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oracle-of-dream · 6 months

Text

Snapshot

Minors DNI

Summary: You've been hired by SM Entertainment to take photos for NCT Dream's Candy album. But when Jisung is having some trouble delivering quality looks for the photos, you have to intervene and help the idol show his true face.

Warnings: !TopReader, !BottomJisung, Protected Sex, Dry Humping, Pet names

Wordcount: 3.2k

Requested from: @acidangel-fromasia

As a photographer in the industry, you’ve had to take many pictures for several people. All shapes, sizes, colors, orientations, it doesn’t matter as long as you get to hold a camera and make bank while doing it. But when you’re approached by an idol who can’t get over their camera shyness, it’s your job to help them get over it to deliver the best photos possible.

You arrived on the set that you were assigned by your company. Another SM boy group to deal with–they’re always such a handful… A colleague had to deal with almost 20 of them at the same time. Just thinking about it could give you a headache.

“Good Morning, y/n.” Someone walked up to you with coffee in a carrier.

You looked them up and down before accepting one of the coffees offered to you. “Who are you?” You asked while taking a slow sip of your new iced americano.

The younger man looked nervously at you, “I’m NCT Dream’s Manager, I’ll be working with you–”

You interrupted his mumbling, “That’s fantastic. It’s a pleasure to work with you and your group.” You were already irritated enough, you hated it more when people acted scared of you. You’re not a bad person or something!?

You went into the back room to put your supplies down and relax for a few moments while your camera crew was getting set up. Three women walked into the room shortly after, whispering to each other.

“Did you hear about the photographer we got this time? The company must hate us or something…” A woman in a green sweater said as she set down her bag and started unpacking makeup onto the table in the room.

“Yeah! I heard this guy is called the Devil’s Photographer. He’s crazy good with a camera, but he’s a nightmare to work with.” The next woman chimed, setting hair styling tools down.

The last of the three women, a very young and fresh face, just started at you through the mirror on the vanity desk. “Um… I don’t think this is nice to say.”

The other two women scoffed. “Well, aren’t you a suck-up? Maybe the lead photographer will give you selfie tips.”

You tried to sink into the seat you had in the corner of the room, wanting to stay out of their gossip. You turned your attention back to your phone with the emails explaining the people you’d be working with today.

“NCT DREAM (엔씨티 DREAM) is the 3rd sub-unit of the boy group NCT. The sub-unit consists of 7 members: Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, Jaemin and Jisung…” The email continued to explain their physical attributes as well as including prior photos of them so you could recognize them and begin analyzing their faces for good angles. One of them caught your eye, but not exactly for good reasons… He just looked so awkward in some of these photos, like he was scared of the lens. You hoped this kid was just having an off day and would behave so you could go home sooner than planned.

The set was made to the client company’s preferences you briefed your team about the theme and intention of the photo shoot. You heard the main doors to the studio open and turned to see seven handsome men walking into the studio, politely greeting the staff as they passed by and some flashing a smile. You followed them to the back room where their outfits, hair, and makeup stylists had finished getting prepared. When you stepped in, the room fell silent and everyone stared at you. You sipped your drink and cleared your throat.

“Hello, boys. I’m y/n, I’ll be your lead photographer today. I’ve been told what’s the intention of the photo shoot, but I would also appreciate your feedback when taking shots to make these better. Let’s work together on this.”

They were all very polite as they did their introduction, one at a time, to you. You took the time to start thinking about shots and how to capture their charms. Jeno and Jaemin seemed to stand out because of their muscular frames. Renjun and Chenle were both cute and refreshing, sort of like children. Haechan and Mark presented a level of professionalism, but also some mischief too. The last was the youngest, Jisung, who shyly shook your hand loosely which made your barely trying handshake look like a death grip in comparison.

“I’ll leave you to get dressed, please come right out and we’ll get started.” You announced.

The boys cheered and agreed in their way before they sat down in their seats, waiting for their turn in the styling chairs. After twenty minutes, they emerged from the dressing room and started to get to work.

As the lead photographer, you didn’t have to hold the camera and you focused mostly on telling the other photographers on your team what you wanted from them. And everything was going super smoothly. There were duo pictures, group pictures, a tri pictures, but the issues started when the solo photos began.

The other 6 were fine, but the youngest seemed to have trouble keeping his composure in front of the camera. Every photo the junior photographer took was just… off. You couldn’t verbalize it for them to see, but you could see that Jisung wasn’t comfortable in front of the camera. The other members tried to cheer him on, in an attempt to make him feel confident. But it was only making more noise on your set, irritating you further.

“Okay, hand over the camera. I’ll take his photos.” You stood from your chair and walked over to the scene. The rest of your staff stood a fair distance away from you but wanted to watch you work. Most of your staff are students in college doing an internship, so they want to learn from the best, but you hate it when people hover over you while you work.

Jisung was seated on the floor next to a bed, and large gift boxes, wearing warm and cozy clothes. You could tell he was intimidated by you, everyone always made the same face, an awkward smile and barely being able to look at you for longer than a second.

“Jisung, right?” You spoke to him, attempting to be kind.

He nodded.

“You’re the last person for photos today, let’s not drag this out. Once we’re done, then you can go home. Otherwise, it's overtime for the both of us.” Your throat got dry at the mention of overtime…

“Sorry. I’m just a little…” His voice trailed off.

You pointed the camera at his face. “A little what? Camera shy? Aren’t you a pro idol by now?”

He plastered a fake smile on. “Y-Yes, I am. It just–”

You groaned seeing his expression. You couldn’t even bring yourself to take the picture. “Jisung, please tell me what’s wrong. If there’s anything I can do to make it easier for the both of us to get through this, I’ll make it happen.”

Jisung’s face turned pink, starting from his ears and traveling to his cheeks. “I-I think you’re very handsome.”

“So I’m the distraction?” You sounded more irritated than you meant, but how could this guy say something like that? You stood up and called one of your staff to continue working on pictures. “He’s not leaving until I review all his pictures. I don’t care if I have to stay all night with him.” You stormed off into the dressing room, to avoid being a “distraction” to the idol. Taking a seat on the couch, you waited for your crew to call you back in to review the photos. But time went by… ten minutes, twenty, thirty, then an hour passed.

You opened your eyes. The room was dark, but you could tell you were still in the dressing room. You stood up, dizzy from your nap, and the motion sensor turned the lights back on. Taking a moment to get used to the light again, you slowly realized the dressing room was clean. All the supplies from the stylists were gone. And not a soul in sight…

“Those bastards left me here…” You muttered.

You walked out of the dressing room to see the set with the lights still on. Your crew was gone except for one of your interns. He looked stressed going through the photos.

“Hey! What’s the idea of leaving me in there?” You shouted.

The intern almost jumped out of his skin. “S-Sir! I didn’t know you were awake yet.” The intern looked nervously between you and the monitor. “I… haven’t gotten any decent photos yet.”

You pinched your nose as you shuffled through the photos. They somehow got even worse after you’d left.

“Jisung is still here if you’d like to take another crack at it…” The intern pointed into the set, and you saw Jisung lying on the bed. Asleep.

You looked at the young college student. “Go ahead and get out of here. Go study or drink, or whatever you do at this hour.”

The intern didn’t hesitate to bolt for the door as you made your way into the set house. Jisung was sleeping soundly on the bed, softly snoring.

“Jisung.” You called.

He rolled over, turning away from you.

You moved closer and sat on one side of the bed. You placed your hand on his shoulder and shook him. “Jisung, please wake up. We need to finish work.”

Jisung rolled into you, putting some of his weight on you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you into him.

“Jisung…” You whispered it this time, almost feeling bad for him. He looked genuinely comfortable in that moment. You looked around and saw your camera on top of the gift box nearby, but you’d have to reach for it.

You leaned forward, away from the bed, trying to grab the strap on the camera. Jisung’s body slowly slid with you, which made him squeeze you tighter and groan in protest. You reached again, but only an inch separated you from the edge of the camera. Jisung’s body slid further. You had to use one hand to hold him up and the other to reach for the camera. You made one more desperate attempt to reach for it with a lunge. You managed to grab the camera but you slipped off the bed with Jisung tumbling after you. You held his head as the two of you fell. When you landed, you managed to cushion his landing and somehow he didn’t wake up. You laid him on the floor completely, moving one leg at a time, and positioned him. Just as you pointed your camera at him, he rolled over to face you and his eyes peeked open just as the shutter clicked.

“Y-Y/n, what’s going on?!” Jisung tried shifting but realized he couldn’t in his position. “Why are you over me like this?”

You didn’t consider how you were sitting until you thought about his question. You’d positioned Jisung on his back with one of his hands above his head and you were hovering over his waist, Jisung’s other hand was gripping your shirt and he wouldn’t let go while you’d moved him earlier.

You attempted to explain yourself, “Before you get any weird thoughts–” Jisung squirmed under you and you slipped, landing firmly on his pelvis. His hands reacted and jumped to your waist to catch you. You heard a soft moan escape his lips when you landed on him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, hands glued to your waist.

“I’m… fine.”

Jisung was turning more red by the second. “This is kinda weird, huh? I really didn’t mean to offend you earlier by the way. I didn’t mean that you’re handsome–well I did mean that, but I didn’t mean that you being handsome was a distraction or anything!” Jisung was nervous and stumbling through his words, speaking too fast for his tongue to handle.

You moved to get up. “It’s whatever.”

Jisung pulled you back down to his pelvis. “It’s not whatever! I really mean it! You’re so handsome, it was a little hard for me to focus on the camera… Knowing you’re watching me.”

You felt how sincere he was between your thighs. You gently pushed your legs together, getting another high-pitched moan from him. He covered his mouth like a child getting caught swearing. “Are you enjoying me sitting here?”

Jisung looked like he was going to explode. “Would you hate me if I said yes?”

You shook your head. “I think I found a way to get your photo just right.”

Jisung looked up at you, with big eyes. “O-Okay…”

You moved a hand down his chest, slowly and sensually. “If you can focus on me, and take these good pictures. I’ll give you a special treat. How’s that?” You winked as you reached and squeezed hard on his cock in his pants, earning a louder moan from him.

Jisung shuddered under your touch, his legs quivering and bucking into you in agreement. “Y-Yes. I can do that!”

Jisung let you climb off of him, and you made it as sexy as possible. “Now, with each good photo you give me, I’ll lose a button. If I run out of buttons, you win and can have your prize. Every time I have to scold you, I put on a button. If all of my buttons are on, then no prize and we go home.” You unbuttoned the first two buttons on your shirt.

Jisung watched you in awe. You point him into his first pose, his facial expression is perfect! You took off a button, and Jisung’s eyes grew wider as he got to see more of you.

“Oh, what a good boy! Taking such good pictures for me.” You cooed.

He started fanning himself and looking around the room, trying not to start overheating from looking at you. You took 5 more perfect shorts and your button-up was completely open, and falling off your shoulders.

Jisung got closer to you. “Did I pass? Do I get my treat?” His eyes were full of desire as he imagined licking you all over your torso.

You pushed him gently. “Nope, I still have one more button.” You pointed to the button on your pants.

Jisung’s eyes opened wide. “T-That one too!?”

You nodded. “Final button. Make it perfect for me, good boy.”

You took Jisung’s last photo, his eyes were looking at the camera but he was focused on your body behind it. Bending and moving beautifully to make sure you get the perfect shot, just for him…

“All done now, pretty boy.” You put your camera down. You walked past Jisung, and he followed you, as you went to the bed on the set. You patted the bed. “Come here.”

Jisung almost launched himself at the bed to get to you.

You crawled onto the bed and sat on your knees, exposing the last button. “Why don’t you do it?”

Jisung’s hands shot to your waist as he fiddled with your pants. You took the knit hat off his head and slid his jacket off him. You heard the button pop off your pants and hit the floor. You look down at Jisung who looks back at you.

“I’m so sorry, I was so excited that it just… came off.” Jisung apologized.

You sucked your teeth. “Now, I gotta get you back for that.”

You pushed Jisung onto his back on the bed and positioned yourself between his legs. You leaned over him and brought your face to his. Jisung’s hands slid down your sides and stopped at your ass. Slowly move your lips onto his, making sure he is okay with it. Jisung met you halfway and pushed his lips into yours, slipping in his tongue not long after. His hands explored, one going to your neck to hold you into his kiss and the other felt your chest as he grinded himself into you. He moaned into your mouth at the friction when you pushed your dick against his, the fabric rubbing just right.

You knew better than to just fuck him there on the set in clothes that aren’t his and mess up the set that’s not yours, but he was too cute not to do something. You rutted against him, pressing your bodies together. Even lifting Jisung’s legs onto your shoulders and pressing into him more.

Jisung pulled away from you. “Take your pants off,” he commanded.

You looked at him, taken aback by his order. “Are you sure?”

Jisung nodded furiously, “I have… stuff with me we can use.” He climbed out from under you and ran to the dressing room, returning with a white bottle.

“Why–”

“It’s for emergencies,” he explained.

You chuckled as the both of you took off your clothes. Jisung looked embarrassed being naked in front of you, but you kissed him to make him feel comfortable.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We could get in trouble for this…” You told him.

Jisung kissed you.

“Greedy boy,” You smiled and took him onto the bed again.

You moved to grab the bottle but Jisung dutifully took it and poured clear liquid onto his fingers. He pushed his fingers in and out of himself at a pace that made you moan softly as you stroked yourself, his fingers only half in, stretching himself for what was to come. He used his other hand to give you a condom.

You put it on and lubed it generously. You could tell your length wasn't a good comparison to his fingers, it was much bigger. You pushed into him, softly and watched his expression for anything concerning. But all Jisung could do was moan for you, with every inch.

“You sound so sexy for me, baby," you whispered, "You take my cock so well."

He bucked back into you, an adorable whine leaving his lips as you continued to praise him, his head dipping down at how overwhelmed he was feeling, gripping the sheets for dear life. “H-hmm! Y/n, I'm– Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!"

You stopped moving, “now that’s too soon. Just a little more, for me?” You kissed his shoulders and up his neck.

Whimpers, moans, grunts, and skin-slapping echoed in the studio. No one else to hear how sweet Jisung’s voice was but you. Your orgasm was so close and so was his, from the way he squeeze your cock.

Jisung cried for you, "A-Ah! Y/n, please–"

"Hm, alright, baby. Come for me."

And it was what he needed to make a mess all over the covers of the bed, spots of white painting the sheets. He felt your hot cum through the latex, his groans also confirming the feeling. After making sure to milk both your orgasms with a few more thrusts, you pulled out carefully.

Jisung looked at you, breathing heavily, “Was… Was I good?"

You stifled a small laugh and kissed him. You slipped off the condom and hugged Jisung. “You did amazing, my pretty boy.”

Jisung called. “Y/n?”

You hummed in response to Jisung calling you.

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

You kissed his cheek. “As long as you’ll be only my model in the future. Honestly, I think this would be an amazing picture. Truly art, possibly my best work…”

#nct smut #jisung smut #jisung x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #park jisung smut #nct jisung #park jisung #kpop x male reader smut #jisung x male reader #nct x male reader #kpop x male reader #oracle of dreams

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hanichani · 7 months

Text

Pairing: felix x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, idol!au

Summary: felix loves giving you ponytails

Warnings: reader is considered to have hair long enough to make ponytails, sorry to all the babies that can't do that with their hair

Word count: 523

felix tying your hair up whenever he remembers.

one day he thought about how all the stays love it when the guys sport cute little ponytails and he thought…oh my god, how cute would this look on my already cute partner. so, the next time he saw you, he was ready with two little rubber bands and the patience of a single mom.

he came over one night to find you watching a movie on the couch, your hair not styled in any particular way. perfect. this boy straight up sprinted to you which you took as him being excited to see you because that’s usually how he got around you. but this time he didn’t give you his usual kiss and hello. he straddled your lap and his hands started brushing your hair out of your face. safe to say you were a bit weirded out by the chick’s unusual greeting. nonetheless, your palms went to rest on his thighs, fingers drawing little shapes on his clothed skin.

“hi lix?” you said, almost as a question but his eyes stayed on your hair and he just mumbled a quick “hi baby.”

you didn’t understand what was going on, but you’ve learned by now that sometimes it’s better not to ask so you just let him do his thing.

he continued playing with your hair (at least that’s what you thought was happening) in an oddly systematic manner. after a while you heard the sound of a rubber band being wrapped around your hair and it clicked.

when he was done playing hairstylist, he leaned back and examined his work.

his smile grew wide when he saw how incredibly adorable you looked with the two (poorly done) ponytails.

“are you done?” your question and your hands squeezing his thighs got his attention. he giggled and climbed off your lap suddenly running out of the living room. you were very confused at this point but then again, this is just what felix did sometimes.

you heard some shuffling and then he was back with the disposable camera you owned, telling you to pose for a picture.

after that was done, he sat down next to you and took your hand in his, playing with your fingers. “you’re so cute.” he said when you turned to face him. you laughed in response, muttering a small “thank you.”

it was quiet for a bit, you two looking at each other, the long-forgotten movie playing in the background and then felix spoke again. “almost as cute as hyunjin with his hair up.” he said with a smug smile on his face which made you gasp dramatically. your body fell on top his, tickling him mercilessly. “you take that back right now, I’m way cuter.” your shouting could be heard mixed with felix’s uncontrollable laughter.

and from that day on, felix would carry those rubber bands on his finger like a ring and he would tie your hair up whenever he remembered. anytime he did, he would end up gushing about how cute you were and you both knew he always found you way more adorable than hyunjin.

a/n: giving you a little fluff during kinktober hehe. also, I reached 100 followers which is so fun to me so I was thinking I could do a little something? like a little prompt event maybe... if you'd like that, please lmk!

#felix x reader #stray kids x reader #felix fluff #felix x y/n #felix x gn!reader #skz drabbles #felix drabbles #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz fluff #lee felix x reader #lee felix x y/n

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emeraldgreenbeautiesstu · 3 months

Note

MATT X READER PLS.

Then book shopping n it’s all cute n stuff 😻😻‼️

Bernard's & Noble

(see what i did there)

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Word count: 749

Alexis speaks! : hey guys! thank you for the request (the more requests, the more stories i post 😉) i'm honestly not very proud of this one, but i've deleted it four times already and this is the best i got 💀 once again, comments and likes are greatly appreciated, it helps me know if yall like my style or if i need to change anything! pls don't steal my work, love yall!

"Matttt?" i whined from my spot on the floor. i was bored out of my fucking mind. Matt wanted the day to be a 'lazy day' and by that he means he wanted to scroll social media and youtube all day. that was not my idea of fun, i've always been a hands on person whether that be going outside for hours, to the lake, reading, anything other than being lazy at home.

"whattttt?" he mocked, sitting up from his bed, his hair all messed up and funny looking.

i chuckled. "your hair looks great." i smiled, climbing to straddle his lap and fix his bed head. "better" i smiled, kissing him on the cheek. "i have a business proposal."

matt sighed, "what do you want." he rolled his eyes with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

i hopped off him, standing at the foot of his bed. "i vote we go to barnes and noble today, my book case is baren." i joked. four out of the five of my bookshelves were full completely. but you can never have too many books.

"y/n you have more books than i think i've ever seen anywhere else in my life." he laughed. matt pretended to be annoyed, but he knows the answer is yes. and not just to this scenario, the answer is always yes to everything y/n wants. she had him wrapped around her tiny little finger. "when do you want to go?" he gave in.

i jumped around the room a couple times, silently celebrated with myself. "right now silly." i said. i trotted into his bathroom where i have my own drawer of toiletries and such. i touched up my makeup and threw on my shoes. "ok i'm ready." i beamed up at him. matt basically towered over me. he's 5'8 and i'm 5'3, so there's a pretty noticeable height difference.

he slipped his own shoes on. "i'm ready." he smiled, grabbing his keys.

i just looked at him. "matt babe." i looked at his outfit. "we are not going anywhere when you are wearing basketball shorts and a wife beater. please change." i said, false seriousness evident on my features.

"oh my god i'm literally gonna shit my pants i love barnes and noble." i said, climbing out of the passenger seat. I made matt carry my three tote bags i have designated for my favorite hobby, book shopping.

"do i really have to come in." matt complained.

we had been at barnes and noble for an hour already, two out of the three of my tote bags were full. so full we had to put them by checkout because they were too heavy to carry. About 15 minutes in i had made a joke that i thought was hilarious, matt didn't really think so.

"haha, bernard's and noble." i chuckled to myself, but matt heard me.

"y/n i swear to god i will leave you here."

"deal."

i was finally ready to go, the final tote bag full. i couldn't find matt though. i wandered through the multiple sections of books, matt no where in sight. "maybe he did leave me here." i mumbled under my breath. until my eye caught matt. he was crouched down, one hand on the shelf, the other hand occupied with a book.

"whatchya readin?" i smiled over him. my heart melted when he looked up at me, a small smile on his face. i took this time to take in his beauty. the way his slight curls fell over his eyebrows, the way his middle part accentuated his face shape, the way his blue eyes went so well with his outfit. he was wearing the white shirt with 'whatever' in bold print written across it, and baggy light wash blue jeans, his keys dangling from his belt loop.

"some poetry book, i might get it it's kinda fire." he smiled.

"you read poetry?"

"i like finding the good ones and printing them out, i like to look back on the really influential ones." matt said. he stood up and took my bag, his hand resting on the small of my back.

"matt i don't deserve you, you're so sweet." a cheesy grin creeping onto my lips.

"y/n you deserve the world." he smiled down at me, kissing my forehead.

"ok now how are we gonna get all of these in the car?" i laughed.

tag list!

@cupidzsq

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #books and reading #book shop #shopping #barnes and noble

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limerenze · 1 year

Text

before and after - adrian pucey

[Adrian Pucey x Fem!Reader]

masterlist

Summary; adrian comforts y/n during + after a panic attack while they both deal with the aftermath of the second wizarding war

Word Count; 2.3k

A/N; this is based on my literal very first request. i was soooo excited to do this!!! i hope i did u justice, anon. i did tweak/add to this a little more- just so i could make it into a whole standalone but also so it could fit my writing style a little more. i do suffer with panic/anxiety attacks myself and they are not fun at all and i didn't want this to romanticize them in any way shape or form… so if you feel i did that- please know it was not my intention at all.

ALSO??? THIS IS MY FIRST FIC BACK SINCE LIKE JULYYYYY!!! HEYYY MISSED U GUYS!!!

Warnings; angst, fluff, post-war, nightmares, panic attacks, possibly a bad portrayal of panic attacks

Dates Written; January 5, 2023

It wasn't Adrian’s fault, Y/N knew that. It wasn't fair of her to blame him.

She couldn't help it though. She had done everything she could think of to avoid this happening.

Everything, short of telling him. If she had just told him, there would be no issue.

So yeah, it wasn't Adrian’s fault. If anything, it was Y/N’s.

It was Y/N’s fault that she was paralyzed in her bed. It was Y/N’s fault that Adrian was sound asleep next to her. It was her fault that it felt like an anvil had fallen on her chest and no amount of strength in the world could push it off of her. It was all her fault.

At least that's how it felt. That's how it always felt.

It always felt like Y/N’s fault. Which is why it was easier to blame Adrian.

If Adrian had known she felt such things, he would be by her side with complete and total reassurance and praise until she couldn't bare to hear it any longer.

He did everything for her. As guilty as it made her feel, sometimes she forgot he went through it all too. Sometimes she forgot he felt it all too.

He was just, so good at hiding it.

She couldn't stand the stillness of the country? Okay sure, he agreed to move to the city with her.

Their first apartment looked too much like the dormitories at Hogwarts? Totally reasonable, so he agreed to move again. This time to the heart of London, where there wasn't a moment of peace anywhere.

Turns out the city noise was too much? Adrian didn't bat an eye. He laid a loving hand on her back and told her he agreed. Then he spent every waking moment he had perfecting a muffling charm for her. He adjusted it and readjusted it until she could sleep through the night.

Adrian never complained. Not even once.

Truth be told, Adrian was happy to do it. After all, he had all the same feelings as Y/N.

Before? Before he had loved the peace that the valley mounds around their little house brought. He loved everything about the country that surrounded them. But after? After, it wasn't peaceful anymore. It was eerie. The air turned stale and he hated it. He couldn't stand it for a second longer.

Adrian wasn't sure he could ever find anything peaceful again.

Adrian didn't know what peace was anymore.

He was happy to leave the house they once called home. He was happy to rid everything from their life before.

Before didn't exist to him anymore.

Dwelling on the before was pointless now that they were in the after.

He was happy to move and move again. He was happy to mutter the imperturbable charm, a charm he perfected in the fourth year- over and over again until the girl he loved could feel a moment of peace, a moment he too strived for.

He remembers the first night the nightmares didn't wake her up. He was exhausted but he wouldn't let himself fall asleep until he heard the birds chirping. He wouldn't let himself sleep until he was sure she was okay. And when he knew she was? He was euphoric.

Adrian was ecstatic to know he helped her with that.

Y/N knew that.

That's why she couldn't bare to tell him that the nightmares had started again.

She couldn't bare to tell him none of his efforts were working. It would break her heart.

So there she lay, paralyzed.

Not in a literal sense. She could move if she wanted. Some part of her knew that.

And she did want to. She wanted nothing more than to break out of Adrian’s arms that were lightly draped over her. The rational part of her brain knew he was hardly touching her.

But the rational part of her brain was being eaten by the impending doom she felt.

Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest and her boyfriend’s skin felt like molten lava against hers.

Y/N’s breaths couldn't keep up with the speed of her heart and it felt like all her airways were being cut off. The harder Y/N tried to take a breath and the more she couldn't- the faster her heart beat.

What was the maximum heartbeat per minute before a person dies again? Y/N had read it somewhere once in some muggle textbook. For a long time, consuming the information from muggle textbooks was the only solitude she had. She couldn't remember.

It didn't matter, anyways. Whatever the number was, Y/N was sure she was approaching it quickly. To her, it was reasonable to think she would be dead in minutes.

Her breaths were quick and short, they were panicked. She felt like all she needed was one good and deep breath and everything would be okay. But she couldn't take that one breath, and so to her, nothing seemed okay. There was no end in sight.

Her ears were ringing and she didn't know how long she had been laying there. Trying to tell herself to just get up but her own fear kept her trapped on the fleece sheets.

She must've been making noise. Enough noise for Adrian to wake up beside her at least.

Adrian’s body twisted to face her entirely. He was hovering over her ever so slightly. His hand ghosted over her upper arm and his face was contorted with worry.

Usually, his hand on her body would be comforting- but right now it was the last thing she wanted. She could see with her eyes that his hand barely grazed her but it felt to her like he had the world's strongest death grip on her.

His hand seethed against her skin and her mouth was too busy trying to breathe to tell him that. Adrian’s mouth was moving but Y/N heard nothing. No words.

Just ringing.

The ringing was piercing and she couldn't decipher which part of this was the worst.

“Y/N?” Adrian called to his girlfriend. “Y/N, darling. I need you to calm down” He continued but it was no use, Y/N couldn't hear him and she was too panicked to read his lips.

“Shh, love.” He reached over to hold her and it overwhelmed Y/N enough to break out of her terrified-induced daze and push him off. Her hand laid flat on his chest and she used all her force to push him away from her.

The force she had was very little, so Adrian didn't move very far. But he understood what it meant and scooted farther away to give her the space she needed.

All he wanted was for her to feel safe.

Y/N didn't stay in the bed for very long after pushing her boyfriend off of her. She stumbled out of the bed and all but dashed into the bathroom connected to their bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Her heart was still racing and now that she was out of the bed, she could feel where her hair stuck to the back of her neck with sweat.

The bathroom tiles were cold on her feet and as she slid down the door to sit, the tiles were even colder on her bare legs. The fluorescent lights were a horrible contrast to the darkness that her bedroom held and it burned her eyes but it was the least of her worries.

“Y/N?” His voice was gentle.

She could hear it this time. That was a good sign, right?

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

‘Dumb question, Adrian’ he scolded himself in his head.

She wanted to tell him yes, but she couldn't find her voice.

“Don't come in” she managed to croak out between gasps for breath. “I’m-” Her voice cracked.

She paused for what could've been a second or an hour- she couldn't tell the difference. “I’m fine, you can go back to sleep”

“I won't leave you alone in there, Y/N” Adrian told her after a short pause himself. “I won't leave you alone”

It was a statement, but Y/N knew he meant it as a promise. Which is why she saw his shadow shuffle and settle and she knew he had taken a seat on the floor on the other side of the door.

She wanted to close her eyes but the darkness frightened her. And if she kept her eyes open, the harsh white light reminded her of all the spells being thrown around her, toward her, from her.

She needed to go where she felt safe. And that wasn't alone in the en suite.

She thought about reaching up and unlocking the door. She thought about whispering Adrian’s name and praying he understood.

But she couldn't bring herself to.

Guilt and shame washed over her and it was all she could feel.

She wanted Adrian, but did she deserve him?

Adrian sat on the other side of the slab of wood feeling helpless. He had calmed her through a hundred nightmares but never had they escalated to this. He didn't know what to do, or where to start.

He racked his brain silently, trying to think of anything that would help her. The only noise either of them could hear was Y/N’s failed attempts at steadying her breathing and her small hiccups between her sobs.

“Do you-” He stopped. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe she just needed him to leave her alone.

“Do I what?” she said back, even in distress her voice was gentle and sweet.

“Do you remember when we first moved into the house in the country?” Adrian continued.

Maybe she just needed something to focus on, other than everything running through her brain. She didn’t answer, but he knew she did. “It was our first time ever living on our own. We said all throughout the sixth and seventh year that we were gonna graduate and find a place together.” Adrian smiled at the memory.

It was from before, but it seemed when it came to Y/N- there was no before and after. There was just them.

“We got through seventh year, then our N.E.W.T.S. flew by. We looked at every listing in all of England before we found that place, tucked away in the corner of a muggle newspaper. None of the muggles wanted it, it was too secluded. I reckon the blokes who sold it to us thought we were out of our minds, taking a place like that with the shape it was in. But we didn't care. The minute we stepped foot in it, I could see on your face that you were thinking exactly what I was” Adrian paused again. Giving Y/N the chance to add to his rambling. Her hiccups had stopped, but he could still hear her slightly laboured breathing.

So he continued.

“It was our home. Then school ended and immediately we moved in. Moving the boxes was the easy part. Our trace had been lifted so we just used magic for it all. We had all of our stuff in the house within an hour. It was the unpacking and finding a home for everything that was hard.”

The two of them recalled that day in their minds. Smiles were etched onto both of their faces, not that either of them could see the other.

Just as Adrian was about to continue, Y/N spoke. “I was too busy looking through the boxes to notice that you had left me alone. I had only been in the house a few times at that point, and it took me a while to find you”

Her voice was music to his ears.

“I searched every room, and of course with my luck- you were in the last one.” Adrian could hear the smile on her face. “You stood in the middle of the empty room, not even any boxes had made their way in there yet. But you stood there, looking out the window.”

Y/N could still see the way the sun beamed onto his skin and the golden walls looked like fire. “I don't know how you knew I was standing behind you, but you did. You said-”

She was interrupted.

“This is the start of our forever” Adrian’s voice spoke gently, it made Y/N melt and suddenly she couldn't stand to be alone in the bright, cold room anymore.

Y/N pulled away from where she was sure her skin had molded to the floor, she reached up to unlock the door and pull it open.

And she saw him.

His hair was messy and his eyes were overwhelmed with worry. His old quidditch t-shirt hung loosely on his body and she would've sworn he never looked more beautiful.

“I was right, you know? That was the start, and this is our forever” He told her.

Adrian just wanted to see his girlfriend smile. And it worked, even if it was a small one.

Her heartbeat had slowed down a significant amount but it still felt foreign in her body- like it didn't belong there. And she was still hyper-aware of her the thin layer of sticky sweat that coated her body. Adrian didn't care.

“Can I-” He stopped to rephrase, “Do you want to be held?” he asked gently.

The last thing he wanted was to cause her any discomfort. But at that point, he probably needed it more than her.

Y/N nodded her head and all but threw her body forward and crashed against his chest.

His arms wrapped around her firmly and she couldn't for the life of her remember why she would ever want his touch to stop.

His touch was everything.

“Adrian?” Y/N spoke softly, not moving from where her face was buried into him.

“Yes, love?”

“Are we going to be okay?”

Adrian didn't answer for a minute. He wasn't sure he knew how.

Neither of them know how long they stayed like that for. It could've been for the rest of the night before he finally answered her question:

“Yes, love. We are.”

And there it was. Adrian’s moment of peace.

ALL FICS TAGLIST

@i-love-scott-mccall @lilyswh0re @loverssfevers @kandy1410

HARRY POTTER TAGLIST

@the-slytherin-girl @accio-samulet @lilytoyourjames @coffeehurricanes @solacestyles @iluvweasleys

join my taglist <3

#adrian pucey #adrian pucey x reader #adrian pucey imagine #adrian pucey imagines #adrian pucey fluff #adrian pucey angst #how many times can i tag adrian pucey?#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #limerenze: originals #limerenze: fics #tw nightmares #tw panic attack #tw anxiety attack

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lillywillow · 1 year

Text

Bon Appetit

Summary: After every team mission, it became a tradition to get takeout for everyone.

Written for: @buckybarnesbingo

Words: 972

Square Filled: B5- Takeout/ Pizza

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Platonic!Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: None

Nobody knows exactly how it started but all that mattered was that it became a tradition. After a long, tough mission, someone would go out and get some kind of takeout for everybody. Clint found a place in Harlem that made the best barbeque, Peter found a place in Queens that made excellent sandwiches, Tony’s go-to place was the shawarma place they went to after the Battle of New York, pretty much everyone on the team had somewhere special they liked to get food from. Sometimes, it wasn’t the greatest, like that time Bruce tried to get healthy food from a vegan place or that one time Sam ordered from a place where the burgers tasted like a sponge between two pieces of cardboard. It was usually up to the person who was the least banged up who had to go and make the order.

…

With another mission completed, The Avengers retreated back to the tower. Clint put ice packs or bags of frozen vegetables on his aching muscles, Bruce was doing some meditation, Tony slumped on the table, Nat treated her injuries… pretty much everyone needed a little quiet time after that one. Bucky was surprised how well off he actually made it out. Being in not too bad of shape, he took out a pen and a notebook.

“I’m getting pizza. What does everybody want?”

Everyone babbled their orders to him and after deciphering all the information, stood up.

“I’ll go with you,” you grunted, getting to your feet.

“You sure? You can stay here if you’re too injured.

“Nah, I’m good. Mostly just stiff. Ready to go?”

Bucky nodded and the pair of you made your way out.

…

A while later, Bucky took you to a little pizzeria that had been in Brooklyn since the 40’s.

“I’m surprised it’s still here…” Bucky muttered wistfully.

You gave him an incredulous look.

“Don’t tell me you drove all the way out here on the off chance that this place may or may not still be here…”

“No, no. I’ve been here a few times before now. Steve and I have been tracking down some of our old haunts back in the day. A lot of them are gone now but some have survived but with modern upgrades,” Bucky explained.

The inside looked like an old-fashioned pizza place, completed with a few arcade games in the corner. The man at the counter called Bucky over and asked his order in his thick, Brooklyn accent. Bucky relayed each Avenger’s order. The guy decided it would just be easier to take the whole note and went back into the kitchen.

“This place is so different from when Steve and I used to visit here. It’s all… new…”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“What?” he huffed, the blood rising to his cheeks.

“Nothing. It’s just… You look at this place and see it as new. Anyone else would look at it and think it’s old fashioned…”

He started to become flustered and defensive but you placed a hand on his arm.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Bucky. I mean, look at all the different age groups we have in our little team. There’s you and Steve from the 40’s, most of the team are roughly in the same age range and then you get Peter who’s on the modern end of the scale. We each have our own slang, our own tastes in music, our own styles but that’s what makes us great…”

Bucky smiled softly at your words.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome. Now, do you want me to teach you how to play the arcade games?” you asked.

Bucky smiled back and allowed you to teach him how to play. He was a little nervous about breaking the machines with his metal hand so you would work half the controllers. You played until your order was called up. The guy gave you some judgemental looks about some of the orders but you just shrugged, paid for the pizzas and left.

…

The moment you arrived home, the others ascended upon you like seagulls at the beach. Everyone grabbed their pizza and began eating.

“Can someone feed me? I’m too sore to move,” Scott groaned.

“Just do what I’m doing,” Clint shrugged.

He was laying back on the couch with a slice of pizza on his chest that he was slowly dragging into his mouth with each bite, grease seeping into his shirt.

“Clint, that’s disgusting. At least get a napkin,” Nat chided.

“Don’t wanna,” he whined.

“Legolas may be onto something,” Tony muttered, using a similar method to Clint but with his head and body slumped on the table.

Nat scoffed in disgust and rolled her eyes.

“I still think you guys should have given my place another chance,” Bruce mused.

“Bruce, no offense but if we’re coming off a rough mission, we want something greasy, fatty and on occasion, smothered in chocolate. Not health food,” Sam sighed, tucking into his second slice.

Bruce shrugged and finished his fill, deciding to tidy up a little.

“Next time, I know a great little Asian cuisine place,” you offered.

People muttered their agreement and continued eating.

“This is actually pretty good, Barnes,” Clint praised.

“Thanks,” Bucky smiled a little.

The team soon fell silent as everybody ate or finished eating. This was exactly what they all needed. Some time to wind down with good food and good company. Bucky would definitely have to order from there again. He felt great knowing that one of his choices brought everyone together so well and they all loved it.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #platonic reader #buckybarnes #bucky barnes bingo #bbb2022 #Takeout #Pizza #marvel fanfiction #Marvel #marvel one shot #bon appetit

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gorgeousklaystels · 9 months

Text

All’s well that ends well

A/N: thought i’d finish up this little chapter and post it here. lmk what your thoughts are :D

“Oh… crap.” Louis and Liam said, standing in their spot.

“Taylor..?” Harry said.

“We’ll give you guys a minute—”

“—no, hold on.” Harry said, signaling them to step out of the room.

“What is she doing here?”

“We were going to tell you…” Niall said, softening the shock.

“When? She’s already here.” He spoke up, frustrated.

Because he was. He was frustrated. Because how could nobody tell him his ex-girlfriend was going to show up at their doorstep?

“We’re sorry, Harry, but…”

“Unbelievable, the lot of you.”

“Alright, we’ll take care of this later, right now, Harry, please talk to Taylor.” Louis interjected.

“Fine.” He went back into the room.

—

Harry shut the door behind him.

Taylor stood there in front of him. In a pencil skirt and a white shirt. And of course, rocking her classic red lipstick.

She managed to look gorgeous in everything. She had amazing style and a sense of fashion.

But then again, she could be standing in nothing but a potato sack and still look beautiful to him.

“Hi.” She greeted, sweetly.

“Hey.” He responded, walking slightly further from the door and towards her.

“Um, do you… want something to drink, or?” Harry added awkwardly, unsure how to start the conversation.

“Oh, no. But, thank you.” Taylor said, giving him a smile at the end.

“Well, um, you wanna sit maybe?” He shrugged, gesturing toward the seats.

“Yeah, sure.” She replied, sitting down.

He took a seat right in front of her.

“So…”

“So…” Taylor responded.

Harry was still not sure what to say to her. What he wanted was virtually impossible. And this conversation would go nowhere.

“Listen, Harry, about what happened that night…” She went on, reeling him out of his thoughts.

“I’m sorry. Not just for that night, but for… blowing you off. For not responding to your texts or… or your calls or anything. You should’ve heard it from me first and foremost and I should’ve told you, I just…” Taylor stopped for a second.

Harry listened eagerly. He’d been wanting to hear her actually talk about it for so long. And she was. And he just wanted to hear her out.

“I was scared. I was scared that if I did, I’d end up not moving on… or not getting over you. And I just wanted to get out of this… cycle. The constant circles we’d been going in, Harry. Even if I value your presence in my life in whatever shape or form. Even if we get along really well, that was not healthy. And I wanted to try us. I wanted it to be real. Granted, I should’ve handled that differently.” She finished.

Harry took in what she said. Processing her words.

“Tay, we tried. But even before blowing me off, we mutually decided that we couldn’t go through with this. I mean, yeah, none of that was healthy nor was it worth the risk as much as one would like to think it was, but it was what we thought was the only way. Taylor, I tried to get you back. I wanted a real relationship with you. But you were scared. And then, all of a sudden, you’re bringing a date to the BBMAs like it’s nothing. We go through all of that, for you to go and do that. That was what blowed.” Harry ranted, not exactly sure what point he was getting across, but he needed to get things off his chest.

“I know, and I’m sorry, like I said, I was just… scared.”

He went over to the seat next to her.

“I’m not saying you couldn’t. I’m glad you were happy and you had someone there with you. But I just thought that after all we’d been through, after… after everything that happened, I wouldn’t be on the sidelines watching you be happy, I’d be there. With you.” He brushed a strand of stray hair away from her face.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Yeah. It just wasn’t… easy. Watching you with him. It actually kind of sucked.” Harry voiced his feelings.

“Like I was just waiting for you and Kendall to hit it off, right?” Taylor told him.

“Taylor Swift, do you admit to being jealous? Was that what that was?” He asked, lightening the mood.

Taylor laughed and Harry felt like he could hang the moon for her.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? At least I didn’t have my tongue down her throat. You on the other hand.”

“God, shut up!” She said, hitting his shoulder playfully, while he laughed teasingly.

Then there was a knock on the door.

“All good in there?” He heard Louis ask, voice muffled.

Harry looked at Taylor, giving her a smile. A true one this time. To which she smiled back.

“You ready to do this then?” Harry asked her for confirmation.

She took a minute to take in the moment. To really be ready.

“Yes. Let’s do this.” Taylor replied, enthusiastically yet a sense of calm in her voice.

He glanced at her for a second before turning to the door.

“Yep! All good in here, mates! You can come in!” He yelled through the door.

To which the band came running back in the studio, all smiling faces and playful voices.

Taylor looked at the scene before her and so did Harry and for the first time in a while, they both thought, maybe, just maybe, this was finally right. A step in the forward direction. No vague plans nor miscommunication. Just in the moment.

Because after all that had occurred between the two, sitting in the studio ready to write a song together, felt weirdly intimate yet a small gesture. It felt tame. It felt right.

Truly, all’s well that ends well. (To end up with you).

#harry styles #taylor swift #haylor #divorced parents #i love them #babies <3 #my parents <3 #fanfiction #harry and taylor #fypシ #tumblr fyp #fyp #foryou #viralpost

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hammerhead-jpg · 10 months

Text

Ok so @bi-polar-geminii already made a post about this and had fruitful discussions about it but I feel like what I have to say might be too long to fit in their asks but

I definitely agree that SOME redacted artists seem to be unable of drawing diverse characters, keyword SOME because this fandom is one that definitely has a majority of lovely designs

And before I continue I want to point out that I am a snow cockroach myself so maybe I shouldn't be the one discussing this but obviously diversity is not just about race, it's about everything on a person like sexuality, ethnicity, nationality, body type, facial features and structures, hair textures and overall small features and accessories that differentiate the person

Honestly this is something that I've been thinking about for a long while and I won't name drop anyone because this isn't a call out post and I'm not looking to start drama (even though there is a certain someone that comes to mind but we won't talk about that) but I was scared that people would get really pissy.

I know that diversity is something that could be classified under artistic skill and I believe that not every artist who posts on social media can't just draw for fun and as a hobby without having the goal of improving but I do also think that diversity is not only a type of skill in character design but also a small gift to anyone that doesn't fit the the perfect beauty standards and when you seemingly refuse to draw anyone that doesn't fit that standard and like, only draw tank, Milo n Alexis as brownskin then that just kinda seems icky

And btw I'm not saying that it's bad to draw those three as poc (hell my tank is darkskin) but there's a difference between drawing a good chunk of the characters as brownskin/darkskin (obv including characters that don't fit/go against the racist stereotypes) and and those three just kinda end up being part of that group and then like all of your characters being crackers and only them being poc

I'm just saying it wouldn't kill you not to make all of your listener designs the same pretty faced preppy saltine sister and every male character the same dorito back webtoon guy but just with different hairstyles, clothing styles and maybe sometimes body types (but never even slightly chubby cuz god forbid)

And also, can we get some listeners that are male/masc?

This is something that I was kinda scared to talk about because like 90% of the fandom will draw like 90% of their listener ocs as women or very fem presenting and I definitely have quite a few listener designs that are very feminine or could be assumed women on first glances and again, the listener characters are gender neutral for a reason and they are at the end of the day supposed to be self inserts so the redacted fandom being majority fem/women it makes sense that they would make majorly fem/women listener ocs but like... If you're already making ocs would it kill you to make at least ONE of them masc/male? Like at least one you don't care about?

And I know saying that people should make more masc/male listener sounds kinda???? misogynistic???? But I'm not saying that because I think that male representation is a thing but because I think queer representation is a thing

I just think that maybe just maybe a little gay people wouldn't hurt??? Pretty please???with a cherry on top????

And damihux doesn't count!!! You don't get to draw them once and be the ultimate gay ally but ofc only on gay month because any other and you might get sent to hell!!! /hj

Just saying when naive little may 2022 me just finished watching freelancer and Gavin team tag Lasko (but not really because I'm literally a mineral and don't have the Patreon) and then went on social media just to see that the fandom was full of STRAGGOTS my jaw hit the submarine

And just, as we close off I know I'm not the ultimate master of diversity, my designs still fall under the pretty face fluffy hair m shaped bangs that definitely look too young for their age but I'm still working on making my character designs look distinct and diverse, and I will be actively working on it for like forever but I definitely won't lie to myself and say that I haven't improved from my dolphin smooth same face syndrome anime boy faze when I only ever wanted to put facial hair on a character when they were past the age of 27 but only put it on the jaw so they just ended up looking like Abraham Lincoln- so I know that I will get better at it eventually

I too look at more talented who are way better at making distinct designs and making designs for characters who don't have to rely on beauty standards to be absolutely gorgeous and feel bad, especially when basically the whole fandom simultaneously descides that a character is poc, a decision that I missed out on and then the fact that my design is seemingly the only one that is white makes me feel like those people that turn objects into people but just end up making them the same breed of sexy anime boy that nobody likes

So if you're insecure about your designs not being distinct enough the best advice I can give is to step out of your comfort zone and actively look for little details that might make a character unique and you'll get there

In conclusion, people who descide to be a conformist (/j) and draw Gavin with a human skin tone but then make him as pale as an uncooked chicken breast when he's specifically described as tan are kinda weird<3333

Also UNPOPULAR OPINION ‼️‼️

People who make their Lovely oc fem/a woman are DELUSIONAL ‼️ and are LYING TO THEMSELVES and are going to miss out on all the sexy fanfiction I'm going to write about Vincent riding their girthy monster cock ‼️( SLASH J EVERYBODY!!!!!!)

At the end of the day, people can draw whatever they want, but people can also say whatever they want in response to it, so you can't be mad if someone that's not even talking about you directly says that they find it strange that some people act like drawing a person that's not completely cis, white, straight, able bodied and a super model without it being some sort of subconscious stereotype will give them the plague

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redactedaudio #redacted art #discussions

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itsclydebitches · 2 years

Text

OFMD Party Drabble #5

Prompt: AUs

Warnings: Izzy's use of reclaimed slurs, allusions to the AIDS crisis

A/N: I had so much fun writing this AU yesterday, I simply had to continue it :D

Some young poof had been staring at him since he got on the tube.

Izzy grit his teeth and bore it, well used to people tracing him with their eyes like he’d fucking begged them to. Sometimes it was due to his style: leather, piercings, tattoos, a sharp undercut that had been getting shorter as the years went by, his hair no longer keeping its shape even with the fuck-ton of product he put in it. There were all types in London, but not as many who exuded his level of ‘Fuck You’ into their fifties. Sometimes though it was the burn scars on his right arm. The prominent ‘X’ on his cheek. The way he scowled out at the entire world, apparently tempting others to catch his eye and offer an insincere smile, like humoring him was their good deed for the day.

Or maybe it was the SILENCE = DEATH patch on his jacket.

The boy wasn’t shy about his own identity and no, it wasn’t just because of his god-awful outfit that Izzy knew he would have once worn the same earrings. He would have pegged the boy for a fellow queer based on the crop top, neon shorts, and—fucking hell, were those light-up sneakers?—alone, but Fang had drilled it into his admittedly thick skull that this was a new world they were living in, one where anyone could wear anything without it having a whole fucking code built into it. On the days when Izzy wasn’t seething over the terrible passage of time he was internally, privately rejoicing that none of these kids had to go through the shit he had. Or at least, they had their own, slightly less deadly brand of shit to deal with, but what was progress if it wasn’t some guy showing off enough skin for the strip club, all but sitting in another guy’s lap, on an otherwise average Tuesday morning with no one batting an eye? The staring was as cathartic as it was annoying, though Izzy was inclined to let it pass just this once. Provided the fucking kid didn’t try to tell him off for a pink triangle, or the massive QUEER stitched into his collar. It was too early to deal with babies telling him his identity was ‘problematic’ after four fucking decades of fighting for the confidence to claim it.

You’re being pessimistic again, Fang’s voice whispered and Izzy grumbled into his phone.

He’d just resigned himself to the unwanted, but ultimately harmless attention when the boy stood. He kissed his partner, all but sauntered down the car... and ended up leaning on the pole above Izzy, twiddling his fingers in a ‘hello.’

No, no, no, absolutely fucking not.

“Whatever you’re selling,” he growled, “or preaching, or offering—” Izzy looked up then, making contact with a lazy smirk and glossed lips. “—or think you want to say to me: don’t.”

Impossibly, that smirk got wider. Izzy really was losing his touch if he couldn’t even intimidate the youngins anymore.

“My, my, aren’t we feisty.” The boy jutted out his hip, fiddling with a small scarf like someone had paid him for it, and Izzy prayed that they would crash, freeing him of whatever the hell this morning had become. What the fuck was up with him meeting weirdos lately?

The reminder of Stede brought a pang of disappointment. Izzy ruthlessly shoved it aside.

“You know,” the boy continued, entirely undaunted by Izzy’s glare, “I am tempted to offer you something now. I know Pete wouldn’t mind,” and he jerked his head towards the bald man in a ripped jean vest, smiling at them and—fucking shit—taking a picture. Izzy was halfway out of his seat to confront him when a manicured hand nudged his shoulder. “Easy, easy. You’re Izzy Hands, right?”

Izzy blinked.

These tube rides were getting too fucking surreal.

“...How the hell do you know my name?”

The boy just grinned. “Bingo! Hell yeah, I win the prize. Ah, sorry. I guess that did come across a bit stalker-ish, huh? I’m Lucius, intern at the V&A.” He said that as if it cleared up a goddamn thing. At Izzy’s blank look he said, “The Victoria and Albert Museum?”

“I know what ‘V&A’ stands for, you absolute twat.”

“Okay, jeez, cool your jets. It’s just... that’s where Stede works?” Lucius glanced back at Pete who shrugged, looking lost. “You’re... friends?”

Izzy’s brain had ground to a halt. It was too early. Too little coffee. Too many confusing fuckers with bright clothes and enticing smiles. He was friends with Stede Bonnet? The nosy guy who’d given him a disconnected number?

Yet Lucius was still talking. About how much Stede had gushed about Not A Sailor Izzy during their work hours, to the annoyance of everyone within earshot, to the point where his leather-clad, goatee, “Leave her, Johnny” appearance was pretty distinctive to anyone who’d suffered through Stede’s need to fill the silence. Such an interesting man! So confident! I do hope he’ll call! Except Izzy hadn’t called and now here Lucius was, sharing the same car and considering whether he needed to exact vengeance for his boss.

“Except,” Lucius said slowly, eyeing him up and down, “you don’t look like a guy who flirted and ditched.”

Yeah, because he hadn’t. He wasn’t. Izzy had called that number for a solid two weeks, despite the dead beeping on the other end, because Stede’s stupid, genuine smile had haunted him and Edward was up in arms over meeting the ‘fancy man’ Izzy had found. They’d come closest to being the stalkers, scouring the web for any mention of a Stede Bonnet, but if the man had a social media life, it was too damn deep for them to find. Edward had demanded that they keep trying though, sure that anyone who caught Izzy’s attention, even for a moment, was well worth the effort.

Which was why Izzy still had that stupid strip of paper in his wallet, now creased and sweat-stained. He tore it out and shoved it under Lucius’ nose.

“This Stede Bonnet?” he hissed.

Lucius stared.

“...oh for fuck’s sake. Pete!”

And he was running off, pawing at his boyfriend, eventually coming up with a pen and laboriously writing on the back of the paper, using Pete’s shoulder for leverage. When Lucius returned he looked as if he’d swallowed a spike-laden lemon.

“Did you know,” he grit out, “that Stede’s handwriting makes the clumsiest doctor’s look like perfect print?”

The paper reappeared in Izzy’s hand, Lucius’ looping script now under Stede’s—yes—horrendous chicken scratch. That number, apparently, was a four. And that was a six?

“Fuck off,” Izzy whispered.

“I know.”

“Fuck him.”

“I know!”

They pulled into the next station and with a sudden curse Lucius was scrambling, Pete grabbing their bags and tugging him towards the door. He waved and called out as he was leaving,

“Please fuck him. Or don’t. Just call and put us all out of our misery. And if you decide to go with the not fucking option, feel free to call us instead!”

“Call—?” Izzy stared at Lucius blowing him a kiss, Pete grinning ear-to-ear. “Lucius, I don’t have your fucking number!”

But the doors had already closed.

Half the car was looking at them now. Izzy flipped off the majority before pulling out his phone and taking a picture of the now legible number—just in case. He considered calling Stede now... but no. Best wait until he wasn’t fit to bite the fool’s head off.

Instead, Izzy brought Ed’s messages back up, thumb tracing all those stupid heart emojis.

Good news, Boss—your ‘Project Fancy Man’ is back on track.

#OFMD #Our Flag Means Death #GentleHands #SteddyHands #Izzy Hands #Stede Bonnet #OFMD Party #OFMDfic #might do a whole series #of poor Izzy meeting people on the tube #slowly trying to make the SteddyHands work lol

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wellthatwasaletdown · 1 year

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/wellthatwasaletdown/713601858580742144/how-harry-styles-reinvented-the-playboy

I couldn't read the whole article because it's not free. But I find it funny how the title says "reinvented the playboy" while the sub headlines says he's "championing respectful relationships". Like you can't call someone a fuckboy and says he's a champion at RESPECTFUL relationships the very next thing. The oxymoron used is weak af

Here you go.

From here:

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/how-harry-styles-reinvented-the-playboy-9h36p6pd2

The Sunday Times

How Harry Styles reinvented the playboy

No mud-slinging exes or disgruntled girlfriends here — the heartthrob singer is championing respectful relationships

Like every former boybander in search of a solo career, Harry Styles had to create a new identity when One Direction split in 2016. But he didn’t just reinvent himself for the post-1D era. Styles, 29, has also been credited with reinventing manhood for a modern-day audience.

“Harry Styles is rewriting the rules of masculinity on his terms,” raved the women’s magazine Grazia in 2021. The New York Times heralded Styles last year for his “liberated” take on gender. That liberated take, though, hasn’t precluded him from reportedly having lots (and lots) of girlfriends.

According to reports this week, the model and actress Emily Ratajkowski is the latest in a string of famous and gorgeous women with whom Styles has been linked. There was the late Caroline Flack, who was presenting The Xtra Factor, the sister show of The X Factor, when Styles was a contestant in 2010 (she was 32 and he was 17). After that he went out with the comedian Emily Atack for a short time.

Styles’ last public relationship was with the actress and director Olivia Wilde, who he met when he worked on the film Don’t Worry Darling.

He also dated Kendall Jenner. His relationship with Taylor Swift was brief, but creatively fertile: her album 1989 is rumoured to be shaped by their romance. There was a scattering of Victoria’s Secret models in between. Most recently, he was involved with the director Olivia Wilde (who cast him in the film Don’t Worry Darling) in the middle of a messy break-up with the father of her two children, the actor Jason Sudeikis.

There’s something quite retro about Styles’s romantic history, matching the dreamy Seventies influence in his music. His capacity for hooking up with the most impressive beauties of his era recalls the great shaggers of the 20th century — men like Mick Jagger, Warren Beatty and David Bowie, all of whom seemed to have had a cheerful kid-in-a-candy store attitude to sexual possibilities afforded by celebrity.

But serial dating can look tawdry rather than glamorous in the 21st century. Think of the general shudder greeting the actor Leonardo DiCaprio’s endless procession of young girlfriends, none of whom seem to last beyond their 25th birthday.

So how does Styles do it? He has always rejected the playboy label, and his version of maturity is different from the laddish one espoused by previous teen idols turned adult stars. See Robbie Williams, obliterating his Take That pinup status in 1995 by partying with Oasis at Glastonbury. Or Justin Timberlake, making vulgar comments about his ex Britney Spears in 2002 to kill off his nice-guy ’N Sync image.

Styles is known for his flamboyant looks and defying masculine conventions.

No such boorishness for Styles. He is, instead, the gold standard of modern sensitivity. He wore a dress on the cover of Vogue, and a sheer blouse and pearl earring to the Met Gala in New York. In the film My Policeman, he played one half of a tender gay romance, and he’s lent his support to causes including Black Lives Matter and LGBT rights. At one concert, he supported a fan in coming out to her mother, leading the whole audience in a chant of: “Tina, she’s gay.”

This image has helped to make him staggeringly successful: his 2022 album Harry’s House broke streaming records, won best album at the Brits and the Grammys and spawned a 15-night residency at New York’s Madison Square Garden. Coupled with his delicate handsomeness, this may explain the queue of girlfriends.

Like his ex Swift, Styles has pointed out that he doesn’t actually date more than the average person his age — he just attracts more attention when he does. In the case of Ratajkowski, one photograph of the two kissing in the street in Tokyo has been worldwide news for days.

Styles also dated Kendall Jenner. He likes to remain on good terms with his exes.

In response, Styles maintains the gentlemanly habit of rarely discussing his love life. It’s not far off the old music industry wisdom that heartthrobs should avoid relationships to keep themselves notionally available to their fans. But it also protects him. Having been famous since he was 16, Styles has had to learn to draw a line between his public and private selves to survive. And it protects the woman he’s with from jealous fans, who perceive any girlfriend as a rival to be attacked. A corner of his fandom can be “crazy” and “mean”, he has said.

Styles’s respect for his partners is in line with contemporary manners. Timberlake initially gained credibility for trashing Spears but by 2021, at the peak of #FreeBritney outrage, upset fans pushed him into a grovelling apology nearly 20 years on. Chivalry is back in fashion.

Styles also gets points for his apparent fearlessness around women who are impressive on their own terms. While the age gap with Flack raised eyebrows at the time, he’s subsequently been linked to multiple older, accomplished women.

Unlike a lot of famous men, he seems happy to be with an equal — or even, in the case of Swift, her muse. He also keeps things amicable post-break-up and has made friendly appearances with Swift and Jenner.

Beatty is also known for keeping his exes close. “What happens is fame gives you access, so you’re lucky enough to be exposed to these very admirable women,” the actor said in 2016. “Not just physically beautiful, but great people and talented and intelligent people.”

Harry Styles hasn’t reinvented masculinity but maybe he’s rediscovered the trick that separates a great lover from a playboy: he actually seems to like women, as well as wanting to sleep with them.

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honeyblockm · 10 months

Note

i literally just read over my own old (hermitcraft based) wrestling au tonight for no reason. how the hell did that happen at the same time. anyway more dsmp wrestling au thoughts Blease

Omg 2 wrestling aus.. anon I would love to hear about yours too!

ok so i built this one around c!quackity bc. im predictable. i did write a fic (you don't have to love it) on this, and i still stand mostly by what i established in that fic but theres some stuff ive moved around in my head now bc i made that au and fic when i first got into wrestling. there's not a lot of worldbuilding? japan exists. the promos are different and i havent. named. any of them.

but um yeah cquackity's deal is that he starts as. uh. enhancement talent. and basically gets his ass kicked all the time until he completely brutalizes cdream in a match and starts his rise into becoming a really popular heel wrestler. this is a metaphor for las nevadas. anyways yeah he starts the LN stable and has a fun time being a evil guy for the cameras. in my head cdteam start off as a shield-like faction that are like, massively popular until they split apart after cdream turns heel. well. it's more like cdream pulling the team towards being more evil n stuff until csapnap turns face and like. hits him with a steel chair. this is also compounded but out of kayfabe, actual conflict between the three. csapnap is the son of bbh, another well known wrestler. i think he's retired now. he does voiceover. his (sapnap's) gimmick is being a demon. karl's gimmick is being a time traveler and he's billed as being "from the year 2077" or something and his gear is always very colorful and very weird. he's fun! he's known quackity pretty much since they started wrestling. as of LN era, ksq are all dating out of kayfabe and completely fine this is my au and i can do what i want.

uhhh. cwilbur also has a wrestler dad (phil) who is still active and still in frighteningly good shape despite being old. does he age? nobody knows. wil was decently successful as a wrestler i think until shit kind of went downhill wilbur style and he had a breakdown that led to him getting a really serious injury. and then he stopped wrestling for several years. until he comes back to fucken. antagonize quackity. i think they are good friends out of kayfabe though but in the ring they have a really bloody and intense feud and people online make homoerotic gifs of their matches. you know how it is.

ctechno is legendary. his gimmick is that he is a big scary monster who follows the blood god. he's an interesting guy in real life. his twitter is full of him tweeting leftist shit except he always stays in character.

#asks #yens

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fiction-is-the-new-reality · 5 months

Text

Pt 1: Searching for Spector

word count: 3k

warnings: violence, language, afab!reader

summary: You’re asked by Fury to track down Moon Knight and keep an eye on him.

second part here

a/n: this is basically just setting things up for the next part. I didn’t want to put too much in this first part because it felt like it was too long winded. Pls reblog and interact and give feedback!! Thank you!

Even though Fury “retired” and made it seem like he wasn’t involved in the matters of heroes anymore, he still stayed up to date with new candidates and threats. Which is why when a new vigilante appeared in an all-white suit and used magical moon-shaped weapons, he believed it warranted close attention.

This is where you come in. As one of his recruits (and closest friend according to you) he trusted your skill set to keep an eye on this “Moon Knight” and stop him if needed.

Walking into Fury’s man cave is like walking into a mini Avengers compound, full of weapons and security footage of different locations. The man himself sat in a chair at the head of a table.

“Jesus Fury, paranoid much?” The joke was met with an unamused face.

“Can’t be too safe these days. Without Shield or the Avengers, there are a lot of people who think it’s a free-for-all. I like to remind them that there are still heroes out there.” His words make you wonder who else he’s worked with recently.

“I have a mission for you. There’s a new man on the scene. Dressed in a white hooded get-up, and goes by the name Moon Knight. Seems to be supernaturally powered.” He presses a button on a remote, filling the screens with sightings of Moon Knight. You watch his fighting style and try to learn his rhythm. But it was difficult. In some videos, the fighting style differs completely from the others. It looks like two different people.

He turns to you. “I want you to track him. Figure out why he’s doing what he’s doing.” He stares at you, waiting for a response.

“Are we sure it’s just one guy? His technique switches in some of the videos.” You say out loud, but it’s more rhetorical than anything.

“Meet Marc Spector. Born in Chicago, the son of a rabbi. Enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps and served for three years. While in a fugue state, he went AWOL, got discharged because of it. The last he was seen was with Raoul Bushman. While Spector is a little harder to get on camera, we know Bushman’s last known whereabouts are in Egypt. He’s not the type of guy you have as a friend. If our guy runs with him, it could mean trouble.”

The image that pops up throws you off. You lean on the table, getting closer to the screen. He’s beautiful. He looks like nothing you were imagining. His brown eyes have sadness and something mysterious about them. His dark brown curly hair was somewhat frizzy and his jawline was so sharp it could cut diamonds.

“Bushman isn’t my concern here. Get to Marc and figure him out.”

“I got a guy who owes me a favor in Egypt. I’ll see if he’s heard about Bushman. When do I leave?”

“Now,” He slides an envelope across the table. Inside is a passport, some currency, and a picture of Bushman. “You’re going in deep. The reason for this stays between us.”

“Of course, Fury, this ain’t my first rodeo.” You boast with a slight smile. He rolls his eyes and while his tone is dry, you don’t miss the slight smile on his face as he tells you to leave.

Before you take the intel and step out, you turn back to Fury.

“Why are you trusting me to do this?”

He looks at you for a second before answering. “Sage you’ve always been skilled at what you do. You’ve always gotten the job done. I don’t think there’s been one person you haven't been able to take down. When I got back from being dusted, I learned about what you occupied your time with during the Blimp. I saw the footage.” He pauses for a moment. You hold your breath as you wait for him to finish.

“It was you, but you were different. You’ve changed. Gotten a sharper edge to you now. That’s what I need nowadays. I’ve seen the way this guy handles business, and I need someone I know that can stop him.”

You let out the air in your lungs as you grab the envelope off the table. You give Fury a small smile before turning to leave.

Reaching out to your connection pays off. He gives you the name of a club that Bushman frequents and that he had been seen at a few weeks ago. You waste no time after landing. It’s late and this is prime time for a crime-lord to be out. Taking a taxi, you find yourself in front of a seedy club.

The heat of the building is enough to make you feel like you’re suffocating. The music’s so loud that it’s thumping in your ears. You take note of the shady characters lurking around the club. Trying not to draw attention, you quickly get to the bar and order a drink. You watch the crowd as you wait for Bushman. You’ve moved on to a second drink and have opted to watch from a small table towards the front of the bar.

When the back door of the club swings open you have no doubt that it’s Raoul Bushman. He’s massive, and the look in his eyes tells you that he has no problem dirtying his hands. People like him always have that look in their eyes, like they could snap at any moment. You sink further into your seat to be certain he wont see you. You’ve already formed a plan. You'll follow him out of the bar. Maybe he'll lead you to Moon Knight. Or at least find you a better lead. Someone who knows where Marc Spector has gone.

The night drags on as you watch him drink and get friendly with a few women.And while the place is full of criminals, the atmosphere isn’t hostile. You decide to leave and wait outside. The longer you stay in there, the more likely he is to notice your face. As you debating going outside, you hear him mention to his men to be ready to leave soon. You take that as a sign to leave.

Outside, the streets prove to be much quieter. You breathe in deep, trying to get as much air as possible after being in the stuffy club. Once you feel you can breathe properly again, you take in the full moon and how it washes everything in an almost unnoticeable sheen of silver. Walking across the street you blend in with a crowd at a food truck as you wait for them to exit.

A few moments later, the door swings open as Raoul and some of his men leave the club. You keep your back towards them, and use your enhanced hearing to know what they're doing. As they all walk towards the parked cars, you make your way back across the street.

Back in the same lot with them, you swiftly move around cars and avoid the drunken fools wandering outside. Quickly pressing yourself against a truck that wasn’t too close to them, you hold your breath to hear them. Bushman stands at the head of the circle, his men flanking his side.

He begins to speak to the men, discussing their upcoming mission and the approach to obtain their reward. He doesn’t mention Moon Knight or Marc Spector; he doesn’t even hint at them having any added help from someone who is superly inclined. The meeting quickly ends and everyone starts making their way to their cars.

Silently crawling away and doing some peekaboo from behind cars, you spot Bushman’s car. Crouching down, you pull the small tracker gun out of your pocket. Loading the tag and setting the tool up on the ground gives you the perfect shot at the tire. As you focus the scope and breathe out, you hear a small tink as the tracker leaves the barrel.

It emits a small yellowish glow, like the glow of a firefly, before it attaches to the tire. You slink into the shadows of the night as he climbs into the car and wastes no time driving off. Gravel and sand fly into the air as the tires spin. Now all you have to do is wait for him to stop moving and see if he’s led you straight to Moon Knight.

After Bushman has sat in one spot for long enough, you hail a taxi and give an address up the street from his location. The location on the device leads you to a small lodging place on the outskirts of the city. It’s close to the vast desert that you can see the silhouettes of the pyramids looming behind the little shack.

Wanting to get a feel for the little area, you begin to sneak around. Making sure that the only patrolmen are the ones who are all drinking and smoking a funny-smelling cigarette. You stay close to the ground as you get closer to the men.

Coming up behind them, you quickly disarm the two with guns. In one swift motion, you snatch the gun from one and deliver a forceful strike to the owner’s head with the stock. He stumbles backward and you send him tumbling backwards with a kick to the chest. The other one with the gun tries to point it at you but his moving too slowly and it’s comical how easily you disarm him. Taking hold of the barrel of the gun, you shove it at him, hitting him square in the chest. You pull the weapon towards you, which brings the man who is still holding on to it. As he enters your personal space, you slam your head into him. He quickly drops the gun to hold his broken nose. But before he can, you backhand him, knocking him out.

You’re moving too quickly for the other two to call for help. Grabbing one by the collar of his shirt, you drive him down on the ground, before picking him back up and throwing him a few feet into the desert. You watch him to see if he’ll get back up, but he doesn’t. He just lays there, sprawled out like a starfish. The last remaining guy tries to put up a fight, but you drop into a squatting position and sweep your leg under his. Once he lands on his back, you straddle him. You position your hands firmly over his mouth and nose, cutting off his oxygen. A few moments pass and finally, he falls unconscious.

Making it to the back of the small building, you jump up to grab ahold of the edge. Latching your hands on you pull yourself up on the roof as quietly as possible. You hear three heartbeats inside the shack, you wonder if any belong to Moon Knight. You’re about to crash through the roof until you decide to just wait for Bushman to be alone.

You lie down on your back and watch the stars. You can’t stop your mind from wandering back to before the Blimp. Everything was going great, you had gotten out of the superhero life and had finally started seeing a therapist. Albit state mandated, but nonetheless you were still going. But then everything with Thanos happened.

You shiver as you remember when he had made his appearance in Wakanda. The feeling of absolute terror he had caused as you watched your friends turn to dust right before your eyes. Bucky had went to reach out for you right as he fell, barely touching your hand before he was just gone. Thinking about it for too long made your left hand itch. And then those years after still show up in your dreams. The emptiness of it all, most of your friends being gone and the how it was quiet all the time. It continues to haunt you.

You’re shaken out of your memories when you hear the door to the shack close.

Creeping over to the edge, you see his bald head. He strikes a match and lights his cigarette. Moving quickly, you scale down the building and appear beside him on the porch. He has his back to you and you know from his body language, he’s unaware of your presence. You lunge forward, kicking the back of his knee and gripping his arm. He stumbles forward and you pin him against the wall. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and angry.

“Alert your men and you’re all dead. I just have some questions and then I’m gone.” He considers your words for a moment and you can feel him twitching, trying his hardest to get away. He tries for a few more moments before realizing he can't overpower you. Years of doing this have led you to be great at reading people. So it doesnt surprise you when he tries to yell. Twisting him around, you grab his head and yank it down in contact with your knee, with a loud smack. He goes cross-eyed and slacked jaw for a moment. You give him a second to collect his thoughts.

“Let’s try it again. I want information on someone and I know you have it. Give me the information and I forget that I saw you.”

“What type of information are we talking about?” His words are slightly slurred. You most likely fractured a few teeth.

“I need the whereabouts of someone that you ran with.”

He grits his jaw. “I help a lot of people. You think I remember all of them?”

You pull out a small piece of paper that has Marc’s military photo on it. You hold it in front of Bushman’s face.

“What about this guy? You remember him?”

He glares at the picture for too long before looking back at you through his brows. Anger is all over his face. “Never seen that prick in my life.”

“Hmm, that was so very believable.” Your voice is laced with sarcasm. “I know for a fact that you know this guy. I have evidence of you two getting into some shit together-” You pull out a knife and tap it on the side of his head, “so, you want to try again?”

A staring content has started to take place as you wait for him to decide what he wants to do.

“What’s in it for me? I’m not giving free information, I dont do charity.”

You roll your eyes. Everyone is always so greedy.

“I’ll give you six months of immunity.”

He eyes you skeptically, “You don’t have that power.”

“You’re right, but I know people who do. Tell me what you know and you’ll be protected.”

You bring the picture back into his vision.

“His name is Marc Spector. We had a job together a while ago. Marc got greedy and wanted all the treasure for himself.” You hear his heart skip a beat and you smell the lie on his skin.

“You’re lying. Tell the truth.” You chide. He gives you a look that is supposed to be intimidating but has no effect. You raise an eyebrow and touch the blade of the knife to his neck.

“I got greedy and wanted all the treasure for myself. I was killing everyone around me, and I was doing wonderfully till Marc decided that killing was too horrible. He tried to stop me. So I killed him, can’t have any witnesses. I left him for dead in the middle of the desert.”

There was no lie.

“You haven’t seen him since?”

“What part of leaving him dead do you not understand? He’s dead. I shot him twice. If that didn’t kill him then bleeding out and starving did.”

He truly has no idea that not only is Marc very much alive, but he’s Moon Knight.

You let out a grunt of acknowledgment.

Letting go of Bushman’s arm, it snaps towards his gun. But before he even realizes it, you’re already swinging your fist down towards his head. The contact stuns him before you wrap both arms around his head in a chokehold. Holding on as tight as you can as he begins to claw at your arms. He starts thrashing his body around, trying his hardest to get you off of him. It was all a wasted effort. You continue to squeeze his neck. His body starts relaxing and once you hear his heartbeat calm down and feel him fall limp, you release him.

Wanting to give yourself time to think, you begin walking. Once you dodge the last few men at the front of the property, you start your long walk down the rural road.

The sun begins to graces the world with its light as you get closer to town. You’re hit with memories, but this time you don’t fight them. You allow yourself to remember all those overnight missions you had with the Avengers. The times that you would switch watch with Nat. The late nights you'd stay up training instead of sleeping, and how Steve always seemed to know and would join you. Which would lead you to grab breakfast at a fast-food joint. The early morning coffee you’d share in silence with Tony as the sun lit up the Avengers compound. The smile on your face is sad. You’re lucky enough to have these memories with those you lost, but also damned to have to live with them just as memories now.

Your vision blurs as your eyes sting with newly formed tears. But you can’t let yourself cry, so you swallow the lump in your throat and shake the memories from your head. A ping is heard from your phone. Unlocking it, you see a notification.

From one of the surveillance cameras that you had programmed to scan faces and match them with Marc’s. Stating: Face Detected.

Your heart thumps faster as you see the face. It’s Marc Spector in broad daylight. In the middle of London.

Taglist: @suddenlysteven @skyesayshi @akirashindou @nefix99 @the-last-spoken-word @flowercrownonapegion @norasgalaxyart

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight system x reader #moon knight x reader #marc spector #Steven grant #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #moon knight #marvel #slow burn

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

Double Vision

*This is completely self-indulgent as I officially have to wear glasses now and got my first pair today, but I figured to give you guys some content in between me being stuck on the two stupid drafts that I'm writing, I'd give you this I guess this is a series of shorts?? Either way, enjoy! -B*

Summary: It's the night before the first major test of the RAD school year, and MC has been holed up in their room all day. The brothers are concerned and go to check in on them, but they notice something different - MC is wearing glasses

CW: Asmo being Asmo. His bit is a little suggestive at times

LUCIFER

Although he'll never admit it, Lucifer was really concerned when you had disappeared for the entire day.

He was so used to hearing you laughing amongst his brothers, or pestering him in his office, or even just lounging in the living room that your absence had left him feeling like something was wrong.

Using the excuse of bringing you food to prevent you from starving, he comes to your room and knocks once before entering.

"MC, I know your studying, but do try not to forget that you...need..."

He's cut off mid-snark as he saw you staring back at him behind a pair of framed lenses.

His heart stuttered in his chest and Lucifer Morningstar is left speechless.

Your hair was a mess from the countless times you had run your hands through it. There were bags of exhaustion under your eyes, and there was a hand-shaped mark on your face from where you had been leaning into your palm.

But with those glasses, you looked studious and sharp.

If the eye-wear added this much to your beauty when you were clearly sleep-deprived as you were, he couldn't help but imagine how you might look dressed up in business wear with them.

"Lucifer?"

He snapped his head up, as you caught his focus one more, and noticed, with a frown, how you had removed your glasses.

"Did you come here for something?"

Lucifer walked over to your desk and set down the plate in front of you. "I was ensuring that you actually ate some food between all the reading you're doing." He picked up your glasses and casually inspected them (although mentally he was taking note of the style so that he could buy you more). "I was unaware that you wear glasses, MC."

You rolled your eyes and took a bite from the food in front of you. "That's because I don't need to wear them all the time. Just when I'm doing activities that can strain my eyes."

Lucifer hummed and looked closely at you. You rose an eyebrow at the demon, questioning his odd behaviour. Before you could say anything, he leaned forward and gently slid the frames onto your face.

You felt your cheeks heat up as his eyes remained locked on yours, and a sly smile graced his lips. "You should wear them more often," he whispered softly. "You look lovely in them."

MAMMON

Mammon sighed heavily as he sat upside down on his bed.

He was bored. You had locked yourself up in your room all day for that stupid test and had kicked him out since apparently he was "distracting" and "prevented you from getting any work down."

Well, fuck that! He wanted to spend time with you, damn it!

Mammon marched down the hall and banged on the door once before throwing open the door. "Yo human! Studyin' time is over! It's Mammon ti-...time..."

He trailed off for a moment as he noticed you glaring heatedly at him. However, it wasn't the glare that made him surprised. No. It was the fact that the glare was being filtered through a pair of glasses that he had never seen before on your face.

"When the fuck did you start wearin' glasses?!" He screeched and marched over to you, grabbing your cheeks to pull you closer and get a better look.

You let out a noise of frustration and swatted his hands away. "Mammon quit it! I'm trying to study!"

Surprisingly, he pulled back his hands, but he remained barely an inch away from you. "I didn't ask if you were studyin'! I asked about the glasses!"

You felt yourself blush and pulled your face away. "I've always had glasses. I just don't always wear them. That's all. Wh-Why does it matter?"

Mammon opened his mouth to give a retort, before snapping his jaw back shut. His face grew rapidly warm as he scratched the back of his neck. "I-I was just wonderin'! You've been down here for what? 3 months now? And I ain't ever seen you wear them."

You averted your eyes from the clearly flustered demon and nervously played with your hands. "Yeah, well, I didn't really want any of you to see me in them. I look pretty silly and-"

"What the fuck are you talkin' about? You're adorable!!" Mammon shouted before slapping a hand over his blushing face. The two of you stared at each other with wide eyes full of shock. "I-I mean, glasses are cool, ya know? I wear glasses all the time! And if the Great Mammon knows anythin', it's style! So, of course, you look cute- I mean good- I mean gorgeous- I-I mean GAH!" Mammon turned around and stormed out of the room.

A couple days later, you found a pair of tinted glasses, identical to the ones Mammon wears, in your prescription sitting by your door.

LEVIATHAN

Levi groaned as he looked at the books in front of him.

He wasn't the most studious of his brothers, and this test was draining the life out of him. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with you and watch anime, but because of this stupid test you were both holed up in your respective rooms studying.

Leviathan let out a huff as he laid his head on his desk and glanced over at his manga collection. His gaze paused on the side of a particular school manga with the two main characters studying on the cover.

Levi shot out of his seat in realization, "I can just go study with them!!!"

Levi quickly gathered all his textbooks and went straight to your room. He knocked on the door and nervously waited for you to answer.

As the door swung open, Levi's jaw dropped and his books went scattering across the floor.

Glasses. You were wearing glasses. Glasses that made your eyes look slightly bigger and just overall made you so freaking cute. Oh goodness. He didn't know that you could pull off the cool, studious type so well. You were just so cute!

"Oh shoot, Levi! Your books!" You bent down and quickly began to gather them for him. It was just like a scene from an anime!

"S-So kawaii," the otaku muttered, as he tried to hide his red face behind his arm.

The reddening got worse as you looked up at him and tilted your head. "What was that, Levi?"

He frantically waved his hands took his books back from you, "N-NOTHING! Just, um, I-I was wondering if we could study together? I'm not having much luck on my own, a-a-and you look smart, especially with your new glasses, which look amazing, and I-I thought maybe..."

You smiled softly at the otaku's mumbling and grabbed his hand. "Of course, Levi! I'd love to study with you!"

As you pulled him into your room to sit at your desk, Levi blushed and followed behind you, mentally thinking of the number of glasses-wearing cosplays he could get you to try.

SATAN

Satan took a sip of his tea as you sat down at the library table beside him.

Test season had always been a favourite of his for a number of reasons, but this year, those reasons could all be narrowed down to one big one: he got to spend more time alone with you.

It made him more grateful than ever that his brothers were morons and that he was the only dependable demon in the house that you could study with.

He had constructed an easy-to-follow study guide for the two of you that would guarantee both your success for this test. You'd get good grades and avoid Lucifer's wrath, and he'd get to spend time with you. It was a win-win.

He flipped through a textbook to find the subject of the test. "Alright. We should get started if we're going to stick to the plan. Now, how comfortable are you with..." he stopped short as he looked up and saw you staring at him with a pair of glasses on your face.

He blinked.

He had never seen you were glasses before. He couldn't help but think that now that he had, he never wanted to see you without them again. You look so stunning and elegant with them on. He absolutely loved it.

Of course, he couldn't just tell you that though.

Instead, Satan tilted his head and smirked. "You are aware that just because you're wearing glasses, it won't make you any smarter?"

You gasped in mock offence and lightly hit his arm as Satan laughed. "I'll have you know these are prescribed! I have to wear them when I'm doing any strenuous activities."

Satan flashed a roguish smile and went back to flipping through his book. "Pity. I'd rather like to see you wear them more often. You look wonderful," before you even got the chance to respond or acknowledge the light blush on his cheeks, Satan cleared his throat. "Now, on page 364, you'll see..."

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus hummed to himself as he walked towards your room with a basket full of facemasks and nail polish in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

You had been tucked away in your little room all day studying, and he just knew that you needed a break. That's where he came in of course, offering you all the love and self-care you could ever desire.

Asmodeus joyfully knocked on your door before slipping inside. "MC dear, I've come to free you from your..." he inhaled sharply at the sight before him.

You were laying on your stomach, kicking your legs behind you as you read whatever book you were studying from, dressed in an adorably oversized sweatshirt. That alone would've been enough to make him squeal.

But you were also wearing glasses.

Asmo shrieked as he jumped onto the bed with you and tackled you.

You let out a yelp as the two of you tumbled to the floor. "Wha- Asmo! Get off!"

Asmodeus giggled and sat up beside you. "Sorry, darling! I couldn't help it! You look so cute with your little glasses. AH! It's delightful," his eyes sparkled with intrigue and pleasure. "Sexy even," he purred as he leaned in close.

You chuckled and pushed Asmodeus away as you stood up. "I'm just studying. The glasses are so I can read without getting a headache."

The demon hummed as he walked back over to the door to regather his supplies. "Well, have you ever considered buying some for accessories? I have a pair or two that would look gorgeous on you. It'd be a shame if the only person who ever got to see how scrumptious you look with glasses was your books," he smirked knowingly as he turned around and saw you flustered.

Asmo grinned and held the basket and wine bottle. "Now enough with the studying. It's time for a break. So sit back and relax, and let me take care of you."

You raised an eyebrow at him, and damn that glare was more effective from behind a pair of lenses. "Asmo," you warned, causing the demon to shiver.

Asmo pouted and gestured to the basket. "Self-care of course. Gee, MC, why must you think such filthy things."

BEELZEBUB

Beel made his way towards your room with his arms full of snacks.

He was proud of you for taking your test so seriously and really putting in the work to do your best, but he was also worried. He had barely seen you come out of your room even once today, and that meant that you probably hadn't eaten enough.

Seeing as you were always carrying around snacks for him, he figured it was time that he returned the favour.

He frowned as he got to your door and realized that he had no hands to knock with. He tried rearranging the food in his arms but nearly dropped the entire load. Beel huffed and stared at the door for a couple seconds before leaning forward and butting it with his head several times.

He heard a groan and some shuffling on the other side before the door opened.

His eyes widened as you stood before him, yawning as you rubbed your eyes underneath your glasses - yes, glasses.

You were always small in comparison to Beel, but now with the glasses, there was something about it that made you look even more delicate.

"Cute," Beel said as he looked down at you.

Your face instantly flushed as you blinked up at him. "H-Huh?"

Beel smiled softly and felt his fingers twitch with the urge to ruffle your hair. "Your glasses. They look very cute," he explained honestly.

You squeaked and quickly took them off, too embarrassed by Beel's forward compliment. "Th-Thanks Beel. They're um, they're just for studying."

The urge to ruffle your hair, or pat your shoulder, or even simply touch you grew stronger, but Beel's hands were still full. So, much like with the door, Beelzebub thought of an alternative.

He leaned down and gently kissed the top of your head. His warm gaze met yours as he gently whispered, "You always look pretty, but with them on, you look even prettier," and then, as though he hadn't just stolen your heart, he grinned and held out the food. "I brought snacks."

BELPHEGOR

Belphie had been wandering around the house late at night in yet another round of restlessness.

He had just walked past your door when he noticed your bedroom light was still on. Belphegor tsked and began making his way over. It was bad enough that he wasn't getting any sleep. He didn't need you picking up on his awful sleep habits just because of some boring test.

Without bothering to knock, Belphie opened your bedroom door. He opened his mouth to tease you but found his words catching in his throat.

You weren't awake after all.

You were passed out on your desk, face smooshed up against an open book with a pair of glasses sitting uncomfortably askew on your nose.

Belphie felt his cold heart melt at the sight.

He let out a deep chuckle and walked over to you. He carefully removed the glasses from your face and snorted at the red lines that had been left in their wake. He pressed gentle kisses to the marks before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you over to your bed.

"Silly MC," he whispered as he draped your blankets over you. "Everyone knows that you're not supposed to sleep with glasses on," he smiled tenderly at your sleeping form as he brushed a few hairs from your forehead. "No matter how cute they may make you."

*And that's that! I hope you enjoyed this cute little thing I just threw together! Sorry I haven't been able to write as much lately. School and work have just been insane and I honestly don't think the workload is gonna get any lighter. Thank you for your patience and your support!*

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @victoirey @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino @rulaien @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Note

Can you write overprotective long hair harry imagine?? Like he always hovers the reader when she is doing something or even nothing. Or when she needs to run errands he always go with even though its not required. And when reader fell sick he is full on mommy daddy mode dom!h vibes

A/N: OOPS I GOT EXCITED AND WENT OVERBOARD WITH IT :D

Harry’s awfully sweet. He’s a literal sweetheart with those marble sepia eyes, hazelnut curls and that big golden kind heart of his's.

But, to people he’s intimidating. From the black loiter of tattoos, a silver of piercing to the corner of his plush bottom lip and those long curls of his's that frays his broad strong shoulders turns everyone too giddy to talk to him and he's okay with that – bunch of loosers anyways whom he doesn’t want to waste his time on chit-chatting.

Then Y/N came into his life and his world flipped upside down, in a beautiful way (where he felt like floating into the crashing waves of crystal sea). It felt like she made him see the world through pink heart-shaped glasses and everyone’s just bursting into rainbows, puffaw! Boom! Their heads blasting with colourful confetti and ribbons.

Even though his slight grouchiness towards people lessened he still doesn’t gives two fucks before punching the shit out of someone if they in any way hurts, be rude and try to take physical and emotional advantage of, Y/N.

His bunny.

He’s too protective of her. And why wouldn’t he? She’s his everything. His little miracle and his hype-person, his lovie.

He’s the softest peach for her. The guy who walks and everyone scrambles away to give him a way, is whipped for his girlfriend.

He’s always having his strong arm looped around her waist when they’re out and walking, going to hold her hands instead if she’s too wiggly, keeping her close to his chest while he holds their coffees and sweets.

Whenever they’re doing grocery he’s always wheeling the cart around how much Y/N insists and pouts, he likes it that way. Hearing her blabber and skim her eyes down the ingredients labelled on the products then tossing it anyway with a shrug – makes him want to smooch her wet in kisses.

If they’re partying out with friends. Which they rarely do, (Y/N sometimes makes fun of them saying they’re getting too domestic day by day) he’s always having her put in his lap, his screwed up expression lazing when the alcohol starts to kick in and he’s just a blubbering mess of nonsense, and a very horn dog with his cock bloating up in his tight skinny jeans.

Not that he doesn’t let her have a breather and enjoy herself. He indeed does, they’ve a healthy relationship where they keep trust and faith in eachother.

But, sometimes he gets super jealous when people steal his little girlfriend away from him and once home he’s cuddling and oodling her, kissing her face all over with loud smacks and not letting her be away from him another second even it’s too bring him water or to get rid of his smelly socks.

Other times. When he’s particularly very jealous. The serious ones where Y/N unintentionally spends a tad more time at some of her classmates to wind up their upcoming project, he’s driving himself to pick her up and knocking at the door harshly and then dragging her out of there not letting her carry her stuff and huffing and puffing while throwing her things in the backseat.

Because Jeremy’s a sore rascal who’s shit at hiding his crush for Y/N and he should know better to whom she belongs. His innocent baby is too naive towards the possible hints and evil intentions of people.

“Oi. What got into you today?” She brushes the loose curl that escaped from his bun and let her fingers slide down his tight set angry jaw staring him a bit concerned upon seeing him this furious and ruffled up from nowhere.

“You’re mine,” Is all he'd respond. Smashing his lips against hers in a an ardent kiss and glide his palm down her ass to squeeze it and bring her closer grinning when she squeals into his mouth giving him a chance to slip his tongue in and kiss her deeper and sloppier.

“You’re a silly geese.” She giggles whisper into the mess of pecks and lock her elbows around his neck to give him an eskimo kiss.

“Watch y’mouth.” He glares her intensely loving the way Y/N gulps timidly bobbing her head.

“You’ll get a spanking today,” He always likes to warn her before hand. He wants her comfortable with him in every case and it’s downgrade monstrous to treat the person you love like a mean bitch out of blue -- so whenever she deserves a punishment he already announces her of it, warming her to the idea and giving her time to back away if she doesn’t want it.

“What did I’do now!” She whines and he nibbles onto his knuckle glancing her way in disbelief other hand on steering wheel, “What did y'do?” He asks her sternly. Spreading his palm over her thigh and squeezing it grimly.

“Did y'even care to look at the time, Y/N?” Oh boy. She’s in real trouble. Her name on his tongue never fails to turn her insides gooey and pause her heartbeat horribly. A red light for her to being bratty before she falls into the deep black dig of trouble.

Reaching home. He’s throwing her on the bed and demanding her to lay still on her tummy while he puts a pillow under her and spanks her bum sore with his rings imprinting her skin pink, though he never forgets to take care of her afterwards – putting a cool cream to soothe the burn and letting her sleep on his chest so she wouldn’t come in contact with the sheets as he kneads her asscheeks with gentle hands.

He could never have his hands to himself when she’s cooking and baking for them. Always, poking and prodding around having her head tucked under his chin, her embraced in his arms from back swaying them along to Hozier while she reads the recipe she wrote on one of the tiles.

“Stop!” She giggles, squirming in his arms when he blows raspberries against the dip of her neck and then creates growly noises biting and lapping into her skin, “You’re gonna burn our lunch!” She pressed her hips against his crotch to push him away and that warmed him more, delving his fingers more into her hips with a throaty groan.

“We could have a takeout.” His breath shuddery against her ear as he tries to pry the spatula away from her and kiss her grumpy whines down when the pots actually got burned, “I’ll wash and scratch them.” He’d assure picking her up and wrapping her legs around his hips and slipping his fingers in her hair to tug them and bring her mouth down against his’s to taste her.

“Wants to fuck you so bad, baby. My cock’s been weepy fo’ hours without your touch.” He groans, taking her hand and sneaking it inside his joggers to make her feel how stiff and erect he’s for her.

“I just gave you a blowie in the morning!”

“Blowie isn’t equivalent to fucking!”

“What y'readin,?” He scoots closer to her end of sofa with a smirk and towers over her trying to take a peek of whatever she’s reading with such intensity and then rake his warm palms up her calves to lay them over his thighs while he snuggles her wrapping a chonky blanket around them.

“Shhh baby girl, just want you to be more comfy.” He mumbles into her hair scratching his short nails against her scalp in soothing motions and watch her melt against his touch, eyes fluttering as she lurks dangerously to the verge of sleep.

“You always do that. Whenever the hot part’s about to come, you make me all sleepy.” She mutters laying her head against his clavicles gazing him up with hazy eyes, sighing in feign disappointment when he grins down at her in quite victory and gives her a sloppy kiss.

“What do y'need erotica fo’ baby? When your man’s the living walking momentum of sex.” He pouts, grazing his teeth down her neck and leaving a fresh hickey at her throat.

“That’s infact not, true. You’re such a cutie!” She beams up at him never failing to give him dancing butterflies in his stomach and he doesn’t admits it but he likes getting treated soft and gentle by his girlfriend.

“Such a shame. My own little love doesn’t find me sexy.” He grumps dramatically making her scramble hesitantly and turn to him in their tight embrace, cradling his face in her cold palms, “No. No. I find you sexy. I just don’t like sexualising you.” If Harry didn’t turn into a puddle before he indeed did now as he melted into her touch and kissed the inside of her hands lovingly.

“You’re sucha sap!” He whispers at her in fake offence and plant his lips against hers, patting her bum to make her hug him more tightly.

On cleaning and laundry day’s. He’s always helping her. As they scrub and mop the floors together, might fuck on them bubbly floors too if Harry’s lusty gaze remains on her spilling tits for too long.

“Thinks your floral bra needs a wash too, moppet.” His gradual attempts to lure her with his fingers stroking her thighs seductively always turns into a win when she nods shyly into his neck and let him have an easy access to her panties.

They’re always having a warm, full of essence bath together cleaning and washing the dirt off eachother after that.

Then sharing a cuppa tea while folding their clothes together on the bed and he’s always trying to tackle her into mattress when she laughs at his terribly folded clothes compared to her neatly binded ones.

“Your sucha menace,” He jests with his nose skewered up while he smacks her ass.

“Talk for yourself, Styles.” She retorts, tangling her knee around his waist and pulling him down into him. Puffing out relaxed breaths upon feeling safe and protected under his weight and Harry always smiles into the crook of her neck when she tries to cuddle him as if she wants to be his skin.

He’s the most daddiest when she’s drunk, sick or stressed.

Never letting her go out of his sight when she’s dancing on the floor with her friends. If some man even tries to approach her and breaths in her direction he’s sprinting towards her and pawing at her hips to situate her closer to him whilst blowing those potential guys off with a monotone expression.

“Harry! Do a lil dancey dance with me!” She giggles, making him sway with her and looking up at him with glassy floaty eyes.

“Bunny. ‘s late, time to go home.” He tells her, pinching her chin to plant his lips against hers and she squirms giving him a timid smile, “Okie. But I’ve to pee.”

“Me too!” Her friends chimes from behind her and Harry rolls his eyes playfully, gesturing all of them to follow him.

“C’mon you spies, not lettin’ ya’ll go alone.”

He waits for them outside the washroom while they do their business and he has his arms always splayed open for when his lovie comes back and he’s welcoming her in his embrace warmly with a sweet smile.

Dying with fond injecting in his every vein when she slurs and blabbers, “Home.”

Walking her up the stairs of their flat’s building is the most hefty struggle while she’s a sleepy, clumsy and giggly muck of doe gleaming eyes and swollen pretty lips drooling over Harry testing his patience while he makes her take one step at a time.

“Darling, bunny, just some mo' steps lovin’.” He coos at her, putting a firm hand under her bum and heaving her up into him so she doesn’t falls.

“Mhmmm you’re so pretty, daddy.” Harry’s head snaps in surprise as he stares down at her in adoring amusement and push her head under his chin while she slings her arms around his waist lazily.

Sometimes, she gets him so flustered he doesn’t know how to respond.

She whines and cries in dishevelment when Harry makes her sit on the cold marble counter and wipes her makeup off.

“I just wan’ to sleep!” She toes at his torso trying to push him away but he grabs it and tuts, glowering at her strictly, “You’re g'na complain in the mornin’. Sleepin’ with makeup makes ye' breakout remember?” When she still huffs and slumps giving him a hard time to clean her he’s pinching her chin and giving her a gentle jerk.

“Bunny. Stop with ye' battiness.” He grunts not letting his facade slip when she mewls stroking her cheek up and down his lightly stubble covered cheek softly.

“Else what? Y'never punish a sleepy bunny.” She smirks at him foppishly and lazily knowing damn well that one of thing Harry doesn’t do’s tease or punish her when she’s tuckered out and on the edge of sleeping on him.

“You don’t test me bratty woman.” She squeals when he takes hold of her panties to pull them down her legs, slapping her mound once discarding it in the hamper and he sighs when she’s already snoring lightly, slobbering his throat with her mouth parted comically.

After pattering her face with loving kisses he’s tucking her under the layers of blankets and letting her use him as her stuffie.

“Aw poor baby.” He mumbles, kissing her forehead when he finds her burning up against him and he’s quickly rummaging for thermometer from the night stand and the tissues he had stashed for emergencies.

“I don’t feel good,” His heart breaks when Y/N croaks out weakly and tries to crawl up his chest to stuff her face in his musky neck but her frail limbs gives out making her cry out.

“It’s okay bunny, ‘s okay. How but I make you some soup. Then y'take your medicines like a good girl of mine, then if your condition gets worse we’ll go to doctor, yeah baby?” He talks to her gently and sweetly, stroking her hair and peppering kisses to her temples.

“Just last bite, moppet.” Harry hovers the spoon infront of her and sighs when she shakes her head pushing his wrist away, “I’ll puke.” She sniffs blowing her nose harshly in the tissue .

“The bin’s right here, bunny.” He smoothens his hand down her spine putting the tray aside carefully to snuggle and comfort her as she cries softly against his chest.

“’M so sorry baby, you’ll be alright in the morning.” He couldn’t see her in such condition. It pulls and tugs at his heart so painfully he feels himself hurting.

“Oi. Why you crying, hmm?” He cups her cheek and makes her look at him as she skims her eyes away from him jn embarrassment.

“I —- You’re so caring and loving, treats me so good and it makes me c.. cr–-,” She hiccups finding it hard to breath and Harry rubs her back, whispering affinities in her ear making her finally sob, “Cry....” He chuckles softly pelting kisses upon kisses on her puffy eyelids, soaky dried up cheeks, her frowned up forehead, her wobbly chin and her nipping love bites down her chest then blowing raspberries at his own slick covering her skin making her giggle through her hiccups.

“I love you.” She whispers droopily, head lulling to his chest when the effect of medicine finally starts to kick in.

“I love you too, I want my healthy and happy bunny back.” He mumbles, inhaling a huge puff of her scent and squishes her lovingly.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry smut #cute harry #harry styles #fluff #harry angst #hsh #dom harry

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komotionlessqueenmm · 2 years

Text

Imagine # 962

Pictures NOT mine.

Year posted - 2022

📝Note(s) - Text in italics is inner monolog.

Initially when (Y/n) took notice of the extra set of footsteps, she was momentarily terrified, having already dealt with several encounters with monstrous creatures. However she froze in her tracks, having started running silently in the other direction, when she heard their voices. The creatures didn't speak, so that could only mean one thing, people! Still apprehensive she remained standing against the wall, waiting for them to round the corner, rather than going to them herself. Before long four young men waltzed into the room, their style practically screaming 80s trouble makers, though (Y/n) did note how well they pulled it off. "I told you I heard something!" The shortest of the group exclaimed excitedly, trying to rush to (Y/n) with a grin on his face. Though the man with a platinum blond mullet pulled him back by his jacket, having noticed how ready (Y/n) was to sprint off into the other direction. "Calm down Marko, she's spooked." The man stated as he pulled the shorter one, now known as Marko back. "Names David." He added before pointing to the tall blond beside Marko. "That's Paul." He then pointed to the other man at his side. "And that's Dwayne." They all waved as they were introduced, easing (Y/n)'s stressed mind. "My names (Y/n)." She introduced herself after a moment of silence. "How long have you been here?" David asked as he slowly approached (Y/n), the others following closely behind him. "I'm not sure... What about you guys?" (Y/n) subconsciously pressed her back into the wall, a tad bit nervous still. "A lot longer than you, by the looks of it." Paul cut in, his words making (Y/n) frown in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, making the guys chuckle. "It was 1987 when we showed up here." Dwayne explained, making (Y/n)'s frown deepen. "It was 2022 when I came here." (Y/n) admitted, dread filling her heart. "I think I've only been here a few days, maybe weeks... I've not felt hunger, thirst, or even drowsiness... It's like, like..." (Y/n) struggled to find the right words. "Like a never ending day." Marko offered, smiling softly when (Y/n) agreed. "Yeah exactly." She nodded her head, her heart jumping into her throat at the sound of fast approaching foot steps. She moved to run, but David was quick to stop her, grasping her arm in a vice grip. She went to tell him to let her go, but a massive inky black creature rushed into the room, a scream instead bubbling from her throat. Dwayne Paul and Markos faces morphed shape, their eyes yellow and red. They were quick to attack the creature with inhuman strength and speed, while David remained at (Y/n)'s side. More or less forcing her to witness the carnage, as his left hand held her jaw in place, while his right hand held her arm.

Once the creature was dead, the three man re-approached (Y/n) and David, their faces morphing back to normal. "You're all monsters yourselves!" (Y/n) hissed as she tore her jaw away from David's grasp, unsuccessfully trying to pull her arm away. "We were monsters long before we got here." David hissed back as he roughly pulled her arm, effectively making her to stop struggling against him. "Are you going to kill me?" (Y/n) asked in a monotone voice, her initial fear turning to a dull numbness. "No we aren't going to kill you." David released her arm, not worried about her running off, as they all circled her. "Then what?" She frowned in distain, dreading what the answer might be. "Stick with us." Marko offered, making (Y/n)'s frown turn confused. "We'll protect you." Dwayne added with a soft smile. "And what do you want in return?" She asked with suspicion. "You know exactly what we want in return." Paul chuckled, his words rather suggestive. "Are you fucking serious!?" (Y/n) hissed, annoyed with the laughter emitting from each of them. "Oh come on, it's not that bad of a deal." David mused. "We'll keep you safe and alive, and all you gotta do is meet our needs." He added as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, (Y/n) scoffed in return, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't worry sweetheart, you'll definitely enjoy yourself." Dwayne cut in, his words honestly making (Y/n)'s stomach do flips. "Do I have much of a choice?" (Y/n) asked, despite her growing interest in the offer. "Of course you have a choice." Paul nodded his head as he leaned against the wall beside her. 'Well they are rather handsome, and it has been some time since I've had sex, let alone with anyone so attractive.' (Y/n) thought to herself, unaware of the boys invading her thoughts. 'Plus they definitely can keep me safe, they've already proven that.' She bit her bottom lip softly, sparing them each a quick glance. "Okay... I'll stick with you guys." (Y/n) agreed, honestly content with their offer, if not a bit excited at the thought of being with each of them. "Good because you're the first person we've come across, and it would be a shame to let you slip through our fingers." David mused before burying his nose into her hair, inhaling her fragrance shamelessly. "Especially a babe like you." Marko added as he grasped her right hand, kissing the back of her hand a few times before he flipped her hand over, kissing her wrist. Both Dwayne and Paul wedging themselves against her, each of the men kissing and nipping at every inch of her exposed skin, leaving fire in their wake. And making (Y/n)'s head fuzzy with desire and pleasure, her breathing turning heavy as they began removing her clothes with swift hands. Everything was moving so fast, but not one of them seemed to mind in the slightest.

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

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The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 34: Suburban Home

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, blood and gore, animal death, slightly steamy ❧ Word Count: 6.8k

❧ In This Chapter: You make yourself at home in Alexandria, and meet a new friend. Aaron attempts to get to know Daryl, but ends up in a bit of a pickle. Deanna unveils your new house to you, and dinner with Aaron proves to be quite amusing.

❧ A/N: I hope you guys don't mind these longer chapters... sometimes I just get going and I can't stop, especially with all the Reader/Daryl cuteness! We also get to see some bonding between Daryl and Aaron, which is super fun. I love seeing the parallels between Reader and Aaron, and how they're clearly so much alike. Oh, and don't get me started on the pasta eating scene... Jesus Christ, I never wanted spaghetti more in my life.

When the morning came, Daryl woke you to let you know that he, Rick, and Carol were going to go out to the woods for a bit, under the guise of taking Carol out for shooting practice.

They were having meetings, the three of them. Discussing what to do in case things went south, however that might happen.

Though you didn’t think it was totally necessary, you were glad for their preparedness.

You didn’t have much to do, so you took your time showering and getting dressed in the clothes the Alexandrians had left for you all.

“Let’s see…” you said to yourself as you scanned the closet, holding the bath towel that wrapped around your body.

It was a lot of suburban mom style clothes, and you supposed you shouldn’t care because you were lucky to have access to any clean clothes at all. Still, you sighed a bit in disappointment. You couldn’t even count how many times you dreamt about having a closet full of your style of clothes. When you woke up from those dreams, you felt like crying because it wasn’t real.

To you, fashion and clothing were a reflection of one’s self. When you had to wear whatever you could get your hands on, which was what you had been doing lately, you didn’t feel like you were completely embodying who you were. It was a silly concept, but that’s how you felt.

As you continued to rifle through your options, you froze when you saw a lone dress hanging at the other end of the closet. It was a soft baby pink with a knee-length a-line skirt and short puff sleeves. It was cinched at the waist with a matching pink band, and it had clover-shaped mother of pearl buttons running all the way down the front. There was a small pink bow hanging from the wide circular neckline.

You audibly gasped as you took it off the hanger and held it in front of you. It was a relatively plain dress compared to some of the others you used to wear, but it was the prettiest one you had seen in ages. Plus, it was one of your favorite colors. You always looked best in soft hues of pinks and purples, at least in your opinion.

What you liked about it most of all was how it seemed very you.

You were lucky enough to snag some short white heels that fit you pretty comfortably, though you would have to get used to the feeling again. After rifling through the jewelry box on the dresser, you picked out a pair of mother of pearl earrings, which you thought matched your buttons nicely.

You were to keep on your amethyst necklace, as well. You kept your promise to Daryl: you’d never taken it off.

You fixed your hair, combing through it and fluffing it up the way you liked. It was nice to have it down without worrying it would get pulled on by a walker.

When you felt sufficiently put-together to mingle with the Alexandrians, you began heading out the door to get to know the community a bit more. Opening the front door, you were greeted by a woman who seemed to be startled by your sudden appearance.

“Oh, hello,” she said, her voice bubbly and almost sing-songy. You looked down in her hands to see she was holding a stack of books. “Um, is (Y/N) around?”

“I’m (Y/N),” you said with a smile.

She beamed at you. “Oh, perfect! I’m Beverly, one of the teachers.” She nudged her head towards the house which held the classroom. “Deanna asked me to bring you some copies of our textbooks.”

You opened the door wider to allow her to step inside. “Come on in.”

“Thanks,” she said, walking in with a huff. “These books are heavy!”

She set them down on the kitchen counter with a thud. “Phew,” she said, wiping her brow.

You stood by the bar across from her and examined the books. There were four textbooks—one for science, math, literature, and history, each made for younger students.

“These are what we’ve been using. Each of our students has one of each, too. These are the teacher’s copies.”

You held up the math book and began to flip through its pages. Shit, I suck at math.

“Thank you,” you said. “When do I start?”

“Well, whenever you want. I have a schedule already drawn up for you. It’s only five hours three days a week, and your group is small, only seven kids.”

Thank god. I can handle seven.

“Your first day would actually be tomorrow if that works for you,” she continued.

You nodded. “That works just fine.”

After exchanging brief small talk with Beverly, a woman who was exhaustingly peppy, but seemed quite nice, you went for a walk around the town.

It was peaceful, yet lively and full of vibrant colors and sounds. You passed by a small lake where an old man was sitting and reading and a young couple were having a picnic. They waved to you as you walked by, and you thought for sure you were in Heaven or some kind of dreamworld.

In a daze, you didn’t see Maggie and Deanna walking up to you.

“(Y/N),” Maggie grabbed your arm and brought you back to reality.

“Maggie, hi,” you said. “Deanna.” You nodded your head to her.

“We have some good news,” Maggie announced.

Your eyes widened. “I’d love to hear it.”

“We’ve got yours and Daryl’s house ready,” Deanna said. “It’s fully stocked and ready to move in whenever you want.”

You looked at her in shock, still processing the phrase “yours and Daryl’s house.”

“It’s right next to ours,” Maggie said, smiling widely. “Come on.” She grabbed your hand and led you to a small two-story home with pale blue siding and white window shutters. It had a covered porch with a swinging bench and a pink rose bush in front. It was much smaller than Rick’s house, but it was all you needed.

“Here it is,” said Deanna. “All yours.”

You smiled in disbelief. “Seriously?”

She laughed. “Seriously.”

Maggie wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “It’s like you always wanted.”

You looked at her with tears streaming down your face. Wiping them away quickly, you tried to compose yourself. “It’s beautiful,” you sobbed.

You could not compose yourself.

“Let’s go inside,” Maggie said.

Deanna left the two of you to roam your new house. Opening the door, you were greeted by the base of the staircase. Alongside it was an archway which led to the kitchen and dining room, bright and airy. The living room was smaller than Deanna’s but cozier in your opinion. It had a fireplace and built-in bookshelves all around it, just waiting to be filled.

“Oh my god,” you said, then turned to look at Maggie again. “Are you sure this is real?”

She smiled at your disbelief. “Real as it can be.”

You circled the living room, admiring the sparse furniture. There was only an olive green couch and a matching set of chairs, as well as a rich mahogany coffee table, but you liked it that way. It gave you the chance to make it a real home, you and Daryl.

Getting excited now, you began to envision every little detail and what you would put where, once you found it, that is.

“It needs a rug,” you said, then turned to look at the bookcase again. “And lots of books. And art on the walls…”

Maggie laughed. “You’ve been thinkin’ about this haven’t you?”

You smiled. “Back when we were on the road, before the prison, I used to see things in the windows of the old shops. Little trinkets, stupid things you wouldn’t ever need. I thought about how nice it would be to have something that was useless, just for decoration. That’s what I’m gonna do with this place.”

You wandered around the room some more in silence. “You think Daryl will like it?” Maggie asked.

You sighed. “I hope so. These days I think he’d rather live out in the woods than in a house with me.”

Maggie stepped towards you and rested her hand on your shoulder. “Hey, that ain’t true. He loves you. He wants you to be happy, and this is what’s gonna make you happy. He’ll deal with it, and he’ll be happy about it.”

Maggie left a little while later to let you explore on your own. She had a position helping out Deanna with policy making, so her job was pretty important and required a lot of time spent with Alexandria’s leadership.

You headed upstairs with a spring in your step, excited to see your own bedroom.

There were three of them, more than you could even hope for. The biggest, of course, was the master, which you would share with Daryl (if he ever agreed to sleep in a bed, that is). It had a large queen-sized bed and an en-suite bathroom—with the most glorious claw foot tub you had ever seen.

I haven’t taken a bubble bath in centuries.

The other two bedrooms were quite small, but very promising. Neither of them had any furniture, so you expected you would just fill them up yourself, though you had no idea what to put in them.

You always wanted your own study, so maybe Daryl would let you do that with one of the rooms. The other, however, you weren’t sure. You supposed you’d let Daryl do with that room what he wanted. He could have the basement and the garage too. That seemed like his kind of thing.

Now, you just waited for Daryl to come back. You weren’t sure how he would react to the house, but you were prepared for the worst. Daryl was a simple man in some ways, but in many ways he was the most complicated person you had ever met. He was hard to read, and his moods were known to shift easily. You were the best at taming him, but even you had to admit when you couldn’t quite get a hold of him.

The fact that he was outside the walls now was a testament to that.

When Carol, Rick, and Daryl split off, Daryl decided to spend a little time alone in the woods to hunt. He slowed in his tracks when he felt a presence following him.

“Come out, now!” he said, his crossbow held high and ready to fire.

Emerging from the trees was Aaron, his hands held in the air in surrender. Daryl lowered his bow and instead shot him with a vitriolic glare.

“You can tell the difference between walkers and humans by sound?” Aaron asked. He didn’t answer, just narrowed his eyes. “Can you tell the difference between a good guy and a bad guy? Rick doesn’t seem to be an expert at that.”

“Ain’t much of a difference no more,” Daryl replied.

“That how you feel about your people?”

Daryl inched closer to him, angry with his line of questioning. “Why are you followin’ me?”

Aaron looked around in confusion. “Didn’t know I was. I came out to hunt rabbits… but, don’t tell (Y/N) that. She loves rabbits. You probably already know that, though,” he laughed awkwardly. When Daryl didn’t ease up, he cleared his throat and became serious again. “I know why you’re out here. Mind if I join?”

Daryl considered it for a moment. He couldn’t in good consciousness leave your brother out in the woods alone. Turning to leave, he said over his shoulder, “Keep up.” Aaron began following him. “And keep quiet.”

That was one difference between you and Aaron—you could keep quiet, he couldn’t.

“How long you been a hunter?”

Daryl ignored him as he scanned the leaf-covered ground for tracks. “Okay,” Aaron said under his breath. He’d be lying if he wasn’t trying to use this opportunity to get to know Daryl. The closest thing to a conversation Aaron had with Daryl so far hadn't gone how Aaron had hoped, as it ended in Daryl uttering the phrase, "Nobody gives a shit."

“What did you do before all this?” he prodded.

Daryl stopped in his tracks, remembering when you asked him that same question. He huffed. “Don’t matter.”

Aaron scoffed. “Just making conversation.”

“Told ya to be quiet.”

He shrugged. “Don’t like the quiet. It’s too… quiet. That’s why I usually don’t go out alone, that and it’s dangerous.

Daryl turned to look at him. “Why’d you come out alone this time?”

“Eric, my partner, his ankle’s still healing. I usually go out with him.”

Daryl nodded, then turned to begin walking again, the dried leaves crinkling under his heavy feet with each step.

“Deanna’s getting you and (Y/N) your own house, you know.”

Daryl grunted in acknowledgment.

“I’ve seen it, it’s a good one. Made sure of it. I think you’ll really like it there. (Y/N) will.”

He kept walking, quickening his pace as if to lose Aaron. “I know it’s hard, getting used to Alexandria. You all have been out here so long, it’s hard to remember what it was like living in a community. But I want you to know, it’s worth it.”

Daryl stopped in his tracks when he saw a black horse in a grassy clearing just ahead.

Aaron caught up with him and stood next to him in awe of the creature as it grazed. The two men walked forward a bit. “I’ve been trying to catch him for months,” said Aaron quietly. “Bring him inside. His name’s Buttons.”

Daryl gave him a look, to which Aaron shrugged. “One of the kids saw him run by the gate a while back, thought he looked like a Buttons.” He huffed. “Haven’t seen him for a while. I was afraid it was too late.”

Aaron dropped his pack and began rummaging for a rope. “Every time Eric or I come close he gets spooked.”

Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder and took the rope from Aaron’s hands. He looked at him in surprise. “Have you done this before?”

“My group did,” Daryl said. “But they weren’t out there that long. The longer they’re out there, the more they become what they really are.”

Daryl looped up the rope and dangled it over his shoulder before beginning to approach the horse slowly. Aaron followed not too far behind.

“I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Daryl spoke to the horse. “All right?” He took slow and steady steps and held out the looped and knotted end of the rope. “Come on, boy.” The ebony horse leaned its head down to eat again. “Yeah, just keep on eatin’,” Daryl said. “Yeah, you used to be somebody’s, huh? Now you’re just yours.” When he got close enough to catch the horse, it raised its head and neighed at the walkers approaching. “Shit!” yelled Daryl.

The horse neighed furiously and bucked up into the air before sprinting away.

“Come on, they’re comin’!” Daryl yelled to Aaron.

Aaron raised his silenced rifle and began shooting a few of the walkers in the head. Daryl used the end of his crossbow to bludgeon the walkers in front of him. To conserve ammo, Aaron unsheathed his machete and slashed another one across the face. Daryl used his knife to put down the last couple.

“Come on,” he said to Aaron.

When the chaos died down, the two men walked in silence for a while, until it became too much for Aaron again. “You ride horses?”

Daryl sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to be able to silence him. “I ride bikes.”

Aaron laughed. “I take it you don’t mean ten-speeds.”

Daryl didn’t laugh, or say anything at all.

“It’s not your fault, you know. That you feel like an outsider,” he continued. “Eric and I, we’re still looked at as outsiders in a lot of ways. We’ve heard our fair share of well-meaning but hilariously offensive things from some otherwise really nice men and women.” He shrugged. “People are people. The more afraid they get, the more stupid they get. Fear shrinks the brain.”

“They’re scared of you and me for different reasons,” Aaron began again. “They’re less scared of me because they know me. It’s less and less everyday. So, let ‘em get to know you. You should go to Deanna’s party tonight, you and (Y/N).”

Daryl sighed, remembering what you had told him about trying to get the Alexandrians to like him. “I got nothin’ to prove. We met a lot of bad people out here, doin’ a lot of bad shit. An’ they weren’t afraid of nothin’.”

“Yeah, they were.”

The snarls of walkers got closer and closer as Daryl and Aaron continued on. They stumbled upon another clearing where the horse was running around trying to dodge the walkers.

“Gotta move quick,” said Daryl. “He’s pinned in with ‘em.”

Daryl began running forward. “I got the far ones,” he said.

He shot a few with his bow, and Aaron began running, too, holding his rifle up high to fire. Before he could, he was brought down to the ground by a walker.

It held on tightly to his calf. Aaron sat up and reached for his machete, chopping the thing’s hand clean off his leg. The next thing he saw was Daryl’s boot caving in the walker’s head.

Aaron got up to his feet quickly. “Thanks,” he said.

When Aaron caught a glimpse of a walker stumbling towards Daryl, his back facing it as he leaned over to pick up his crossbow, Aaron cocked his gun and shot it directly in the head.

“Thanks,” Daryl huffed.

The two men started towards the horse, but the other walkers got to it first. They took it down to the ground, and they feasted on it like a pack of rabid dogs, flinging the poor creature’s organs around as they dangled from their mouths.

The horse was still alive, whinnying out in fear and pain.

“I got the one on the right,” Daryl said, approaching the bloodbath with Aaron following closely behind.

The two of them wiped them all out, but the horse was still alive.

“Go ahead,” said Daryl, gesturing to Aaron to put the horse down.

He did so, trying to hold back tears all the while. “He always ran,” he said afterwards.

Daryl was silent for a moment, looking down at the mutilated corpse of the once majestic creature. “You were trying to help him.”

When the two men made it back to Alexandria that evening, Aaron walked Daryl to your new house. He stood outside it for a while, scanning it up and down and trying to find something off about it. He couldn’t—it was perfect. Through the kitchen window, he saw you opening cupboards and organizing everything you could get your hands on. He immediately noticed your pink dress, and it brought a smile to his face.

He hated to admit it, since he teased you so much about it in the beginning, but he loved when you wore dresses. He hadn’t seen you in one since the prison, but he always thought of you when he saw one on a mannequin or a walker.

Wiping his feet on the welcome mat, he opened the door cautiously so as not to frighten you. He ended up opening it way too quietly, so when he rested his hands on your hips like he usually did, you jumped and yelped in shock.

“Daryl!” you sighed, holding your hand over your heart. “You scared the shit out of me,” you laughed.

“Sorry,” he said.

You waved your hand at him. “Don’t worry about it.” You took his crossbow from his shoulder and set it down under the accent table with your axe by the door. “You can put this here,” you said. “That way it won’t take up any room.”

He looked around at the spotless home. It was the cleanest place he’d seen in a while. No walker blood, no rats, no nothing.

“You like it?” you asked as you approached him again. “Maggie and Glenn have the one next door. It’s pretty much the same inside, but I think ours is a little nicer.”

He walked into the living room, and you followed him, eagerly waiting for his verdict. “It’s nice,” he said, turning to face you.

You smiled and lunged towards him, engulfing him in your arms and kissing him sweetly. He held you in surprise, and tightened his arms around you when you kissed him. You whimpered a little at his touch. It had been so long since you could really kiss him. You missed his lips so much.

Pulling back, you cupped his face in your hands. “I love you so much,” you said, unable to contain your smile. “This is our home, Daryl. Can you believe it?”

He looked around again. “Nah, still don’t seem real.”

“Well, it is. It’s ours and it’s perfect.” You squished his face and brought him for another kiss.

He rested his hands on your hips and pulled you closer into his body. The kiss started off innocently enough, but he devoured your lips with such passion and want that you opened your mouth for him and let his tongue explore to his heart’s content. He twisted his tongue around yours, then pulled back a little to lick your lips.

You moaned deeply into his mouth, trying desperately not to lose all composure as he slipped his hands under the skirt of your dress and began massaging your ass with his strong hands.

He pulled away completely for a moment. “Where’s the bed?”

You laughed into his mouth as he kissed you again. “Upstairs.”

He grunted before hoisting you up into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. “Daryl!” you squealed.

He bolted up the stairs with you in tow. “Which one?” he asked on the landing.

You pointed to the master bedroom, and Daryl kicked the door wide open before lunging towards the bed and plunging you both down onto its downy mattress. With you below him, he resumed kissing you, his tongue attempting to suck up every last bit of your taste as he pawed at your breasts.

He grunted at the feeling of the fabric under his hands, preferring much more to feel the warmth of your bare breasts and the hardness of your aroused nipples. “Take this off,” he said.

You opened your eyes. “I can’t,” you said. “Deanna’s party is starting soon.”

Daryl propped himself up with his arms and looked down at you. “You ain’t goin’ to that thing, are ya?”

You sat up. “Yes, and you are too.”

Daryl scoffed. “Ain’t no way.”

You sighed, then began rubbing his chest up and down with your hands, all the while breaking out your big doe eyes. “Please, honey,” you said sweetly. “We don’t have to stay long, just long enough so people see us.”

“They don’t like me. You see how they look at me?”

You tilted your head. “It’s just because they don’t know you, and you’re… standoffish. If you show interest in the community, they’ll start coming around to you I bet. You need to make an effort, though.”

Daryl grunted and stood up from the bed. “Ain’t goin’. You can go but I got things to do.”

“Like what?” you asked pointedly.

Daryl shrugged, then looked around the sparse bedroom. “Ya know… organize shit.”

You laughed and propped yourself up and off the bed to approach him. “There’s nothing to organize, Daryl. Come with me, please. I don’t want to go alone.”

“Won’t the others be there?”

“Yes,” you said, “but they’re not you.” You wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and touched your forehead to his. “I’ll make it worth your while.” You smirked as you bit your lip and an idea formed in your head. “When we get home…” You lowered your hand to palm at his bulge. “I’ll show you how grateful I am.”

Daryl gulped. He hadn’t felt your touch there for so long, he just wanted to throw you on the bed and take you now. He knew you wanted to go to this party, though, and you looked so pretty in your dress. “We won’t stay long?” he asked.

You nodded, rubbing your hand up and down the front of his jeans to feel his hardening cock. “Mhm.” Leaning in to kiss him, you bit his lip as you pulled away. “Then we’ll stay in bed the rest of the night.”

Daryl smirked. “Sounds good ta me.”

At least the bed part of the plan did. The party part, not so much. Still, he’d do anything to make you happy.

You gave him one last quick kiss on the lips. “Good,” you said. You stepped back to scan his dirty, sweaty body, your hands on your hips and shaking your head. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you take a shower, though.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Told ya, I’m clean.”

You ignored him and headed to the closet to begin picking out some clothes for him. “You’re not clean until I say you’re clean,” you said. “Only way you’re gonna get that dirt off is by taking a shower, Daryl.”

Daryl squinted his eyes at you suspiciously as you pulled out a white button-up shirt and black trousers. “I ain’t wearin’ that.”

You sighed. “Come on, Daryl. Those clothes need washed.” You nudged your head at his usual attire—a black button-up shirt with the sleeves cut off, his angel-winged vest, a pair of ripped black jeans, and his brown steel-toed boots that were still soaked in blood from curb stomping that walker earlier. He had all these clothes for so long, only occasionally changing it up when they inevitably became too raggedy to wear.

“Actually,” you corrected yourself after taking a closer look at his clothes, “we might have to burn them.”

“Like hell we do,” he said.

You sighed. “How about this—you take a shower for me, but you can pick out your clothes. Deal?”

Daryl crossed his arms. “Fine.”

He eyed the shower skeptically as you turned it on for him. You held your hand under the stream and adjusted the knobs until it was warm. “They have generators,” you said. “You have to use the hot water sparingly, though. It runs out.”

You turned around and laughed when you saw he was still in his boxers. “Daryl, take your underwear off.”

Daryl looked down at his black boxers. “You’re gonna throw them away, ain’t ya?”

You smirked. “Maybe…” He frowned at you. “There’s lots of new pairs in the drawers, honey.”

He reluctantly began taking off his underwear. “Just don’t throw away my vest… or the boots.”

You rolled your eyes. “I won’t throw anything away. Except those filthy boxers.” You held your hands out for him to hand the soiled underwear to you. It was filled with holes and somehow also stained with walker blood. That stuff was worse than sand. “Now get in there, and wash your hair.”

You kissed his cheek before leaving him alone to shower.

It was a longer shower than you expected, and you heard him fumbling about and cursing when he dropped the shampoo bottle a few times. You heard a series of loud thuds. “You okay in there, butterfingers?” you yelled out to him.

“Yeah,” Daryl yelled back.

You shook your head and laughed as you put the clothes you had picked out for him back. You hung them up again with care, imagining how handsome Daryl would look in fresh, clean clothes that weren’t ripped or stained. Though you adored Daryl’s rugged look, sometimes it was nice to think of him getting cleaned up. All in all, you wanted Daryl to be comfortable and to be himself, so you didn’t bother trying to change him. He was perfect to you just the way he was.

When he came out of the shower, he smelled like roses. You went up to him and sniffed his wet hair with a smile. “Don’t start,” he said.

You laughed. “You smell lovely.”

The two of you got to the party a little while after it started. Daryl took longer than you thought planning his outfit. He did, in fact, wear some of the new clothes in your closet—a long-sleeve black button-up shirt and a new pair of black jeans, but he kept his vest and his boots (which he cleaned), and you were thankful for that. You always liked his vest, and those boots were the only article of clothing he had left from the day you first met. He always wore them.

You kept your pink dress on, and you didn’t have to do much except spray on some perfume and fix your hair again after Daryl rustled it up. The only thing you were missing was makeup, but you had gone so long without it that you didn’t feel it was too necessary. Still, you found yourself missing your old makeup bag for the first time in years.

“(Y/N), Daryl!” Deanna’s excited voice called out to the two of you as you awkwardly stepped in through the front door. The place was crawling with suburbanites and well-dressed people. Though it was easier for you than Daryl to acclimate to Alexandria, you still found yourself overwhelmed by how much it seemed like a world untouched by the apocalypse.

“Oh, I’m so glad you came,” she said, looking you up and down in your dress. “You look great.” She turned to Daryl who was nervously looking around the living room. “Both of you.”

You tugged at Daryl’s arm, trying to get him to pay attention to Deanna. “Thank you,” you said. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world, right, honey?”

Daryl looked at you in bewilderment. You mouthed something to him along the lines of “say something.”

“Um, yeah,” he said.

The three of you were silent for a few awkward moments, with the murmurs of the others nearby you engaging in idle conversation and the soft piano elevator music lulling in the background. “Well,” she said, “welcome. Make yourselves at home.”

It was difficult to do that.

Though you and Daryl met up with Glenn and Maggie, several of the Alexandrians were giving Daryl strange looks, and you, too, by association.

When Glenn and Maggie left a half an hour later, you and Daryl were trying to leave too, but Beverly had found you.

“(Y/N)!” she called to you from across the room.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath.

Daryl reached for his back pocket to make sure he had brought his cigarettes. “I’m gonna wait outside.”

Please don’t leave me with her.

“Okay,” you said before kissing his cheek. “I‘ll be right out.”

Daryl left through the front door, but not without a few more people giving him the eye.

You burned up inside, angry at these so-called “civilians” for looking down at Daryl. You had initially thought Daryl was exaggerating about the looks they were giving him since your group arrived, but now that you saw what he was talking about, you were incensed. It took a whole lot to reach your boiling point, but when it came to Daryl, you were a firecracker.

“Hey! How’s it goin’?” Beverly asked.

You turned to her and smiled. “Oh, good. Just about to head out, actually. Gotta get up early for tomorrow.”

“Oh, right,” she said. “Your first day of teaching. I think those kids are gonna like you, you know. You seem like a natural.”

You shrugged. “Well, I don’t know about that.”

“Trust me, I was an elementary teacher back in the day. You’ve got the stuff, I can already tell.”

You fiddled with your thumbs awkwardly, your small talk hitting its limit for the day.

“Was that your boyfriend?” she asked.

She caught you off guard. “Oh, um… yeah, that was Daryl… in fact, he’s out there waiting for me. He’s really tired, you know.” That was a lie. Daryl was hardly ever tired. He only ever needed a few hours of sleep at a time. “We’re going to turn in for the night.”

Beverly nodded. “I see. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Pick you up around nine and walk you over to the classroom, introduce you to the little rascals.”

You smiled. “Sure, that sounds great. Thanks, Beverly.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Call me Bev.”

“Okay, Bev,” you said. “See you tomorrow.”

You practically sprinted out the door.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Beverly, or the others, it was more so that their presence tired you out. It had been so long since you had to engage in social niceties that you had to work on getting the skill back. To make matters worse, you hated some of the looks you and Daryl were getting. It wasn’t all of the Alexandrians, just some of them.

“We made it,” you huffed as you closed the door and met with Daryl on the front porch. He was leaning against the pole and putting out the butt of his cigarette.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Sure am.”

The two of you began walking down the sidewalk in silence towards your new house, the moon high in the sky and shining down on you. Daryl surprised you by grabbing your hand and swinging it between the two of you. You giggled when he leaned over to kiss your cheek, and his scruff tickled you.

“You’re affectionate today,” you said.

Daryl grunted. “Just missed ya.”

You smiled at him sweetly. “I missed you too, cutie pie.”

As you studied his face, you began to think about the stares he was getting, and you wondered if it affected him. “I’m sorry,” you blurted out.

Daryl only gave you a confused look. “What for?”

You swallowed hard. “For making you go to that… I, um… saw the looks we were getting.”

Daryl shook his head. “They’ve been lookin’ at me like that since we got here, told ya. They don’t trust me. Ain’t much we can do ‘bout it.”

You nodded sadly. “I thought they would be less… judgmental, you know? I mean, there’s no reason for them to look at you like that.”

“It’s ‘cause I ain’t all friendly, like you said.”

You sighed. “I suppose. Still, no reason to treat you like an outsider.”

“Don’t matter how they treat me. You’re the only thing that matters. Long as they treat you good, we’re good.”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice you had stopped in front of Aaron’s house. His porch light flicked on, and you were awakened from your rapture by his voice calling out to you.

“(Y/N), Daryl,” he said as he closed his front door with a squeaking of the hinges. “Hey.”

Daryl turned around and let go of your hand. He never liked public displays of affection, and he wasn’t about ready to make out with you in front of your older brother. “Thought you were goin’ to that party over there?” he asked, pointing to Deanna’s house.

“Yeah, we missed you,” you said to him. “Wasn’t a party without you.”

Aaron smirked. “I was never going to go ‘cause of Eric’s ankle, thank God,” he laughed.

Daryl looked at him confused. “Why the hell’d you tell me to go, then?”

Aaron shrugged. “Wanted to see if you’d actually go, and you did. I’m assuming (Y/N) convinced you, though.”

You snorted. “I didn’t know you two were hanging out without me,” you teased.

Aaron gave you a big smile, then pointed his thumb over his shoulder to his front door. “Why don’t you guys come in? Have some dinner?”

Daryl looked at you silently. Honestly, he just wanted to go home, but he was hungry too. You raised your eyebrows at him to ask if he was okay with it.

He looked back to Aaron, then nodded to you with a grunt.

“Depends,” you said. “What are you making?”

Aaron nudged his head towards the door. “Come on,” he said simply. “It’s some pretty serious spaghetti.”

You followed him in with Daryl closely behind you. Taking his hand in yours, you pulled him closer. He was very stiff. “Relax,” you whispered to him as the two of you walked up the steps. “Aaron likes you a lot.”

Aaron did, in fact, like Daryl.

Though Aaron was older than you by six years, Daryl was even older than him by a few more years. He couldn't help but look at him as a wise man who had been through so much in his time—it was written on Daryl’s face.

In any case, Daryl was the best boyfriend you ever had. Aaron was around for all of them, and he never approved of any of them. Daryl, however, was so different from any man you’d ever been with, and Aaron liked that about him.

He was always immensely impressed with how much he obviously cared about you. He couldn’t say the same for your past boyfriends, who largely took advantage of you and your love for them.

Sitting down to dinner, you sat yourself next to Aaron, with Daryl on the other side facing him and Eric facing you.

You looked at Aaron’s pot of spaghetti in awe.

“You made this yourself?” you asked.

“Yep,” he said, carefully setting the pasta down on the table. “My own recipe.” He paused for a moment before sitting down. “Oh, it’s not vegetarian, (Y/N).”

You laughed at the panicked look on his face. “Oh, I haven’t been vegetarian for a while now. I’ve eaten more squirrels than you can count.”

He shook his head in disbelief, and also relief. “That’s good to know,” he said as he served himself, then grabbed your plate to serve you. “I hope you never make that tofu stir fry again.”

You shoved him playfully. “You loved it, don’t pretend otherwise.”

Eric laughed at the two of you. “So, (Y/N),” he began, “how are you liking Alexandria so far?”

You finished chewing your first bite of spaghetti. “It’s nice,” you said, then looked at Daryl. “Daryl and I just moved into our house today.”

He looked at you with pursed lips as he chewed his food, his mouth covered with red marinara sauce.

“Exciting,” Eric said, looking over at Daryl. “It’s one of the three bedrooms, right?”

You nodded. “Yes. Way too big for us, actually, but I’m thinking of maybe turning one into a study. Daryl can have the other one to do what he wants with it, I think.”

Daryl didn’t say anything, just kept clanking his fork against the plate as he ate like a wild animal, sucking up the spaghetti with a slurping sound.

Aaron and Eric smiled at each other, and you tried to hold back your laugh.

Aaron cleared his throat. “That sounds like a good plan, (Y/N). I think you’re gonna like that house a lot. The others who have that model are really happy with it.”

You smiled. “I just can’t believe I have my own house, you know? I never thought it would happen.”

You were all silent for a while then, except for Daryl, whose slurps and groans in appreciation continued threatening laughs from the three of you.

“Mmm,” he grunted as he took his last slurp of spaghetti, his plate completely empty. “Thanks.”

His face was even more drenched in marinara sauce, his beard hairs stained red. “Daryl, honey,” you said to him quietly. He looked up at you as you gestured to your own face. “You’ve got a little something.”

Aaron let out a snort, not unlike your own.

You handed him your napkin and he balled it up to wipe it across his face.

Eric turned to Daryl as he seemed to recall something he wanted to say to him. “When you’re out there,” he began, “if you happen to be in a store, or something, Mrs. Neudermeyer’s really looking for a pasta maker.”

Daryl nodded awkwardly as he took a sip of his wine and looked between you and Aaron across the table.

You were confused, but Aaron had a knowing look.

“I mean, we have crates of dried pasta in here,” Eric continued, “but she wants to make her own or something. I really just think she wants something to talk about, so…” He trailed off, then spoke again. “If you see one, out on your travels, it would go a long way to…”

Aaron gave Eric a look that you knew meant “shut up” from your own experience with your brother.

“I thought it was done,” Eric said, awkwardly twirling his spaghetti. “You didn’t ask him already?”

Aaron shook his head.

“Ask me what?”

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