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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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“harry’s stylist, right?” part II

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this gif bc i couldn’t fine the fit i wanted to showcase, but that night him and y/n get closer than they had gotten before :))

and we’re back :) - this is the last part of this i may do some little blurbs and stuff about these two if people want it (maybe) i hope you all enjoy this part, it’s not proofread so sorry about that lol. Feedback and reblogs are so very very appreciated, also feel free to message me about you’re feelings about this

Word Count: just over 10k | Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, implication of smut, i think that’s it

part 1

After the call with Jeff, which wasn’t really a conversation at all, moreso a berating from him, she was in the worst mood. She shrugged off the Bode jacket and hung it up in her entryway closet. She wasn’t planning on wearing it ever again. Without the jacket on, her shirt that seemed to be exactly on the nose with it’s “we’re in the shit” graphic was clear and she untucked it from her light mint pants. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Instead of picking her phone up again, she decided she could do without communication for a while. Her feet padded to her bedroom, after removing her nikes and socks. In her bedroom she opened up her record player, wanting music, but not wanting to be bothered with her laptop since it had a connection to the internet.

She grabbed her Electric Warrior by T. Rex and slipped out the first record from its sheath. As she set up the music, she couldn’t remember where she’d even gotten the record but for some reason it had called to. She skipped over Mambo Sun, the first track, though, and had it play Cosmic Dancer first. It was calming to her, she swayed a bit to the soothing beat and then climbed into her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she wondered about when her life had gotten so complicated. The rhythm in the music and the exhausting thought material lulled her to sleep as the afternoon sun washed her room a perfect golden from behind her shade.

When she woke up again, it was midnight and she was starving. The record had stopped spinning hours ago, she hadn’t even gotten through side A. It was forgotten as she made her way to her kitchen, groggily.

After settling on cereal and an alcoholic seltzer for dinner, she was really in the mood to treat herself, she made her way back to her living space. On the couch, she tucked her legs beneath herself and spooned the sugary food into her mouth. She had only soy milk in the place because she didn’t like cow’s milk and it didn’t keep when she was gone for extended periods of time. Then as she sipped from the black cherry White Claw, she dug her hand into the cushion next to her. Her hand reemerged with her discarded phone from earlier. She decided it was reasonable to go on it now.

More messages from various people in her life and hundreds of social media notifications. She was going to ignore social media for as long as she possibly could. Four missed calls. 2 voicemails. Styles Harry. Why she kept contacts backwards in her phone was unimportant, it’s just what she did.

She sighed and took a bigger sip of the barely alcoholic drink. Then clicked the voicemail notifications and pressed the first one on speaker as she began to read his texts as well. Then the next voicemail. She checked the time in California, it was still a reasonable part of the day there so instead of texting back she rang him.

“Hello?”

“Har- H. Hi.”

“Y/N! Are you alright?” The concern apparent in his tone. She was taken aback. He hadn’t necessarily sounded angry in his texts or voicemails, but she just assumed he was being courteous since it was a live conversation.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No! Why would I be?”

“Because I just had my ass handed to me by Jeff earlier.” She slightly mumbled and shrugged, still upset with how she had been spoken to by Jeff.

“Oh gosh, I told him not to be harsh. It’s honestly not a big deal. I thought it was fine, you texted me too!”

“Yeah, well apparently wearing your clothes means we’re dating and that’s not cool in the world’s eyes,” you scoff.

“I know how much you like that coat...I thought you looked great in it, too.” He finishes in a slight whisper, not wanting to be overheard.

“Harry…” you can’t keep the smile off your face. It was a cute compliment even if the situation wasn’t ideal. “Why do your fans have to be so smart and know there’s only two of those coats in the world and I don’t own the other one.”

He laughs, blushing at how you said his name. This time not using his nickname didn’t bother him, it felt even more intimate somehow.

He rubs a hand through his hair, “I know, pesky little devils, gotta love’em, though”

She hums, not sure if she can agree about loving them right now since they’re probably eating her alive all over social media.

“So you’re alright, darling?” He asks again.

“Mhmm,” she pauses at the pet name, it was soothing right now. All she wanted was to curl into his chest, but he was half a world away, quite literally. His words would have to do in his absence. “I’m really glad you’re not mad at me, H. That would’ve made this a hundred times worse.”

He huffs, wishing he could be with her to comfort her. He hated this part of his life. A friend couldn’t borrow a piece of his clothing without everyone assuming that they were seeing each other. It was disgusting and it made him dislike tabloids and social media even more than he already did.

“Trust me. I’d never be mad at you, pet. And I’d definitely never be mad at you for looking good as fuck in my clothes.”

“Shut up!” She squeals, his tone turning from earnest to teasing in one breath. He cackles on the other end of the line because despite her mean words, he could hear the smile on her lips.

“When are you flying back to London?” Her voice grows quiet again after she takes another sip of her drink.

“Thursday,” he almost whispers back, having contained his mirth again.

“We have some work to do on your Graham Norton and Jingle Bell Ball outfits. The listening party ones are all picked up -”

“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off, “It’s late for you, go to bed. Try not to stress out too much, we’ll talk when I’m back about work. For now, take a few days off to not think about my clothes.”

She sighs, “Thanks, H. You’re right. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Goodnight, m’love.”

She ends the phone call and chalks the almost ‘my’ sounding syllable that she heard before love was just her tired mind and Harry’s mumbling voice. It most certainly wasn’t.

After a restful few days of doing absolutely nothing, something rare for Y/N, she was extremely well rested. So much so that she was peacefully asleep when Harry let himself into her flat since they had agreed to meet at her place when he got back to London. As much as he wanted her to take time off and not over work herself, his schedule was a busy one and now that he was back, they had work to do.

Inside her flat, he was greeted with silence. He made his way to her bedroom at the back of the flat. He’d been here a handful of times. She always told him she preferred to spread out when she worked and Harry’s was the place for that. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar and he pushed it open slowly with his ring clad hand. His black nails are freshly painted and shiny, no chips. Still in her bed, Y/N shifted around softly. He smiled to himself, taking in how the room smelled over lavender and how she had pink floral sheets. He walked to the window and raised the shade, hoping to have her wake up without and coaxing from him.

“H,” her voice mumbles into her pillow and he thinks she’s woken up. His face turns to look at her, but her eyes are still closed and she looks completely asleep. He wonders if she’s trying to trick him, but then she mumbles again.

“Mhhh, tha’ tickles,” and she giggles. He kind of grimaces, feeling like he shouldn’t be hearing this. He hadn’t known she spoke in her sleep, it was sweet, but with the context right now, he thought him having this knowledge might not sit well with her.

“Y/N,” he says loudly, before clearing his throat. Her eyes shoot wide and she sits up, dropping the sheet she had been snuggling.

“Harry! Oh my god!”

“Meeting, remember?”

“Oh my god,” she glances around her surroundings, Harry still standing at her window. “What time is it?”

“1 pm. We said 1 right?”

“We did, I just...I don’t know what happened. Sorry, give me a second. I’m out of it.”

When she emerged from her room, dressed and ready for the day, Harry had brewed a pot of coffee with her machine that she really only had for guests.

“Sorry again,” she sits at her countertop, searching for her notebook in her bag.

“No worries,” then he leans across the countertop, “Seemed like you were in the middle of a nice dream.”

His brows are raised as she avoids his gaze. She flushes easily, “I- it was...just one of those usual dreams.”

“You have dreams about me often?”

“I didn’t say that!” Her eyes shoot up to meet his and he grins. He takes a sip of his coffee before speaking again.

“I heard you say ‘H’.”

She rolls her eyes, “That proves nothing.”

They both stare at each other for a minute, not talking or moving. Harry is simply grinning at her as she twitches her hand with her pen in it now. Her eyes are trying to figure out what Harry’s getting at, searching his expression for how he feels about knowing she dreams of him. She certainly wasn’t going to get into it with him, even if he did continue prodding.

“Alright,” she begins when he doesn’t seem to want to press it further. “Oh!” She jumps up, dropping her pen and forgetting about whatever else she was going to say. “Your jacket! And shirt! I cleaned the shirt and the jacket…” She runs out of the room to go to her front closet where she had hung up both the jacket and the shirt.

Returning, she holds them out to Harry and he rounds the countertop to look at them.

“Perfect shape,” he admires the spotless shirt and his beloved jacket. He puts them on the back of the chair that was next to them. “Won’t forget my jacket again.”

She smiles sheepishly, thinking back to Jeff’s conversation with her. Harry notices her change in demeanor and takes one of her hands. Her eyes flash up to his face and her body tenses, he feels it even in her hand.

“Have you gone on any social media since you’ve been home?” His eyes are wide as he runs his thumb over the back of her hand.

She softens slightly, “Oh yeah, after the first day I decided to check. Most were funny and sweet, their nasty comments didn't get to me.”

Her eyes are big on her face and Harry watches as her worries and concerns all wash through the swirling colors in them. He wants to take all of that pain away and just stare into her abyss forever.

“What did Jeff say exactly?” He knows that’s what she’s alluding to. Harry loved his manager, but when he had called him about the jacket incident he had been pretty short with Harry and hadn’t given much information on his chat with Y/N. The way she looked right now bothered him because ultimately Harry was in charge of Y/N in his employment of her and if Jeff had acted like her superior in a way that was harmful he’d be downright upset.

Her eyes grow glassy immediately and Harry’s anger begins to bubble in the pit of his stomach. She tries to blink anything away, but fails.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, it wasn’t terrible. It’s just, all my life, I’ve had to work to be taken seriously because of who I am and I hate when I get talked down to by a man. Especially over a stupid fucking publicity thing for you. Like I’m sorry, but I don’t see you as a public figure where I have to worry about every goddamn thing I do messing up your image.” She pauses, taking a deep breath, realizing she’d gotten really worked up as she spoke. The tears running down her face more in anger than sadness. Harry watches on, letting her work through her thought process. “He was just so mean… for what?” She whispers finally.

“Oh god…darling,” Harry grips her hand more firmly. He wants to take her in his arms, but he’s not sure if that’s what’s best for her right now, so he just keeps holding her hand. She stares up at him, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. Her eyes now tinted a light red.

“I’m sorry he spoke to you in that way. That isn’t his job at all, I’ll definitely talk to him since I didn’t have the full story before. He gets very worried about the media perception thing, especially right now with the album.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, blinking up at Harry. “I know your image is important, too, otherwise why the fuck would I be here? Right? I just don’t think it’s that big of a deal I borrowed the jacket.”

“In a perfect world my image wouldn’t matter at all,” Harry sighed, “Fame is a stupid, fickle thing musicians like me get stuck with.”

“Please, you love the attention,” she teases, poking at his chest. The sweatshirt he wore wrinkling under her touch.

“‘M serious,” he insists, “I’m saying it shouldn’t matter that you borrowed my jacket, but sadly it comes across to the rest of the world like I’m dating you.” He pokes her sternum in return.

“And that would be the end of the world?” she smiles, her tone still teasing, but that worry is back and swimming in her eyes again.

This time, though, Harry must not see it because he laughs and lets go of her hand. “For a lot of people, I think it might be.”

She bites at her lip and tries to contain the laugh that bubbles in her. He was right and as he wandered back into the kitchen for more coffee, she shook her head trying to rid herself of those pesky feelings that had been hoping for a different answer.

The next few weeks go off without a hitch. Harry’s outfits look incredible for the listening parties. Then for the Graham Norton Show, the Jingle Bell Ball, and the One Night Only at the Forum. Every single outfit is received with praise and everything seems to be coming up Harry Styles. Y/N has been traveling to most of his appearances, making sure everything is in order before he goes out. She’s always by his side before he walks out into the public eye. Taking his picture and saving it in the lookbook that keeps growing, smoothing over his lapels, either unbuttoning or buttoning a middle button when she thought he had too many or not enough undone for the look. Whatever it was, she was there for him.

Then, after his appearances, they would debrief. Debriefs really were just time that Harry carved out in his schedule to just be alone with Y/N. Sure, they talked about clothes, that’s how they had first connected, but it always turned to other ideas. They’d talk about his songs and she’d ask about the meanings that he wouldn’t share with the rest of the world. He’d happily tell her about it and they enjoyed that time together. There were stolen glances and lingering touches, but at the end of the day they were professionals who were friends. It wasn’t maybe what either of them wanted, but they weren’t unhappy.

Harry just got back from Los Angeles after filming for his Ellen show appearance and he was set to play the Bowery Ballroom tomorrow in London. After this there was going to be a lot of downtime on Harry’s schedule because of the holidays. He had marked out almost a whole month of time off, at least from appearances. They still had to start planning tour outfits and finalize the outfits for the events after the break. Right now, all she was focused on was getting Harry into the beautiful yellow Gucci suit that was a twin of the Watermelon Sugar suit he had worn on Saturday Night Live. Harry said he wanted to check the suit before tomorrow for some reason, so Y/N had made her way over.

She finished buttoning the sleeves of the jacket and stepped back to admire Harry once again. No matter what he wore he always looked marvelous in her eyes. She’d argue anyone could say that about Harry though. He could pull anything off and make it his own with barely any effort.

Today, his hair was disheveled and mused from his plane ride back into London. The flight from California to England was a rough one, even when you traveled in the type of luxury Harry did. Despite his tired body and eyes, the suit looked stunning on him. He wore it without shoes and she giggled when she saw his feet. His feet tattoos never failed to make her laugh and she had no explanation for why.

While Harry looked good in everything, there actually was something a little off with the suit right now. Normally, it hugged him just right to make him look perfectly muscled and defined, but it seemed to be hanging a little looser in some areas.

She tapped a finger to her lip, looking him over, unsure of what was off.

“Did you lose weight, H?”

“Huh?” He looks down at himself and somewhat notices the looser fit, but wasn’t quite sure if he had lost weight. “Don’t think so.”

She hums and steps closer to him, dropping her hands to tug at various parts of the suit, trying to figure out whether she should take anything in or leave it be.

“It’s probably all the travel I’ve been doin’. Can be draining me more than I realize.” He ponders as she continues to work silently over the suit.

Her hands travel beneath the suit and encircle his waist, almost as if she’s hugging him, but not really. His stomach flexes at the contact, her chest pressed softly against his. She grips a bit of the shirt from the back and then unfolds herself from him to look at the mirror. The shirt is now taut against his sternum and pectorals under the coat. She tilts her head, silently asking him his opinion.

“I think it’s fine the way it is, honestly.”

“Okay,” she nods and releases her hold on the shirt, hand slithering out from beneath his coat. He exhales deeply through his nose. “Make sure you eat properly tonight.” She says before beginning to pack up her things, done for the day. Harry begins to undress himself.

She turns back to face him as he hands her the jacket and shirt, her eyes run over the length of his torso, both for the sake of checking on his health and for other purely selfish reasons. All the tattoos still remained where they always were when she saw him like this. It never got old, his beautiful body. He didn’t even need clothes to look good. She blinks back to reality when the fabric comes in contact with her hand.

“Make sure you treat yourself this holiday season, you deserve it, H. And it seems like any weight you ever gain is muscle anyways, so you don’t exactly have to worry around the sweets table.”

Harry laughs heartily as he slips on his long sleeve shirt he was wearing. Then he starts on the pants as she turns away again to hang up the top parts of the suit.

Finally, she adds when he hands her the suit pants, “Just don’t want you overworking yourself, seriously, H.”

He looks at her as he buttons up his baggy blue jeans. The outfit he wore was just the first clean things he had grabbed when he had gotten home. His green eyes turn serious after the mirthfilled last few moments.

He crosses to her side as she puts away the clothes in the garment bag. His hand lands softly on her shoulder and she turns to him at his touch. “I know. You’re so good to me, darling. Always making sure I’m taking care of myself…”

It’s quiet. The soft breeze in the London air outside barely whispers around the house. Harry’s voice was laced with love, even if it wasn’t his intention. His ‘thank you’ was piercing into her heart and his touch wasn’t helping her stay focused. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt Harry take a step closer to her, his head ducking slightly down to her level. Then, right on the edge of her left temple and her hairline, his soft lips pressed against her skin. They brushed against her for just a moment, lingering for the respectful amount of time. But all she wanted was anything but respectful. She wanted his lips pressed against hers, she wanted his hands in her hair, yanking her deeply into him. She wanted to scream when he pulled away, but she didn’t. She smiled warmly up at Harry and her eyelashes fluttered on their own accord like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thank you,” he whispers again.

“What would you do without me?” She pushes at him playfully, shaking off her giddiness. Then she turns back to her work, scooping up all the items of hers on the table.

“Probably have to walk around naked, huh?”

“Oh my god!” She laughs and starts for the door, Harry follows behind to walk to her out to her car. “Maybe I should quit! People would love it.” She continues laughing as she hangs the garment in the passenger's seat side.

“No thank you, please,” Harry hurriedly says.

She turns to him as she closes the door and leans against the car. This was their routine right before she left, a final chat against the car before she drove off for the night.

“Tomorrow’s going to be amazing, H. It’s gonna be electric!” She scrunches her nose slightly at the pun about the venue as she smiles up at him.

He sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek, holding back a laugh. His eyes narrow at her, slyly. “Very funny.”

She only winks at him before pushing herself off of her car and walks to the driver’s side of the car.

He waves as she begins to pull out of the driveway and she flashes him a peace sign and a mouthed ‘Bye’ when she turns onto the street.

After the Bowery Ballroom show, Y/N barely sees Harry at the after party. She doesn’t worry about it too much. His management was going to have a holiday party next week before the little break began for the team. So, she knew she’d see him before she flew back to see her family for the holidays. She was going home for two weeks and then would be back for New Year’s and then would get back to work after that.

She saw Harry exactly twice after the show. First, she saw Harry right after the show and he was all sweaty and exhilarated. He tackled her in a bear hug with such strength she would have fallen back if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly. When he pulled away, he placed two extremely slobbery kisses on her cheeks and she laughed, tipping her head back in pure bliss. Then he was pulled away by Jeff to change and get ready for the after party.

Jeff had apologized over text about the tone he had taken over the whole jacket thing, but only Harry had told him to. It was fine with Y/N, she told him that too, but she just never felt like being around him for very long if she could help it after that. That’s why she liked that most of her job entailed dealing with Harry directly. If she had to go through Jeff for everything she’d likely pull her hair out. He was still short with her at whole team meetings and not necessarily courteous when they were around each other casually. Like she said, it was fine, she just didn’t make it her business to be around Jeff.

The second time she saw Harry was around half past one am. She was pretty sure it was time for her to uber home and she wanted to say goodbye to Harry. Her well-liquored body stumbled around the big room. Deciding to take shots with the band had gotten her to where she was now and she wasn’t complaining she was happy. She was in a celebratory mood and wanted to see Harry right now. Tell him how much fun she had and how proud she was of him. How much she loved him… Hopefully she kept that part to herself.

“Harry!” She finally exclaims, coming upon a group of people surrounding the star himself. She ignored the rest of the people, likely stars too, but she really couldn’t care less. One of them tried to straighten up as if he was going to block her from Harry, feeling like she maybe wasn’t someone Harry wanted to see since they didn’t know her. No one seemed to ever recognize Y/N as Harry’s stylist when it mattered. Harry waved them off, a little drunk as well, but obviously recognizing Y/N.

“Darling!” He exclaims and raises his arms out to her. She grips onto him quickly and snuggles into him happily. With her still in his arms, he turns them from the prying eyes of the group he had been with.

She raises her head from his warm chest so that her lips are near his ear, “Congratulations, Mr. Styles.”

“Thanks, baby,” he purrs into her ear, his voice coarse and low, carrying over the music. She giggles at the nickname, her entire plan going out the metaphorical window.

Her fingers smooth up over the fabric on his chest, a nice short sleeve silk button down that was tucked into dark high waisted trousers - they’d picked it out last week. One of her fingers begins to trace around his collarbone after she reaches the opening of the shirt. His eyes flutter shut at the contact. They were so needy for each other. Each touch would coarse heat through them every time.

“I’m going…” She says after a moment of silence between them. The party was raging around them, most not paying any mind to the two of them off in their own world.

“Don’t go,” Harry practically begs. A hand flies up to pet over the top of her hair and she smiles even wider.

“It’s late and I’m tired,” she makes a face in response to Harry’s pout, “You have lots of people to entertain, Mr. Styles.” Her teeth capture her bottom lip as she stares at him intently.

He groans and pulls her closer. This time his lips brush right against her ear and she wants to shiver, but he keeps her in place. “If you keep calling me that, you’re gonna drive me insane.”

Her eyes widen but her hazy mind isn’t processing all of what is going on. She barely takes inventory of ‘baby’, for him to say she’s turning him on without actually saying it. Tomorrow Y/N would have to deal with that one.

She pulls back from him, creating space between their chests, but he still holds her waist close to him. She leans up and places a kiss on the corner of his lips. It’s technically supposed to be a kiss on the cheek but if she had moved her lips a millimeter to the right they would have been on Harry’s. This gesture has his grip tightening on her, but she pulls away.

“Goodnight!” She sings as she bounces out of sight, wiggling her fingers in a wave before completely being gone.

Harry sighs and runs a hand over his face, kind of in shock of the last five minutes. He had liked it. He just hadn’t expected it. When he turns his attention back to the group that was behind him, it’s not the same as it was before. Jeff looks at him with narrowed eyes and Harry’s eyes go wide and his grin widens as well.

Tonight is the management holiday party for Harry’s team. Y/N and Harry had seen each other two days after the Electric Ballroom to debrief, but mostly to get brunch. They didn’t talk about the little teases they shared at the after party. Both of them just assumed that the other probably didn’t remember and didn’t want to go through the trouble and embarrassment of recounting it. Alcohol has that effect of making you a little bolder than you actually are.

Brunch with Harry solidified Y/N’s thoughts on fame. Celebrity could be so strange, because there was the one day when she got photographed with just Harry’s jacket on and there was speculation of dating, but then she could go out to brunch with him and not be bothered at all. It made absolutely no sense.

Anyway, tonight there were no gifts, but Y/N had gotten Harry something even though he said he never needs anything. She hoped she’d be able to give it to him after they were walking back to their transportation since she wanted it to be a surprise and not have everyone know she gave him a gift. It wasn’t a big deal - or maybe it was - it was just an item she knew Harry had been fawning over. It was so him and she knew he’d probably end up buying it for himself eventually, but it felt nice to be able to give him something for once. Price didn’t matter. Still, she was a little nervous and tucked and re-tucked it several times in the back seat of her car before heading inside.

It was a restaurant his management had rented out for their party. She gave her name and headed inside. The lighting was overly dimmed and it smelled like expensive alcohol and delicious food. It was everything an A-list singer deserved as a celebration. She never could fully grasp that the Harry she had gotten to know as her friend was also the same Harry that the entire world was infatuated with, for good reason. He was charming in the best way, terribly sincere, insanely talented, and all around a good human being. She knew that, it just surprised her that everyone else knew it too. There was just that disconnect for her that she shared him with the rest of the world.

Her high heeled heels brought her to the backroom of the restaurant. They managed to shimmer even in the dim light. She had gone for winter chic with a sequin and mesh white dress, that looked like fresh snow with a cream and blue swirling design on the under layer so that her undergarments weren’t showing through. It was like a modern ice princess look that was finished with her heels that had sparkles on the entire back of them. Her hair was down and her makeup a little more done up than usual. She used a light blue eyeshadow to imitate ice and added some rhinestones on the inner parts of her eyes. She may have watched a Euphoria-inspired makeup look tutorial on youtube and she wasn’t afraid to admit that.

The scene she came upon was what she expected. Lots of men in suits and a good amount of women in power suits too. The people in any interesting clothes were Harry and his band. Some of the business people’s partners were dressed up more but it all wasn’t too exciting. Plus, Harry’s famous friends group hadn’t shown up yet. Y/N hid her disappointment easily, not surprised about the lack of flavor she saw in the style. She just repeated the mantra her mother had always told her: “You can never be overdressed, only underdressed.” It stuck with her always and made her go for those bolder styles when she needed to.

Harry was there, sipping on a glass of water. She figured he might not want to get started on drinking so early in the evening. Tonight didn’t feel like a drinking night for her either. After the last big party, she had woken up with a massive hangover and a few memories that she wished she hadn’t made. She wasn’t planning on repeating that series of events.

As she goes to grab a glass of water on the large table, she gets a tap on her shoulder. She spins.

“Happy Holidays, darling!”

Her eyes widen and her smile immediately grows. Harry grins back at her, his mouth open in the perfect winning smile of his and his eyes twinkling with happiness.

“Happy Holidays to you too, Mr.-” She stops herself, remembering back to the last party, “H.” She finishes firmly after clearing her throat. Harry’s grin turns to a wicked knowing smirk.

“I’m happy you came! I know you’re not super connected to all of the groups here, Harry Lambert is around somewhere though and I know he’s been wanting to talk with you about clothes.”

Harry watches as her eyes shine even brighter when he mentions the other stylist. It was true, Y/N didn’t really mesh with any of the groups that worked around Harry. The stylist kind of stood alone in regards to where she fit into his life, not the business part, not the band part, not the crew, and not the other celebrities. Harry Lambert and other fashion people didn’t always come to these events so it was seldom that Y/N had her own people to talk to. Not that mingling was hard for her, he just knew she didn’t like to do that as much so whenever another stylist or designer was there he always made sure to introduce them - if they weren’t already acquainted.

“That’s amazing! I haven’t seen him in ages… I’ll have to get his opinion on how I’ve been doing.”

Harry licks his lips as he laughs a little at her comment. She looked beautiful tonight and he wanted to tell her.

“Harry. What the hell are you wearing?” Her eyes flash as she takes in his appearance.

He looks down at himself and then back at her confused. They hadn’t picked the outfit out, but he thought it looked nice.

“Obviously not the suit! On your head?”

“Oh. It’s a gift from Mitch and Sarah.” He pauses to reach up to play with the headband sat on top of his curls. “It’s mistletoe and it seems like you’re standing beneath it. You know what that means,” he toys with it as he wiggles his eyebrows.

She scoffs sarcastically, looking to the side for a means of escape, “No way.”

“C’mon! It’s tradition!” He steps forward playfully and she places a hand on his chest.

“You can kiss my cheek.” She says finally and Harry looks at her disapprovingly.

He wags a finger at her with his free hand, “You’re the one under the mistletoe, you have to kiss me.”

“Okay that’s definitely not how this works! Now you don’t get any kiss at all, you cheeky bastard.”

“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you’re the one with coal in your stocking.”

“Haha.” Her eyes once again roll to the side as she pushes him back and he steps back like she actually had a strong push. Then they both actually laugh and she gives him a quick side hug with a whispered, “there”. Harry smiles down at her, but it falters slightly when she’s already pulling away. He wanted her at his side the entire night, but sadly that wasn’t reality.

She drags him around the restaurant in search of Harry Lambert since the party had started to grow and she needed his height to get her where she wanted to go. Maybe. Or maybe she just liked the way he held her hand to lead her through the crowd that was most definitely not dense enough for her to have to hold on to him to stay with him at all.

She sees more of Harry at this party. They have some good conversations about plans for the holidays and snickering about who was already too drunk even though it wasn’t even midnight. She can’t believe he keeps on the stupid headband all night, giving and receiving various types of kisses from every person he talks to. Some are kisses on the cheek, others are friendly smooches on the mouth. Thankfully all of them are those cute little pecks that friends always tend to share, otherwise Y/N might have had to excuse herself and leave early. Jealous little thing.

As the night dragged on, she began to question herself on that front. Why was she growing jealous when friends would kiss Harry. She could've kissed Harry. She practically did the other week. But now, after refusing him a mistletoe kiss and seeing everyone else do what she didn’t have the courage to do, she felt childish. Well, childish or not, she knew why she couldn’t kiss him. Kissing Harry wouldn’t be just a friend thing for her. It would mean a lot more and if it was just a friend thing for him she wouldn’t be sure if she could handle going on with their working relationship after. Her job was the most important thing in her life. Being a stylist, loving clothes, and working on personal designs for the future was her life. Giving up this prestigious of a job was out of the question. Maybe the idea of being with Harry had crossed her mind, but she didn’t know how it could ever be realistic. If they got together could she keep her job? Would she have to quit? And find a new one? There were too many unknowns for her to ever actually entertain it. That’s why they went to the edge so often, she always would back away and she was sure that if she didn’t, Harry would for her.

He knew her. He knew her passion, he watches it firsthand everyday they work together. Even when they’re not working he can see her mind forming different ideas just based off of the things she sees people wear on the streets. He watches her fingers fiddle over her phone, typing out notes for design ideas and screenshotting inspiration. So every time they went to the edge of changing their relationship, he knew he couldn’t push it because he never wanted to hurt her or her dreams in some way. She was too important to him to simply mess that up. Even if it hurt him.

So when Harry slides in the back of her car that night at 2 am because Y/N says she has something important to show him, he’s fully ready to stop their flirting from going any further. And when she tells him she needs to show him something, she has the most pure intentions when she pulls out the nicely wrapped box, its wrapping paper a swirling lavender pattern that’s really not festive at all, but she prefers it.

He looks between her and the box that she’s now placed in his lap. His green eyes flickering even in the darkness of the car, the city lights illuminating the backseat enough for them.

“You know I don’t need anything…” He fiddles with the skinny mesh ribbon neatly tied around the box.

She makes a little gesture, pushing him to open the present, “I know, but I also know you’ve been wanting this and you deserve it.”

He unwraps the paper to reveal a Gucci box and he rolls his eyes at her, but smiles genuinely as he lifts the top of the box off. It reveals a 1955 Horsebit Shoulder Bag in beautiful shiny black leather. It’s gorgeous.

“I can’t...I don’t know what to say,” Harry’s eyes are huge as his delicate hands ghost over the bag's details. He had been wanting it and he hadn’t gotten the courage to buy it yet. He liked purses, but sometimes he even had his doubts about what he could pull off.

His eyes go back to her and she smiles widely at him, all her teeth on display because she’s just that happy. “This is a really expensive bag, Y/N.”

“If it makes you feel better I can charge it as a wardrobe expense, but then it’s not really a gift from me,” She sighs at his unrelenting gaze.

“Thank you.” He touches at the bag again and then does a dance in his spot. “And don’t worry, I will always remember this as a gift from you. I love it.”

She smiles and leans over the box to look at the bag, admiring the beauty of it as well. “It’s pretty great.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hums and she raises her eyes, seeing his trained on her face. “You’re under the mistletoe again, darling,” he smirks.

Her breath stops once again, how could he do that to her so easily? Their eyes stay locked under the city lights. The fake mistletoe bobs above them still connected to the silly headband. It’s colorful leaves and fun stripes mock her when she flicks her gaze up to it for a moment. Then back to Harry. Harry who’s holding the gift she just gave him. Harry who looks beautiful tonight. Harry who is her favorite person in the world to spend time with.

Now. Now is when she pulls back from the ledge. This is when she takes a step back and stops herself. When Harry laughs it off. When she pushes him away. When they go about the rest of their day like that electricity hadn’t gone up either of their spines.

But that’s not what happens. Instead, she nods in agreement and then crashes her lips against Harry’s. It’s not like those friend kisses that had happened with him all night under that same mistletoe. It’s hard and hot and fast. Her lips are pressed to his for one searing moment and then she’s biting his lip, desperate to taste more of him. She had been longing for this for so long and now that she had it, she couldn’t let it go.

Harry’s hands fly to her cheeks as he pulls her closer, more into his lap. He pushes the box into the front area of the car blindly. The gift was completely forgotten. This was a far more important matter. Her lips were wet and plush and they tasted like the single Manhattan she had halfway through the night and vanilla lip gloss. When she bites his lip, he can’t hold back the moan inside his throat and she presses her tongue into his mouth quickly. He was her oasis and she had been traveling for months. He responds with similar vigor, enjoying the way her body presses to his in the backseat of this little car.

They kiss for as long as they can. Licking, sucking, and biting each other’s lips to taste as much as they can. But it’s just kissing. Neither of them work to travel anywhere else. Their lips are seemingly enough. Each press of their lips communicates what they had been longing for. It’s euphoric.

When the windows start to fog and her eyes open for a random moment, she realizes they need to cool whatever this is.

“H-Harry,” She gulps for a breath of air and she tries to get his attention. “I gotta get home.”

“Come back to my place,” he mumbles into her collarbone, happily licking over his love bite.

She laughs and swallows slowly, “That is definitely out of the question, I have a flight tomorrow.”

He removes his mouth from her and straightens up. His lips are even brighter pink than usual and perfectly puffy. His hair disheveled from her hands. She blushes at the thought.

“Right, forgot about that,” he opens the car door and they both slide out. They stand at her car, just like they usually did outside his house. However this time is quite different from most.

They sigh heavily, in unison. The winter air is cold in London. She shivers slightly and knows she can’t stay in his presence much longer.

“Merry Christmas, H.”

He leans down and places one last sweet kiss to her lips. She wrinkles her nose and smiles unabashedly.

“Merry Christmas, Darling.”

Harry and her don’t talk as much while she’s back home for the holidays. There’s no work to be discussed and while they parted on not necessarily bad terms, there was definitely a conversation that needed to be had between the two. Neither seemed to want to have that conversation over the phone, or worse, text. So for the next week and a half, Harry and Y/N exchanged texts of funny memes that reminded them of each other and odd anecdotes from family members that had made them laugh. Nothing really substantial, just small, I was thinking of you messages.

When she walked out of the luggage carousel at London Heathrow Airport, she expected to be getting in the queue for an uber. Instead, before she could cross the street to get to the queue even, a tall man stopped her. A tall, scruffy, extremely buff, extremely handsome, and extremely kissable man. Harry. It would be terribly strange if it was anyone else.

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you need a lift back to your flat?” His dark sunglasses cover his face and a big coat, scarf, and hat make him hardly recognizable. The curls sticking out from beneath the cute knit scarf are thankfully a dead give away for her. As well as his perfect drawling voice.

She shivered in the cold, her matching grey sweatpants and Treat People With Kindness sweatshirt had been warm enough on the flight, but proved inadequate for almost January in London. Yet, Harry’s presence brings a smile to her face.

“It’s good to see you, H.”

He laughs, his cover obviously blown. His arms encircle her body and she instantly melts into his embrace. His large coat easily fell around her and warmed her. His own natural body heat adds to her new found warmth as well.

“You too,” he murmured. His head buries into the crook of her neck, warming her cold skin.

He pulls back after a rather long embrace, realizing they’re still out on the sidewalk. He takes one step back and she visibly deflates at his absence, the cold once again surrounding her.

“Let’s get you home,” he grabs at the handle of her suitcase in one hand and her hand in the other. The warmth returns and she grins, placated by his touch.

“So are you coming to my party tonight?” He inquires once he settles into the driver’s seat after putting her suitcase in the back.

She shifts in her seat, arms wrapped tightly around herself, still cold without any warmth from Harry or the car. “Don’t you suppose there was a reason why I chose to come home today?”

Harry’s ears perk at the use of home, never assuming Y/N viewed London as her home, still it made him smile.

As the car purrs to life, heat immediately seeping out of the seats and vents, Harry’s phone connects as well. NFWMB by Hozier begins to play softly and she glances at Harry again. The song was so sultry and soft, like expensive dark chocolate melting on your tongue. The mood in the car seemed to shift. Their eyes met, Harry’s green ones narrowing at her, trying to decipher the look she was giving to him.

Then he drove off, softly singing along to the words through the sleepy streets. It was surprisingly quiet out for the holidays, people choosing to lay low during the day so they could celebrate the changing of decades in full force tonight.

After the song ends, his eyes travel over to her again and she’s already looking at him. She had missed his face. Sure, he’d sent some silly selfies while she was gone. Mostly on Christmas Eve with his family when he had gotten drunk on mulled wine and eggnog and brandy. Still, in person, he was even more beautiful. The high cheek bones that glistened with a shine most makeup could only hope to produce. Full raspberry lips with stubble growing to frame above and below. The crinkles growing on his forehead and by his eyes that showed him aging with grace. The precious few moles that had gotten lucky enough to live on his face forever. His big green eyes that were consistently bright with interest and intellect, but deep and knowing despite his loving demeanor. She loved those big green eyes, they were just so big and she didn’t understand how no one took the same interest in them as her. All of it, just sitting there beside her. Don’t even get her started on the soul that inhabited the beautiful man beside her. She never would stop spiraling then.

“What?” He asks softly, the sounds of Paul McCartney during some era fading in.

She blinks, hazily in admirance, “Nothing,” she replies.

“What?” He insists, laughing slightly, the lips she loves so much widening in excitement.

“Just missed you.”

Her voice is quiet but strong, serious. A blush creeps up his neck, taking hold of his features.

“Missed you too,” his left hand reaches across the console to take hold of her hand that resided on her thigh. He squeezes her hand softly and they both smile at each other again.

“Don’t worry, I can get my stuff upstairs. I don’t want you being out in the cold any longer than you have to. I’ll see you tonight, H!” She pushes her body across the console and places a kiss on his cheek before jumping out of the car. Harry makes a half smile, knowing he can’t change her mind. He waves to her behind the window as she travels into her building.

“See you.” He says to himself before driving back to his home to finish up preparing for tonight’s festivities. The party was going to be more intimate than the Christmas party at the restaurant. Tonight was just Harry’s family and closest friend - the band, Jeff and his family, Y/N, and a few others.

The whole night Harry and Y/N are within a foot of each other, if not on top of each other. He never leaves her side nor does she his. They are tethered to one another. The longest they’re apart is when Harry gets them refills of Champagne and Y/N journeys to the restroom. They laugh and catch up.

As the night goes on, Harry begins to whisper sweet nothings in her ear and she giggles and places her hand on his chest flirtily. Their interaction is a dance, bedroom eyes and low voices, lingering touches and suggestive lip bites.

When the countdown begins to grow closer, everyone refills their drinks and gathers in the center of Harry’s living room. They cheer and countdown to 2020. And of course, Y/N’s by Harry’s side as he begins the count. And when they get to ‘one’ and everyone’s saying “Happy New Year”, Harry and her are sharing a chaste peck to the lips that electrifies everything they had been saying to each other all night. She sighs into his mouth, but pulls away quickly, aware of their surroundings. No one particularly questions the kiss, either not paying attention or caring. Harry beams down at her and they enjoy the rest of the evening.

At around 1 am, the last of the guests stumble out of Harry’s homes and into waiting ubers and safe rides. Y/N lingers back, beginning to clean the discarded glassware and paper plates. Her and Harry are definitely tipsy, but they enjoy the cleaning work, making terrible jokes about New Year’s and commenting on what people wore tonight. When it’s relatively cleaned in the kitchen, Y/N wanders out to the living room and finds Harry reclined back on the couch.

“H,” She sticks out her foot and nudges him with her boot.

“C’mere,” he reaches out his hand to her, his coat discarded, leaving his arms bare with only a white tank top on.

She takes his hand hesitantly and is yanked on top of Harry in an instant. With a loud huff, she settles above him. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Shush,” his pointer finger goes over her lips, her eyes narrow at him, “Can you believe we’re seeing 2020?”

“Oh my god! I hate you!” She rolls her eyes at his pun and shakes herself from his hand around her waist. She stands up to walk away but he easily grasps her wrist and stops her, easily sitting himself up on the couch.

He looks at her and her annoyance, that wasn’t all too strong in the first place, dissipates. She sighs, “I should probably be heading home.”

“You should stay, it’s so late,” his hand rubbing over the skin on her wrist.

She bites her lip, contemplating the offer, he was right. “I’m really tired and we haven’t really talked, H.”

“But we-”

“Not about us. We’ve been skirting around it, flirting with each other all night, but we haven’t talked about what’s going on. I can’t stay if you expect something from me.”

“I don’t expect anything from you, Y/N. That’s not why I want you to say,” Harry says earnestly, realizing quickly what she’s saying. “I’ve never expected anything from you. An offer to stay is just an offer to stay.”

“Okay,” she finally smiles and sits down beside Harry.

“You can sleep in the guest bedroom, too. If that makes you more comfortable?”

“Oh...I don’t know if we have to take it that far. Plus, you’re like a personal heater and I get cold at night.”

Harry perks up, he had been feeling resigned that maybe she wasn't on the same page as him. He wanted to be with her all the time but also didn’t want to put any pressure on her. She just made him so happy.

“Great! Let’s get to bed then.” He pops up from the couch and brings her into his arms, “You know where all my clothes are, so you can just borrow whatever you want, and then I’m sure I have extra toothbrushes…”

She giggles into his side as she watches him ramble animatedly. Sometimes he was oh so bright, so joyful and carefree. A stark contrast from the quiet confidence he often exhibited for the public.

She woke up in the warm embrace of Harry. His whole bed smelled like him, vanilla mixed with spices of tobacco and sandalwood. It was delicious and she snuggled in deeper to the soft chest she laid against, breathing in his scent deeply.

They rested there for a long time. Harry makes his awakening known with a lingering kiss to her forehead. They both sigh in contentment, radiant in each other’s arms.

“What’s the plan today?” She ponders as Harry’s fingers trace patterns over her skin. He hums in thought.

“Wanna be with you…”

She laughs and looks up at him, “Me too, but we can’t lay around all day.”

“Well, we could.” Harry insists.

She laughs again and twists in his arms, settling so she’s facing him. She bites her lip as she thinks about something, scanning his face over and over.

“I’m gonna go home and get ready for the day. Let’s just explore the city and do some 2020 shopping. Who knows, maybe fashion’s changed since the last decade,” she grins.

Harry chuckles a little and pets at her hair, “I like the sound of that. And we can talk - about us.”

“Mmhmm.”

He tilts his head forward and meets her lips once again, savoring her taste. Each kiss makes him want more. She was good.

Harry lugs in the four heavy shopping bags into her flat, as she carries the single small bag from the chocolatier he had dragged them into. He presses her to the counter when he sets down the bags and begins to kiss her face all over. She giggles and places her hands on his shoulders, giving him a kiss to the lips before pulling away.

They had talked about what they wanted, what they saw in each other and how that fit into their work relationship and the rest of their lives. Harry would have to talk to Jeff, but more so as a by the way this is what I’m doing with my life, not an ask for permission. Y/N would continue as his stylist until the end of the tour cycle, but afterwards she’d go back to freelancing. They wanted to try to date and be as normal as possible. She told him how she didn’t love the fame or the celebrities. Sure she dealt with those things for work, but when they were off duty, she wanted to be regular. She wanted to go out on dates and make dinner on weekend nights. Harry had agreed, he wanted those things too and he understood her wish to keep work and their relationship separate. However, he’d made her concede to allowing kisses during work hours. She had laughed and said it was an easy term to agree to.

It was going to be a good thing. They were both giddy with excitement, the new year, and all the new things they had bought on their relationship high.

“Oh!” She pushed Harry further away from her and hurried into her room. He laughed and looked confusedly after her. “Wait there!” She called. Harry leaned against the back of her upholstered chair.

“Close your eyes!” She says before coming back into the room. Harry’s hands go over his eyes easily as he grins blindly in her direction.

“‘M waiting…”

“Open.”

Harry’s hands slip away and his green eyes blink open. In front of him stands Y/N holding up a hand knit brown sweater vest with horizontal red, cream and blue thin stripes along with the thicker brown stripes. Harry beams, reaching his hands out to take hold of it.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for later, but I found it at this vintage place while I was home and I couldn’t wait any longer to show it to you.”

“Darling, this is gorgeous. I love it! But you shouldn’t have...”

“I thought you could wear it for Lizzo’s concert. I know you said you liked the other sweater vest, but this one is so-”

“You spoil me, seriously.” He cuts her off and laughs before pulling her back into him. Their lips collide in a searing kiss, Harry’s excitement over the new garment making him eager to show her how much he really loved it.

A small sigh escapes her lips as Harry presses into her. His tongue pushing into her mouth in a way that turns the sigh into a moan.

“Let me show you just how much I love it,” He murmurs against her lips, casting the garment onto the back of the chair he had previously been leaning on.

She smiles, eyes fluttering open and meeting his with adoration swelling in their depths. Then she allows him to back their intertwined bodies into her room.

Some apartment in New York a few months later:

“I knew it!”

“Huh?” Aidy lifts her head from the skit she was working on to look at her friend and coworker.

“That stylist...for Harry Styles,” Heidi shifts, sitting up and turning her phone to face Aidy, “She was seen out with him, getting lunch in London and then making out on a street corner. I bet they were dating back in November when he was on the show!”

Aidy laughs, thinking back to her conversation with the stylist that night of Harry’s show. The girl had been so in love that night and Harry had been smitten all week, describing her in the best way, praising her every decision, yearning for her even. And now they were actually together...she was happy for them.

“I don’t know about that...but they were head over Gucci heels for each other that’s for sure.”

Heidi and her scroll through the pictures on social media of the singer and his girlfriend.

“They probably are the best dressed couple I have ever seen,” Heidi grumbles.

“Now that is definitely accurate.”

taglist: @meredithhuntt @sovereigndeadlyperfect @marauderswhisperer @toribentleyva @girlboss99 @harryssunflxwer @loverofaccents @stephaniemalvie @mk15x @beanholland @stfxlou @loliismutt @pinkisawesome101 @stilljosiegrossie @kikisparadise18 @clementimee

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harrys stylist right?#harry styles x y/n

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

In the Strangest Place (We Just Might Find Love) - Pt.1

Type: two-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3700

Summary: You’re hiding from your boss in a supply closet, minding your own business, when a stranger joins you unexpectedly.

This is not a beginning of a steamy story; given the reason you’re hanging out in the dark, even a make-out session is honestly the last thing you want to fantasize about right now.

But that doesn’t mean that the nice stranger cannot make your day much better.

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment, a bit of angst, attempt at humour, language

You were on the verge of screaming – or crying, you honestly weren't sure anymore. But you knew you were done. You had worked your fingers to a bone just to get here; to become a little bee in the most famous hive in Manhattan. Stark Industries. The Stark/Avengers Tower. The beacon of the New York skyline. The dream coming true.

Yeah, not so much.

You hadn't expected super-important assignments – after all, you were just an assistant to the head of one of too many departments – but God, you had not expected to be handling coffee so often. To be running ridiculous errands. Your degree from MIT should actually mean something here! If nothing else than that you were not just some pretty face and that you fucking didn’t deserve the treatment you were receiving.

And that was the root of trouble, really. You could handle making your way up, it would be tiring but not surprising, it was pretty much what you had assigned for.

But you had not assigned for the sexist comments, disgusting innuendo and for the grabby hands of your sleazy boss. Thomas Gregory was a fucking nightmare of a man and you swore that you were quitting if he called you a ‘Dollface’ or slapped your ass one more time.

And that was how you had got here, into this very moment; hiding in a dark supply closet like a creep with two cups of overpriced coffee in a cup holder and a piece of organic carob-nut muffin.

You weren't about to come out any time soon, because you simply knew your boss still would be a pig and give you yet another reason to hand in your notice and you had fucking wanted this job for so long, worked for it so hard and sacrificed too much that you just couldn't make yourself to quit no matter how much your skin cringed and your stomach rolled over every time Thomas Gregory touched you. It was so frustrating you wanted to scream.

Or cry, you still couldn't solve the dilemma. Maybe both.

You barely registered the hurried footsteps – and then the door was yanked open, you glimpsed a tall blond male figure and suddenly there was dark again. Except there was one more body in the very limited room of the closet, making you press your back onto the shelf.

Something rattled with your movement and the newcomer hissed a barely audible ‘Be quiet’ as two columns of muscles that were probably his arms framed your head leaning onto the very same shelf, so you could both fit in here.

The little order leaving his lips broke the last seal inside you. You were tired, frustrated and were receiving enough humiliation as it was, you did not need some random guy invading your hideout, barking orders.

“Look, mister, if you have any problem with me trying to make a little space for you in this tiny-ass closet, I recommend you to-”

“Shh!” he hushed you and you thought you had never heard someone whisper so urgently; at least it sounded less bossy than before. It did not mollify you though, because this guy actually had enough impudence to-

“Don't you dare to shush me-!”

A hand went to cover your mouth and you let out an exasperated mumble of curses, while his voice continued.

“Please, just— I'm sorry, please, don't make a sound, my friend is trying to set me up and-”

Your eyes went wide and he suddenly fell silent. Before you could question his methods of shutting you up, his exclaim or the pause, and ask him to be so kind to find another closet, another male voice sounded somewhere behind the door.

“Come on, Steeeve. Man, don't be such a prude. Lillian is a great chic, okay?”

The man – the friend, you assumed – seemed annoyed and you couldn't believe that Steve had not been kidding you. He was actually hiding for the very reason he had offered you. You nodded as you heard the stranger behind the door move and the hand covering your mouth hesitantly disappeared.

“It's just a lip piercing, don't be such a tight-ass. It can actually be quite fun, you wouldn't believe what a girl can do with such thing…”

“Gross,” you commented soundlessly and you could feel your companion’s eyes burning a hole into your head in silent agreement.

“Goddammit, Steve!”

The voice and the footsteps slowly disappeared in the distance and you… you were face to face with a stranger named Steve in a limited space of a dark supply closet, his breath tickling your scalp, his cologne very much assaulting your nose; at least it was a pleasant assault.

“I'm sorry for being so rude. And thank you,” his voice caressed your hairline gently and hearing his suddenly polite tone and evaluating this whole situation, you could barely hold back a giggle all of sudden.

“You're welcome, Steve. How long has this been going on?”

“Two days-” That didn't sound too bad, he could probably take a lot more- “-at this level. With Lillian. It was Emily before that and Angelina before that. In smaller scale, it's been happening for about four months,” he recited dutifully as if he was reporting a status to his boss and this time you couldn’t help it – you giggled.

When you could feel the wounded gaze he gave you, you obediently made a sympathetic noise.

“Aww, poor you, your friend supplying you with no doubt great relationship material…”

“That’s what he said! But I don't want a relationship material. I don't want any material, not even his… one-night stand material. What does that mean anyway? These are women he's talking about, not a material-”

You let out a tiny pleased sound at his exasperation, which shut him up. You wondered if it was your turn to speak – it was hard to tell, supply-closet conversations weren't exactly your area of expertise.

“Kudos for that thinking,” you noted after short silence and the darker shadow of his figure tilted his head. “Did you try to tell him that you weren't interested…? Of course you did, why am I asking, that was a stupid question…”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, I got a little… carried away. It just… it's like talking to a brick wall.”

You hummed in sympathy again and the room fell into silence once more.

It was ridiculous how much your mind started working over hundred percent, trying to come up with something appropriate to say. The best you could do was:

“Hey, you want a cup of overpriced organic coffee? I happen to have two.”

The needy noise that let his lips was downright pornographic. Or maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, the strange environment finally getting to you.

“I knew I smelled coffee here! I thought I went completely insane.”

You couldn't help but smile at that. Yeah, you knew the feeling all too well.

“Nope, your senses were not playing tricks on you. Help yourself. It should be around your left hand.” A rustling of a paper bag. “Oh. That's a carob-nut muffin – with carob instead of cocoa. You can have that too, I won't need that.”

“Alright, I gotta ask. Why are you hiding in a supply closet, with a muffin and two cups of expensive coffee nonetheless? And may I hand you one?”

“Such a gentleman. Thanks,” you murmured and accepted the cup. You weren't lying about not needing it – you wouldn't. Because you were about to quit; it was inevitable.

You sipped the warm liquid, its taste as bitter as the reason behind your actions.

“So?”

“I'm hiding from my boss.”

Your voice must have sounded terrible, because his own softened at the confession.

“And why is that?”

“Because if I bring him his coffee and muffin, he'll probably call me his good girl and— and slap my butt and-”

“I beg your pardon?” he growled, like honest to God growled, the strange sound warming your scalp.

And it was the righteous outrage in the sound he let out, the reaction that you needed, someone agreeing with you – a stranger, who wouldn’t feel obliged to do so just it was a duty of being a good friend to you – that made the levee break. Suddenly tears were streaming down your face, anger and humiliation, and your breath was hitching in embarrassing hiccups and the dark space felt so anonymous and safe at the same time that you didn't even care anymore.

“And if he does that I’ll have to– to quit, because I-I'm so fucking fed up with his dis-disgusting hands and si-sickening voice voicing his lizard thoughts a-and I ca-can't quit goddammit, I worked so fucking hard to-to get a job h-here and-”

You didn't realise your hands started trembling until the cup disappeared from them, placed back on the shelf, and a pair of much bigger and warmer hands gently enveloped yours, his body shifting just a little closer as he lost the support that had been keeping some distance between you.

“Hey, hey, shh, it's gonna be okay…” his voice washed over you soothingly, sounding almost at your ear.

Still, there was space between your bodies, a respectable distance – as respectable as possible in the limited space. It was as if he acknowledged it could make you uncomfortable – which probably wasn't exactly hard to figure out, given what you just told him.

“I'm sorry,” you sobbed and cleared your throat afterwards in attempt to compose yourself. “I didn't mean to load that on you, my problems are none of your concern-”

“Like hell they aren't. Sexual harassment on a workplace is everyone's concern, or it should be,” he grunted. His hands tightened their grip, not uncomfortably – reassuring. “This okay?”

You smiled through your tears. This Steve guy was really sweet to you. You almost forgot what it was like to be treated with respect.

“Y-yeah. Thank you for-- for asking. That was really nice.”

He huffed. “It should be a normal human decency. And I did grab you before that, sorry.”

“Something tells me you would let go if I said no more vehemently.”

“Of course I would.”

You gave him a watery smile he couldn't see and tried to calm your breathing completely. His thumb caressing your wrist helped. You wondered which department he was from; if his skills in comforting came with a job description or if he was a natural.

“Have you… have you tried to fill in a report?” he asked hesitantly, making your heart stop.

Oh yeah, you had. It had ended up in a shredder machine, because Thomas had spotted it. He had made you do it yourself, standing over you and watching, claiming the complaint had been baseless and it would pointless to hand it anyway, because he would explain the HR how it truly was. That you had made a move and he, the good father and husband he had been, politely turned you down, which turned you vengeful.

You whispered the story to Steve, your voice trembling, more tears escaping and you could immediately tell he believed you – because his grip grew steely strong, his teeth grinding.

“This is wrong. You should have never been forced to work for a man like him– objectifying you, touching you, threatening you, that's just--- you should talk to Tony,” he blurted out in the end and you frowned.

“Who's Tony?”

You had checked the whole HR department via their website when doing your research. You couldn't recall any Tony.

There was a short pause, broken by Steve's confused voice. “Stark.”

You blinked, wondering if Steve was joking. He didn't sound like he was joking, which was strange, because so far, he had seemed to be a smart and reasonable man.

“There's no way I'm scoring a meeting with Mr. Stark. And it's not like he’s dealing with things like that.”

“...Talk to Pepper then. I doubt she has bigger than zero tolerance for harassment,” he exclaimed confidently as if talking to Pepper Potts (this time you assumed whom he was talking about – did he call all of the big bosses their first name…?) was an option for a regular human being like you. Realizing that all over again though, that was tough.

“While I believe that’s her policy, it's not like I can just walk into her office.”

Steve seemed to consider that, while his thumb was still drawing patterns on your skin, almost subconsciously.

“I think you could. But if you're worried it might take a while and you’re scared to go back to your office now, let me walk you. I can explain him that every employee deserves to be treated with respect,” he offered finally, deadly serious, yet still sounding kind.

Your heart swelled. A guy you just met (in a supply closet, a good story to be narrated at parties, you supposed), suggested to help you out, no hesitation. God, wasn't he just too pure for this world?

“I… thank you, Steve. But… while you do have an impressive frame, I think it would only get worse. I think I'll just enjoy this extremely hipster coffee, which I'll later have to pay for no doubt and… and go face my boss to hand him my resignation. There are plenty jobs, right? I can as well serve coffee in a café,” you said with a sad smile, letting your hands slip from his comfortable hold.

“That's not right. Especially if you worked hard to– not to mention it's a matter of principle. You run away once and… running is a very hard habit to break,” he whispered, as if a secret, trying to reason with you.

You bit your lip when the truth of his words washed over you, along with the way he spoke; with such a strong believe in principles that should stand a standard. It… he made you forgot your own trouble for a second as you let yourself get lost in him. In the way he treated you, the protector's persona, yet not forced. He had suggested you to ‘let him come with you’, not even a note of command in his approach. This was not a man seeing an opportunity to be a hero when spotting the damsel in distress; this was a man who believed in what was right and wanted to fix things that were apparently broken. You wished there were more men like him, selfishly wanting one of them to be your boss.

“And men like these – they need to be put in line,” he added darkly, snapping you from your daydreaming of a better world. “Let me come with you. I'll—I’ll help you fill in the forms, walk you to HR. You don't have to deal with this alone.”

For all the comfort the dark had offered you so far, you wished for a little bit more light now, enough to see his face, his eyes. You knew they would be burning with honesty, you were sure of it, maybe a little rage aimed at a man who dared to treat another human being the way he did.

The offer was so tempting. But just imagining the security escorting Steve from the building for wanting to help you was enough to put out the fiery need to accept. It was ridiculous to care so much about his well-being after what could be minutes of knowing him, but no one could call you out on it. And if they did, you could always play it cool with ‘matter of principles’; good people only deserved good things.

You carefully reached out, hoping to find his hand again. Your heart skipped a beat when you brushed his thigh instead, but at least his hand was right next to it. He released a surprised breath when you took it into yours, way smaller one. You bit your lip when leaning in a little, blindly trying to meet his gaze.

“You’re a good man, Steve. I’m sorry your friend is giving you a hard time, you don't deserve that – even though I'm sure he means well. If you ever want to get him off your back...” you wavered at the ridiculous idea, but hey, why the hell not, he had offered to help you out first, “you can say you're seeing someone. Give him my card. I'll confirm we're together – he seems like a kind of a guy who would check.”

Shocked breathless laugh erupted from his chest and you assumed you hit the nail on the head. You fished out one of your business cards, handing it to him and releasing his hand then.

It was time to leave and face your fate, but Steve didn't make any attempt at moving out of the closet.

In fact, he seemed to examine the card for a while and then he quietly read out your name. You gasped in surprise. How the hell could he see anything? You could barely make out his silhouette!

“How-”

“I'm used to working in dark spaces,” he muttered absently. “Would you really do that?”

Slightly taken aback he was considering your offer, you nodded, only to realize he couldn't see it--- actually, he probably could.

“I would. Hell, I think I could handle one uncomfortable dinner with your friend vetting me,” you added, slightly amused at the idea. When you could hear his shocked exhale and wanted to take it back. “I didn't mean to-”

“Let me come with you to your office,” he repeated like a broken record and you frowned at the sudden change of topic.

“What-”

“It could throw your boss off your back for long enough for you to deal with the complaint. If you would be comfortable enough to play my girlfriend for a dinner time, why not now?”

Your eyes went wide and you almost choked on air.

“I-what? I told you it would probably only make it worse-”

“It will work.”

“How can you be so-”

The door yanked open and your eyes were hit by an unpleasantly sharp light, making you squint.

“Holy-” a ridiculously familiar voice you couldn’t place breathed out. “Wilson! I found him! You’ve gotta see this!”

You wanted to see the owner of the voice, but your view was completely blocked by the broad chest of your companion.

So you at least raised your head to meet Steve face to face so to speak. You couldn’t see much, your eyes still adjusting; with the light shining from behind him, playing a mysterious game with his blond locks, framing his impressive figure, he looked like a freaking angel, beautiful and righteous, bringing justice, yet wrapped in an aura of peace and serenity. You barely kept your jaw from falling on the floor.

You kept staring, focusing on his face, and slowly started realizing that his features too, were familiar. Mortification was creeping up your back as the puzzle pieces started falling into place, creating a horrifying picture, making you wish for the Earth to swallow you.

The voice from behind Steve’s back resolved the last doubts you had about your temporary mysterious roommate.

“Wouldn’t peg you as a get-freaky-in-a-closet kind of guy, Capsicle.”

You wanted to immediately protest that you had definitely not been getting freaky in the closet, but your brain was still frozen because of the big revelation – that you had just been comforted, hell, that you had just offered to be a fake date to Captain America.

You simply stared at him, unbeing able to hold your jaw from falling anymore. Because– because-- oh god.

Now it made perfect sense that he thought Thomas Gregory would be intimidated… by the idea of harassing Captain America’s girlfriend. You couldn’t really blame Steve for being sure it would work. Also, it kinda explained why he called Mr. Stark or Ms. Potts their first names – they were on the first name basis.

Which really was the least relevant thing right now.

A bashful smile appeared on Steve’s lips, a little guilty perhaps, and you just… giggled at the absurdity. You couldn’t help it. You had just spent minutes in a supply closet with Steve Rogers without having a single clue about it and while you didn’t do anything heated as someone would assume, it was one of the most amazing minutes of your life.

You must have looked like an idiot or something, because he chuckled too, completely ignoring another male voice growing in volume as the newcomer approached.

“Holy hell, man! I can’t believe what I’m seeing!”

At those words, Steve tentatively took your hand with an encouraging smile and led you out to the hall. You were met with two pairs of curious eyes examining you from head to toe. You lowered your gaze, now fully aware of the fact they belonged to Tony Stark – the Iron Man – and Samuel Wilson – the Falcon.

Well. Now the ‘party story’ finally got the right juice.

“Then don’t, Sam, because it’s not what it looks like,” Steve replied to his match-maker friend and took a deep breath, squeezing your hand tighter. “Tony, this woman would like to report harassment on her workplace.”

Your head snapped to Steve’s face with panicked gaze. What the hell was he doing?!

Tony Stark made a noise of disapproval.

“Couldn’t you try harder so she wouldn’t complain about you?”

“Tony,” Steve addressed him, his voice solemn just like his expression, which clearly surprised the billionaire. “I’m serious. It’s not about me. Her boss is the reason why she was hiding here.”

Without commenting any further, Steve handed him your business card and Mr. Stark hummed. You weren’t brave enough to look up. Was he going to wave it off? Was he going to fire you?

He said your name, making you gulp in fright. You had to look up now and you really didn’t wanna, too afraid of what you’d see. You were shocked to meet with a searching gaze, but not a mean one.

“It is true? Is your boss giving you trouble? Making sexist comments? Worse?”

You felt tears in your eyes, utterly taken aback by his sensitive tone, the inviting light in his eyes. It was too much to bear and you wanted to escape the kind gaze; and he wouldn’t let you. You only managed to nod when you felt Steve’s thumb caressing the back of your hand.

Mr. Stark sighed, adding a dark ‘goddammit’, and returned Steve the business card.

“Alright, kids. Let’s have a trip.”

And you just stared.

…what?

Part 2

I know, I know, Steve is a little bit of Knight-In-Shining-Armour here, but it made sense to me O:-)

Happy weekend!

Thank you for reading!

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfic #captain america fanfiction #civilian reader #in the strangest place we just might find love #anika ann

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not-bcring · 2 years

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"Happy Birthday, Kokichi! I hope you'll have a nice day today. If it’s okay, I actually wanted to give you some gifts! Ah, they’re in my bag right here, one moment... “ Taking off his bookbag, Shuichi takes out a dessert box, along with a gift box, and sets them down on the table in front of Kokichi. “Here you go... ”

Inside the dessert box was a purple velvet cake slice, topped with blueberries and whipped cream, with buttercream frosting. "I ah, made you a purple velvet cake. I-I hope you’ll like it!”

And then in the gift box, consisted of a pair of dice block bracelets. One was white, while the other was black. “I saw these in a store and thought you might like them, so I wanted to get them for you! Ahh I wasn’t sure what color to get, so I just went with both, heh heh... but yes um, hope these gifts are okay... !” (Happy Birthday, Koki~! 🎂🎲)

- ✩ 「 @ahogedetective 」 ✩

「 ☆ 」 One would think that someone like Kokichi would make a bigger deal out of his birthday. With how much attention he seeks from others on a daily basis— soaking it in, both good and bad, like a sponge —it’s odd that he’d be so quiet about today. Not that it’s entirely unknown to others at school, but the little leader seems almost reserved upon it. For Kokichi, anyway. His jokes and pranks not holding quite as much lighthearted impulsivity. As if he’s meeting a quota to avoid suspicion, going through the motions but finding not nearly as much joy in his mischief as usual. Simply waiting for the day to be done so he can return to normalcy.

However, hearing Shuichi’s voice calling out his well-wishes is decidedly NOT normal. At least, not in Kokichi’s opinion. Unable to understand why the detective, of all people, would be so adamant on making the trickster’s day better. They are natural enemies, after all. One of the reasons why Kokichi likes Shuichi so much. Predator and prey, destined to play on opposites side until one claims a final victory... or grows tired of the never-ending dance. Purposely confused expression doesn’t give away Kokichi’s inner ponderings, the little liar donning a mimicry of the curiosity he actually feels. Even when showing the truth, there never fails to be a careful filter over it. To ensure that he doesn’t reveal more than he means to.

Cocking his head, big eyes blink quizzically as the boxes are freed from the confines of Shuichi’s bag. Allowing his lips to form a smile, prideful as he sticks out his chest with the self-assurance of someone who HADN’T been waiting for the day to be over, Kokichi chipperly says, ❝ Nee-heehee! Leave it to the Detective to be smart enough to realize the importance of today! These offerings should do nicely— ❞ Opening the dessert box as he boasts, Kokichi can’t hide the surprised widening of his eyes at the sight. ❝ It’s so... pretty. ❞ He breathes, momentarily forgetting about his audience as he takes in the sight.

❝ You... actually made this for me? ❞ He murmurs, every detail suddenly seeming more purposeful. Trying to find the meaning behind each choice, knowing that he’s overthinking it. As he overthinks EVERYTHING. Yet, also hoping that he’s not. For reasons he refuses to delve into, the gesture bringing a troublesome hope into his chest that he knows to shy away from.

One might think it’s a silly reaction over a slice of cake... but those people have likely been given far more presents than Kokichi has in his life. Let alone one that he hadn’t known actually existed. It’s not like he’s eaten a lot of PURPLE velvet cake before. Plus, those blueberries look like they’re nice and juicy. Perfect for literally popping in his mouth. Abruptly realizing that he’ s showing far too much appreciation for a simple act of kindness treat, he hastily jokes with a glance at Shuichi, ❝ It’s not poisoned, is it? Because that’d be a pretty dirty trick... ❞ Shrugging nonchalantly as he opens the next gift, Kokichi continues his distracting tirade, ❝ I’d have to respect it, but it’d still be annoying to deal with a poisoning today. ❞

With an overdramatic gasp of excitement at the next sight, figuring that overly-enthusiastic is less damning that the gentle admiration of before— yet both are still positive reactions, to avoid making Shuichi feel like he’s not appreciated —he pulls out the dice bracelets and turns them over in his palm. ❝ Oh, Shumai- you shouldn’t have~ ❞ He playfully quips, fluttering his lashes as if he were just gifted a pair of priceless diamond bracelets. Snickering at his own joke, Kokichi then studies the blocks more earnestly, running a nimble finger across the smooth surface. ❝ Yes, I think this will suit me just fine. ❞ Not entirely talking about the bracelets, a pointed look is aimed up at the detective. A smirk on his face, Kokichi internally laughing about an inside joke that only he’s privy to, Kokichi grabs onto Shuichi’s left wrist without warning.

Slipping on the white bracelet, the color stark against his black sleeve, Kokichi does the same with the black upon his own. Dice standing out against his white clothes, Kokichi proudly holds his wrist beside Shuichi’s. ❝ There! Now whenever you look at your wrist... you’ll have no choice but to think of me. ❞ It’s said triumphantly, as if Shuichi has wandered into some grand trap. From the pleased beam of Kokichi’s smile, it’s not that hard to believe... Lightly poking Shuichi’s band with his finger, he teases with a cheshire grin, ❝ And no taking it off! ‘Cause if you do, I’ll have no choice but to kill you... ❞ A beat of silence before he laughs, ❝ Don’t worry! That’s a lie! ❞

... ❝ Or is it? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#(( Sorry this took so long fdgjkndjkgd - time is a Lie and birthdays are for Always lol ))#not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ; ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴘᴀɪʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Kokichi IC 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟ; ᴄ’ᴍᴏɴ ɴᴏᴡ! ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Kokichi 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ 2.0 ❞ ¦ 「 Shuichi 」#ahogedetective #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴏʙᴛᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ꜰʀᴀɢᴍᴇɴᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」#(( also he chose the left wrist because of that superstition about the vein on the left hand leading directly to the heart... totally not-#-force shipping tho (but im open if you are interested lmao) - whether it's romantic or platonic; Kokichi just has Many Feelings when it-#-comes to how his 'destiny' is-#-intertwined with 'Shumai' and i wheeze ))#(( he basically went 'yep. i like this guy. he's Stuck with me now.' and im so sorry Shuichi XD ))

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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Stalker X Stalker, Part 10

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo

Marinette’s collection of vigilantes in her house was still growing, somehow. You’d think it would stop with just the ones that consistently lived in Gotham, but no.

Nightwing started dropping by whenever he was in town to try and teach her escrima. She wasn’t good with them because she wasn’t used to fighting people up close, but she didn’t really think that that was the reason why they were doing it.

Still, it was fun…

(Except for that one time they’d been heading back to her house and she dropped her phone down the drain and had to beg the rat-person -- she was pretty sure Nightwing had called them Ratcatcher? -- for help. It was very traumatizing. He’d given her a new phone but she was never going to recover emotionally from that day.)

And then, a few days before Thanksgiving, Flamebird had made an appearance.

The reason why was less fun, though.

She’d opened her blinds and stared at him for a few moments. He was leaning against her fire escape, hand pressed to his stomach.

“Hey, Robin, does Flamebird usually do the Napoleon pose?”

“The…? Oh, no, he does not.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I thought so.” She swung her window open. “Hi. Nice to meet you. What happened?”

“Got stabbed.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Okay, yeah, obviously, want to elaborate?”

“Got stabbed in the stomach,” he said, after a second’s thought.

So, no, then. She shrugged to herself and let him come inside.

“Right, Robin, go get the medkit out from under my sink,” she said, pulling a hairband from her wrist and tying her hair back.

Flamebird frowned. “Can’t you just undo everything with your magic?”

“Not magic,” supplied Tikki, popping her head out of Marinette’s pocket.

“FUCK,” yelped Flamebird.

Damian made the quiet clicking sound he made whenever he was about to say something rude but Marinette cut him off with a glare and pointed him towards the bathroom. Damian grumbled a little under his breath but obeyed for fear of being thrown out.

She turned back to Flamebird. “Also, that’s not how my ‘magic’ works. If I’m not involved in a fight…” She made a ‘poof’ motion with her hands. “No miracle cure.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Man, if I’d known that I would’ve just dealt with this myself.”

“Well, it is too late for that,” said Damian, who had come back out with a medkit. “Now, sit down, we will tend to your wound.”

And they did.

(Or, rather, Marinette did. It didn’t matter if she knew, logically, that he already knew how wounds looked and how to treat them, she just didn’t feel comfortable making him help. She sent him off to play with the cat and worked on dressing it. She’d made a mistake here by doing the normal routine while stitching someone up: asking about things they liked to distract them. He said he was an ‘avid reader’, she’d laughed and said that she probably wouldn’t know any of the books he mentioned because she hardly ever read in English, and now she was apparently in a book club. That was on her, she supposed, but it was still a little irritating.)

And that was all the vigilantes. They all came over from time to time. Sometimes they’d see each other and give each other awkward smiles or actively ignore each other, but it became a constant part of her life.

But it all came to a head one seemingly regular day.

She had been walking up the stairs to her apartment with Tim, ten bags of groceries loaded onto her arms and five on his (he was to open the door), and had nearly bumped into him when he stopped suddenly.

“Cass?” He asked, confused.

She raised her eyebrows just slightly. She’d thought everyone knew about each other but, now that she thought about it, because of the scheduling Tim wouldn’t really be around when everyone else came by.

He took Cass’s arrival in stride, though, fishing his key out of his pocket and pushing the door open.

He did not take in stride the fact that Duke, Damian, and Nightwing were all inside her house already. Duke was sitting on her counter, wrapped in a blanket as he scrolled through his phone. Damian was playing with Vanelope. Nightwing was doing stretches on her floor.

“Hey, look, more people that don’t live here,” Marinette said with only a hint of bitterness.

Nightwing glanced up. “You’re out of chips.”

“Already --?!” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Fine. Fine. I got more, anyways.”

Tim snapped out of it. He closed and locked the door quickly before sending Marinette a pout. “Alright, I can get you cheating on me with Cass, but come on,” he half joked.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “If one of the people I’m apparently cheating with is a five-year-old --.”

“TWELVE.”

“-- then I think you have more things to worry about than my serial adultery, darling.”

“... guess that’s true.”

“Also, I only buy groceries with you, so you’re clearly my favorite concubine.”

Duke grinned. “Actually --.”

“Except for that one time I asked Signal to go find ricotta because I’d forgotten it,” she conceded. “I guess he's my second favorite.”

Cass pouted and raised her hand.

“She makes a good case for herself. You’ve both been demoted,” she joked.

Tim was still pouting. Probably has something to do with going from favorite to second favorite. Who knows.

She rolled her eyes. She had bigger problems. Like her food. There were frozens and she was not going to lose her food to something as stupid and useless as the air. She waved him along as much as she could with the bags digging into her arms and started putting things away.

She tipped her head back after a second to squint at everyone. They were awkwardly staring at each other, for some reason… oh, right, they technically didn’t know each other.

“Uh, introductions, I guess. Signal, Robin, and Nightwing, meet my friends. Tim, Cass, meet my annoyances.”

Tim perked up a little at being called a friend rather than an annoyance. Problem solved. Kind of.

He set down his bags and leaned close to her ear. “So, they don’t know you know?”

“Duke does,” she mumbled back. “I’m not going to tell them about it, though, I want to see how long it takes them to notice.”

He snickered. “I can get behind that.”

“Good. You didn’t have a choice in the matter,” she joked, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose.

She could hear Cass groan a little at the obvious affection and both Duke and Damian cringed. She fought the urge to laugh. It was just a little kiss on the nose, they didn’t have to act like it was scandalous or gross.

But, apparently, it was gross enough for Damian to grab her arm to try and pull her attention away from Tim (and physically pull her away from him, she noted, as she was forced to take a half-step back from him).

“Did you get more of my gummy bears?”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you ask for them? Did you tell me you were out?”

He looked a little put out and she felt bad enough to give up the act quickly:

“Yes, kid, I got you your weird vegan gummy bears.”

He beamed and started sifting through her bags.

She smiled fondly and ruffled his hair, ignoring the knife that was sent her way for the action with practiced ease, then started putting things away.

Everyone except Damian made their way over to help. There were no ulterior motives, they insisted, even as she watched Nightwing slip a bag of chips into Damian’s hoodie for safekeeping and Duke pocket an apple.

At least Cass and Tim were reasonably well-behaved, she thought right before she watched him split an orange with her.

Tim squinted at the three people below him.

Jon had come to visit because a) the no metas in Gotham rule had more or less stopped being enforced due to constant complaints from the Justice League, b) Damian needed friends his age, and c) it was Christmas and Jon was so sure that this year was going to be the year that Damian finally understood the holiday.

And, because Jon had come to visit, so had Conner. The worst part of being an older brother that Tim understood all too well.

But, now, he looked down at the three people gathered at the bottom of the stairs.

They were apparently competing to see who could be the stupidest. Steph was standing on a banister, Marinette was trying to sit on a vertical bo staff, and Conner was doing a handstand on both of their heads. It was a little shaky, what with Steph’s barely restrained laughter and the fact that bos are not meant to be balanced on and Conner trying to do tricks, but they were clearly having fun.

Tim crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the entrance to the cave. Did he have a type?

Their comms crackled to life and all three went stock-still, grins wiped from their faces briefly as they listened to see what had happened.

“I am requesting the night off to have an outing with Superboy.”

Bruce gave the grunt that meant ‘fine’.

The three relaxed now that they knew that everything was okay, quickly going back to their game. Marinette had added a surfboard. Steph was struggling with an exercise ball. Conner was slowly taking off fingers.

Tim sighed to himself. Yep. Dumbasses who can only be serious for truly important things -- and, even then, only for a few seconds at a time. That was his type. Someone, please, save him.

It had been a while since Marinette had gone out on her own (with the intention of staying alone, leaving for patrols didn’t count). Really, she normally wouldn’t, but she needed to pick up a piece of fabric she’d forgotten to get the day before and it wasn’t even a meter’s worth. She didn’t need help for that.

Besides, going by herself was much quicker. She was able to go by rooftop as Ladybug.

Of course, going as Ladybug had a risk to it that she didn’t realize until it was too late: responsibilities.

She groaned to herself as she made to jump to the next roof and her eyes landed on a person getting mugged in the alleyway below her.

She looked down at the bag with her fabric inside it and wondered if it was even worth leaving it there while she got rid of the attacker. Most of the time the people mugging people in Gotham were using fake guns. Even if they weren’t, muggings were common enough that most people had little on them and were only slightly annoyed when people tried to rob them. The person below was no exception, it seemed. They scoffed when the gunman poked their back.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” they said irritably.

Wait, shit, she knew that voice.

She squinted down into the darkness and, yep, she would recognize that almost unhealthily pale skin anywhere.

She dropped down into the alley between them and, to her slight surprise, it turned out the gun actually did have bullets in it. A shot rang out. She fell back a step, cradling her shoulder.

The gunman’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to shoot her. It had probably just been a split second reaction.

Unfortunately for him, getting shot really fucking hurts and she was going to take it out on him. Especially since he’d been trying to mug one of her friends. She glanced back at Tim, who was shaking and a little pale, and grit her teeth. Yeah, this guy was fucked.

Eventually, though, the pain in her shoulder, worsened by all the movement, got too unbearable and she rolled off of the mugger. She tied the man’s hands and feet behind his back with her yoyo and, after calling Miraculous Ladybug, called it a day. She’d get her yoyo back later.

For now, she pressed a hand to her ear. “Hey, Signal, I’ve got one for you.”

“You’re joining me for daytime patrols now?” He asked, his voice somehow brighter than the powers he had.

“Nah, just happened to come across…” She considered embarrassing Tim but decided against it when she saw her friend’s face. “... someone getting mugged while out today.”

He huffed a little but she ignored it in favor of relaying the address.

The perpetrator to be taken care of, she turned to the victim. She didn’t know whether the rules applied to people you knew, but she figured she might as well go through with the normal procedure. Tim liked procedure, it might help him.

So, step one: connect with the victim. She unzipped her hoodie and smiled brightly, making sure her eyes crinkled behind her mask.

Step two: check to make sure they aren’t going into shock.

Normally, she was able to skip this step. The miracle cure got rid of it if they had gone into it before the attack… but his eyes were somehow both fixed intensely on her like he was scared she’d disappear if he chanced a look away and extremely vacant.

She took slow, careful steps towards him, hand out to check his pulse.

Once she was close enough, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. Marinette didn’t quite know what to do. The part of her brain still doing the normal procedure told her to hug back because this was a scared victim that wanted comfort, but the other part was tempted to push him off to check for a concussion… even though, logically, he shouldn’t have one because she had cast Miraculous Ladybug so her arm wouldn’t have a bullet in it anymore --.

Oh. She was stupid.

He’d watched his friend get shot and now he was freaking out. Like people are supposed to do.

She hugged him back, bringing a hand up to run through his hair.

“Would you like me to take you home?” She asked.

“My… my friend lives near here,” said Tim quietly, mindful of the fact that the mugger was still within earshot.

She nodded. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

He bit his lip so hard that she worried he’d break the skin and nodded.

She took him home and, with only a brief stop to keep Vanelope from escaping, set him down on the couch. She kept a hand touching him at all times as she gathered the blankets and pillows strewn about by all the visits the bats made. For once, she was glad she never really had time to clean, she didn’t want to let go of him when he was clearly so concerned about her.

Less than five minutes later she’d wrapped them both up as tightly as she could with as many blankets as she could reach. He rested his head against her shoulder, arms loosely draped around her under the blankets. Vanelope settled on their laps and started to purr; she made a mental note to give her a bunch of treats later.

But, for now…

She cupped his cheeks in her hands and waited patiently as he struggled to pull himself together enough to actually be present.

“Darling, I said I wouldn’t go anywhere. I’m not breaking that promise. Okay?”

He nodded slightly, finally releasing his lip to speak: “Okay.”

She pressed a kiss to his nose. A half smile made its way across his face.

“Now, how do you feel about Big Fish?”

He squeezed her a little tighter. “The circus scene is cute.”

She nodded her agreement. “I like the daffodil scene better, personally, but it is pretty cute.”

She turned the movie on.

Tim was sure he was overreacting. Of course he was. She hadn’t died, she wasn’t even hurt any more. It clearly didn’t bother her, he had ‘accidentally’ chosen that shoulder to rest his head on and she hadn’t so much as winced when he had. No, the only worry she had was about him.

So, he should be fine.

But he wasn’t.

She’d been shot and, for a second, he’d feared it would be another Darla situation. And he couldn’t deal with another Darla situation. He couldn’t. He had to believe that he was better than that high school Tim that had let all his friends die. Because if he wasn’t better than that meant he couldn’t have friends and he couldn’t deal with that either.

He didn’t want to be alone again.

No, he wouldn’t let that happen. He could think of a plan, surely. He was a planner, he found problems and he dealt with them. That had been his coping mechanism pretty much since birth and (if you ignore all the workaholic tendencies, independence issues, and General Trauma) it was working out pretty well for him. Can’t be sad if there’s work to do, after all.

Yeah. Work. He was good at work.

He bit his lip.

Alright, so the problem stemmed from his fear of being alone… which wasn’t going to be fixed anytime soon. Good coping mechanisms? In this family? Please. Next.

Alright, so the problem stemmed from his fear of her getting hurt.

Simple solution! Don’t let her get hurt!

… not as simple a solution as it sounded on paper.

She wasn’t going to stop vigilantism anytime soon. He wouldn’t make her, and she wasn’t going to do it on her own accord. Even if she decided to at some point Tim didn’t have much hope for it. Every person in the family had tried that already, it never worked. They’d say that it would be fine, that they were going to stop for their mental health or even just permanently end it… but family was family and how could someone sit back and watch family get hurt when they could do something about it?

So, that wasn’t going to happen. What other answers were there?

Well, he supposed that she had left on her own and that was the main problem. If she hadn’t left on her own then he wouldn’t have followed after her in secret and he wouldn’t have gotten attacked in the first place.

But he couldn’t be around much more without it being weird unless he…

He couldn’t…

Could he?

He figured it was worth a shot. And he should ask now. If she said no he wouldn’t have to worry about her thinking him weird, she’d just assume it was a request made while in the middle of shock and forget about it.

He hesitantly let go of his lip.

“Hey, Bean?”

She stopped pretending to watch Big Fish for the sake of giving him privacy. “Yeah?”

“Remember when… I…” He bit his lip, trying to think of a better way to phrase it, but he couldn’t. There really was no casual way to ask. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Can I, maybe, move in with you?”

She stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before quickly shaking her head.

He must have looked pretty put out, because she rushed to explain herself:

"You’re under emotional duress, darling, it wouldn’t be right to say yes.”

He nodded his understanding and it was silent for a bit before he eventually said: “But, if I asked tomorrow… would you say yes?”

She looked at him for a while, her face unreadable, before she gave him a hesitant smile.

“Well, I already said that you basically lived here. I suppose there wouldn’t be anything wrong with making it official.”

#stalker x stalker #timari #timmari #maribat #timinette #shutterbug #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake

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veryreallyfuckinbad · 3 years

Text

FIRE AND MOSS // Daryl Dixon X Reader// CHAPTER 4

TW: strong language

You tried your best to fall asleep, you were exhausted. Sleep didn’t come easy; especially not after being on your own for as long as you were. Any shut eye was interrupted by the smallest noise- leaves rustling, water dripping from trees, the gentle flapping of a bird’s wings. Every single noise made you jolt up, ready to pounce on anything that tried to come close to you. You were so used to being alone, with no backup, nobody to look out for you, nobody to care for you that spending the night at a safe place felt strange.

You rolled to your side with a heavy sigh. Your eyes hurt and you were sure you had some horrifying eyebags, too. The sleeping bag felt a little too soft, unlike the hard surface of your tent that you’ve grown so accustomed to, you haven’t laid in a sleeping bag since ‘the shit hit the fan’, as you called it. It seemed more appropriate than calling it ‘the apocalypse’, maybe because you never imagined the apocalypse to be so goddamn ugly, bloody and smelly.

You decided to sit up, knowing that you won’t fall asleep anytime soon. You knew that Jake was outside, but you didn’t know exactly what he was doing. You guessed he was running around camp or went to the forest to hang out- it was his first home, after all. He always came back to you by morning though, so you never worried. You suddenly heard the crackling of a fire and poked your head out your tent- it was Daryl. As soon as your head peeked out of the entrance of your tent, you felt Jake brush his snout against your cheek. He couldn’t sleep either, but didn’t leave to run around. He sat in front of your tent like a guardian, watching Daryl’s every move. You chuckled quietly, trying not to alert the man by the fire of your presence just yet. You studied him- his back was facing you, the wings on his leather vest were clearly visible. He was much bigger than you were- in every sense of the word. Taller, broader, heavier; in other words he was deadly to you, physically speaking. The man was like a puzzle, you couldn’t figure him out. He was watching you for God knows how long and you never even noticed, left you a gift, convinced Rick to take you in, yet he never spoke to you unless you were the one to engage conversation. He seemed rough around the edges but had a strange tenderness to him, and from what you’ve heard from the group, you were the only one to see it.

Deciding to stand up, you stretched a little and made your way over to him and decided to speak first, as not to startle him. “Hey”

His head whipped around to look at you and simply nodded in response, his dark hair falling over his icy eyes. He stared at you, waiting for you to say something else.

“Mind if I join? I can’t sleep” you kneeled next to Jake and gave the foxes’ head a small pat, awaiting Daryl’s response. He looked into your eyes but quickly shifted his gaze on something else and hummed in response. You smiled and took a seat on the opposite side of the small campfire, deciding it’s best to let him have his space. A few minutes of silence passed, you were sure Daryl didn’t mind it but sitting across from him and staring at the fire, occasionally looking up at him felt a bit uncomfortable to you. You cleared your throat and noticed his gaze shift from the fire to you.

“Not to seem ungrateful or anything” you began with a nervous chuckle, “but why did you help me out? Not just in the forest, yesterday too. You helped convince Rick to let me stay.” You grabbed a stick and poked the fire causing embers to fly up into the dark sky. Both you and Daryl took notice of Jake jumping up and trying to catch one in his mouth before it disappeared. Daryl let out a small snort that was gone before you could take it in- it was a completely new sound.

“Didn’t want him to go” he motioned to the fox with a tiny smirk, causing you to giggle. He cleared his throat and continued, which surprised you- this was your first real conversation, even if it was just about Jake. “He do any tricks?”

“Yeah, a couple actually. He can bite your face off if you keep treating him like a dog,” you gave him a playful smile, he returned the favor and mumbled something along the lines of ‘lil’ bastard’ and you went on “or my personal favorite. You got an empty can?” He looked at you with confusion, raising his eyebrows but didn’t say anything as he picked up an empty can of beans from the grass behind the log he was sitting on and threw it to you. You caught it and placed it on the damp grass near your foot, in front of Jake. He instantly put his snout inside, getting stuck.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: Mother Nature’s perfect killing machine” you announced in between chuckles and heard Daryl snort again. He smiled and shook his head while you took the can off Jake’s face. “And before you ask, I have no idea why he does that” you added while ruffling his fur lovingly. Before long, silence fell between you once again, but it was more comfortable this time. You didn’t expect any more conversation from the man- you were surprised with how much you got already, anyway. He looked at you, his face illuminated by the warm glow of the flames. Daryl’s expression was unreadable, it frustrated you that you couldn’t figure out what was going on in his head. He leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees and spoke up.

“Who ‘ere you with before us?” his low voice now sounded more gravelly than usual, he didn’t look at you. Your breath caught in your throat- you have never spoken to anyone about your previous group. Just now, you realized how much you missed them. If it weren’t for Jake and the others, you wouldn’t be where you were right now. They were the ones who taught you to survive, the ones who took you in when all seemed hopeless, they were family. They were family and when you were attacked, you didn’t even fight, you just ran. You realized your eyes were tearing up and looked at the man with nothing but shame, guilt and despair. He couldn’t see you like this, you didn’t want him to pity you or look at you differently, so you stood up. His eyes followed you, he shook his head gently to get the hair out of his face. He glanced at you apologetically, thinking he must’ve done or said something wrong. He didn’t realize you weren’t ready to open up yet.

“Alright” you chuckled sadly, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject, “It’s late, you’d better go to sleep. Jake and I will take watch”

Daryl gently shook his head and eyed you, the pressure of his gaze being much for you in that moment. You turned your back to him and pretended to look up at the star-filled sky. In reality, you tried to hold back the tears forming in your eyes. You didn’t realize that opening up would be so difficult. Deciding its best to hide from the man for the time being, you stepped into your tent. Daryl saw you fumble and shuffle inside, he couldn’t believe that you actually complied. His attention turned back to the fire, he picked up a stick from the ground and began poking the burning wood with it before his head shot up when he heard you step out of the tent with something under your arm- it was too dark to make out what it was. You stepped towards Daryl and sat beside him, your eyes now red and puffy but dry. Wordlessly, you placed the item you were holding in his lap- your sleeping bag. Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and gently touched the soft makeshift mattress with his fingers.

“Can’t sleep on it, it’s too soft for me” you looked at him, hoping he would understand. You saw something change in his eyes when the words left your mouth, like the light he had while joking with you earlier died out completely. Your mouth turned into a thin line, trying your best to give him a smile but you were sure it came out more like a sad-puppy-look than a friendly grin. Enough was enough, you were just making him pity you more. You were an enigma to him- like a puzzle piece from a completely different box. Despite going through the unimaginable, things that you couldn’t even share with him, you never failed to give him that damn smile. The smile that made him wonder whether rescuing you was a good idea- you were dangerous. Not literally, Daryl knew you couldn’t and wouldn’t hurt him. The way you made him feel was dangerous but most of all, it was completely new and utterly confusing. You were like an elusive animal; afraid only when you absolutely needed to be, defensive yet so trusting, so warm and it frustrated him. He could usually read people like open books, but you were the only exception.

You stood up and didn’t miss the way Daryl’s eyes flickering between your face and the sleeping bag in his lap. Jake followed you to the tent, but you stilled before you entered.

“Goodnight, Daryl”

You woke up to Jake’s squeaks and growls coming from outside your tent, growling as you sat up and stretched. Your eyes landed on a small roll right outside of your tent- your sleeping bag. A heavy sigh left your mouth, but you couldn’t even pretend to be mad.

“Stubborn asshole”, you didn’t even notice the smile forming on your face while you cursed Daryl out. You crouched, trying to get out of the tent and almost falling over in the process. The damn thing was small. Once you managed to get out, Jake greeted you, jumping up and standing on his hind legs, his front paws resting on your stomach. You leaned down to press him into yourself gently. “Good morning to you, too. C’mon, let’s go say hi to everyone else.”

When you made your way to the group’s campground, Glenn, Dale, Carl and Maggie walked up to you to greet you while the rest said their hello’s from their seats. You were happy to see them, glad they didn’t disappear overnight. Shit. Last night’s conversation with Daryl hit you harder than you’d thought. The group was having breakfast around a campfire- theirs was much bigger than the one Daryl made. You stared at them, wondering whether you should join. Jake sniffed the air and made it clear he smelled the meat cooking over the fire.

“Are you going to stand there and stare at us or are you gonna join?” Glenn chuckled and bumped Maggie’s shoulder with his own, “Seriously, it’s kinda creepy.”

You apologized and offered them a sheepish smile while taking a seat in between Carl and Maggie. Everyone looked up at you from time to time, which you brushed off- they were probably just curious about Jake, who sat in the space between you and Carl. Maybe they were worried he would attack Carl?

“Alright, what’s up? Now you guys are the ones being creepy.” If you had to take one more weird look, you’d probably die. Or bury yourself underground.

“You’re uh…” Rick began and fumbled over his own words, “there’s a working shower in the house.” Great, Rick. He pointed it out in front of everyone. You were about to get mad but you took a look at yourself for the first time in forever, examining your clothes- they were covered in dirt and grime, not to mention that your face and arms had dried blood all over them.

“Patricia can wash your clothes!” Maggie chimed in, clearly uncomfortable with the silence that fell upon the group. “Eat something and go wash up, I’ll get you some of my clothes for the time being”

You were perfectly content with waiting for Patricia to wash your clothes, hell, you didn’t mind washing them yourself but decided to take the offer- it was a luxury, after all.

Dale cleared his throat and handed you a paper plate with two pieces of meat on it. You thanked him with a smile and gratefully took the food. Without thinking, you grabbed the larger piece and gave it to Jake, watching as he carefully took it from your hand with his teeth while you began chewing your own piece. The taste was familiar, you’ve eaten that meat before. Was it…

“Squirrel?” you asked and noticed Rick staring at you. Dale simply nodded and looked at you with nothing but confusion painted on his face. You were being stared at again. You couldn’t help but chuckle. “What did I do now?”

“I’m pretty sure both of those were for you” Rick smirked and you dipped your head. You couldn’t imagine eating and not sharing it with Jake.

“He’s hungrier than I am” you reassured him with a grin and pat the fox between his ears. Suddenly, something hit you. There’s only one person who can catch squirrels in this group and he wasn’t there.

“Where’s Daryl? There’s no squirrel without Daryl.” It was a joke, but you couldn’t help but worry about him. He was up all night and he went out, he must’ve been exhausted. Maggie smirked and tried to suppress a snort but didn’t manage to. You weren’t sure whether she was laughing at your joke or at how worried you were, but decided to believe it was the former.

“He’s out looking for Sophia, he should be back soon.” Lori tried to sound reassuring but it didn’t make you worry any less. You tried your best not to show your anxiety, the group probably didn’t know why you’d be worried about him. They were asleep while he took watch, making sure everyone was safe.

“I’m going on a run later today. You wanna join?” Maggie asked, kneeling in front of you. You felt Jake tense at how close she got. You didn’t expect it- they trusted you instantly, while they had no reason to. You couldn’t believe it, but you quickly accepted the offer.

Once you finished your meal, you headed to the house to take your fist shower since the apocalypse began. Of course there was the occasional bath in a river or lake but nothing could compete with a warm shower, with soap too. Maggie led you to the bathroom and smiled at you before you shut the door.

“New clothes will be right outside the door on the floor!” her voice was muffled through the closed door. You shouted back a quick ‘thank you!’ before you were about to step in the shower, but something stopped you. A mirror. You looked in the reflection and didn’t recognize the person staring back at you. Your once lively eyes were now sunken down. Your cheekbones were more visible and your hair was matted and tangled. You found a brush in one of the drawers and began combing it out as quickly as you could- the shower couldn’t come soon enough. Once you were done working on your hair, you stepped into the cold, ceramic bathtub and smiled as you turned the tap and felt warm water wash over you. It was an incredible feeling- the blood and gore washing off your skin, cleansing you of the horrors outside of the farm. You ran your hands along your once smooth skin- it was now bumpy and covered with scars. They were nothing but reminders of the battles you’ve won. The pleasant smell of raspberry-scented soap filled your lungs. It was sweet and reminded you of the world before everything fell apart; sweet and tender, but stung like hell if it got into your eyes.

You closed your eyes and simply enjoyed the moment. It felt purifying. All of the pain, sorrow and grief washing off you and disappearing in the drain. The only thing the warm water couldn’t wash off was the moss that grew on your heart, almost engulfing it whole. Love was a tricky thing, it always was, but in this world it was even worse. You were unable to bring yourself to open up to the group about who you were with before, even about your pitiful life before the ‘shit hit the fan’. You didn’t want to think about your disgusting past relationships, the men you were with being the reason as to why you flinched and ducked whenever someone raised their hand at you or touched you without announcing themselves first. You only allowed yourself to cry in moments like these- alone and comfortable, always afraid of people seeing you cry. Perhaps that’s why you and Jake bonded almost instantly- your hearts were covered in moss.

You quickly opened the bathroom door and dragged your new clothes in. It was a nice outfit; a black tank top and a pair of jeans that was cut with scissors to be knee-length, along with a well-fitted black leather jacket. A smile crept up on your face when you saw yourself in the foggy mirror- you at least resembled your old self now.

Maggie was already waiting for you on the porch, sitting on the steps and smiled at you when you emerged from the door.

“Ya ready to go?” her head swung toward you while she pushed herself up from the steps, standing up. You nodded in response but quickly stiffened, remembering something,

“Can he come along?” you motioned towards Jake, who was standing by your side. Maggie shifted, her eyes flickering between you and your fox companion. She was clearly unsure and she had every reason to be- it was a wild animal. But that wild animal was insistent on following you and making sure you were okay; you did the same for him.

“We’re gonna go on horses, though.” She looked at you sheepishly and awaited your response

“That’s perfect, actually! He could use a good run” you kneeled down next to Jake, who instantly began pacing around you, brushing his fiery fur against you. “Sure has a lot of pent up energy”

You couldn’t remember the last time you rode a horse- it was long before the apocalypse even began. The animal was big, if it decided to buck you off- it would. Thankfully, you were good with animals. The horse seemed calm as it walked beside Maggie’s. It was exceptionally quiet for a while. The only sounds echoing through the empty streets of the abandoned countryside town was the rhythmic hitting of hooves against the hard concrete. Jake trotted along, not needing to run as you weren’t going fast. He clearly enjoyed going out on runs, he was the most adventurous fox you’ve ever met. The only fox you’ve ever met, actually, but you were sure other foxes weren’t this energetic or upbeat. The only weapon you carried was a hunting knife that you borrowed from Rick, who refused to let you go without any way of protecting yourself. Your goal was a small grocery store that was boarded up, which meant it probably wasn’t looted yet. Maggie clearing her throat brought you back from your thoughts.

“So, what’s up with you and Daryl?” she chimed cheerfully. You almost fell off the horse, but quickly composed yourself . What in the hell did she mean? Instead of answering her question, you decided to retort,

“What’s up with you and Glenn, huh?” you sent her a wink and noticed her roll her eyes with a small smile. There definitely was something going on with the two- they came in a bundle. If Maggie was doing laundry, Glenn suddenly decided to help her out. If Glenn was taking watch, Maggie magically appeared near him within minutes.

“Oh, c’mon.” She dismissed your question. Fair, you did the same to her. “If any of us tried to set up camp near the one and only Dixon we’d probably get an arrow in the ass” she laughed and you smiled, but still didn’t understand. If what she was saying was true- why did he let you set your tent up next to his? “Not to mention, he watched you for how long? A week?”

You couldn’t help but let out a throaty chuckle. Daryl was one confusing man.

“Yeah, that one was creepy as shit” you said, giggling like a schoolgirl and looking down, suddenly unable to meet her gaze.

The store was mostly clear of walkers, say for a couple squished together in a bathroom. You and Maggie swiftly took care of them and began looting the store. It was quite intact, with the majority of supplies untouched. You swiped as many cans as you could off the shelves, letting them drop in your duffle bag. Once you packed as much food as you could, you decided to take a look around the remaining aisles. There wasn’t anything of interest- some long expired lotions, condoms and sunglasses. You were about to leave the store with Maggie when you saw something in the corner of your eye. A sketchbook. You smiled a toothy grin and looked at Jake who was busy sniffing every shelf he came across. Quickly shoving the sketchbook in your already-full bag, you bumped Maggie’s shoulder with your own to signal her that you’re ready to leave.

The ride home was pleasant and the scenery was quite beautiful. The sky was turning a pinkish-orange color, the setting sun began giving everything an incredible orange glow. Everything looked more alive, even the abandoned stores and houses. Jake’s fur, which usually looked fiery, now looked like it was ablaze- he looked like a living flame.

When you arrived at the farm, the sky still had that beautiful glow to it. The farm looked like something out of a fairytale. You hopped off your horse and gave it a pat, leading it to the stables with Maggie. Once the horses were in place, you turned to Maggie.

“What did you mean? Earlier, about Daryl?” you stuttered, unsure if you should be asking the question.

“What I mean, (Y/N),” she put a hand on your shoulder and smiled at you brightly. It wasn’t the same smile she gave you when she asked about Daryl on the way to the store- this one was warm, inviting, yet still playful. Quickly, it turned into a smirk, “Daryl isn’t exactly easy to seduce”

What? Seducing Daryl was the last thing on your mind- all you wanted was someone you could trust, someone who would understand you. That person just so happened to be him- maybe because he was the one to save you, maybe because you were both like wild animals, maybe because he liked Jake. You smirked at that last thought and shook your head.

“Maggie” you looked deep into her eyes, placing both of your hands on her shoulders, “Even if I wanted to, I’m about as seductive as a cabbage” Maggie let out an unflattering snort and playfully hit your arm with her fist. You were unsure what to make of the exchange- did you really seem like all you wanted was flirting with Daryl? Just because he let his walls down a little for you didn’t mean anything. He probably felt comfortable around you because he saw how you were in the forest and felt like he knew you already; you can tell a lot about a person solely by their actions, afterall.

“Do I really seem like I just want to get in his pants?” you sighed and looked down in genuine sadness. You just needed a friend. When Maggie noticed how serious you got, her eyes dropped and her voice suddenly became soft, just above a whisper.

“I was kidding, I’m sorry.” She smiled a sad, uncertain smile and went on, “He just acts different around you, that’s all.” Her words made you think. You didn’t know how exactly he acted around others. Of course, he respected Rick and could be an asshole to the group from time to time, but how different could he be around you? This man gave you a headache, no matter how much time you spent thinking about what he’s thinking, you could never guess.

You nodded at Maggie and made your way out of the barn- you needed some fresh air. Deciding it was best to stay away from others to think, you headed to the only place you could think of- the very campfire you were sitting by with Daryl last night. Once you took a seat on a log, you stared into space, your hand stroking Jake’s fur from time to time. Maggie’s words echoed in your head, like someone shouted inside a tunnel, the echo repeating itself constantly. Maybe you should give the man space, maybe you shouldn’t get too close. Last time you did that, people died. All you wanted to know was what was behind those steel-blue eyes. You also decided to apologize to him for last night; he probably didn’t care much but you still felt guilty for brushing him off like that. Suddenly, Jake shot up and turned around, standing still and not moving an inch. Your head whipped back to see what spooked him so bad and saw the very man that you were thinking about. He was covered in small cuts and bruises, probably from running through thorn-covered bushes. His gaze was soft, friendly. Exactly like the one you saw last night when you so casually conversed with him. You stood up, about to say hello, about to apologize. You had to hold yourself back from hugging him- you were glad he made it back in one piece. You opened your mouth to speak but closed it when he kneeled and began shuffling around in his backpack, clearly looking for something. He wasn’t sure whether he should say something or not, maybe he should apologize for prying yesterday. He was definitely not a people person. Deciding it’s best to just let his action speak for him, he pulled out a familiar item out his backpack. Was it-

“Found yer knife. Apology for yesterday” He looked at you with that undecipherable look he had. You were baffled- what was he apologizing for?

“What the hell? Thank you so much!” you took the knife from his hands, “I was about to apologize myself. Sorry for brushing you off like that.” You smiled at him and, deciding to be brave, hit his arm with your fist gently. “Did you cut yourself so bad with my knife?” you gestured towards the many cuts on his face and the ones on his hands and arms, “Thought you were good with blades” You smirked at him. He scoffed and hopped over the log you were previously sat on and took a seat.

“Ya can bet ‘m better than ya"

----

taglist <3

@writers-adversary @kimchiwen @mileysnavely @srhxpci

#daryl x oc #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #fireandmoss

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hournites · 3 years

Note

Have you done 23 or 27 yet? It's almost like you're gonna fill up a bingo card by the end of the week, at this rate! LOVE YOUR HOURNITE FICS! (♥ω♥*)

Hournite + 27 "You're so beautiful"

Beth meets up with Rick after her math class. His gym bag is slung over his shoulder, coming back from the soccer field after PE. They walk down the hall together as Rick tells her he needs to put his stuff away. Beth shoots him a glance. It's muddy and gross outside. Rick's tracking mud with his shoes. To distract herself from how he looks, Beth stretches her arms and glances down at her own outfit.

"I'm thinking of ordering new pins on Etsy," she starts.

"What's Etsy?"

Beth takes five minutes to explain, and then another three to go into the importance and value she has in supporting black owned businesses, especially those in the arts. "And it's a bigger plus if they're local!" she exclaims. "There's one lady from Omaha whose shop has black lives matter pins. That's where I got my purple and pink ones."

Rick gets to his locker. "Yeah, I remember those."

Beth grins at him, happy that he notices them. "But I want to shake them up a bit! My dad says my fashion style is a bit too kitschy, which is not my intention at all. I like colourful and cute stuff! But if we're trying to stay under the radar at school maybe I should tone the pins down a bit. What do you think?"

"I don't think it really matters what pins you decide to wear. It's not going to change the outfit by that much. Also there's not much you can do if you want to stay under radar." Rick messes with his lock combo until the rusted door swings open. "You're so beautiful."

Beth opens her mouth. Closes it.

Rick is arranging his books. And by arranging, it's actually dumping the pile of textbooks that are overdue at the library to the bottom of the locker so he can prop up his gym shoes.

A nervous laugh bubbles out of her. "I'm...what?"

Rick turns around, the frown of his from his disorganization dissolves from his face. "What?"

"You just said I was beautiful."

Rick blinks at her and slowly turns red to her absolute fascination. "I...uh?" He clears his throat and grips the open locker door. He stares into it for a moment. "...Yeah," he admits to the back wall.

Beth keeps her feet firmly to the ground so she can only perform her dance of excitement on the inside as her stomach does acrobat tricks. Yolanda was right all along. Rick actually is into her!

Beth hedges closer, nudging his arm with her elbow. There's no need for him to drown in embarrassment, especially because she feels the same way! "Are you....okay there, Rick?"

He nods his head.

"....Do you want me to ....go?"

He nods his head again.

Beth takes a breath, crossing her arms. It's alright if he needs some time to process. She won't let herself get offended. She reminds herself of the thousand times she's accidentally let slip a spare thought she probably would've rather to have kept to herself. And Rick doesn't want to get rid of her, he seems to want to get rid of himself. So she'll just check on him later.

"Okay," Beth says as light as she can. "If it makes you feel any better, I think you're really handsome too!"

She shoulders her bag and turns around.

“Wait--”

A hand grasps at her corner of her elbow. Rick's hand. And then she's spinning around and colliding against him with a slight gasp. She looks up at him just as he smiles at her. His eyes dart around, trying to gauge her reaction as he says, "Do you want to go on a drive after school?"

"Just us together?"

"Yeah." Rick clears his throat again. "Us. Together. A date?"

"Yes!" Beth exhales all at once. "Yes! Yes! But where? Actually, no, surprise me! You can take me anywhere you want!"

Rick breaks out into that amazing smile Beth is obsessed with. "Okay!" he laughs.

The bell rings and they both start, completely forgetting they were only between periods.

"I've got to go!"

Rick leans against the lockers, watching her back up into the hallway crowd. "See you then!"

"Bye, Beth," Rick says. Beth turns around and squeals to herself. She decides to treat herself with a final glance one last time, turning around just before she gets to the corner of the hall. Rick is still where she left him, resting his forehead against his locker.

#literally just an insane amount of fluff #hournite #rick x beth #stargirl #hn fics #hournite fic #tkv fic #fluff #thank you for all the compliments ! <3 #hn talks

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fairyposhmom · 1 year

Link

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NOT FOR SALE Beauty And The Beast Book Clutch Cross Body Bag or Purse In Vinyl.

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it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream · 3 years

Text

Going, Going, Gone (Spencer Reid x Reader) Chapter 5

Warnings: Mentions of death and injury/much angst

Word Count: 2k

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

-Spencers POV-

His heart stopped. There she was. Right there, if only he could climb through the screen and grab her, shielding her from further harm. He was angry, she looked so small, from what he could make out on the screen you were tied to a bed, bound by chains, blood and wounds scattered in different shapes and sizes over your almost naked body.

Spencer heard a gasp from behind him, turning he noticed JJ staring at the screen seeing exactly what he was. He didn’t have time to deal with peoples feelings, he just needed to figure out where his girl was and quickly. Emily had joined him back at the laptop.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was full of panic and hate. Then her eyes went wide when she heard Rossi’s voice travelling up the attic stairs.

“Spencer, did you find anything yet.” Spence turned to look at the man and then back at the screen, angling his body so it was in front of Rossi’s line of sight. Emily was trying to get him to go back down stairs but he was having none of it, pushing passed her to get to the source of the commotion. Spencer couldn’t bare to listen to the angry cries of his colleague, the angry, broken cries of a father. He was too focused on taking in everything he could, trying to look passed your broken and beaten down, still breathing body, to figure out if there was anything to lead them to you.

Spencer hit a button on his mobile, a direct line to Garcia who was anxiously waiting for anything back at her cyber lab.

“Go boy wonder what have you got for me.” Penelope’s joking voice faltered when Spencer informed her of their findings. He sent the video clip of Y/N over to Penelope to analyse further. Her voice quivering as she promised Spencer she’d be found.

Spencer took a look at the screen again, noticing marks up the algae covered walls. They were water marks, which told you how high the water sometimes flooded inside the building. He let Garcia know so she could narrow her search to a building that would be underground near water and it took her mere seconds to come back with a location.

“It’s an old underground bunker, the Unsubs father was some kind of doomsday preparation nut, it’s next to the Teal River, i’ve sent the exact location to your phones.” The team were out the door in seconds, hoping and praying that this is where they would find you alive. They needed to find you alive.

“Were coming for you sweetheart just hold on, were coming.” In that moment Spencer did something he never did, he prayed.

-Un-Subs POV-

“It’s almost time. Almost time to get rid of the girl. She put up a bigger fight than I thought she would. A few more stab wounds and cuts aught to do the trick, let her die slowly in her cell, die slowly just like my girl did. They will pay, they will all pay.”

-Your POV-

You coughed. You could hear that your breathing was getting worse and it felt like the air was slowly being sucked out of you. You knew you didn’t have long left. You would have liked to cry, feel sorry for yourself, for the fact that you’d never have a future with Spence, never see your father again and never see the team you called family again, but you were too dehydrated and your body couldn’t even function enough to produce a single drop. You slumped against the sticky cold wall, dry blood smeared across your face and in your hair. Your leg was still bleeding but you’d managed to stop it slightly by using some dirty cloth from the mattress you were sitting on. An infected leg was better than bleeding out.

Your eyes closed and you thought about Spencer. How his mind would be working over time trying to piece together the clues and find you before you met your demise. You wanted to believe they would find you in time but your hope was slowly fading away with your consciousness.

You thought about your father and how he’d been in the BAU for so long, founded it with your godfather Gideon, how it was basically his whole life, as well as you. You hoped that when you were gone he’d be able to move on, that he wouldn’t hurt for too long and hopefully one day he’d re-marry, god knows he could use a strong woman in his life after your mum died.

You thought about your friends.. family at the BAU. Your best friend Luke Alvez who treated you more like a little sister, always taking you under his wing and giving you advice even when you didn’t need it. You hoped he’d stay at the BAU, that if you died, it wouldn’t effect him too much and he’d be able to get back to some kind of normal life. You wish there was a way to tell him he could have your baseball card collection, he’d always wanted it. You laughed a little, a sad laugh, already grieving for the people you were going to lose. Thinking about all the things you still wanted to do in life. They say that when you die you life flashes before your eyes, they were wrong. It’s before that, it plays through your head like a movie, going over all the things you’d never get to see.

In your mind you pictured what your wedding day would be like. Spencer would want a small wedding full of close family and friends and you’d agree. The perfect setting your fathers large back garden, flowers everywhere, surrounded by the people you love. The gentle exchanging of rings and the kiss he would give you that would still make your toes curl even when you were old and grey.

Children. You wanted at least 4. You wanted so many children with Spencer because you knew he’d make the most amazing father, even if he’d be scared they’d carry the gene for schizophrenia. They’d have his curly hair and your eye colour, his calmness and his smarts while they had your artistic nature and kindness. They’d love to stay with Grandpa, who would tell them all kinds of stories of his time in the FBI, obviously leaving out the heavy stuff. Your friends would come over and you’d always have big dinners and get togethers, BBQ’s in the summer, your lives full of life and laughter and there would always be him. Right by your side. Your Spencer. You’d grow old together, still love each other as hard as you do now. Until your last breath. You pictured going out like the scene in the notebook, old and in each others arms. The world would always be right, if you had your Spencer Reid.

You could feel your breathing slowing, the sound of heavy footsteps running down the echoing corridor. It was too late. You were sure the Un-sub was coming to finish you off once and for all, leave you somewhere for your family to find, another body in another case the BAU would eventually solve. But it was too late for you. The door swung open and your eyes closed. The pain was gone and so were the chances of seeing your Spence one last time.

-Spencers POV-

The SUV’s came to a screeching halt outside the bunker. There was a gravelled path that lead towards the doors that were hidden behind shrubs. It was one of those lucky by chance things, the team arrived and the Un-sub was outside, about to go into the bunker. While Prentiss and JJ read him his rights and stuck him in the back of the car, Spencer, Rossi and Luke threw open the metal doors and made their way inside cautiously. Spencer wanted to throw all caution to the wind. Guaranteed the two other men he was with wanted to as well. All they wanted to do was get their girl back. But sometimes looks could be deceiving and more danger could be lurking up ahead. In this case, there wasn’t.

Spencer ran down the long echoing corridor, medics behind him. The cells were empty apart from one.

“Y/N! Y/N! Can you hear me? Were here Darling just hold on okay, i’m here baby i’m here.” Spencers voice was full of panic as the three men used all their strength to open the tightly sealed bunker door. Spencer could faintly see through the porthole door, the grime and condensation obstructing his view slightly. You weren’t moving. He started to panic even more and when the door hissed and flung open it was if the world was moving in slow motion.

You were pale, eyes closed, dry blood across your practically naked body. Dirty cloth wrapped around your blood soaked thigh and cuts littered your body in all shapes and sizes. One of your hands was handcuffed to a railing next to the rusty spring covered bed and you looked smaller than you’d ever looked before. Spencer was on you in seconds. Luke had bolt cutters and had snipped the handcuff from the railing. Rossi was frozen in his spot, his daughter lifeless in front of him. Spencer lifted you carefully in his arms laying you on the ground.

“She has no pulse! She’s not breathing! She’s not breathing!” He started pumping your chest, 1,2,3,4…. check, no sign of breathing. He held your nose and blew into your mouth twice, Luke took over chest compressions as the paramedics set up the defibrillator. More Paramedics arrived, pushing the two FbI Agents away so they could work on you more thoroughly. Some tended to your still bleeding cute, needles attached to you for IV bags and then.

“Everyone clear!” The defibrillator sounded up. The shocking noise and the thud your body made against the cold floor seemed to echo all around. They shocked you a total of four times before they managed to get a weak pulse.

The ambulance ride wasn’t long, especially now that you had a police escort and most of the flashing lights in the city. You died and came back 3 times in the ambulance. Spencer hadn’t stopped crying since he found you bleeding and lifeless.

On arrival to the hospital you were instantly taken to surgery, some of the stab wounds too severe to be treated normally. The BAU occupied the waiting room, Rossi sat numbly staring at the floor, Spencer paced back and fourth, Luke kept on asking the Dr for updates every ten minutes and the rest of the team just waited for any news at all.

——————————————————————————————————

-Your POV-

You hadn’t remembered your cell being this bright. Maybe your captor had taken you outside. Maybe you hadn’t died in time to be spared of the cruel torture that was about to follow. What was that dreadful beeping sound? You blinked, your eyes taking their time to adjust to your surroundings. You were defiantly somewhere else and you started to panic, the beeping got louder and faster. You tried to sit up.

“Spencer! Spencer! Wake up she’s awake!” You couldn’t make out the voice clearly, it sounded like… your dad? But how? Were you dreaming. Maybe this was your body in its final stages playing a cruel trick on your subconscious.

You tried to talk, but your throat was dry and you were hit with a wave of pain. Someone pressed ice chips to your lips, slowly but surely you accepted them, the coolness coating your vocal cords.

“Please, please tell m-me this isn’t a d-dream.” A tear leaked from the corner of your eye and rolled down your cheek only to be kissed away by… your Spencer.

“Baby, it’s not a dream, I found you, we found you. You’re safe now and I’m never letting you go again.”

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Welp, There we go. The final chapter! I hope you liked this mini series! If you like Criminal minds or want me to write for anyone else.. maybe Luke Alvez... let me knowwww i'll consider it ;) Please Reblog/follow/like <3333

Tag List:

@waddles03

@nocturnalherb16

@reidscardigan

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ruewrites · 4 years

Note

As a request-Maybe some fluffy/chaotic Solodeus dealing with Cultural Differences between the Human World and the Devildom? I feel like somethings that are normal for us would be strange or not as well known for demons 👁👁

Humans are Odd

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 1502

Warnings: None

A/N: It took me a while to come up with something for this (and I had to confer with a couple other people for ideas) but I had a fun time making this cute little one shot! I hope you enjoy it!

Spending an entire week up in the human world had been something Asmo had been looking forward to. He’s had his bags packed for weeks now, and he could barely focus on studying for his exams. Usually he just had to suffer through breaks missing his boyfriend and sulking around the Devildom and waiting for Solomon to summon him for tiny amounts of time. But Solomon was inviting him to stay up at his place for a week! No brothers, just him and his boyfriend.

Oh it was going to be a beautiful week! Especially when Asmo didn’t get to see the human world very much. Yes, he’d been up there a few times, but not to explore. Usually Solomon would summon him up for help with work or for small amounts of cuddle time… or even a little more than cuddle time.

Solomon’s laughter filled his ears before the smoke even cleared. Asmo had dropped his bags and ran to him, throwing his arms around him and kissing him all over. His wings fluttered with excitement, Solomon’s fingertips dancing close to where they sprouted from his back, making Asmo shutter. He only receded his demon form in order to nuzzle underneath Solomon’s chin.

“I’m happy to see you too Asmodeus,” Solomon smiled, pecking the top of his head before pulling Asmo closer. His arms were wrapped firmly around his waist.

Oh this was lovely.

“Now,” Solomon pulled away, a smile wide on his face, “How about we get you inside? I can get your bags.”

“Oh what a perfect gentleman,” Asmo giggled, “I’ll carry my soaps in though, I was thinking about getting a shower before we went out. Just to get the smoke out of my hair.”

“Of course my dear.”

They sat his bags down on one side of Solomon’s bed, and Asmo couldn’t help but let himself fall over, while taking Solomon with him. Who could blame him? He was happy to see his boyfriend! And it had been a while since they’d had a nice, uninterrupted, makeout session together. He was going to redo his makeup anyways, so he could afford to mess it up a little.

When he finally managed to untangle himself from his boyfriend, he grabbed his things and sauntered into the bathroom. Then he stopped. He blinked a few times and scrunched up his nose. This didn’t seem right.

“Solomon baby,” he asked, “Am I in the right bathroom?”

“Yeah. That’s the right one. What’s wrong? Do you need help?”

Was he serious? No. This had to be some sort of magic trick. Whatever was going on was making things smaller than they actually were. There was no way Solomon’s bathroom was this small.

“This...This is it?” he asked.

Asmo could hear Solomon chuckling from the bed, “Bathrooms here won’t be as big as what you’re used to Dearest, but it can still fit two people.”

The bathroom his brothers shared in Lamentation was bigger than this. Well, perhaps he could make do… Although he would definitely talk to Solomon about getting a bigger bathroom. It also made a little more sense now why Solomon was so surprised when he first saw his bathroom.

With a sigh Asmo started undoing his clothes and preparing his shower.

******

“So this place is nice?” Asmo asked, snuggling closer to Solomon’s arm. It was nice out and Solomon promised that their first day together would be something Asmo loved. Asmo almost cried out of relief when Solomon told him that he’d be taking him out instead of cooking for the two of them. Apparently Simeon had suggested that Solomon treat him (Asmo would certainly be sending him a gift basket as a thank you).

Solomon smiled and nodded, “Very nice. I think you’ll like it. I’ve come here with a few friends before.” He opened the door with his free hand and ushered Asmo in. The setup reminded him of Ristorante SIx a bit, in short, Asmo did like it. Solomon knew how to treat him right. Even before they got together Solomon made sure Asmo was kept happy. After all, a happy pact was a strong pact and the more in sync they were the more powerful they could be.

“Smith. Table for 2?”

Asmo’s head snapped up in confusion. He turned to look at Solomon and continued to stare all the way until they were seated at a table in the corner. Their table had a covered candle in the center with flowers surrounding it. It was cute and not something that every table had, so he assumed Solomon asked for the arrangement.

“Smith?” Asmo asked once they were alone again.

Solomon set his drink down, “Last names are common up here, I change mine up every now and again as years go by.”

“Why?”

“It’s a human thing.”

“And you chose Smith.”

“It’s common and easy to remember.”

Asmo shook his head and started to pick up the menu, “Why would so many humans choose the same plain last name?”

“Most people don’t really get a choice in the matter dear.”

“Well I certainly hope you don’t expect me to use it too,” Asmo mused, “If I have to choose a second name, I’m going with something fancy and lovely just like me.”

He still didn’t get this ‘last name’ business, it seemed odd to him, but if it eventually came to it he supposed he wouldn’t mind having one.

However, Asmo quickly ran into yet another thing that he didn’t quite understand. He tried to focus in on the menu again, eyes squinting and blinking as he attempted to process what was before him. He didn’t know what any of this was. These flavors and words weren’t things that Asmo was familiar with. It was so different from the Devildom. Some of the items had pictures sure, but Asmo wanted to know what he was getting. What if it looked good but it was awful? What if Asmo hated it? He didn’t want to not eat something when Solomon took the time to take him here.

He looked back up at Solomon who met his eyes. His brow furrowed and he set his menu down, “Something wrong?”

Asmo could feel himself blushing ever so slightly as he looked back down. “I don’t know what any of this stuff is.”

Solomon’s face softened and he scooted closer, leaning over Asmo’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I think I know what you’ll like,” he said glancing over the menu, “You helped me figure out my way around the Devildom, now I’m here so help introduce you to all things human.”

He poked Asmo’s nose and he couldn’t help but snort and lean into his boyfriend. As long as he had him, Asmo honestly believed that he could live in any realm.

“Now,” Solomon started, “The only question is what type of food are you hungry for?”

******

There was one last stop before they went back to Solomon’s place. Other buildings disappeared as Solomon led him to the outskirts. The grass was a deep shade of green and wild flowers were scattered everywhere. Puffy clouds moved slowly in the bright blue sky and leaves on trees swayed in the light breeze.

Solomon plopped himself down before patting the spot next to his side. Asmo sat down next to him before squeaking in surprise as Solomon pulled him down onto the ground.

“Solomon-!”

“Relax,” Solomon murmured, allowing some magic to flow past his lips. He led Asmo’s head to his chest and stroked his hair going down to his back where his wings would be. Asmo could feel his eyes fluttering, but some worry still had a grip on him.

“Aren’t you worried about being attacked?” he asked, “What if something comes out of nowhere?”

Solomon kissed his head and smiled, “You have no need to worry my dear, trust me.”

Asmo relaxed a little more. He didn’t get to do this often in the Devildom with Solomon. Yes there were pretty places, but getting to relax like this? With his guard down? Another shudder ran through him as Solomon’s hand moved against his back. This day had been so odd. Tiny showers, last names, the food, it was all so different to Asmo.

Humans were odd.

His human was especially odd.

But he loved him so incredibly much.

“You know, sometimes humans get to share a last name when they really like each other,” Solomon hummed, sending a vibration through his chest that Asmo loved, “And if you wanted a fancy last name, I could probably find something that you might like.”

Asmo glanced up at the sky for a moment in thought. The clouds made such interesting shapes, and they were so calming. If Asmo wasn’t worried about getting caught and getting in trouble, he’d probably let his wings out and stretch a little bit. He closed his eyes and snuggled back into Solomon’s chest, a smile blooming across his lips.

“I think I’d like that.”

#request #0-boba-milk-0 #solodeus #soloasmo #asmosolo #asmodeus x solomon #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #rue writes #fluff

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harknesswife · 3 years

Text

It was you all along (Agatha HarknessxFemale reader)

Summary: This is a sweet self-insert love story between Agatha and a Westview citizen. Everything that happens follows the original events of "Wandavision" and MCU, like a parallel.

Chapter: 05/10

Word count: 1.450k

The phone rang and I was pretty sure who it would be before I even picked it up.

"So, when you say early, you really mean it, don’t you?", I said, with my eyes still closed.

"Well, I assumed you’d be up already", Agnes replied and I knew she was smiling just by the tone in her voice.

"You don’t know me at all", I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. "So, what's up?"

"I also assume you don’t have any plans for today, so I’m inviting you to some trick or treating."

I got the calendar right next to my bed. October 31st.

"Oh, I see. Agnes, dear. I’m so freakin tired these days."

"Well, I think you need to live a little", I heard a door closing on her side of the line.

"I don’t even have a costume, and I’m not sure if there’s time to buy one..."

"Well, then he’s late."

"Who's late?", I asked when my doorbell rang. "Agnes, who’s at my door?"

She giggled.

"See you at eight. Don’t you dare keep me waiting."

Dennis, the mailman, was right at my doorstep.

"Do you guys always work that early?", I yawned while signing the paper he gave me.

"Well, don’t shoot me!", he raised his hands - "I’m just…"

"The messenger. Yeah, I’m familiar with that quote."

He handed me a package before running back to the van.

It was a big silver box with a purple bow on it. I opened it and found the most beautiful dress inside. It was all white, and I could see some tiny crystals attached to it. When I turned it in front of the light, they twinkled in so many different ways. It ended right above my knees, and I had the perfect heels for that. When I was about to go upstairs and try it on, I realized that there was one more thing inside the box.

Wings. Translucent and… magical. So it was a fairy costume. I took them out and boy, they were big. That’s why the box was almost double the dress size. How on earth had Agnes found that on such short notice? Or maybe… she kept that for a while? And was waiting to give it to me?

Just like that the fatigue was gone.

It took me hours to get ready, but it totally paid off. My hair was all curly and I had some glitter in my eyes. My makeup was all white and silver, except for my red lips. I was deciding either to take a purse or not when someone honked in front of my house. The wings were already attached to my dress (which took me forever to do it on my own), and they kinda flapped around me in a lovely way.

Agnes was inside her car, in a full witch costume, with a hat and a wig. Her mouth dropped a little bit when she saw me.

"You look amazing!!", she said, while I closed the door behind me.

"You too", I said, opening the car’s door. I struggled a little bit to get inside with those wings, but I refused to take them off. "So, do you really think people are gonna give us candy? I mean, I don’t think we’re young enough for this."

She grabbed a bag full of sweets from inside the glove compartment and gave it to me.

"I’ve got the treats!", she started the car.

"Which takes us to the tricking", I replied, biting a tiny piece of chocolate. "So, where you’re taking me?"

"I thought that maybe we could escape this town for a while. What do you think?"

She actually waited for me to answer.

"Drive!", I said, getting my seatbelt on. She did.

I couldn’t help looking at her while she drove. The way she’d look at one side and then to another, before going through the next street corner, squinting her eyes and biting her lower lip…

"So, how long do you live here?", she asked me, still looking ahead.

"Well, since I can remember", I replied, looking at her.

"No family, then?"

"No one close...", I said, sighing.

"Don’t you have any friends? Anyone?"

"I’ve been alone for a very long time", I suddenly felt really sad. And I had no idea of why my eyes were tearing up.

"You’re a lovely girl", she looked at me while saying that. "I’m pretty sure you could make lots of friends if you try."

"I don’t feel like trying."

She stopped the car right after we passed through Ellis Avenue.

"Why did we stop?", I looked around, but there was nothing to see. The lights were out in every single house.

"Why did you keep looking for me from your window?", she said, turning her whole body to look at me.

She was, again, expecting an answer. But I didn’t have one.

"I wanted to be friends with you", I said, my eyes unable to reach hers.

"But why? You don’t even know me."

She seemed to be accusing me of something.

"What are you trying to say?", I took my seatbelt off, so I could also turn to face her. My patience was all gone. "Tell me what’s wrong! One minute you treat me just fine, and then…"

Agnes gently touched my face. I stopped talking.

"What makes you so different?", she whispered, more to herself than for me.

She moved her hand from my cheek to the back of my neck. I shivered with her touch and closed my eyes for a second. Enough time for her to let me go.

"I need to... think!", she said, getting out of her car. Something between screaming and shushing. "Please, stay inside. Ok? Stay in. I’ll be right back."

Agnes took off her witch hat and tossed it on the ground. She seemed mad and confused. Nothing about her even resembled that lovely neighbor I once knew.

I opened the door and stepped out. No way in hell I'd watch her freak out like that and do nothing. I was on my way to her when something else got my attention. It was like a glitch right in the middle of the sky. I looked again, to be sure. Without even realizing it, I kept walking towards that strange thing that reminded me of a TV with a bad signal. The closer I got, the more I could see. The details were… so weird. Like a bubble. But with some kind of energy around it. It made me wanna touch it, so I lifted one of my fingers and, feeling kinda foolish, pressed against whatever it was. I felt a little shock, but it didn't hurt.

What if I tried to cross it?

"DON’T MOVE!"

My whole body went cold. I tried to turn my head but I couldn’t move a muscle. My finger still in the air, my eyes locked on that energy field right in front of me. If I could speak, I’d have shouted. But my voice was trapped inside my throat.

Her hands burned my waist when she touched me from behind. I knew it was Agnes because there was no one else in there.

"Trust me", she whispered again, right into my ears.

She held me tighter while my body just collapsed on top of hers. We both fell to the ground. My voice was back, but I was speechless. She pulled me away from where we fell, just trying to get me as far as she could from the glitch. Then we heard it before it actually happened. A blast. The barrier got bigger, swallowing houses, cars, and people. Agnes held me, and I kept my head down on her shoulder, with my eyes closed. There was so much wind, I could feel her hair whipping my body while she kept both of her arms around me. Protecting me from whatever was happening. It ended as suddenly as it started. We stood there for a few more seconds before she made me look at her. I didn’t want to.

"Hey. HEY!", she insisted when I tried to look away. "We need to get out of here."

She got up, taking me with her to the car. I had glitter all over my face, and her hair was all tangled.

"You don’t need to be afraid", she said when we got inside. "I’m not gonna hurt you."

"Agnes… ", I tried to tell her that I wasn’t afraid, but I simply asked, "Where are you taking me?"

"It's time to set you free", she replied, speeding up.

That made no sense to me, but I buckled up.

#agatha harkness #wandavision #kathryn hahn #fanfic #fanfiction #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness fanfiction #agatha harkness fanfic

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 3 years

Text

[CN] Season 2- Victor and MC- Chapter 4 & 5 (Eng Translation)- Part 3

⌚Warning:⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a chapter that is yet to release in the global server. Don't continue under the cut if you don't wish to be spoiled!(◍•ᴗ•◍)

✧✧ PART 1 || PART 2

✧ [CH 4-12] ✧

At BS office: With the help of her subordinates, MC is working on gathering information on Lu Kang, and the mysterious man in black. But the tracker she left on him lost its signal after some time, so the investigation has reached an dead-end for now.

It's also the day Victor will be released from the hospital. So, MC goes to pick him up.

He has changed out of his hospital gown, and returned to his suit and leather shoes.

I sigh inwardly, though Victor has always been very busy, but recently he seems to have become even busier.

MC: You've just been discharged from hospital, don't you want to go home and rest?

Victor: It's not like I was really hospitalized. Besides, I remember that you still have something to report to me.

MC: Now I understand that being a CEO is really not easy.

Victor: If you really want to be considerate of others, improve the quality of your work.

I tilt my face up, and pat my bag while looking at him.

MC: So where does CEO Victor want to test the quality of my work?

Victor: Go to LFG.

MC notes that Victor gets in his work mode™ as soon as he enters LFG LOL

MC reports Victor about her findings that Lu Kang once lost a lawsuit against LFG and seemed to hold LFG responsible for the bankruptcy.

Victor explains that the deal with Lu Kang's company didn't proceed because they were found secretly making false accounts and such doings will eventually lead to plummeting. LFG never did or neither do they need to persecute anyone for business competition, and it'll bring more trouble than benefits anyway.

I scrutinize the sharp air exuding from his eyebrows, and can't help but mutter under my breath.

MC: Victor, you've always been so decisive and swift in action. Haven't you made more or less some enemies?

[Note: MC uses the idiom "雷厉风行" which literally translates to- passing like thunder and moving like wind.]

Victor: When there are interests involved, even if you do nothing, there will be enemies. The rules of the game are inherently cruel, and to have people who want to put some tricks to use, is quite ordinary.

MC gives Victor another report which she compiled based on Lu Kang's memory.

MC points out- the lawsuit incident was a while ago and it shouldn't be the reason he attacked Victor. She assumes-- it has something to do with the "game" that was mentioned in his memory many times. Lu Kang and the young man who partnered in the game probably tried to escape halfway, and they were killed because of the "no escapee rule."

Victor takes MC's reasoning under consideration, and specifically points out that all the victims of the murders are Evolvers. MC expresses her assumption that it could be because the authority of the game has some hidden agenda.

We glance at each other, and once again each sink into reflecting on the matter.

After a while, Victor picks up the last page of the report, and flips through it.

Victor: The trail for that killer is broken?

MC: Yes, should be. We suspect that he threw away the tracker.

Victor looks at the contents of the report repeatedly, then presses it on the table, and taps his fingertips on the last spot tracked by the tracker.

Victor: This place, you've only checked the public webpage. So the trail is not completely broken yet. Let them use the internal channels to investigate again. Don't waste the first-level authority I gave you.

Victor raises his eyes and looks at me, then puts the report back in my hand.

MC: Do I need to investigate that game altogether?

Victor: No need. I will send someone specialized to investigate. Remember, everything you just said is only a conjecture.

Victor: Without my permission, do not voluntarily investigate in private.

MC: Yes, BOSS.

The worries that have been clogging up in my chest for days, finally dissipates in several degrees. Even if I sympathized with Lu Kang, this action to get back at someone is never the right thing to do.

MC: Fortunately, this car accident is not related to the Evolver assassination. Just as I said, who would be so courageous, that he dares to pick a fight with CEO Victor?

Victor: The "bodyguard" is finally relieved?

MC: Relieved!

Victor: Go back when you feel relieved. Start concentrating on your task next week.

I grab the report, preparing to leave, just then Victor calls me again. I look back, and see that he seems to have sent a message to someone.

He halts for a moment, then stands up with one hand propped on the tabletop, his deep gaze falling on my face.

Victor: Thank you for these few days.

I stare blankly at him for a while, and quickly perk up with an even bigger smile.

MC: No need to be polite, Mr. Victor. Just let me book a free pudding from Souvenir!

I turn around at Victor's momentary expression of helplessness, running out of the office like a wisp of smoke.

Ever since confirming his safety, I feel that every time we see each other, it all becomes much more relaxed.

Behind the current life, there are still bubbling up unsettling factors in motion.

But precisely because things being as such, is what makes me want to cherish the rare tranquility all the more.

✧ [4-13] ✧

Just a moment after walking out of the LFG building, I suddenly remember that I've forgotten one thing, and rush back to the lobby.

After talking to the administrative staff at the front desk, I dial Victor's number.

Victor: Hello?

MC: Victor, I forgot one thing just now. To congratulate you on your 'discharge', I've prepared a small gift for you. The staff will deliver it for me later.

Victor: ....I've said I wasn't really hospitalized. What are you up to again?

MC: Just treat it as a blessing. You must accept it! That's all.

Victor: Hold on.

MC: Is there anything else?

Victor: Help me think of a name.

MC: What kind of name? A kitten, a puppy or a relative's child?

Victor: ....Common name, male.

MC: Why are you asking this all of a sudden?

Victor: Because your imagination is comperatively rich.

What kind of answer is this...

I complain inwardly, but still give it a serious thought.

MC: Let me think. How about this one!

(Players get to choose a name from the three options)

Victor: What kind of strange name is that...

Victor's helpless sigh comes from the other end of the phone.

Victor: Never mind. I shouldn't have had any expectations. I'll accept your gift. That's all.

After hanging up the call, I'm still a little baffled by the request.

He abruptly asked me to help think of a name, and also a male's name. Could it be that he is going to use it himself?

Could it be that there is something that requires a disguised identity?

But does he even need to disguise.... aren't the six letters "Victor" the best pass in itself.

Anyway, the name I gave him off the top of my head, he definitely won't use it.

I shake my head, my train of thoughts returning to the gift I've left behind just a moment ago, and can't help but look forward to it.

I wonder when the Victor of now receives this gift, what will the expression on his face be like?

✧[POV back to Victor's office]✧

Closing the last document, Victor leans into his chair, gently pinching his brows.

Opening his eyes, the pink-colored gift box on the corner of the table enters his line of sight again. The lofty color seems to be urging him to open it as soon as possible.

Victor unwraps the box, and inside lies a round Shiba Inu doll, appearing a little old.

He wrinkles his eyebrows, takes it out, and sees a small folded note also being pressed onto the bottom of the box.

He patiently unfolds the note again, the carefully and neatly written calligraphy greets his eyes.

Victor: (reading the note) "Congratulations on your 'recovery,' and here's a small gift for you. This is the doll that has accompanied me for many years. I wish you well and hope you're happy." - MC

Victor: ....Childish.

Victor subconsciously says a word, and falls silent again.

Unknowingly why, but he always feels that he's somewhat familiar with this scene, but he also can't amalgamate the impression any further.

Even just the silly Shiba-Inu doll on the table, brings him a trace of intimacy.

[Note: This is the same Shiba-Inu doll MC's dad gifted her as a kid, and she gave it to Victor in S1 "Rooftop Date," when she wanted to comfort him realizing how much he misses his departed mom.]

It seems as if, ever since meeting her and getting acquainted with each other, this strange feeling often arises.

Is it because she has an Evol associated with memories?

But again, Victor is also very clear that her Evol doesn't have effect on himself.

Or is that, it's simply owing to her?

Victor blankly stares at the doll for a while, and by the time he circles back to his senses, it's already somewhat late.

He pulls open a locked drawer next to his desk, puts the doll inside, and catches a glimpse of the document marked with a sharp " S " symbol underneath.

"Illegal psychoactive drugs", " CORE", "has the potential to stimulate Evol"...

Several eye-catching keywords are marked in red, even in the twilight, which are still clearly identifiable.

The information the girl has reported to him once again surfaces in Victor's mind.

She has organized it very meticulously, but after reading it all thoroughly, the dense fog before his eyes hasn't dispersed.

Those layers of crisscrossing threads seems to have already involved all the parties, standing in different positions, making the situation chaotic.

And all these disputes still ultimately point to the same source--

BLACK SWAN CORE.

When it's all said and done, is this situation because everyone is eager to obtain it, or is there an unknown force hiding in the depository, pulling the strings?

There are still numerous issues that needs to be resolved, and one can not always watch the fire burning across the river.

Victor locks the drawer, and glances at the clock on the wall.

The phone rings at the right time, it's an encrypted email from BS.

Mail: "BOSS, as per your requirements, the relevant information has been sent to the other party."

Victor simply knocks down a reply, gets up and puts on his jacket, preparing to leave.

A pile of events is connected into a ring, and each angler, too, is bait for another.

He is looking forward to what kind of prey can be hooked this time.

✧ [CH 4-15] ✧

Victor meets Lucien at the research center, who hands him the report of a research.

Victor says the results are clear but Lucien says they only confirmed their guesses, and that CORE has been the focus of everyone after Evol was publicized, but there are perhaps other things affecting the world. Lucien asks if Victor feels that the world is not quite right and that every civilization circulates within a box, the time they have is likely more limited than expected.

Victor says it depends on how an individual views the matter, there's no need to pre-determine an outcome.

Lucien asks Victor if he believes he'll be able to get out of the box. Victor replies, "Not believe, it's a must."

After Victor gets in the car, he receives an email: "Dear Mr. [the name MC chose for him earlier], thank you for your support towards Hunter Games."

The rest of the email is basically explaining the rules of the game.‶

✧ [Victor scene in CH 5] ✧

Victor is returning from a business trip. After giving Goldman some instructions, he glances out of the window of the helicopter. Even though everything is peaceful, to him something always seems amiss.

He receives an email containing only one word, "Advanced." His expression doesn't change much since he already expected this outcome. The mail disappears, and he taps on another anonymous email with the instructions- He'll be entering the betting venue in 15 minutes and he should get prepared.

When the helicopter is about to land on the LFG rooftop, he glances out of the window once again and observes the people of the city living their day to day peaceful lives.

The noise-reduction headset cuts out the sound of the outside world, but the mere information sent back to him by his vision, is sufficient to prove the tranquility of the world before his eyes.

The helicopter lands. He settles some works with the staff.

Victor raises his hand to look at his watch, the gray clouds being reflected on the dial, slightly blurs the trajectory of the clock hands.

In a split second, along with lowering his arm, an inconspicuous red light suddenly streaks across the dial.

There's still ten minutes to enter the "betting venue".

The staff turns around, walking towards the elevator, cold wind blows on Victor's face, fluttering the hem of his coat.

Somewhere directly opposite, a small cross hair has always been aiming at the position of his heart.

??: "Code L" elimination plan in progress, target locked.

A second before the trigger is squeezed tightly, the person behind the lens suddenly lifts up, raises his head, looking straight into the set of deep eyes in the distance.

The clamors of the city conceals much of the noise, the discharge of bullet muffles in the silencer, so much so that in this shattering rain, it doesn't even make a crisp sound of snapping a branch.

A dispute between the light and the dark, seemingly has arrived to its conclusion.

[Trivia: The call that comes with the Chapter karma card-- is actually Victor nagging with MC on her report over phone inside the helicopter-- before it lands on the LFG rooftop!]

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