhaler at?"

Sober!Ony who made a great impression on your parents. Perhaps too great.

Your dad loves him, speaking highly of him every time your boyfriend comes up in conversation. "That Ony is a fine, upstanding gentleman," Your dad alway says. Little does he know... "What's that, ma?" His voice is husky in your ear as he thrusts into you roughly. His hand is over your mouth as your childhood mattress squeaks under your weight. Ony has you bent over, his pace punishing as he fucks you from behind. Tears streak your face as you helplessly claw at your sheets "Better be quiet," Ony drawls. "Don't want your folks to hear us, right? Or they gonna know what a slut you are for this upstanding gentleman."

Sober!Ony who loves the way you give head while high.

After many extensive and deep discussions about consent, Ony finally lets you give him head. At first, he was chilling. But then... "Shit, baby! Fuck," He groans, his head falling back. "Slow down, ma." You got his cum on your cheek from the first time he came but you don't care. You don't let up, taking his length down your throat. You suck the entire way down, slurping as you pull back to swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. Your tongue runs along the vein underneath his shaft before taking him back in your mouth, hollowing you cheeks as you slurp him down. "Fuck," He hisses, throwing his arm over his face. You had that man's toes curling and all.

Sober!Ony who loves how sexy you are at any given time of any given day but especially loves when you're feeling yourself while off the za.

Now the skies could fall...not even if my boss should call... Your hips sway seductively to the music as you take a pull from the blunt, in your own world. Lauryn Hill blasts from the radio as your lights change colors in a slow fade. Ony stands at the door of your shared bedroom, watching you sing and dance. You turn slowly, finally noticing him. You wordlessly hold out a hand to him with your body still moving to the music. See I don't need the alcohol...your love make me feel 10 feet tall... He takes your hand, pulling your body close to his. His hands trail your body, finding your ass as the two of you grind on one another. Yeah, Ony is gonna take his time with you tonight.

Sober!Ony who loves you as much as you love him despite your differences.

"Papa, you seen my bong?" "Judie?" "No, the other one." "She in the kitchen cabinet, baby."

"Ma, you seen my screwdriver?" "The fuck you doing drinking those?" "Bae...the tool. My tool." "Oh, it's on the counter by the microwave." a moment later "Onyankopon, what the fuck did you do to my damn radio!"

Overall, Sober!Ony who has changed a lot since the two of you got together. As long as you don't give him any cause for concern, he's happy to let you do as you please (and partake when he feels like it). You level each other up in ways no one expected. You're his lady and Ony doesn't want any one else but you.

"C'mere, my lil pothead," He says, cuddling up to you in bed. "Shut up, nigga." "Watch your mouth. Now lemme rub my legs against yours..."

A/N: I had fun with this. Asks are open!

#Onyankopon x reader #Onyankopon x black!reader #aot x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon smut #Onyankopon fic #reader insert #black!reader insert #fan fiction for black women #black reader #Lyv Writes #My Writing #Ony's Observatory #Lyv's Library #Sober!Ony

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remember-the-fanfics · 3 months

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My writing is off because I had a sugar rush starting and then it went everywhere it wasn't planned to go but I went with it

◇Set before the pilot only because Alastor would kill the man before he came inside because he lacked any manners.♧

(Y/n) was arguing with someone who didn't actually wanted to work while under contract, usually would happen in their own territory but the sinner had sought them out while at the hotel.

(Y/n) and Angel Dust was sitting in the lounge, talking about their day until a sinner rushed in, loudly requested to get out of their contract. (Y/n) quickly try to deescalate the situation.

"Look if you want out, join the hotel to better yourself-."

"I ain't doing this rainbow fruity bullshit! You're working me to hard, I want out!"

"You, exactly Timothy Johnson, work less than 32 a week. That's around 6 hour a day for a five day week because you get the weekend off." Said (Y/n), getting stern.

"I just wanted the housin' and free shit."

"You knew what you signed, Timothy. I gave you multiple times to say no, you and I both set up the time for you to work. You have an easy job!"

"Customers are assholes, they ain't being respectful to me!" He said, lying which (Y/n) knew the moment he spoke. The young overlord made sure customer services wasn't a nightmare it was on Earth, sinners that live in (Y/n)'s territory knew to be respectful to each other because (Y/n) would know if someone wasn't.

"Respect goes both ways, Timothy. I know you never worked customer service before but you should atleast know not to try and fight a kid." (Y/n) said, who sat up straight. "I've already have alot of complaints, 5 from that incident alone, I could move you some other job..?"

"I want out of our deal, I don't wanna work for you." Said Timothy crossing his arms, not letting go of the topic.

"I cannot, you still have four years left." (Y/n) said, tired of arguing with the man infront of someone. "It haven't even a month..."

"You said you had a free trail-!"

"The first week was it and You said you were fine then! I checked up on you every two days, making sure everything was fine and it was."

"(Y/n), maybe you should just let him go. He seems like a waste anyway." Said Angel Dust. "He doesn't want your free shit so just drop him."

"N-no! That shit is still mine!" Said Timothy.

"It will be when the contract is over." Said (Y/n). "I made all of this very clear during the whole thing. I explained it and let you read it over before you signed anything." They stood up looking confused at Timothy.

"I must of skimmed over some parts." He said nervously. "I just wanted a place to sleep! Not dealing with a kid, who thinks that they can boss adults around."

"Nothing is for free, you either join the hotel and better yourself or stay under contract." Said (Y/n) before Angel Dust tried to ask.

"What will make him stay at the hotel-."

"Quiet, addict!" Interrupted Timothy pointing at Angel Dust. "No one cares what you say."

"Speak to him like again and no one will ever hear you say anything again." Said (Y/n) before Timothy decided to dig himself a deeper hole with a stupid idea.

"Oh. You actually care for the idiots at the dusty ass shack?" Said Timothy laughing. "I can't believe that!"

(Y/n) just glared at the sinner, they had feeling where this would go if they didn't do anything.

"Listen." They said in a voice they don't usually use, getting closer to Timothy, becoming taller."If you don't leave and go find a hole to die in, I will personally hand your soul off to someone who would find good use for it and it will not be easy like what I've been letting you do."

They were invading his personal space, Timothy swore he saw them everywhere afterwards.

"Understand? Then leave."

With a meek nod of approval, Timothy bolted away. After (Y/n) returned to normal, dusted themself off.

"I keep forgetting that you're actually an Overlord." Said Angel Dust after collecting himself from what (Y/n) just did.

"Yea- uh. Yeah, ugh that voice messes with my throat to much. But I'm sorry that happen infront of you usually sinners would wait till I get back to pester me." Said (Y/n) sitting back down.

"5 dollars he pissed himself."

"You're on."

Timothy will return for vengeance later (tomorrow) also lore on how you died because I need to write it.

#hazbin hotel x reader #platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #genz reader #like im already working on the next part #it wouldnt make sense for them to be together

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pedgito · 1 year

Note

Thinking of an modern! Eddie fic idea where the fruity for and the reader are all hanging out (doesn’t matter where) and the reader is flirting with a guy over text, she decides to go to the restroom and take some nudes but instead of sending them to the guy shes talking to she sends them to her best friend Eddie Munson who is sitting across from her. Eventual smut.

author's note: i took some liberties here and excluded the fruity four scenario, it just wouldn't fit the way this idea came to me so i hope you don't mind!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), modern!eddie, slightly inexperienced!eddie, confident!reader, established friendship, mentions of reader having lots of casual sex/partners, a little bit on pining/unrequited crushes, handjobs, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 3.4k

You can’t help but feel a little regretful when your phone dings for the millionth time that night, screen light illuminating the darkness of the room, the only other light source being the television position in front of you both.

Eddie was, hands down, your closest friend. He was the person you came to for everything, even slow nights like this when you just wanted to be around each other. And it could, from an outside perspective, look too codependent. But, if either of you were ever feeling sad or upset you always seeked out the other without hesitation.

Eddie felt ridiculous, practically on his hands and knees after school in an effort to have you come over tonight—it’s mostly for show, hoping to make you laugh, but you can see how desperately he needed it.

Still, the notifications on your phone aren’t immune to Eddie’s senses, his eyes dragging toward the phone set atop the coffee table that his feet are resting on, a quick succession of messages in one go.

He clears his throat softly, angling himself away slightly as you reach for the phone, looking back at him apologetically.

You weren’t always this inconsiderate, but Eddie never seemed to mind, not initially anyways.

It was pointless too, some bland conversation with a boy who was much too desperate to get in your pants—but you couldn’t lie to yourself, you were being just as promiscuous as you wanted to be, so the flirting ensues.

It’s not bad either, but it starts to blend together, things you’ve seen time and time again. And Eddie looks like he’s on the brink of passing out, head slumped in his hand and his lip pouting out slightly.

“You don’t have to stay,” He says quietly, his free hand tucked under his shirt, pressing against the warmth of his skin, “I get it.”

Did he, though? Or was he just trying to be nice?

Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him high and dry on a night that he really needed you. And usually you both would be cuddled up against each other, but that wasn’t how tonight was going. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or exhausted, maybe a mix of both.

“I’m not leaving,” You respond, half offended that he would even suggest it, “I just—I’m gonna deal with this so they’ll stop bothering me.”

Whatever that would entail.

“Okay,” He relents, his voice soft, “I’ll pause it if you want.”

The movie, pausing the movie—you glance at the screen and back at Eddie, shaking your head.

“I’ll be quick.” You assure him before fleeing down the hall to the tiny bathroom, unlocking your phone.

And while you don’t necessarily condone sending nude photos of yourself to people you barely knew, you weren’t exactly a stickler for following the rules. Plus, you were good about keeping any identifying marks out of the pictures, namely your face.

You can hear Eddie move around in the other room, his walls dangerously thin. The old couch creaks as he moves and then the front door is squeaking open and slamming shut a few seconds later.

Smoke break.

Well, that or he was giving you some privacy.

You get a text from Eddie a moment later confirming your suspicions.

‘Out front for a smoke if you want to join.’

Followed by another.

‘When you’re done.’

You sigh heavily, switching over to your camera and dealing with the pressing task at hand, lifting your shirt up just above your breasts, a thin and see-through material that gave the subtlest view of your nipples, the curve of your breasts pushed together deliciously—you had to give yourself some credit, they were absolutely picture-worthy.

You snap the picture quickly, fleeting before you overthink it.

But, it doesn’t feel like enough.

You reach your hands around to cup your tits, pulling them out of the material with ease so they sit perfectly on your chest, still slightly supported by the fabric bunched up underneath them.

Was it deserved? Maybe not. But, you couldn’t be bothered to second guess yourself, snapping the second picture and readjusting your clothes, phone scattering into the bowl of the sink as you set it down.

You did want to join Eddie, so you sent the pictures without checking, not realizing how detrimental of a mistake you made. The phone is shoved into your back pocket and you meet Eddie outside a few moments later, his back turned toward you as he puffed on the cigarette, nearly down to a stub.

You reach around him effortlessly, plucking it from his fingers and pressing it to your own mouth.

“You could’ve asked for your own,” He laughs lowly, a deep chuckle that makes you feel warm all over, “I was trying to finish that.”

“Too late,” You smile, pressing the cigarette to your lips and puffing it dead, “I never finish mine and you know it.”

Eddie smiles knowingly, twisting you gently to urge you inside.

“Quick, before we freeze.” He tells you, opening the door to lead you back inside, the butt of the cigarette falling from your fingers as Eddie snuffs it out with his boot.

“I really am sorry,” You apologize timidly, “I know this is supposed to be our time and—“

“Hey, it’s fine,” Eddie shrugs, poking at the frown line in your cheek as you look over at him, “you’re here, at least.”

Eddie grabs a few snacks and drinks to finish out the movie, letting you settle into the space between his legs on the floor, pillow pressed against his lap for you to lean against. He’s playing with your hair absently, your eyes drawn to the screen as he checks his phone, the insistent buzzing of an unchecked notification driving him crazy.

He could only guess it was Dustin bugging him about something only he and Eddie would understand, but it’s not.

It’s not that at all.

It’s your contact name: two pictures attached.

Eddie’s fingers freeze against your hair, but it’s lost on you.

He’s not an idiot, he knows. God, he fucking knows.

And because he loves nothing more than to torture himself, he braves the fear that riddles his body and unlocks his phone, faced with the last thing he could ever expect.

“Oh fuck.” He says quietly, mostly to himself.

“Hmm?” You inquire, not bothering to look back at him.

Eddie stammers, phone almost slipping from his hand.

It’s not the first pair of tits he’s been blessed to see in his lifetime, but it’s not like he’s being bombarded with them on a regular basis. He’s had sex once, seen a girl naked once, in person, not counting the porn he watches on a regular basis—and he’s still new to all of this. But, this feels invasive.

Yet, he couldn’t pull his eyes away.

The silence is digging at you and you turn slowly, hand pressed like a fire-hot brand against his knee that makes him jump, his eyes pulling up toward you.

They’re wide—shocked, lost, and the words that he wants to say are dead on his tongue.

“Eddie, is everything okay?” You ask, concerning flooding you at his state of emotion, “Is it Wayne?”

He could keep it to himself, never tell a soul and live with the fact that he’s a total creep, bound to jerk off to the pictures of you at some point—he’s never outwardly admitted his attraction toward you, but he doesn’t hide it either.

Eddie hasn’t tried to ruin the one good thing he has going on in his life because his dick is telling him so, it’s the one thing he prides himself over.

But, that’s quickly flying out the window.

“Hello,” You call out again, “earth to Eddie? You’re starting to freak me out now.”

Eddie rubs at his brow in exhaustion, forehead creasing as he flips his phone around, “I uh, don’t think these were meant for me.”

You look at him, confused, tearing the phone from his hands and suddenly your mouth is falling open, not a word to be spoken.

“I mean, I’m flattered but—I think it’s safe to assume I wasn’t supposed to see those,” Eddie rambles, “not that like, I wouldn’t want to, but I figured it’s probably better to tell you rather than you finding out later and thinking that I didn’t tell you for some other reason, not that there is…a reason.”

You smile widely at his dramatic rambling. He only ever did it when he was nervous, which was inherently clear now.

This was going…great, clearly.

“That’s–” You laugh uncomfortably, softly, “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

“No, no—don’t be,” Eddie interjects, “I’m not like I’m bothered or anything—“

“God, I’m so stupid,” You reprimand yourself, tossing the phone back into his lap, his hand tensed tightly into the fabric of the pillow when you move, a small thing you wouldn’t have noticed without the cause of current situation, but you ignore it for now, “you text me—and I didn’t even think to switch it back to the other conversation and I just sent it, like an idiot.”

“I’ll delete it,” Eddie says, reaching for the phone, “I’m going to delete it right now.”

“You already saw it, I don’t think it really matters.”

And it’s the first inkling Eddie gets that maybe you don’t mind—it was a genuine mistake, but you’re more panicking for the sake of Eddie, rather than yourself. Seeing your friend naked wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, but it wasn’t one Eddie had a problem with, not with him harboring such a deep crush on you.

“It feels wrong,” Eddie says, trying to laugh off how awkward things felt, “I mean, not that they’re bad photos—I think I should delete them.”

He shifts slightly, sitting up further as you turn to face him fully, knelt on the carpet at his feet—and that stupid, fucking pillow.

It’s covering the painful hard-on pressing against his jeans. Eddie hasn’t dealt with a situation like this since…well, ever.

Your eyes connect their briefly, the skin around his rings going white from his forcefully he’s gripping it, almost like he’s trying to rut into it secretly, relieving that silent ache.

“Should? Because you want to, right?” You check in with him, his fingers hovering over the delete button, staring intensely back at you.

“Yeah, of course.” He nods jerkily, “Friends don’t–don’t keep pictures like that, do they?”

He’s never been in such an unorthodox situation, learning the rules as he went. He never cuddled with friends or played with their hair, spent nights sleeping next to them in bed because the other was too tired to drive home–it’s a line you both have been walking on for a while, all that unspoken about tension collapsing in on itself.

“Only if they want to,” You tell, “You can–if you want to.”

“They weren’t meant for me.”

There’s a long beat of silence that has his heart racing in his chest, his face heating up.

“They can be.”

“But, what about–”

You shrug lightly, the light from the television shadowing around your face in a way that has Eddie mesmerized, caught up in the way you’re staring straight through him, your hand creeping toward his own, pulling gently at the fingers gripping the pillow.

“They were boring,” You tell him honestly, “and this is...a lot less.”

Eddie resists the pull for a moment, embarrassed by how easily he’s given himself over. It’s far from where he expected the night to go, and his internal monologue is screaming for him to say:

No. This won’t work. This can’t work.

“Eddie.” You say his name once, the tone in your voice telling him everything he needs to know.

Regardless of if this was a one time thing, you wanted it. And if all of this happened purely by chance, he’s thankful for the best goddamn divine intervention he’s ever experienced.

Eddie’s still speechless when you climb into his lap, thighs spread out over his own and his hands reaching around to squeeze at the wedge behind your knee, settling you more comfortably.

This was normal, no different than any other time that you’ve sat in his lap, but your hands are hovering, pillow tossed to the side. You can see how painfully hard his dick is from where it’s pressed up against the thick fabric of his jeans.

“I’m really trying not to make shit weird,” Eddie admits with a clipped laugh, “my body just kinda reacted.”

You shrug again, nonchalant. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Eddie glances down briefly, his hands rising up your thighs slightly, soft skin against rough denim. They squeeze at your hips, his gaze tilting back up toward you.

“What are we doing?”

It’s a question with a million and one answers, but you settle for something simple. Something Eddie can grasp and figure out himself.

“Whatever feels good,” You smile softly, pushing his long tresses behind his ears, the skin stained a deep red, “or we can go back to watching the movie and act like this didn’t happen.”

Eddie grips you a little tighter, like he might lose you.

“I can…help you out,” You suggest, glancing down with a mischievous grin, hands dragging toward the waistband of his jeans and tugging at the belt, “no stipulations or anything, unless you think it’ll go away on its own.”

“Probably–probably not.” Eddie admits. His morning wood wasn’t nearly as bad as this, but it always ended in him tensed up against the shower wall, fucking messily into the tight grip of his hand until he can finally find some relief.

You eye him wordlessly–he can see it in the way you light up.

A silent ‘Then?’ hanging between you both.

Eddie makes the first movie, surprisingly. His hands reach for his belt, unbuckling it with anxious fingers and sweaty hands, fumbling with the zipper until he can finally get it far enough down that he can wiggle his jeans down a bit. You lift yourself slightly to allow the action before settling back down, hands smoothed out over your own thighs. The aggressive tent in his boxers is lingering still–

“I’ve never done this before,” Eddie admits, “Like, without all the other stuff.”

And kissing didn’t feel right, too intimate for the situation despite how badly you wanted to touch him.

“You jerk off, right?” You ask, knowing the question is a little redundant. Of course he does.

He nods.

“So, I’ll just help,” You tell him, “or just watch, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Uh, no—I want,” Eddie nods slowly, looking up at you timidly, “I want you to help.”

There was no sense in him being shy, not with you. But, you get it—it’s uncharted territory, nothing either of you prepared for, but neither of you were turning down the opportunity. So, facing it head on seemed like the best.

“Okay,” You reply easily, dipping your hand between both of you to stretch under the material of his boxers, gripping him firmly. He’s hard, but everything about him is soft. You don’t dare a look, not yet, his eyes connecting with you briefly at the touch, his lips parting. It’s a soundless gasp, eyes pleasing silently, “is that fine?”

Eddie nods again, nose scrunching as you squeezed lightly, fingers rubbing over the fat head of his cock, the heaviness of him resting wonderfully in your hands.

“Might—might be easier if you take it out.” Eddie suggests, lifting his hips slightly to do just that, freeing himself to allow more room for you to move, bare skin pressed against denim.

You peek a glance down in the poorly lit room, flushed pink head disappearing under your grip as you fist him tightly, his hips rocking every now and then to meet your movements, his hands squeezing tighter and tighter against your hips, subconsciously rocking them in time with his. There’s no friction for you, but you don’t need it—this was about Eddie.

For now, at least.

“God, that’s so good,” He whines softly, head dipping back against the cushion as his eyes squeeze shut, “yeah—like that.”

Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth, rubbing testingly over the tip for a prolonged amount of time, precum drenching your hand until it’s sticky with slick, making a horrendously hot sound as your hand sinks down to the base and squeezes.

Eddie breathes uneven, a mix of a sigh and groan wrapped into one, voice cracking in the middle.

“Fuck, what are we doing?” He rambled, a sudden moment of revelation. “This is so—fuck—“

“Feels good?” You tease, “I’m having fun, Eddie—and I think it’s safe to say you are too.”

If the sounds he was making were any indication.

“You had other plans—didn’t you?” Eddie asks curiously, pausing in between words when things get too intense, his fingers digging into your back. It’s not painful, but you can definitely feel it.

“Maybe,” You shrug, “but you’re my best friend, Eddie—I’d do anything for you.”

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice sounding higher than usual.

“Mhm,” You nod, leaning over him slightly until your arm is pressed flush against both of your chests, the ridge of his cock rubbing against the front of your jeans at this angle—he’s so close to where he desperately craved to be, but still far enough away that it hurts. “Anything.”

“Fuck, I’m almost there.” He warns, feeling ashamed at how easy it was to work himself up. “Don’t wanna make a mess.”

You’re quick, using your free hand to lift your shirt over your head, hand leaving him for a brief second—he almost pouts, the feeling flagging slightly as his orgasm approached, but then he’s got your breasts in full view, pressed tightly against the intricate lace of your bra.

He really can’t take it, his hand cupping over your own as you return your grip around his cock, just as furious and tight as before, guiding you down as he likes, bringing himself closer and closer.

“Can’t believe you,” He says aloud, not for any reason in particular, “—doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

You laugh softly, hand sifting into his long curls and gripping at the root gently, he moans softly, eyes boring into your own.

“Depends,” You start menacingly, “how much are you enjoying it?”

He snorts softly, “Too much.”

His eyes linger toward your breasts, follow the slow rise and fall of your chest, the thin gold chain that dips between your cleavage and holds a similar guitar pick to the one he wore, a gift for you after a year of friendship.

It wasn’t because he wanted to see you dawning a piece of himself, it wasn’t that at all. But, you wore it proudly.

You smirk knowingly, guiding him toward your chest encouragingly until his mouth latches into your skin, his hands sprawling out against your back.

It was the push he needed, confidence surging through him as he mouthed at the swell of your breasts, fingers dipping around the cups to stretch the material down, revealing the softened bud of your nipples as they harden in real time, the breeze hitting them immediately.

Eddie comes with his face buried against your chest, panting into your skin hotly as he stifles the lengthy groan that escapes him, rocking into your joined hands with the aftershocks as his come hits your stomach.

He lets out a weak noise, somewhere between surprise and disbelief, sprinkled with an astute feeling of real exhaustion.

“Fuck me,” He groans, reaching blindly for the shirt you hand him, wiping away the mess he’s made without question. He can only assume you don’t mind, given that you so freely handed it to him, “that was…intense.”

You chuckle, climbing off of his lap slowly, adjusting your breasts back into the confines of your bra.

“Still want to finish the movie?” You say jokingly, but he almost seemed pleased that you asked.

“If you don’t mind—“ Eddie laughs slightly, adjusting himself back into his pants, leaving his jeans undone, “I didn’t get on my hands and knees earlier for nothing, you know.”

“Fine, but—“ You point at his wrinkled shirt, yanking at the fabric gently, “I’m gonna need something to wear, since, well—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waves you off slightly, a grin splitting over his features, “or?”

It’s a challenge, a brave question to propose in a situation like this.

“I’m not sure you can handle me, Munson.”

“Try me.”

It’s no surprise, Eddie knows you better than anyone. If there was anyone to take you on, it was him.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #my writing

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1d1195 · 1 year

Text

Zipper

Hi hi, sorry for the short break there. I've been working on this the last three days and it flowed out quite quickly to 9.5K words.

Warnings: Harry doesn't like her (or does he), there's a damsel in distress scene implying SA nothing happens nor described but could be triggering, "enemies" trope, Harry wears a lot of suits and is angry a lot.

Disclaimer: Everything I know about lawyers comes from TV shows.

Harry was a smart guy, but he truly hadn’t a clue as to why he was so mad at the prospect of liking her.

So, he pretended he didn’t. “You and Harry are together an awful lot,” his friend Niall said to her with a smirk once. They were in clear earshot of Harry, and nothing made Harry crankier than knowing his friends saw how mean he was toward her. It was the topic of many conversations over video games and while working out at the gym.

“Enough, Niall,” he muttered. “It’s not by choice.”

“Don’t know why he’s all grumpy about you all the time, princess,” Niall said quietly to her when his back was turned. “He talks about you more than any girl I’ve ever seen him with.”

“He just doesn’t like me much,” she explained.

“Oh, princess. I think it’s quite the opposite.”

Harry hated her. She could never figure out why. She and Gemma were on the same soccer team growing up, so she’s known Harry for forever. Because she and Harry were of the same caliber in school (and the same age), they were always in each other’s classes. Always in group projects together.

It made her wildly popular in school to know the one and only Harry Styles so closely—and she did. She knew he wouldn’t drink tea past four in the afternoon. He liked chocolate candy better than fruity candy. Any time he saw a dog while they were on their way to study together, he would dig a bag of little treats out of his backpack to give away. When his left eye got droopy it meant they had to take a break and she would always recommend some hot chocolate or lemonade (depending on the season) at the coffee shop near the town library.

However, their conversations never delved too deeply. She knew his birthday but not his favorite color—she suspected it was blue or maybe orange because most of his pens were blue and his highlighters were almost always orange. Of course, she knew Gemma and Anne, but she didn’t know what their relationship with Harry was like. Because of school, she knew most of his political opinions—and big shocker, they were roughly the same as hers—but she didn’t know his favorite music or if he liked to sleep with a fan on or not. When he was sick, she didn’t know if he liked sleep or soup. If it was his last day on earth, she doesn’t know how he would spend it. They weren’t things that she necessarily needed to know to define their friendship, but somehow, in her eyes, they were.

Other than school mandated projects, she was convinced Harry wouldn’t give her the time of day. “Can we jus’ get this over with?” Was Harry’s mantra around her during their school days.

She wished they could be friends.

She didn’t want to be that girl, but it was impossible not to be. Harry was beautiful and he was nice—just not very nice to her. She didn’t fault him for it, she wasn’t his cup of tea and that was fine. The way other girls sighed and ahh-ed over him made her jealous. She couldn’t do that. Harry was Gemma’s brother and her peer and that was it.

Needless to say, their lives were clearly going to be attached for the rest of their lives. They were like a coat zipper. They met when they were young and as they slid the zipper to the top more pieces of their life meshed. At first it was soccer with Gemma, then it was school in general, projects and friend groups, and now it was university.

Of course, they were going to get degrees in history and law.

Of course, they would have classes together.

Of course, Harry would be at every party she was invited to.

She knocked on the door to the party her friends were invited to, and she waited as the door opened. “God you’re everywhere,” he muttered taking a swig of the drink in his hand. He opened the door wider to allow her and her friends in and walked away without mingling a moment longer. She sighed and stepped through the threshold while her friends filed in behind her.

“You know Harry?” One of her friends gasped.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Grew up together,” she said heading for the kitchen to get a drink. There was a barrage of questioning. The interrogation of how well she knew him, if he was single—he was, as far as she knew—and so on. “He doesn’t like me much,” she shrugged.

“Shut up,” her friend said. “He likes everyone.”

“I’m not sure what to tell you. I’m not everyone.”

They were kind enough to let the conversation drop. But their eyes darted back forth between the two of them whenever they were remotely in the same realm as one another. Harry was never outrightly mean to her. He never made fun of her and never talked ill of her. They talked about school projects and assignments and classes and that was it.

Harry’s friends all really liked her. Of course, they liked her. There wasn’t anything to dislike about her. She was brilliant, incredibly kind, and naturally nurturing. It made Harry nauseous most of the time. He hated she could be so kind all the time—even when he was a dick to her. It made it all the harder for him to not like her.

It was halfway through the semester when her phone vibrated with a message from Harry. She could feel the confusion wrinkling her face as she brought the phone closer to her face as if it was a trick. Harry never texted her. If there was a school project that needed doing, he was highly professional and would only email her. The only reason she had his number was because Gemma gave it to her when her phone was broken, and she was her ride to their soccer tournaments.

Could you read my essay?

Surely this was a trick. She couldn’t help but ask. Really?

Yeah. The response was immediate. Obviously, nothing special. She could practically feel his annoyance through his text bubble.

Sure.

Thanks. Conclusion needs work, I know.

The conclusion may have needed work, but it was a pretty good essay otherwise. A few grammatical errors and a rewording of a paragraph or two and his essay was finished. She didn’t question why Harry asked her. Surely, he had plenty of friends that would be willing to read it over.

His seeking her out was quite the surprise to her, but to Harry it made the most sense. At some point in time, maybe in year ten, he realized that he was probably stuck with her for a good long while. There was no denying she was smart—in fact, Harry thought she was brilliant. Probably smarter than him on any given day. And again, that agonizing kindness made him sick. He knew she would read his essay because she was so nice. If Harry acted the way he did to anyone else but her, they wouldn’t give him the time of day.

But he also didn’t trust anyone else in the world to read his work and know what it needed like she did.

She took all the essay reading to mean it was okay to ask him for school favors as well.

Do you have notes from the history lecture yesterday? I wasn’t feeling well.

I’ll email them to you.

Thank you.

Harry took good notes. She wouldn’t have asked anyone but Harry because she knew they took notes the same way. Of course, they did. If anything, his notes were neater because he typed just as fast as their professor spoke while she preferred to handwrite so she would remember better.

Do you know what our professor meant by this?

She sent him back a picture of her own notes with a marking around the part that Harry was referring to. This was my interpretation, but I emailed him to double check, I’ll let you know what he says.

Thanks.

Harry looked at her notes on his phone again and admired her handwriting. He doesn’t know how she was able to write so much so quickly during their lectures. He saw her shake her hand out every time their professor paused to answer a question or catch a breath. She had pretty handwriting.

The parties they attended together (not on purpose, just by happenstance) were when Harry was at his meanest. He would roll his eyes at her if she was part of a drinking game. Harry’s eyes shot daggers whenever any guy tried speaking with her, always there to remind her of some project they had to do, and he didn’t want to be stuck doing it himself. None of it clicked to her that he was jealous.

Of course, he was. She was the prettiest and nicest girl he knew, and he was mad.

Harry was a smart guy, but he truly hadn’t a clue as to why he was so mad at the prospect of liking her.

“Enough, Niall,” he muttered. “It’s not by choice.”

That stung, made her face warm in embarrassment, but it was partly true. They were practically stuck together. Zipped together by some life force. “Don’t know why he’s all grumpy about you all the time, princess,” Niall said quietly to her when his back was turned. “He talks about you more than any girl I’ve ever seen him with.”

She shrugged it off. It would make sense, he talked about her so much. Other than her roommate she probably saw Harry more than her own family. “He just doesn’t like me much,” she explained.

“Oh, princess. I think it’s quite the opposite.”

Gem suggested I ask if we could carpool home. Save her a trip.

Yeah, of course.

Thanks.

“Do you like her?” Niall asked Harry. “Like, she’s really nice and pretty. Obviously, she’s very smart so—"

He cleared his throat to hide the gasp that nearly left his lips. “What?” He asked, slipping his phone back into his pocket. They were at the library whispering to each other while studying for finals. He could see her in the back corner, headphones in her ears and answering his message almost as soon as he sent it. He was certain she would ace all her exams, no problem at all.

“Your friend from home,” he tilted his head to the girl in the corner. “Do you like her?” He repeated.

Harry shook his head. “No.”

Niall quirked an eyebrow at him. “S’weird...you’re kind of perfect for each other.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled. He wanted no part of it. Sure, she was nice and sweet, and in the right light Harry couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by how pretty she was. But he didn’t want to be with someone he’d known his whole life. He wanted someone he didn’t know—someone that didn’t know his every thought. He wanted to discover a new relationship where he would find someone that didn’t know everything there was to know about him.

Regardless, if he knew all too well that she would be perfect for him.

*A few years later*

“This will be your office,” the sweet secretary informed her. She wasn’t a young secretary, but she wasn’t old either. Somewhere in the middle—she reminded her of her mom and that eased her worry of her new job fresh out of school. “I heard you know your office neighbor here. He gave you a glowing recommendation saying “the bosses would be fools to not hire you” I believe was how he phrased it. They’re all very excited to have you on board.”

She blinked, setting her box down of trinkets she collected ready to have her first big job. A list of clients sat on her desk. She was ready to get started—eager even. Excited and nervous all at once. The box of trinkets would make her office homier and she started setting out the calendar and picture frames as she shook her head at the woman helping her get the lay of the land. “That can’t be right, my professors did my recommendations...I can’t imagine my professors saying that about me,” she chuckled nervously. “I think they liked me and all but—”

“No, no!” She interrupted with a giggle. “Pardon me, one of your references, Harry; Harry Styles,” she smirked.

Blinking in surprise, she felt her lips part in a breathless gasp. She had asked Harry as a parting gift of sorts if he’d be willing to be a reference for her on her job applications. “I don’t think anyone really knows my work ethic the way you do,” she admitted. “I understand if you don’t want to, I’d be willing to be a reference for you as well either—”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “No problem. That’s probably a good idea. Thank you.”

“Harry works here?” She asked, completely dumbfounded. She shouldn’t have been. She should have known of all the gin joints. Her heart pounded and the air in the room felt thin. When she had sent her applications and resumes out to every firm in the area, she didn’t dream that she would still be side by side with Harry. There were easily fifty or so firms in the city. There was no way the length of their lives on this zipper extended to work post-graduation.

“I thought that was why you applied here. Harry made it seem like you both—”

“Hi,” speak of the devil. She wanted to know the end of that sentence. The idea that Harry made it seem like anything was between them—friendship, collegiate respect, anything—seemed paradoxical.

But here he was in all his brilliant and handsome glory.

Harry looked effortlessly beautiful and nearly seductive standing in her office doorway. He was wearing a suit, but it looked like it was nearly painted on him—hugging each of his defined arms and seemed to stretch perfectly over his long legs. Throughout their schooling and university, she wondered when he had time to hit the gym because he didn’t go while she walked on the treadmill and read her textbooks—the one time the zipper of life skipped over their meeting. But it was obvious he had found time. Again, she wasn’t immune to his good looks and persona. She had seen him be nice and lovely to everyone he knew time and time again.

Just not her.

His hair was styled just so, and she could practically see the sweet secretary swooning at the sight of him. “Welcome,” he said. He looked like a kid to her. As if his mom told him to say hi and wish her a happy birthday or something even though he didn’t want to. He smiled weakly at her. It felt forced.

“Hi,” she answered, still in shock.

He nodded at her and left without another word. “He’s dreamy,” she said with an all too familiar sigh. “I don’t know how anyone gets any work done around here.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe he works here.”

“I completely assumed he told you about the position...His friend is one of the senior partners,” she shrugged. “Louis?” She said. “I think Louis’ younger sister knows of you both or something.” She tilted her head at the woman. “I know everything,” she shrugged.

“You sure do,” she smirked. “Uh...no, I didn’t know Harry worked here.”

“I think it was Harry’s plan along with Louis or whatever—since they were young. They hang out a lot here.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t mean to say Harry’s the reason you got the job—your qualifications are outstanding and—”

“No, no, you’re fine,” she promised. “I know what you meant.”

Poor Harry.

For the most part though, the two rarely interacted. They would run into each other in the break room or near the copier in the storage room. On one occasion Harry asked her to read over his outline for a case to make sure he hit all the major components of what he needed to do. Every so often Harry would bring her tea and not say anything at all to her. She found it odd and thanked him even though he never spoke to her.

She was oddly comforted by the fact he was just one room over.

There was a gentle knock on her door before it opened. “Some of us are getting Chinese food and I noticed you’ve been holed up all day—are you okay?” Harry appeared speaking the longest sentence that wasn’t about schoolwork or a case in their entire life. And he even asked about her well-being.

She wasn’t okay. She had a headache, something fierce. It started at the bridge of her nose, gripped the back of her eyes, and was reaching for the back of her head. “Yeah,” she murmured not looking up from her papers on her desk. Her voice sounded weak and scratchy. How long had it been since she looked up? Her neck felt cramped as she raised her head slowly to look at Harry. She wished she had a glass of water.

“Kitten...y’don’t look so good,” he said quietly.

“M’okay...M’jus not feeling so well,” she shrugged. “But I have to get this done,” she told him. “I think I skipped lunch,” if she could fathom the idea of using any part of her brain for something other than this case, she would have noted how Harry so sweetly called her kitten.

He sighed, almost annoyed and she briefly wondered what she did wrong now. He disappeared for a moment. Within an instant he came back with water, pills, and a protein bar. “I’ll get some Chinese for you too.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled glancing briefly at how pretty he looked in his suit and how kind it was of him to bring her medicine. “I’ll Venmo—”

“Shh,” he said and turned off the overhead light of her office as he left. Leaving her in darkness except for the desk lamp to her left. “Try a nap on the couch,” he said. “I’ll wake you when the food is here.”

“Kitten,” he said softly. He gently shook her, and she tried to remember if Harry had ever touched her in their entire lives. The smell of greasy, salty food woke her up the rest of the way. Harry seemed to know her Chinese food order. She searched her memories if they ever ordered Chinese together and how he remembered.

“How’d you know what to get?” She asked stupidly. She could blame the headache or the lack of sleep if he said something mean about it.

He didn’t. “Your friends ordered at a party junior year,” he shrugged. “Remembered what you liked.”

“Oh.” He waited until she was upright and eating—staring at her like one of their science experiments from school. “Do you want some—”

“No, just making sure you actually eat.”

She felt her face warm, and she shook her head. “Uh. Thanks, that’s not necessary.”

“Well clearly it is if y’forget t’eat lunch and make yourself sick.” Again, her face heated up, but she said nothing because he was right. “What are you working on, anyway?” He asked. “That you’re skipping lunch and everything.”

“Uh...I just want to make a good impression and make sure I’m doing everything I can.”

“I’ve never known you to not give a hundred and twenty percent, love. If anyone has a question about your qualifications, you can send them to me.”

“How come you get to act like a partner?” She asked. “M’not jealous or anything—I’m just wondering why—”

“Louis always said I was brilliant or whatever,” he said casually with a shrug. He wasn’t bragging. He was just stating a fact. It was true too. Harry was brilliant. “I always told him it was because I worked with you, but he didn’t believe me. So, when he saw m’name as a reference on your application, I told him he would understand it was your brilliance that helped me be so successful and if he didn’t hire you, it would be a terrible mistake in his career because you would go be perfect and wonderful somewhere else. He’s seen your work, trust me, kitten. He knows how hard you’re working and you’re making an unbelievable impression. You don’t need to skip lunch t’prove your worth.”

This by far was the kindest thing Harry ever said of her—maybe anyone had ever said of her. She was speechless. Maybe it was the sleep still on her brain. Or the pain in her head that caused Harry to turn off the lights, so it was dark and quiet in her office. Or maybe it was because Harry finally said something sweet about her. But she finally worked up the courage to ask a question that had bothered her for their entire lives. “How come you don’t like me?” Her voice was so quiet it pained Harry.

He shook his head. “I like you,” he said with an eye roll. She wondered if it was no longer hard for him to lie like that. Countless people must have asked him over the years. Certainly, by now he perfected the tone and emotion needed to get people off the subject.

“Not really,” she said with sigh. When they were younger it definitely upset her more that Harry disliked her so much. When people asked she would feel a sting come behind her eyes because it would have made all the sense in the world for Harry to be her best friend. Now, it was just a matter of fact. NaCl was salt, flowers bloomed in spring, and Harry didn’t like her. “It’s fine...” but her voice cracked just a hair like it used to when she was asked about why Harry didn’t like her at all. “I just...I don’t know. We would have been really good friends if you did...that’s all,” she gave a small shrug eating another bite of her food.

“You want to be friends?” He questioned, surprised. Even though he was a dick to her she wanted to be friends. She seemed to be a glutton for punishment.

“Well,” she cleared her throat pushing her orange chicken through her fried rice as a distraction. “I guess we’re kind of old to be asking that,” she said quietly. “We just spent a lot of time together growing up. I think it would have made sense,” she explained. It felt like she was arguing another case, it was far more awkward though and while she would have liked to win, she didn’t know if it was worth it. “It’s fine...you don’t have to be my friend. Thank you for the food.”

“Kitten, I,” he sighed and ran his hand over his face pinching his lower lip between his fingers. She could tell from the tone in his voice he was exasperated by her. She should have just eaten faster and let him leave without the third degree. “We can be friends.”

She blinked at her food and then turned to look at him. “We can?”

He tilted his head at her and rolled his eyes. “Would it make you happy?” He asked.

She was lucky her brain wasn’t fully functioning due to the lack of food. That was a weird question for him to ask. Harry never once cared if she was happy or not the entire time that she knew him. “Yes.”

“Then we can be friends.”

Despite their newly found friendship, she tried not to overwhelm Harry. They made small talk when they ran into each other at the office. About once a week Harry would text her asking if she would like to carpool to work and she politely declined because again, she didn’t want to bother him.

“Hey, I’m going to meet a client at Starbucks, do you want any coffee when I get—oh,” she said softly. For the entire time she’d known Harry, she had never seen one hair out of place. Not one shirt collar unpressed. A shoelace never untied.

Right now, Harry’s hair was clearly the result of running his hand through it several times over, his eyes rimmed red, and his papers on his desk distributed haphazardly on the floor. “Go away,” he grumbled looking at the ground.

“Harry, are you alright?” She asked quickly closing the door behind her.

“Fine,” he spit. “Just leave.”

“Uh, no,” she swallowed the nervousness down. She thought about how nice he was when she wasn’t feeling well. She wanted to return the favor if she could. Whatever his outburst was about, she wanted to help. “You don’t look okay. What’s wrong? Can I help—”

“No,” he said firmly.

“Harry, seriously.”

“M’mum was in a car accident, Gem called,” he snapped. He had his head hung low as he pressed his hands to the back of his head. “I have a disposition in an hour and Mum’s in surgery. Okay. Are you happy?”

She blinked. No, she wasn’t happy. But she knew why he snapped. That answered her question about what his relationship with his mom was like. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever,” he sniffed.

“Harry...you...you should go to the hospital.”

God she was infuriating; this friendship thing was a stupid idea. She was too nice and sweet. “Did you not—”

“Harry, it’s your mom,” she reminded him. He looked up at her, again the startling contrast of his usual put together self and this...broken man made her weak. She wanted to pluck every piece of pain from his body and put it somewhere that would never find him again.

“I know!” he nearly shouted. “I can’t leave though,” he said softer than his shout. It was agonizing, she knew it was breaking him.

“I can do your disposition Harry. You have to go to the hospital.”

“You don’t know the case.”

“Give me the highlights.”

He looked up finally, right in her eyes and stared at her. “You would really do this?” He asked. She nodded. “What about your client?”

“I’ll reschedule. This is more important.”

“I can’t lose this one.”

“I’ll do my level best,” she promised. “Trust me.” He did. Implicitly. All the school projects, every presentation, any time Harry forgot something he knew she wouldn’t. She was always there to make everything they did better. “Just go and don’t worry about this.”

Harry sucked his lip into his mouth as she put the phone to her ear and quickly told the other end of the line she had to reschedule because of a family emergency—but she left out that it wasn’t her family. They could do dinner this evening if she’d like on short notice or coffee tomorrow. It was done with ease and grace. The client at the other end didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “I don’t think I can do this,” Harry admitted; he wasn’t sure he would tell anyone else that except the girl he had known for his whole life. In Harry’s eyes, no one knew him better—even if she didn’t know it. “This client is very particular, and he’s mean and—”

“I can handle mean,” she said firmly. Harry wasn’t in the headspace to realize she could handle mean because of him. “Harry, you’re going to the hospital. You won’t do a good job if your mind is on your mom and you’re worrying the whole time. Then you’ll be worried you’re ruining the disposition so just let me help.”

He nodded solemnly. She was right, of course. She waited for him to make his decision. His knee bouncing the whole time as she picked the papers off his floor, and she organized them into neat little piles on his desk. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she said and pulled her phone from her purse. “Hit me,” she said holding the phone out to him ready to record.

Harry arrived at the hospital. Gemma was in tears but in such shock as she gazed at her arriving brother. “Are you really here?” She asked hugging him tight. He nodded, squeezing her hard.

“How’s Mum?” He asked ignoring her obvious question that he would never willingly leave work—especially if he had an important meeting.

“She’s okay,” she said, eyes red and teary. She nodded firmly. “It was really scary because they wouldn’t say until I got here. Surgery is needed but not life or death,” she explained. “She’ll be ready to see us in a few moments.”

Harry sighed with relief and sat in the waiting room chair. “Christ,” he muttered.

“I thought you had a disposition?” Harry quickly explained the situation and that the sweet girl was taking care of it. “You work with her?” Gemma asked. Harry nodded.

“Yeah, why?”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re...paired again. It’s just fate, y’know?” She mumbled. “S’nice you have her to look after you. To have someone you know and trust nearby,” she told her younger brother. “I love her,” she said with a shrug. “Even if you don’t.”

Harry ignored her. He was focused on his mom. He was relieved she was okay. But he wanted to see her.

His phone vibrated with a text from her. She promised an update as soon as the disposition was finished.

All done. Went well. I left notes on your desk. Let me know if you need anything. Wish your mom and Gem well. Don’t worry about anything else here.

Thank you, kitten.

“Kitten, hmm?”

“Yeah.”

Harry locked his phone. When they went to the room where his mother lay looking banged up but alive, he nearly cried. “Hi Mum,” he sniffed.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she smirked easily. Nearly unaffected by the wires and tubes. “How’d you get out of work?” Gemma was delighted to tell the tale of the sweet girl. “Oh, I love her,” Anne grinned tiredly. “Why didn’t you ever bring her home, Harry?” She wondered. Harry started to answer but the arrival of a get-well basket on behalf of that sweet girl made its way through the threshold halting all of Harry’s thoughts of an excuse.

Because he really didn’t know why he never brought her home.

At the company party Harry eyed her from across the way. They were definitely friendlier, but Harry was hedging his bets. First and foremost, he was still hesitant to be in love with her. She was perfect and if he thought for two seconds longer, he would realize his stupid idea that he shouldn’t be in love with someone he’s known his whole life wasn’t his issue. Perhaps his issue was that she was perfect, and Harry was not. It seemed cruel for fate to tempt him like that. But maybe there was a reason she was so heavily involved in every aspect of his life.

Harry also wasn’t blind to the implications of dating a coworker.

But most importantly to him, she was so good at everything he couldn’t imagine being a subpar boyfriend when she deserved the very best. Harry didn’t even know how to be a boyfriend. Because of all the schoolwork he focused on he rarely dated anyone longer than a few dates or the occasional hookup.

And he had seen her in action as a girlfriend. Their junior year of university she dated a guy that she obviously adored for nearly a year and a half. She was naturally perfect. Went to every basketball game he was in, brought him soup when he wasn’t feeling well, and looked over his work for him before he turned it in. He was exactly what Harry imagined her boyfriend would be like. Attractive, hardworking, and very sweet to her. They met at the gym while she was studying for her ethics class on the treadmill (he only knew this because he told the story at a party, they both attended and Harry was intently listening).

The only problem Harry had with him—besides the fact he was dating the girl he spent so much time with—was he was not ambitious, and he never planned any of their dates. Harry hated him. She deserved flowers and coffee dates. Ice skating and movies. Once while she was on the phone with her sister when Harry was arriving at one of their study sessions, he knew she wanted a carriage ride around the park at Christmas. It wasn’t hard to figure out, so he was glad when he found out she broke up with him. Even if Harry didn’t like her, he knew she deserved more than that.

“Harry!” It was the client he had to skip out on for his mum the other day. “How’s your mum?” He asked.

“She’s fine, thank you. I’m sorry for the short notice of me not being there,” he said seriously.

“I was mad as hell when she told me you left. I think I screamed at her,” he admitted. Harry didn’t like that at all. The way his blood boiled at the idea of anyone yelling at her made him want to punch his client. Harry never thought himself a violent person, but here he was angry on behalf of a girl he only barely liked. It made him even madder that she didn’t mention anything at all about getting yelled at either. “But she was incredible! You can leave me with her anytime—she was brilliant and poised. I don’t think anyone suspected anything she had to say.”

“Yes, she’s very good,” Harry murmured around a sip of his drink. He was right, too. No one ever suspected the sweet girl to know anything. She was all eyes and beauty. She was softspoken, but her words carried weight. It would be entirely unfair for her to be exceedingly intelligent too. But she was. Harry hated the way people underestimated her, especially when they were paired together. It was like they thought he was only paired with her because she was pretty.

“She’s easy on the eyes too,” he winked at Harry. Harry gripped his drink tighter as he envisioned shattering the glass over top of his head.

“Ha, yeah.”

“Well thank you. I’m glad your mum is okay. I’ll keep you posted about the next meetings,” he said.

Harry nodded. “Have a drink on my tab, please,” he said gratefully.

Harry was suddenly at her side. “You didn’t tell me he yelled at you,” he said interrupting whatever conversation she was in currently.

“Uh, sorry,” she said softly clearing her throat to the gathering that eyed Harry like they’d never seen a man before. It was clear the interruption didn’t bother them solely because Harry was the one interrupting and it gave them an excuse to ogle him up close. She was lucky she spent so much time with him growing up. She could ogle at her own leisure. “Excuse me,” she grabbed Harry by the forearm, and he swore it felt like fire where she touched him. He wracked his brain for a memory if she ever touched him before this moment. “Come again?”

“My client. He told me he yelled at you. You didn’t tell me that.”

“Uh...you were kind of busy Harry. I’m used to getting yelled at, it wasn’t a big deal to—”

“Who yells at you?” He asked quickly. “Why would they yell at you?” Harry felt his blood boiling and he didn’t really know why. He wanted to put her in his office and monitor every interaction she had with anyone else in the world. She should never be yelled at—he would be sure of it going forward.

“Well clients mostly, my sister, you, this woman yelled at me one time at the grocery store—”

“I’ve never yelled at you.”

“Yes, you have,” she shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. We work in a business of yelling, Harry.”

He wanted to throw his glass across the room now. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“Seriously?” She asked.

“Seriously, what?”

“It’s really okay, Harry. I’ve been yelled at before.”

“But you shouldn’t be,” he was exasperated again. It was a quick switch to get to this breaking point of her complete non-understanding of why he was mad. But she didn’t really know why he was mad, and it was unfair of Harry to be so agitated by her when he didn’t even know why he was mad.

“Harry,” she said gently and put a hand on his forearm and gave him a squeeze. She gazed at him with those beautiful, lovely eyes and Harry could feel himself melting at the sweet expression on her face. “It’s okay,” she promised. He tore his arm from her and stalked off angrily sipping his drink before he did something like tell her she loved him.

So much for friends. She thought to herself.

Harry never really avoided her at firm parties. But he seemed like he was at this one. She hadn’t seen him in a while, and it oddly made her uncomfortable to not knowing where he was. She supposed since she had been with him for nearly 20 years of her life, when he wasn’t around, she knew. It didn’t make the party any less fun nor did it deter her from chatting with potential and current clients.

“Hello there,” a man said while she waited for her drink at the bar. She could tell he had too much to drink. It was another member of their team. Someone she saw on a very rare occasion. His client load was substantial and kept him busy and away from the office most days.

“Hi,” she said politely. He was a tall man. And with the alcohol coursing his bloodstream he knew very little of personal space.

“You’re very pretty,” he slurred. Her face felt hot at his assessment, and she wished she wasn’t by herself.

“Thank you,” she said gently and walked toward a group of the women she was chatting with before she headed to the bar to get another drink.

“I’ve seen you around,” he said following her another step. “You’re very smart.”

“Try to be—I have to get back to my friends,” she said gesturing to the women nearby. He frowned but she could feel his gaze on her back as she hurried back over. Fortunately, he was gone when she glanced back.

At the end of the party, she told her friends she was going to use the restroom before she left and not to worry. She would see them on Monday. What she hadn’t accounted for was the stupid drunk man to be in the darkly lit hallway leading to the bathrooms when she exited. “Hello, again.”

Shit.

“Hi,” she said gently. She sounded a lot braver than she was. There was no one in sight at all.

“I wanted to tell you how pretty you were earlier.”

“You did.”

“Well, I wanted to tell you again.”

“Thank you,” she said and stepped forward to brush past him. He grabbed her arm. She felt her fight or flight kick in and she desperately wanted to fly. “Excuse me, I’m leaving. I’m expected home soon—”

“Can’t you come home with me?” He asked with a sick smirk on his face.

She shook her head. “Let go of me,” she said firmly.

“Come on, I can make it worth your while,” he pulled her arm hard making the space between them almost disappear. She didn’t like how small she felt. She hated that about her job. She was constantly made to feel small because she was a woman. His height didn’t help. Neither did the alcohol.

But right now, it was a hundred times worse, and it made her stomach churn. She wanted to throw up and for a moment she thought maybe that would help her escape. “No thank you,” she said pulling harder on her arm that would surely have a bruise when she looked later.

“Well how about right here?” His smile was evil and vile. She really wanted to throw up now. Why didn’t she just go home with her friends?

With as much force as she could muster, she stomped on his inner foot, and he gasped and released her arm in shock. “Fuck!” He shouted. She hurried down the hall, tears filling her vision but somehow, he was right behind her, grabbing her arm again and pushing her against the wall causing her to yelp. “You’re going to regret that,” he snarled in her ear.

Before she had time to cry or vomit (or both) his presence was gone, and she fell to the floor at the lack of pressure against her body. She scrambled to her feet and turned to see Harry towering over the man he had clearly thrown to the ground. The panic flooding her body subsided immensely. Her heart rate was still elevated on behalf of Harry but seeing him made her feel so much safer.

“She said no,” Harry said with so much anger in his voice she was terrified. He dared one glance back at her to see her back on her feet. His eyes were furious. She had seen him argue in mock trials and even been to some of his real court dates. Harry may have disliked her for a long part of their lives, but she had never seen hatred like this.

She would have hated to be the man on the receiving end of his look. “She’s a taunting little bitch. I’ve heard the way you talk about her,” he snapped at Harry. “Leave us alone.”

“I’ve known her my whole life. She knows I don’t talk about her,” Harry said knowingly. His voice was so deep, and the intensity of his words left her woozy; she couldn’t imagine someone protecting her—least of all Harry. And his words were true of course. As much as he disliked her, no one ever had a bad thing to say about her at the hands of Harry. “I will not be leaving her alone.”

She nearly sighed with relief at his statement. He turned quickly, grabbed her hand, and pushed her in front of him as he guided them out of the hallway and out of the restaurant. There were people milling about, but it was late, and it wasn’t crowded by any means. If Harry wasn’t there, she doesn’t want to think about what would have happened. He ushered them a few paces away from the restaurant up the sidewalk.

“Are you alright?” He asked suddenly, he turned her to face him as they stood under the streetlight outside. She was shaking like she was cold, and Harry wanted to reach out and warm her. The last five minutes were catching up to her violently. “Kitten?” He almost snapped, desperate for some indication that she was okay. “Are you okay?”

She nodded then shook her head. “I-I’m fine,” she said and sniffled wiping her sleeve across her nose. “I just want to go home,” she said with an awkward laugh and then the tears started to blur her vision.

“Kitten, I’m not going to leave you alone until I see you lock your door and you’re home safely. So it’s okay to not be okay, just tell me,” again, he sounded exasperated with her.

“Yeah, no I’m okay...” she whimpered biting her lip trying to erase the thoughts from her head of the last few moments. Harry was there and she was okay. “No...no...” she shook her head as the tears steadily fell. She gasped out a strangled cry and Harry pulled her to him immediately. She was overwhelmed by a lot of things but also that he felt so safe and sturdy as he held her. His arms around her protectively, he cupped his hand on the back of her head and one arm around her waist. The sobs left her freely then.

“S’okay,” he said so gently it hurt more than anything that happened to her. Harry being so nice to her nearly wounded her. The safety of his embrace left her breathless. His thumb rubbing over her hair made her weak. “You’re safe, kitten,” he promised. “I got you.”

Harry held her hand the entire cab ride home. She sniffled and each time she did, Harry squeezed her hand reassuringly. The cab stopped outside her apartment building, and she reached for her purse for money. “Stop,” Harry said putting her hand to her side and paying the driver. Harry followed behind her while they made it up the stairs to her second-floor place. Every so often she glanced back to see if Harry was still there. “M’not going anywhere, kitten,” he promised.

She nodded, unlocked her door and pushed inside. “Can I get—”

“Just go sit down, love,” he shook his head at her. “I’ll be right in,” he said making his way for the kitchen. His voice was gentle. Like when she wasn’t feeling well, and he made her nap and eat.

She followed his direction. She felt a little out of place in her own apartment and she twiddled her fingers together as she waited in silence for Harry to come to her living room. He was there shortly, a glass of water for her. She reached out for it, but Harry noticed how her hand was still shaking. “Here,” he said bringing the cup to her lips. He gently cradled the back of her head with his other hand. She felt like a child as Harry helped her drink, but he didn’t pay any mind to the situation at all—he just didn’t want her to spill and make a mess that she would have to worry about right now. “Can I get you anything else?” He wondered. His voice was so deep and gentle in comparison to the hatred he spewed before in every word he spoke.

She shook her head, more tears filling her eyes. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.

He shook his head back at her. “Don’t,” he sighed. “I would never let anything happen to you, kitten,” he promised. Her heart fluttered, despite everything. It was by far one of the sweetest things Harry ever said to her. “I’m glad you’re home safe now. I can leave if you want—"

She was quick to protest. Too quick. “No! Please don’t,” the words rushed out of her mouth before she could stop them. She turned to look at the empty dark apartment as a distraction from her cheeks turning into two red tomatoes. She cleared her throat regaining her composure as she looked back at Harry. She was lucky the tears filled her vision again at the frustration and sadness of her evening overwhelming her again.

“I won’t go until you want me to, kitten,” Harry answered pressing his hand to her face. He brushed his thumb gently over her cheek bone and caught the stray tear that spilled over. His voice was so quiet and soft. It was so different than every interaction he ever had with her.

“Really?” She whispered breathlessly.

“No, baby,” he promised. “I won’t.”

She didn’t think and wrapped herself up in his embrace. It worked so naturally of course. His arms wrapped around her, and he tugged her carefully, so he was snuggled into the corner of her sofa with her cuddled into him. She sighed with relief as tears flowed onto his shirt and coat. She sniveled miserably. “I’ll have to get this dry cleaned for you,” she managed to mumble between her tears.

“Would you please just shut up?” The exasperation was thick in his tone. It kind of made her smile.

“Okay,” she whispered sniveling still.

After a few moments her cries subsided, and Harry let his fingers dance up and down her arm as he held her close to him. He tried not to think about how perfectly she fit in the empty spaces of his body. “Harry?” She asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you,” she said again.

He sighed, a bit irritated that she was thanking him for being a decent human being and protecting her. But he knew she was uncomfortable and upset. “You’re welcome, kitten,” he said softly. “Go to sleep.”

“I can’t do that, Harry. His client base is too substantial.”

“Let him leave with them, then,” Harry snapped. He was pacing Louis’ office. Adamant something be done.

“Harry, stop,” Louis rubbed his hand over his face. “We can get her a restraining order if she wants, and we can put him on a different floor so he never—”

“You need to fire him,” Harry said. “Or she and I will take all our clients and leave instead,” he promised.

He stared at his friend. “Harry.”

“Louis, you fire him, or you’ll have to represent me when I kill him.”

There was a knock outside Louis’ door before the pretty girl entered, making the anger in Harry’s heart dissipate immensely. “Oh, hi Harry,” she murmured and looked at her feet nervously. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Tomlinson?” She asked softly.

Harry gazed at her so adoringly, he couldn’t stop himself. His blood was on fire the moment he saw her struggling. He never thought about murdering someone seriously in his whole life. Yet there he was—ready to kill someone on behalf of the sweet girl. “Call me Louis, love. Please.”

She nodded. “Louis, then. Am...I in trouble?” She asked curiously.

Harry sighed in exasperation and ran his hand over his face in disbelief. She stared at Harry curiously as he made his assessment. “You’re an idiot,” he said to her.

She looked at her feet, feeling her face warm at his insult. “Harold,” Louis snapped. “No love, you’re not in trouble. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Oh.”

There was a bit of silence. “Well, are you alright?” He repeated. Harry wanted to shake her a bit. She was beyond infuriatingly annoying sometimes.

“I’m okay,” she said softly. “Uh...Harry protected me.”

“Yes, he’s decent every once in a while.”

She smirked. “He is.”

“Can I do anything for you to ensure you feel safe while you’re working?”

“Oh, um...no—”

“You can fire him,” Harry repeated.

“Harry, that’s not necessary,” she shook her head, her face feeling flushed.

His right eye twitched and he looked out Louis’ window; stuffed his hands in his pockets as he muttered to himself. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not safe while you’re here,” Louis said knowingly.

Harry wasn’t watching her, but she looked right at him as she answered Louis. “I feel safe,” she said softly.

Louis smirked and shook his head at Harry who still wasn’t paying any attention. Talk about an idiot in this scenario. “I’m very sorry that happened to you. He will be reprimanded beyond belief, you have my word. We’ll be moving his office to a different floor as well,” he promised.

“Louis, you weren’t there,” Harry reminded him. “You didn’t watch her cry while she fell asleep—”

“Harry!” She gasped at the admission and her face felt warm. That was not something she wanted her boss to know. It painted the wrong picture—even if she slept so well in the comfort of Harry’s arms. Louis didn’t pay any attention to their night spent together, though. He was keeping his eyes on Harry.

“I wanted to kill him,” Harry repeated. She gulped at the idea of Harry doing something so violent for her. Something that would get him thrown in jail for a long while.

“I understand that,” Louis said simply. “Love, I’m very sorry,” he returned his attention to the poor girl who looked wildly uncomfortable. “If there is something I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask. I know you have Harry in the office next to you, but if he’s not around, I’d be happy to assist you with anything,” he said kindly.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” she said courteously.

“Harold,” Louis said narrowing his eyes at him.

“Whatever,” he grumbled and stalked out of the office.

“I’m...sorry about him,” she said nervously.

“Don’t worry love, I’ve known Harry for a long while. He means well. He’s just thick headed sometimes,” he shrugged. “I’m serious though, if you need something or want something, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Shaking her head, she exited his office and headed back to her own. She grabbed a cup of coffee from the breakroom as she passed it and tried to think about the to-do list she had for the day. Mentally, she added a dry-cleaner stop for Harry’s suit she cried all over as well. It wasn’t much, but it was the least she could do as a thank you for all he did. As she paced the last few steps toward her office, she tried to convince herself the last few moments in Louis’ office were real. Harry was angry at Louis (and maybe her, what else was new?) for something beyond his control. She wondered why he was so adamant but found it sweet in Harry’s own way.

She closed her office door behind her and tilted her head at Harry sitting on the couch. As she entered, he stood up and gazed at her without speaking. It looked like he was looking through her. She bit the inside of her lip as she held the coffee with both of her hands to keep her tingling fingers warm at the idea that Harry was waiting for her. “Can I help you?” She asked.

“I’m going to be a shitty boyfriend.”

She blinked in complete confusion. It was by far the last thing she ever expected Harry to say. “I’m sorry?”

“I get all wrapped up in m’own stuff and I forget dates even though they’re in m’calendar and reminders and everything. It’ll infuriate you. I’ll make up for it with grand sweeping gestures that will maybe make it better, but they might just make y’madder that I can’t remember the little things.”

“Harry, what—”

“M’so in love with you and I’ve been ignoring it since we were kids. The six months I worked here without you were the longest months ’ve gone without seeing you and I didn’t even want t’see you, but I don’t want to go that long without seeing you ever again. I barely want t’go an hour without seeing you and even when I do I think about you the whole time,” he started to pace across her office back and forth as if was retracing his steps to remember all the things he was saying. Like they were written on the carpet.

“Can you just—”

“I’ll be better than that tool y’dated in third year,” she wondered where that came from because she didn’t even know he knew she was dating someone. “I’ll give you everything y’want or need whenever you ask. I’ll plan dates, I’ll take y’anywhere you want t’go, I’ll walk on hot coals for you, if you ask. I love you so goddamn much, love. I want to murder someone for you, and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash; ’ve never felt this way ‘bout anyone before. You’re infuriatingly sweet and y’never know when t’shut up or what’s good for you. It’s probably going t’get y’killed one day and I don’t know how someone s’sweet could be a corporate lawyer. You’re unbelievably challenging in so many ways and y’always remind me that I don’t know everything even though I think I do. Mum and Gemma want me t’bring you t'Sunday dinners.”

She shook her head trying to process all of this it didn’t help that he was jumping from topic to topic. Harry had given speeches in college before. She listened to many of his own closing arguments and of course read countless persuasive essays. This wasn’t anything like any of that. This was wild and out of sorts. She wondered what was flowing in his head and why it was spewing out like this, why it was happening now. “Harry, what are you—”

“You asked me t’be friends because you thought we’d be good friends since we spent all that time together. Quite frankly you’re m’best friend. Even though I was miserable towards you all the time. I don’t know why I did that t’you and s’jus’ another reason you should tell me t’take a hike. No one knows me as well as you do. Sleeping with you on your couch made m’neck so sore I can’t turn it to the left, but it was the best sleep of m’life and I want t’do it over and over again if I can hold you.”

That made her face flood with heat so quickly she was sure she looked bright red. “Harry, honestly, I’m—”

“I will never hurt you and I will never let anyone hurt you while m’around.” This time she didn’t interrupt him she could feel her face soften at his words and she felt like she was going to cry if he talked any longer. “I don’t think I know anyone half s’beautiful as you, kitten, inside or out,” he said softly. Everything else he said felt like a sprint. A rush of words he had been dying to get out for who knows how long. “Please, be my girlfriend,” he said finally, slowly at last.

They stared at each other silently for several moments.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank you.”

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wukong-s-only-wife5000 · 7 months

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Hi there if possible could we get a Monkey reborn where he is Jealous please?<3

I think that Reborn Wukong is the most easily jealous out of the four Wukongs that I'm going to write. Make this before the movie. Definitely will be making a fluff taking place after the movie and involving Fruitie. Enjoy!

___________________________________________________

He couldn't help it. He was just… naturally territorial, especially when it came to you. In his defence, though… How dare that bastard even look at you like that? How exactly? With his eyes. That punk that ran the Inn you all were resting at for the past three days had no right to look at his goddess or have the audacity to openly flirt with you in front of him.

Since you all checked in, whatever his name was had continuously given you the sweet eye, but you either didn't notice it or didn't care. In Wukong’s mind, your innocently pure soul didn't see it, since you didn't.stop.talking to what's his face. He wasn't anything to look at really, Wukong was taller than him and compared to the Monkey King, the human was a twig, and that was saying something.

I could take him out easily. He thought to himself as he watched with narrowed eyes as you spoke with the male with Wujing. His punishments would be limited considering his master already went to bed, so the only thing he had to worry about was your wrath. Sun Wukong, The Great Sage Equal To Heaven, the Monkey King, the Demon King… couldn't stop himself from boiling over with pure jealousy at the fact of human male audacity.

“(Y/n), can I talk to you for a second?” He asked through gritted teeth as he tried to remain calm.

“In a sec,”

You should've taken this as a sign, but the conversation with the mysterious stranger was too exciting, you didn't see the signs. The poor Demon King was seething and on the verge of dragging you away by force, but he knew better than to do that.

“(Y/n),” he once again tried to get your attention.

“Can't you see we’re talking?” the male looked at Wukong in slight annoyance, yet you still didn't see the red flags… not till it was too late.

“Wukong!” you scolded and were about to run over to check on the poor guy who was kicked through three trees, but Wukong grabbed you by the arm and dragged you away. “Wukong, listen to me!”

“No, you listen!” he finally snapped as he turned to look at you. “I don't know if you realized this, (Y/n), but you're mine,”

“I know that,” you always got so flustered when he reminded you of that fact, especially when he said it in that growl that gave you goosebumps.

“That punk was flirting with you, and you let him!”

“What are you talking about? He wasn't flirting with me,” You were kinda oblivious to others flirting, getting used to Wukong being the only one to flirt with you. He sighed heavily and turned away from her.

I should've known… He thought to himself.

“It was obvious to everyone that he’s been flirting with you since we got to this piece of shit temple.”

“C'mon, Sunny, that's not nice,” you said and got him to release you.

That wasn't true… was it? You really did think he got a bit too comfortable with you, but you just thought he was being hospitable to a travelling guest… apparently, not everyone saw it that way.

In all honesty, since you started dating Wukong a little over a year ago, the advances of other men seemed to naturally filter out of your head. You only saw Wukong in that light, there was only him for you and you for him. Of course, he knew this, but he has had too many restless nights about some human man taking you away from him.

“What the hell was that for?!” The human looked at the Demon King with narrowed eyes as he stormed back over holding his arm.

“You're getting too comfortable with my woman,” he snarled as he got in the male’s face. “So I gave you a light warning.”

“Light? You almost killed me!”

“But I didn't,” he tilted his head slightly. “Is that little body so weak it can't withstand a little kick?” he raised a brow slightly.

“Okay,” you immediately got between the two to avoid your boyfriend giving the male any more ‘gentle warnings’. “That's enough.”

“I'm just talking,” he looked at you with a much gentler expression. He turned back to the human male with a glare when he scoffed in disgust at the new information. Wukong’s manly instinct was right, the bastard was just trying his hand to bed you.

“You're actually with this hairy demon?” he looked at you in scorn.

“Pardon?” you couldn't help but question him.

“I didn't think a beautiful girl like you would degrade yourself being with an unwanted mongrel-” Wukong's mouth opened slightly in shock as he looked from the male you'd just punched to you.

“You better not dare speak ill of him ever again,” you warned, giving the man a menacing glare that pleased and made the Monkey King smirk at you. He could kiss you at that very moment. “Unwanted mongrel? He's mine. He may be a demon, but he is more wanted and loved than you could ever dream, and with a personality like yours, I understand why you're single.”

He'd never thought it possible, but he was immediately more in love with you at that moment than before. Yes, he was yours, all yours. Unaware, Wukong straightened up while his prideful expression turned to the man holding his now swollen cheek. He knew how it felt to be hit by you because he had been hit many times before. Even though you would feel bad and apologize when you hit him too hard, treat him like your little baby afterwards.

“Whatever,” the male scoffed and walked away, not wanting to risk either of you hurting him more.

“Big jerk,” you grumbled and puffed your cheeks slightly in frustration. He smiled slightly at your display before he took the hand you punched the guy with and kissed each knuckle softly… which not only calmed you down but made you extremely flustered.

“That's my girl,” he smirked a bit at you before he intertwined your fingers with his. He couldn't help that he was protective, he just didn't want to lose you. You were his everything, his anchor, his peace, and his love.

“Wukong~”

Oh, no… He knew that tone and, as he looked at her, that smirk.

“What is it?” he questioned, as if he didn't already know what you were going to ask.

“You wouldn't happen to be… jealous, would you?”

“No,” he huffed and folded his arms. “I just don't like that some bastard thinks that he can flirt with you in front of me.”

“That's jealousy,” she chuckled, but hugged his torso and buried your face into his chest. “Foolish Monkey King. Don't you know that you're the only person I’ll ever love?”

“Yeah… but I'm not a person” he mumbled stubbornly, trying to ignore you, but his blush gave him away. He found comfort in both your words and your embrace. You could tell that the demon king was starved for touch and affection. He was weak against your simplest advances.

“Wukong, look at me. Come here,” you said as you reached for his face. Instead of lowering himself as you wanted, he picked you up by your thighs and brought you to his level.

“Hm?” He tilted his head, smug as ever to see your expression as he held you in his arms.

“Look, I don't care if you think you're just a devious demon that only does wrong… I know that you have the purest heart and soul. I love you, you stupid demon, nothing and no one will ever change that,”

You hugged him tightly, making him tense, but quickly relaxed and buried his face into your neck. You always knew just what to say to warm and make his stone heart, which he swore he didn't have, race and have him weak to you, just puddy in your hands.

“I love you too, peach.”

“You don't need to be jealous, especially not of someone like him,” she assured, and though you doubted mere words soothed his worries, they did.

“Good.” he tightened his grip a bit. Because you're mine.

“I am…” You smiled and held his face as you pulled back. “And you're mine.” That made him smirk at you before he carried you to bed to get some… sleep, and cuddle… a lot.

#reborn sun wukong x reader #monkey king reborn #request #x reader #monkey king #sun wukong #wukong #reborn sun wukong #reborn #reborn wukong

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babyrunsforfanfic · 1 year

Text

Tangled Necklaces

summary: the four times steve harrington untangles your necklace for you, and the one time do it for him.

steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings/tags: light angst, talk of anxiety, reader and steve meet while reader is dating someone else but they don’t cheat or anything they just kinda have a moment y’know, reader described as having hair long enough to put in a bun at one point, everyone lives ok like zero talk of the upside down or vecna, platonic fruity four, talk/use of drugs & alcohol, talk of kids but it’s like four sentences and it’s over so fast i swear

based off these two posts (one) (two) that i really had the urge to expand on.

wc: 4500ish

1. when steve harrington agreed to tag along to a party to keep his friend, eddie munson, company during some “party favor” deals… he didn’t really know why. okay that was a total lie, he had mainly agreed due to nancy and robin being out on a double date with vickie and jonathan respectively, and he didn’t want to fifth wheel.

however, watching the party with a red cup of warm beer to his lips, he wasn’t sure why people still threw these fucking things. eddie was decently in his element, happily spouting about something to some guy buying a pre-rolled spliff, the guy in which who looked like he had no want to be there. said guy who, after passing eddie a ten dollar bill, made some comment about a girl sobbing in the upstairs bathroom.

now steve, steve couldn’t deny he had things for saving people and the whole ‘kicked puppy’ schtick, so when he glanced at eddie, eddie simply waved him off toward the house. steve maneuvered through wasted teenagers, kicking a few plastic cups out from under his feed, before he treaded up the stairs slowly. upstairs was quieter, though not completely vacant, and the floor still thrummed from the music that was being played just below.

“i can’t believe that girl is in there crying over a stupid fucking necklace.” a girl had snickered in passing, and steve ignored whatever the girl’s friend had said (though he knew it was as equally malicious as the first girl).

instead, steve walked straight to the only closed door on the floor, and tapped his knuckles against the wood. he could hear the sniffles, the water running, and when you opened the door… god he didn’t think he had ever seen someone as pretty.

“m sorry.” you mumbled, mascara black tear lines under your eyes, and steve watched as your hand came up to wipe at your face. “if you need to-”

“what’s wrong?” steve instead asked, and he caught the surprise in your eyes as you rapidly blinked. “someone said something about a necklace?”

“oh.” you wince, and you lifted your clenched fist that steve had just realized had been tucked behind your back so far. “it’s nothing, really.”

“let me see.” steve folded his hands on his hips, waiting, before you let out a soft sigh. “let me see, c’mon.”

you said nothing, and instead just brought your hand around to open your palm face-up. steve sucked a breath through clenched teeth, though didn’t say anything as he glanced at the clump of metal chain you had in the center of your hand.

the necklace itself was pretty, some thin silver chain with a tiny stone on it, and you scrunched your nose as you shrugged noncommittally.

“it’s fine, i can take it to a jeweler in the next town over.” you shrugged again, and steve watched as you touched the knot with the tip of your nail from your other hand’s pointer finger. “not a big deal, y’know?”

“give it.” steve murmured, and when you didn’t move quick enough- steve plucked the necklace out of your hands for you. “wash yourself up, i got it from here.”

you blinked owlishly as steve closed the toilet lid and sat, balancing the chain on his own palm as he stared at it. you didn’t necessarily know what to say (was there anything to say?), and so instead? you just listened to him.

you used a hand towel to wash your face, paired with the bottle of cheap face wash you found tucked under the sink. you were able to scrub off most of your leftover makeup, though you were delicate around the eyes, which left the majority of your now smudged eyeliner and eyeshadow. you huffed, breathing deeply as you leaned forward, before you cupped water in your palms. the trickle of the water, the coolness of it, grounded you- and you didn’t flinch when you looked up in the mirror to see steve harrington standing just behind you. he smiled at you, slow and steady, before he jerked his head toward you.

“move your hair.” steve kept his voice soft still, and you did as he asked- before your necklace was back where it belonged. your fingers smoothed over it, as steve connected the clasp closed, fingers brushing just under the back of the collar of your sweater. “there we go.”

you both stared at each other’s reflection, unblinking and quiet, your fingers of one hand pressed to your necklace- while the other kept you steady as you stood against the counter. steve watched you, arms and hands limp at his side, though he offered you a smile still.

a sharp thwap on the door caused you to jump, and you glanced at the locked doorknob as it jiggled.

“baby? you in there?” chris, your boyfriend of six months and some change called, and while steve mouthed the word ‘baby’ to himself, you answered back with your eyes still locked on the harrington boy still stood behind you.

“i’ll meet you downstairs!”

steve let you go when you stepped away. when you whispered your apologies, he murmured his own back.

later that evening, when he makes eye contact with you when you’re pressed into the side of some jock, he can’t help but feel smug when your hand lifts to ghost against the necklace that’s nestled between your collarbones.

2. steve harrington was pretty sure his friends were out to get him. when eddie had whined and pleaded to let him throw a little friend-movie night thing. steve had reluctantly agreed, but he made his friends instead switch it into an all day thing. starting with swimming in the pool, and then. when they were tired enough, pizza and movies.

steve should’ve known something was up when eddie asked if he could invite someone over, and when steve later asked who, eddie had instead changed the subject.

but steve hadn’t pressed, and instead figured eddie had probably lucked out with a girl or guy— and was embarrassed.

he hadn’t expected to walk out of his house to see you sitting by the pool. most of your hair was scraped up in a bun on the top of your head, but your hands were currently fiddling with that fucking necklace of yours.

steve dropped off the case of beers next to a grinning nancy, who winked playfully at steve, before she gestured to you. when you turned around you beamed, giggling and waving at steve as he got closer to you.

“surprise!” you grinned wide, eyes bright, and steve chuckled as the sun caught the shine of the sunblock you’d applied to your cheeks and nose.

“hey there!” steve greeted you in an quick one arm hug when you dropped one arm, though he took note that one of your hands stayed tucked at the hair at the nape of your neck. “what are you doing here?”

“eds invited me!” you chirped, eyes bright as your dark tinted sunglasses tipped down your nose. steve glanced over his shoulder toward eddie, who was fiddling with the boombox steve had propped on a table. “said you wouldn’t mind.”

“the more the merrier.” steve grinned when you smiled wide, before he couldn’t help but gesture towards your neck with a jerk of his chin. “problem?”

“oh.” you winced, and steve felt a familiar rush of deja vu, though this time you’re spinning to show steve the back of your neck. your necklace had grabbed hold of the hairs at your nape, and it was spun almost to the root. steve whistled this time, murmuring a curse word. “i know, it’s bad huh?”

“you sleep in that thing or something?” steve settled down behind you without asking, and quickly flicked your hand out of the way. you flushed, though tipped your head forward as to make his ministrations easier.

“yeah, i uh, shower in it too.” you shrug, and steve balks as he sets about carefully pulling your hair out of the chain’s teeth.

“now, i’m no jeweler…” steve’s words trail off as he untangles one section, before moving to the next. “but pretty sure sleeping in this and showering in it is not helping you with taking care of it.”

“i just.. i don’t want to lose it, y’know?” you shrug, and steve can see over your shoulder you’re fiddling with a thin bracelet that’s around your wrist. “i don’t want to lose any of it.”

you gesture then, from head to toe, and steve looks at where you point. the tiny earrings in your ears. the necklace in between steve’s fingers. the bracelets. the rings. an anklet on your left ankle.

“i don’t have a jewelry box so i just..” you shrug again, and steve watches from over your shoulder as you start to turn a ring around your thumb.

“hm.” steve makes a noise of acknowledgment, mainly so you know he’s still listening to you, before he smooths his hands under the last bit of your previously tangled hair. “all done.”

you smile from over your shoulder at steve, an ear to ear thing, and steve pretends his heart doesn’t skip a beat when later you tell robin while you’re tipsy that you dumped your boyfriend.

you pretend yours doesn’t skip a beat, when you get back home and empty out your bag. tucked inside the towel you’d borrowed, you find a beat-to-shit jewelry case. when you eventually got the courage open it, all that’s inside is a small sticky note.

signed— from, s.

you don’t tell anyone that you tuck the sticky note away into your wallet for the safest of keeping.

it’s the first night you sleep where when you wake, your necklace isn’t tangled into your hair, and your anklet isn’t snagged on a lose thread.

steve pretends to not blush when he gets his own sticky note back, alongside a small ring, a ring that while it doesn’t fit his hand, it does fit on his key ring.

his note is signed— with a doodle of a necklace.

3. steve liked working at family video on one particular day the most out of any other day. sure, there are the days where his friends come in, keeping him and robin company at the two work while their two other friends pick their way through the stacks.

steve however, steve especially likes saturdays.

he mainly (okay fully) enjoys saturdays because those are the days where you come in. the hour varied— sometimes right when the store opened and other times you’d slink in just before your shift though.

however, when he arrived to work one day and found you sniffling while you sat on the curb in front of your car, his heart ached. you’d blinked up at him, pretty and hands shaking, as your hands cradled two parts of the necklace that you usually wore. the clasp was in one hand and the body of the necklace in the other, and steve said nothing to you as he ushered you inside the family video store.

robin wouldn’t be in for another hour, and steve didn’t care what keith would probably have to say come monday. steve instead ushered you to sit behind the store’s counter, and you sunk to the floor as steve moved around quickly.

first, he’d relocked the doors. secondly, he’d taped a piece of paper to the glass of one with just the word ‘emergency’ scrawled across it. thirdly, he’d draped his jacket around your shoulders in passing, since your body was still trembling as you cried. fourth and fifth, he snagged a coke from the vending machine in the break room, alongside a pair of needle nosed pliers.

when steve came to sit in front of you cross legged, knees touching yours, you sniffled as you held the broken necklace in your hands. you didn’t say anything at first, and instead let steve pluck the broken necklace bits from your hand, swapping them for the coke. he let you, keeping quiet as you drank, before you started to fiddle with the tab.

“my mom gave me that.” you explained, and steve nodded, set about using the pliers to reopen the clasp end that had gotten pulled off. “and whenever anything happens to it… god i just fucking freeze.”

“what made you come here?” normally, steve would think he had more tact then that, and for a moment he thinks about robin and the ‘you suck’ tally marks at scoop’s.

“i…” you blow out a huff of air, and steve gets a smell of mint and coke, smiling as he watches you become flustered. “this is gonna sound so dumb.”

“hey, you aren’t dumb.” steve’s answer is an almost bite, and you blink up at him prettily as steve’s eyes harden as he watches you. “you’re not. we all have things that stress us out, yeah? so don’t say you’re dumb just because you think you’re overreacting about something.”

you say nothing, bottom lip between your teeth.

steve continues to fiddle with the necklace, pliers helpings as he’s able to loop the rings back together. you’re smiling as you watch, steve notices, and you happily turn around after steve lets out a small ‘ta-da’.

you move your hair out of the way as if it was something you did all the time, and steve is gentle as he clasps the necklace around your neck.

“be careful with this, okay?” steve murmurs, and you hold back a shiver at the way his breath fans over the back of your neck. “if it breaks, try and not lose the rings, i can get it back together if you have all the pieces.”

you nod and promise, and for the next forty minutes, you and steve talk about life. you both say nothing when robin walks in, the girl mumbling to herself about an ‘emergency’ and you and steve both try to not squirm when she grins down at you. instead, you let steve pull you up so you’re standing on your own feet, and he finally opens the store with robin as you’re looking for your next movie to watch.

when you find it and are later checking out, you see steve’s keys, and steve looks up when the most adorable choked out puff of air falls from your lips.

“oh.” you’re grinning, shifting your weight on both of your feet, eyes bright as you rub your thumb over your ring that’s sitting on his keys.

steve just smiles at you, nervous, and you accept the movie and receipt from him. when you leave, robin slides a sticky note to him, with a sloppily drawn ‘you rule | you suck’ diagram, with a single tally mark under ‘you suck’.

steve pushes it away with a scoff, just as the door chime alerts your re-entry to the store. you don’t have the movie in your hands, and instead you’re fiddling with your necklace, your bracelets, your rings. steve and robin both keep quiet as you huff to yourself, before you send a smile to steve.

“go on a date with me.”

later, after steve agrees and gets your number, robin slides a new sticky note his way when the store is packed full.

‘you rule: I | you suck: 0’

4. steve harrington is pretty sure, almost a hundred percent fucking positive he was meant to be your boyfriend. he decides this early on in your relationship, while he’s listening to you giggle to robin about leaving hawkins and all seven of you moving into a duplex of some kind. he listens to you giggle with nancy, mainly when nancy tells you steve’s vision of having six kids.

when you squirm and say you wouldn’t mind, eddie claps steve’s shoulder and proclaims him to now officially be a goner. steve rolls his eyes and pushes eddie away as eddie teases him about being whipped. (steve will never tell eddie about how that night, you and steve laid nose-to-nose in his bed talking about name ideas).

he later hears you checking with nancy that she’s not upset with you for dating steve, and when she assures you that she’s not- you quietly say you think someone like steve had always been missing from your life. (that night, steve lays in your bed beside you and wishes that you’ll never leave him). when you wake up the next morning and notice he’s more bleary-eyed than usual, you have him call out and you spend all day in bed together, sheets tangled and skin to skin.

steve doesn’t mind that you both have morning breath the whole day. you do, but you’d never say a word.

if steve had to pick a favorite though, mornings would definitely be at the top of the list. you had a job at the police station with nancy, both of you working as secretaries to save up money so all of you could get the fuck out of dodge, before you all intended to move just.. out of hawkins.

but mornings, mornings steve got to help you. he got to slip your rings onto each finger, before he pressed a kiss to the digits. He carefully selected your bracelets, making sure they wouldn’t snag on anything you were wearing that day (he knew you had certain ones that were finicky for certain clothes).

your necklace, the one your mom had given you, was long since broken. you’d had a full meltdown when it happened, sobbing into steve’s shirt as held you to him. you’d both stayed like that for a long while, him cradling you to his chest as you held the necklace to yours. later, when your tears ran dry, he helped you slip the necklace into a small plastic bag, and tuck it carefully against your jewelry box.

(he’d offered to buy you a new one, a better one than the old one he’d snuck into your bag. you told him to shut the fuck up with silly questions, and steve hadn’t asked since)

he’s gifted you a necklace, just last week, a dainty chain with a small teardrop pendant that hung in the hollow of your throat. your eyes had teared up, breath stuttering in your throat, and you’d instantly turned around so you could push your hair off your shoulder.

and all of that, led to now— where you and him were getting ready to go pick up steve’s adopted children (how you’d fit them all in his little car you weren’t sure), but you’d manage. you were fully ready, one of his sweaters on but pouting, your chin cradled by the palm of your hand. steve shook his head fondly at you, even as he used the pair of tweezers you’d offered him to try and untangle the knot that you’d made with your necklace.

“oh.” you mumbled, and steve huffed playfully at you, eyes rolling fondly as he hushed you. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t apologize, pretty thing.” steve wet his lips with his tongue, slowly working out the chain as he shrugged his shoulders. “not too bad, ‘m a pro at this now and everything.”

“need to start paying you.” you teased, and you squirmed when steve grinned at you.

“pay me in kisses, huh?” steve grinned as you stuck your tongue out at him, before he pressed his hand to his chest with a grin. “ouch! fine, pay me by doing my dishes when we all move in together.”

steve gestured to one of the polaroids tacked to your vanity mirror, and you smiled as you glanced at it. it was a picture of all of you; you, steve, robin, vickie, nancy, jonathan, and eddie. you were all tucked close, hazy eyes but with bright smiles, and you’d loved the photo since the day you’d taken it.

“you want that, really?” your voice was soft, and steve clicked his tongue at you and gestured you closer as he held your necklace up.

you turned, allowing him to clip your necklace on, before his hands curled around your shoulders to hold you in place.

kiss. a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“i can’t wait to move in with all of you. waking up every day with you in our bed, not having to sneak around anyone.” steve hummed, and you let out a soft sigh to urge him on. “we’d all balance each other out, and we’d have our own space to hang out if they got on our nerves.”

kiss. a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“i can’t wait to start the rest of my life with you, sweet thing.” steve thumbed the clasp of your necklace, and you nodded as you shifted so you could straddle his lap and face him. “okay?”

“okay.” your answer has steve smiling, and you can’t help but smile back shyly.

steve let’s out this soft, almost fucked out laugh, before his fingers curl around the necklace chain..

and pull.

the kiss is shy, sweet, both of your noses brushing and giggling and smiling into each other’s mouths. steve pulls away first, eyes flickering to the clock you have above your bed, before he presses another kiss to your mouth.

“c’mon, sweet thing. let’s go get the kids.”

you don’t tell steve, but the entire drive there and back with the kids… you can’t help but think that it would be easy to have a life where steve’s hand was in yours.

unknown to you, steve feels the exact same way.

5. steve huffed as he leaned his head to rest against the headboard of the bed he sat on, brow furrowed and lips pulled down in a frown. he glanced around the room, and couldn’t help but let a slight smile curl at the edges of his mouth.

you’d all done exactly what you said you would, and now, two years almost to do the day of meeting you, you’d all moved out of bum-fuck nowhere that is hawkins. it wasn’t without its challenges, of course, the main one being it took a whole extra year to follow through with the group’s goals plan. (the group had unanimously voted to stay while eddie finished his third try of senior year, even with eddie’s insistence that you didn’t have to and he’d follow soon)

but, all eventually was okay- and you’d all thrown several darts on the map to decide where you’d move. you’d all decided on texas of all places, renting a large 6-room duplex to fit the entire lot of you. it was nice, slipping into the domestic life with steve’s friends and you around him— if he was honest with himself, it was everything he’d ever wanted in life.

on the day you all moved in, you’d gifted steve a necklace of his own. steve had blushed (and totally did not teared up thank you very much), and now it was his favorite thing to wear. it was simple, just a chain necklace, but you’d given it him. steve could also fully recall the nervous ramble you’d slipped into, one that rivaled one of robin’s. you’d been worried he wouldn’t like it and that it wouldn’t fit his style, but steve just cut you off with a kiss, before clipping it around his neck.

all of that culminated to now, steve having gotten off much earlier than the rest of you. he’d changed and showered to rid himself of just the funk for working for a little under eight hours, and while slipping his shirt over his head- he knocked his necklace off the bathroom counter. it’d fallen to the floor in a clatter, and steve felt his heart lurch in his throat as he scrambled to pull it off the floor.

his hands shook as he tried to untangle the knot of chain, but everything he did just seemed to make it worse. he’d been working at it for over an hour, hands trembling and curses on his tongue, and he couldn’t help but feel idiotic. he couldn’t count the amount of times you had to have his help untangling yours, and here he was not even being able to do his own.

“hey baby,” your voice caused steve to flinch and instinctively cup his hands together, and steve glanced up at you with wide-eyes as you slipped into your shared bedroom. your fingers were quickly unbuttoning the blazer you had on, and steve watched as you cocked your head as your brow quirked. “what’d you have there?”

“oh.” steve blushed, and took a few short breaths as you draped your blazer over the footboard, before you crawled up so you were sitting across from him. “uh-”

your hands were on his, uncurling and parting his hands, and steve watched as you smiled. you didn’t say anything, even as his own hands trembled as he held them flat. you used them as a surface as you carefully began working at the knots, and steve wet his lips with his tongue.

“do you wanna talk about it?” your brow pinched as you glanced up at steve, and he felt his cheeks warm as he swallowed. “you always make me talk about it, y’know?”

“it fell and i just-” steve let out a puff of air, clenching his eyes shut as he steadied his breathing. he focused on the light brush of your fingers against his, and the small hum you made to prompt him to continue. “i can always get yours untangled and then it fell and i…”

“i know.” you had a smile on your face when steve opened his eyes, and he watched as you plucked the chain up and shook it lightly. it was untangled now, dangling from the tips of your fingers, and you cocked your head with a small smile. “there we go, want me to put it on for you?”

you were teasing, steve could tell, but you didn’t even wait for him to respond before you leaned forward. your hands went behind his neck with the necklace, and he felt the slight brush of your fingers as you clasped the chain together. when you pulled back, you brushed your fingers down, smoothing the chain so it sat smoothly on his chest.

“there we go.” you smiled up at steve, who stared down at you with a slight shyness in his eyes. “all good, baby?”

“mhm, love you.”

steve watched as you curled your fingers around the chain of his necklace— and pulled.

your lips connected in a kiss, nose bumping and giggling into each other’s mouths when your teeth clashed. when you both disconnected, you had your hand placed on his chest, fingers twisting the chain of his necklace around.

“love you too, stevie.”

later, that night, while you’re flush to his chest- quiet snores falling from your mouth as you sleep, steve is thinking about rings.

specifically to go on that finger on your left hand.

#babyrunsforfanfic #first fic please be gentle ok i’m scared #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #except i never actually used y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #read steve’s shirt it says ‘boyfriend material’#steve harrington is boyfriend

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angelicpoison12 · 17 days

Text

first date ღ

Angel takes you out for the first time since you’re new in Hell!

M4M/M4A, SFW, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

It was your first date with Angel. Saying you were nervous would be an understatement.

— ❤︎︎ —

You were scared to say the least. Angel helped you take a seat at a small booth in the coffee shop he’d taken you to. The seats were surprisingly clean, the red cushions soft beneath your bodies. The walls of the old coffee shop were stained and had splashes of odd liquid on them from old accidents, yet it seemed like an odd sense of comfort was lingering within the old walls of the establishment.

Angel got a capuchino. You really didn’t know what to get, so you just got a smoothie. Angel then smirked and said, “Don’t got a taste fer coffee, toots?” He asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes. “There’s just so many options.. It’s hard to decide.” You said back in a remark, your hands holding the faded yellowish menu. The smoothie you’d gotten was fruity, and Angel enjoyed his coffee. You both chatted and got closer. You realized that there was more to Angel than his flirtatious facade and sweet face. I mean, you already assumed that there was more, but you never realized how complex and caring he could be.

When you were talking about your past and how you’d gotten to Hell, you noticed Angel’s hand was soft as he placed it on top of yours. Your breath hitched, but you didn’t bring it up. Angel noticed this and smirked. “Aw toots, this okay?” He asked. All you did was nod, smiling bashfully at him. “Yeah, it’s okay,” You told Angel kindly. You and Angel finished your drinks, paid, and left. Angel wanted to show you around Hell, and who were you to refuse?

— ❤︎︎ —

Angel decided to walk with you, his large heels clacking against the concrete of the sidewalk, your hand in his. He pointed excitedly at all of the things he showed you: the outlets, the hellish porn studio, the clubs, the tv shop, a few small restaurants and cafés, downtown where the cannibals lived, and Angel was even gracious enough to take you up a building where where you could get a full view of the wondrous city.

“Wow..” You whispered. The night sky was a dark maroon, smoke waving in the air from the residents below, and smoky clouds that were breathtaking. You never thought you’d genuinely enjoy a place you’d been told was horrible your entire life, but Angel was helping you find solace in your new home. He looked at you, asking, “Beautiful, ain’t it, toots?” “Yeah.. Yeah, it is.” You responded quietly. Angel wrapped one of his lower arms around you, pulling you closer while his top left arm started gently playing with your hair. He pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, whispering, “I’m not gonna let anyone hurt ya, toots.. Not under my watch.” He told you in a soft voice. His words made you blush and smile.

He gently cupped your chin, turning you towards him. His eyes gazed into yours, and time seemed to stop. “Y/N,” Angel nearly whispered. If it wasn’t for him being so close to you, you wouldn’t have been able to hear him under the sounds of cars beeping, people screaming/yelling at each other, and music starting to bump up from the nightclubs on the block below. “Angel,” you responded, your eyes fluttering a little. Your breaths mingled, coffee mixing with strawberries. When he kissed you, your eyes closed momentarily, tasting the sweetness of his soft lips. He cupped the back of your head, and your fingers twirled in his soft locks.

When you pulled away from each other, Angel’s four arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. You squeaked as your face landed in his chest fluff, and he nuzzled his nose against your hair in a sweet little Eskimo kiss.

Maybe Hell wasn’t so bad after all. As long as Angel was here with you.

#hazbin hotel #masterlist #angel dust #angel dust x reader #angel dust x reader safe #sfw fanfic #fluff #angel dust x male reader #angel dust x reader fanfic #angel dust x gn reader #mfa angel dust #angel dust masterlist #angel dust fluff #tooth rotting fluff #angel dust drabble #angel dust Hazbin hotel

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tomuras · 8 months

Note

I request Wriothesley and reader celebrating Halloween together and reader making him dress up.

Warnings: Modern au, Costume Party, Halloween, Alcohol, Alcohol Consumption, Not sfw, Smut, Semi-Public (it’s at the party), Lyney and Lynette are mentioned briefly, Rough Sex, Size Difference (Wrio has a big dick bc i say so), Mirror sex, Mating Press, Cum, Unsafe Sex, 1.3K Words, no pronouns for reader, he/him for Wriothesley. If I missed anything please lmk!

Wriothesley x Afab!Reader

A/n: Here you go my beloved <3

Tags: @suyacho @neuvillettes @valentineslilies @themovingcastlez

“What about this?” You held up a vampire costume but Wriothesley shook his head.

“No, not that.” He mumbles, thinking hard about what he should wear to the costume party the two of you were about to embark on.

It wasn’t that important to him, but he knew how much this party meant to you, so he was determined to dress up and have a damn good time with you. You pulled out several costumes before Wriothesley finally agreed on one. It was a werewolf costume, and you ended up wearing a vampire costume you had so happily picked out for yourself. You wore a long, dark red hooded cape and you gave your costume a nice twirl to show off to your boyfriend, who let out a stifled giggle and smiled at how happy you seemed.

“Come on, get ready! We’re gonna be late.” You ushered him into the bathroom with his costume in hand, and waited until he was completely ready to put your shoes on and grab your house key.

Wriothesley made sure he brought his car keys and led you through the kitchen door and into the garage where he opened the car door for you. He held your hand carefully as you stepped into the car. You were all smiles and giggles as you waited for Wriothesley to enter the car through the driverside. Before putting the key in the ignition he planted a soft kiss against your pretty lil lips and with a grin he turned the key in the ignition, and the both of you were off.

When the two of you arrived at the party you were nearly bouncing with excitement. Wriothesley held out his hand for you and once you entangled it with your own, the two of you were officially off. The both of you walked through the front door of the large house and passed through a bunch of hanging streamers, they were orange and black in the spirit of the spooky holiday. You were smiling before but once you entered the main room where everyone was mingling you started to glow with excitement.

You grabbed your boyfriend's hand and started to lead him to the punch bowl, which was really just one big fruity cocktail. He poured you and himself a cup before the two of you scanned the room for anyone you might know, finally your eyes landed on a familiar face, Lyney and Lynette. You pulled Wriothesley forward and into the direction of your good friends.

“Lyney! Lynette! It’s so good to see you two.” You exclaimed as you gave them both a great big hug. They hugged you back and asked what you were doing here, and when you had arrived.

“We just got here.” Wriothesley replied.

You wrapped your arms around his bicep and looked up at him with a calm yet pleased smile. He smiled back at you, happy that you were having such fun already. The four of you talked for about five, ten minutes before Lyney and Lynette excused themselves to talk with some of the other guests, and you and Wriothesley left to join the dance floor where the both of you moved your bodies against each other to some questionable, yet, catchy music. The music electrified your bodies, causing you to feel as if the two of you were the only ones in the room.

It was hypnotic, sensual, and everything you could’ve dreamed of and then some. Wriothesley rubbed his hands down all the way down your body until he met your hips, which he then stroked the pads of his thumbs against your skin as the two of you danced, slowly and lewdly. Your breath became hot as did your boyfriend’s, and before you knew it you were being pulled into a vacant room before you had any chance to catch your breath.

He pulled off your dress and removed your robe as he freed his cock from his pants, making sure his lips never left yours in the process. He took two of his fingers and began rubbing soft circles against your throbbing bud, he groaned at every whimper and moan you let out. He was becoming impatient, he wanted you here and now, and god damn it he would have you. He swore to it that he would fuck you, right here, right now. He didn’t care that this was your good friends' house, he needed to be inside you right this instant.

And so he wasted no time in doing so, slowly he pushed past your folds and into your warm walls with a strained groan. He threw his head back as he gradually got into the groove of fucking you. God, he’d never tire of how your cunt felt wrapped around his hardened cock, wet and warm, welcoming him in like a true sinner. While it took little time for him to get used to your walls, you were another story. His cock was big in size, and it took all your might not to pass out from the sheer size of it. You were internally thanking god for giving you such a well endowed boyfriend, but unfortunately what you thought was a quiet thought was actually a verbal prayer.

“Didn’t know you liked it that much, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” He said with a big grin.

Before you had time to process his words Wriothesley began fucking you at a brutal and unforgiving pace, it was heavenly. You fisted the sheets as you felt his length pump in and out of you quick and rough. Tears fell from your eyes as you felt his weight press against your back and his hands spread your lips apart, trying his best to get as much access to you as possible. This continued for quite some time until your legs began to shake and your body shivered in arousal, that’s when he pulled out and flipped you around so that you were facing the wall. His eyes caught sight of a lone full body mirror in the corner of the room, that’s when he got an idea. He hooked his arms underneath your knees and put you in a mating press.

“Ready?” He asked, waiting for your nod of approval before he fucked you. He began to thrust in and out of you like never before, reveling in how he made tears fall onto your chest in the midst of all that pleasure. He continued this, faster and harder, till you were begging for him to let you cum. You needed to cum and you needed to do it now.

“P-Please, Wrio..” You whimpered, too fucked out to get out the entirety of his name.

He chucked. “If you insist.”

That’s the moment he began to make quick work of your bud, again. Still, he fucked into you like a wild animal in heat. You were even beginning to wonder if the costume he wore was wearing off on him, but the thought was quickly swept away because within seconds you were cumming all over his cock. The euphoria was blinding. Your legs shook and body writhed until you ultimately fell limp in his arms.

Wriothesley shushed you and laid you onto the bed where he joined you underneath the covers, stroking your hair as he kissed your forehead. He waited until you were ready and well calmed down before helping you to the bathroom and assisting with dressing you back up in that cute costume of yours. Before leaving the room to return to the party you kissed his cheek and thanked him. Then the both of you walked out hand in hand into a crowd of people who had no clue what either of you had just done.

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #wriothesley smut

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pedge-stuff · 9 months

Text

strawberry margs (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual, yada yada.

happy belated labor day, y'all! tip your servers and thank your union reps.

(my union is on strike rn and, while it is ass, I'm very grateful for the people who are working hard to secure a better future for all of us. wga strong!)

summary: a totally normal labor day cookout with no big announcements whatsoever.

—————————————————————————

"Hey!" Pedro is slightly out of breath, flushed from the cocktail and the dry heat. Sometime in the fifteen minutes he's been gone inside the house, a tiny sombrero-on-a-headband has made its way onto his head.

He plants a kiss on your temple, slinging an arm over your shoulder; the man gets a little possessive, after a couple drinks, but not in an unpleasant way. There's a pitcher of pre-mixed margaritas on the picnic table, and only a thin finger of the same drink left in his plastic cup. You squeeze the hand that now rests on your right shoulder.

"Are you having fun?"

Truthfully, yes. Parties usually aren't your vibe, and you'd been nervous about this one, for some reason. Had expressed as much to him, beforehand.

Oscar and Elvira usually host in the summer, the little patio attached to their apartment far surpassing anyone else’s outdoor space in the city. No reason at all to be nervous— you were just here, for the 4th of July, alone, kindly invited while Pedro was still filming in Morocco. (And oh, how the summer had changed.) Had been here almost every weekend since then, while things were shut down.

But, this was the first party since… well. Since you’d put a ring on it, so-to-speak.

The social etiquette of the whole thing has you flummoxed. Are you supposed to tell people? Is that annoying? Do you just not say anything? Wait for them to notice? Take the rings off and break up so you don’t have to do this at all?

Ultimately, these are Pedro’s friends, so it’s been Pedro’s call. Not that you communicated that to him. Which might have been a mistake. Regardless, you’re deferring to him, despite the pit of stupid anxiety it left in your stomach leading up to the party.

Not that you’re not proud of the ring, either. You couldn’t be fucking happier. Social anxiety is a tricky thing, apparently. (You might have way, way overthought all of this.)

“Yeah,” you smile at Pedro, shaking cobwebs of shitty thoughts from your brain. “Yeah, this is lovely.”

Another kiss, this one soft on your lips. He tastes a little fruity, some kinda flavored syrup in the margaritas. You’d accidentally opted for an IPA that tastes like ass, so you’re just carrying around the can as a prop. His fingers are sticky from something, you discover, as he licks them clean.

The arm around your shoulder steers you towards the long picnic table, around which most of the party is gathered: the hosts, and a few extended family members you’ve definitely been introduced to, before. Sarah is here, with Holland, which is a nice surprise. The kids are deep into a game of corn hole, in the small grassy area.

You settle at the table, folding chair pulled flush against Pedro’s. A large hand palms above your knee, exposed below the inseam of your shorts. The sun is warm on your skin, fingers wet from the condensation of the can you’re pretending to nurse.

“— the AMPTP doesn’t know what they’re talking about,” Holland is saying, from where you’ve entered the conversation.

Oscar’s brother, whose name you should know by now, laughs. “Been four months now, though,” he shrugs. “You think someone would’ve budged by now, but—“

"Woah, woah." From his perch on his wife's lap, Oscar points, looking scandalized. “What the fuck is that!"

Pointing, unexpectedly, at the ring on your finger.

"Uh." Pedro's looks sheepish.

"You're joking!" A hand dramatically clutches his heart, while Oscar swoons against Elvira. "I'm wounded. Sarah, did you know about this?"

Across the table, she raises a glass, mockingly. "I picked out the ring."

"That's not true—" Pedro begins to protest.

"—Sorry, I forced him to make a fucking decision because he'd been agonizing over three options for like a month."

Pedro shrugs. "I wanted it to be perfect," he says sheepishly, "sue me!"

"No, no, backup," Oscar says. "I don't care about the rings. I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"I can," Elvira offers, "you've got a big mouth."

He groans. "It's not like it was a secret!"

Loud interruptions from across the table. "It was absolutely a secret, that's the whole point!"

Oscar throws a hand up. "You already act like you're married, is anyone surprised about this?"

"You were surprised."

"I was surprised you didn't tell me! Wounded, frankly. Irredeemably. To the core."

"Are you done?" Sarah rolls her eyes, squeezing Pedro's shoulder affectionately. "About damn time, but we're happy for you."

She gestures at Oscar. “Yeah, yeah, we’re happy for you.”

“With feeling this time.”

“Guys,” Pedro interjects, “I wasn’t keeping anything from you. It happened two days ago!”

He launches into the tale, eggplants and double-rings and all. The hand stays planted on your knee, and you take advantage, laying yours on top to thumb over the band on his ring finger. Someone tops Pedro off, and you reach for a sip— strawberry, you determine, is the marg syrup. You’re not really listening, but you lean back, content to watch him retell the story.

The next time he kisses you, as the sun sets into the Brooklyn skyline, you taste like strawberries, too.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #joel miller #din djarin #javier pena #narcos #the mandalorian #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #javier pena x reader

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collectivecloseness · 3 months

Note

okay but imagine one of the yandere fruity four (let’s say Nancy, because she’s been a bit of an example used before poor girl) just snaps and kidnaps you, without thinking about it or consulting the rest of the group. And obviously now all of them have to deal with the repercussions of her actions

Anon I am kissing you on the mouth late for valentines thank you

Things like this are so interesting though! Because if you saw Nancy kidnapping you, and she takes you to the others, home, fuck yes they are so pissed at Nancy, but now they can’t let you go. Because you saw Nancy, one of them, and they can’t put her, or any of their family (you, too, are part of their family) in danger.

So okay, you are joining the family this way. They prepared for this scenario anyway.

Of course they thought they’d have more time, because just... up and taking you would have been a last shot, if after they courted you you still said no- you weren’t sure, or you couldn’t because of some horrible reason restricting your choice :(. They would have helped you through that last alternative anyway, because they love you <3

Not all of them even thought down the taking you path... Well okay actually, all of them did, some of them would have just been a lot quieter about it than others. And some definitely would have only had it as their last, last, very last option if they were that desperate and there was nothing else they could do for you... But you’re here now. They love you. They’ll make it work, as best as they can for you. You deserve that, after everything you’ve been put through now, at the very least.

You deserve everything.

So now not only were you betrayed by one friend, but when you see your other friends, you realise you’ve been betrayed by all of them. All four of your best friends, all of them were lying to you, all of them had this crazy thing about you behind your back together, all of them were going to hurt you by keeping you here, and protect each other instead...

Like I said, the other three are pissed when Nancy tells them what she’s done. Eddie tried to run straight upstairs for you, to the spare room Nancy put you in, that they were all planning to be your room eventually anyways. But she grabs him so hard he nearly breaks his leg, gripping onto the bannister and being yanked down those first couple of steps.

Even Robin’s trying to push past, standing up to Nancy for one of the first proper times, at least physically, as she uses her height to stand practically chest to chest with Nancy, and demand she let her and Eddie go to you right now, and to not mess anything up anymore. Robin’s face serious, and dark, and pissed, as she looms in front of Nancy, a way she’s never been before, not to one of the others.

But Nancy begs everyone to listen first. She’s in tears shortly into her argument, her defence more of an apology than anything, and speeching a stance of what they can all do next, to keep this all together. She knows she fucked up. And Nancy usually doesn’t cry when trying to debate something. But Nancy knows what a whole mess this thing is, and it is entirely her fault; no one else to blame but her this time. She doesn’t want to lose the others either. And she can’t lose you, hopefully if the others stay with her, they’ll help you come back around to her too...

But when the other three first burst into your room, they are in shock.

Yeah they knew you were up here. God, they were practically scratching layers beneath their skin and bouncing the floorboards into dust, knowing you were tied up and frightened and all alone up there, but they were taking forever to talk downstairs. A family meeting without you... the last time that’ll happen, they swear okay? ...Apart from the ones where you don’t need to know something that will just upset you.

Immediately they’re running forwards and untying you. Nancy practically had your whole body bound in rope, she was really panicking after hitting you over the head and deciding to just take you.

Shock still on their faces as Eddie undoes your ear muffs and scarf blindfold from Nancy’s winter wear, wanting you to find your senses, caring about you more than anything else right now. He needs you to not be even more frightened, panicked, to know it’s him and you’re safe now and this will never happen to you again - it shouldn’t have. His hands brushing your cheeks as he removes them. His face tender and soothing and heightened with adrenaline, taking this so so seriously as he frees you, let’s you get your senses back. Keeps his hands stroking your cheeks as you see him, because you know Eddie will keep you safe.

Steve apologising profusely and promising you’re alright over and over, as he immediately moves to assessing the rope situation. Deciding to just cut them all with a pocket knife in his jeans, instead of having you in them for five more seconds. Taking it out and being thankful he has all his family here, because as you notice it’s them, your friends, coming to save you, once Eddie’s freed your eyes, you settle down enough so Steve won’t nick you, as he quickly gets to work. Fuck all this rope, Nancy shouldn’t need any more anyway, she shouldn’t be doing anything by herself anymore if she’s hurting you, and all of you, like this!

Robin breaking Eddie’s handcuffs Nancy stole that are tying you to the your bedpost, while you lay on the floor all wrapped up. She doesn’t even really know how she does it in the end. She just acts quick and makes sure not to hurt your wrist. Permanently breaking something belonging to Eddie’s personality that Nancy had twisted and used to victimise you... Robin could really mess with her right now. But at least once it’s done, it’s easier for Steve, dealing with all that rope. Used just for you, someone who wouldn’t hurt anyone. And you’ve been laying on the carpeted floor with your whole body tied up and senses stolen, with nothing even coating your injured head...

All their eyes wet and terrified and loving and soothing and deep in yours. Eddie holding your face as his dark puppy eyes stay closest to yours, walking you through some calming talk as he holds you. Steve promising he’s getting you out right now and shushing you as he says you’re okay, every time he feels it’s safe enough to look up from his knife, task oriented. Robin joining Steve the second she’s broken the cuffs, her blue eyes less teary and so determined, because she is deep in protective mode right now, letting you know when it’ll be over soon.

As soon as you see the others, especially with their shock, their runs to free you, their soothing and apologetic and horrified words, all you can think is thank god. You’re trying to tell them Nancy has suffered some kind of episode, even though you’re sure they already know that. Nancy wasn’t in this room, and they all knew where you were, they were still just shocked to see you like this.

As soon as they’ve got you free, you leap forward, and because of positioning alone, Steve is the first one you hug. He practically lifts you upright, back onto your feet, the moment he hugs you back, even if it does take him a second before he does so.

Steve sniffles as he hugs you, his toned arms shaking but not from the effort of those ropes. His cheek pressed to yours, as he blinks tears down his face, being brushed away by your hair as he lets you sink into his protective hold. Thanking him, hugging one of your best friends, because he saved you, like you knew he would.

Steve hugs you back, because he’s your hero briefly, and he’s aware this will be the last time you’ll hug him for a while. Any of them. Last time you’ll hug them like this, like the you who you still are, for a while. Steve doesn’t want you to change, Nancy shouldn’t have-

He knows this new arrangement will take some getting used to. For all of them. Especially because you probably are going to change as a person, as someone they all know, they love for who you are. But it’s okay, of course they’ll love you anyway, no matter what.

You tell them again about Nancy suffering some sort of break, clearly something is very wrong with her mental health you say, and they all say they know, which you assume they did as they knew where to find you. They’re all relishing in these last few seconds with you, mourning the normal future they know they could have had with you, by keeping their hands on you while they can right now

Steve rubbing your shoulders with his thumbs, his hands grounding you there with comfort and strength, after you pulled back from the hug. Eddie cupping your cheek and neck, still so close by, his other ringed hand cradling through your hair, and biting his lip as he tries not to think about next time he’ll be able to do this again. Robin rubbing your back up and down, her hand resting on your hip like it usually is with you, knowing she’s lost that normalcy, one type of relationship with you now.

And then you realise that all four of your friends are kidnapping you now. They’re all insane. What the fuck have they been thinking about you this entire time? Why are they doing this now? They’ve untied you from your restraints, Steve is nearly on his knees whilst keeping his hands on your shoulders, as he begs you to believe you’ll never be restrained again, but explains they’re still locking you in this room for now.

Stealing you in Steve’s slightly soundproofed house, with no neighbours in viewable distance through the trees of Hawkins around.

At least the house you were to be kept prisoner in was very lovingly built by the architect... The way out of Steve’s house was a straight line, a path easy for anyone facing that way to spot. Easy for them to see anyone leaving on. If no one came to the front door, and knowing - or rather not knowing what these four were capable of - you’re sure they’d be able to keep people away, then there’s no way you’d be spotted. And while Steve hadn’t soundproofed the house or anything dramatic like that, it did keep sound well. It kept everything in well. Which was unfortunate for you.

Begging one of them to be on your side. Doing so as soon they forlornly tell you what’s going to happen now, for the first couple of days. Like for Robin or Eddie to help you. You’re very quickly trying to refigure out your friends. But they don’t. They don’t let you free. They don’t get you the phone. They want you to know they are on your side, they tell you they don’t want you to feel like you’re all on your own, but you say that you are, because they won’t help you.

They sadly trot away, closing your door behind you, to respect you and your boundaries. Sulking away upset, even if they do understand. But if making them upset that they’re making you feel this way helps you get out, then good! But also they should feel upset! They should feel guilty!

You’ll tell them how abandoned and alone you feel, that neither of them are supporting you, you can’t trust them to be by your side, and they can’t promise you it’s untrue, because you have all this evidence to throw in their face, or to tearily testify with. They say they’ll do anything else for you, anything in the world. Even though every single thing you ask for the first day they say no to.

Nancy begging you not to blame/be mean to the others. But what else can you respond with other than actually you will keep doing so, as they are just as complicit as her because they are keeping you here.

“Do you know the law Nancy? They will also be thrown away for kidnapping. You definitely shouldn’t go for that position as a crime reporter, if you don’t know the law.”

The ‘will’ hurts Nancy. As if you really do want them all sent away to prison. Like you’d try to do that to them if they gave you that bit of freedom right now. Like you’re planning on it happening.

You don’t want Nancy to get that stupid promotion. You don’t exactly care how she feels about herself, unless it’s guilty enough to set you free... or upset enough to hurt- Unless it affects your chances of getting out of here unharmed, you couldn’t give one about her feelings.

“Also fuck you.” Is the other thing you say to Nancy. Right before she leaves you to yourself again.

They try to give you privacy, but also keep you at a level of interaction with them like before. Just like before Nancy hurt you - they are really apologetic for that, and really are glad you let them take care of your poor minor head injury. A similar amount of time that you’d interact with them everyday, before you lived with them. So you weren’t going through too many changes, and so you weren’t scared each time they did breach your new bedroom. They want you to feel normal, they really really do.

Steve mentioned to you about two weeks in, when he came in to chat with you like they all do, that if Nancy gets some promotion she’s working towards, it’ll mean more funds in the household for everyone! He says it while practically bouncing on your- the bed, with a smile. Although he quickly gets that expression on his face, the one you used to think was dorky and endearing, where he realised he may have messed up while speaking, and he quickly rectifies that of course that’s not to say anything negative about you now also pulling from the household pot, and that they’re very happy to have you, they’ve always been planning for that; especially since they know you really wanted that break because you were so burned out, so they were gonna give it to you with all their financial support. All their support in the world. Also, the amount they used to buy you gifts, or nights out, or pay for gas to see you, you were always a part of the pot anyway.

You tell Steve to go away, before he can smile for a second time today. It is very rare any of them smile, in this first week or two they have you. Sometimes they forget things aren’t like they used to be. Or they try to treat things like normal, to help you transition. But you definitely weren’t smiling, and they knew, no matter how much the fact made them want to claw their own hearts out, they knew they were the reason why. So they didn’t really feel any reason for them to smile. Not so far anyway.

#anon mwah tysm for sharing ur brain is so wrinkly I could actually go on about this tbh #yandere fruity four/reader #yandere fruity four #yandere Nancy Wheeler #Yandere Eddie Munson #Yandere Steve Harrington #Yandere Robin Buckley #yandere fruity four drabble #yandere fruity four angst #yandere fruity four x reader #yandere fruity four thoughts #stranger things #anon #ask

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